#do you think his head whistles when the wind blows

[feddy-34]

nicky is never not pissing me off he is dumb as rocks

[s0urw00lf]

Love is in the air

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: you unknowingly give Dean another reason to fall deeper in love with you

Warning: complete and utter fluff and sam is a girls girl.

A/N: idk if anyone has done something like this, but I really loved it and I think it’s my favorite fic I’ve written yet. Also this isn’t proofread so if you see any mistakes please let me know. I wrote this at 5 am so I probably won’t notice any mistakes. Anywho hope you enjoy!!!

Today’s hunt had been a bust after you and Dean were tasked by Sam to be the cliche “couple in love” so that the envious love witch would target you instead of some other innocent couple.

So now you and Dean were in the impala driving back to the motel that happened to be about a fourty five minute drive away from the restaurant she was targeting.

The night was silent aside from the quiet music Dean had playing in the background and the light tapping of his thumbs against the steering wheel. Dean looked incredibly good in his suit and tie, a look you wish he’d worn more often.

To Dean you looked better than any angel that could grace his presence, when you exited the bathroom with your off the shoulder black form fitting dress and high heels that made your legs look like heaven, his knees almost buckled and they would’ve hadn’t it been for Sam who was there to catch him before he could.

“Hey dean?” You asked softly, drawing his attention from the empty road to you, replying with a ‘hmm’. His green eyes were extra bright in the darkness and made you want to melt in your seat.

“Can I roll down the window?” You asked, it was an odd request on your part, because you usually don’t like the pressure the harsh wind puts on your head. Dean eyebrows rose in surprise before answering “f’course sweetheart, sure it’s not gonna make your head hurt?” he asked sincerely

You shook your head “no it won’t be for long I just… want to try something” you said, pausing in thought you hoped that the feeling would push away the sadness you felt. He nodded glancing back at the road, “okay then go for it” he said with a smile.

You clicked the button to roll down the window and felt immediately relaxed. You put your arm out of the window, closing your eyes and let the wind blow on your face and whistle past your ears.

Dean watched with love in his eyes at how relaxed you looked, he could tell that the your failure to obtain the witches attention had bothered you but decided against saying anything, but as soon as the wind hit your face its like all that sadness slipped away with the wind.

You sat like that for a minute or so before deciding that was enough, you opened your eyes looking for the button again before an idea struck you. You paused in thought ‘would that be too cliche’ you asked yourself, but ultimately you told yourself ‘who cares, do it’ so you did.

You surprised Dean when you stuck your torso out of the window, he immediately grabbed on to your thigh in case you accidentally slipped. You raised your arms as the wind that was way stronger whipped past you, the air was sticky which you’d guessed was from the rain that had fell a few hours prior but you could care less.

For the first time in a life time you felt completely and utterly free, from the worries of the things that lurk in the dark, from death, and disappointment. But the feel of dean hand on your thigh mixed with the wind whipping past you and through your hair made you want to cry of happiness.

Dean watched you from inside of the car, how beautiful you looked, in that moment he was convinced you were sent right from heaven into his arms just so he could live this moment. He saw all of your worries slip away as a carefree smile graces your face. The light from the streetlight lit you up like a pop star on stage and he was your audience.

You caught him even more by surprise when you let out a loud and cheery “woooo” and it seemed like time had slowed. If both of his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve taken a picture, but he couldn’t and he would have to rely on his memory to recall this moment for the rest of his life. He wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t crashed the car.

Your heart thumped loudly at the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and that’s when you decided to get back in the car. You seated yourself back on the seat and rolled up the window before letting out the most cheerful laugh Dean had ever heard from you and just the sound itself had his heart souring. “Holy. I see why they do that in movies” you said, looking at him with the most genuine smile he’d ever seen.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that took over his features at the happiness gleaming from your face. You were glowing and it was the most precious moment of his life. “You are gorgeous sweetheart” he said, he couldn’t help that it slipped past his lips, but the look on your face showed it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You rolled your eyes, still smiling “whatever, eyes on the road Winchester, I don’t want to be roadkill because you’re too distracted” you joked. Dean huffed out a laugh in response.

For the rest of the ride the two of you basked in the happiness that replaced the previous gloom. And when you arrived at the motel, Dean was the first one out the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you. “Such a gentleman, if I’d known you’d be this sweet I would’ve let you take me on a date sooner” you joked, but Dean didn’t take it as one. “Then let me” he said genuinely.

Your smile faltered, ‘is he messing with me?’ You thought “what” you said, it was the only thing you could get out. “Let me take you on a date. A real date not one where we have to look over our shoulders the whole time. Let me take out on a date to drink champagne and eat all those fancy meals that don’t even fill you up” Dean said almost sounding as if he was begging.

Dean grabbed your hands “y/n if you let me I will go the whole nine yards. Flowers, a gift, rent a fancy car and order valet whatever you-“ you cut dean off with a kiss to which he immediately returned. The kiss was soft and sweet, you could feel his eyelashes slightly brush against your cheek, and the way he relaxed into the kiss made you swoon.

His hands dropped yours and he placed his on your hips and you bought yours around his neck pulling him deeper into it. You only pulled away because your lungs had began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Deans eyes remained closed for a little longer, reveling in the feel of your lips against his and your body pressing against him. “Woman you drive me insane” he muttered before opening his eyes.

He was graced with the sight of you smiling up at him with your arms still around his neck. “You can take me on a date Winchester, but it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. We could go to a diner in baby and I’d be just as happy” you said softly, your nose brushing his.

It wasn’t often Dean was rendered speechless, but in that moment he was sure you were made for him and only him. “O-okay” he stuttered. You giggled in amusement “have I rendered you speechless?” You teased, and deans cheeks reddened. “Maybe this will knock some words back into your head” you said before pressing your lips against his for the second time, only this time you didn’t give him enough time to recuperate.

“Hey I wasn’t done” he pouted, and you laughed loudly. Pulling away from him you closed the door to baby and began to drag him back to your shared motel room with Sam who you were sure was watching you wondering why it was taking so long for you to enter the room.

“C’mon Winchester we can talk out the details later” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led to your room.

Added bonus:

Sam had seen the blush on deans cheeks and he pure happiness in the both of your eyes. Dean quickly excused himself to the bathroom and Sam looked at you with raised brows. He’d helped you pick out that dress, telling you “Dean won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you”. You gave him the biggest smile trying to contain your excitement “it worked” you whisper yelled. A huge smile broke out on Sam’s face “I told you it would” he said.

He had been the biggest supporter of you and his brother’s possible relationship. “He asked me out Sammy” you whispered so Dean wouldn’t hear. You threw yourself on the bed like a teenager from one of those romance sitcoms you claimed to not like, but before Sam could ask for more details the bathroom door opened revealing a slightly less blushy Dean.

He eyes you two skeptically “what are you two whispering about” he asked. “Just figuring out how we’ll get the witch now” you quickly lied. If Dean suspected you were lying he didn’t show, because he immediately turned his back to you and Sam trying to get his tie off. You sent Sam a quick and subtle wink that meant ‘I’ll tell you later’ and he nodded trying to hide his smile

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[rainylana]

Taste on an Image: New neighbor

Eddie Munson x female reader

a little longer than my usually one of these! just a fluffy blurb! no warnings!

“Why don’t you go say hi instead of standing there gawking.” Wayne shook his head, closing the door to the trailer as he gave his nephew a once over.

Eddie jumped, surprised by his uncle’s appearance. “I’m not gawking.” He swallowed. “I’m observing from afar.”

“Well whatever it is you’re doing is probably freaking her out.” Wayne pointed to you outside in the yard, a few trailers down the road as you hung clothes outside on your line.

“She doesn’t even know I’m here.” Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning against the mailbox. “Geez, she sure is pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah.” Wayne gave a gruff nod. “Go talk to her. Be neighborly. God knows no one else around here will be.” He patted his nephews shoulder and went inside, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts.

You’d moved in just a few days ago, gaining the attention of Eddie like bees to honey. You were gorgeous, and by the looks of it, single. He readjusted his jacket and slicked back his hair, wiping his mouth with his sleeve to make sure no absent crumbs were festering on his mouth. Last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

Eddie walked down the gravel road, waving awkwardly at the neighbors he past that were halfway drunk for the weekend.

“Hello.” He called out to you, standing near your mailbox.

You spun around, smile on your face that nearly made him fall flat on his back, and took a step forward. “Hi!”

God, he was in love already.

“Hi.” He repeated again, lifting up a hand he wasn’t sure what he was doing with. “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. We’re neighbors. I live just a few trailers down.” He pointed down the road to his house, blushing as he did so.

“Oh, how nice!” You beamed, setting down your laundry. “I’m y/n.” You quickly walked toward him, extending your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. It’s sweet of you to come introduce yourself. No one has yet. I was starting to think I wasn’t wanted.” You laughed, tucking your hands in your pockets.

Your authenticity of casualness made his nerves settle. “Yeah, well, the people are weary of strangers.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot of kids around here, too, so be careful when you leave. I almost run one over every time I pull out of my driveway.” He chuckled, brown eyes crinkling under the sun.

You laughed and he swore it made his heart swell. Two minutes in and he was already whipped.

“Is it just you?” He asked, peaking over your shoulder and back at your home.

“Just me.” You pursed your lips. “I’m from Chicago. I used to work in the news paper office downtown but decided I needed a change of scenery.” You shrugged your shoulders, the wind barely whistling over your words.

“I run the mechanic shop here in town with my uncle.” Eddie pointed over his shoulder down to his home. “I live with him. Have ever since I was a boy.”

“Well I’d love to meet him sometime!” You smiled. “Maybe you can show me around town later this week? If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’d be honored to escort you.” He smirked, giving you a wink that made you snicker. “Just give me a day. There’s a great diner that I can sweet talk the waitresses in giving us free desert.”

“You seem like you’re good at sweet talking.” You give him a playful look, crossing your arms.

“Well, I don’t like to brag.” He held out his arms, closing his eyes briefly in a smug look.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking back to your clothes line that was blowing in the wind. “I’d invite you in for something to drink but I’m afraid I’m not quiet finished unpacking yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held out a ringed hand. “You need any help? Wayne and I would be happy to assist.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head politely. “I’ll be finished soon. It’s mostly just my clothes and some decorations. I really don’t have that much.”

He could almost feel his uncle’s eyes searing into the back of his head.

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself.” He stepped back. “Let us know if you need anything. Oh! And remember,” He pointed to your car. “You’ve got a mechanic for a neighbor if you ever need one.”

He left while he was ahead, feeling confident that he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He smiled the whole walk home, fists clenched in a celebratory manor as he practically skipped inside.

“Well?” Wayne asked, leaning against the fridge.

“What do you mean well?” Eddie snorted. “Like you didn’t stare at us the whole time through the window.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man hid his smirk behind his mud of coffee.

“She’s nice.” He plopped down on the couch. “She smiles a lot. She’s beautiful. I don’t know, Wayne, this might be the girl of my dreams.” Eddie laughed, shaking his head with pursed lips.

“Uh-huh.” Wayne rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t start planning a wedding yet, son.”

[polarisjisung]

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff

warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)

notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head

[shirakow]

˗ˏˋ꒰ synopsis ꒱ ; you accidentally summoned a demon , and he can't leave without doing something for you: either kill someone, or... Fuck you.

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Devil!Rody Lamoree x FTM!Reader .

. . . words ; 3.5k+

EXTRA ! porn with plot , also request box is open for people who want more studio investigrave related fics !

Summoning demons wasn't really in your bucket list for this year, but somehow, you were pushed to the breaking point. You never thought they'd go this far for an april fools prank.

Sure you've always known they held a small hate for you—actually, small was a bit of an understatement but it's whatever, your anger was far deeper than the dislike they had for you anyway—but you never thought they'd decide to bring you to an abandoned warehouse, topped with a summoning circle drawn on the ground with what you hoped was ketchup, and proceeded to leave.

You never took them for the cultist types, then again, they always did sacrifice you on multiple occasions (those sacrifices being leaving you to take the blame while they ran from the cops for trespassing on private property and a bunch of other things).

A sigh escaped past your lips as you recalled all the times they've done you wrong, and decided that once you're out of this place, you're dropping them for good. "I'm going home." You whispered as you stared at the red pentagram on the dirty cement floor, decorated with a lit candle on each end of the star. You then proceeded to turn around and jumped out of your skin when a rat appeared in front of you.

You gasped and stumbled backwards, only to trip over a stick that was conveniently placed right behind your heel, and fell back on the ground; laying inside the pentagram your friends had drawn. A loud groan erupted from your throat as you tried to scramble away from the rat—which had long since disappeared—and accidentally cut yourself on the broken cement.

With a hiss, you looked at your finger and watched as a trickle of blood dripped down onto the floor. You sighed and wiped it away on your shirt while you stood up, "Fuck this, fuck them—" you were gonna run to their house, and slap every single one of their fucking faces.

As the thought passed through your head, a sudden gust of wind blew through you, and the once lit candles were put out. You paused and looked around you with unease. It was creepy enough that you were alone in an abandoned building, but to have a large gust of wind blow through your body in a confined space was even creepier. You gulped thickly and backed away, trying to reach for your phone in your pocket when you suddenly felt something breathing down your neck.

Your eyes widened, and your body immediately shut down. Not even a few seconds later, a loud growl eminated from the creature behind you, and then a whisper, "... You gonna move off my foot or what?" You practically screamed and instinctively ran forward— and let me tell you, it was a real bad idea, because you Immediately hit a wall.

The creature—which you assumed was a demon or a squatter or a fucking werewolf—whistled as it watched you fall back on the ground. "That's gotta hurt..." You groaned and covered your face, "No shit it hurt!" You yelled at it, and reached for your phone in your pocket and turned the flashlight on.

Only to be faced with a tan man with hair a dirty orange, and curious green eyes that stared down at you while you kept laying on the floor. You dropped your phone on your face in shock. But the one thing that stood out about him were the pair of black horns that sat on his head. "You've gotta stop doing that."

"What? Is being scared a weird reaction now, dipshit?!" You yelled as you rubbed your nose. The demon raised his hands in a surrendering motion, "Says the human who summoned me." He defended himself in a nonchalant demeanor. You sat up and scrunched your face at him, "I did not summon you. I didn't even think the pentagram worked."

"It's a pentagram, how would it not work." He rose a brow while his tail swung around, "It's not like it was made of ketchup or anything." You couldn't bring yourself to tell him that you did think it was made out of ketchup. He'd probably laugh at you. Instead, you eyed him up and down with the light you had, before you spoke, "So... You gonna grant me three wishes or something?"

"I'm a demon, not a genie. The only three things I can give you is my name, age, and occupation." He murmured blankly, "So how 'bout it? I need to get paid too."

"Then give me those three things." You replied, "My name's Rody, I'm 382 years old, I think. I stopped counting after 380, and obviously I'm a demon." Rody introduced himself with a smile, almost a purr to his voice as he did. "Cool. You can go away now." You said as you shooed him away and tried to walk off, only to be stopped when he pulled you back by your shirt.

"Wait no—you can't just leave!" Rody said with what appeared to be a small pout, "Demons like me just can't go away without fulfilling a certain job for the human who summoned them. So it's either you ask me to kill someone for you, or..." He trailed off and blushed at the thought. "... You use me for your own p-pleasure..."

You stared at him blankly as he fumbled with his black vest, "What are you? Some teenage boy?" he took offense to this and immediately shook his head, "I am not a teenage boy!"

"And I am not asking you to do any of that." You mumbled and tried to walk away again, "Just lie and say you did one of the two—" "—well I can't! You know they're always watching me!"

Rody was practically begging as he clung to you. He sure was putting the title of a demon to shame. "I'm not lying to you, I swear. As much as I don't want to be here..." Rody trailed off, like even he didn't believe his last words. "Well, it's been a while since I've been out in the field so it was kinda lonely waiting in my apartment but that's besides the point!" He ranted unintentionally, before he shook his head.

Rody noticed the way you stared at him, and he cleared his throat to compose himself. "Just, ask me for anything." He said more seriously as he let you go.

You thought about it, and sighed. "Fine. But I'm not asking you to kill anyone." You murmured and looked down at the floor. As tempting as it sounds, you weren't gonna just tell him to kill your friends. It was silent, as if Rody was waiting for you to initiate something. At least he was willing to wait for your move.

You then got an idea, "Do demons like blood?" You asked him, looking back up into his green eyes. Rody rose a brow before he nodded, "I guess, especially if it's their summoners blood." He whispered, not sure where this is going. "Do they go insane with just a simple whiff?" You questioned once more, and before he could even get an answer out, you rose your sliced finger in front of his face.

Rody's eyes widened, "W-What are you doing?" He hesitantly asked as he split glances between your finger and your face. "What does it look like I'm doing? How long has it been since you've tasted human blood?" A red glint flashed over Rody's eyes as he leant forward, and took your wrist into his calloused hands. "... Too long..." He whispered and gently kissed your skin, before licking the blood with a groan.

"... I feel so dirty... Licking your dried up blood like this..." Rody gazed back down at you with lidded eyes, "I'm not that much of a savage." He muttered as he kissed your lips. His hands immediately finding their way onto your hips and he pulled your body closer to his bigger one, "You don't mind I just..." Rody whispered against the kiss, using his sharp canines to bite down onto your bottom lip—enough to draw blood as he closed his mouth on the wound and sucked on the red liquid.

You hissed at the slight pain that he inflicted onto you. Noticing your reaction, Rody pulled away and pecked your bruised lip, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it..." He whined and kissed down your chin, "Forgive me?" Rody's hands traveled under your shirt to caress your skin underneath. You gasped, feeling the rough pads of his fingers rubbing your hardening nipples. Rody trailed his lips down to the side of your neck, gently nibbling on the skin.

You felt yourself get pushed back against the wall while his knee moved to go in between your legs. Rody pressed himself closer to you, letting his thigh rub against your core. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you..." He cooed into your ear, "Pretty boy..." Rody praised as he suddenly pinched your nipples. You bit your bottom lip to stifle your moans, too embarrassed to let anything out.

But Rody wasn't having any of it. "Let me hear you." He said blankly, and before you knew it, his hand was inside your pants, already thumbing at your engorged clit. "Come on, pretty boy... I'll make you feel so good... Just let me hear your voice..." Rody encouraged you in his velvety smooth voice.

You threw your head back as an unexpected moan slipped past your lips, and a grin spread across Rody's face. "Atta boy, keep going." He removed his hand away from your chest and started to undo your pants, pulling them down to pool on your feet along with your underwear.

Rody took his time to admire you and your sopping cunt that was just begging for his attention. With a quick lick to his lips, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, and placed both his hands onto your thighs to keep them open for him. "Haven't tasted a sweet thing like this in a while..." He whispered in awe, "300 years ago, I'm guessing?" You quipped with a breathless chuckle.

Rody furrowed his brows and slapped your pussy, which made you whine, "If you're mouth's able to retort, then I'm guessing it can moan too." He grumbled as he then buried his face into your cunt. Your eyes widened, immediately reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair as he licked a stripe up your vulva.

You felt Rody close his lips around your throbbing clit harshly sucking and licking it. Your thighs shook, begging to close and push Rody away from the stimulation, but his strong hold prevented that. Rody placed his knee on your pants— the only thing that served as restraints for your ankles— and removed his hand from your thigh to gently tease your hole by circling around it with his fingers.

You whined, practically begging him to push it in, and when he did, a loud moan erupted from your kiss swollen lips. Rody chuckled against your heat, and sucked on your clit, the sounds of your wetness against his tongue making you cringe. Rody pumped his fingers in and out your pussy, curling and hitting all the right places in just the perfect angle.

Rody inserted another finger, his thick digits rubbing your gummy walls as he harshly finger fucked your pussy. "So lewd...~ Your pussies so wet, it's practically dripping down my hand..." He teased, and pulled his mouth away from your clit, instead using his other hand to swish his fingers side to side on the engorged bud. The sensation made you squeal, desperately trying to close your thighs around his hands but he stopped you.

"Whoa there, keep them open." Rody furrowed his briws and fingered your pussy faster. Tears rolled down your cheek from the pleasure, a small whimper sounding from you as you pulled Rody closer to your cunt. Without a second thought, Rody went back to licking your clit, wanting to overstimulate your senses until all that was left of you is a crying and moaning mess.

He thrusted his fingers even quicker at this, "Look at you... I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already crying..." He cooed, his hands tightening around your thigh as he licked his lips. You blushed at his words and immediately covered your mouth, getting too flustered by his teasing. You were getting so close, and it was driving you insane—a heat started to pool at the pit of your stomach, stating your impending release.

Rody grunted and suddenly pulled his fingers out—slapping your clit harshly. Your eyes widened as you let out a slutty moan, and before you knew it, you squirted all over him. Your thighs shook from how hard you came, your whole body turning to putty in his hold as more tears escaped from your eyes. With a cry, you glanced back down at Rody, only to see him staring up at you with the same shocked expresson on his face.

"Did you just cum from having your pussy slapped?" He asked, a small grin forming on his face. You sniffled and looked away in embarrassment, "N-No..." Rody chuckled and leant forward to kiss your cunt softly as a small apology for slapping it, "It was kinda hot, don't worry sweet boy." He praised and rose to his feet.

"Think you're ready for me?" Rody asked as he kissed your lips gently. You gave him a slow nod, and he smiled, "Alright." He undid his pants and belt, along with his underwear and let them pool on his feet. Rody was now half naked in front of you, his impressive size standing tall. It was probably the biggest cock you've ever seen. Probably the only cock you've ever seen, rather.

He placed his hands under your thighs and lifted you off the ground. Making sure to let your pants and shoes fall to the floor first so that you could wrap your legs around his waist, "Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?" Rody reassured you, and your eyes widened. You placed a hand on his chest, "W-Wait, that's it? You're just going in with no protection?"

He paused and stared at you blankly, "Babe, I'm a demon, not a prostitute. I didn't know I was gonna end up fucking someone today, of course I don't have a condom." Rody said in a monotone voice, as if it was already common sense. "If you're that worried, I can pull out... Don't worry." He whispered and pecked your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and gulped, "O-Okay..." You nodded. Rody positioned himself against your hole, rubbing the tip against the lips and smeared the precum all over your pussy. "Fuck, you're even wetter than before..." He chuckled and gently pushed the head of his cock in.

Your hissed at the stretch, immediately tightening around Rody when he pushed more of his length in. "S-Shit, don't tighten so much! I-I can't even go any further...!" Rody panted, closing his eyes at the warmth that wrapped around his weeping dick. "Just... Breathe for me, okay?" He massaged your ass, waiting for you to relax so that he could bottom out inside you, but for now, he remained unmoving.

You steadied your breathing, holding onto him tightly, and slowly nodded. Rody took this as a sign to keep going. He noticed he wasn't even halfway in, before he decided to just fuck it—and suddenly pushed himself in fully in one go. You gasped and cried, tears forming at the corners of your eyes at the pain and pleasure that pooled at the pit of your stomach.

Rody moaned into your neck, rubbing your thighs to soothe the pain. "Fuck... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry sweet boy... It's just that, I couldn't take it... I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you..." He kissed all over your shoulder, and slid a hand over to rub your clit in order to distract you from the pain.

You could only scratch at his back as your toes curled, "You're doing so good..." Rody whispered praises into your ear, waiting for you to adjust to his size. It was the least he could do for bottoming out harshly.

After a while, you gave Rody a nod. He put his hand back under your thigh, and slowly pulled out until only the tip was left inside, before pushing back in gently. A shudder ran down your spine at the pleasure that spread through your body.

Once he saw your positive reaction, Rody kept going at the pace he set; slow and steady. You gripped onto Rody tighter, strings of moans falling from your tongue as he kept thrusting. One particular thrust hit your g-spot head on, and Rody adjusted his angle so that he could hit it everytime. "You're so tight... So perfect for my cock..." He grunted into your ear, gripping your thighs tighter as he pulled all the way out and gave a harsh thrust into your sopping pussy.

You threw your head back and cried, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. Rody's wings flexed behind him at the pleasure, his own moans and groans stringing out from his mouth. "S-Shit...! N-Need to change your position..." Rody suddenly pulled out your heat, and put your feet down the ground. He turnt you around, and pulled your ass back against him and positioned himself once more, before he thrusted all the way in and continued his harsh thrusts.

Your tongue lolled out as you clawed at the walls. "R-Rody...!~" You squealed and looked down at your stomach, seeing a visible bump that formed whenever he thrusted into your tight cunt. Your eyes grew cloudy from the tears, and you reached down to press on the bump, finding pleasure in knowing he was so deep inside you.

You heard Rody laugh from behind you, "What? You like how I'm so deep inside your pussy?" He asked as he spanked you which made you sob, "Fuck, I love this pretty hole of yours..." Rody groaned and fucked you faster. He leant forward, pressing his chest against your back as he kissed your shoulder. Rody reached down and started rubbing your clit in timed with his thrusts, which caused you to shriek and shake your head. "N-No..! It's too much...!" You cried and babbled, your head turning into mush the more he fucked you stupid.

Rody pulled and rubbed your clit faster at your words, "You're close... Right? I'm close too..." He groaned, whimpering as he reached out to place his hand over your own against the wall. You panted like a bitch in heat, and sobbed, "R-Rody... C-Cum in me...! Please!~" You begged, unable to think straight anymore from the way Rody was bullying his cock into your cunt.

You were reduced into nothing but a toy for Rody's pleasure. Rody's eyes widened at this, and his thrusts faltered for a second, but you shook your head and let out strings of insistent 'no's. "P-Please keep going, keep going...!~" You pleaded. He was hesitant, but the way you were looking and begging... It was too much.

Rody groaned and pulled back, pushing your cheek against the wall with his hand, and fucked your cunt faster. His balls slapping against your pretty pussy lips, "You asked for this... Not me...!" He moaned loudly, feeling himself come closer to the edge.

Rody's thrusts grew more desperate and sloppy, before he gave one last thrust, and came inside you. You came right after him—squirting all over his fat cock. You drooled all over the wall as you closed your eyes from how hard you came. Rody panted and chuckled breathlessly as he stared at you, "You did so good..." He whispered and turned your head so that he could kiss you.

You tiredly reciprocated, whining when you felt your shared release dripping down your thighs. Rody pulled away and rubbed your sides, "You'll give me a five star

review right?" He grinned. You rolled your eyes and pushed his face away, "Is there even an app for this shit?" He pouted and nodded.

"Yeah, there is. It's called deviliscious."

"You're lying."

"Okay, yeah, I am."

"Just pull out you asshole."

@ shirakow ; Reblogs are always appreciated <3 it's like 5 am as I'm editing this and I haven't gotten any sleep .

ㅤ

[flowerfreya]

Hockey AU

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Content: Reader is in a secret relationship with Simon, who is a famous hockey player. Simon is injured in this and the reader needs to see him.

Masterlist

Simon is pissed. 

You can tell because he’s shit talking the other team. You see, Simon is usually quiet when he plays hockey. He’s focused. He just wants to play and win, but when his team starts losing, that when the shit talking starts.Simon is a sore loser, a hater to his core, and he knows that to throw off the other team is to shit talk. 

Simon is playing against a team that is okay , middle tier, they should be blowing them out the water instead the score is 2-1 and Simon has missed most of the shots that he took. You see him slam his stick on the ice, he does it so hard the stick breaks in half. 

The ref blows the whistle. That’s when you see the other player , wind back his hockey stick and swing it like a baseball bat to Simon's ankle. 

Simon’s ankle that been fucked up ever since his first game in professional hockey. The sports analysts talk about it every time that Simon has a game. Everytime Simon’s a little slow to goal they mention,”The ankle”. Meaning everyone knows that Simon aka Ghost on the ice has a bum ankle and the revival team just broke his stick against it. 

Simon doesn’t go down, but you see his back arch and then a yell. There is shoving from each side , a little bit of shit talking but not fighting yet. The player gets sent to the box and Ghost lines up and waits for the puck to drop. 

The ref blows the whistle and drops the buck but that seems like the least of their worries. Simon flings his stick to the side and throws off his gloves and just starts hammering the other team. In fact, all of them are fighting. Soap, Gaz, and Koing. You know how hockey players are, what that player did to Simon , it was like he did it to all of them and now they have to pay for that. 

You're not worried about Simon, he’s done this before and skated away. He probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow but you’ll just have to find a way to get him to stay in bed. 

The next play has you worried though. They are skating fast gaining traction then like a duel they start heading towards each other each pumping their legs trying to go as fast as possible but SImon already hurt, he’s always hurt , he never lets himself recover. He is always sore and stiff. 

The other player leans forward and bulldozers into Simon. 

Simon is on the ground, spinning, and then stops. The crowd lets out a collective gasp. You wait 15 seconds, you know the drill.He just got the wind knocked out of him, he’s fine. He will get back up. He doesn’t get back up. 

You start to move toward the tunnel, you know they won’t let you on the ice. Shit, they probably won’t let you in the tunnel. No one knows about you and Simon. Simon wants to tell everyone but his agent thinks it will hurt the Ghost persona he has. That means this relationship is just between you and him ( and maybe Soap … and Price … and Gaz, but he doesn’t know that and neither do you). 

You get there quick enough to beat the chaos that is about to ensue but you can only get so far before someone is stopping you. 

“Ma’am you can’t be back here, it’s a secure area”, the officer is looking at you strangely. You know you look crazy, wide eyes, and breathing too fast to be normal. But you know Simon is hurt. You know Simon is hurt, bad.And you need to see him. 

“Right”, you're trying to think fast , how can you get past him?How do you see Simon?, how to make sure he’s okay?

“You see I need to get back there, one of the player’s is hurt and I need to see him”

“You're on the medical team?”, he looks at you skeptical, he doesn’t believe you. Shit, you don’t believe you. 

“Yes”, you nod , you can hear the actual medical staff coming and you do something crazy. You dart past the security guard, you hear a hey!, but he can’t catch you. You wind up in the locker room and look for Simon’s cubicle and then you hid. 

You can hear Simon before you see him, “I’m fine, just took a hit , it’s hockey”, he growls. You hear Price say to him as calm as possible, “You passed out, we can’t allow you to go back”

“I’m fine, give me the head test, I’ll pass and you can put me back in”

“No” 

“Why?” 

“You try to go back out there , you’ll be missing more than this game”, Price answers back. 

That's when the security guard you ran past, whips into the room and asks if they have seen you, he describes you perfectly and they both shake their head, no. 

Simon waits till everyone clears out the room , before he calls your name, and you slip out of his locker. 

“First, you need to power wash this locker.Second, are you okay?”, you walk up to him trying to scan his body but he still has all his gear on making it harder to tell. 

Simon has never lied to you about being hurt and how much sometimes he just doesn’t want to do the work today, “My head feels like someone is taking a hammer and is just going to town”, he takes a seat and starts taking off his uniform. 

[saekkas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

summary: in which someone catcalls you and he's there to defend.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

note: i split it into two this time because i honestly can't see them doing anything else.

𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 as if he doesn't know you, even with his hands clearly around your waist. does it to out of love above anything else, it's his way of trying to make you comfortable. will try to be playful with his actions and words but if anyone takes a step towards you? it's on. (you know that, "wear whatever you want, babe. i can fight." that's him atp)

reo, aiku, kaiser, bachira, karasu

the sun's bright overhead, not too blinding, with just the right amount of heat to tan. he sighs in content, the sand underneath his bum perfectly warm as you lather sunscreen on his back. a beautiful beach and a gorgeous girl running her hands down his back? this better be the view he sees at the pearly white gates of heaven.

the hand on his back is smooth and he groans when you gently massage the knots out of his neck. "keep doing that and i might just marry you sooner."

he hears you snort before anything else. there's no other reply and he relaxes once more, leaning his head onto your shoulder. he squints at the sun shining directly into his eyes.

"careful there, hotshot. you might get wrinkles. and i don't want to marry a wrinkly, 68-year-old looking guy."

something blocks the sun from his vision, and he has to blink multiple times, letting his eyes adapt to the change of scenery. he sees you grinning down at him, your face upside down, and the sun's halo shinning behind your head.

"hi, gorgeous." the smile on his face is nothing but awestruck, his eyes molding into the shape of hearts. "missed you and your beautiful face."

there's another snort from you and he yelps at the feeling of cold sunscreen hitting his face.

"me and my beautiful face have been behind you this whole time, loser. who knew you were such a simp."

the droplets on his face are cold but the warmth of your hand rubbing them into his skin makes it all better. his eyes gaze up at your face before trailing down your body, drinking in the sight of your bikini. "you should wear that more often. every day around the house often."

he yelps, scrunching his nose when you playfully bite it.

the touch of your hand on his body is soft and warm, a complete contrast from the rugged sand beneath you both and it has him shivering. "what? can't i compliment my favorite girl?"

he smiles when you plop down on his lap, laughing at the roll of your eyes.

"i'm your only girl," you say, body relaxing into his hold. "well, i better be."

he can only laugh in response, wrapping his hands around your waist and playing with the strap of your top. "i'm only yours, angel. i'm hurt that you'd even think otherwise."

there's a strong gust of wind, blowing sand everywhere as the trees sway in their place. he tightens his hold on you, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

when it subsides, he's quick to place his hand on your cheeks, softly looking into your eyes. "is my baby okay? need me to blow away the sand from your eyes?" his tone is sweet, playful. the pads of his fingers rub circles on your cheeks, and he leans in, placing his forehead against yours. "need me to kiss it better?"

the sound of a high-pitched whistle drowns out your sassy reply of just say you want a kiss and go. a rowdy pair of teenagers stand by the ocean's shoreline, grinning madly when his eyes land on them. their shouts of pretty lady you got there, wanna share? and stop being a hog, let us in on some fun, eh? falls on deaf ears as he looks down at you with a wink.

"no but they're right, eh? i've got such a pretty lady on my lap." his eyes are gentle and calm as the sea, they reflect the worry you feel inside. his hands ground you, picking you up easily to switch positions so that you're covered by his back, safe from prying eyes. "should we go back home for some more fun? what do you say, angel?"

he lays your head down against his chest, letting you hear the gentle thud of his heartbeat. "this beach is overrated anyway. it doesn't even have a lifeguard." he nudges your forehead with his nose, smiling cheekily. "honestly? never mind. that's a good thing because if i were a lifeguard, i'd give you mouth-to-mouth all day long."

his smile widens just a fraction when you giggle, happy to see that your eyes are starting to show their shine.

"you're awful at this," you giggle, pushing his shoulder playfully. "what kind of pickup line was that?"

"oh?" he pretends, widening his eyes as he points at the center of your forehead. you know it's all theatrics, but you fall for it either way. "what's this? do you have a sunburn?"

he trails his finger down your arm and onto your belly, stopping at your thigh when you look at him with confusion.

"what do you mean?" you ask, tilting your head with a small smile. "i put on sunscreen earlier."

he's quick to lean in, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "yeah, you're right. it was just your usual self being hot." the smile on his face widens into a grin when he hears you laugh, and it drives him to nuzzle his nose against your neck.

"there's my angel. or should i say sandcastle? because i want to build my dreams around you."

he leans back, trying to dodge your hand only to laugh as you both fall onto the sand. he looks at you, letting his hand trail down your cheek as you hover above him, matching grins on your faces.

"what was that for?" his laughs have trickled down into low chuckles. he lets himself fully immerse in the sand, propping a hand behind his head. "am i that irresistible, angel?"

"you're such-"

"oh? what's this?" the two boys from earlier watch you with crooked smiles and bad intentions clear in their eyes. they move forward, starting to close in. "should we join in-"

"back off." his eyes are dark, and his voice is low. there's a clear line of annoyance in his tone as he stands, pushing you behind him. his stance is intimidating, clearly protective with the glare set on his usually always smiling face. he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk appearing on his lips. "or i'll make you."

they back off at his threat, bowing their head to you as they leave.

he holds you in his hands, nuzzling his face into your hair as if he wasn't initiating a fight just a few seconds ago. "let's go, angel. i'll buy us some ice cream." he takes your hand, winking as he playfully taps your bottom.

𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘. he's the type of guy who will not realize someone's bothering you, honestly. if anyone asks why, it's because his eyes and entire being is fixated on you, and you only. why should he even care about some random ant on the street? it's just you and him, his baby, his world. nothing else matters in his eyes.

sae, rin, nagi, yukimiya, kunigami, isagi

"it isn't too crowded today." his words are blunt, a matter of fact that you can't help but giggle at. he eyes you, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips at the sound. "we should go in before it's too busy."

he takes your hand by your side, slipping it into his as you make your way into the cat cafe. he hums, scrunching his nose and withholding the need to sneeze as he lets you take everything in. the cafe is spacy, a big section for the cats to play in that's separate from the food corner.

he takes a seat near one of the scratching poles, leaning his back on the seat. his eyes are locked in on you, watching as you squat down to pet a cat on its head, chuckling when you startle as the cat jumps to one of the higher beams.

"you're so mean for laughing." he watches the syllables form on your lips, takes in the color and shape of your mouth. it's only when they form into a smirk that he moves his gaze back to your face. "you promised to play with the cats, remember?"

he only blinks up at you, similar to a cat himself, before sighing at your puppy eyes. nodding his head, he sets onto his feet to follow you deeper into the room, looking at the trail of cats that have begun to follow you both.

there's an empty bench that you lead him to and he sits dutifully, letting you plop a cat onto his lap. his motions are mechanical at best, he pats the cat's head, scratches under its ears, and stays away from its tail, the way you showed him how. anyone who's watching can clearly tell the cat isn't his main attention, it's you.

he feels the cat purr in hips lap and continues stroking it, but his eyes are never far from you. he sees you buying a packet of treats, watches as you squat down to feed the little white kitten by your feet, admires as every other cat suddenly comes swarming in. he chuckles to himself, so wholly focused he doesn't realize that someone's come to sit beside him.

"that's such a pretty kitty, mind if i take her home?"

he doesn't answer. not at first. he simply observes you, from the gracefulness of your movements to the sweetness of your smile. he only tears his eyes away to look at the stranger when he laughs.

"can i help you?" his tone is dull, clearly not wanting to be disturbed. he looks at the stranger for a few more seconds before turning back to you, the cat still peacefully asleep in his arms.

"not at all. i just wanted to know whether your cat's for sale."

he doesn't catch the underlying meaning of the stranger's words. you've got a beautiful persian with discolored eyes in your arms now, cooing the name Oscar at the thing. he tilts his head, wondering whether you'll do the same to him for taking you here today.

"i'd like to take her home. play with her until i'm bored, ya know?"

he watches from the corner of his eyes as the stranger leans back against the bench, a sickening smirk on his face. he realizes belatedly that the stranger's looking at you.

anger simmers in his eyes as he looks at the stranger with his coldest eyes, tone uninterested. "you wouldn't be able to take her. she's a feisty one, needs a man to take care of her. not some sleazy bastard."

he watches with boredom as the stranger clenches his fist. there's a hint of a smirk on his face as the stranger starts to stand up, clearly wanting to fight, only to step on cat vomit.

"oh no, oscar!" you gasp from behind the stranger, looking at the cat in your arms worriedly. "are you okay? you sick, baby?"

he watches in amusement as the stranger turns to leave the cafe, his face red. all the while, you remain blissfully unaware, concern swimming in your orbs as you cradle the cat closer to your chest.

"do you think we can adopt?" he sees the confusion on your face, chuckling at the little tilt of your head. he nods to the cat. "oscar's pretty cute. i like him."

he chuckles when you squeal, smiling happily as you place oscar down to pepper kisses on his face.

[helloalycia]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / two / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when Jackie gets into a fight with Eve, she stops talking to you before finally revealing a bombshell that changes your relationship forever.

warning/s: mentions of underage drinking and of cheating.

author's note: here is the long awaited part 4! glad to see this one got a bit more interest, it was a fun one to write. this particular part is longer than the others, but i couldn’t split it so yeah, enjoy :)

After that random encounter with Eve at the arcade, I never really expected her presence to affect Jackie and I again. Oh, how wrong I was.

Jeff and I were at school to watch another Yellowjackets game, coincidentally against Eve's team, the Lions. Of course, I didn't think much of it as I was only here to support the team and Jackie. Jeff was waiting in the bleachers for me whilst I went to grab something I'd forgotten from my locker since I was already at school. It was on the way out and back to the bleachers when Eve found me, giving me a playful smirk.

"Well, if it isn't Y/N Sadecki," she said, eyeing me.

"Eve," I acknowledged with a nod.

"You here to support your little girlfriend?"

Knowing she was talking about Jackie, I felt my cheeks grow warm and tried to remain indifferent. "Jackie's just a friend."

"You should tell her that," Eve suggested with a knowing look.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing she was trying to wind me up for whatever reason.

"It's unfortunate you have to watch me beat her," she said with a satisfied smile.

"You can try," I retorted, defending the Yellowjackets.

All Eve did was smirk before walking away to rejoin her team on the pitch. As I watched her go, I noticed Jackie in the distance, watching the two of us and glaring at Eve. The game was about to start so she couldn't do much, but I hoped she knew there was nothing happening between us. The last thing I wanted was for Jackie to think I liked her arch nemesis, especially after we almost kissed a year ago.

The referee blew his whistle, signalling for the players to get in position, so I returned to my seat beside Jeff as Jackie was forced to let it go for now.

"Popcorn?" Jeff asked when I took a seat.

I accepted it wordlessly, stuffing my face as I watched the game with anticipation.

The game started out pretty tense, with both sides getting close to scoring but eventually getting beat by each other's defenders. It was almost half time and everybody could sense a tension between Jackie and Eve, with the latter blocking every attempt Jackie made to score. She was following the blonde like a shadow, never giving her chance to breathe, and though that was expected, it was a little more extra than usual. Even from where I was sat, I could see Jackie getting frustrated by her presence.

Just before half time, Shauna was racing towards the goal, kicking the ball to Jackie. Everybody was on their feet as they watched her approach, ready to score, but out of nowhere, Eve performed a sliding tackle. Jackie hit the grass instantly, making everyone wince at how hard she landed on her knees.

The referee blew the whistle – possibly a yellow card? – and Jackie was sitting upright and fixing Eve with a glare. Then Eve must have said something to piss her off because before anyone could react, Jackie got up and shoved Eve backwards on the grass. She looked like she was about to go at her again, but Shauna intervened and held Jackie back as she yelled something at Eve. The referee was frantically blowing his whistle as a few more players broke up their almost-fight, and the crowd stared with surprise, wondering what was happening.

As Jackie was escorted off pitch by the referee, I could see Coach Scott scolding her, but she didn't seem to care. Very unlike her, she rolled her eyes and walked off.

"The hell was that?" Jeff muttered with confusion.

I shook my head. "I don't know... but I should see if she's okay." 

He nodded as I got up to leave, hoping Jackie was alright. Not only did that sliding tackle look painful, but clearly Eve had set her off, and Jackie wasn't easy to piss off.

I followed after her as she stormed inside the school, but she didn't get far when I called after her in the empty hallway.

"Jackie, are you okay? What was that?"

She didn't stop marching forward as she answered, "Leave me alone."

I furrowed my brows. "What? Jackie, I just–"

Suddenly, she stopped and turned around to glare at me. "I didn't ask for your help, now go."

Taken aback, I swallowed awkwardly. "I didn't–"

"Why the hell were you talking to her?" she interrupted, hazel eyes staring into my soul.

Feeling lost, I said, "What?"

She mimicked me, "What?" before scoffing angrily. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. Eve. Why were you talking to her?"

Unsure what this had to do with anything presently, I decided not to let her accusatory tone get to me. "She talked to me."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "How convenient."

Definitely lost, I asked, "You're mad at me? For that?" When she didn't answer, her jaw clenching, I said, "What did she say to you out there? Why are you upset?"

She shook her head, suppressing a frown. "Just leave me alone."

And with that, she stormed off towards the locker room, leaving me super confused and also super curious as to what Eve could have said to rile her up.

I hoped she'd calm down within a day or so and finally talk to me, but all weekend after the game, she'd been avoiding my calls. And if her mum picked up, she'd lie terribly saying Jackie wasn't there. I didn't understand why she was so pissed at me when Eve was the one who'd annoyed her. Could she really be angry at me for one conversation?

The only reason I finally got through to Jackie on the Sunday afternoon was because she picked up without meaning to.

"Jackie, wait, please!" I exclaimed, not wanting to lose her. "I don't want to fight. I just want to fix this."

To my surprise, she stayed on. "What?"

I swallowed hard. "You've been ignoring me. I... I know you're upset, but I just want to fix this."

I heard her sigh on the other side, but she said nothing.

"What did I do?" I asked in a pleading voice. "Tell me and I'll make it right." She fell silent and I sighed tiredly. "Okay, well, can you tell me what Eve said to upset you? You've never acted like that in a game before. You're supposed to be the team captain."

Just when I was convinced I was talking to myself, she finally spoke quietly. "She was saying how she was going to win the game." She paused, then reluctantly continued, "And you. Talking about how irresistible the Sadeckis were and how you were next on her list. That it was a shame she couldn't get to Jeff first."

My eyes widened slightly, not expecting that. 

Sighing, Jackie admitted, "It sounds stupid now I'm saying it aloud. I never cared what she thought, she's just some girl. But I... I saw her talking to you and I just– I thought–"

She didn't finish, and I tried not to hold my breath, not wanting to read into it.

"Jackie, that's nonsense," I assured her kindly. "She was just smack talking you to get to you and she succeeded in that. I wish you hadn't let her."

"I know," she agreed. A pause, and then: "I'm sorry for getting upset and yelling at you. I was just pissed."

"It's okay," I said, giving in. "Just..."

"No," she suddenly said, a little more confidently. "I wasn't pissed. I was jealous."

Eyebrows furrowing, I said, "What?"

Upset, she continued, "She doesn't get to do that! Everything I've ever wanted, Eve tries to take. Jeff. Winning states."

I wasn't sure what to say, sensing her frustration through the phone.

"You," she finished, making me second guess if I'd heard correctly. Judging by my silence, she added, "Yes, I want you."

Jaw dropping a little, I said, "What?"

"I don't want to do this over the phone," she said, exhaling deeply.

"Jackie–"

"I've gotta go," she said, and hung up before I could say anything else.

I couldn't move for a moment, reeling at what she'd just said. Did she just admit she liked me?

—

Jackie's words were on my mind for the rest of the weekend and well into Monday. I tried ringing her again, but there was no response so my only hope was to see her in school and talk it out there.

But at school, I didn't see her around like usual. At lunch time, I found Shauna eating, who redirected me to the library, and that was where I ended up finding her. She was tucked between some shelves, looking for a book, and I told myself it was now or never before approaching her.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," I said quietly, aware we were still in the library and also not wanting to startle her. Still, she jumped a little.

Recovering from her surprise, she remained focused on the bookshelf. "I was studying."

"You avoided my calls," I reminded her. "Dropped a bombshell then hung up."

She swallowed visibly, before glancing at me. "Sorry."

Her eyes didn't linger for long, and she was back to looking at the books.

"i just want an explanation, Jackie," I told her.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "There's not much to say."

Her feigned innocence was admittedly starting to frustrate me, and I frowned as she continued to avoid my gaze.

"What did you mean when you said you wanted me?" I asked outright, tired of beating around the bush.

She mumbled, "Nothing."

"Jackie," I pressed, impatiently.

"Really, nothing," she assured me with a quick glance.

"It wasn't nothing. Not to you. Or you wouldn't have hung up. Wouldn't have gotten so upset."

She pressed her lips together, sighing deeply, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt when I watched as she seemed to struggle with an internal conflict.

"Jackie–"

"Fine," she said suddenly, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "It was something."

I waited, heart sinking to my stomach the longer she took to speak.

"I want you," she finally admitted, turning to face me with a worried expression. "Because I fucking like you. And you make me happy. And I hate that I didn't see it sooner. But there it is."

It was as if someone was squeezing my insides, everything shrinking into nothingness as she said the impossible.

"But... but why is that a bad thing?" I asked softly.

She exhaled, shaking her head and looking away. "It's not. It's just... complicated."

I tried to meet her eyes. "Why? Because of Jeff?"

Saddened eyes finally met mine, accompanying a guilty nod. And it spurred me on for some reason, because the girl I liked actually liked me back, and how the hell was that possible?

"I don't really give a shit about what he would think," I said truthfully, surprising her. "What anyone would think."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

It was hard not to laugh as the realisation of my situation dawned on me. "I liked you way before he did, Jackie. I've had a crush on you for years. Why the hell would I let him get in the way of that now that I have a chance?"

The fact that she seemed genuinely taken aback by my admission made me wonder if I'd hid my crush well enough all these years, or if she was just terribly unobservant. Either way, she didn't know what to say as she tried to study my expression.

"I do have a chance now, right?" I asked with a shocking amount of confidence than I thought I was capable of.

As if the roles were reversed, she struggled for words. "I– yes, but–"

That was all the confirmation I needed when I stepped forward and kissed her, hoping to put her mind at ease. She relaxed against me, kissing me back slowly and carefully and in a way that made me forget anything other than her.

After a moment, I pulled away to speak, but she grabbed me by the shirt, tugging me back to her lips, and I didn't argue it. My arms wrapped around her waist, her back gently hitting the bookshelf behind her, and she didn't let go of my shirt as she held me in place, lips devouring mine.

My mind was spinning and my insides were humming with desire once we pulled apart for air, and I could still barely believe I'd just made out with Jackie Taylor.

"Now what?" I breathed out, eyes flickering between hers.

She caught her breath. "Well, I like you and you like me."

"Yeah..."

A ghost of a smile was on her lips as she let her head fall to my shoulder with feigned frustration. "Jeff is gonna be pissed."

I snorted with amusement, shaking my head. "He doesn't have to know. Not for now, at least."

She hummed in agreement, pulling her head back to look at me again, though this time truly looking at me. I grew nervous under her gaze, any confidence I had disappearing.

"Sorry, you were studying," I said lamely, though in my defence, I didn't expect to interrupt her by making out with her between the shelves.

She shrugged like it was a mere inconvenience before tugging me back to her lips, and of course, I couldn't resist Jackie Taylor's charm.

—

Sometimes I couldn't quite believe I was in a relationship with Jackie, albeit a secret one. But then she'd look at me in a way that only I knew meant more and I thanked my lucky stars she liked me back.

When we were in the presence of others, we'd act like we always did, though Jackie would sometimes leave lingering touches or stare at me for a little too long, and I always warned her not to make it so obvious but she seemed to take that as a challenge.

Not even Y/BF/N knew, and one time at school, she grew suspicious. Again, all Jackie's fault, but I'd like to think I denied it pretty well. I was at my locker talking to Y/BF/N about our Music class assignment when Jackie approached us with her usual smile.

"Hey," she said to us both.

"'Sup, Jackie," Y/BF/N greeted, returning her smile.

"Not much, just wanted to ask Y/N if she was still on for studying later," she said, glancing at me. Funnily enough, that wasn't code for anything – she was actually gonna help me study. But the way her hand rested on my forearm as she awaited an answer definitely earned a second glance from Y/BF/N.

I nodded, remembering I had her notes in my locker and grabbing them. "Yeah, that's fine. Can you take these? I'm just gonna forget otherwise."

She accepted the notes, finally letting go of my arm, stuffing them between her books in her hand. "Awesome. I'll catch you later then."

"See you later, Jackie," I replied, and her gaze definitely lingered a second longer than it should've, making my cheeks grow warm at the attention. I broke our stare and she chuckled before walking away, probably not even realising she'd done anything out of the ordinary.

I cleared my throat, about to resume my conversation with Y/BF/N, but she was glancing back at Jackie before quirking a brow at me.

"What?" I asked, closing my locker.

"The hell was that?"

I played dumb. "I don't know what you mean."

She looked at me with disbelief before tracing her hand up my arm exaggeratedly. With a high pitched voice, she mimicked Jackie, "Oh, Y/N, I do hope we're still on for studying later!"

I slapped her hand away, avoiding her eyes. "Oh, be quiet, that's not what happened."

She followed me as I attempted to walk away. "Isn't it? Girl, that was weird, even for Jackie." When I didn't reply, she asked, "Are you two together?"

I scoffed a little too quickly, glancing at her sideways. "You're kidding, right? She's Jackie Taylor."

Y/BF/N narrowed her eyes at me with suspicion. "You didn't say no."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Okay then, no, we're not. You done now?"

Thankfully she dropped the subject, but I was still a little nervous at being found out. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but telling her just meant it was one step closer to getting to Jeff. And Jackie and I were still new – there was less pressure this way.

—

"Lottie Matthews is loaded," Tommy said what everyone was thinking.

The band and I were stood outside Lottie's house, a party which she had invited us to and was paying us to perform at this evening, thanks to Jackie's recommendation.

"C'mon, they'll be waiting," Y/BF/N encouraged us all, snapping us out of our daze of admiration, before leading the way.

We brought our equipment inside, past the few guests that had arrived a little earlier than they were supposed to, and Lottie and Jackie were there to greet us.

"You all look great!" Jackie exclaimed with a smile once she spotted us, before her eyes landed on me and her smile softened into one that was only reserved for me. "Love the coordination."

I rolled my eyes playfully, though felt my cheeks flushing at the attention.

"Thanks again for having us, Lottie," Aaron thanked her for all of us. "Where d'you want us setting up?"

Lottie began to lead the way to the gigantic living room, the others dragging their equipment with them, and I was about to join them when I felt Jackie tugging me back.

"Hello to you too," I said with a stifled chuckle as she pulled me into her, almost knocking heads.

"You look really good," she said quietly, eyes looking me up and down.

"So do you," I returned, squeezing her hand in mine before glancing around then sneaking a quick kiss. "I should go help the band. But I'll see you around, Jackie."

She sighed childishly but nodded, letting me go, and I tried not to laugh as I followed after the others. I'd like to say that she was good at keeping us a secret for the rest of the party, but every encounter we had went pretty much like that.

As more people showed up, the party was in full swing within half an hour, and what a party it was. Lottie's house was practically a mansion, with a games room, cinema room, a huge pool in the garden and more than enough rooms for people to sneak into. Between sets, the band and I promised we'd stay sober, only here for the music (and Jackie), but that didn't mean we couldn't witness some hilarious stunts pulled by other kids stupid enough to drink their body weight in alcohol.

It was quite the affair, and it was made even better when I remembered how much Lottie was paying us to perform. Her parents were filthy rich, so what was probably pocket money to her was going straight into my savings for college.

After yet another exhilarating performance, I was waved over to Jackie who immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me to the empty spot by the dining table to talk. We perched ourselves on the edge of the table, hands a mere few inches away from one another, and it took every ounce of willpower for me to not touch her. I couldn't help it, she just looked so beautiful.

"You guys are playing so well tonight," she complimented sweetly, before tilting her head to look at me with a cheeky glint in her eyes. "You finally gonna tell me who that last song was about?"

I rolled my eyes playfully, remembering the last time she'd asked me that at the fair. Except this time, she was definitely playing dumb to embarrass me. "Something tells me you know, Jackie."

"Yeah, but I have to hear you say it," she continued to tease, finally resting her hand on top of mine.

I gave her a knowing look, smile creeping on my lips. "You know it's about you."

She feigned surprised, hand to her chest. "Really? I never would have guessed! Gosh, Y/N, I'm so touched!"

I shook my head with dismay as she laughed at her own joke. We stayed there for a little longer, her catching me up with some dumb stuff she'd witnessed tonight and also pestering me about a date she wanted me to take her on, and I loved every second of it. Because everybody was stuck in their own world, the closeness between Jackie and I wasn't even suspicious.

Unfortunately, that got interrupted when some guy approached us, drink in hand and definitely a little tipsy as he struggled to stand upright.

"Hey, ladies," he bellowed over the radio playing through the speakers.

Neither Jackie or I said anything as we waited for him to either speak or leave.

"You're the girl who plays the guitar, right?" he slurred his words a little, meeting my eyes. "I never thought I'd like a lady musician, but there's something about the way you–"

"I'm not interested," I told him firmly.

He blinked, not expecting that, before looking to Jackie and trying his luck once more. "How about you? You're a–"

"Don't even think about it," she told him with a judgemental stare.

He rolled his eyes at the rejection before downing the cup in his hand and walking away.

"Y'know, I love that people are finally seeing how hot you are an' all, but I also hate it," Jackie admitted with a half smile, glancing at me.

I breathed out, chuckling at her honesty. "It's a good thing I've got eyes for someone else, isn't it?"

She pressed her lips together, bright eyes flickering between mine distractedly, and then her expression softened. "I really wanna kiss you right now."

I nudged my shoulder with hers gently. "Later. I promise."

She pouted adorably, only making me want to kiss her, but I managed to hold back. And this didn't seem to sit right with her as she jumped off the edge of the table and spun around to face me, holding out her hand.

"What?" I asked, resting my hand in hers.

Once she closed her grasp on it, she dragged me through the bodies of guests before pulling me into a room that I'd never been in before. It looked like some sort of pantry in the kitchen, well-stocked, I couldn't lie. But I barely got chance to ask her what she was doing before she pressed her lips to mine, kissing me hard.

All night I'd wanted to kiss her. but clearly she'd wanted it just as much as she pulled me close, barely letting me breathe as we made out between the dried pasta and sweetcorn cans. The party was merely a distant memory as I tuned out the chatter of the guests and the beat of the speakers, instead succumbing to the taste of Jackie's lips and the scent of her perfume.

We were breathless when we finally pulled apart, her hands encasing my face between them, my breath tickling her lips.

"You really couldn't wait, could you?" I spoke, a hint of amusement in my voice.

She scoffed lightheartedly, shoving me back. "Shut up."

I laughed quietly. "Bit desperate, isn't it? For Jackie Taylor?"

She quirked a brow, finger fixing her smudged lip gloss. "Really? Says the one who wrote a million songs about me?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Touché."

She smirked, before fixing her hair too. "I'm gonna go. You should too if you wanna make your next set."

"Yeah, yeah..."

She winked before leaving me alone in the pantry, and I made sure my own lipstick was fixed before heading out.

The party went on until pretty late into the night, and it was after midnight when Lottie and Jackie began kicking stragglers out. The band called it a night, but I felt bad leaving Lottie and her friends to clean up alone, so I stayed back to help out. By the time we were done, I offered to give Jackie a ride home, mostly because I just wanted to make sure she got back safely.

"Your mum knows you're with me, right?" she asked from the passenger's seat as I was driving.

"Yep," I said between a yawn. "You think she would've trusted me out this late alone?"

Jackie let out a tired chuckle, leaning against the door. "Yeah, she loves me."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Whatever."

"Sleepover at mine," she insisted. "It's already late. I don't want you driving back alone. You might as well."

I glanced at her. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "You're overdue cuddles anyway. It's only fair."

This brought a smile to my face. "It's only fair. Uh-huh."

Even tired, she was adorable, and I couldn't say no. Plus, I was exhausted and it was the weekend, so what was the harm?

Once I arrived at Jackie's, we headed straight to her room and collapsed in her bed together, tired but content as we wrapped ourselves up in one another. The perfect end to a perfect night.

—

I changed the notes on my music sheet, giving my composition another go on the piano. It sounded a lot better now, but I still wasn't happy with it. I was working on my assignment for Music class, having booked out the classroom and piano for today's lunch to hopefully get some inspiration away from my bedroom. It was working, kind of.

As I chewed my lip, tapping the same key over and over thoughtfully, I heard footsteps behind me and glanced over my shoulder.

"Jackie," I said, surprised but smiling at her presence.

"So this is why you ditched me," she said jokingly, before standing by my side and resting a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm working on my assignment," I reminded her with a knowing look.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, a ghost of a smile on her lips before she nudged me over and took a seat on the piano bench beside me.

She began to press some random keys with her finger, making me stifle a laugh.

"Like Beethoven himself," I teased, and she shoved me in the shoulder without looking up.

"You're shit at soccer, so zip it," she reminded me, making me groan.

"You're never letting me live that down, are you?"

Finally, she glanced at me with a quirked brow and an amused glint in her eyes. "What part? The bloody nose? The missing the goal a billion times? Or the breathlessness after running only one lap around the field?"

I pressed my lips together, narrowing my eyes her way. "I hate you."

She laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to my cheek before returning her attention to the piano. "Yeah, no you don't. Now, teach me how to play something."

I sighed, knowing she wouldn't leave me be if I didn't, so I taught her a few chords, enough to satisfy her urge to be skilled in something she really wasn't. Okay, a little mean, she actually wasn't terrible. But she was impatient and very easily distracted, and I was running short on time.

"Okay, Jackie, I actually need to do my work now," I said apologetically.

She sighed dramatically, giving me a doe-eyed look. "Fiiiiine, if you must."

"If you really wanna learn, I can teach you properly another time," I promised her, tilting my head towards her, mimicking her expression.

"Nah, I just wanted to spend some time with you, but I can see I'm not wanted nor loved," she said, keeping up with her dramatics as she stood up.

"Jackie." I laughed as she lingered, slowly approaching the door.

"Until next time, I suppose," she continued, and I rolled my eyes at her theatrics as she left the classroom.

God, she could be annoying sometimes.

—

It had been a few months since Jackie and I had started dating and I guess I was so enthralled with her that I never really considered how everybody else perceived us, particularly my brother.

I was certain we'd done a good job at keeping us a secret, but then Jeff was becoming suspicious, and I knew we couldn't keep it hidden for much longer.

Using our usual cover story of 'studying', Jackie was over at mine to hang out, though this time staying for dinner at my mum's insistence. Shauna was also over, since she was Jeff's girlfriend an' all, and it didn't make much of a difference since we were all friends, but then dinner actually happened and I felt stupid for thinking it would go smoothly.

"Y'know, I love how close of friends you and Y/N have become," my mum was saying to Jackie as she passed her the garlic bread. "Always inviting her over to yours."

"Just tutoring her for French class," Jackie answered smoothly. "Happy to do it."

"You're terrible at French," Shauna commented with furrowed brows, and Jackie almost faltered as she thought of a response.

"But better than I am," I filled in with an awkward laugh.

Jeff quirked a brow. "And your grade is improving with all this tutoring?"

I met his gaze, sensing his suspicion. "B average."

He hummed, glancing between Jackie and I curiously.

"You should invite Jackie here more," my mum said to me, thankfully interrupting whatever Jeff thought he was piecing together. "I don't want her family thinking we're not a good host." 

"Oh, they would never think that," Jackie replied with a laugh. "They love you."

My mum flashed her a grateful smile, eating out of the palm of her hand. I believed we'd gotten away with it, plus I now had more reason to invite her over. But when I looked back opposite me, I saw Jeff and Shauna studying the two of us curiously and I was never good under pressure. I focused on my dinner as my mum rambled on about something or the other, but the couple before me were watching me the whole evening.

Once the meal was over, Jeff went to drop Shauna home as I did the same with Jackie, though I was a little more distracted than she was.

"I love your mum, she's so cute," she was saying as I drove. "And you heard her, right? Gotta stop by more. Her words."

"Yeah, I think you're actually gonna have to start tutoring me French now," I realised.

She pulled a face. "What? Why? I suck at French."

I gave her a sideways glance. "Did you really not see Jeff and Shauna? They don't think we're studying, Jackie."

As if remembering, Jackie snorted. "Yeah, but who cares what they think? There's no proof otherwise."

I sighed. "I know, but I also know my brother. He's gonna be all over us. So, you're gonna have to start tutoring me French when you come over."

She chuckled quietly at this, unbothered. "Oui oui, Monsieur Y/N."

I tried not to laugh. "It's Madame. Monsieur is for guys."

Pursing her lips, she glanced at me. "Fuck."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "God, you're lucky I'm good at French."

—

Asking Jackie to actually tutor me for French class was easier said than done. Turned out she really did suck at French. I ended up teaching her more than she could teach me a lot of the times, and then there was the issue of how she kept getting distracted by random things because the last thing she wanted to do was homework.

The few times that Jeff 'accidentally' walked in my room, we were actually studying, which only reaffirmed my suspicion that he suspected something more between Jackie and I. After the first few weeks, he stopped checking on us, so I assumed he stopped caring. And I may or may not have let my guard down just a little...

"Okay, I just need to recite this to you," I told Jackie, sat cross legged on my bed, opposite her. "Follow along on the paper and tell me if I miss something."

She hummed, glancing at the paper before looking back to me. I could see she wasn't focused and gave her a knowing look.

"Please, Jackie, my test is next week."

She laughed. "Y/N, you know this paper front to back."

I didn't let up. "Jackie."

She sighed dramatically before straightening up and looking at the paper. "Okay. Go."

I nodded and cleared my throat, before reciting the paper in French. It was a speaking exam, and though I wasn't too worried, it didn't hurt to practice. Of course, as I was speaking, I realised Jackie was only looking at me, eyes on mine, and definitely not the paper in her hand.

"...Jackie!" I scolded her, making her blink. "How do you know I'm saying it right, huh? You're not even reading it!"

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh again, then tilted her head towards me. "I'm sorry. I can't help getting distracted. You're so hot when you're focused."

I sighed, though my cheeks were growing warm. "Jackie. Not the time."

"Well, if now's not the time...," she started teasingly, leaning forward on her hands so she was directly in front of my face. Her eyes flickered between mine flirtatiously as she continued, "Then when is?"

I tried to hold my ground, refusing to let her win just because she was stupidly cute and stupidly kissable right now.

"Y'know what I just realised?" she asked rhetorically, hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "Teasing you is pointless. One kiss and you're mine."

"Jackie–"

She silenced me by doing just that, pressing her strawberry-flavoured lips to mine, courtesy of her favourite lipgloss. Unfortunately she was right, and as soon as she kissed me, I melted under her touch, eyes fluttering close. Her hand rested on my neck as she tilted my head up, having the perfect gap to push her tongue into my mouth.

As we made out, studying long forgotten, my senses were overtaken by all things Jackie, so much that I didn't hear anybody come in my bedroom until said person cursed out loud.

Immediately pulling apart from Jackie, I looked to the door to see Jeff standing there with a shocked expression.

"I knew you weren't studying!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at us. Then it seemed to dawn on him what we were doing instead, and he glared at Jackie. "Seriously?!" With a lower voice, he whisper-shouted, "You're sucking face with my sister?!"

Embarassed, I scolded him. "Jeff!"

"In case you forgot, you cheated on me with my best friend," Jackie retorted, standing up to face him.

"So you make out with my sister?!" he repeated, hysterical.

Jackie scoffed. "You don't get to be mad right now! You literally–"

"That doesn't give you the right to–"

"–and you cheated on me for fucking months–"

"–my little sister isn't your–"

I sat there awkwardly as they bickered over the stupidest things, still flushed with embarrassment.

The sound of my mum calling all of our names, followed by the promise of lunch, silenced Jackie and Jeff long enough for me to stand up off the bed, subtly wiping Jackie's lipgloss from my mouth.

"This... this isn't over," Jeff said, looking between us, before storming out of my room and downstairs.

Jackie clenched her jaw before glancing at me, expression softening. "You okay?"

"Yeah... I think. You?"

She nodded. "Let's go eat."

The two of us trailed in after Jeff, taking a seat beside each other at the dining table where my parents were waiting already. Thankfully, Jackie was still her easygoing, talkative self and made conversation with my parents as we ate. Jeff and I were quiet, occasionally glancing at one another before looking the other way if we accidentally caught each other's gaze. I still couldn't believe he'd caught me making out with Jackie. This wasn't how I wanted to tell him about us.

"...Y/N, Jeff, you two are oddly quiet today," my dad noticed, making everyone look to us.

When Jeff didn't speak, I answered, "I'm just a little tired. Lots of studying."

Jeff choked on his water and I instantly regretted my choice of words. Jackie looked between us before changing the subject with my parents, saving the moment. Thankfully, they didn't try to talk to me again, and Jeff still didn't have much to say.

After a horribly awkward lunch, I left to drop Jackie off home, glad when we were finally away from Jeff's judgy eyes.

"So... you think he'll get over it?" Jackie asked me in the car.

"Probably," I answered. "Eventually."

She nodded slowly, glancing at my house as we drove away, before saying, "Sorry if it's awkward between you both now. It wasn't my intention."

I sighed, a small smile on my face when I glanced at her. "It's okay, Jackie, it's not your fault. Besides. You're kind of worth it, so."

"Oh, really?" she asked, quirking a brow playfully.

"Just a little," I played along, and she laughed.

"That's good to know, yeah," she said, before squeezing my knee gently.

—

I wanted to talk things through with Jeff as soon as possible, but when I returned home after dropping Jackie off, he was in his room and I figured it was best to give him some space. The next morning, he was already out the house when I went downstairs for breakfast, so my only hope was to find him at school.

I wasn't sure if he was actually annoyed at me or not, since he hadn't spoken to me since yesterday and I didn't really see him around much. I put it down to needing some space again, giving him the benefit of the doubt considering he saw his little sister and ex-girlfriend making out.

After school however, I was surprised to find him waiting for me by my car in the lot. He didn't look annoyed or upset, which was a good sign, but I was also planning to wait for Jackie just now, so I hoped this wouldn't go down badly.

"Hey, Jeff," I greeted as I approached him, a little confused.

"So, I've thought about it," he said instantly, hand clutching the strap of his backpack as he paced a little.

"Uh-huh..."

"I just needed to process it all," he continued, stopping his pacing but struggling to stand still.

"Right," I acknowledged, patiently waiting for him to finish.

"You don't need my permission, obviously," he disclaimed quickly, before saying, "but I'm okay with it. You and– you and Jackie."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised at his reaction, or at least witnessing it so soon.

"It was just strange," he admitted, finally relaxing once he'd gotten his words out. "My ex moving on with my sister."

I couldn't resist reminding him, "You literally moved on with her best friend."

He winced slightly, but nodded. "Right."

I chewed the inside of my cheek as we stood there, neither of us saying anything.

"Okay then...," I started, once I realised he was done. "So, we're cool?"

"We're cool," he agreed, before reluctantly asking, "Out of curiosity though... how long? Y'know, you and Jackie?"

"A month? Maybe a little longer?" I answered truthfully.

He nodded, letting that digest, then said, "You seem to get along well. I'm happy for you, Y/N."

I began to smile, despite his awkwardness. "We do."

He smiled too, albeit a little uncomfortably, and mine soon turned into one of amusement.

"Hey," Jackie finally arrived, looking between Jeff and I, though unsure how to react as she was as surprised as I was upon seeing him.

"He's okay with it," I told her, making her eyes widen slightly, taken aback.

"Oh."

"I'm happy for you both," Jeff added, nodding at Jackie.

She recovered from her temporary stupor quite quickly and began to flash Jeff a mildly condescending smile. "Well, that's very mature of you, Jeff. Thanks."

He seemed a little embarrassed, but nodded before glancing at me. "Catch you later, Y/N."

"See you later," I confirmed, watching as he left us to it.

Only when he was out of hearing distance did I look back to Jackie, who was stifling her urge to laugh.

"I guess that's that then," she said what we were both thinking.

"It is," I confirmed with a hidden smile.

Her green-golden eyes met mine with a hint of mischief. "That means there's no need to hide this anymore, right?"

Realising she was right, I nodded. "Guess not."

A grin appeared on her lips, but before I could question it, she yanked me forward by my jacket, pressing her lips to mine in a brief yet passionate kiss that had me floating and forgetting what my name was.

She flashed me another smile before getting into the car, and I was left speechless, before a grin appeared on my own lips. No more hiding anymore.

[ghcstao3]

It’s just one of those unspoken things of life, John thinks. At least—for those it pertains to.

A sort of… smoker’s pact. Bumming cigarettes and sharing a light. The mutual understanding and the wordless agreement of the familiar transaction. And while the habit isn’t at all preferable—the whole act, John thinks, is sort of wonderful.

It’s how he meets Simon.

John’s move to a new city hasn’t treated him too kindly so far. He’d had to stay in a hotel for two weeks because of an infestation in his flat, his new job screwed up his paperwork so he doesn’t get to start for almost another month yet, and, worst of all: he knows no one here. He has a cat for company, sure, but she can only do so much for conversation.

John doesn’t smoke often, but tonight is one of those times where he thinks he’s earned it.

Except now, as he pulls out his near-empty pack after climbing to the building’s roof, he realizes he has nothing to light the cigarette with. He curses.

Great.

Frustrated, he shoves one between his lips anyway, crumpling the pack in his jacket pocket as the wind blows past. At least the view is decent enough.

“Need a light?” Someone asks.

John nearly jumps out of his skin, thankful he hadn’t been standing anywhere close to the roof’s edge. He hadn’t heard nor seen anyone, and maybe he could attribute that to the dark and the whistling breeze—but turning to face his company, it’s a wonder he didn’t notice.

The man is, well. Large. Even wearing black to blend in with the hour, and even with his posture slightly hunched to perhaps meet John’s height or attempt to preserve warmth, John can tell his shoulders are broad. John can tell he’s stupidly tall if only he straightened his spine just a little.

“If you don’t mind,” John says, the slightest bit breathless.

John watches sort of mesmerized, as a flame burns the tip of his smoke. The man follows up with his own cigarette, then tucks his lighter into his hoodie pocket.

It must be instinctual, the way the man turns his head to the side to exhale once he’s taken a drag.

“I’ve never seen you up here before,” the man remarks.

John shrugs. He takes his own drag, then blows the smoke to his right. “I only recently moved here.”

The man hums. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be glad to know I’m about the only other one who comes up here. Easier to hide your naughty habit.”

John barks out a laugh. “Bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?”

The corners of the man’s lips curl upward. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

John wouldn’t learn Simon’s name for another month and a half after that, but he doesn’t think it would ever matter. Not when they have their unspoken thing.

Maybe this new city wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

[nocturne-pisces]

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

[atinylittlepain]

Born in the USA - Part One of Hungry Hearts

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, eventual smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

a/n | hellooooo, folks, and welcome to the first installation of my Hungry Hearts series! i'm so stoked to share this one with y'all, as always let me know what you think!

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

The radio DJ called for record-breaking heat simmering the streets of Austin this week, and he certainly delivered. Too hot to think, too hot work, too hot to do much of anything until the sun starts to melt down in the late afternoons. She swears that she can feel the rubber soles of her sneakers sticking to the sidewalk with each step, the heat pressing humid hands to the back of her neck, sweat pooling in all the soft dips of her body. And it’s not like she wants to be out here in the first place. In fact, she would much rather be sitting in front of the box fan in her room right now, calculating how many days, hours, and minutes until she’ll be leaving again for school. It can’t come soon enough.

Nothing much has changed around her neighborhood since she was home in December for her holiday break. Same houses with the sleepy looking windows and basketball hoops in the driveways, same families with the nosey wives and oblivious husbands, same kids getting older and taller and more socially awkward. And the same empty lot at the end of the cul-de-sac that had been turned into patchy baseball field when she was in the first grade.

“Outfield, bring it in a little for this next one!”

“Fuck you, Miller! You’re gonna be eating those words!”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, kid. Show us what you got, why don’t you?” And that’s the same too, unfortunately.

“That’s a strike, wouldn’t you say, Tommy?”

“Sure looked like a strike to me, Joel.” All a bit juvenile, though she would expect nothing less from the Miller brothers. They’re in fine form this afternoon, she thinks, and it seems that all the other girls home from college think the same thing as well, hanging off the chain-link fence and tittering to each other about every ball Joel fields or every fifteen-year-old Tommy stamps out on first. Joel’s idea, no doubt, his eighteen-year-old brother always too happy to hang onto his shirttails and terrorize the pubescent neighborhood kids.

And for his part, Joel seems to know he’s garnered a small audience, just a touch too much flare when the teams switch out and he steps up to bat. He’s dressed in an obscenely short pair of cut-offs, frayed hems grazing along the tan, corded muscles of his thighs. Hi-tops and tube socks, and what once could have been called a shirt, now cropped and unbuttoned so it doesn’t do much but blow in the breeze and expose the lean tautness of his torso. Stance wide, leaning down low in his hips, he winds up the bat right behind his head and lets it rip entirely too hard on the lob he was pitched by that poor fifteen-year-old, sending the ball soaring right over the fence. She has to scoff when the girls she’s standing next to actually clap for him while he drinks it up as he takes a leisurely jog around the plates before jumping down on home with both his feet. And yeah, she thinks, not much has changed, at all.

“Will! Mom wants you home for dinner, let’s go!” Her baby brother, who has decided he is definitely not a baby anymore, does not like her shouting at him one bit, entirely ignoring her with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head from where he’s standing covering first base. Someone else, however, is more than happy to take notice of her.

“Is that? Oh shit! Cherry!” Long and drawn out, Cherryyyyyyyy, with a low whistle at the end. She hasn’t been called that since the last time she saw him, which was last summer in about this same position. Though if there’s one thing she’s gotten good at, it’s ignoring Joel Miller.

“Will, let’s go please!”

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! Why don’t you come over here and show these kids how it’s done? From what I remember you always had a mean little swing.” That gets most of the kids on the field laughing as Joel and Tommy snicker to each other in the makeshift dug out, more of a dirt ditch with a sheet of metal over top of it than anything else.

“Will, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Now.” Maybe she looks like a bitch stomping out onto the field to grab her brother by the arm. She doesn’t care. She’s hot and has sweat dripping in places that sweat should never drip and is coming dangerously close to throttling Joel in front of his little fan club if he doesn’t shut his smug mouth real soon. 

“Stop, you’re embarrassing me.” Will doesn’t budge from first when she hooks her hand around his bicep, brooding at her from beneath his bowl cut.

“Do you think I want to be taking you home? Just do me a favor and stop trying to act all tough in front of your little friends so I can go home and get mom off my ass.” 

“Hey, Cherry, he’s already got one mom. He doesn’t need you nagging him too!” Joel’s dig drums up another round of laughs from the whole field, and suddenly she’s reconsidering that whole throttling thing. Fine, she thinks, she can do nagging, just wait and see how good she can do nagging. She shifts her tactic, grabbing her brother by the back of his neck instead and starting to haul him along beside her, not giving him time to do anything but trip over his feet in a stilted shuffle to keep up. And of course, it is at that moment that Joel gets the whole crowd of kids started in a chorus of boos. 

“Damn, Cherry, when did you become such a tight-ass?” Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the girls still standing along the fence shooting her daggers, maybe it’s just a little bit of all of it that makes her stop dead in her tracks when Joel says that. But before she really knows what she’s doing, she has let go of her brother to march right over to home plate. Seeming a bit surprised that she did, Joel scrambles out of the dug out still too smug for her taste when he comes chest to chest with her. 

“Well are you going to give me a bat or what?” His smirk slips into a full grin at that, and for a moment she remembers how pretty she always thought he was. Strong jaw, dark eyes, and that shock of thick, brown hair of his. Such a shame that he’s an enormous tool, really. 

“I tell you what, Cherry, what time does your mom want Will home every night?” She knows that look he has in his eyes, all squinted up with his mouth screwed to one side. Always a sucker for a challenge, and she’s all too happy to play along.

“Seven o’clock, why?” He leans in a little closer, ducking his head down like he has the most delicious secret to tell her. She can see the sweat beading and pooling in the hollow of his throat he’s so close.

“Seven o’clock, alright, Cherry. If you can hit a homerun, I will personally see to it that Will is home at seven o’clock on the dot every night for the rest of the summer. How’s that sound?” She tilts her head, hands on her hips like she’s giving it a good think before finally answering him.

“Does he really hang out with you every night?” Joel snorts, his smile going slanted at her.

“Well, someone’s got to keep the kid entertained since you got all boring, miss college.”

“Fine, give me a bat.” That gets her a big grin from him as he backpedals to the dug out to grab a bat for her.

“Let’s switch out who’s fielding. I wanna be on short stop for this hit.” Of course he does. But she thinks to herself that that’s just fine, she’s going to give him a hit to remember. 

Tommy was always the nicer of the pair, and as he walks out of the dugout to cover first, he offers her a smile and a shrug as if to apologize for his brother’s dramatics. She always liked Tommy better, even as kids.

She hasn’t done this in a long time. Not since before puberty, probably. She used to play every summer with the Millers and all the other neighborhood kids in this exact lot, and it starts to come back to her as she toes the rubber of her sneakers against home plate. Her palms twist up on the bat, hips shimmying down and back a little to get into the stance, trying her best to focus on the pitcher and not the drawling heckling going on between second and third. He’s doing a warbling rendition of that old Four Seasons song, and she’s pretty sure that the name in the lyrics is Sherry, not Cherry. But he has made it fit with his own demented drone, crooning as he sways a little side to side.

Cherryyyyy, Cherry, baby, Cherryyyyy, can you come out tonight

Youuuuu better ask your mama, Cherry baby

Deep breath in, deep breath out, she has her eyes focused on the ball leaving the soft cradle of the pitcher’s fingers. Like riding a bike, really, the quick swing in her hips and the satisfying crack of the ball hitting the middle of her bat, and, oh. Oh. 

“Motherfucker!” It’s not like she meant to, but it’s also not like she’s mad that she did. It was a nice hit, strong and straight, right between second and third. And, well, straight into Joel’s groin. 

“What are you doing? Get up, man!” Tommy is all but shrieking at his brother. Joel, however, is still crumpled on the ground and groaning, his hands clenched between his thighs from what she can tell with her quick glances as she jogs from first to second. But she quickly realizes that it’s not just his hands clutched between his legs, but the ball too. And, well, it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting up anytime soon to field that one. 

“If you could have him home more around ten till that’d be great, thanks.” If he hears her talking over his curled up body, he makes no show of it, still groaning and writhing around in the dirt with his eyes scrunched shut. She steps over him and continues a much more leisurely pace through third and home. 

“Will, let’s go.” Her brother, slack-jawed with his eyes practically popping out of his head, finally listens to her, falling into step alongside her as she can’t help a smirk sliding over her lips. She has to roll her eyes when several of the girls rush out onto the field to fawn over Joel who still seems to be incapacitated and on his knees. 

“I can’t believe you just did that.” She tries not to laugh at Will’s exclamation, bumping his shoulder with her own as they start to head home.

“He’ll live.”

…

Sure, he’s always had a competitive streak, he’s not about to deny that. But that competitive streak may, emphasis on may, have gotten a little out of hand now that it’s his baby girl that’s in the competition and not him. Sarah has a talk with him before every game about it. About not yelling at the umpire, about not constantly asking her if she’s staying hydrated in the dugout, and, what she calls the most important point, about not trying to heckle the other team. And everytime, Joel promises her that, yes, he’s going to keep his cool and stay on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. And he tries, he really does. But, well, try is the operative word.

“Alright, babygirl, just like we practiced. Keep your eye on the ball and let your hips lead.” It’s the middle of June, the sun bright and beating down hard on the local ball fields where Joel spends most of his weekends cheering Sarah on in her softball matches. He is not sitting on the bleachers like every other normal and sane parent. He is hovering at the side of the dug-out with his head stuck out just enough that the umpire won’t yell at him to get back while he coaches Sarah on her swing. Sarah, however, does not seem particularly grateful for his pointers, glaring at him from beneath her helmet as she steps up to the plate.

“Strike!” Swing and a miss. Joel has to remind himself that no, it is not appropriate to swear at a little league softball game, settling instead for a quick clap of his hands.

“That’s alright, baby, that’s alright. Shake it off, baby, focus.” 

“Dad, please.” She says it with a dejected tap of her bat against the plate, the universal sign for back off, now. And sure, he thinks, he can back off, a few feet back toward the bleachers so his girl can focus on her swing, sure. 

“Strike two!” 

“Goddamnit.” He says it quietly enough that he’s pretty sure no one else hears it before stepping back closer to the plate, because obviously Sarah needs a little help here.

“C’mon, baby, you got this. Shake it off. Don’t choke up on the bat like that, baby, nice and easy.” 

“Strike three, you’re–”

“Hey, that wasn’t a strike!” Sarah is going to be so mad at him on the drive home, but he’s too busy stepping over to the umpire to yell at him to be worried about that right now. 

“Sir, please go sit down on the bleachers.”

“That pitch was way to the right, I saw it, that wasn’t a strike.” 

“Dad, it’s fine, I’m out. Just go sit down, please.” Sarah has already taken her helmet off, nudging her bat into the toe of his boot like, hello, you’re embarrassing me here. But Joel knows what he saw, and what he saw was a way to the right pitch that most certainly was not a strike. 

“Baby, you are not out, okay? Put your helmet back on.” 

“Sir, your daughter is out, now please go sit–”

“Just give her one more shot, man. C’mon.”

“Hey! Three strikes and you’re out, buddy.” It’s a woman’s voice, coming from somewhere behind him, a parent from the other team most likely, though he doesn’t turn around to see who it is, still staring down the umpire.

“That wasn’t a strike!” He tosses the exclamation over his shoulder, but the woman doesn’t seem ready to back down either.

“Are you saying my daughter doesn’t know how to pitch?” Alright, lady, if you want in on the action, be his guest. He turns around slowly, ready to deliver some sort of clever reply that he hasn’t quite worked out in his mind when–

“Oh shit. Cherry?”

“Wow, I haven’t been called that in nearly two decades.” So it is her. And of course it’s her. He’d recognize her anywhere, even seventeen years later. Still that little jut of her hip when she’s pissed, still that little crook of her chin like a challenge, even seventeen years later.

“So you’re still a competitive bastard then?” Yeah, and still that too, seventeen years later.

“I– you– that wasn’t a strike.”

“Oh, yes it was.”

“It was not.”

“My daughter doesn’t pitch balls on two strikes, okay? That was a strike.” With that, she leans to the side to talk to Sarah standing behind him.

“My condolences to you for having to deal with him, kid.”

“Thanks, you’re catching him on a good day, actually.”

“Hey.” He whips around to scold Sarah, but she’s still focused on Cherry.

“How do you know my dad?”

“Oh, me and him go way back. Don’t we, Joel?” He finds himself opening and closing his mouth a few times, looking between Sarah and a woman he thought he would never see again, though before he can get a reply out, the umpire mercifully cuts off their little reunion.

“Folks, there is still an active game going on here. Sir, your daughter is out, so if you could all please get off of home plate so we can keep this game going that’d be great.” Sarah has to tug him back to her team’s dugout, promptly pushing him over and onto the bleachers while he continues to stare at Cherry like she might disappear. She has walked back to the bleachers for her daughter’s team, though she stands on the sideline with her hands on her hips now. 

“You’re all good, Els. Just keep them coming, babe.” His attention draws over to the pitcher to whom Cherry is talking to because, right, she’s Cherry’s daughter. Cherry has a daughter, holy shit. Well, so does he. He has to laugh to himself, a little shake to his head.

A lot can certainly happen in seventeen years.

…

The thing that she hadn’t considered in agreeing to Joel Miller’s little deal was that it would still mean seeing a good amount of Joel Miller. Seven o’clock every night to be exact. Actually, ten till, so he did listen, at least. And of course he’s all smiles and charm, and of course her mother invites him in for dinner every night, and of course he says yes, and of course she has to sit across from him, kicking away his foot every time it encroaches on her space.

“So, Joel, are you still over at Thatcher’s full time?” She tries not to scoff at her mother’s question, the subtle turn of her nose and the slight tinge of judgment quirking up the end of her words. Her mother and her penchant for pedigree, something that the Miller family definitively does not have. If it bothers him, however, Joel doesn’t show it, smiling and thumbing the corner of his mouth as he finishes chewing.

“Yes, ma’am, seven days a week.”

“And does that pay well, son?” Ah yes, the one-two tag team of her mother and father both jumping in now, her father doing that thing where he pretends not to know, his eyebrows falling in mock curiosity. When, really, she’s nearly certain he has already calculated in his head exactly how much Joel makes in a week, month, and year busting his ass in that mechanic shop.

“Well, sir, I’ve got no complaints. Roof over my head and food on my table. And, uh, the tips are pretty good.” That one flies right over both her parents’ heads, but he says it looking directly at her, his eyes crinkling up with a smile that only tugs one corner of his mouth, sleaze and smarm. She is well aware of the tips he pulls in from all the bored little housewives and their daughters, something that always seems to be the topic of conversation on the loungers at the community pool. 

If he’s trying to get a rise out of her right now, she’s going to make sure he fails at it, giving him a tight-lipped smile and kicking his shin hard under the table where his foot has started to nudge against hers again. Joel lets out a hard cough, the table shaking a bit when his knee jumps up in reaction.

“Alright, son?”

“Yessir, I think all this heat is finally getting to me is all. I better head on home, but thank y’all for the meal, it’s very kind of you.” Her mother frets and fusses over him, insisting he take a tupperware of meatloaf and salad home and telling him to bring Tommy along next time. Great, she thinks, frick and frack both coming for dinner will be double the fun. Though she’s quickly distracted from that thought when her father lets out a long sigh from the head of the table. 

“Such a shame that young man is working like that. It’s a waste of potential, honestly.” 

“Oh, honey, don’t.”

“I’m serious, Carol. He was always a smart kid, probably could have gone to college, but instead he’s working in that car shop with seemingly no drive for anything more for himself. I just can’t believe Deedee and Hank are letting him carry on like that.” She knows this spiel well. Next her father will angle his chair toward Will and level his finger at him and–

“Will, you know what I was doing when I was Joel’s age?” Will huffs and rolls his eyes, slumping back in his chair like this is the hundredth time he has heard this, probably because it is.

“Getting ready for law school, dad.”

“I was getting ready for– yes, son, that’s right. And now look at me. Beautiful home, beautiful family, and a good job. Do you know what Joel Miller is going to have to show for himself at my age if he keeps going the way he is now?” 

“A whole lot of nothing, dad.”

“A whole lot of– yes, son, that’s right. At this rate, he’s probably still going to be living in that shoebox apartment above Thatcher’s when he’s forty.” 

“Can I be excused please?” She tries to hold back the contempt snapping through her words, already getting out of her seat before her mother can ask her what’s wrong. For as much as Joel Miller gets on her nerves, she hates this more, this faux pity her father so easily slips into, turning him into a lesson. And not a very good one at that, because while Joel may not be in college or raking in money, he at least seems happy, and she thinks that’s more than her father can say. She knows it’s more than she can say, staring up at the ceiling in her bedroom, this time trying to calculate the minutes until she gets to go back to school. She only makes it through tallying up the rest of June though before something tapping on her window distracts her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey, Cherry.” He’s lucky her room is on the first floor, or else she would have already shut her window. Though she can’t really do that when he’s standing right there in her mother’s shrubs with a wide grin that glints in the hazy dusk. 

“What do you want, Joel?”

“Mikey Donahue is having a party at his house. You wanna come? Have a little fun?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” She goes to shut her window again, but Joel holds it in place, not letting it budge no matter how hard she pushes down on it.

“Oh, c’mon. You used to be fun, what happened to that girl, huh?”

“I grew up, which seems to be more than you can say.”

“Oh, how you wound me, Cherry baby.”

“When are you going to stop calling me that? Nobody else calls me that these days except for you.”

“When you do something funnier than snorting cherry cola out of your nose.” At this point, she has given up on trying to close the window, resting her palms along the sill to lean out so she can whisper yell right into his entirely too smug face.

“I was nine, Joel. And it was your fault for making me laugh that hard.” 

“So you admit that I make you laugh?”

“You’re impossible.”

“That wasn’t a no, Cher.” All she can do is huff at him and his relentless grin, taking a moment to look him over. A little more dressed than usual, still in those cut-offs of his, but with an actual flannel shirt on top, sleeves rucked up to his elbows and with a few more buttons undone than what had been during dinner, slipping open even more when he leans down with his hands spread wide on the sill.

“Come on, it’s summer, and I know you’re not having any fun up in Chicago–”

“I have plenty of fun in Chicago.” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead when she interrupts him so quick, the snap of her words telling him just how untrue that statement actually is.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. Just do an old friend a favor, Cherry, and come out with me tonight, huh? Really, it’s the least you can do after you almost busted my balls.”

“I was doing a public good by lessening the chances of little Joel Millers running around here in the future.” He lets out a long laugh at that, tossing his head back, the long line of his neck bobbing with the sound.

“Touché, but fine, if you don’t wanna come I guess I could always go knock on Lisa-Anne’s window. She got home last week.” He knows exactly what he’s doing by saying that, already pushing off the window and starting to walk away. Fine, she thinks, he can go have fun with stupid fucking Lisa-Anne from down the block. It’ll probably make her whole summer considering that she’s had a crush on him since his front teeth came in in the second grade. 

“Joel, wait!” He stops dead in his tracks, one foot still stuck in the shrubs outside her window as he turns around, his lips pursed to stave off what she’s sure would be a shit-eating grin. She’s already swinging one leg out of her window, trying to do so with as much grace as she can, though she still stumbles a bit in the shrubs,grabbing onto Joel’s arm to steady herself before quickly letting go with a huff.

“Just for a little while, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Cherry baby.” 

…

He’s not sure what the appropriate thing to do is in this situation. Not really any rules of etiquette for seeing a woman you didn’t think you’d ever see again, seventeen years later, and with a kid no less. All he knows is that he can’t let her drive off without saying something, so even as Sarah is calling his name like a question, he’s walking through the ballfield parking lot toward where she’s helping her daughter pack her bags into the trunk of their minivan.

“Uh, hey.” Great start, man, Jesus Christ. She turns around and smiles, smiles, and suddenly it’s summer of ‘86 all over again.

“Woah, old man, back off a little.” And suddenly it is most definitely not summer of ‘86, her kid stepping between the two of them and giving him a look that could kill. 

“Ellie, manners please. Why don’t you wait in the car?” 

“But, mom–”

“No buts, it’s fine, alright? I’ll just be a minute.” Her daughter, Ellie, huffs, giving him one more squinted look before she shuffles over to the side of the car, getting in with a hard slam of her door.

“So, mom, huh?” She tilts her head at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and her shoulders shrugging up.

“It looks that way. And dad?” She jerks her chin over his shoulder and he turns around to see Sarah standing by their car with one hand held over her eyes for shade as she squints at them. She’s never going to let him live this down.

“Looks that way, yeah. Are you– I didn’t– you’re back in town?” He’s trying to subtly look for a ring on her left hand, though her knuckles are still tucked into her jean pockets, and he’s pretty sure squinting at her pelvis is not a good way to make an impression in this unexpected reunion. 

“Yeah, we moved back at the start of June.”

“And when you say we, that’s– that’s you and–”

“Just Ellie and I, yep.” He has to try really hard not to smile at that, dragging a palm down his scruff to keep it at bay. 

“So you never left, huh?” 

“Uh, no, nope. Hopped a few neighborhoods over though. I don’t know if you heard, but the old block got torn down.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was, they put in a bunch of condos over it.” 

“Well I guess the times really have changed.” He should probably say something else, should probably get back to Sarah, but he can’t stop looking at her, and it seems like she can’t stop looking at him. Both of them studying all the places that time and life has settled. Her hair is shorter, he likes it, though he probably should keep that to himself. Before he can say anything, however, the blare of a car horn startles them both out of each other’s gaze. 

“Mom, let’s go.” Ellie has stuck her head out of the driver side window, the source of their interruption, already tucking back inside the car with another groan. Cherry just shakes her head.

“That’s my cue. I guess we’ll see each other around then, since our daughters are playing in the same league and all.” It still gives him pause, our daughters, and he has to clear his throat before responding. 

“I guess so, reckon we’re gonna give the umps a summer to remember.” She laughs, and he remembers that sound, still the same. He didn’t think he’d ever get to hear it again, but now he’s glad that he does. 

“For the record, that was a strike.”

“Whatever you say, Cherry.”

“Can’t believe you’re still calling me that.”

“Can’t believe you never did anything funnier than snorting cherry coke out of your nose.” All he gets from her at that is another shake of her head before she turns around to get in her car. Luckily, she doesn’t see the way he runs right into the open trunk of someone else’s car because of the way he’s slowly shuffling backward to get one more look at those jeans of hers from behind. He only realizes that he’s smiling like a fool when he gets into the car and Sarah shoots him a look from the passenger seat.

“Okay, you’re acting weird. Who was that?”

“Just a very old friend.”

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

tags for the moots and folks i think are interested - lmk if you want added or dropped : @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜 ౨ৎ

mastuoka rin x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ lifeguard!rin & lifeguard! reader ﾉ established relationship

“wanna have a race?” the water beneath you kisses your cheeks as you float on its surface, soft waves carrying you wherever they please with the direction of the wind. the sun isn’t as bright as it had been earlier in the day, doesn’t beam uncomfortably over your skin and in your eyes. it’s beginning to sink down past the horizon, leaving the sky an almost mystical blend of pink and purple.

a lounge chair drags against concrete somewhere on the other side of the pool—no doubt matsuoka going down the checklist of tasks to do before either of you can lock up the gates and go home for the night. he always makes an effort to start the closing duties as soon as the last patron leaves for the day.

“no… would you like to help me clean up?” his voice is smooth despite hours of blowing his whistle and firmly reminding rowdy children not to run or roughhouse. 

“come on.” you whine from your place on the glistening blue water. “sitting in a chair all day is no fun. it’ll be quick—promise! and we can make it more interesting with conditions.”

any noise from outside the pool ceases. you can’t see him from your position on your back but the silence is enough to tell you he’s at least considering. “what do you mean?”

with his question, you effortlessly transition from floating on your back to swimming towards matsuoka. splashes sound in your ears as you make your way to the edge of the pool, the sound softening when you slow to a stop, propping your arms on the warm concrete. your gaze drags up from matsuoka’s sandal-clad feet, over his red trunks and white t-shirt, to finally land on his cherry irises. they’re sparkling with curiosity.

“if you win, i’ll quit slacking off and help you clean up—i’ll even take on the majority of the work. but if i win…” you pause for a moment, contemplating how you can benefit from this arrangement. something comes to mind, makes the corners of your lips pull up in a smile. “you have to do whatever i ask.”

his eyebrows come together in the middle of his forehead in a troubled frown.

you frantically wave your hands to wipe the unsureness from his face, drops of water flinging from your fingertips onto the concrete, leaving dark little imperfect circles on the pool deck. “nothing bad!”

he thinks about it for a moment before shrugging and reaching for the neckline of his shirt to pull the fabric over his head. he shakes his hair out and kicks off his sandals, all while looking at you. “fine, i’m in. freestyle?”

“well, we’re not doing butterfly,” you tell him, putting your palms on the concrete to pull yourself out of the pool. there aren’t any starting blocks at the humble neighborhood pool but you still emerge from the water to take your place.

rin chuckles at your unwillingness to swim his specialty. you must really have your mind set on that unspoken wish of yours. “free it is, then.”

you both ready yourselves at the pool’s edge. knees bent, the toes of your starting foot gripping the edge of the deck, you clear your throat. “on three?”

your companion hums. “you count.”

“one.” you extend your arms over your head. “two.” you lean forward. “three!”

you push off the deck as fast as you can after shouting the last count but it seems like rin is faster, entering the water a fraction of a second quicker than you. you can only stay underwater so long, the pool much more shallow than those used for your competitions, shorter in length too. you break the water’s surface and start your stroke, arms alternating in their mission to carry you to the end of the pool.

the water beside you in rin’s imaginary lane looks like it's splashing ahead of yours. you’re in the final stretch and don’t have the luxury of paying him any attention if you want to win. you muster up every bit of energy left in you after a draining day of dealing with kids and teenagers who treat rules as suggestions and convert it into strength that feeds your final push.

when you emerge at the end, rin’s head has already popped above the water, maroon strands of hair dripping with beads of water that drop right back into the pool. you run a hand over your face and shake your head. “no fair.”

rin snorts. he saw this coming—you always find something to nitpick about whenever your so-called friendly competitions don’t end in your victory. he’d call you a sore loser if it weren’t so entertaining. “you’re only saying that because you lost.”

“nuh-uh.” and here come your desperate, far-fetched attempts at discrediting his win. “you’re taller than me so that’s an automatic advantage.”

he won’t argue with you on that one but he does take notice of how you opted to base your argument on that rather than technique or skill. a mischievous smile turns the corners of his lips upward. no good can come from such an expression. “yeah, but i thought free was supposed to be your specialty.”

a strangled noise of disbelief penetrates the air as your eyes widen and you point an accusing finger at him. “you train in freestyle too!”

rin burst into laughter at your reaction, eyes crinkling at the corner, arms wrapped around his stomach. what’s worse, you can’t be as mad at him as you want to be. you’ve always told him that you find him the prettiest while he’s laughing—really laughing. any anger you can summon, barely any at all, comes in the form of a displeased groan and a weak splash of water at him.

his laughs die down, leaving only the gentle ripple of the waves and the occasional chirp of a cricket on the other side of the fence. humor lingers on rin’s face but there’s tenderness in his features. “look, if you promise to hold up your end of the bargain, then i’ll give you that wish.”

“really?” you ask. you never planned on leaving him hanging, and you think he knows that, but you’re definitely willing to pull your weight if he’s willing to be so amendable.

“sure.” he nods, elbow propped on the deck. “so, what is it you wanted me to do so badly?”

it’s silly now that you think about it—the idea and your convoluted way of asking for it. a sense of comfort washes over you as you gaze into his inquisitive eyes. he once told you he’d do anything for you. “i want… a pool kiss.”

his lips stretch into a grin. “that’s it?”

“don’t ‘that’s it?’ me.” you bring your hand up from the water to slap his chest. your cheeks haven’t been this warm in his presence since the two of you first started dating. “i thought you’d call me corny for asking.”

“i mean, it’s a bit cliche but…” you open your mouth to tell him that your worries weren’t for nothing but he doesn’t let the words pass your lips. his wet palms cradle your face as he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. his body is firm against you but his lips are soft like the fluffy clouds that have yet to disappear with the day. they’re sweet like the cotton candy sky.

his forehead presses against you when he pulls away, your noses nudging with the proximity. the absence of his lips on yours makes you feel as though you should have asked for more than one kiss.

“anything for you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated :3

[milliesfishes]

Request of Billy Bragging about his girl😭

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly bragging about you౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid (this one's a little bit short but this is so cute <3)

Naturally since in his eyes you were the prettiest, sweetest woman in the west, Billy felt the need to let everyone know it.

He wasn’t obnoxious when he did so- that wasn’t his way. Billy was more subtle, but oh did you notice.

Sometimes it was in the form of the clothes you wore. He’d watch you get dressed, leaning back on his hands and saying, “Wear that one, sweet. Ya look so pretty.”

And of course you’d do as he requested because him thinking you looked pretty in turn made you feel pretty. He always made sure you knew how lovely he found you.

Your favorite, however, was when he’d talk about you.

To his credit, he didn’t rub it in. But he wouldn’t shy away from lavish praise if given the chance.

One time you were getting the two of you drinks at the bar while he stayed at the table with his friends. Ever the gentleman, Billy’d offered to get them but you insisted, saying you wanted to stretch your legs.

While you were waiting for the barkeep, you heard your name over the rumbling noise of the bar and turned your head.

Billy was nodding, smiling broadly. “She’s a light ain’t she? My best girl.”

“Pretty little thing to be sure,” one of his friends said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Smart too,” Billy countered, grinning and sitting back. He was a fine sight in the chair sitting with his legs spread, his gun resting on his thigh in its holster. “My girl’s read everything’ from Thoreau to Shakespeare.”

A little twinge of pride lit in your chest, and you were hardly able to contain your smile. Of course he always told you these things, but it was another thing entirely to hear him say it to other people. It almost made it more real.

“Real shame ya snatched ‘er up ‘fore anyone else could get a chance,” the other man groaned, setting his beer on the table. “She’s a keeper, that one.”

“She is,” Billy agreed, looking over at you. You smiled sweetly, grabbing your drinks and coming over to him, sitting on his leg.

“Hey sweet girl,” Billy greeted, dutifully kissing your temple. “Everythin’ good pretty?”

You nodded, setting your drinks on the table and wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. He chuckled. "You okay?"

"Just love you," you smiled, tilting your head up to him.

He smiled, petting your hair and keeping his hand splayed on your tummy. "Love ya too sugar. Love love love ya."

You loved when he showed you off too, his other way of bragging.

His gang would be having a bonfire or something of the like and Billy would insist he come along, keeping his arm around your waist the whole time.

"Look who I brought!" he'd call out, and his boys would whistle and holler much to your blush.

He'd smack a kiss on your cheek. "Ain't she pretty?"

You'd nestle up to him in the glow of the fire, and he'd hold you between his legs, tugging the ends of his jacket to cover you as well as him. Occasionally the wind would blow smoke in your direction and you'd bury your face in his chest.

Billy would laugh, hiding his own nose in your hair. "Smoke follows beauty, pretty, ya know that? 'nd I got the most beautiful girl all snuggly in my arms."

come talk about billy here!