#coffee is a hug in a coffee is like a hug in a

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑩𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), smut, cute farm things, size kink, reader has big gorgeous breasts, rough sex (if you squint), lots of cum, dom dynamics (kinda), etc.

𝟔𝟎𝟎+ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!!! 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒! 𝐈 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia

Once the first snow stuck to the ground you were packing your stuff to visit your grandparents at the farm. The snow covered everything and you loved spending time with your grandma it was a tradition. Placing your foot out of your car you were smiling wide as your grandma greeted you holding a cherry pie. Your favourite. Running into her arms you hugged her tight. You were telling her everything, how you were and how happy you become since it was a long time since you actually visited the family farm. Several miles out from the city, the nature hit differently. Now– especially close to Christmas. You promised to decorate your grandparents house and cook many delicious meals with your grandma. After all… she was like your mom. A golden soul-

“Logan! Come in! Would you like a slice of pie?!” Your grandma called from the kitchen. The backyard door was open, so you peeked out seeing an older man cutting down several logs of wood. He wore a very cozy jacket- the tallest man you have ever seen. His hands wrapped around the end of the axe and he swung it effortlessly making you jump slightly. “I’m alright Mrs Harper just gonna finish this wood for ya. Laura is comin home from school soon.” He grunted out, you bit your lower lip. You swore that he had the most attractive physique you’ve ever seen despite the greying beard and the silver grey hair. He was so strong, the long legs of his- your thighs pressed together unaware you were actually staring he stopped cutting the logs giving you a gentle stare back. You were like a ray of sunshine– your eyes and the apples of your cheeks. Your height alone made his cock heavy in his jeans. He didn’t know how to feel whether to simply kidnap you and fuck you silly or to just stay away from you. Option number two was more suitable and it was rare that women would look at him and acted the way you did. Women avoided eye contact with him especially the younger ones because well- he was trice their age just like you. He swallowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Y/N! It’s cold come in” your grandma grabbed your arm gently yanking you inside the cottage. Logan smirked softly to himself. Thinking to himself you were certainly a very young flesh and he shouldn’t even think about anything- but you attracted him.

“Alright I’m done Mrs Harper” he came inside the cottage placing the keys from the barn on the counter. You kept your gaze down on your coffee warming your hands around the cup. “Thank you so much Logan.” Your grandma smiled. “Are you sure I can’t give you some pie to go?” He shook his head slowly eyes on you. Gosh you felt his gaze burning the back of your head. “I’m sure Mrs Harper you have yourself a good evening. Both of ya” surely this man had manners, and that was even more attractive. “Goodbye Logan! Tell Laura she’s more than welcome to come here and spend time with my granddaughter!” Logan smiled nodding his head “Surely.” Once the man left you took a deep breath. Your cheeks burned. “He’s a good man. But very, old for you.” Your grandma cupped your cheek and you nodded. “I wasn’t thinking differently.” You lied taking a gulp of the warm coffee. The warmth of the coffee leaving a pleasant feeling in your chest as you chatted away with your grandma until your grandfather returned home.

Early in the morning you attended the animals, of course you fed them and changed waters for them. You cuddled few chickens and collected the eggs from the hens and cleaned out their coop. Once the animals were taken care of you visited the horse stalls. Holding a bag with sliced carrots you fed your favourite before an exciting thought occurred to you. You could ride your horse- you haven’t got to in a long time and the morning ride could definitely refresh your mind. Saddling your horse you greeted your grandfather as he entered the stalls smiling wide as he thanked you for all the work you’ve done the entire morning. Galloping out the stalls you waved to your grandma, giggling as your horse nodded its head and jumped over the wooden railing. You rode him through the snowy field and your soul felt freed. It was so amazing that one moment you thought you were flying until you saw a truck drive by, you stilled your horse. It was Logan- it seemed like he was returning from town. “Good Morning!” You called as he slowed down. He wore specs, you blushed as he greeted you back “Mornin, didn’t know you can ride.” He parked his truck on the side of the road you mesmerised by the sight of you sitting on that beautiful horse wearing a jacket with simple jeans but the sexiness and good energy radiated from you creating warmmess all around you. You nodded eagerly “Of course I can. I grew up here, he’s mine” you caressed your horses mane. Logan observed you, how beautiful you looked and those thoughts quickly changed because his eyes fell to your chest. You were indeed ‘gifted’ by Mother nature. “Who’s Laura?” You asked him “My daughter” he responded lighting a cigar. The smoke escaped through the window of his car. “Are you married?” You wondered no agenda behind it of course you stayed respectful. “I’m not sweetheart, are you?” The question made you giggle. “No Mr, I’m definitely not married.” Logan smiled small putting the cigar between his lips still sitting in his truck. Your horse was becoming impatient so you said your goodbyes. It was a short conversation but he called you a sweetheart and that woke butterflies in your belly. Logan thought of you.. oh he thought of you more than he actually should. So he did anything to busy himself- not to think of you. Just a man after all… and you? This young happy woman. For him to ruin.. later.

You wanted to meet Laura. Your grandma said that she’s a young girl and that she loved animals. Knowing you’re great with kids you finished your evening by attending the animals again lastly giving your horse a gentle brush and you plated his mane. You were just a farm girl thinking big about men and how one day you wanted to get married. Unfortunately not having a good luck with men only once and that one broke your heart so you broke up two years ago. Work occupied your mind and truly you haven’t even registered that you were walking to the lake nearby the farmhouse. Seeing the lights in the cottage across and the truck parked near you figured it’s Logan’s. Life was different out here… it was so good. The peace and quiet. Closing your eyes smelling the fresh winters evening breeze– it was freeing. Your grandma called for dinner so you let the thoughts about the charming Logan be for a moment and you walked back inside your farmhouse. The next morning was the same, work with the animals and then cooking with grandma. You were picking the winter apples for apple pies since the bake sale would be on Saturday. You helped as much as you could and to busy your mind. “Look who is visiting today!” Your grandfather brought a basket full of apples holding Laura’s hand. She was a little girl.. with dark beautiful hair and dark eyes. She smiled at your grandma- you greeted her and soon you two were getting along. She wasn’t talking much but understood quite well. “Where’s your daddy today?” Your grandma asked softly. “Hunting” she responded tasting some of the sliced apples. You frowned “Hunting with a shotgun? Like hunting animals?” You were so against it but people did it of course those ones who owned a license for it. “Yes.” She nodded and you put the dough down. “Are you hearing this?” You let out a frustrated growl. “How can someone hurt innocent animals!”

“You are A BAD MAN MR!!” You ran up to his truck pointing at him. “Am I?” He gruffly responded getting out. “You shoot animals!” You scowled. “And?” He gave you another response fuelling your frustration. “Yes! Did you shoot any today?” You asked following him around the truck. “Maybe. Now whatcha doing here little girl? Go back to your horses. Are you even good at something different? Callin me a bad man.” He tsked. “Well yes I am!! Now that’s also rude!” You responded clearly angry with him. “Like what? Fucking?” He arched a brow lighting a cigar leaning against his truck. “Excuse me?!” You gasped, your cheeks growing hot. “Well you ride a horse good can you ride some cock too?” You couldn’t believe the way he said it. “Maybe” you closed the distance between you two bravely looking up at him. “I don’t ride strangers cock, a man at your age.. you’re not my type Mr.” Logan took a hit of his cigar blowing the smoke in your face. “So why the starin and fuck me eyes n’all?” You pressed your thighs together. “I can smell you princess. That pussy is wet” he motioned with his eyes and you pulled the cigar out of his mouth throwing it. Getting on your tiptoes you pressed your lips against his, Logan responded hungrily sweeping you off your feet carrying you inside his cottage. Throwing you in his bed he unzipped his jacket breathlessly looking at you. His stare was filled with desire, darkness.. and you were still too dumb to understand it. Your brain just couldn’t wrap around it- why did men look at women this way especially when they needed ‘some’– they were like hungry animals you feared you were about to be devoured like a prey.

“That’s it babygirl” Logan guided you on his cock, his eyes were glued to your breasts which threatened to jump out of your blouse as you shamelessly bounced on his thick veiny cock. You held his shoulders for support and those big calloused hands roamed your thick thighs. “F-fuck” he shuddered holding fistfuls of your ass before letting go and slapping it making you yelp and moan even louder. “I-I c-can ride so good just like my horsey” you babbled as he hummed letting you rise your hips up and take him back right inside of you bouncing up and down his cock. He was so hard, your ridged walls welcomed him coating him in your juice and that caused you to whimper out. “Too dumb to understand when a man wants you princess” he breathed slapping your ass again making you mewl clenching around his cock. “Argh I should be fucking you so good right now” he tsks drawing fast circles against your clit making you lose the current pace. You were not able to ride him as he continued to please your clit like that. “M’so close..” you sobbed. Your breasts bounced as you started to ride quicker, your core blooming with warmth approaching your climax but Logan seemed to be displeased. “Fucking yourself on oldman’s cock and being dumb about it too” flipping you over so he was on top of you- making you cry out. He sheated himself entirely into you your toes curling and you helplessly moaning as he began to snap his hips into you. “that’s right baby, cry around old man’s cock. So dumb because of some cock” you nodded truthfully.. you only had sex once and now you didn’t know how to breathe since he was filling you out so good.

One orgasm later, you cleaned yourself in the bathroom gosh you were so full of him seed. Blushing furiously, when he came to the bathroom. His body was littered in scars, smoking a cigar it rested lazily between his lips. Standing by the sink, you shivered when he stood right behind you hovering above you “already leavin?” Asking, you nodded touching the sink. His big calloused hand traveled over your side to your belly down to your sex. He smelled the mess on it.. and in it. You both made so much mess. “Could think of ways to make you stay buttercup..” you swallowed looking at him in the mirror. You felt his hot erection on the curve of your butt and soon he was sinking back inside of you from behind. This way you never had it this way- it felt so much more deeper and dizzying. “Oh gosh..” leaning your back against his chest gripping his big forearm he grunted snapping his hips into you clapping his front against your ass. The cigar still burned between his lips and your eyes rolled back into your skull. The endless lines of moans and whimpers Logan found himself wrapping his arms around your front both hands grabbing a hold of your breasts. “F-fuckkkk” he breathed speeding up his thrusts fucking into you, with not just vigour but joy. The way your walls hugged his cock was out of this world “feels so good baby.. letting an old man fuck your pussy like this” you whined trembling with approaching orgasm and as his thrusts grew rougher your were hit with an earth shattering orgasm. The tip of his cock nestled against your sweet spot and you couldn’t last any longer, you clenched and milked all of him until he was forced to still his hips leaning on the wall above you with his hand letting out hungry growls and moans against your ear filling your core with another load. You believed that your legs turned to jelly as you collapsed against his chest your head lolling back against his right peck. “You gonna come back buttercup..” you nodded with a small smile. “Maybe.. but promise me you won’t shoot any animals” he nuzzled his nose against your own before capturing your lips in a deep lusting kiss. You felt his cock grow in your core stretching it again, and you knew you weren’t going to make it back to the farmhouse anytime soon.

-

(Any mistakes or typos I apologise in advance)

[alchemistc]

Part One

Oh, I've got plenty to be thankful for

I've got eyes to see with

Ears to hear with

Arms to hug with

Lips to kiss with

Someone to adore

-bing crosby

He keeps waiting for someone to say something. To accuse him of lingering where he doesn't belong, or remind him he'd never actually made it all the way in. To tell him to go home, maybe get a halfhearted promise to let him know how Buck is at some point.

Maddie lays an exhausted head on his shoulder and Bobby sneaks him a slice of pumpkin pie he's apparently been hiding in the tote at his feet. Hen tosses him a power bank with a lightning cord and Karen makes a joke about his holiday attire.

When the coffee comes, Howie takes the trip to the lobby with him, pulls out his wallet and does his damnedest to strong arm Tommy into letting him tip the haggard looking girl another twenty bucks on top of the fifty Tommy'd figured was appropriate for having to balance a literal stack of hot beverages from the parking lot on Thanksgiving. She eyes them both with a smile and Tommy is more compelled the grab the drink carriers from her tired arms than stop Howie.

They're halfway back when Howie purposely slows his pace, and Tommy fights the urge to pick his up and avoid whatever's coming down on him. "So. Was this the wake up call you needed, or can I expect Buck to order a freezer on a Black Friday deal for my garage to store more baked goods?"

He doesn't know what that means.

He can extrapolate, though. "He's been baking?"

"Tommy, I cannot stress enough exactly how much he's been baking."

He'd tried his hand at a few things here and there, but Tommy's used to experimental chef Evan Buckley, not baking Evan Buckley. To be fair, if he'd seen Evan working a KitchenAid, apron tied loose and flour on a cheekbone, Tommy doubts he'd have actually had the time to finish whatever he had planned. That was then, of course.

"What was he doing on that trail, Howie?" That, too, he could maybe extrapolate. He doesn't want to, but he could.

Howie eyes him. Uses his free arm to elbow Tommy in the ribs. "You were the first person he ever invited to a 118 Thanksgiving, you know. My guess? He wasn't in the mood to be reminded of it while there was no room in the oven to bake away his feelings."

Yeah.

Jax had been over the moon when Tommy offered to take his shift, no trades necessary. What would the point have been, when Christmas and New Year's would be unbooked too?

Evan had bribed like six different people to ensure they'd be able to swing dinner on the day. Hobbes had sounded so thrilled to hear Tommy asking for the time off that he'd approved it without even looking at the shift.

"I'm just warning you in advance. The grovelling process is gonna involve eating your weight in loaves, most likely."

And that's that, apparently. No heavy handed warnings, no suspicion about why Tommy hasn't fucked off yet. Like it's some foregone conclusion that Tommy's not gonna panic and bolt a second time. Nothing has changed, yet Tommy gets the feeling they're all expecting some tearful reunion and a return to TommyandBuck.

Tommy slips the tea into Maddie's hands and watches her sniff it in distaste, which is an interesting nugget he'll have to revisit later if -

If.

There's no guarantees, here. That Tommy will be able to articulate how fucking terrified he is, that Evan will understand it. That the two of them will find a way through it together. All he has to go on is a solo hike on a day Evan should have been with family, an apparent bakery full of feelings spread between the 118, and the quiet calm that had washed over him when Eddie prompted him to make a decision.

Feet to the fire, he'd stayed.

---

Maddie's pregnant. It hits him between the eyes right around hour three of sit-and-wait. He's not an idiot, or a fool, and he hasn't spoken to any of these people in weeks so he's not going to announce it to the world, but somewhere in between the sporadic naps on Tommy's shoulder and the way she is attempting (failing) to power through her now cold tea makes him think. She and Bobby had driven here, and it's clear everyone else had been indulging. Maddie's no lush, but he's seen her knock back half a bottle of wine before when she's got nowhere to be.

She excuses herself to the bathroom for a third time, looking a little green, and Tommy ends up locked in a staring contest with Howie that only ends when Tommy mimes zipping his lips.

He still hasn't gotten the story about Eddie and why he's not here.

Bobby and Athena are apparently closing in on a new house.

Howie is less than a year away from having a second kid.

Athena's kids are apparently at Howie and Maddie's, attempting to keep Mara and Jee from destroying the house in the absence of adults.

And Tommy wants.

Wanting has never really been the problem, though. Wanting is the easy part. Wanting doesn't get him over the hurdle of knowing he's not enough. For Evan, for this family he's built that just keeps growing bigger and bigger. It'd been a relief, those first few days after, not to have to wonder which member of the 118 would land in the hospital next, not to have to rearrange something else on his schedule because Evan was convinced he was cursed, or Eddie'd had another shitty call with Christopher.

The relief hadn't lasted. A week in, he'd stayed up all night demolishing the half-bath off his dining room, because he'd been putting it off for months and he'd nearly texted Evan something that was startlingly revealing and left him exposed on all sides. Two weeks in he'd finished grouting the backsplash in his kitchen. And in between, he wondered how Eddie was doing, if he'd made any progress with his son. He'd wondered if Maddie enjoyed the bottle of wine they'd brought back from a spur of the moment trip to Napa. He'd wondered how Nash was doing, if he was readjusting to having his crew and his station back. He wondered how Hen and Karen were, how many things Denny had already gotten stuck in his cast trying to ease an itch.

He'd wondered, and he'd sat in it, and then he'd rewired the shoddy work an electrician had done in his spare room that he kept telling himself he'd get around to.

The wanting never goes away. He just finds new places to put it when he starts to care too much.

"Kinard and Buckley?"

Maddie's still in the restroom. Tommy - has no fucking clue why the nurse is staring at them like they'll just materialize the right people. She sucks in her lips and gives him a dead eyed stare before her eyes dart to his chest. More specifically, the nameplate on his chest.

Tommy blinks.

---

The having is where he's always floundered. Things are temporary. People are temporary. He's always been borrowing. Borrowing time, attention, affection.

For a few months there, he'd really started to think he could handle the having. That he'd get to keep it.

---

"I'm Buckley, he's Kinard," Maddie says from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he turns in time to see her adjusting her jacket, wiping at her lip. She stabilizes, looking unfazed, and stands tall. As tall as she can, at least. "You have news about my brother?"

The nurse glances around the room. No one is bothering to pretend not to be listening. Maddie hovers a wave behind her.

"Ignore the audience, we're all waiting with bated breath to see how obnoxious my brothers going to be. It depends entirely on whether or not he gets pie tonight."

She gives them all a disapproving look. This must not be one of their normal nurses.

Christ. They have normal nurses.

"Well, no pie tonight, but he should be able to eat a sandwich in the morning."

He's fine. He's fine.

Tommy knew going in that most of his injuries were superficial. The ribs had been a concern but with the pain meds and the collar he hadn't really had a chance to exacerbate those injuries. There's no reason he should feel quite so relieved to know that Evan will have a few annoying splints to work around and he'll probably need to rehab his ankle for a couple weeks once it's healed. The concussion isn't ideal, and he'll need help for a few days, but he's fine.

Tommy can feel the tears building.

"He'll likely be out for a few more hours, but I'll let you know when he's set up in a room. Two visitors at a time," she warns. "The concussion will effect his response time. Don't be surprised if he doesn't remember much, loses his train of thought."

Hen shifts somewhere behind him. It feels a bit like she's being held back from correcting the nurse about the normal side effects.

Things move on around him. The nurse leaves, Hen passes a Stanley cup around that definitely isn't filled with water, the normal sigh of relief is released while Maddie drops into the seat next to him with a groan, the team has a strange competition around him to battle for visitor position.

Tommy breathes.

I should go, Tommy thinks to himself, as half the people in the room raise their phones.

His own phone vibrates against his thigh.

A message from Howie, time stamped two minutes - Tommy squints to make sure - two minutes ago, an update on Evan. Another from Eddie reminding them all to give Buck a patent Eddie look from him while they were giving him shit. A selfie of Eddie, with Christopher somewhat reluctantly bending into the picture over his shoulder.

In another thread, he's got three messages from Eddie.

If I have to remove you from this group I'm sending my kid after you with his crutches.

You guys hiked Griffith Park for your Not-A-One-Month-Anniversary-We-Swear date, right?

Send Buck my love. Not like that, though.

Tommy sends back: When the fuck did he add me to his emergency contacts? and then decides he doesn't want to know anyway so he turns off his phone.

---

Maddie goes alone, and Tommy spends the time alternating between tapping his foot against the tile to distraction, and clamping his hand over his knee in an attempt to stop the tapping.

Bobby and Athena go next, then Hen and Karen. Then they're pulling on jackets and promising to save a plate for Buck.

Howie slips away for a few minutes and then returns, looking amused. "You think everyone else got the same greeting?" he asks his wife, who grins tiredly at him, pats his wrist. Her gaze turns to Tommy.

"Should we stay?"

That's a trap of a question. That's an assumption Tommy doesn't have a clue how to handle. He clears his throat. Shakes a few curls loose.

"What makes you think he'd want me to?"

Maddie's perfected the unimpressed eyebrow. It must be a parent thing.

Tommy barely holds in the sigh. "Go enjoy your meal."

---

Evan's been watching the door. It's clear the moment Tommy makes it to the threshold - he presses up, winces, tips sideways just enough to peek around the corner.

"Tommy," he says, and his expression melts.

Tommy's heard some iteration of that name a million times. Tom, from his dad. Tommy, fond and quiet from his mother, who'd never really learned how to speak up before she was gone. Thomas, in school, from teachers annoyed that he wouldn't just apply himself.

He was Kinard, to teammates, then fellow soldiers, to the firefighters he'd worked alongside for a decade before he ever let any of them know him.

No one says his name with quite so much reverence as Evan Buckley. He's convinced himself, over the last few weeks, that he'd been hearing adulation in that tone. But now it just sounds...relieved. Happy.

Evan slumps back and tries to cross his arms in a pout. There are too many cords and wires attached to him for it to work. "I'm pretty sure I'm mad at you," he says, and Tommy steps over the threshold.

---

Hobbes sounds fucking thrilled to find out he's going to be down a pilot for five days.

Evan throws a fit when he finds out Tommy's plan is to sleep on his own couch for the short duration of Evan's stay. Evan wins the proceeding argument and doesn't even complain that Tommy hadn't argued too hard

Bobby brings over enough leftovers to keep them in turkey sandwiches for a week, and Tommy doesn't think to ask how he got Tommy's address.

Tommy breathes. Tommy thinks. Once Evan can hold a train of thought for more than five minutes, Tommy talks.

Evan listens.

---

"So no Christmas," Evan pouts, and Tommy wants to bite it. "And no New Year's."

Tommy shifts a hand over his shoulder, tucks his chin over top of it so he can't see the pout anymore. "We were both already working those anyway."

"Do people do anything to celebrate Presidents Day?"

"Evan."

"Tommy," Evan mocks, and pulls far enough away to catch his gaze. "In the interest of transparency that was mostly a cover so I didn't ask about Valentine's Day."

"Is this you not asking about Valentine's Day?"

His smile is deceptively sweet. "I need help with my sandwich."

Tommy's seen him balancing a glass of water, his phone, two books and a takeout bag in his one good hand. He's absolutely full of shit.

Tommy leans forward to grab the sandwich off Evan's plate for him.

---

"You should stay," Tommy says, an hour after midnight two days into the new year. He's tipsy on his second glass of cheap champagne and he can't think of a reason to keep this in, anymore. Evan crinkles a brow at him.

"I... wasn't planning to go?"

There's a gold crown perched in his curls, and Tommy still hasn't taken the cheap plastic 2025 glasses off. The house is quiet, and there'd been shockingly few fires started by fireworks this year, so he's less tired than he'd expected to be.

"I meant -." Tommy starts, and then pauses. "I meant permanently. You should live here."

Evan laughs. Takes a bite out of his cake, and rolls his eyes, and then...stops. His entire body stills. "What."

It's ridiculous. The very thing that had pushed Tommy up out of his seat just a few months ago, sent him out the loft door with wet eyes and a heaviness in his heart.

"Tommy," Evan prompts, and Tommy catches the hand frozen on the countertop. He'd planned to hold this back, wait until something significant or poignant. But Evan had baked them a red velvet cake and argued with him the entire drive back from dinner about the proper way to fold a towel, and Tommy's tired of denying this isn't everything he's refused to let himself want for decades.

"You don't have to say yes just to confirm you're not breaking up with me," he tries to joke, and it falls flat.

"Tommy," Evan murmurs, quieter but more insistent.

"I'm serious. I want you here. I want -."

"Yes," Evan says, and squeezes his hand before he ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry. Continue."

"I want a life with you." The tears tickle at the back of his throat. He's gonna fucking cry, again. He'd always fucking known opening himself up to this was just an invitation for more tears in his life.

He can't quite convince himself the rest doesn't make them worth it.

"Yes. Again. Tommy, of course." He tips his chin. Purses his lips. "If you're sure."

Tommy swallows down the lump in his throat. He's never been more sure or more terrified of anything in his life. So he tells him so.

The words are like knives, but he works his way through the soreness, fights up past the fear that he's not sure will ever completely go away, and claws past the reminder that it's been a blink of an eye since Tommy walked out on this.

"Well. You can't walk out of your own house," Evan points out when he's finished, and of all things, it's that that snaps the tension of for once in his life prioritizing something other than fucking survival. He tips a grin, curls his elbow to bring their entwined hands to his lips. "It's gonna take years to coordinate another Thanksgiving with everyone," he bemoans, looking suspiciously watery-eyed himself as he holds Tommy's own wet gaze.

Tommy can extrapolate from that.

[russo-woso]

This wasn’t planned || USWNT x pregnant!teen!reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Warning Teen pregnancy, morning sickness, cravings, long painful labour and delivery

Summary You fall pregnant very unexpectedly and feel like your falling but your teammates are there to pick you up

A/N I’ve done three different versions of this now with different teams but this is the final one 🫶🏻

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N, what’s wrong hun?” Emily asked as she walked into the bathroom, heating your wracked sobs.

Emily was like your sister, having known you from the US team and Arsenal. You two even lived together in England.

You showed her the pregnancy test, her jaw dropping as she saw pregnant.

You weren’t surprised at her reaction, after all you were only sixteen. You don’t think anyone really expects you to be pregnant so young, but here you were.

“I did it once, Em. I was at that stupid party I told you about and I hooked up with a guy. It wasn’t even that long. Twenty second if that. And he wore a condom! I don’t get what happened.” You sobbed, Emily holding your shaking body.

“I know, hun. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Emily whispered repeatedly, stroking your hair. “The girls will be with you the whole way through. I promise. I’ll help you.”

You didn’t believe her at first, thinking that everyone would judge you.

But surprisingly, Emily was right.

You had no choice but to tell the team, some of them bringing up that you were constantly sick, especially in the mornings.

“Y/N, are you okay? I saw you run in here.” Sophia asked as you continued to throw up in the toilet.

She rubbed your back as you threw up, holding your hair back too.

“Hun, you’ve been sick every single day this week. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You debated whether to lie or not, but you figured you’d be telling her soon anyway.

“I’m pregnant.” You revealed.

“Oh my god… hun, this is big. I’m here for you, okay?”

“Thank tou.” You sent her a weak smile before hugging her.

The reactions of the others was similar, promising they’ll help with whatever they could.

There was one person though who you had to tell, Alex.

Alex Morgan was like your mum. After growing up without a mother, Alex took on that role when you joined the USWNT.

In the year you played together, the two of you became so close.

Since she’d retired, you rang her to see if you could meet her somewhere and you agreed a small coffee shop.

You were nine weeks already, the party having been nine weeks ago, so you were starting to show the most tiniest bit hence why you had started to wear baggier clothes.

“Hi, hun!” Alex cheered as you walked though the door.

“Hey, Al.” You sighed, melting into the hug.

You got caught into a conversation when you finally got the confidence to reveal the pregnancy.

“So… I have some news and I don’t really…” you began, feeling tears well in your eyes.

“You’re pregnant?” Alex guessed, your eyes widening in shock.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“I know you, Y/N. The Y/N I know doesn’t wear baggy clothes and she certainly doesn’t not order coffee.” Alex explained, looking at you noticing how emotional you looked. “I’m so proud of you. You’re so good with Charlie, I just know you’re going to be a good mama.”

“Thanks, Alex.” You said between cries

“I’m pregnant too.” Alex revealed

“Are you actually?”

“It’s still really early. I’m gonna announce it when I retire from club football.” Alex said. “So, we’ll have each others backs, huh?”

—

“Em?” You shouted from the living room to Emily who was stood making lunch for you both.

“Yeah?”

“Can you please get the marmite for me. Bubba’s really craving it.” You said, rubbing your now seven month bump.

“Eww, marmite?” Emily replied, grabbing it from the cupboard anyway and bringing it through to you.

“Not my fault.” You told her and she nodded, understanding.

Just as you opened the lid, a knock was heard at the door.

Emily got up to answer it, Alessia and Lotte’s voices filling the house.

“Hiya, Y/N, hiya bubba. They’ve got so big!” Alessia exclaims as she settles on the couch next to you.

“Hi.” You greet back, your mouth full of marmite.

“New craving by any chance?” Lotte asked and you nodded.

“This is the fourth jar this week.” Emily added as you grinned cheekily.

“It’s not my fault the bubba wants it.”

Your phone started ringing and you picked it up to see it was Alex ringing you.

“Hey Al.” You said, lifting yourself off the couch and walking towards your room.

“Hey hun, how you feeling? Emily said bubba’s been kicking you every night.”

“Alex, they won’t stop. I swear, it’s like they do it at night on purpose.” You said, collapsing onto your bed after the difficult journey up the stairs.

“What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.”

“I’ve just walked up the stairs.” You replied, Alex humming, also agreeing with how you were feeling. “Anyways, how are you?”

“Broke, but I’m okay.” Alex said

“Why are you broke?”

“Because I’ve just booked plane tickets to come see one of my favorite girls in England.” Alex responded, a clear smile evident in her voice.

“Alex… no.” You said, shocked.

“Yes, I’ve missed you so much, hun. I want to come see you before bubba is born.”

“Oh my god! When do you come? I’m canceling everything.”

The conversation carried on about when Alex was coming and what you were going to do.

—

You were now approaching the nine month stage.

You were exhausted to say the least. You were tired of being pregnant, you just wanted your baby here already.

You had asked Emily if you could go with to Colney today, wanting to see the Arsenal girls before you have birth.

She said yes, knowing she’d been making you coop up in the house for weeks now.

Maybe it would be good for you to get some fresh air.

“Hey, hun!” Alessia said, watching you waddle into the canteen where all the girls were sat. “You ready for bubba to come?”

“No. I’m dreading it but I can’t wait for them to come.” You responded, still making your way over to where alessia was sat.

“I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Well, you’re not going to wait much longer. Not much longer at all. Maybe today even because by the looks of it, bubba wants to come out now.” You said, looking at the puddle by your feet.

“Oh my god! Your water broke? Emily!” Alessia shouted, clearly panicked.

“Less! Calm down.” You laughed

“Yeah? Y/N! Your water broke!” Emily exclaimed, noticing the puddle at your feet.

“Wow, I hadn’t noticed.” You replied sarcastically, Emily rolling her eyes.

“Come on, hun, let’s get you home.”

—

It had been a long day.

You went home after your water broke, getting changed before timing your contractions.

After three hours, your contractions were bad, but not close enough to each other to go through hospital.

Emily suggested you went on a walk, to try speed up the labour.

You went around the block, waddling along as you walked.

But when you got back, they were only six minutes apart.

It was three o’clock when you finally went to the hospital, five hours after your water had broken.

Your contractions were close together now and were painful. Very very painful.

Emily drove to the hospital, holding your hand for support and comfort.

When you arrived, the nurses guided you to your room, allowing you to settle first before coming back to check how dilated you were.

“So, you are four centimetres dilated. How long ago did your water break?”

“About five hours ago.” You tell her

“Okay, so normally you would be a lot more further on in labour but there’s no need to worry. Slow labour could be affected by anything. Your age. Your athleticism. Anything.” The nurse explained and you nodded along, trying to focus on her words but it was hard to with a contraction hitting. “I’d recommend trying to get to sleep. It’ll be a long night for you and it might speed things up a bit.”

You took into account the fact that you might not be getting sleep with a newborn so you managed to get a few hours sleep, which actually helped speed up your labour too.

—

You were now nine centimetres dilated.

You had declined the epidural, having a massive fear of needles and after reading the negative effects an epidural could have, you definitely didn’t want it.

You were given gas and air instead, trying to decrease the pain as much as possible.

It was coming close to midnight, your body tired and achy now.

Emily still stayed by your side, rubbing your back and holding your hand.

You were currently knelt against the bed, your head in your arms as they rested on top of the bed.

“I think you’re ready to push.” The midwife announced as she checked how dilated you were.

“Thank god. I don’t know if I can do this for much longer.” You said, letting a sigh of relief out.

“Ready to meet your baby, huh?” Emily asked and you nodded, feeling a contraction coming.

“Ready to push? On three. One, two, three.”

You pushed with all your might, gripping onto Emily’s hands as you did.

“Okay, another one.”

Similar to the first push, you tried your hardest but there seemed to be no improvement.

Emily stroked back your sweat drenched hair, placing a kiss to your forehead as you pushed.

“I’m never having sex again.” You revealed after a push.

“Okay, hun.” Emily laughed

You had now been pushing for over half an hour, but still there seemed to be no sight of your baby.

“Y/N, if we can’t see your baby after this push we’re going to have to rush you in for an emergency C-Section.” The midwife said, and you nodded, knowing it would be for the best.

You were fully exhausted now, having used all your energy on the pushing.

“Hun, you’ve got this.” Emily said, panic on her face.

You groaned into the bed as you pushed, this time, using your whole body to push.

“I can see a head! Keep going, Y/N!” The midwife announced, as you kept pushing. “They’re heads nearly out. One more push and your babies head will be out.”

You pushed once more, this one more painful more than ever as the babies head crowned.

“They’re heads out. Take a breather if you want.” The nurse told you, rubbing your back in support.

“Tissue.” You mumbled to Emily who reached over to the box of tissues, bringing it to your forehead and wiping the sweat off.

“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N. One more big push, and your baby will be here.”

At them words, you pushed, using all your energy.

“They’re here! Your baby girl’s here.” The midwife said, catching your daughter and passing her under to you.

You held her to you chest, looking down at her as you both cried.

“Hi, bubba. I know that was tough, hey? Oh, I know.” You cooed as she cried her little lungs off.

“She’s perfect, hun.” Emily said rubbing your shoulder as she looked down at the baby in your arms.

“I’m gonna take her over here to check her vitals. I won’t be long.”

Whilst your baby girl was being checked over, you pushed the placenta out and moved to the bed.

Your daughter was being passed back to you, this time she was wrapped in a blanket with a small hat on top of her hair, covering her small tuffs of hair.

“She looked like you, Y/N.” Emily said

“You think so?”

“Same nose, same mouth, everything. A mini you.” Emily pointed out

“Would you like to hold her?” You asked Emily and she nodded, an emotional smile taking over her face.

“Hi, bubs. I’m your aunt Emily.” Emily cooed, stroking her finger up and down your daughter’s cheek. “What’s her name?”

“Florence Alexandra Y/L/N.”

“Oh my god, Alex is gonna be so happy.” Emily said

“I’m hoping she is, just like I’m hoping you’d be happy when I ask if you’d be Flo’s godmother?” You asked, Emily’s face lighting up.

“Of course! Oh my god thank you so much, Y/N.” Emily exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

—

After a while, you’d fed Florence and she was now fast asleep in a milk coma on your chest.

Emily was also fast asleep on the seat next to you.

You’d decided to FaceTime Alex to tell her about Florence.

The phone rang a few times before Alex finally picked up.

You’d angled the phone onto where Florence was laying, Alex’s jaw dropped as she focused on what she was looking at.

“They’re here?” Alex asked, you kidding with a tired smile.

“A girl. She’s perfect, Al. I’ve never felt a love like it, I’ve known her for an hour or two but I love her more than anything in the world. I guess you know what that feels like, huh? With Charlie.”

“I feel it with all my kids. Charlie, this baby, and you.” Alex said through tears.

“Al… you’re gonna make me cry.” You told her, blubbering.

“You’re my daughter too, Y/N. Since the moment you came into my life, you’ve been my daughter. Charlie loves you like a big sister too. Anyway, enough crying. What’s bubbas name?”

“Florence Alexandra Y/L/N.” You replied

“Oh my god, forget what I said about the no crying. You named her after me?”

“How could I not? You’re my mom Alex.” You said with a smile

“I love you two so much.”

“We love you too, Alex.”

[romanarose]

My Wife, My Wife, My Wife.

Protective!Logan Howlett x f!reader

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Summary: You're pregnant and take your new husband, Logan, to Thanksgiving with your family. Logan isn't too happy with how you are treated.

Warnings: Toxic families, comments on eating and weight, pregnancy, Roman's daddy and mommy issues.

Dividers by @sister-lucifer

"Dinners ready!" Your moms voice calls out from the kitchen. You'd spent much of the day helping her get the food ready, but needed rest away from the heat. Your pregnancy had made you sensitive to the heat, and Logan always made sure you rested plenty.

Logan takes your arm, helping you off the couch and to the table with strong but gentle guidance. He's always gentle with you, but especially so now that your pregnancy has reached month 8 it was even more so.

Your dad took his seat at the head of the table, the rest of the family filing around the seating, filling up both the adult and kids table to it's max.

"Ladies, why don't we let you guys go ahead and get the mens food first, then we can get the kids." Mom instructs, and the adults and cousins and your sister get up to get their mens meals. You lock eyes with Logan as you start to get up, rolling them with him as he smiles. You did not mind serving Logan, in fact you enjoyed doing things like that for him. Logan was a good husband, he took care of you and you liked to take care of him. But it was the fact your mom expected you to, and that it was the men that always got food first at the table. That's not how it worked in yours and Logans home.

Logan doesn't let you get up, placing a firm hand on your thigh as you smirk up at him. This was going to annoy your mom. "I got it, baby."

Your mom, as predicted, turned to Logan with that clipped but cheerful tone she uses when there is company. "Oh don't worry Logan, she can get it."

"It's alright ma'am" Logan smiles thats disarming smile. He's so handsome, when he smiles its hard to argue. "My wife is pregnant, I think I can handle getting our plates."

Logan gets you first, asking you a few questions here and there 'you want a lot of mac and cheese?' but mostly knowing what you like. You sit in your seat simply glowing as the women in line glance enviously towards you. Their husbands would never. They get plates for their men, then their children, then themselves.

When the table goes around saying what they are thankful for, Logan proudly says, "my wife, and our son" and plants a kiss on your cheek. You feel a little embarrassed you went before him and said modern medicine, but your pregnancy hadn't exactly been easy, so you had your reasons.

When it was time for desert, you asked Logan to get you whipped cream on your cherry pie, which of course your mother had something to say about.

"I don't think that's a good idea, honey." she says quietly next to you.

You glare at your mom, shoveling a large scoop of pie into your mouth. "I'm growing a baby, mom."

"Oh, and the whipped cream provides much needed nutrition?"

Logan leans over, spraying a massive amount of whipped cream onto the pie, spilling over onto the plate.

"If my wife wants whipped cream, whipped cream she'll get."

You make sure to hum in contentment as your mom eats a small slice of pumpkin. No whipped cream.

Your dad, of course, had ignored you most of the day. Ever since you got with Logan, he couldn't act the way he usually did with you, making him one of your dads uhhhhhh less liked people. He couldn't cross your no hugging boundary anymore, Logan always standing protectively close and his arm around you when you said hello's and goodbyes. He couldn't make subtle digs about your hair or tattoos anymore. You never even had a chance to argue anymore, Logan took care of it.

Still, as the evening went on and the alcohol poured (for everyone but you.) he started speaking more freely.

"I bet you're relieved to be having a son, aren't you Logan?"

Your body immediately tensed, and Logan didn't fail to notice. "I don't know what you mean. I'm happy to be having a baby, the sex doesn't really matter."

"I just mean," His mouth is full of chex mix. "You know how women are. Having a daughter can be a lot. They are so dramatic, and god, when they are teenagers-"

"May I remind you you're speaking about my wife when you talk about your daughter?"

Your dads face settle into a hard line. "You know, this whole 'my wife' bit is getting old. You've been married over a year, I think you can act like a normal couple now."

You scoff. "Act like what? make a bunch of jokes about how we hate each other? Surprise, dad, if I didn't like him I wouldn't be married to him."

"See what I mean?" He laughs, ignoring you and turning to Logan. "Women, always putting words in your mouth, pretending you said things you didn't. Just be happy you're having a boy."

Logan squeezed your hand. "I'm happy I'm having a boy because I'm happy we're starting a family. Respectfully, I'd appreciate if you stopped talking about my wife like she's some kind of burden, because she's not."

He laughs again. "C'mon, you're telling me you like it when she she cries at every little thing, or when she gets pissed off for leaving the toilet seat up? It doesn't drive you crazy that she can't wake up early enough to make breakfast? You like when she dresses like a-"

"That's enough!" Logan stands abruptly, and your eyes go wide, hoping he doesn't go too far... but when it comes to you, he's fiercely protective. "I don't mind her crying because it tells me she feels safe enough to show her emotions. She doesn't get mad at me for leaving the toilet seat up because I simply don't do it. She doesn't have to wake up and make me breakfast because this isn't fucking 1955, and I swear to god if you make one more comment about her appearance i will-"

He stops as soon as he feels your hand on his back.

Logan wraps his arm around your waste, guiding you towards the door. "C'mon baby, lets go home." He helps you put on your shoes, kneeling down at your feet without shame to help you slide them on. Before he leaves, Logan turns to face your dad again, unsheathing his claws "Do not ever disrespect my wife again, do you understand?"

Your dad gulped, and nodded.

When you and Logan get outside and close the door, you both burst into laughter.

"Lo!" You exclaim, Logan holding onto you so you don't slip on the snow. "That was a bit excessive, don't you think?" but you were giggling still.

"Nothings too much for my wife." He kissed your cheek, grinning, before opening the car door. When he slides in his side, he finds you smiling fondly at him.

"You know, I used to dread family events. Now i don't have to worry about a thing."

"And you never will. You and our son are never gonna have to worry about anything, okay? Not with me around. And that includes your annoying ass dad."

Once again, the two of you cackle with laughter as he drives off towards home.

happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!!!

I opted to NOT go home for the holidays THANKS 1. my family is a mess 2/ they are 2 hours away 3. I AM STILL FUCKING SICK!!!! i have bronchitis not and its awful. I woke up coughing so hard i vomited. good times.

I went to my friends place though! I love her family. then after lunch i was tired and sick and laid down in the spare bedroom for an hour. then i tried to get though dessert and some games but i had a coughing fit and just had to leave :((( but my friend sent me home with homemade soup and bread!

anyway, if your family makes you feel like shit, fuck em! not literally.

i'm going to bed now. After looking it all up, the best thing i can do to help is drink tea with honey, lots of water, and sleep so thats what im doing

[thef1diary]

riddle me this: how would dirtbag danny react if you came home after a date with another guy? I can imagine him being so demeaning, pitying you since you thought you needed a safer and reliable guy, opposite of daniel basically

(also I’m the same anon from the beer chugging vid, can I be 👩🏻‍🦽anon <- that’s us after a night with dirtbag danny btw)

Nice Isn’t Enough | Dirtbag!Danny

— hi nonnie! so glad you’re back w more dirtbag!danny filth 🤭 yes you can absolutely be 👩🏻‍🦽anon, your reason made me giggle ngl

warnings: 18+, name calling, lotssss of degradation, dirty talk, thigh riding, cruel cruel danny but that’s expected atp

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your latest thoughts and click here for the rest of my blurbs/fics

You entered your apartment, kicking off your heels with a sigh, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips. The date had gone well enough—pleasant conversation, a sweet kiss at the door, and the comforting warmth of normalcy. But just as you let out another sigh, the calm surrounding you shattered the second you heard his voice.

“Aw, was it that bad?”

Your head snapped up. Daniel’s voice dripped with condescension, low and smug, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. He’s sprawled across your couch—legs wide and spread, the hem of his shorts inching dangerously high on his thighs with every lazy shift of his body. One arm is draped over the backrest with a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. He doesn’t look at you immediately, his eyes fixed on the label he’s peeling off, but the smirk tugging at his lips is unmistakable.

“You didn’t even invite him in?” He finally glanced up, his honey brown eyes flicking over you from head to toe, taking in the silk dress that hugged your curves, the faint flush still blooming on your cheeks. His gaze lingered, slow and deliberate, before he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t go as well as you thought, huh?”

Your heart stuttered for a moment���not from fear, but from the sheer audacity. You blinked, caught off guard by both his presence and the sting of his words. “What are you doing here, Daniel?” you asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can.

He leaned back into the cushions, utterly at ease in your space. “What am I doing here?” he echoed, as if the answer should be obvious. “You forgot about our plans for the night.” He shrugged, taking a lazy sip from his beer, the smirk never leaving his face. “And you’re very predictable with your extra key placement, by the way.”

Your stomach twisted. He let himself in. Like it’s nothing. Like you belonged to him—or worse, like your space does.

“I didn’t forget anything,” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that can shield you from the pull of him. “Because we didn’t have plans.”

Daniel’s smirk widens as your lie hangs in the air. He knows. He somehow knows.

“Didn’t have plans, huh?” he murmured, setting the beer bottle down on the coffee table with a soft clink. He rises slowly with the kind of confidence that makes the room feel smaller. Every step he took towards you is measured, deliberate, and your breath catches in your throat despite yourself.

He stopped just a few inches away, the heat of his presence pressing into your skin, the scent of beer, leather, and something deeper—something rich, masculine, and entirely him—invading your senses.

“So,” he started, voice slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring every word. “How was it?” His gaze swept over your face again, lingering on the faint blush still warming your cheeks before noticing the smudge of lipstick from the kiss at the door. “Your little date.”

You took a breath, steadying yourself, refusing to let him rattle you. “It was fine.”

Daniel chuckled softly, a low, mocking sound. “Fine,” he echoed the word like it’s a punchline. “Of course, it was fine. I bet he was a real stand-up guy. Steady job, clean car, probably held the door for you, didn’t he?” His grin widened as he brushed his lips against your ear, “real safe.”

You don’t rise to the bait. Not yet. “He was nice.”

“Nice,” Daniel repeated, almost whispering it like it was the dirtiest word he’s ever heard. His hands found your hips, fingers curling around them, the pads of his thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles against the silky fabric of your dress. “Sure. Nice. Polite, respectful. Asked about your day.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, each word a carefully placed jab. “Took you to some boring-ass restaurant where the biggest thrill was picking between red and white wine, right?”

Your jaw tightened, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His smirk only widened, feeding off your barely concealed irritation.

“But tell me something,” His voice lowered, rough and edged with something darker. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you just the slightest bit closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “Did he look at you like he wanted to tear this dress off you right there in the middle of dinner?”

You blinked, lips parting, but no words came.

Daniel’s eyes searched yours even though it seemed as if he already had the answer. “Did he make you feel it?” His voice is a murmur now, his lips so close to yours you can feel the ghost of his breath. “Like you couldn’t breathe unless his hands were on you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow, but you stood your ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words affect you.

“Or,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, “did he kiss you goodnight and send you home, like a good girl, with a pat on the head and a promise to call?”

Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms to prevent yourself from giving into his kiss, but you refused to look away. “Not everyone is like you, Daniel.” The words are meant to be defiant, but they come out softer than you intended, almost a whisper.

Daniel’s smirk returned, wicked and knowing. “No,” he agreed, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze fully. “Not everyone can be.”

The air between you crackled with tension, a push and pull neither of you wanted to admit to but can’t seem to escape. His hands remain on your hips, grounding you, teasing you, as if he’s daring you to break the silence.

“Let me guess,” he murmured. “He wouldn’t even know what to do with you. Bet he touched you like you were made of glass when he kissed you.” His eyes flicked back up to yours, daring, taunting. “Think he’d fuck you like you want? Like you deserve?”

Your cheeks flushed hot, and you hated the way your body reacted to his words, to the heat in his gaze, to the way his voice wrapped around you and pulled you in.

“Daniel,” you muttered, but it's weak, barely audible.

“Am I wrong?” Daniel stepped back, just a little, his hands falling away from your hips, leaving you cold in his absence. He gives you enough space to breathe, but not enough to escape the weight of his presence.

You swallowed hard, the absence of his touch both a relief and a frustration. His words lingered in the air, hanging over you, daring you to deny them. But you don’t. You can’t.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice low and lazy, like he’s already won. “When you get bored of nice… you know how to reach me.”

He turned, ready to leave, the air between you still buzzing with unspoken tension. But before he could take too many steps away, your voice cut through the silence, soft but firm.

“Daniel. Wait.”

He paused, his back to you, shoulders tense as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll take it back. Slowly, he turned, his gaze locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, every nerve in your body on edge. “You’re right.”

His brow arched, the smirk growing just a fraction. “About what?”

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Finally, you whispered, “Everything.”

Daniel takes a step toward you, then another, until he’s standing in front of you again. He reached out, his fingers catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, unreadable, the smirk on his face both infuriating and intoxicating.

“Gotta tell me more than that, sweetheart,” he drawled, his thumb brushing over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Praise a guy, will ya?”

You inhaled shakily, your eyes locked on his. “I don’t want nice,” you admitted softly, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “I don’t want to settle, or something safe and reliable. I don’t want…him.”

Daniel’s smirk deepened, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. His thumb lingers on your chin, teasingly light, but his eyes—those dark, relentless eyes—hold you in place. “Yeah?” he murmured, the mockery evident in his tone. “Guess nice didn’t quite do it for you, huh?”

You shook your head slightly, the tension between you crackling like static. “It’s not enough,” you whispered, barely recognizing your voice.

He hummed in satisfaction, tilting his head as if to study you, figuring out just how far you’re willing to go. “Thought you might come around,” he said softly. “Nice is good for a Sunday brunch with your parents. For hand-holding and little promises that don’t mean shit. But that’s not what you really want, is it?”

You don’t answer, but your silence is enough. He sees it, feels it in the way you lean in ever so slightly, drawn to the heat of him, the pull you’ve been resisting for far too long.

“Come here,” he whispered, stepping back toward the couch and guiding you with him. His hands find your hips again, pulling you down onto his lap, your knees settling on either side of him. The intimacy of the position stole your breath, but you didn't pull away.

You hover inches away from his lips, your breath mingling with his, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. His hands grip your hips, firm and possessive, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. Your heart raced, every nerve in your body screaming to close the distance, to give in.

But before you do, you pressed your hands against his chest, feeling the heat of him through the thin fabric of his shirt. “This doesn’t mean I’m in love with you,” you said sharply.

Daniel chuckled, low and mocking, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Good,” he replied, amused. “Because I’m not in love with you either.” His fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. “Why would I want that?” His voice is smooth, dripping with pity and condescension. “Love’s not really your thing anyway, is it? Or mine for that matter.”

Heat creeped up your cheeks, both from his words and the infuriating smirk on his face. You should push him away, should walk out, but instead, you do the exact opposite.

You kissed him.

It’s not tentative or gentle—it’s fierce, all-consuming, a kiss that feels like surrender and defiance all at once. His lips are warm, demanding, and he meets your desperation with his own, his hands moving from your hips to the small of your back, holding you tight against him.

Your dress was already rising, the fabric sliding higher as you shifted against him, your knees pressing into the couch on either side of his hips. His fingers slipped under the hem, pushing it up and over your waist with ease, leaving you bare save for the black lace of your panties.

He pulled back just enough to drink you in, his dark eyes roaming over you like you’re something he owned. Your thighs are bare and trembling against the heat of him. His gaze drops to the lace barely covering you, his smirk curling into something cruel, something wicked.

“Now,” he breathed, his voice thick with mockery, “why don’t you show me just how fucking done you are with nice?”

Before you could respond, his hand was already between your legs, rough fingers hooking under the delicate lace covering your pussy and yanking it to the side, baring you completely. The cool air hits your cunt, making you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the way his eyes darkened as he took you in.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His fingers slide between your folds, slow and deliberate, parting you with a precision that’s designed to drive you mad. He doesn’t give you what you want—not yet. Instead, he toyed with you, dragging his fingertips through your slickness, barely brushing your clit before pulling away again, leaving you aching and desperate.

A soft, involuntary whimper escapes your lips, and he catches it, smirking like he’s already won. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice low and filthy. “Already dripping for me, huh? Guess nice really wasn’t cutting it.”

His fingers returned, this time rougher, sliding through your slick heat, spreading it over you, coating you in your own arousal. He pressed the pads of two fingers against your hole, teasing you with the barest hint of pressure before pulling back once again, making you grind your hips in frustration.

Daniel chuckled, dark and condescending, his grip on your hip tightening to keep you exactly where he wants you. “Patience, sweetheart,” he mocked, his lips curling into a cruel grin. “You want to get fucked like you deserve? You’ve gotta earn it.”

Without warning, he shifted your hips, forcing you down onto his thigh—his bare, tattooed thigh—and the heat of him against your slick folds sent a jolt of pleasure through you. He pressed you down, grinding you against him, the roughness of his skin dragging against your clit, making you gasp.

“Yeah,” he groaned, his voice pure sin. “Just like that. Go ahead—ride it. Show me how desperate you really are.”

You don’t even think—you just move, instinctively grinding down against his thigh, chasing the friction, the heat, the overwhelming need coursing through you. Each drag of your slick folds against the hard muscle of his thigh sends sparks shooting through your body, your clit throbbing with every rock of your hips. You’re a mess already, and you know it, but you don’t care. Not anymore. Pride, shame—none of it matters now. All you can focus on is the pleasure building inside you, desperate and raw.

Daniel knows it too, and he revels in it. His hands grip your hips, guiding your movements, controlling the pace as if he owns you.

“Look at you,” he sneered, voice low and dripping with disdain. His hands slid up your sides, rough and deliberate, until they reached the neckline of your dress. Without hesitation, he pulled the fabric down, exposing your bare tits to the cool air and his heated stare. His thumb brushes over one hardened nipple, making you gasp, before he pinches it roughly, just to hear the sound you make.

“Fuck,” he drawled, eyes flicking between your flushed face and your exposed chest. “Imagine if your date saw you like this—grinding on me like a desperate little slut.” His smirk deepened, cruel and knowing. “Think he’d still ask you out again? Or would he see you for what you really are? My filthy, needy little whore who can’t get off unless someone makes her earn it.”

His words cut deep, filthy and degrading, and they ignite something inside you, something dark and hungry. You can feel the heat of his thigh against you, the pressure building with every roll of your hips, and it’s maddening. He leaned in, lips brushing against your ear, his voice a harsh whisper.

“Bet he’d be fucking shocked, huh?” Daniel continued, his tone dripping with condescension. “Good girls like you aren’t supposed to act like this. But here you are—tits out, soaking my thigh, and fucking yourself like you can’t help it.” His hands tighten on your hips, forcing you down harder, grinding you deeper into him. “Such a fucking pretty mess. Keep going, sweetheart. Show me how much you love being dirty for me.”

Your movements grew frantic, driven by the overwhelming mix of sensations—the rough drag of his skin against your soaked folds, the burning heat of his thigh flexing beneath you, each hard muscle shifting and tightening as if made just to ruin you. He bounces it once, twice, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, and a helpless moan tumbles from your lips, loud and shameless.

“Yeah,” Daniel groaned, watching you with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “That’s it. Let me hear how desperate you are.” His hands roam over your body, possessive and rough, sliding up to cup your tits, squeezing them in his large, calloused hands. His thumbs flicked over your nipples, rolling and pinching the sensitive peaks, making you arch your back and grind harder against him.

“Go on dates with any guy,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear, voice taunting. “But I know you’ll always come back to me for a good fuck.”

Your breath stuttered, every nerve in your body screaming for release, and you whimpered his name. His smirk deepened, a cruel, triumphant twist of his lips.

“You’re so desperate for a good fuck, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes dark and full of sin. “You want more, don’t you? You want my cock.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, pressing down lightly. “Be a good, obedient slut for me, and maybe I’ll give it to you. I know how much you love it—how much you need it filling you up.”

The promise, the filth in his words, makes a loud whine leave your lips, his name spilling repeatedly. Your hips jerk against his thigh, chasing more, needing more.

“Mm, that’s right, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Say my name. Scream it.”

His thigh flexed again, and you rode it harder, grinding down with desperation, your wetness slicking his skin. You’re close—so fucking close—and he knows it. His eyes burn with amusement and something darker as he leans in, his teeth grazing your jaw before his tongue flicks out to taste you.

“Think he stuck around outside?” Daniel’s voice is a low rumble, thick with arrogance. “He probably heard you if he did. Every little moan. Every scream.” His words sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through you, the humiliation and pleasure intertwining, tightening the coil in your pussy.

“He should’ve come inside,” he continued, biting down gently on the curve of your neck, making you gasp. “Wanted to show him how you beg for me. How you fall apart on my thigh. How you’re mine to fuck.”

Your hips bucked uncontrollably, grinding against him with frantic need. His fingers dig into your waist, guiding your every movement, every desperate thrust. He bounced his thigh again, the rough drag of his skin against your swollen clit sending you spiraling over the edge.

“Look at you,” he breathed, eyes locked on yours, watching every tremble, every shudder. “Such a pretty little slut, using me to get off. So fucking wet—so fucking needy.”

Your vision blurred, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you cry out his name, loud and broken, just like he wanted. His hands hold you steady, his thigh flexing beneath you one last time, drawing out every shiver, every whimper, until you collapse against him, spent and trembling in his arms.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, your body trembling as he dragged every last aftershock from you.

You shifted slightly, your head resting against his shoulder, heart pounding, breath shaky. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, cocky triumph.

“See?” he whispered, lips curling into a smirk that’s both dangerous and devastating. “You don’t need nice. You just need me.”

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip one last time, slow and deliberate, before he leaned in close, his mouth grazing your ear.

“And you’ll be back, sweetheart,” he breathed, the promise dark and certain. “Because you always come back.”

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[dollishsz]

BATBOYS GENERAL HCS DURING DATING ── .✦

a/n: my posts are barely getting engagement so it would be nice to reblog + like + cmmt tysm! Also

I’m so tired because I don’t know what I want to do with myself when like writing because I don’t have much ideas yk, (I do have a lottt of ideas just don’t want to like spam and idk how to like execute it correctly so ya) but I’m so grateful I’m back!

(Tags: batboys general hcs + fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Compliments: Dick will compliment you constantly, but they’re the slightly extra kind. “You look like you just walked off the cover of a magazine… Or like you’re about to rob a bank with your style, and I’m here for it.”

Date Nights: Dick is a hopeless romantic mixed a romantic flirty person. He'll plan elaborate date nights that are almost too perfect. You're having a candlelit dinner on a rooftop... until a mosquito swoops by, and you both spend 20 minutes trying to catch it.

Awkwardly Adorable: Dick tries so hard to be smooth, but when it’s just the two of you, he ends up tripping over his words, saying things like “I love you… like… in a non-creepy way… I mean, I know that sounds creepy but—“, “you know dick, you could’ve just told me you loved me no need for all that extra yapping.”

Sharing Food: He can’t resist sharing his food with you but will dramatically defend his fries. “No, you can't have any. This is the last one. You’ll be fine. It’s called 'the sacrifice of love.'”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Cute: Jason might be brooding and grumpy on the outside, but once he gets comfortable with you, he’s a sucker for giving you the best hugs. They’re just not as soft as you expect, because, well, he’s Red Hood and that’s not very 'soft' in his book.

Love Language: He definitely has a love language of throwing sarcastic remarks at you to show affection. “I’m just saying, you look so good, I might actually let you live longer than five minutes without me.”

Meme Sharing: Jason will share the funniest memes with you, and he will laugh harder than anyone else when you send him a reaction meme. You two could spend hours going through meme after meme while ignoring his patrol responsibilities.

Late Night Conversations: He’s always the first to text at 3 am just to say, “I’m not okay. Also, I think I might’ve made pasta in the Batcave, but it’s 80% burnt and half of the 20% is missing on the ground in other words, it’s fully burnt. You in?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Puns & Dad Jokes: Tim is the king of puns. You might be mid-sentence talking about something serious, and he’ll sneak in, “Well, that’s egg-sactly what I was thinking.”

Organizing Everything: Tim will have a notebook just for your relationship. He organizes things like "future plans," "annoying habits to change," and “how we can both pretend to be normal in public.”

Overthinking: Tim might send you long, thoughtful texts about nothing and everything, then panic and delete them. Later, you get a short text that says, “Hey, I like you. It’s cool. Let’s go save Gotham.”

Netflix & Research: On date nights, Tim is all about watching a documentary on some obscure topic. You wanted to watch a rom-com? Nope. Tim says, “Let’s learn about the history of ancient pizza ovens.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Fiercely Protective: Damian will go full boss mode in a relationship. If someone even looks at you wrong, he’s ready to challenge them to a duel. You’ve never seen someone challenge a guy at the coffee shop to a sword fight over a latte until you met him.

Literally Shakespeare: He has this bizarre habit of reciting random Shakespeare quotes when trying to express his feelings. “My love for you is like a tempest, crashing and relentless. Also, I think you forgot to add sugar in my coffee.”

Jealousy: He’ll get jealous of even the smallest things. That random guy who offered to help you with your grocery bags? Damian’s glaring at them from across the parking lot, preparing his “You’re not worthy” speech.

Tenderness: Don’t be fooled by his brooding exterior. Damian will get you flowers (in his own way) — like a very dramatic single red rose that he purchased with the least amount of emotion possible, but you know he spent an hour picking the perfect one.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Grumpy But Loyal: Bruce is that partner who takes a long time to warm up to things, but once he’s in, he’s in 100%. He’ll still be grumpy, though. If you show up in a bat-themed shirt, you’ll get a raised eyebrow and a grunt that could probably level an entire building.

Affectionate In His Own Way: Bruce will bring you your favorite coffee without asking because he’s been paying attention to your usual order for the past six months. But if you say anything about it, he’ll act like he’s annoyed. “I’m Batman. I don’t do things for people.”

Overprotective: He’ll put the Batcomputer between the two of you if he’s feeling protective, even if it’s completely unnecessary. Someone bumps into you? Bruce is already three steps ahead, tracking their life history and figuring out their deepest secrets, just in case.

Romantic, But Quiet About It: Bruce can’t show his love through words, but the way he gives you his jacket when it’s cold speaks volumes. Of course, he acts like it was an accident. “I didn’t want you to catch a cold, that’s all. I’m not a softy, don’t read into it.”

GENERAL TRAITS FOUND IN THEM ── .✦

Matching Outfits: They’ll all pretend like they’re too cool for matching outfits, but one day they’ll catch themselves accidentally twinning with you, and neither of you can ever act normal again.

In Public: They’ll all act like they don’t care if you hold their hand in public, but if anyone tries to grab your hand instead, they’ll give them a glare that could freeze a person in place.

Batman’s Turtleneck: Every Batboy secretly loves when Bruce wears his iconic black turtleneck and glasses. They all think Bruce looks like a mysterious intellectual, and they might just start commenting on it to mess with him. Bruce is too focused on Gotham to care.

[ultravi0lence14]

Rhiannon

dean winchester x hippie!reader

1.4k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: as stevie nicks once said; wouldn’t you love to love her. dean could agree with that statement. one hundred percent.

*based on this request

the early morning sun shined in through your window, arrays of pinks, purples and blues mixing in from the multiple coloured crystals and little stained glass designs you had bought. this is why dean loved coming to your apartment. the atmosphere. all the comfort and peace the you had brought into it.

you were the calm that dean needed in his hectic life. the anchor the held him down when things got too much.

he met you when sam had left for stanford, the wounds fresh as he threw back shot after shot in a dingy bar. you were just passing through, a couple of miles away from your apartment and needing to quickly stop somewhere to use the bathroom.

dean’s eyes caught you moving across the bar, the way your jeans hugged your lower half and the flower pattern on your tank top drawing him in. when you retreated from the ladies room, dean was on you like a predator on prey, attempting to elicit a little one night stand.

but you politely declined. though when you tried to walk away from the beaten down man, you saw something else entirely in his eyes.

he looked sad, and you couldn’t help but a feel a bit of empathy for the guy in front of you.

that is how you were raised. your parents telling you to always look for the good in people, being aware of emotions. you weren’t stupid, you understood when people were trying to take advantage of you. but you just liked to be helpful, wanting to make an impact one person at a time.

for the rest of the night, you sat with dean in a booth as he rambled on about his brother and what had happened. he told you that he understood why sam wanted to go on to get a higher education, but he just couldn’t understand why it had to be so far away; why it made their father so angry.

you comforted him the best to your ability. explaining that sometimes people needed a change in their life, and just because his brother left for university doesn’t mean he stopped loving him.

when you both went your separate ways in the parking lot, you couldn’t help but notice the stumble in dean’s step. he knew he was too intoxicated to drive, and was fully prepared to sleep in the impala stationed in the parking lot of the bar.

something inside of you believed that you needed to be of help to this man. and in hindsight, you did the stupidest thing you possibly could’ve done. the one thing parents always warned their kids not to do.

you invited dean to crash at your place.

it was dumb, you knew that. you had just met dean, and he could be an axe murderer for all you know. but the guy was really going through it. and he was so drunk, that you believed the weight of any harmful object in his hands would probably knock him down.

that night, dean slept on your couch, peaceful snores leaving his lips as you slept comfortably in your bed. when he woke up in the morning, dean completely forgot where he was. and then it all came back to him. seeing you in the bar, trying to sleep with you, you turning him down, which then turned into a therapy session that landed him to crash on your couch.

dean was fully planning on leaving, but he couldn’t help himself in taking a peak around your place.

from the couch, he could see the multitude of plants and flowers the covered your living space. it was like a garden, a comforting vibe that also warranted a lovely smell to the home.

there was colour all over the place. from the stained glass lamps on coffee tables to the rows of crystals hanging on string in front of your window. everything was so bright and colourful, and dean couldn’t help himself but stare at the moving colours across the wall.

he also smelt a lingering lavender smell, which was then over powered by the aroma of bacon and pancakes coming from somewhere else in your home. dean couldn’t help himself, he loved bacon. so like a man hypnotized, he followed the debilitating scent of bacon that lingered throughout the air.

as he made his way into the kitchen, he found that the rest of your home was just like the living area. adorned by breezy light pink curtains was a small window over your sink, housing mini plants a crystals alike. there were flowers everywhere. an arrangement by the stove, on the counter, even in the sink. it was overwhelming, but in a good way.

“wow,” he mumbled, groggily slumping into one of the bar stools in front of your counter. “that’s a lot of flowers.”

dean’s voice brought a laugh from your lips, making him look over to where you stood by the stove, stacking pancakes possibly as tall as he was. to this day, dean doesn’t know what it was in the room. all the flowers and greenery, the slight breeze from the open window, maybe it was just your intoxicating beauty. but at that very moment, you looked absolutely ethereal.

you just looked so pretty. the long white skirt falling loosely on your hips. the simple black t shirt that made a perfect canvas for the two braids you put in your hair. he looked down to notice that you were wearing crazy coloured striped socks on your feet, and dean couldn’t help but smile at the little pop of colour that you added to your otherwise basic outfit.

bringing over two plates of breakfast, you sat beside dean at the counter and ate together, just talking and getting to know one another.

it was a simple morning, filled with laughs and weird fun facts that you two threw each others way. when you told him you planned to go to the farmers market, dean couldn’t help himself in taking your offer to come with.

he had never even been to one, not even caring in the slightest for what they had to offer. but some part of dean didn’t want this day to end, and in his heart, he knew he wanted to get to know you more.

you two spent the late morning walking around the farmers market, you grabbing some fresh produce and more crystals as dean took in his surroundings. some of the people he saw looked a little weird, but he knew they probably meant well, and that everything here honestly wasn’t so bad.

when you had grabbed a couple assortments of flowers, telling dean you planned to make some flower crowns at home, he also couldn’t resist in coming back to your place and weaving the stems together by your side.

you two were in a comfortable silence, weaving the crowns in synchrony when dean couldn’t help but break it. “why do you like flowers so much? i can’t help but notice how many you have in your living room alone.”

his words elicited a gorgeous smile from you, and you then went on to explain why you held them so dearly to your heart. “there is just something so beautiful about a flower. they start from a simple seed, then grow into something amazing. i know that probably sounds dumb and i might sound insane, but i just love the whole ideology of it.

“that isn’t dumb, and you most definitely don’t sound insane.” dean had placed his flowers on the ground, slowly reaching out to grab your hand. “in my life, i have to look for the good things at any chance i can find. it’s sometimes nice to have a flower grow out of a bad situation.”

his words brought a soft smile to your lips, and you squeezed his hand before going back to your weaving. “you know, i didn’t expect you to go so philosophical on me there winchester.”

dean grinned back, grabbing his flowers again and following your motions. “well, i’m just full of surprises, flower.”

after that, you and dean spent so much time together. and when dean finally got the courage to kiss you for the first time, it was like everything was more clear to him.

he understood sam’s leaving, and he even tried to reach out to him. he started coming into his own, becoming his own person and even fighting back to his father when he called you a temporary distraction.

that was all years ago. and now, as dean laid beside you, checking his phone to see if sam texted him about any cases, he couldn’t help but silently thank you for all that you’ve done for him.

with a kiss on your cheek, and a mumbled, “i love you, flower,” dean peacefully fell back asleep with you in his arms, completing him in ways he never knew he needed.

[joelsrose]

Good Neighbours: Chapter 1

NEW SERIES!!! i know yall are still waiting for the next chapter of guns and roses its still in the worksss

no warnings, slow burn - reader is 24, joel is in his mid 40s

The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that presses heavy against your chest. The space that had once been your sanctuary now feels cold and lifeless, stripped of everything that made it yours.

Boxes are stacked against the walls, their edges frayed from too much tape and too little care. The bare floors creak under your steps, each sound echoing like a reminder of how empty this place has become. Your eyes linger on the window by the fire escape, the view of the city you used to love now feeling distant, like it belongs to someone else entirely.

Chicago had been your dream. The bustling streets, the never-ending noise, the late nights at cramped bars with friends, and the early mornings at the publishing house, fueled by coffee and ambition. It was everything you’d wanted—until it wasn’t.

Your life here didn’t fall apart all at once; it unraveled slowly, piece by piece. The first crack was the breakup, a betrayal that still feels like a sucker punch every time you think about it. Three years with someone who looked you in the eye and lied. Someone who had the audacity to cheat on you with your ex-best friend.

That revelation shattered something deep inside you, leaving a hollow ache you couldn’t quite fill. You cried for weeks, the kind of crying that leaves your chest raw and your pillow soaked, until eventually, even your tears gave up. When that ended, it took more than just your relationship—it took the version of yourself who believed in happy endings.

Then came the job. Or rather, the lack of it. Months of feeling distracted and unsteady after the breakup led to a mistake on a project too big to recover from. You were let go with a sympathetic smile and a box of your things, the kind of professional pity that only makes the sting worse. With no savings to fall back on and no one to catch you, you were forced to face the one option you had left: starting over. Somewhere far away from all of this.

That’s how you ended up on the phone with Uncle Ray, the one steady, no-nonsense presence in your life. When he offered you a place to stay in Texas, you hesitated at first—what did you know about small towns, about fixing cars and country music and people who knew your name before you even introduced yourself?

But you didn’t have much of a choice. A fresh start sounded like the only thing that might save you from drowning in everything you’d lost.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You stood outside the airport, feeling entirely out of place as sweat clung to your skin. You hadn’t expected it to be this hot, the kind of heat that seemed to cling to you, making the air feel heavier.

Tugging at the hem of your shirt, you scrolled through your phone mindlessly, the notifications blurring together as you tried to distract yourself from the awkwardness of waiting. Then, you heard it—a low rumble that grew louder with every second, the unmistakable sound of a truck’s engine.

Looking up, you spotted it, an old Ford pickup that had seen better days but still rumbled along with purpose. Uncle Ray was behind the wheel, his grin wide as he pulled up to the curb. He climbed out, his arms open as he approached you.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted warmly, pulling you into a hug that smelled faintly of motor oil and aftershave. He felt solid, familiar, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax into it.

"Hey," you returned, your voice softer than you intended.

"You ready to head home?" he asked, leaning back to give you an appraising look.

Home. The word felt foreign, strange on your tongue, but you nodded anyway, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I’m ready."

The truck’s interior was worn and weathered, the seats cracked in places—a surprising sight considering Uncle Ray was a mechanic. Yet, it carried a charm all its own, a lived-in feel that spoke of countless miles and stories etched into every scuff and tear. As you settled in, pressing your back against the sun-warmed vinyl, Uncle Ray climbed in beside you, his fingers deftly adjusting the stubborn air conditioner until it rattled to life with a sigh.

The scenery outside was nothing like Chicago. Gone were the towering buildings and chaotic traffic, replaced by open stretches of land that seemed to go on forever. Fields of green, the occasional barn, and roads that seemed to shimmer under the weight of the heat. The town came into view slowly, a scattering of small businesses, a diner with a flickering neon sign, and houses spaced far enough apart to feel lonely.

You thought about the last time you’d seen Uncle Ray. Years ago, he’d taken you fishing on one of his rare visits up north. He’d been the same then—chill, a little chubby, always ready with a story that had you laughing until your stomach hurt.

"You holding up okay?" he asked, his eyes darting to you briefly as the truck slowed to take a turn.

"Yeah," you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you finally reached his neighborhood, you leaned forward, taking it all in. The houses were modest but well-kept, each with a wide porch and a patch of green that looked as though it had been freshly mowed. Kids played on the sidewalks, their laughter echoing in the warm air. It was the kind of neighborhood where people probably knew everyone’s name and said hello every morning.

Uncle Ray pulled into the driveway of a double-story house with faded blue shutters and a swing on the front porch. The lawn was dotted with a few wildflowers.

"Here we are," Uncle Ray announced, cutting the engine. "Home sweet home."

You stepped out of the truck, the scent of freshly cut grass and something sweet—maybe honeysuckle—filling the air.

As you reached for the first overstuffed suitcase, your gaze drifted to the houses next door. Neatly trimmed lawns, colorful flowers in hanging baskets, and wide porches with rocking chairs. It was idyllic, picturesque even—a world away from Chicago's cramped apartments and noisy streets.

Your new neighbors.

It was strange being back in suburbia, where people probably waved over fences and borrowed sugar like a scene straight out of an old movie. In Chicago, you hardly saw the people next to you.

Sure, you’d hear them: the clattering of keys as they stumbled in after a late night, the thud of their running shoes as they left for an early workout. But no one lingered for niceties or exchanged cheerful "good mornings" like they probably did here.

You were lost in your thoughts, trying to reconcile this new reality, when you heard a low chuckle from the front of the truck. Uncle Ray was leaning against the hood, talking animatedly to someone.

His laughter carried easily in the warm, sticky air, a sound you’d always found comforting. Curious, you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of who he was talking to.

That’s when you saw him.

He stood tall, broad shoulders casting a shadow that stretched over the gravel driveway. His hands rested on his hips in a way that made him look like he owned the space around him, completely at ease. He wore a plain t-shirt, faded from too many washes, stretched just enough to hint at the strength beneath.

His jeans hung low on his hips, worn at the knees, and scuffed boots completed the look. He wasn’t trying—God, he wasn’t even trying—but the way he carried himself made it hard to look away.

He had to be in his mid-40s, the faintest streaks of silver catching in his dark hair, but that only made him more handsome. Ruggedly so, in a way that felt deeply unfair.

"There she is," Uncle Ray called, catching you staring. He waved you forward, his grin wide. "C’mere, kiddo. Meet our neighbor."

Reluctantly, you abandoned your luggage and crossed the driveway. Every step felt heavier under Joel’s gaze—or Mr. Miller, as Uncle Ray had introduced him—but when you got closer, you noticed his eyes. Warm, earthy brown and piercing all at once, like he could see straight through you.

"This is my niece," Uncle Ray said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. "She’s staying with me for a little while. And this here," he motioned toward the man, "is Mr. Miller. Lives right next door."

"Nice to meet you, darlin’," Joel said, his voice low and smooth, with a Southern drawl that seemed to settle into your bones.

Oh, right. The pet names. Sweetheart, honey, darlin’—you’d heard them at least fifteen times since your plane landed, each one dripping with charm. But coming from him, as his hand reached out to envelop yours in a firm, calloused grip, it felt different. Better. You liked it more than you cared to admit.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller," you replied, your voice softer than you intended. His hand was rough and large, making yours feel almost laughably small.

He shook his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Call me Joel, please. Mr. Miller makes me feel like I oughta be signing up for a retirement home."

You couldn’t help it; you laughed. A genuine laugh that bubbled out before you could stop it. He smiled at that, a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips, but it was there. You noticed.

Uncle Ray, ever the social one, leaned in conspiratorially, a sly grin on his face. "Hey, Joel, how’s Sarah? She’s what—23 now? Same age as this one," he added, nudging you lightly with his elbow, as if you were part of some inside joke you hadn’t been let in on.

"I'm 24," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. For some reason, you thought it might make you sound more mature in front of the very much older man standing before you. Immediately, you regretted it—like he needed to know or cared about the one-year gap.

"Same difference," Uncle Ray said with a wave of his hand, completely unbothered.

But Joel raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement passing through his dark eyes.

"She’s good," Joel said, "Working over at the diner, keeping herself busy."

You must have furrowed your brows because Joel caught it immediately. "Sarah’s my daughter," he said, clarifying before you had to ask.

"Oh," you said, feeling a little silly.

Of course, he had a family. He probably had a wife, too. Your gaze drifted toward his house, half-expecting to see her step outside—a vision of blonde hair and a warm, effortless smile. The kind of woman who bakes cookies from scratch, smells like vanilla and sunshine, and waves cheerfully to the neighbors. Maybe there was even a golden retriever named Benji, lounging inside on the couch, completing the perfect picture.

"I’d love to meet her," you offered, trying to mask the pang of disappointment you didn’t fully understand. "I don’t really know anyone here yet."

Plus, my ex-best friend kinda betrayed me by sleeping with my boyfriend, so I could really use some new friends, you thought bitterly, the memory flaring for a moment before you shoved it back down.

"Course, she'd love that" Joel replied easily, his tone warm. "Y’all are coming over tomorrow for the barbecue, right?"

"Course," Uncle Ray said, already moving toward the house as his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. "Wouldn’t miss it. Joel makes the best ribs in town," he called over his shoulder with a quick smile.

Then his expression shifted as he glanced at the screen. "Sorry, it’s work—I gotta take this," he muttered, answering the call with a distracted wave before disappearing inside.

And just like that, it was just you and Joel.

You stood there, awkward and unsure, while he seemed entirely at ease, hands still resting on his hips. He had a way about him—calm, confident, charismatic.

"You need help with your bags?" he asked, tilting his head toward the suitcases you’d abandoned.

"Oh," you blinked, realizing you’d completely forgotten about them. "No, I should be fine."

Joel’s gaze shifted to the two enormous suitcases that were clearly over the weight limit, and he raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a laugh. "You sure about that?"

Before you could protest, he was already moving, lifting one suitcase with ease and hoisting it into his arms like it weighed nothing. You couldn’t help but notice the way his bicep flexed, the fabric of his t-shirt pulling taut as he carried the weight effortlessly. It was distracting, the kind of subtle strength that you knew he wasn’t showing off—it was just there, in every deliberate movement.

"You pack bricks in here or somethin’?" he asked, his tone light and teasing, as he glanced back over his shoulder. That faint smirk tugged at his lips, like he’d caught you in the act of staring, though he didn’t say it outright.

Your cheeks burned instantly. "No, I just—uh, I guess I overpacked," you stammered, trying and failing to sound unaffected.

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head as he grabbed the second suitcase, hefting it just as effortlessly as the first. "Just teasin' darlin" he said simply, his voice steady, but something about the way he said it—calm and self-assured—left your stomach fluttering.

This was going to be a problem.

Your cheeks burned, and you hoped the heat of the day would mask the blush creeping across your face. "Thanks," you mumbled, biting back a smile.

He carried the second suitcase up the porch and set it down with a satisfied nod. "There. Easy enough." He turned back to you, his gaze holding yours for a second longer than necessary.

"Well," he said, his voice low and steady, "Welcome to Texas." Your name rolled off his tongue in that unmistakable drawl, each syllable slow and deliberate, like he was tasting it.

It settled in the air between you, making your knees feel just a little weaker, your chest tightening in a way that you refused to acknowledge.

You swore he gave you a once-over before he strode back toward his house, his boots crunching against the gravel. Just before he reached his door, he glanced over his shoulder and tipped his head.

"See you tomorrow," he said, and then he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart doing something entirely inconvenient in your chest.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

After dinner—a greasy but satisfying burger and fries from the local diner—you finally settled into your room. It was modest, with a bed tucked into the corner and walls painted a soft beige. A worn wooden dresser sat against one wall, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from a small sachet tucked into the bedside drawer. It wasn’t much, but it was cozy enough.

What caught your attention, though, was the window. It faced the backyard, and as you peered out, you realized it looked straight into Joel’s. The same backyard you’d be standing in tomorrow night for the barbecue.

The space was neat, with a patio table and chairs under a faded umbrella, a small grill parked in the corner, and string lights dangling above. You could imagine it already—laughter, the smoky scent of ribs, and Joel moving easily through it all, a beer in hand and that rugged smile.

Shaking off the thought, you flopped back onto the bed, the mattress letting out a soft creak under your weight. With your phone in your hand you unlocked the screen and hesitated for a moment. Your fingers opened Instagram hovering over the search bar before typing: J-o-e-l M-i-l-l-e-r.

You weren’t a stalker—you told yourself that twice as you pressed search. You just wanted to know more about him. Maybe seeing his wife, his family, would yank your head out of the ridiculous fantasies that had started creeping in since the moment he’d carried your suitcase like it weighed nothing.

Nothing.

The results came up empty, just a scattering of people who were very obviously not the Joel Miller you were looking for. You sighed, biting your lip, and switched apps.

Facebook. He was older—he probably wasn’t on Instagram anyway.

Jackpot. There it was—a profile with a photo that looked like it had been taken years ago. Joel stood with a much younger girl, who you assumed was Sarah, all teeth and curly hair, her arms flung around his neck as he smiled faintly at the camera. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was sweet—simple. A glimpse of him you hadn’t expected.

You scrolled further, the glow of the screen lighting up your face in the dim room. There were more photos: Joel and Sarah on vacation by a lake, Joel in construction gear with a hard hat tucked under one arm, Joel standing next to what looked like an old truck, his hand resting on Sarah’s shoulder as she beamed up at him.

But there was no wife. No wedding photos, no anniversary posts, nothing to suggest she existed. Huh, you thought to yourself, your brow furrowing slightly.

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed beside you, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was just private, or maybe…

You tried to push the thought from your mind, but it lingered, the possibilities swirling in your head far longer than you wanted to admit.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"You ready, kid?" Uncle Ray’s voice boomed from downstairs.

"Yeah, just one sec!" you called back, turning to the mirror one last time. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of the white halter dress you’d chosen, the hem brushing mid-thigh. It was simple, breezy—perfect for the Texas heat—but there was a part of you that wanted to look good. Not over the top, but enough to feel confident. Enough to catch someone’s attention.

As you descended the stairs, Uncle Ray was balancing a platter of meat and a case of beers, muttering something about forgetting the tongs.

"I’ll take these," you offered, grabbing the beers from him before he could protest.

"Thanks, kid," he said with a grateful smile.

The short walk to Joel’s house felt longer than it should have, anticipation bubbling under your skin. You weren’t sure why you were nervous. Maybe it was the thought of finally seeing inside Joel’s house, the place he lived.

Maybe even meeting his wife. If he has one, a voice in your head whispered, though you tried to ignore it.

Uncle Ray knocked on the door, the sound heavy against the wood. Moments later, Joel’s unmistakable voice called, "Comin’!"

When the door opened, your breath caught in your throat.

If it was possible for him to look even better than yesterday, somehow, he managed it. His hair was slightly tousled, damp at the edges, and there was a sheen of sweat glistening on his tanned skin—no doubt from working outside at the barbecue. He wore a faded gray t-shirt that clung just enough to hint at the strength beneath and a pair of jeans.

Your gaze lingered a second too long, and as if sensing it, his eyes flicked to yours, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You swallowed subconsciously, the motion betraying you. He noticed.

"Ray," Joel greeted warmly, clapping your uncle on the back. "Just through there to the kitchen," he said, nodding toward the hallway for the meat Uncle Ray was carrying.

"Got it," your uncle replied, brushing past him and leaving you standing awkwardly in the doorway, the beers still in your hands.

Why did you feel so out of place? Why were you so... flustered?

"Hey, sweetheart," Joel said, his voice dropping into that low, his arm leaning against the doorframe, his familiar drawl sending warmth cascading through you. He motioned to the beers in your arms. "These for me?"

It took you a second to process what he meant. "The beers?" you asked, dumbly, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

"Yeah," he said, amused, his lips curving into a faint grin. "The beers."

"Oh. Yeah," you said quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

"Here, I’ll take ’em off your hands," he offered, stepping closer. As his fingers brushed yours, a spark zipped through you, quick and unbidden. You glanced up, catching his eyes just as they shifted—flickering down for the briefest moment.

That’s when you realized where he was looking. You followed his gaze instinctively, and your heart stuttered. The condensation from the beers had soaked into your dress, dampening the fabric over your chest. You could see the faint outline of your pink lace bra through the thin material.

Joel murmured something under his breath, so quiet you couldn’t make it out. His jaw tightened as his gaze snapped back to your face, his expression carefully neutral.

Your cheeks burned, your entire body flushing a deep crimson. But Joel—ever the gentleman—pretended not to notice. His eyes didn’t stray, not once. Instead, he made steady eye contact, his tone smooth and unaffected as he said, "Hey, come on in. You can meet Sarah. I’ll introduce you two."

He stepped back, holding the door open wider for you to enter. His voice remained calm, his movements composed, but there was a tension in his posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before.

You ducked your head, mumbling a quiet "thanks" as you stepped inside, the air-conditioned coolness of his house brushing against your overheated skin.

Joel’s voice followed you, steady but quieter now. "She’s out back helpin’ with the food. You’ll like her."

You nodded, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that Joel Miller had just seen far more of you than you’d intended—and that the way he handled it, with his quiet restraint and piercing eyes, somehow made it even worse. Or maybe better. You weren’t sure anymore.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ Sarah was incredible—her energy was infectious, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke made you feel like you’d known her for years. She had Joel's kind eyes and smile. Conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating every other sentence as you sat in the shade of the patio, the warm buzz of music and mingling voices filling the air.

"So, you moved from Chicago?" Sarah asked, taking a sip of her beer, her head tilted curiously. You nodded, but before you could answer, she grinned. "What gives? I’d do anything to get out of Texas, but I think my dad would have a heart attack if I tried."

You laughed softly at her playful tone, but inside, your heart clenched, the real reason for your move bubbling to the surface. The betrayal of the two people you had trusted most in the world—your boyfriend and your best friend—still stung like an open wound. For a moment, you thought about answering with one of the rehearsed lies you’d been telling people since it happened. Something casual, vague, easy.

But there was something in Sarah’s eyes—kindness that felt so effortless, so genuine—that made you hesitate. She wasn’t prying; she just seemed... safe. Your lip caught between your teeth as you glanced down, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"Well, uh, my boyfriend cheated on me," you said quietly, the weight of it easing slightly as you said it aloud. Sarah’s eyes widened, but before she could respond, you added, "With my best friend."

Her gasp was immediate, her beer nearly slipping from her hand as she leaned forward. "Oh my God. Are you serious? What fucking assholes!" she said, her voice sharp with indignation.

You managed a small, sad smile. "Yeah. So, uh, here I am, trying to figure out what to do with my life. Honestly, I don’t have a clue."

Sarah’s expression softened, and without hesitation, she reached over to rub your shoulder, her touch warm and comforting. "Hey," she said firmly, "they’re both idiots for doing anything that got you out of their lives. I’ve known you for, like, an hour, and I can already tell how stupid that was."

Her words hit you harder than you expected, a warmth spreading in your chest as the corners of your mouth lifted into a genuine smile. "You’re too sweet," you murmured, your voice soft but sincere.

"I’m serious," she insisted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if daring you to argue. "If they couldn’t see what they had, that’s on them, not you."

For the first time in a while, you felt something shift—just a little—a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you were in the right place to start over. "Thanks, Sarah," you said, meaning every word.

"Anytime," she said, raising her beer with a grin. "And hey, if you need someone to curse them out over the phone, just say the word. I’m really good at it."

You laughed, a sound that felt lighter than it had in months. "I’ll keep that in mind."

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You sat by yourself now, nursing a drink as you watched the scene unfold around you. Sarah had disappeared into the kitchen to help with something, leaving you to take in the warm buzz of conversation and laughter that filled the air.

People were scattered in groups, mingling, sharing stories, and you couldn’t help but smile at how… nice it all felt. Like being part of a community, even if only for a little while.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by you—the absence of a partner in Joel’s life. No photos, no affectionate glances exchanged with a woman across the yard, no lady hanging off his arm.

You’d been looking, admittedly more than you should have. And you’d noticed another thing, too: his left hand. Bare. No wedding ring, no tell-tale tan line suggesting one had been there recently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement, and when you glanced up, Joel was walking toward you, his figure outlined by the afternoon sun. One hand lifted to shield his eyes from the glare as he stopped in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Hey," he said, his voice low but carrying easily over the noise around you.

"Hey," you replied, sitting up a little straighter.

"You havin’ fun?" he asked, his tone casual but his gaze steady, like he genuinely wanted to know.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "Sarah’s the best. She’s been really great."

His lips twitched into a grin, one of those subtle ones that made you feel like you’d earned it. "I figured you two would hit it off."

There was a brief pause, a flicker of something in his eyes as he seemed to consider his next words. Finally, he nodded toward the grill. "Hey, you, uh… wanna help me out with the grill?"

"Oh," you said, caught off guard but smiling nonetheless. "Yeah, sure." You stood quickly, brushing your hands on your dress. "I don’t know how much help I’ll be, though."

"That’s alright," he said, already turning to walk back to the grill, his voice carrying a hint of teasing warmth. "I’ll teach ya."

You followed him, the scent of charcoal and smoked meat growing stronger as you approached. When you reached the grill, Joel handed you a pair of tongs, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he did.

"Alright," he said, stepping beside you, his shoulder close enough to brush yours if either of you moved even a little. "First rule: don’t flip ’em too much. Just let ’em sit there for a bit. You flip too early, you lose all the good stuff."

You nodded, gripping the tongs tightly. "Got it. No premature flipping."

He chuckled at that, low and warm. "Exactly." He reached over, his hand lightly covering yours to guide the tongs. "Here, like this. Just slide it under real careful, and then—" He helped you flip one of the ribs, his movements steady, deliberate, his voice low in your ear.

"See? Easy," he said, stepping back but not too far, his hand lingering on the edge of the grill.

"Sure, when you’re helping," you replied with a small laugh, turning to glance up at him.

"You’ll get the hang of it," he said, his eyes meeting yours for just a beat longer than necessary before he looked back at the grill. "Soon enough, you’ll be the one teachin’ me."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I don’t think I’ll ever reach your level of grill mastery."

"Mastery, huh?" he teased, his grin widening slightly. "You’re just sayin’ that ’cause you’re tryin’ to get on my good side."

"Didn’t realize you had a bad side," you said before you could stop yourself, the words slipping out light and teasing.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized how they sounded.

This was so not you—flirting? With Joel? .You immediately regretted it, your stomach twisting as you replayed the words in your head. You made it weird, you thought, biting the inside of your cheek. He probably thinks you’re a freak.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours, his grin softening into something quieter, almost contemplative. Then, as his gaze lingered, something shifted—something darker, deeper that wasn’t there before. His eyes traveled, not overtly, but enough to make you feel the heat of his attention, before they settled back on yours, steady and unreadable.

"Guess you’ll have to wait and see," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that felt like it carried a secret meant only for you. It was so quiet, so deliberate, that if the laughter and hum of conversation around you had been any louder, you might have missed it entirely.

Your breath caught for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty threading through your thoughts. Was he—? No, he couldn’t be. Could he? The weight of his gaze, the subtle shift in his demeanor, it all felt different now. Like the casual, teasing banter had taken a step into something else—something charged.

You blinked, trying to shake the thought as your heart gave a traitorous thump against your ribs. Joel’s expression shifted back to something lighter, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small, almost amused smile, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

Before you could say anything—ask, deflect, do something—Sarah’s voice called from the patio, pulling both of your gazes away. And just like that, the moment dissolved, leaving you standing there, wondering if you’d imagined the whole thing.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The rest of the evening unfolded like a whirlwind. Sarah had pulled you into the fold of her hometown friends, introducing you to a group of easygoing, lively people who made you feel like you’d known them for years.

They shared stories of growing up in the small town, teasing one another in a way only lifelong friends could, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. It was lovely, and for a while, you let yourself forget everything that had driven you here.

You hadn’t seen Joel. Not since your brief moment at the grill. Uncle Ray had left earlier, muttering something about an emergency at the shop—a customer with car trouble that couldn’t wait until morning. He’d pressed the extra house key into your hand before he left, telling you to stay as long as you liked.

But now it was late, and most of the guests had filtered out. The once-lively backyard was quieter, the string lights casting soft, golden halos over the empty tables and half-finished drinks. You hugged Sarah goodbye at the door, a plate of leftovers in your hand that she’d practically begged you to take.

"Seriously, come over anytime," she said, squeezing you tightly. "It was so nice meeting you."

"You too," you replied, genuinely meaning it as you hugged her back.

As you pulled away, you glanced around one last time, hoping to spot Joel, but he was nowhere to be seen. You shifted the plate in your hand and opened the door, stepping out into the cooler night air. The distant chirp of crickets filled the quiet, and you felt the weight of the day settling into your shoulders.

"Leavin’ without sayin’ goodbye?" a familiar voice drawled, stopping you mid-step.

You turned sharply, startled, to see Joel leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed and his gaze fixed on you. His shirt sleeves were rolled up slightly, and his hair was mussed like he’d run a hand through it more than once. The soft glow of the porch light caught the sharp line of his jaw as he tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"What, I work you too hard?" he teased, his voice low and laced with that easy humor that made your stomach flutter.

You let out a surprised laugh, adjusting the plate in your hand. "I didn’t know where you went," you said, feeling suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his gaze.

"Had to clean up a bit," he replied, straightening from the doorframe. "Didn’t think you’d sneak out on me, though."

"I wasn’t sneaking," you countered, smiling despite yourself.

Joel’s smirk widened slightly, his eyes catching yours in a way that made your pulse skip. "Good," he said simply, stepping closer until he was just a little too near, the space between you shrinking in a way that felt intentional. He glanced at the plate in your hand. "Sarah guilt you into takin’ that?"

"Of course," you said with a small laugh. "I didn’t stand a chance."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, before his gaze flicked back to yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, the quiet night wrapping around you like a cocoon. His expression softened, the teasing edge fading just slightly as he said, "Glad you came, though."

The way he said it—low, steady, and deliberate—made something in your chest tighten. You nodded, your voice quieter now. "Me too."

You turned toward the driveway, ready to head home, when Joel cleared his throat behind you. "I’ll, uh, walk you home," he said, his voice calm but steady enough to make you stop in your tracks.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Joel, it’s like three steps," you pointed out, gesturing toward your house practically next door.

"I know," he replied, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "But here in Texas, us gentlemen protect our ladies."

Our ladies. The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been, and you felt a sudden warmth rush to your cheeks. You knew he didn’t mean it like that—not like you were his—but still the idea made your stomach flip all the same.

"Okay," you murmured, the word barely audible as you started walking, Joel falling into step beside you.

You both walked slowly, the kind of unhurried pace that almost felt like stalling. Joel’s hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, his gaze flicking around the quiet neighborhood before landing back on you.

"So," he said, his voice easy but laced with curiosity, "how long you here for?"

You sighed softly, your fingers brushing the plate of leftovers Sarah had given you as you considered your answer. "I don’t know," you admitted, glancing at him briefly. "I’m here until I figure my shit out, pretty much."

Joel nodded, his expression thoughtful. The light from your porch illuminated the edges of his profile as he turned toward your house, his next words slipping out low and steady. "Well," he said, "let’s hope that takes a while, then."

Your breath hitched, his words landing like a soft knock against your chest. He said it so easily, so casually, but something about the way his voice dipped made it impossible to ignore. You felt the blush creeping up your neck, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Joel stopped just short of following you up, rocking back slightly on his heels. He looked at you then, really looked at you, and the warmth in his gaze sent your heart into a full sprint.

"Good night," he said, his voice softer now, before turning on his heels. He walked away slowly, his hands still in his pockets, and you couldn’t help but watch him until he disappeared into the shadows of his own porch.

You stood there for a moment, breathless and still, your mind replaying his words on a loop. The weight of them lingered, warm and undeniable, leaving you leaning against your door long after the night had fully settled around you.

Tag List:

@pedritospunk @ickearmn

[haunted-headset]

somethin' stupid ❤︎₊ ⊹

summary: Sirius says 'i love you' for the first time

a/n: hi! as you might know, i'm really new at writing for the Marauders and this would be my first time writing for Sirius, so please feel free to let me know what i could do better next time or what i did well :)

tags: @eyesof-thehurricane @daemontargaryennn @o-kye @unbeleevable @mochamuff1n @prettysinners (this is me just guessing who would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be removed/added from the taglist!!)

word count: 726

warnings: slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, reader and Sirius cry a little

You were curled up on the small couch in your pajamas, your nose in the new book you'd gotten recently. You weren't sure how long you'd been on the sofa until Sirius arrived.

"Babyyy," Sirius whined, "you've been reading forever. Can we please do something?"

"I haven't been reading for that long," you chuckled, sliding your bookmark between the page you were on and looking up at him, his arms draped over the back of the sofa.

"You've been reading for at least an hour," Sirius teased. "You haven't even moved. It's a bit scary, darling."

"What do you even want to do, Siri?" you asked, stretching your legs with a groan.

"I don't know," he said, "cuddle? Watch a movie? Go for a walk? Cuddle?"

"You said that twice," you giggled.

"I know," he matched your smile. "I really want to cuddle." His eyes lit up. "I have an incredible idea."

"Yes?" you chuckled.

"I could lay on your lap," he said, already climbing onto the couch," and you can sit there and look pretty and read." He nuzzled his head into your belly and wrapped his arms around you. "You smell good," he said.

"I'm wearing your jumper, silly," you laughed.

"Oh," he said. "I smell good."

"Yes, you do," you nodded, opening your book up again and absentmindedly playing with his hair. He let out a content sigh and closed his eyes, moving one hand to rub your thigh.

"Please never stop getting acrylics," he murmured, wriggling his head under the jumper to lay his head on your skin.

"I might have to, Siri," you said. "They're not healthy for your nails, I've heard."

"Isn't there a healthy one now?" he asked, lifting his head up. "A gel one?"

"Bio gel," you nodded, "but my friend told me they're expensive."

"I'll pay for it, babe, don't worry about that," he said, nuzzling his head under your his jumper again.

"You spoil me too much," you laughed.

"Why wouldn't I?" he said, kissing your soft tummy. "I have to pamper my darling." He hummed with content when your nails lightly scratched his scalp.

"I love you," he murmured.

You froze, your heart skipping multiple beats and your eyes widening. The words on the pages became blurry, jumbled-up bits of nonsense as you lost your breath.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you, his eyes flickering with traces of fear.

"Did I do something wrong?" he whispered, so soft you could barely hear him. "Did I mess up?" he asked when you didn't respond.

You felt your heart break into shards at his shaky words. You quickly set your book down on the coffee table and threw your arms around him with a tearful giggle.

"You didn't mess up, Sirius," you whispered, sniffling as his shaky arms wrapped around you tightly. "You didn't mess up at all."

"Do you love me?" he whispered, lifting your head out of his chest and cupping your face. "You don't have to say it back-"

"How is that even a question?" you laughed. "Of course I love you, Siri, of course I do."

You watched his expression go from worried to ecstatic as he hugged you again, causing you to fall and hit the pillows.

"Holy shit, you love me!" Sirius laughed. "I love you! We love each other!"

"We do!" you laughed, wiping away your tears.

"Why are you crying?" he said, kissing your wet cheeks. "Baby, we're in love! I love you! You love me! We love each other! Isn't that great?"

"You're crying too, dummy!" you teased, reaching up to wipe the streaks away.

"At least I have a good reason!" he laughed. "You gave me a fright, darling!" He kissed your lips a few times. "And before you apologize, you have nothing to say sorry for, so don't even try."

"But I scared you-" you started.

"Nope, you're not allowed to apologize," he interrupted, kissing your forehead. "What you are allowed to do is tell me what food you want me to order for us."

"We're getting takeout?" you questioned.

"You think I'm going to get up and cook for us after we just confessed our love?" he said dramatically. "Absolutely not. We're going to order takeout so I can cuddle you for the rest of the night."

You weren't complaining.

[gilbertscurls]

glimpse of us ➵ matt sturniolo

summary: caught between hesitation and hope, you listen as matt paints a vivid picture of the love you could share—if only you were ready to take the leap.

He could see the war going on inside you, your conflicted emotions written all over your face. He knew you liked him, maybe even loved him, but that you were too scared to take that final step, to make your relationship official.

He hated seeing you so unsure, and he wished he could just reach inside you and pull out all your doubts and insecurities, to make you see how perfect you could be together.

“Y'know,” he said, his voice easy and relaxed, “if we were dating, I'd probably cook you breakfast every morning. Pancakes, eggs, whatever you wanted. And I'd make sure your coffee was always how you liked it, all frothy and warm.”

He chuckled and shrugged, like he was just casually bringing up a random topic. “And I'd probably leave dumb little notes all over the place for you to find, just… reminding you how much I care about you.”

“I'd also get you flowers. Not just on special occasions, but just… out of the blue, to tell you I was thinking about you. I'd probably buy you teddy bears too, or cute little stuffed animals that I'd leave on the bed so you can hug them when I'm not around.”

He spoke softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your hip bone. “And I'd definitely text you dumb memes and funny videos that I know would make you laugh. But only after I'd call you in the morning to wish you a good day.”

“And I'd take you on dates, like real dates. Not just to your favorite coffee shop, but to nice restaurants and… oh, I'd take you to the theater. I know how much you love musicals, and I'd even sit through the entire thing without complaining, even if I'm bored out of my mind.”

He chuckled and shook his head, like he was imagining the scenario. “And I'd hold your hand the whole time, and buy you expensive popcorn, and probably make out with you during the boring parts.”

“And I'd make sure you were taken care of,” he said, his voice growing serious. “I'd make sure you had everything you needed, and everything you wanted. And if you ever had a bad day, or something was bothering you, I'd listen. I'd hold you, and I'd tell you it was alright, because that's what boyfriends are supposed to do.”

He looked away for a moment, as if lost in thought, before turning back to you. “But I suppose that's all irrelevant because, well... we're not dating.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike

[mochiwonz]

― YOU'RE JUST A STRANGER s.jaeyun

PAIRING. fem!reader x nonidol bf!jake CONTENT. angst , jake is kind-of a jerk (╥﹏╥) , breakup , cursing WORD COUNT. 1.2k NOTE. omg i've wanted to write an angsty fic for awhile so this is me finally doing it :3 the plot is kinda ass so i apologize T v T pls remember this is all just fiction !! hope you enjoy ♡

You were convinced that Jake was the best boyfriend anyone could ever have. He was insanely good-looking, dressed well, loved his family and friends, and had a loving personality. Jake always made time for you and never went a day without checking up on you. He even told you that he would marry you one day and that you guys would have three kids and one dog. Frankly, he was really just perfect.

Well, until he wasn't.

When you first met Jake, you guys were sophomores in highschool. You guys had met in your science class and ended up becoming close friends. After growing closer to him, you realized you had some pretty strong feelings for him. And surely enough, he felt the same way about you, too.

So in Junior year, he confessed to you and of course you said yes. How could you not? Throughout the next year, you felt as if life couldn't be any better. Your first love also loved you, and he was also possibly the most charming man on earth!

However, things quickly changed.

Fast forward a year and a half later, you guys graduated and quickly moved in together. But Jake was no longer the same. He was no longer the sweet boy that showed his love and affection for you. Instead, he was closed off. He never started conversations with you, you always had to be the one to start it. Jake was just becoming more distant.

Why? Why was your own boyfriend distancing himself from you? Did you do something wrong?

It was now 7:40 pm and Jake had still not answered your texts. Jake always answered, or well- he used to always answer.

baby i'm omw to the grocery store and i'll make us some dinner tonight <3

jake i just saw a dog that looks so much like layla lol

jake?? i haven't heard from you since you left this morning, r u okay?

i'm not trying to bother u jake but i'm rly worried pls atleast txt me back :(

You didn't know what to think. Was he ignoring you on purpose? Did you accidentally make a mistake? Was he falling out of love with you? Was he cheating on you?

No way, he couldn't. Yes he had been distant, but no, Jake would never. You wish he could just give you an explanation, at least.

You were just about to call him until you heard footsteps entering the apartment.

Jake's finally home.

You walk over to Jake and worryingly bombard him with questions while hugging him.

"baby...how're you? where were you today? did your phone die-"

He cuts you off.

"quit being so fucking nosey y/n." he says, sounding pissed off.

What? Did you just hear that right? And why did he sound and look so mad?

"jake...what? I was just worried..." you tell him, your voice laced with a bit of shock.

"i'm a grown ass man, i can take care of myself." he responds, not looking at you while pushing you away from his chest.

He quickly walks over to the fridge and grabs himself a cup of coffee- coffee that you made for him, hoping maybe he'd thank you or acknowledge you.

Not to your surprise, he just grabs it and walks to the sofa. Not one glance, not one "thank you". Nothing.

"hey jake, did i do something wrong? if so i'm sorr-"

And again, he cuts you off.

"can you just shut up please, you didn't do anything wrong." he tells you, and you're not convinced. How could you be?

"okay well then why have you been such an ass towards me? please just give me a fucking explanation" you say while sitting beside him on the sofa.

You notice how he moves away from you, and you can't help but feel a little frustrated.

"maybe it's because i'm sick of you always bothering me y/n."

Bothering him? You've only ever tried to care for him. Fuck, you can feel your eyes getting watery.

The room feels cold, even though the heater is on. There is no longer that warmth- the comforting warmth that you oh so loved. Things had really changed, and you really fucking hated it.

"bothering you? jake i'm your girlfriend, all i'm trying to do is love and care for you. i-"

"okay then just stop. stop loving and caring for me." he says in a louder tone of voice.

Now you're really frustrated. What the fuck is happening with Jake?

"what the fuck is wrong with you? jake, what the fuck?"

"nothing is fucking wrong with me y/n. maybe i'm just tired of your ass. maybe i'm just not in love with you anymore."

Did he just- oh. So you were right. He really doesn't love you anymore.

"jake you could've just told me you didn't love me anymore. you could've just told me so i didn't have to be put through this shit, and so that you could've just left." you tell him, your eyes filled with tears.

"i couldn't tell you because i know you would fucking cry like a crybaby."

You felt your heart break into two. The man you loved, your once sweet boyfriend, was now treating you like you were nothing to him.

And in Jake's eyes, you really were nothing to him anymore.

"jake what the fuck i-" you try to speak but you're choked up. And fuck, you feel the first tear fall and next thing you know- you're sobbing.

"see, look- you're crying. i knew you'd fucking cry. and shit, you're an ugly crier too. i can't keep up with your shit anymore y/n, i'm tired. you always treat me like i'm a baby, making me food and shit. just stop. i'm leaving and this is over. we're over. bye y/n" he says while getting up from the couch.

You feel numb. Your first love just stabbed you, right in the heart.

Before you could say anything back, he'd already grabbed his bag and jacket and was on his way to the front door. And this time, you knew he wasn't going to come back.

You quickly get up and run to the front door, stopping him in his tracks.

"jake can you atleast look at me please-" you tell him and he listens and looks at you. However, his stare is emotionless.

"please jake can i hug you one last time?...please" you ask, voice shaky from your sobbing.

"sure whatever" he responds in an annoyed tone of voice.

You slowly bring yourself closer to him and rest your head in his chest and wrap your arms around him. But you didn't feel that same warmth. You didn't feel any sort of love or comfort that you hoped you would.

He just stood there. He didn't wrap his arms around your waist and kiss the top of your head like he used to. Of course he wouldn't. You just missed the old jake.

"okay y/n that's enough. i'll get going" he tells you while unwrapping your arms.

You can't find any words to say to him, you really can't. You just stand there, looking and feeling like a complete mess.

"bye" jake says as he walks out the door.

You don't say "bye" back to him, because you can't.

You're just standing there, frozen, numb. You just watch him as he leaves. You watch him leave the apartment as your boyfriend, for the last time ever.

And then, the door closes. He wasn't your boyfriend anymore and you weren't his girlfriend anymore. And no you wouldn't be calling him your ex boyfriend or your first love.

If anything, you would call him a complete and total stranger.

part 2 is here and my other works are here ! pls reblog if you enjoyed :))

[bandsofmarv]

Something more

You and Bucky have been best friends for years, even sharing an apartment together. When you go on a date with someone new will bucky’s unexpected jealousy lead to confessions.

Warning - none just fluff and angst

The soft glow of the Brooklyn sunset filtered through the curtains of your small apartment as you finished getting ready. The excitement bubbling in your chest was impossible to ignore—you hadn’t been on a real date in ages.

“Do I look okay?” you called out, spinning in front of your best friend, Bucky Barnes, who was sitting on your couch, flipping through a magazine he had no real interest in.

Bucky’s steel-blue eyes lifted, and for a moment, he said nothing. His gaze trailed from your shoes to your carefully styled hair, lingering just long enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You look fine,” he muttered, turning back to the magazine.

“Just fine?” You frowned, smoothing your dress. “Gee, thanks for the glowing review.”

“You’re fishing for compliments now?” he shot back with a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your purse. “Don’t wait up.”

“Who’s this guy again?” Bucky asked casually, though his tone carried an edge you couldn’t miss.

“His name’s Kyle. We met at the coffee shop,” you explained. “He’s really nice. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Bucky grunted in response, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. But you didn’t press it. He’d been acting weird since you told him about the date, but you chalked it up to his usual overprotectiveness.

————————————————————————

The date was fine. Kyle was sweet, charming even, but you couldn’t help the way your mind kept drifting—to Bucky. His lopsided grin when he teased you, the way he always remembered your coffee order, the rare moments when he let his guard down and let you see the vulnerable man beneath the super-soldier exterior.

By the time Kyle walked you to your door, you knew your heart wasn’t in it. You thanked him politely, dodging a goodnight kiss with a friendly hug, and stepped inside.

Bucky was still there.

He was sitting in the same spot on the couch, but his magazine was abandoned, and his metal hand was tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. His head snapped up when you entered, and he stood quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Back already?”

“Yeah,” you said, slipping off your heels. “It was… nice.”

“Nice, huh?” He scoffed, his jaw clenching again. “That why you’re home so early?”

You frowned, dropping your purse on the counter. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He stepped closer, his voice rising slightly. “You go out with some guy you barely know, and I’m supposed to just sit here and be okay with it?”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Why wouldn’t you be okay with it? You’re my best friend, Bucky. You’re supposed to be supportive.”

“Best friend,” he repeated bitterly, running a hand through his hair. “Is that all I am to you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

He sighed, the frustration and jealousy etched on his face melting into something softer, more vulnerable. “I’m talking about the fact that seeing you with someone else makes me feel like I’m gonna lose my damn mind. That I can’t stand the thought of you looking at him the way I wish you’d look at me.”

“Bucky…”

“I know I should’ve said something sooner,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “But I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have. Scared you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Your chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you deserve someone good,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “And I wasn’t sure I’d ever be good enough for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. “Bucky, you idiot. You’ve always been good enough.”

His breath hitched, his hands hovering hesitantly at your waist as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Does that mean—?��

“Yes,” you said, cutting him off with a smile. “It means yes.”

Relief and something deeper flooded his expression as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I waited so long.”

“Just don’t make me wait any longer,” you whispered, and before you could second-guess yourself, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, years of unspoken feelings pouring into the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he grinned—the boyish, lopsided grin you’d always loved.

“Guess I owe Kyle a thank-you,” he joked, and you laughed, swatting his arm. “Shut up and kiss me again, Barnes.”

And he did, making up for all the lost time.

[littlelamy]

I just saw ‘’a walk to remember’’ and it came a lil request idea (but with a happy ending and fluff, ain’t nobody ready for heartbreak after obx4). Maybe Kook!Reader suffers with some sickness that’s manageable. She goes on a few dates with Rafe and it’s that sweet wholesome pinning. Though for her most recent doctor appointment where she went for a scan, she learns that she doesn’t have much time to live (false alarm unknown to her: doctors fucked up with the scan, she is completely fine) and when Rafe makes a heartfelt confession wanting to make things serious, she has to tell him there is no point and IT’S ALL ANGSTY and Rafe is bawling mess

a/n: thank you for requesting! it’s a bit long 🙃, hope you like it 💗!!

the summer air clung to the coast like a warm blanket, carrying the scent of salt and honeysuckle as you walked into the country club. it was one of those evenings where the world seemed too quiet, like it was holding its breath. you hadn’t planned to stay long. a drink, a few polite hellos, and you’d leave.

but then he walked in.

rafe cameron.

you’d seen him before, of course. kildare wasn’t that big, and rafe’s reputation preceded him—wild, confident, a little dangerous. he was the guy everyone talked about, the one your parents didn’t want you anywhere near.

but when his eyes found yours that night, something changed.

he smiled. not his usual cocky, smug grin, but something softer. something meant just for you.

and when he crossed the room, leaned on the bar beside you, and said, “what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”—you didn’t brush him off like you might’ve done with someone else.

instead, you smiled back.

the first few dates were simple, easy. a mix of late-night drives, quiet beach picnics, and stargazing. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, but somehow, with rafe, even the most ordinary moments felt different.

he wasn’t what you’d expected.

sure, he had that edge, that playful arrogance that made him irresistible. but he was also thoughtful. he remembered how you took your coffee after just one date, texted you goodnight even when he was out with his friends, and noticed the little things—like the way you twisted your ring when you were nervous.

and you found yourself looking forward to every moment you spent with him.

but underneath the easy laughter and quiet moments, there was a weight pressing on your chest. something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to.

your sickness wasn’t new. you’d lived with it for years, managing it like an unwelcome guest. it wasn’t life-threatening, or so you thought—it was just… a part of you.

but two weeks ago, everything had shifted.

you’d gone in for a routine scan, expecting the usual reassurances. instead, your doctor’s expression had been grim, his words careful and clinical as he explained the results.

the prognosis wasn’t good.

“limited time.” that’s what he’d said, as if those two words could sum up everything you were feeling.

you’d walked out of that office in a daze, the world around you moving too fast and too slow all at once.

you hadn’t told anyone. not yet. how could you?

how were you supposed to look someone in the eye and tell them your days were numbered?

when you saw rafe again, the weight in your chest felt heavier.

he greeted you with that same, easy smile, pulling you into a hug that felt like coming home.

“missed you,” he murmured against your hair.

“missed you too,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat.

the two of you spent the evening on the porch at tannyhill, a bottle of wine between you. the night was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of cicadas in the distance.

rafe was unusually still, his fingers tracing slow circles on your knee.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “why wouldn’t i be?”

he didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. instead, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

“can i tell you something?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

you turned to him, your chest tightening. “of course.”

he hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i know we haven’t been doing this for long,” he started, his gaze fixed on your joined hands. “but i really like you. like, really like you.”

your heart clenched painfully.

“i don’t want this to be just casual,” he continued, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his expression. “i want to be with you. for real.”

tears blurred your vision, and you looked away, your chest aching with the weight of what you had to say.

“rafe…”

“what?” he asked, leaning closer. “what’s wrong?”

you shook your head, pulling your hand from his as you stood.

“we can’t,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

his brow furrowed, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. “what do you mean, ‘we can’t’? why not?”

“because…” you wrapped your arms around yourself, as if that would somehow keep you from falling apart. “because of me.”

“what does that mean?” he pressed, standing now too.

you took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “i don’t have much time,” you finally managed, your voice breaking.

the silence that followed was deafening.

“what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

you couldn’t look at him. “the doctors… they said…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “it doesn’t matter.”

“doesn’t matter?” he repeated, his voice rising. “how can you say that? of course, it matters!”

“it doesn’t change anything,” you said, turning away from him.

“like hell it doesn’t,” he snapped, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “we’ll get another opinion. hell, i’ll fly you anywhere—just tell me what we need to do.”

“there’s nothing you can do,” you said, your voice trembling.

“that’s not true,” he argued, his tone desperate now. “we’ll fix this.”

you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “you don’t get it, rafe. you can’t fix this. no one can.”

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to process your words. then, without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it was almost hard to breathe.

“i’m not giving up on you,” he whispered fiercely.

and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself believe him.

it was two days later when your phone rang.

you almost didn’t answer it, too drained to face whatever news was on the other end. but something told you to pick up.

“ms. y/l/n?” the voice on the other end said. “this is dr. patel. we’ve reviewed your scan results, and there’s been a mistake.”

your heart stopped. “a mistake?”

“yes,” the doctor confirmed. “the results were mixed up with another patient’s. your condition hasn’t progressed. you’re completely fine.”

fine.

the word echoed in your mind, over and over, as relief and disbelief and anger surged through you all at once.

“are you sure?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“yes,” the doctor assured you. “we deeply regret the error and the distress it’s caused.”

you hung up without another word, the phone slipping from your hand as you stared blankly ahead.

you were fine.

but rafe didn’t know that.

telling him wasn’t easy.

when you showed up at tannyhill, he was waiting for you on the porch, his face drawn with exhaustion.

“hey,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms the moment you stepped through the door.

“hey,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

he held you for a long moment, neither of you saying anything. then he pulled back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studied your face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice tentative.

you nodded, your throat tightening. “there’s something i need to tell you.”

his brow furrowed. “what is it?”

you took a deep breath, your fingers twisting the hem of your shirt.

“the scan…” you hesitated, your heart pounding. “it was wrong.”

his eyes widened. “what?”

“the results were mixed up,” you explained, tears streaming down your cheeks. “i’m fine, rafe. i’m fine.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. then, without warning, he let out a shaky laugh, pulling you into his arms again.

“thank god,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

you clung to him, the relief in his embrace overwhelming.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“don’t,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. “don’t apologize, baby.”

and when he kissed you, it felt like the first breath after drowning—a promise that everything would be okay.

because it would.

with rafe by your side, you knew it would.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[sunnysidevans]

Somewhere Between California and Texas - J.Seresin.

Summary: When your best friend and her fiance have co-bachelor parties and you thought you were going to be the only single one but one green eyed aviator saves the day - his specialty.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

a/n: this was a request I received but I received two requests that were almost identical so in summary the request was in summary this. I hope whoever they are that requested this likes it because actually I think rom-com type fics are my thing because I LOVED writing this!

The airport was jammed packed for 7am on a Tuesday morning.

You stood against the windows, watching the planes landing and taking off.

You thought booking an early flight would get you out of the San Diego International Airport a lot quicker than something later in the day.

Sighing, you notice a seat opens at the end of the row, quick to rush towards it just for someone to beat you to it and sit down. You gasp, looking at the man who grins.

“Seriously?” you scuff, looking him up and down watching the smirk grow on his lips, twirling the toothpick between his teeth.

“Mine now sweetheart” he winks.

He watches the way you sulk back over to the window and sit down. Within a few minutes the overhead speaker picked up with a screech.

“Now boarding for flight 7552 to Austin now boarding, if you need assistance or are in a wheelchair this is for you, we also invite any military personnel to make their way to the gate”

You watch as the man stands up from his seat and makes his way to the gate. You should’ve known he was military.

Finally shoving your bag in the overhead bin, you sit down in your seat with a heavy sigh, “howdy” you look over at the voice, narrowing your eyes.

There he sat, across the aisle with a smirk.

“Hello” you reply sarcastically and pull the headphones back over your ears and sit back. You can feel his eyes watching you as you adjust in the seat. This was gonna be a long flight.

“Welcome to Austin!” the flight attendant grinned as you exited the plane, quick to grab your suitcase and make your way outside.

As you are coming down the escalator you are greeted with your best friend's grin and a huge sign on a pink poster board “(Y/N)”.

You laugh, rushing to her with a squeal, hugging her tightly. “Hi!” She laughs, linking your arms together and walking towards the door.

Your best friends, Jean and Johnny, were getting married in a few weeks and it was bachelorette weekend.

“Johnny is so excited you are here” she smiles as you chuckle, squeezing her hand. “I doubt that” you grin, packing your suitcase in the back of her car.

As you close the trunk your eyes connect with Military man once again who takes two fingers and salutes towards you with a wink.

Rolling your eyes, you climb into the passenger seat of Jean’s car. “I need food and some coffee” you groan and fall back into the seat. “How was the flight?” she questions as you shrug, “a normal one, though I got sat by this guy who practically pushed me out of the way for a seat” she scoffs, “that dick!”. You laugh, nodding along with her.

“Low and behold he is on the flight in the aisle across from me” she laughs as you shake your head. “I couldn’t believe the entitlement!” she nods in agreement.

Making your way into your best friend's home, you can hear Johnny yell from upstairs. “Jeanie?!” you grin as she nods, you raise the pitch of your voice, yelling back to him, “yes sweetie?!”.

He laughs as he makes his way down the steps, a grin on his face. “Hi (y/n)!” he rushes down the steps to come and give you a hug.

Johnny was a military man himself, stationed here now for the last six years but previously in San Diego where the three of you met.

“How’re you doin Johnny?” you smile, crouching to the floor to love on the dogs who ran up to you excitedly. “Great!” he grins, looking at you and then back at his fiance who smiles. “So what's the game plan?” you ask, sipping on your coffee as you look between the two of them. “I have a couple friends coming in still” Johnny notes, sipping his own cup. You nod, smiling as you turn to Jean.

“I still have Natalie and Anna coming but other than that just you guys” you nod eagerly with a smile growing. “I haven’t seen either of them in so long” they both nod, “they are also both bringing their spouses…” Johnny trails off. “Oh” you look down at the steaming cup of coffee and nod. “No problem!” you add, plastering the smile on your face.

Attending weddings alone has become a common thing for you. A combo bachelor party was gonna be no different.

“(y/n)..” Jean speaks first after the first few minutes of silence. “It's fine jeanie!” you shake your head, sipping on the last of the coffee and standing.

“I think i am gonna catch a nap” you mumble, walking towards the kitchen as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it” Johnny stands and makes his way to the door, as it opens you can hear the cheers of him and you guess one of his friends.

“Jeanie! Jake’s here!” Johnny states from the breezeway. You stop short coming from the kitchen as the man takes his hat off and a grin grows on his face.

“Howdy” he nodded towards you, your eyes were wide.

Jean speaks first,“This is (y/n), my best friend!” she grins as you nod slowly.

Military man was standing in your best friend's house, which now has a name, Jake. “oh we’ve met” he notes with a growing smile, you nod with a sigh. “Hello” you mumble walking past him and up the stairs. Jake grins from his place as he watches you go up the steps.

The table was full on both sides. Night had fallen and everyone for both parties arrived. The restaurant was loud as you sat secluded in a corner of the table, beside Jake, who you have now learned was also the only single person for this weekend.

“So everyone” Johnny stands, beer in hand and a grin on his face. “I am so excited to have you all here!” he continues, “the weekend plans are of course tomorrow we head to a longhorns game, it's only honorary” he grins at the cheers from his friends.

“And we will see how we feel the next few days, tomorrow is a big day for the Longhorns!” He holds his beer out as everyone else follows. You sip the water and slouch in your chair. “So, you’re the only single friend of jeans huh?” Jake questions from beside you as you sigh, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, they just call me ‘the single one’ in the friend group” he nods with a hum, “don’t worry I have the same” he chuckles. “Maybe i will find myself a nice cowboy or something” you grumble with a chuckle as he grins, “why look? I found you one” he smirks, sipping his beer as he turns to his left, continuing the conversation with Scott, another groomsman.

Jean grins from her end of the table, beside Johnny with a thumbs up. You shake your head with a sigh, smiling at the waitress who was beside you with your plate of food. You can’t help but feel Jake’s green eyes lingering as you turn to your food.

+

A sea of orange filled the stands of Texas Memorial Stadium. You grin as you follow behind the group as everyone who passed by had a kind smile. Jake followed beside you in his own orange jersey, brown cowboy hat perched on his head.

“Alright everyone, this is our box so we can order food and drinks everything we want here” Jean grins around the box at the group of her friends, you smile nodding and making your way to sit down on one of the couches. “So, how’re ya doin?” Jean sits beside you within a few minutes, smiling. “I’m fine” you look over at your best friend with raised brows trying to read the look on her face.

“Are you sure?” she questions, thanking Johnny as he sets a glass of wine in her hands. “Yes, I am sure” you look at her as she nods, sitting back against the cushions.

“I know this is awkward for you being ya know, the only single one” she mumbles while sipping her wine. You shrug, sitting back and watching out the windows at the team warming up.

“I’m fine Jean” you snap and stand from the couch and decide to go and look around the stadium.

You can hear the cheers of the crowds as the first whistle is heard and the game begins. 

“You know it's almost disrespectful to only be wearing a plain orange shirt” you turn at the sound of the voice, smiling at Jake. He has a smirk on his lips, not condescending but almost, teasing.

“I didn’t come prepared” you smile, looking back through the merchandise table. “Pick one” he grins, watching as you look through the table of shirts and sweatshirts.

“What?” you look at him with a raised brow, shirt in hand. “Is that your pick?” he asks as you hold the orange shirt in your hand, a small longhorn logo on the front, the state of Texas on the back.

“I like this one yes” you trail off as he takes it from your hand and makes his way to the woman who grinned behind the register. “Is that all for you dear?” her southern drawl was heavy as he nodded, smiling.

“Jake!” rushing over to him you try slapping the card out of his hand as he shakes his head, handing it to the woman. “Nope, i will be purchasing your first piece of texas longhorn merchandise” he smirks, taking his card back and shoving it in his pocket.

“Would you like me to cut the tag off honey?” the older woman asks, looking at you. Nodding, you take the shirt from her once the tags are off. “Have a nice day you two” she waves as you both thank her, walking back towards the skyboxes.

“You gonna put it on?” Jake stops by the restrooms as you blush, “I will meet you upstairs”.

The room cheers as Jake, the resident Texan makes his way back in the skybox.  Jean stands quickly rushing to him, ”did you see (y/n)?”.

Jake nods, reaching out to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Why, what's wrong?” he asks as she sighs, pushing her hair out of her face, a sign of stress for Jean.

“I sat with her, I can tell she’s a bit down in the dumps about being the only person single, other than you” Jake can’t help his eye roll but she continues, “I should know better than to press but she snapped at me and walked out” she sighs.

“She’s fine Jean” he squeezes her shoulder reassuringly as you make your way back in, t-shirt on. “There you are!” she rushes over to you, hugging you tightly. You stumble slightly, catching her and hugging her back with furrowed brows.

“I’m okay Jeanie” you mumble with a chuckle as she shakes her head. “I got worried, this is a big place, and i want you here, with me” she takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Jeanie, it’s okay, I'm fine, I just needed to step away” she nods, noticing the smile on your lips, different than before but there.

She makes her way beside Johnny as you stand beside Jake, both sharing knowing smiles.

“So, wait what does this mean now?” you ask, standing by the window as both teams are standing on the field. “The games in overtime” Jake mumbles beside you, hands on his hips as you look over at him.

“Right, but why are they just standing there?” he chuckles, looking over at you then back out the window. “They are doing the coin toss, like at the beginning of the game” he watches the realization on your face as you nod. Jean sits behind the two of you, watching the conversation between you.

“Seems to be getting along” Anna mumbles beside her, her own husband moving to stand beside Jake. “Thank god, the beginning seemed pretty tense” Jean mumbles as she watches you two.

Slipping through the door to go out into the open seats, standing on the balcony, Jake follows behind you.

The cheers were so loud, you couldn’t believe it as you looked around you. “This is Texas” Jake grins,looking over at you,sharing the same smile, this time Jake can’t help but notice that it reaches your eyes.

The end of the game was even better than the whole experience, walking beside the group you notice all the people exiting the stadium are cheering with grins on their faces. Many smile at you as they pass. Jake is beside you then, nudging you gently. “So, did you enjoy your first Longhorns game?” he asks as you chuckle, nodding.

“I actually did, I may not have known much of what was going on but I did my best” he grins, watching as the group walks ahead of you two. “I love how” you trail off, trying to think of the right words, “it seems so homey” he nods hands in his pockets. “Are you staying with the love birds?” Jake questions as everyone gets into the packed car, thankfully you all Ubered to the stadium.

You nod, sitting in the back of the ford expedition. The car ride is then silent, Jake notices the way you shivered slightly, he pulls the orange jacket off his shoulders, putting it over yours.

Looking up at him, you smile and pull your arms through it, leaning against him as you two were the only ones sober in the vehicle. 

The green numbers on the nightstand are almost haunting as they continue to softly tick. You had been home now for hours but still couldn’t sleep. The soft buzz of your phone pulls you from your fifth time counting the ceiling tiles.

Unknown: please don’t question how I got your number and please don’t find this creepy at all but I can’t sleep and wondered if you were awake?

you smile but then the three bubbles show up again.

It's Jake, should’ve clarified

You giggle.

You: thank god for the clarification I was terrified someone was haunting me down

Biting your lip before responding again,

do you know good places to eat at this hour?

You watch the bubbles pop up and back down before a message comes through,

Be ready in 15

Standing on the front porch of your best friend's home, you watch the cars pass down the street. You did not expect this to be the way this trip was going, you did not expect the man who stole your seat in the airport to be pulling up in his Ram truck and honking to pull you out of your daydream.

Skipping down the steps you rush to the passenger side door, which the driver side door opens before your hand reaches the handle.

“Negative ma’am” he grins, opening the door for you, the running boards coming down for you to step in. “We never let a lady open their own doors” Jake adds as you smile, looking him up and down in his sweatpants and long sleeve.

“Have you ever been to Texas before?” Jake asks in the dead of night, the streets are quiet but also still buzzing from the Longhorns win. “Only a few times, I came down when Jean and Johnny first moved here” you look over at him as he nods eyes back forward on the road.

“I feel like you haven’t even seen the city!” he adds enthusiastically. 

The city was still bright as you and Jake drove through the streets eventually making it down back roads. “Jake!” you gasp, pointing to the horses in the fields, it was now almost 5 am, the sun rising slowly.

He pulls to the side of the road to let you out excitedly, you rush to the fence with your hand out to let the brown horse sniff it.

Jake watches from behind you, a smile on his face. “That’s Finn” He adds, arms crossed over his chest as you turn to him, “what?” you ask as he nods.

“Finnegan, he’s my horse actually” Jake smiles as the horse huffs out against your hand and lets you continue to pet him. He nuzzles his snout into your palm as you smile wider.

“What do you mean he’s your horse?” you question over your shoulder as Jake moves beside you. “This is my family's land, our ranch is just around the corner” he grins as you smile, watching the way Finn reacts to Jake, nibbling on his jacket.

“Hey now” Jake laughs, gently moving his snout away from his sleeve. “Can we go horseback riding?” you question after a few minutes of silence, “wanna?” he asks as you nod eagerly like a little kid on christmas. Jake notices the way your eyes light up at the idea. “Alright, c’mon” he grins, leading you to the truck to get back in.

The barn was quiet in the early hours of the morning, Finn stood in his stall as Jake threw the saddle over his back. Standing in the doorway of the barn you watch as the sun is slowly peeking behind the clouds.

"You gonna help me over there?” Jake questions as you turn to face him, he stands in the stall beside Finns beside another horse, all black with a hint of brown on his snout.

“This is Percy” you smile, walking to him slowly. Percy approaches you slowly as you hold your hand out to him, he happily nuzzles into your hand. “Lets saddle em up” Jake grins, walking to the tack room and grabbing a saddle for you. Rushing behind him he pulls the saddle off the shelf. “I’ve never done this before” he grins, walking back to the stall where you left Percy. He huffs as you help Jake toss the saddle over his back, reaching to put the strap under his belly.

Jake took over then as you sat back on the bale of hay. You ignored the buzzing of your phone in your purse as Jake's voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You ready?” Jake asks as you turn to face him, Finn stood beside him, his reins in Jake’s hands as Percy stood on the other side of him.

You nod, walking to him, taking the reins of Percy, he begins following your lead. Jake watches as you make your way to him, hands on his hips, “you want some help up there?” he asks as you nod shyly.

Jake puts his leg out and hands out towards you, “step up on my knee and I will help you the rest of the way” you look between him and the horse before Percy huffs heavily.

“Hold onto the horn, it will help when you swing your leg over,” Jake encourages as you reach up and hold onto the horn, his hands on your waist as he hoists you up into the saddle. You giggle, adjusting in the seat and running your fingers through Percy’s mane.

The sun had fully risen by the time you and Jake made it out on the trail. You couldn’t believe it. “It's so gorgeous” you mumble beside him as he looks over at you, “yeah? A texas sunrise is perfect” he agrees as you both stop on the hillside. Percy and Finn both huffing at the standstill, “Jake?” he hums in response as you look over at him.

“Thank you for making this trip really memorable” he grins. “I need to make any Austin trip memorable” he replies, grinning as a peaceful silence falls between you both.

“I guess we should head back” you sigh as he nods.

“Race ya!” you grin, rushing by him on Percy, squealing loudly. “Hey! No fair you got a head start!” he laughs behind you, clicking his teeth to rush after you.

+

Sliding the shade up beside you, the sunny skies of California greets you.

Smiling shyly, you watch as the beaches slowly come into view, the world of California becoming more than just a little speck in the sky.

“Welcome to San Diego International, we hope you enjoy your stay” you smile shyly at the flight attendant, making your way through the terminal. A weekend away from San Diego was more than enough for you. Standing at baggage claim you sigh heavily. You knew the amount of work was waiting for you in the office tomorrow.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling it out, you smile,

Jeanie: did you make it home okay?

smiling, you typed a quick reply.

You: yes jeanie i did, now please go and finalize all them wedding details!

You smile at the love reaction to the message. Making your way out the airport you can’t help the lingering feeling maybe Jake was there too, collecting his baggage.

You did travel together before but your flights home were different. You made your way to the long term parking, adjusting the Texas Longhorn t-shirt on your shoulders.

After being home for a couple of days, you make your way through the office doors, briefcase in hand and you can hear the cheers of your colleagues.

“She’s back!” your assistant, Andi cheers as you smile. “Hello hello” you laugh walking past her to make your way into your office, stopping at the vase on your desk.

“What’s that?” you question, setting the briefcase in the chair,approaching your desk. “I don’t know” Andi mumbles as she smiles, “they were delivered early this morning” she adds.

Reaching for the card you pluck it off, opening it.

Have a great first day back, don’t ask how I found out where you work or that it was your first day back ;), J

you smile, shutting the card. “I know where they are from” you mumble, smiling at the wildflowers in the vase. She nods, making her way out of the office and shutting the door gently.

Reaching for your phone, you smile and quickly type out the message.

You: Stalkerish much? The flowers are beautiful, thank you

you see the little ‘read’ before the ellipsis came and went. 

“You are awfully smiley” Coyote notes as Jake looks up from his phone, setting it beside him on the chair in the common room. “Eh” he shrugs as Rooster and Bob sit down on the couch across from them. “No i noticed it, it's been going on for a couple days” Bob notes as he sighs.

“He met someone” Phoenix mumbles behind her oatmeal, sitting beside Rooster with a smirk. “You did?” Coyote snaps as Jake sighs, “I mean, I did” he nods as the group oos and ah’s. “Are we gonna meet her?!” Fanboy questions as Jake shrugs with a smirk.

“Who knows?” He stands and makes his way past the group, “now if you excuse me, I am gonna go start working on some flight plans” he walks out the room as the group cheers at the slight blush on his cheeks but a smirk on his face.

He had a plan. 

The office was quiet. All the lights were off except for your office and Andi’s desk where she worked on her own filing of cases. The elevator doors open and she thinks nothing of it as the cleaners were on their way in for the evening.

“Excuse me” Andi looks up from her desk, eyes widening at the man in front of her. Stood in his flight suit, Jake grins, hands in his pockets as she takes her glasses off.

“Do you know where I could find (y/n) (y/l/n)?” he questions as she looks at him, blinking. “Uh, she stepped out quickly but her office is there, can I ask who you are?” she questions as he smiles. “My name's Jake, can I wait for her there?” he motions to the office doors as she nods.

He makes his way inside, smiling as he notices how homey your office was, looking through the photos. “Andi, please go home” he perks up at the sound of your voice with a grin, he stands, making his way to the middle of the room. “I have my own work” he hears Andi argue as you shake your head, “please go home, we can work more tomorrow” after a few minutes of debate, Andi sighs.

You push the door open, heels skidding on the carpet floor. Jake stands with a sheepish smile on his lips, hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” he grins, “jake?” you question. “Oh my god” you rush to him, arms around his neck as you hug him tightly. “What are you doing here?!” you pull away from him with wide eyes, “I felt one weekend in Austin was not enough and needed to see you again" he smiles at the blush on your cheeks.

+

The bass from the bar could be heard for miles as you sat beside Jake in his Jeep. He climbs out and makes his way to your side, hand held out to help you out of the vehicle.

“Welcome to the hard deck my dear” he grins, hand on the small of your back as the two of you make your way inside.

You and Jake had been seeing each other now exclusively for a few weeks and he was ready to introduce you to the Dagger Squad.

The bar was quiet still for the early hours of the night. “Hangman!” the voice yells, Jake's hand reaches for yours, “my friends are overbearing okay?” he warns as you nod slowly, “okay” you chuckle, lacing your fingers with his and follow behind him.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Rooster shouts with a smile, eyes falling beside Jake to you. Standing beside Jake you slightly move behind him, looking around you as you feel multiple sets of eyes on you.

“Funny Rooster” Jake comments as he looks over at you, “guys, this is (y/n)” you look over then, smiling at the group as Jake introduces each aviator one by one.

Phoenix, you learn is Natasha stands and holds a hand out to you, “we appreciate your service” you giggle, shaking her hand. “Well, I appreciate yours” you giggle, sitting between her and Jake.

Within minutes the two of you hit it off.

You feel a gentle tap on your shoulder as the song on the jukebox changes, you look up at Jake who grins. The jukebox begins playing The Righteous Brothers, You’ve lost that lovin feeling.

You giggle, looking at him with furrowed brows, “you owe me a dance” he motions you over, “c’mon” he grins as you take his outstretched hand, standing and following him.

You giggle as he begins singing along to you, “you’ve lost that lovin feelin”. You giggle, arms around his neck as his hands fall to your waist, grin on his lips. “We really need to thank Jean and Johnny” he mumbles against your forehead as you lean into him, “why's that?” he grins as the two of you sway to the music.

“They brought me you, even though you were here in San Diego right under my nose” he whispers in your ear as you blush, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.

“Hey” he encourages you to look up at him, he smiles and reaches out cupping your cheek. “I mean it” he adds as you smile up at him.

“All it took was traveling 1,154 miles to Austin Texas” you smile as he chuckles, “between California or Texas, i choose to spend it with you” he grins, “even though you pushed me out of the way for a seat?” he rolls his eyes playfully, “okay beside that” you smile.

“You made texas so enjoyable and now you make my life here enjoyable” he grins, leaning down to connect your lips, pulling your face closer to him.

Standing on your tippy toes to meet him closer, his lips tasted of the michelob ultra and a hint of the mint gum he was chewing earlier.

Pulling away from him slowly you smile, forehead against his as he grins. “I’d find you again between here and texas all over again” he whispers as you smile, “you big softy” he grins connecting your lips again.

Maybe being the only single friend in the group wasn’t as horrible as you thought.

if you enjoyed this fic and would like to read anything else - you can find that here.

if you requested this fic, thank you! I hope I have done some justice to what you requested as I took FOREVER on it. I enjoy writing Jake so much - keep the requests coming I LOVE them!

[lcvelust]

Family Line / Sirius Black

Sirius runs away from home.

Rapid footsteps were heard outside, followed by a hurried rapping of knuckles against the door; the sound breaking the stillness that had comfortably settled itself in the room.

You raised your head in alarm, nearly dropping the book you were holding, and perching your mug atop the coffee table. Standing up abruptly, you made your way to the door, the floorboards creaking beneath your weight and harmonizing with the nerves clawing at your skin.

“Who’s there?”

You ask quite defensively, thick pulses of air escaping your mouth— ragged breathing reflecting on your chest that heaved harshly.

“I—it’s me. Please, let me in,”

His voice was filled with hurt, and you felt your brows etching together in worry. Pulling your lips taut, you breathed, “Sirius..?”

You were met with his pained expression as you cautiously pulled open the door; his long, usually neatly tousled hair, was matted against his forehead. His jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, unzipped— and he looked more disheveled than he would ever will himself to be.

Words were caught in your throat, as you stared at his face that was bubbling with emotion, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. Without a second thought, you pulled him into your embrace, hand going straight to his back like it was second nature.

You gently closed the door with your foot as Sirius clung to you desperately, seemingly wanting to keep himself grounded as he let a sob force its way out of his mouth.

His touch burned you, making your heart skip beats as he clutched at your shirt, out of breath and hurting. His pain was raw and palpable, and you could feel the weight of it seep into your own chest, a knot tightening there that you couldn’t quite untangle.

“I.. I left home,”

He mumbled against your chest, his voice muffled as he looked up at you through red-rimmed eyes, his words stumbling over one another like broken pieces of something too fragile to hold.

“Regulus. I convinced him to come with, but..” he hiccupped, his body trembling with a pain that went beyond words, “He’s far too gone.”

He smiled bitterly, eyes darting from one of your features to another, as if searching for something to anchor him. He fidgeted with his hands on your back, unable to still himself.

You nodded, your heart aching for him, urging him to speak, to let it all out— to unload the burden he’d been carrying alone for so long. You were there, all of you, to listen.

Slotting your palm against his cheek, you gazed into his face, soft and open now in a way he had never allowed to be shown to anyone else. His gray eyes fluttered, flickering with emotion, and you could almost hear the whispers of wounds that you know will take a while to heal. He tilted his face into your touch, and you felt an ache behind your ribs, the ache of something more— something you had never quite allowed yourself to understand until now.

“Oh, Sirius,” you cooed, your voice trembling with sorrow for the boy who had never quite known peace inside of his own family. You broke away from the hug gently, your fingers running through his hair, soothing him with the simple, tender gesture.

“It’s not your fault, love,” you murmured, your voice low, wrapping around him like a blanket of warmth, the words flowing with the kind of certainty you had always wished to offer him.

He blinks, and you feel a twinge of fondness racking through your body, settling at your stomach as you lead him to the plush couch in which you’ve previously sat.

“It’s not your fault that you couldn’t have saved your brother from your parent’s grasps. I’m sure he made his decision long ago. Regulus isn’t a child anymore, Sirius.”

He looked down, a sniffle escaping him as he leaned his head against your shoulder, his breath shallow and uneven. The silence between you felt like a conversation in itself, a heavy, thoughtful kind of stillness that enveloped the room.

His body shook with the force of his emotions, the weight of the years pressing down on him, and it seemed as though all the walls he had built around himself were crumbling. His usual cocky, defiant demeanor had faded, leaving behind something softer, more human. And still, he tried to form coherent thoughts, words slipping from him like water through a cracked vessel.

“I know.. It’s just that he’s my little brother. I loved him.” His voice cracked, and the words tumbled from his lips with an agonizing rawness. “I love him.”

You sighed, your hand finding his, holding it with gentle reassurance. You rubbed his shoulder in slow strokes, your own heart pulsing with a rhythm that mirrored his own tremors.

“You did your part, Pads.” You said softly, your voice like a quiet lullaby meant to soothe. “You gave him everything you could. He knows that, deep down.”

His body relaxed a fraction, his sobs turning into quiet, shuddering breaths, and you could feel his tension ease, if only for a moment.

You let the quiet settle around the two of you, his head resting on your shoulder as you both sank into the cushions. You could feel the warmth of him beside you, the weight of him grounding you in ways you couldn’t explain.

“I know you’re tired, Sirius,” you murmured, pulling him closer, your hand tracing circles on his back. “You’ve been carrying this for far too long. Rest.”

“Can I stay at your place for a while? Just until I find somewhere. Please.” He spoke after a moment, voice small, fragile, and breaking something deep inside you.

“As long as you wish, Sirius.” You whispered back, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His lips curved upwards, slow and weary, as the tension in his body finally began to give way to the exhaustion that had been creeping up on him for days.

You watched him closely, the peace settling over him like a delicate, fleeting thing. His eyes fluttered shut, and you pressed your lips to his temple, a soft, lingering kiss— one filled with all the affection you had for him.

Even just for a night, the world outside would cease to exist. There was only the two of you—the quiet, steady rhythm of your breathing and the warmth of his body against yours. The chaos of the world could wait. Right now, Sirius needed peace. And as you held him, as you cradled him in your arms, you realized that maybe, just maybe, he would find it here, in this moment.

“Oh, how Regulus had grown up without you.”

[emmylksblog]

GAVI BF HEADCANONS!

based on this request

a/n: i think it's accurate to his personality, tried to fit everything i could think of. hope yall like it! 🫶🏻

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is terrible at hiding his emotions. If he’s mad about something, he’ll sulk for exactly five minutes before bursting out with whatever’s on his mind. But if it’s about you, his frustration softens immediately: “I’m not mad at you, okay? I just… I care too much, that’s all.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi gets super competitive with you, even over silly things. Whether it’s who can fold the laundry faster or who wins at Mario Kart, he’ll take it way too seriously. But if you win, he’ll let out a dramatic groan and accuse you of cheating—before pulling you into a playful hug. “Fine, you’re better. But only this time.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves spontaneous adventures. If you’re lying around on a lazy Sunday, he’ll suddenly grab your hand and say, “Get dressed—we’re going out.” He doesn’t always have a plan, but somehow, his impulsive nature makes every outing feel exciting, whether it’s a drive to nowhere or ice cream at midnight.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi hates being apart from you. If he has to leave for a game, he’ll call or text you nonstop: “What are you doing? Are you eating? Are you thinking about me?” His teammates tease him, but he doesn’t care. “Shut up, this is important,” he’ll say, grinning at his phone.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is easily flustered by compliments. If you tell him he looks good before a game, he’ll try to act cool, but his cheeks will flush immediately. He’ll mumble a quick “Gracias, guapa,” then pretend to focus on his laces just to hide how much he’s blushing.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has no chill when it comes to showing affection. If he’s proud of you, he’ll shout it from the rooftops. If he misses you, he’ll tell you ten times in one call. “I don’t care if I’m being annoying—I just love you, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi’s protective instincts kick in everywhere. If you’re out walking and it starts to rain, he’ll instantly take off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders, muttering something about “not letting you get sick.” He acts like it’s no big deal, but he’ll grumble if you try to give it back.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is obsessed with your laugh. He’ll do anything to hear it—bad impressions, dumb jokes, or even tickling you mercilessly. When you tell him to stop, he’ll grin mischievously: “Not until you admit my jokes are funny!”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has a short temper, but you’re his exception. If anyone else frustrates him, he’s quick to snap, but with you, he’ll pause, take a breath, and say, “I don’t want to argue with you. Let’s figure this out, yeah?” He’s not perfect, but he’s trying for you.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi always forgets his own stuff but never yours. He’ll leave his keys or wallet behind constantly, but if you’ve mentioned needing something, he’ll somehow remember and surprise you with it. “You said you ran out of this, right?” he’ll ask casually, secretly proud of himself.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi insists on being your biggest fan. Whether it’s something big like a work presentation or something small like making the perfect coffee, he’ll hype you up as if you just won an award: “That’s my girl! I told you you’re amazing.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves subtle physical touch. He’ll rest his hand on your knee during long car rides, tug gently at your sleeve if he wants your attention, or intertwine his pinky with yours when no one’s looking. It’s his way of saying, “I’m here. Always.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is a mess when it comes to surprises. He’ll try to plan something cute, like decorating your room or buying you flowers, but he’s so bad at keeping secrets that he’ll end up blurting it out before the surprise happens: “Okay, don’t be mad, but I have something planned… just act surprised, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi pretends he doesn’t like cheesy romantic movies. But when you make him watch one, he gets way too into it, yelling at the characters or tearing up at emotional scenes. “I’m not crying—it’s just allergies,” he’ll say, avoiding your teasing smirk.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi talks about the future without realizing it. Whether it’s casually mentioning how your kids would “definitely love football” or joking about what kind of house you’d live in, his words always carry that unspoken promise: “I’m not going anywhere.”