#hes a business man ofc he wants money in return

[lucy-the-demon]

Tom nook and Timmy and Tommy

I tried

The gremlin tanuki children.

I love them

I don't love or hate Tom nook. We're just mutuals I guess

[zweiginator]

What if divorced!art gets dragged to a club one weekend by his foundation-buddies and he obviously doesn’t want to but he forces himself and then it turns out that escort!reader is also there with her friends and they see each other outside of «work» for the first time… And her friends doesn’t know about her escorting so maybe they recognize him and maybe she goes to talk to him because her friends says she should «flirt more»🤭 And then ofc he fucks her in the dirty club bathroom

divorced!art upset because he hasn't seen you in weeks. everything has been busy since he hit the ground running with tennis again. practice after practice, signing sponsorship deals, galas and charity fundraising. and you had been busy too. art didn't know this, but you're a student as well. you didn't tell him not because you didn't want to share your life with him, but because it made you feel juvenile. of course, it's university and you're almost finished with your degree after five and a half years instead of the usual four--but you still feel dumb talking about that part of your life with him. for you to bitch about group projects and essays about political science while art is upset about custody battles and petty divorce politics--it feels trivial.

but your friends want to celebrate the semester being freshly over. just a few more summer classes for you and you will finally graduate. you'll finally get to hang up your hat and say goodbye to escorting. to that taboo little secret that's been dragging your eyes into sunken purple holes for the past fourteen months.

and your friends don't know, of course. it's impossible to explain to a group of girls whose parents pay for tuition and books and groceries. gas, clothes and even the designer heels they wear to the club they're standing in right now--that you need to do this. for money. to survive.

no, it isn't ideal. but this is the real fucking world and sex sells.

so they think you're prudish. they've never seen you have a boyfriend or flirt because that's your job every other day of the week. to pretend to be in love. to fuck lonely assholes and pretend to care about their lives. to believe them when they say they aren't a bad husband. that men have needs.

they urge you to flirt with men at the bar. but like always, you're just not interested. and all the men in this shitty tavern-bar-turned-college-club are all the same. middle-aged men who shoved their wedding bands in their back pockets to pick up pussy from a doe-eyed girl in her twenties.

none of them are remotely attractive. and you're thanking your lucky stars that you don't recognize a single one of them.

your friend taps on your shoulder. "there's one hot guy here. you may recognize him. he's kinda famous."

you down the rest of your drink. "oh really? i doubt i'd be interested."

but she points to a man leaning against the bar way off in the corner. sad eyes and salt and pepper hair that was once dirty blond; you've seen his baby pictures. he's tall and in love with you and you with him and you could strangle him right now because he hasn't returned your calls or texts in over five days.

"art donaldson." your other friend sighs. "he's a tennis player and i'd fuck him if i didnt have a boyfriend."

it's then that art turns around. likely feels the eyes of six girls burning into the back of his skull. he's holding a beer bottle and he looks forlorn, his typical woe is me demeanor that makes him so fucking attractive to you. lights up that neanderthal part of your brain that makes you want to fix the unfixable.

and then he smiles. it makes you blush and your friends, not knowing the tendrils of your history together that have now become rooted in the ground beneath you, tell you to go for it.

"he's staring right at you."

you know that. art knows not to make it clear he knows you; it would open up that whole can of worms.

so he waits for you to come to him and you pretend to be nervous which isn't that hard because you are already.

when you get to him, he whispers in your ear.

"they don't know about your job, im assuming?" he wants to wrap his arms around your waist but he refrains.

"they don't. but they know you, and they're very fond of you. they want me to flirt more."

art flags down the bartender. he gets you a gin and tonic, remembering how you liked the one he made for you that first night at his hotel room. you were just trying to make him feel better.

"well im glad im the lucky man." he sits down on a stool and hooks his leg around the stool next to him to bring it closer. he motions for you to sit and your friends are all staring at you but pretending they aren't.

"me too. although i don't know how much you deserve it." you take a sip. "given how you haven't responded to my calls in awhile."

art takes your drink from your hand, sets it down. he rests his hand on your lower back.

"im sorry honey. i haven't been meaning to be an asshole. there's a lot going on with tennis and everything."

you run a hand through his hair. "i get it." you feign a frown. "you just may have to make it up to me." and when you uncross your legs, art can see your thong. he tenses his jaw.

"i do need to make it up to you, don't i?" he takes a swig from his beer. "i'll tell you what." he glances around, at the bathroom door swinging open. "why don't i go to the bathroom to freshen up and you come check on me in a few minutes, yeah?"

he's so close you can smell the beer on his breath. you nod and he goes toward the bathroom.

your friends want to come over and ask you all about it, but then you're knocking on the bathroom door with your special knock. the one that only you and art know.

he pulls you inside, and the bathroom is dingy with a flickering light and graffiti on the walls. drawings of dicks and crude words but art sits on the toilet seat.

"c'mere." he reaches out to you and you go to him. a pavlovian response that makes you so fucking wet to be near him. to be on his lap like you're supposed to be. he kisses you like he missed you because he has. he's not supposed to. his lips trail wet, hot kisses up your throat and he's greedier than usual. dragging your pussy over his throbbing erection. he's only wearing his briefs on his bottom half and you tug at his shirt because you want to see all of him. feel all of him. he does the same to you. panting into your mouth because his cock rests between your folds. nudges against your clit as you grind on him.

"fuckin' ruined pussy for me." he throws his head back and you grab his jaw to kiss him. sloppy and disgusting but you love the taste of him. how your lipstick melds into his saliva. drips down his neck like you're a vampire taking him for everything he fucking has.

"yeah?" you rake your nails down his chest and take his cock out. it's bare against your pussy, your panties pushed to the side.

"nothing turns me on anymore. nothing gets me off. only you. that tight fucking cunt."

he never talks like this. so crude. but you love drawing it out of him. milking those dirty words as you stroke his heavy cock for him. people bang on the bathroom door but neither of you fucking care.

you sink down on him. you do it all at once. you're addicted to how his hips spasm and his eyes roll back and he lets a strangled moan-groan hybrid escape him. he holds onto the flesh of your ass as you fuck him.

the porcelain of the toilet creaks unsteady below you and you're completely on top of him, your feet behind you as you fuck him harder and harder. but he asks for more because he wants you more.

"fuck me--fuck me--" he repeats it over and over. guides you up and down and up and down his cock from base to tip. "your pussy was fucking made for me. i need it, i need it--"

his mouth hangs open and you can't believe he's yours like this. you want him to cum but then again you don't because then he can't be inside you anymore. and that's precisely where you want him.

his jaw is tense and his neck pulses with his heartbeat as he presses his forehead to yours.

"i want you--" a moan. "to hit me. i want you to fucking claim me."

so you smack him, and his arms wrap tight against your waist because he's cumming and he wants it to stay like this forever. but if it can only be a few more minutes, that will do too.

[greattigerssimp]

PO boxers (my AU) and what their sponsors would be!

Because ain't no way the babygirls are living in NY on a single paycheck. Sell out time! (Also for my rp with @vampirtulpe )

Glass Joe 🇫🇷 🥐

- Typically partners with smaller bakeries that he frequents

- They reward him with free pastries and coffee in return for companionship

- When Joe first came to NY, he thought Panera Bread was a small indie bakery... oh how he was wrong and made fun of for it.

Von Kaiser 🇩🇪🔩

- Very cautious about partnering with anyone, mainly because of the whole ordeal with Soda

- Did exactly one commercial with some hardware company and then dipped

- His boxing class absolutely adored that commercial though, they were like "omggg Mr. Kaiser I saw you on the television yesterday!!1!"

Disco Kid 🇺🇲 🕺

- His sponsor is actually the radio station His dad owns

- In fact that radio station actually promotes most of the WVBA... but especially Disco Kid in particular

King Hippo 🏝 🦛

- No sponsors

- Created a blender once to sell it

- His blendah sucks

Piston Hondo 🇯🇵 🥊

- Will happily promote any small business he stumbles upon or that reach out to him

- This includes that boxercise class Heike owns

- Brings an unnatural amount of energy into each commercial, you'd swear he was on something

Bear Hugger 🇨🇦 🐻

- Partnered with this one syrup brand (ofc)

- So intertwined with them, Spruce is dead ahh the mascot of the brand now.

- Puts a secret environmental message into each ad he does

Great Tiger 🇮🇳🐅

- Not really a partnership, but he used to collab with multiple rap artists

- The deal was he'd get to sing at least two lines, or else he's not promoting the song

- Nowadays he'll just do a random gig if he needs extra cash

Don Flamenco 🇪🇸 🥀

- Does perfume and men's clothing commercials

- Bro is basically making tv-friendly thirst traps

- He actually loves doing them, but Carmen only let's him do them once per month

Aran Ryan 🇮🇪 😈

- Did a singular ad for some energy drink...

- Long story short, he got fired, the set burnt down, and 4 people landed in the hospital

- Yeah no one wants his smelly redhead ass

Soda Popinski 🇷🇺 🍾

- Soooo that whole fiasco with the corrupt Vodka company... yeah.

- Thankfully Macho Man helped him break off from the company

- No longer does any partnerships

Bald Bull 🇹🇷 🐂

- No sponsors, doesn't want any

- He's happy with what he's got

- He doesn't work well with others

Super Macho Man 🇺🇸 🌊

- Dude has done adverts for everyone and everything...

- Body care, cars, energy drinks, Hippos blender's... you name it, he's probably done it. Dude is a walking advert.

- Shares his promotional money with Soda

Mr. Sandman 💤 🟢

- Partnered with the WVBA

- Helps sell WVBA merchandise such as action figures, clothes... even events.

- Isn't allowed to interact with anyone or anything else...

(This was a cringy idea, I'm sorry ;-; )

[alexdelray1]

Mizu x Fem Reader dating headcanons.

WARNINGS: Mentions of grape! Strong language! Mentions of death and etc. My first language isn't English.

Hope you'll like it ;)

First things first, you met Mizu when you went to the blacksmith for a new sword with your father, who is a samurai. The blacksmith turned out to have an apprentice, a boy your age who you started to like. The boy didn't talk much and while the blacksmith and your father were talking, you tried to start a conversation with him, which didn't really work.

And that's how your first meeting was like.

Your second one was when your father died in a fight and you wanted to return the sword without getting the money back becouse you didn't have any other male relatives who would be able to use the sword.

When you reached the blacksmith and wanted to return the sword he told you to keep it at least as a reminder of your father. There you saw Mizu who was in his teens like you. He was training outside. This weirded you out. Why does the blacksmith's assistant trains like a samurai?

You asked him and the only thing he said was:

"It's not really your business, curious."

Your third meeting was when one night some bad men were robbing and killing people from your village.

One of them got into your house when you were sleeping.

You opened your eyes and saw this man in front of you with a disgusting smirk. You knew what he wanted to do.

You killed the man with your father's sword that was under your futon. When you got out of the house you saw a lot of dead bodies. Not only of the people from your village but also the murders were dead. Then next to you a man who was proprably hiding next to your door, started forcing you to go with him by kicking and hitting you.

You closed your eyes and then the man's hand that held you, you don't know why but fell. You opened your eyes and saw a man with straw hat that hidden his face. He was holding a sword with blood on it. You looked down and saw the man's dead body. You looked at the strange man again.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"We haven't seen each other in a while, curious."

HC:

Mizu then took you with him and confessed that he's actually a woman. Which suprised you.

She didn't want to leave you somewhere and let you get sold and raped or just raped so she asked you if you want to seek revenge with her.

You accepted the offer but also promised to train so you won't be such an easy target for enemies.

Mizu at first wasn't very open to you at first but with time she started to really like your company. You being a woman proprably had to do something with it.

She started to have feelings for you and wanted to confess them to you in the hot springs while you two were naked which was in her mind 'romantic' and 'good moment'

But then a man named Ringo stopped the whole conversation by appearing and changing the mood.

When Ringo joined you two Mizu started to get little bit more annoyed becouse she was jealous. You and Ringo had very nice conversations while she was too nervous to even join in.

One time when Ringo had some things to do alone, she took you to some old temple and confessed. You ofc said that you love her two.

Let's just say that you two quickly blessed the temple.

When you three met Taigen he quickly assumed that you two are a 'normal straight couple'. When you and Taigen got a moment alone he asked you.

"Aren't you scared that you're going to get pregnant while this mission or whatever Mizu is doing? Everyone heard you two and I don't think you two pull out."

"Let's just say that me and Mizu have our own way of not having kids."

Hope you guys liked it :)

[onsunnyside]

ok so i've been trying to come up with a mafia trope for this ask by the bestie @bimbofawn: now this isn't a full-blown mob fic, but it has a few elements

The Camerons have all the wealth, influence and success anyone can dream of. They come from a long lineage of fame and riches, now running the parent company of many subsidiaries with power all across the country. It's no surprise they're involved in a few shady businesses, yet it's all kept tightly under wraps.

As the heir to a vast dynasty, Rafe grew up under a lot of pressure to be the best in what he does, and his ego is proof of that. He's in the tabloids, the ivy league graduate by day and the wild bachelor by night, landing himself in more scandals than ass-kissing articles.

The Camerons are known for their prestige and (heavily manufactured) picture-perfect image. So Rafe's sleazy, immature behaviour just won't do. Although he's doing good with the shady side of the family business (bc ofc he's into violence and drug trafficking/manufacturing), he needs to do better with the public side. To give his son a motive for cleaning up his act, he gives him an ultimatum: lose it all and get disowned or settle down.

Now, he has a few months to find someone, but his ego won't let him settle for just anyone. The headlines aren't any comfort either: Pleasure Over Business: Is Rafe Cameron responsible for the fall of the Cameron dynasty?

This is very off-to-the-races coded: you drift into his sector on his friend's arm one night. He shrugs you off, expecting there to be a different girl the next time they go to the clubs (because there always is) but nope, you show up again and again.

It’s hard for him to ignore someone so kindhearted and naturally alluring. He can’t look away from you sipping on the straw, your calm gaze locked on his, making him stumble over his words like a teenager with a crush. He dreams of you every time he falls asleep, your pretty face burned on the inside of his eyelids as if you belonged there.

But one night his friend shows up with a different girl.

"Her rates got too high, and my folks were getting suspicious so I had to let her go, unfortunately." He exhales, his arm around the other woman kissing up his neck.

Now, did he predict you were an escort? Not at all. It catches him off guard and he almost spits up his drink. "You paid her to date you?"

Topper glares, "you don't have to say it like that. We did more than just make appearances together if that's what you're asking. All consensual, of course, but you do have to pay extra for private um... sessions."

me senses... a sugar-baby proposition: "I'll take care of everything, all expenses, your rent, and an allowance on top of that. Anything you want you can have."

You're still apprehensive, you've taken clients who've heard of you from word of mouth before, but this was new. They were best friends who routinely saw each other, you'd hate to stir the pot. "Won't it be weird?"

"You with Top was just business and so is what I'm offering." Perhaps that was a little white lie, but you didn't need to know that. "No harm, no foul. In my hands, you could live better than this."

"I like my home." You mutter, hugging a pillow to your chest, it was one of the many mismatched cushions that littered your old couch. "I worked hard to get it this way."

He nudges the wobbly table by the door, the picture frames rattling on the surface. "For thousands of dollars a night, I would've expected some sense of luxury, or a stove with actual knobs." He says and quirks a brow, "where'd all that money go?"

"Oh... I had to give my boss his cut."

"How much is that?"

"80 percent." You admit, ducking away when Rafe frowns, "I know, I know... It wasn't my fault, my daddy—" Your voice cracks, "My daddy got involved with a bad man after he gambled away all our savings and my college fund. And he still couldn't stop after my mama left. I had to—I had to help somehow."

You still remember returning from campus to see him bruised and battered on the living room floor, crying for your mother who was halfway across the world, now a happily divorced woman. The memory brings tears to your eyes and they stream down your cheeks.

Rafe bites his tongue, rethinking his decision to show up here in the first place. Your unlucky life only made you more perfect, and as terrible as it sounded, he knows he won't find anyone more fitting for his circumstances.

He refused to leave until you agreed.

"What's his name?"

You don't hear him over your sniffles and rub your nose into your pillow, "huh?"

He crouches by your feet, placing a hand on your thigh. "What's the big bad man's name, sweetie?"

"Why—Why are you asking..."

The blue in his eyes seems darker, but it could just be the dim lightbulbs you haven’t changed yet. He blinks up at you with thick lashes, a slow smile crawling onto his face.

"I'm going to prove to you that when you're with me, you've got nothing to worry about."

And the next night, he shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet of flowers and bruised knuckles. You don’t get one word out before drops a heavy duffel bag on the floor, “here’s the money you deserve for your work, and extra for your troubles.”

You glance at the bag and then his face, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “What—What did you do?”

He smiles, cocking his head to the side. “Nothing you have to worry about, sweetheart.” He says, wiping toothpaste from the corner of your lip. “Now, are you going to invite me in?”

Rafe is very possessive, he doesn’t care that you dated/slept with his friend because you belong to him now. He buys you a gold necklace with his initial on it, parades you around the city for all the nosy paps to see, and brings you home to meet his family. And yes, you do get the gold seal of approval from his father.

well this is just a mash-up of different tropes 🫡 fake relationship, sugar daddy and mob, with rafe's signature "you're mine" mindset. me has a few slutty and soft ideas for this au too hehe

[dystychiphxbia]

☆ - Gym crush! pt. 3

this sucked but im so busy with uni aaa

gn!reader

characters: isagi, reo, nagi

Isagi Yoichi:

this guy is new to the gym

he catches your eye, mainly because his form is horrifying at first

where did bro learn how to squat...

you try your best to help him!!

and wow he learns super fast

like...when one is new to the gym they usually progress fast but he's on another level...

you are honestly impressed

and he's so nice too??

except when he has progressed enough to attempt a pr...yeah it's the same level of focusment as when he's playing football

and he can get angry at you for bothering him

but he will always apologize afterwards and say that he just really needed to focus

he really enjoys your company...he was a blushing mess when you first approached him and he still struggles to keep his composure when your hands accidentally touch

always spots for you but first you have to teach him how to do it

definitely talks about you to his friends

they try to get him to ask you out but he always says that you are just his gym crush, no way you return his feelings (but you do)

and your thighs...he WILL be looking at them.

Mikage Reo;

now let's be real...this guy has his own personal gym for sure

but let's say one of his friends drag him to a regular gym....for plot reasons

rich boy is shocked

but you catch his attention...you are so elegant...you dont fit in with all the gym bros

now the problem is he wants to talk to you...would it be weird? can he just invite you to his gym instead?

he overthinks too much

you notice him too, he looks out of place and his gym etiquette is lacking

he forgets to rerack his weights and you immediately go remind him

"oh...im used to not having to rerack them at my own private gym...thanks for the heads up."

nah not the entitled rich boy

but you are a bit jealous...especially when you are waiting for the leg press to be free

reo hates working out in a packed gym but he just cant get you out of his mind even couple days later

his friend says you come often during the peak times and always seem pissed off about having to wait between machines...

so, he returns to the gym once more with a plan

and there you are....waiting for a free squat rack

you were quite surprised to see him...why would a rich boy with his own gym return to a regular gym during peak hours?

once you start racking your weights, reo comes up to you asking how many sets you have left

"bro. i just started. you saw me." "well lemme squeeze in between ur sets yeah?"

you dont like sharing. but the gym is packed. so you give in.

reo keeps talking to you and you realize that he's actually nice

sure he's rich and entitled and has no clue about how the life of a poor commoner is, but you enjoy talking with him

and the way he throws in a few flirts, and makes sure to compliment you...you are a goner

you end up doing your entire routine with him, getting to know him more

you can't help but notice the way he looks at you...and your body

by the end of the workout, he drops the big question

"wanna ditch this gym and workout at mine?"

he promises you can workout for free...ofc you say yes cause that means you can save money

so you save money and he gets to see you almost everyday...an ideal situation!

honestly in the end you care more about seeing reo than saving money...

Nagi Seishiro;

nah who got this man to the gym

again...let's say a friend forced him to come along...for plot reasons...

he does not want to be there

like yes he has his goals that he wants to achieve, but a packed gym is just too much

you see him occupying a machine you need for like 10 mins just being on his phone so you go up to him

he's confused but lets you have the machine, he wasn't really using it anyway

honestly he seems kinda lost

like he doesnt actually know what to do. since he was already dragged to the gym, he should do something useful but he doesn't know what

and you notice...and kinda feel bad for him...he looks like a lost puppy

so!! you help him out!!

you dont know much about football but you help him figure out what he should do at the gym to improve :)

he actually appreciates your help. and you see him come to the gym more and more

this is nagi we are talking about so it's a miracle that he actually keeps coming back

but the thing is that he really wants to see you!! you motivate him

you always smile so brightly when you see him. he just can't get enough of that smile.

everything is less of a hassle with you around!

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

can you do hcs of dating grayson hawthorne?

grayson hawthorne x fem! reader

hcs about meeting & dating the heir apparent of the hawthorne family.

a/n: ofc!! thx sm for the request & sorry for the wait!! i just got a new one also requesting grayson so this one goes out to you too anon!! grayson hawthorne is one of the lomls🫶 i am so indecisive between him & jameson fr (but for avery i think jameson is better suited for her). hope u enjoy!! i'm a sucker for the poor x rich trope sorry & i love tobias lowkey playing match maker in these LOL & this follows some of the main story but then kinda trails off

word count: 6.8k

warnings: almost drowning (LOL), minor mature language, few spoliers for final gambit i guess?,

before you were dating the second oldest hawthorne, you were just a girl working part-time at a diner as a waitress, trying to make enough money to buy a car. you were relentlessly getting picked up/dropped off everywhere by either one of your parent's vehicles.

being a waitress wasn't ideal when dealing with rude customers, pretentious managers, and occasional annoying co-workers, but you had decent pay, and tips weren't too bad.

most of the time you were running the show on your own. serving tables, acting as hostess, dealing with unsatisfied customers, etc. it wasn’t even the lack of staff, it was lazy behaviors of your co-workers and manager - who got the job because her dad owns the business.

one peculiar afternoon you were doing your usual job of serving tables and taking orders when an older gentleman walked in, way classier than your usual customers. you seated him, gave him a menu, and then returned to the kitchen to serve your other tables.

the diner staff seemed to be murmuring words and glancing back at the man, but you didn't pay any mind to it. it wasn't unusual for you to catch staff gossiping about customers.

going back to the table, you gave him the complimentary water and then asked for his beverage of choice - he chose a simple black coffee. you went to the kitchen and returned with his drink. you were on the verge of asking for his meal order, but he looked preoccupied with a crossword puzzle.

you peaked over, and noticed he looked possibly stuck, so you offered your help because you often did crosswords when you were bored. "do you mind if i take a look?"

he said nothing, only gesturing his head toward his little crossword booklet and pen beside it. even his pen looked fancy.

you looked over the one he was one, and after reading the hint and the number of boxes for the word, you could figure it out.

"tatersall."

the old man peered at you as if you spoke a different language.

"it's fabric with checks and lines, the phrase is a bit old-fashioned. i only know it 'cause that's what my dad refers to his shirts as." you explained.

he looked intrigued by your words, as if you'd given him an idea. he thanked you, then went on to fill out the boxes.

words were said much after that. he drank his coffee and left sometime while you were busy serving other tables. when you returned to ask him if he wanted anything else, he was already gone. but not before leaving $200 dollar tip next to his finished coffee.

you thoroughly checked if it was real, not believing anyone would purposely leave such a tip for a cup of black coffee. but in fact, it was very real. and you even bought yourself a very cute dress to commemorate. just to double check it was legit, of course.

the older man with silver-blue eyes continued to come into the diner every few days, never ordering anything other than a black coffee and always being generous with the tip.

you two had polite conversations and odd ones rooted questions he dropped on you. you noticed a lot of them pertained to money and contributions. but you never passed on answering.

they were questions like "what jobs have you worked?", "what are your parents' occupations?", "are you interested in charities and donations?", and "what do you do with the money you earn?"

thru these visits, he finally gave you his name, tobias. it shouldn't had surprised you he had a unique name to match his unique personality.

you didn't get much information about tobias. all he revealed to you was he enjoyed games, was obviously wealthy, and has 2 daughters, one son, and 4 grandsons - who weren't too off from your age.

he liked to talk about a certain one, the second oldest, grayson. you created an image he was a closed-off, goal-driven, cunning, and loyal guy. you didn’t wanna jump to conclusions, but one could say he was slyly trying to set you up with him.

it wasn’t uncommon for grandparents to come in the diner and rave about their grandsons. at times they would even show you a multitude of photos saying how handsome they are and well-raised gentlemen who would be a great match for you.

you never had the heart to straight up tell them ‘not interested’, so you listened to their praises and then fabricated a lie as to why you were unable to date their grandson.

if tobias ever were to ever try and do that you would use the same methods. you were sure his grandson was an acceptable man, but you had no interest in going on a blind date with anytime soon.

however, the conversation didn't maneuver that direction; instead, he went on to talk about how grayson was in charge of a foundation he owns and basically manages everything.

you found that rather impressive, considering he was only eight-teen. then you thought, 'just how rich is this guy?'

this arrangement continued for a few more weeks and then it turns into a constant routine for months. still never ordering anything order than a coffee, and leaving after.

one day, tobias abruptly stopped coming into the diner. and after a two-week hiatus, you figured he was likely not returning again.

you didn't realize how tedious work was without the old man's presence, you were still as busy as ever doing everyone's job, but now you didn't have the levity from your conversations.

it stayed like that for the following three months, no word from tobias. you wanted to contact him somewhere, but you began to realize how little you knew of him, hell you didn't even know his last name. he knew all the basics of what comprised you, but you couldn't even say his favorite color. and you’d known this man for almost a year.

but as it turned out, you didn't need to contact him yourself because a man came into the diner asking for you.

at first, you thought it was an unsatisfied customer here to berate you some more; it wouldn't be the first time. but you were more than relieved it was a guy you'd never seen before, a particularly handsome and well-fitted one.

you went up to the man and politely greeted him, asking how you could help him. he took you presence in when you appeared, looking up and down. it wasn't in a 'checking-you-out' type way, it was of an 'i'm judging what type of person you are' way. you felt scrutinized in your lousy diner girl uniform. it didn't help he was dressed pristinely from head to toe.

he finally spoke, "it's pertaining to my grandfather, tobias hawthorne."

you were piqued up at the mention of tobias, this was the first time you'd heard of his last name, but you didn't know any other tobias's so it must be him.

the man in front of you was one of his infamous grandsons he loved to chat about, although you weren't sure which one. but based on his stern and disciplined attitude, you'd place your bets on grayson. but just to be sure you asked.

"right, my name is grayson hawthorne." you called it. "unfortunately, my grandfather has recently passed. my family is in the middle of gathering everyone for the matter of the will, but all parties must be preset. my grandfather's law firm has informed me you are also mentioned in it."

your heart broke at the reveal of tobias passing. you knew him less than a year, but you still had formed a connection with him.

then the other portion of his statement dawned on you, he mentioned you in his will. why?

grayson seemed to have wanted to know this too. he said tobias mentioned you in passing but didn't offer details about your relationship. he didn't hide how he was suspecting and untrusting of you.

you filled him in on details of how you met, your meetings, and the last time you conversed with him. grayson was still wary of you, but he didn't have any reason yet to say you were lying.

he then urged you to gather your belongings because the two of you had to head over to his family's residence as soon as possible. he has already informed your boss of your leave of absence.

it was all so sudden, you were still processing all this information. grayson's insistence made it nearly impossible to do anything but listen. 

so, grayson took you home to change and pack a few items. you left a note for your parents, letting them know you'd be spending a night or two at a friend's house. you knew if you explained what was really going on they would not let you go; they'd probably even scold you for befriending a random old man at work, calling you naive.

although, that had merit because you were currently off with a man you knew for like five seconds because you believed he was the grandson of a man who you also didn't know for too long.

you thought the chance of getting kidnapped was better than overworking at the diner.

you were astounded when grayson casually took you to the destination of his private jet. you'd never flown first class, let alone a private freaking jet.

you two took off, and a few hours later, arrived in texas. the moment you stepped off, a bodyguard guided the two of you into a limousine. from there, you sought off to the mansion.

when you arrived, you thought you'd been driven to some sort of fancy hotel, but not it was where grayson and the rest of the hawthorne lived. you'd likely get lost trying to go from the kitchen to your bedroom.

grayson had to physically drag you away from your jaw-dropped stare at the property.

when you entered the entrance hall , another girl was already there, an older girl with her as well.

she turned her attention toward you when she noticed you entering, she seemed to have recognized grayson, but had a questioning gaze toward you.

the older girl was the one to speak to you first. “and here i thought we’d already met everyone affiliated with this crazy rich family. hi, i’m libby and this is my sister avery. are you grayson’s girlfriend?”

you could’ve died from awkwardness right there. you didn’t even wanna take a glance at grayson’s reaction, you imagined he would have a look of discontent.

“er, no. we just met today actually. he came into my work saying i’m needed for a will reading, and next thing i know im off in a private jet and in this mansion.”

this time avery spoke up, “sorry about libby’s assumption. it was just because you guys came in together and he’s carrying your bag.”

grayson was in fact hold your small luggage bag. he taken the liberty of taking it out of the trunk of the limo and carried it since.

you didn’t say anything, you just snatched your bag out of grayson’s hands, mumbling a quiet thanks.

grayson let out a laugh, but covered it up as a cough.

avery talked about her situation being similar to yours, except she’s never met tobias hawthorne before. it made you feel better there was someone else who felt like an outsider.

you were led away by grayson, guiding you to the room the will was being read. but you ran into a numerous amount of people on the way.

first, it was xander, the youngest hawthorne grandson. he appeared out of secret passage, jump scaring you. then he introduced himself.

nash, who had a country accent, followed a bit after walking in with his mother skye. she asked you a few invading questions about yourself, and you replied cordially. very relieved when grayson excused you both.

finally, you’d met jameson on accident. you were on the way to the bathroom, using directions given to you, and that’s when you bumped into him. he was very obviously drunk. he slurred a few words, but you quickly excused yourself, not wanting to deal with whatever was going on with him.

once you were finally in the room, you took a seat next to avery since she and her sister were the best options.

finally the will reading began, and the lawyers started reciting its words and designated belongs and money to different family members. all the families were stunned that the grandsons, especially grayson, hadn't gotten the entire fortune. yours and averys names had yet to be mentioned.

"to my newfound friend y/n l/n, i leave conservatorship to the hawthorne foundation. the remainder of my estate, including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, i leave it to be shared upon y/n l/n and avery kylie grambs."

nothing could have you prepared for that. you thought it was a prank at first, some sick joke rich people do that get less-than-fortunate people's hopes up. but no, the lawyer did indeed confirm it to be true.

avery and yourself turned toward each other wide-eyed, completely flabbergasted. then the whole room erupted into chaos, everyone standing up to demand an explanation, accusing you both of having done something.

you had just met these people, and you couldn't for sure say they were capable of murder, but you'd seen enough movies about the rich to know it's definitely a possibility.

luckily, oren, tobias' (now ex) bodyguard, stood in front of you girls, preventing the hawthornes from stepping any closer. he claimed he worked for you both now, so it was his job to protect you.

"should we trust this guy? what if he's just playing us to get the inheritance." avery whispered to you.

"a bodyguard with ulterior motives is better than being left to the wolves."

"good point." libby chimed in.

it didn't end there; there were conditions for the will, saying you and avery must remain at the hawthorne estate for a full year to receive the inheritance.

so not only did you become enemy number one toward most hawthornes, but now you had to live with all of them. lovely.

that jump-started your now future of being involved with the hawthornes (and the grambs sisters)

after the will fiasco, the grayson made it his mission to unmask whatever game you played to get the inheritance, but he always came up empty-handed because you, as you insisted to multiple hawthornes, did not manipulate tobias. you didn't even know the guy's last name until you had met grayson.

if you had a talent for taking advantage of rich men, you would not be wasting time being a waitress for a shitty diner.

however, you tried to look on the very bright side of things, living in a gorgeous mansion. your bedroom was the size of your home's first floor. you;'d never slept on a comfier or larger bed.

one thing that set you apart from avery in the will was that you had complete ownership in the hawthorne foundation and his involvement with different charities. alissa had informed you that you'd need to learn to manage it- designating which associations to donate to, how much, how often, etc.

it was overwhelming to think about; if you failed to be a conservator, it would be given to the grandsons. you also knew having authority over it bothered zara hawthorne, since she'd spent basically her whole life running it. you knew it you were to make a wrong move, she'd be quick to call it out you.

alissa had arranged for you to go to the foundation and meet with someone who'd help you navigate the ropes. a part of you assumed it'd be zara meeting you there, maybe forced by alissa to help you. but instead, it was grayson, who still thought you were some master con woman.

he was the only grandson that had an issue with you and avery, but for some reason, you were more suspicious to him. xander, jameson, and nash seemed to have adjusted to events and were now somewhat friends with you. it was pretty infuriating how grayson would not listen to reason, no matter how much you tried to make amends.

grayson remained professional, not wanting his personal feud to hinder the foundation's work. he started giving you a tour and explaining an overview of how things ran. it became easier for you to imagine yourself running it.

you stopped when you passed by various black and white photos hung up in midair. they'd been hung since the beginning of your tour, but you'd only truly taken notice just now.

"who took these? they're beautiful."

"i did."

'of course, you did' you thought. he seemed to be good at everything.

"can i have a copy of this one?" you pointed toward a photo to your left; it was of a couple dancing together in the rain, in front of the eiffel tower.

"why?"

"i'd always wanted to see the eiffel tower. plus, i just really like it." it was true. the photo was captured exquisitely, and going to paris had always been a goal of yours, along with traveling to different places in the world.

he didn't respond. grayson went up to the photograph and carefully unlatched it. he then turned to you and gestured for you to take it, "here, you can have it."

you were a little shocked he just gave it to you, but hundreds of photos were decorated throughout the building, so it probably didn't mean much just giving you one.

you took it in your hands gently and thanked him. you both then continued your tour into the conference room to discuss further management of the hawthorne foundation.

but unbeknownst to you, the photo you now owned was one of his favorites.

it became easier to get to know and warm up to grayson the more you visited the foundation, which you did quite often because you now that you had (or will have) conservatorship to the foundation, you wanted to ensure you knew everything involving it to ensure you'd continue its success.

you could now say the two of you were somewhat friends, but there still seemed to be a wall - built by grayson, between the two of you. likely from the lack of trust he still has toward you.

at times he'd look at you as if you were the enemy, and other times he'd treat you courteously. his constant mood changes were driving you crazy.

you had been staying up later than usual since your stay at the manor began. it didn't help that there was possibly a secret passage in your room like avery's has.

but your leading cause of distress stemmed from the mystery of the whole will situation. you'd gotten a small letter like everyone else, but it failed to offer any closure.

in fact, all it said was, "good luck". you'd never had the urge to strangle a dead old man til now.

however, this night you decided to walk outside. you'd been hesitant to wander around the mansion, but then again, you technically half owned it now, and nobody could really stop you. so you decided to go to the pool area, carefully avoiding alerting your new bodyguard of your movement.

when you got there, it was empty as you had hoped. the pool was illuminated with the lights, the area surrounding it was dimly lit.

you settled for solely dipping your feet in the pool and gazing at the stars upon the sky.

half an hour in, you heard the faint sound of someone possibly approaching. you took it as a sign to get back to your room before oren noticed, if he hadn't already.

you got up a bit too quickly, causing an imbalance in your step - leading you to stumble backward into the pool.

most people would simply swim back up to the top and pull themselves out, but you couldn't do that for one big reason. you never learned to swim.

panic began to seep into you as you flailed your arms all over the place, attempting to float to the top, but it only made you sink further. it didn't help drowning was on the top of your list of 'ways i would hate to die'.

you were midway through choking on the water when someone jumped into the pool and carried you back onto the pavement.

after coughing the water out of your lungs, you looked at the face your your savior kneeled in front of your; low and below there was grayson hawthorne - wearing nothing but swim shorts.

the sight of him shirtless made it harder to steady your breathing.

"are you alright?" you nodded in confirmation.

"what were you thinking getting into the pool so carelessly?"

"well, i just to test out my new waterproof mascara." you said sarcastically. "obviously i didn't end up in the stupid pool purposely!"

he rolled his eyes. “god, were you born a horrendous swimmer or just taught by an imbecile.”

you stayed silent, looking away from him, not wanting to admit the embarrassing truth.

“do you…do you not know how to swim?”

"….. define knowing to swim.”

he gave you an incredulous look, “seriously? even most 5-year-olds know how to swim, better yet, they wouldn’t almost drown in the 7ft part of the pool.”

“okay i get it! it’s pathetic i don’t know the basics of swimming. you don't have to be an asshole about it.” you stood up angrily in your soggy clothes and attempted to walk away - but grayson grabbed your wrist.

“wait. alright, i apologize for being quick to judge. if you want..i’ll teach you to swim.”

you were taken aback by the gesture, not quite sure what to think. on the one hand, it could be a plan to embarrass you further, but on the other hand - you really didn’t want to live your life not being able to swim any longer.

“alright.”

the following night he made good of his word when you went out to meet him. (oren being aware this time, after he warned you he'd lock you in your room if you snuck out without him again.)

this time you had proper swim attire, a 2 piece bikini alissa had purchased for you, along with others.

grayson was already in the pool when you arrived, swimming laps. once he noticed your arrival, he stepped out of the pool. you would've thought it was a scene from a movie from how smoothly & dreamy he moved.

you averted your eyes before you stared at his form too long.

you weren't sure if it was your imagination or you saw grayson do a double-take when he saw you.

all his attractiveness was shortly forgotten when he went to his bag to retrieve something, then handed you some plastic. it took you a moment, but then it clocked - these you arm floaties.

"you're joking right?"

"hey, after that near-drowning experience, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"it's like you want to humiliate me."

"don't worry i chose the ones with the flowers to enhance your matureness." he fought back a smile with his words.

he got a nasty glare in response.

still, you knocked down your pride on putting on the floaties before you and grayson submerged into the pool.

then grayson began reciting exercises and movements for you to do. after floating around for a bit, he instructed you to remove the floaties. you were obviously hesitant, the floaties were keeping you from drowning, but grayson insisted that you trust him.

he grabbed your waist with both hands and got behind you; that was enough to quicken your pulse.

his hands held you steady as you attempted to stay afloat by moving your arms and legs. it would get harder to focus when his hands moved up and down your back.

"okay, i'm gonna let you go now."

"ok. wait what-"

you were abruptly cut off because grayson immediately removed his hands, leaving you on your own. being caught off guard, you began a repeat of the night before, but this time attempting to swim correctly. regardless, you were still beginning to choke on water and sink down.

grayson swam back to your aid in an instant, holding you up above the water by the waist.

"shit- i'm sorry. i assumed your instincts would kick in if you had less reaction time."

"oh, because it worked so well yesterday."

"right, perhaps i should've given it more careful thought." he moved a hand to the side of your face, "are you sure you're okay?"

you nodded, unable to verbally respond. the tension in the air thickened as the two of you continued to stare to one another. for a brief moment, his gaze wandered to your lips, and you stopped breathing.

his face slowly leaned into yours. you didn't know what you'd do if he was going to kiss you - a big part of you was ready to kiss back and the other part told you i'd be a mistake if you did.

but the moment was interrupted by alissa, who was calling your name because she wanted to ho over tomorrow’s events with you.

you also knew, based on alissa's critical gaze, she'd seen what was about to possibly happen. she has already given you a fair amount of warning about getting involved with hawthornes.

grayson then pulled away, awkwardly bidding you farewell, saying he'd see you later before he made his way out of the pool.

since then, the brewing tension between the two of you grew. it didn't help you already see him quite a bit during the day, then alone at night. apparently, it was evident to everyone there was something happening because thea calligaris cornered you.

"the last girl who was with grayson ended up dead."

you were unsure what to believe after that, you really didn't trust thea, but didn't mean it couldn't be true. 'don't rich people always have some murderous secret?'

you couldn't help it, and brought up the topic to grayson, who went very still at the mention. he lashed out at you before walking away. you suppose that confirmed it.

he avoided you for a few days, even skipped out on swimming lessons, so you kept yourself busy with school and hanging with avery and xander; solving the still ongoing mystery of the will. which you'd lowkey given up on because riddles were not your forte.

you felt bad your question, but he didn’t need to act so harshly toward you. so, you weren’t going to talk to him until he approached you first.

a knock sounded in your room when you were getting ready for bed. however, it didn't come from the door but from behind a large painting.

'i swear if this house is haunted, i'm running back home'

you tried to remove the painting, but it was stuck to the wall. then you discover a small button hidden on its frame. against better judgment, you press it, making the painting and the wall behind it move forward and slide to the left.

you knew there were various passages, but having one in your own room kind of freaked you out.

behind the moving wall stood grayson. you screamed at first, only seeing a figure in the dark. but then grayson quickly stepped into the light and closer to you to put a hand over your mouth. you were relieved to see him and not someone who would possibly murder you.

he didn’t remove his hand, you gave him an expectant look.

“just hear me out, before you demand i leave. i came to apologize.”

you nodded, allowing him to continue. he sighed and pulled his hand away. then he opened up to you for the first time, telling you about a girl name emily laughlin.

he explained her condition, how both hom and jameson were involved with her, and how she died.

the more the story went on the more you felt bad for both brothers, especially grayson since it seemed it was still affecting him. you even felt for emily, obviously, she lacked something in her life to play 2 brothers.

“i'm not complaining, but why did you decide to tell me all this” the two of you at some point made your way onto your bed, sitting side by side each other

he humorlessly laughs, and looks directly at you. “to be honest, i’m not even sure. all i know is when i look into your eyes, i have this urge to tell bare my soul to you.”

deja vu to the pool incident, you both didn’t say anything, just looked at each other, slowly leaning your face closer.

you were ready to be interrupted again, stopping the act before it can happen. but there was none, and your lips were now an inch apart, and your heart was beating like you just ran a marathon.

“tell me to stop right now, or i’m afraid i won’t be able to hold myself back.”

you said nothing.

wasn't like he gave you much reaction time anyway because he kissed you a second later - like you were the last person he was ever going to kiss.

and oh boy, was it a good kiss.

even when he left your room later that night, after much kissing you were still reeling from the shock of it all.

you didn't know what it meant for the two of you - did he like you?, was it a one-time thing?, or did he kiss you as a way to forget emily?

you were only sure of one thing right now - you felt something toward grayson that crossed the friend zone.

the kiss was never brought up over the days; grayson and you continued to work together and swim at night together almost every other day. you weren't sure if you were relieved or offended he never mentioned it.

you swore he got flirter since the kiss - his hand brushing against yours, standing very close behind you when reviewing something for the foundation, hands wandering when helping you swim, even a subtle flirty remark here and there.

you confided in avery about the events. she was insistent on the fact grayson liked you, and that he didn't seem like the type of have a fling nor rebound.

you wanted to believe he liked you, but then you would hear thea's voice in your head, reminding you of emily, and how he isn't over her.

it was driving you mad, so you convinced yourself you were simply reading into things. you weren't.

it all came to a head at a charity event the both of you helped plan for the foundation. you'd wore a beautiful namebrand designer custom-made gown, the fanciest dress you ever adorned.

however, the whole night grayson ignored you and made it clear he was avoiding you. anytime you approached him he gave an excuse to the person he was talking to that he had to go somewhere. or if you tried making eye contact, he was quick to turn his head the other direction. you didn't know what his deal was.

when you took to the outside for a breather, you sensed the arrival of his presence.

you scoff, "so now you wanna talk to me or what?"

he didn't respond, which upset you more. so you opted to walk back into the ballroom, but grayson stopped you.

"anytime i look at you too long, i think of our kiss that night. then i have to hold myself back from doing it another time. and if i kiss you, i thin- no. i know i won't be able to help but fall for you."

you were again dumbfounded by such confession. a habit that seemed to always happen in the presence of grayson hawthrone.

"i don't mind."

"neither do i."

he crashed your lips together with his in a flash.

unlike the first one, the kiss was messy, and messy was never a way you thought you'd describe the pristine grayson hawthorne.

his hands made their way to your face keeping you close while his mouth was almost devouring your lips. you steadied yourself by holding onto his shoulders because you did not trust your wobbly knees to stand on their own.

you pulled away first, heavily breathing like the night you almost drowned. your mind was still hazy, unable to properly form a sentence to speak.

grayson hands stayed, caressing your face gently,

"you can have my entire being if it means i get to kiss you like that whenever."

you both didn't end up returning to the charity that night. not while your makeup was smudged and all your lipstick was transferred on grayson's face.

though it was never verbally official, the two of you were evidently more than friends at that point.

you didn't even need to tell anyone of your newfound relationship because you'd come to find out jameson had seen the two of you that night, and he would could never resist a gossip about grayson. so the information easily made its way throughout the entire hawthorne manor.

in relation, grayson fought jameson. unfortunately, you weren't allowed to watch the fight because grayson didn't want you to witness any violence. you were lowkey disappointed because you and avery were ready to place bets.

alissa also made sure to have a talk with you both regarding public appearances. she advised it was better to keep it private because everyone was still reeling from yours and avery's newfound inheritance, and this news could possibly do damage to your media reputation. plus, it was better if grayson was advertised as single.

you personally didn't mind, you weren't the biggest fan of pda when you had a thousand new eyes on you. and alissa's advice was wise since you were new to the whole being a public figure thing. and well, you both lived together anyway.

grayson was more hesitant to agree, but mostly for your benefit he listened to alissa.

it was fun in a way, acting platonic in public then kissing when you got to the mansion or even the limousine. it was like having a secret relationship.

whenever interviews tried to insinuate something, you learned how to shut it down after much lessons on pr. but grayson liked to leave sly comments; only the two of you could understand.

"yeah, y/n's quite well at exploring the mouth of new things."

"y/n and i have become very acquainted with each other."

"you could say i'm into women who sink instead of swim."

it made you wanna laugh and playfully hit him all the same.

what really made your relationship step into public light was when rumors about you and jameson dating started circling around.

a photo of the two of you had been taken getting out of a limo together then entering a building, where people rumored you had a 'date'. in reality, both of you were there to talk to skye hawthorne after she was removed from the hawthorne mansion.

grayson was less than happy about these rumors, and jameson not denying anything to the press to get a rise out of grayson, was making things worse.

so, in a grayson hawthorne manner - he took care of things himself. he bought out all of the press and made them debunk the stories.

then to be even more dramatic, the next time the two of you were out together, he made a whole show of kissing you. even going as far as dipping you down in his arms before the kiss - felt straight out of a cheesy romcom. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, though.

the paparazzi had a field day with those photos & the two of your the front page of gossip magazines for weeks. alissa was ready to explode after only finding out the two of you went public from the media.

being in a public relationship was harder than being in a secret one. there were somehow even more eyes on you, picking your relationship apart. they mostly targeted your flaws and even took digs at your old diner job. even a surge of online hate came at your direction.

even grayson couldn't buyout every magazine or person who had a negative thing to say about you, and trust that he very much tried to.

but being official in public also had great pros. now, grayson and you could go out on dates wherever without worrying about hiding and disguises.

you couldn't stay anywhere too far at first because of the 'stay in the house for a year' rule, but you had dates at all sorts of fancy places. even though you were technically a net-worth nigher than him,now, he always insisted on paying the bill. ever the gentleman.

grayson knew how to plan one himself. a personal favorite of yours had to be the picnic in a hot air balloon.

but once the year was up, the first place gray took you was to paris, which he knew was always your dream. paris now seemed like a mundane dream compared to all of the past year's events.

still, paris was absolutely incredible, and being there with your boyfriend made it better - and helpful because he was fluent in french while you barely passed the high school class with a B.

seeing the eiffel tower was the best part, it was even more amazing up close. standing there with grayson, the grays started to cloud, and small drizzles of water came down.

your bodyguard (one oren forcefully implanted) had advised you both to head to the car before it started pouring. you were ready to follow along, but gray tugged your sleeve, stopping your movement.

you gave him a questioning gaze, so he held out his hand, asking you to dance.

you laughed and accepted nonetheless, even when the rain started to pour in more. the two of you began a clumsy (on your part) waltz across the pavement. both of your faces filled with blissful smiles. to this day, it is a favorite memory of yours.

it was even better when grayson gifted you a photo of you two that day, one he asked the bodyguard to take. now, the picture was framed next to the one grayson had taken & grayson hung a copy of it at the hawthorne foundation.

since dating, grayson's insomnia has improved immensely. it mainly had to do with the fact you two frequently sleep in his bed together. he jokes your his personal nyquil.

it's true when they say he sleeps like a deadman, even has a tiny snore - though he keep denying it. but he has some sort of sixth sense that enables him to know when you leave the bed.

like for instance, you needed to use the bathroom one night, and the moment you got up from the bed - grayson is up and asking where you were going.

the swimming lessons were not forgotten - you two still had that nightly routine. but you weren't becoming a michael phelps anytime soon. not when most of your lessons involved more kissing than swimming.

but hey, at least you've moved past the need for floaties. because grayson just carries you himself if it's too deep for you to swim.

he loves to buy anything that reminds him of you. a jewelry piece that matches your eyes, a dress he thinks would look pretty on you, a shift from your favorite film/show/artist, or even an item you offhandedly mentioned you wanted. he'd have them wrapped and ready to give to you the next moment he saw you.

much to our surprise, grayson was also the clingy type. his love language was more gift-giving but doesn't mean he wasn't a bit touch-starved.

he revels in hugs, kisses, and intimate moments. he always wants to hold hands when you both are walking together. jameson and nash love to tease him on it.

he has as a domestic side to him. he helps you put on your coat or even sometimes makes you wear it, keeps you on the side of the sidewalk not near the street, carries your purse or shopping bags, and helping you slip on your heels and shoes.

overall, grayson hawthorne was nothing less of an amazing boyfriend. except when he sees eve for the first time.

you were in the office of the foundation looking over a few files when you saw tobias' name mentioned then initials at the bottom. 'T.T.H.'

"huh, i thought your grandfather didn't have middle name."

grayson looked over your shoulder, "oh, he didn't. at least not until had changed his legal name less than a year before his passing."

"what is it?"

"tatersall. quite peculiar right?"

you laughed to yourself. perhaps he was trying to set you up with her grandson after all.

@itzchanelx @marigold-morelli

[calimelontea]

the octotrio with an inkling!reader

❥❥am I splicing my current hyperfixation into a completely unrelated fandom bc the fresh season just recently dropped?? Yes. Is it going to be kinda awkward bc this is my very first fic on this page??? Also yes 👍But man is it gonna be fun to write, so I hope you guys will have just as much fun reading!

❥ the reader falls into this twisted wonderland unannounced and unprepared, but much to the student body's surprise, this new transfer student was... A squid? A kid?? It was anyone's guess, but for now it was decided that you would reside in Octainvinelle, seeing as you were a cephalopod of some sort. How do you fair in the ranks of the fish mafia?

Category- Fluff ☀

Content- semi platonic, Azul Jade and Floyd, you are an inkling from Splatoon

Azul Ashengrotto

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➼When you had first arrived at the dorm's doorstep, he couldn't deny his interest was piqued! Not only was he interested in seeing that squids had evolved their own little subspecies, but he also saw this as the perfect opportunity for profit!

➼A creature that can continuously produce different colored inks?? He's practically seeing dollar signs...

➼No doubt he'll probably ask for a little share of what's in your ink tank, and in return he'll provide you protection and some benefits in the lounge, (albeit some very miniscule ones. Can't lose too much profit, now can we?).

➼But nevertheless, it couldn't be denied that your presence in the lounge had certainly brightened the atmosphere. Now not only can one make shady business deals, but they also get to watch this strange little squid creature run around and obsess over anything it deems "fresh".

➼Eventually though he would begin to warm up to you and see you as a bit more than a walking money bag, especially after the overblot incident. You offered him a helping hand and a friendly smile, even when he was hardly deserving of forgiveness, and he will always be grateful for that (though he will never admit that a loud).

➼He's always sure to keep watch over you, whether it be him in person or the twins, and if someone dares to cause you any trouble... Whew boy, they better hope they can handle a good squeeze.

➼Anytime there's something you want to show him, you'd better believe he's dropping what he's doing to look (within reason ofc), and if you manage to bring him something of extra value, he's sure to praise you and treat you to something from the lounge's menu.

➼Most of your time together is just you dragging him along to look for something fun to do, and although a lot of times he would rather be back at the lounge counting up earnings or advertising new business opportunities, he just can't say no to that face...

➼Overall he'll likely be your safest bet as long as you're willing to sacrifice some ink and maybe your free will 👍

Floyd Leech

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➼When you first arrived, he just thought you were the silliest lil creature! It didn't matter to him if you were human or squid, he just wanted to squeeze you and play with you.

➼And squeeze you he will, you better be watching your back all times of the day bc this man can and will ambush you with the most bone-crushing hug in existence. You don't even have bones and yet you feel the structure of your very being squashed like a water balloon.

➼He takes a liking to you almost immediately out the gate, assigning you the nickname "squidling" since he already nicknamed someone else "squid", and you change colors way too often to assign a colored type of squid.

➼Instead of you dragging him around, now it's his turn to drag you. Will literally snatch you from wherever you are, whether it be your dorm room or even class, and run off to wherever sounds the most fun in the moment. (R.I.P Grim, you're on your own)

➼Literally has 0 idea what you're saying (inklings speak a special kind of language), but will absolutely pretend to know what you mean. Will have an entire full blown conversation with you even if, with context, the conversation doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

➼Likely will go out of his way to get something for you if he believes it's something you'd find "fresh". Mans is gonna come to your dorm with like 20 shiny rocks, some shirts and a thingamabob or two and you're keeping ALL of them.

➼Can and will try to make you swim somehow due to your squid features. It will not go well.

➼You're probably one of the very few people that can pull him out of his bad moods without bribery or blackmail. Legit just start talking to him about anything random and he'll give you one of those legit scary smiles and squeezes onto you like you've just given him the best news of his life.

➼He's a pretty alright option if you don't mind being a caprisun under a hydraulic press. Just... Stay alert.

Jade Leech

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➼Mans is literally scary, why would you pick him???? /j Much like Azul, he's very curious about you when you first arrive in Octainvinelle, but instead of profiting purposes, he more or less wants to study you.

➼He's very curious about what it is that makes you tick. How did squids evolve to produce a specimen like you? Are there more of you? And if so, have your species formed an intricate society? Where does your language originate? Do you have a similar intestinal structure to humans or merfolk???

➼Bro has probably thought about dissecting you at least 40 times and counting, but because it's heavily frowned upon in a school setting, he's decided against poking around in a squid-kid cadaver. For now...

➼Until then though, he ensures he's as hospitable as he possibly can be, while also leaving some room for learning about your unique culture.

➼This means he will likely be one of the very few students to start picking up on your language, as well as understanding your behaviors/mannerisms.

➼It was during these studies of his that you two developed a sort of trade system. You would bring him some wild mushrooms or any plants that look interesting, and in return he will buy you something "fresh" from Sam's shop, with a reasonable price tag ofc.

➼And due to this mutually beneficial system, it didn't take long for the two of you to become good friends. It wouldn't be very often you would see this tall eel man without his tiny squid companion, especially when it comes to his mushroom garden. Congrats, you have entry to the sporehouse 👍

➼This also means you two get to share your special interests with one another. You get to spend time with him creating mini terrariums and growing shrooms, and in return you can teach him how to play turf war (the second he gets the hang of it you will constantly get your ass beat).

➼He's a pretty sound option over time, but you should NEVER be alone with this man with lab equipment. Never trust a man who enjoys clam blitz.

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace-11

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', mention of sexual assault, old man being creepy (Fred Vasseur ofc), nudity, tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Part 10~Part 12

There is an extremely fine line between want and need. Those born rich believe everything is a need. Oh no, my 14k turquoise necklace hasn't been polished, but I needed it for my gala. Not a want. Need, is something you cannot live without. Need is something that kills you. That burns you when you don't have it.

You need water, or else you'll dry up and turn to ash. You need food, or else your stomach will eat you until there is nothing left of you. You need air or else your lungs will collapse and you drown in your own gooey flesh.  

To you, it felt quite obvious. You need Carlos and Carlos wants you. You need him, or else you would've been kicked out of your apartment. Left to starve as you roam the streets, dirty and unwanted. To ashamed to ask for help, or even tell those who really should be caring for you about your situation.

He just wants you. In your eyes you were just something to keep him busy. To tickle his fancy. Cure his boredom when he's not working his body and mind to the bone. Aid him when the nights become too long. Or show him a good time when it all become too much. He could live without you.  

But, when you think about it, maybe your need was just a want. A tinkle of laziness that your exhaustion had brought fourth. If you were truly honest with yourself, you would've realised that you don't need him. You could easily find a better job somewhere else now that you'd worked your way up the ladder.

You would've been fine. And is his want maybe a need? You thought he was living the extravagant life. Girls on each arm, spending money left and right just for a few laps around the track. But last night, he has shown you the true crack in his walls.  

You see now. The pressure is tough, like the diamonds used to mine more diamonds. The extreme heat the tires are forced to endure. At the end of each race, they crumble and melt. Ripping apart in splinters of their former design. After each race, they're discarded, no reason to use something that's been under that amount of stress, right?

And yet, after each race, Carlos does it again. Billions of people, depending on him, willing him to fulfill their desires. You are the water that cools the heat of mining equipment. The heat gun that warms the tires. The safe haven that he's been needing.  

You see now that you are so much more to him. You see that you need to be so much more for him. He is in need and you must give more. Or else, he might just break and crumble and tear and there will be nothing left of your dear Carlos.  

"Carlos! Wait before you start." He looks so imposing with his whole race outfit on. His helmet makes him look so much taller. You grab him by that very same helmet and pull him down to your level. You open his visor and place a kiss on his cheek. "Pole position, for me?" Now, now is when he blushes. He doesn't answer you, he doesn't make any promises. 

This is the first time you've ever initiated contact. He's always been the first to kiss your forehead. To pull you closer to him. To hug you when you hurt, to care for you when you yourself don't want to. But you've deciphered his words. You see now that he is a chivalrous man who will not touch you, unless you take the first step. That is why you must train your body, treat it with highest honour. He doesn't want to hurt you.  

But as you watch him race by from the garage, and the clock so dreadfully ticks by, you can feel the adrenaline in your toes. All the way up to your heart, beating so loudly you might just faint. "He's doing it!" You yelp, mostly for yourself. It's not like anyone else would listen. Especially with his extremely possessive behaviour all morning. 

He didn't let you out of his site. If he had meetings, you had to wait outside. If he had media, you'd be in the room next door. Walking from place to place, his hand is on your hip. You remember, Ilsa had sent you a video of him at the media conference. You haven't told anyone about yesterday, it's far too private. For you and for him and for no one else to see or hear about.  

"Carlos, this has been an incredibly difficult year for Ferrari. While Charles is quick to anger, you manage to stay positive, how so?" He thought for a moment, licking his lips, combing his fingers through his hair. "My girlfriend, you know she's new to all this. She doesn't know about my failures. In her eyes I'm a superhero. As long as that doesn't change, I have nothing to complain about."  

The checkered flag is waved, time is up. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, and even longer to believe it. He did it. Pole position. He actually did it. The whole garage is overcome with shouts of excitement. Everyone is jumping up and down, hugging each other, clapping hands.

You can see some engineers even want to do the same with you. Feeling moved by the pure elated joy. At the same time, you see the memories of his growls and flares flash before their eyes. That's alright. You barely know them after all. You're not for them.  

Still you join them in the barracks. He climbs out of his car, jumping up and down, you can only imagine how heavy his helmet must be. His eyes search the crowd, needing you. He needs to see you celebrate for him, just the same that you celebrate each time he makes it alive out of the car. Before his team gets their hands on him, his hands are on you. Hugging you tight, as if his life depends on it.  

The sharp steel of the barricade digs into your skin, but you don't care. You'd face the worst pain all just for him. It is so strange to believe how a fight can bring you so much closer together. Anything for him.

"You did it! You did it!" They all scream but Carlos can only hear your voice. He throws off his helmet as fast as he can. Carlos ignores his engineers and team principal. Instead he places a kiss on your cheek, the first return of a more intimate physical touch. "All for you, mi princessa."  

The team principal places his hand on your shoulder, while Carlos does his interview. "Christ, what did you do to him?" He has a wide smile on his face and clearly means it only with kindness, but you can't help but think of how tight Carlos held you last night. Every time you would stir he'd squeeze you. In his sleep he would whisper in fear, mumbling about how he just can't lose you.

And you can't help but wonder how much longer he can keep going with this game you're playing? Not just that, how much longer can he keep doing this job. Just for these moments that come only once a year.  

Yes he's smiling now, clearly beaming with joy. Not even an incline of last night's fear in his eyes. But how much longer can the both of you keep going? Waiting for him to crash into the wall. Waiting for the day that you get the call. Waiting for the day that you break and this relationship too ends in a violent crash.

Is it worth the smiles he has now? That fast paced thrill, is it worth the sudden stop? Because you can't keep racing forever and you can't keep this up forever. When is the point that you are more? More than just a money-spender? 

"Nothing," you shrug, know he won't understand your next words. "I just gave him a kiss on the cheek before the qualifying." The principal gives a boisterous laugh and then puts both his hands on your shoulders. "Well damn, next time why don't you sleep with him beforehand." 

He laughs, but you feel a strange churn in your stomach. The uncomfortable dissociation that every woman has felt. You feel like a toy, a ticket to his success. Like a piece of the card that they'll discard when it stops working. You feel much more  like an object than your very own Sugar Daddy ever made you feel.  

But his scent overcomes you before you can even open your mouth. That classic scent of Dior musk and freshly iron shirts. But now, more than ever, he's got this overwhelmingly masculine scent about him. The sweat from a hot race and the smell of the burnt rubber is all around you.

He's right in front of you. Carlos takes his team principal's hand and rips it off your shoulders. "Don't fucking touch her." Now that his helmet is off, his gaze is so much stronger. Anger, fueled by that similar to the Ferrari car he'd just been racing with. 

He turns around to continue with his duties but quickly stops in his tracks. "Actually, don't ever come fucking near her again." His hands, no longer gloved, reach under your arms and pull you over the barracked. You can't see anything, there are millions of flashes going off. Cameras, everywhere. Perfect, this will be the word on everyone's tongue.

Carlos takes your hand in his and practically drags you to his driver's room. "Carlos, you're being dramatic! It wasn't that serious!" He slams the door shut, you can feel the anger radiating from him.  

He turns to you, not a single sign of anger towards you in his eyes. But the fury is still there. "Not that serious? Mi dulce niña, you're crying." What? He moves in your space, his hands on your cheeks. No, no it can't be. You're over it, it's been more than three years you have to be over it. You sigh, admiring the new Prada heels you’re wearing, while wiping the tears from your cheeks.  

Your shoulders lift and then drop again. “It just brought back some bad memories. But he wasn’t doing anything wrong towards me.” His jaw locks and you can see he wants to say so much more. “Bad memories?” His touch is even softer now, his brows furrow together. “Yes Carlos, every girl has been assaulted it doesn’t make me special.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Who? Tell me now.”  

A sigh escapes you and you take his hands in his. “Don’t do this, Carlos.” He shakes his head, “No, you can’t ask that of me.” You dry up all your tears in an instant. “It won’t happen again. With you by my side, I’m sure it won’t. So, let’s not focus on it, yeah? You have plenty to do, I’m sure.” You can see his mind is torn between you and his driver duties. He could get in a lot of trouble if he stays here much longer. At the same time, he cares so much for you.  

“Okay, okay. Let’s do that. But, if this happens again, you’ll tell me, yes?” You nod, bringing his face close to you and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be okay.” He smiles, forced but still. “Go, go enjoy yourself. You’ve worked hard for this.” This time, the smile is more real as he is reminded of his new victory.   

I speed down the highway, the Ferrari Spider I had loaned for her goes 120km/h. I can see on the dashboard that the car is all the way in 5th gear. Yes, it’s nothing compared to the 360km/h I’m used to, but for her it’s as fast as she’ll ever go. Her hair is loose and wild in the wind. I’ve got the roof off, but still she hangs out of the window.  

Mi cosa bonita has got on the tiny red dress she had shown me the other day. The way she’s hanging, her dressed has hiked up all the way and is one slip up from having me pull over to the side of the road. The cut outs under her breast has a similar effect too. I keep my hand on her calve, to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.  

She’s put on her playlist, the whole car shakes as the speakers boom. She’s screaming every lyric at the top of her lungs. I don’t know any of them, most of them after all are in French. Not that I mind. Seeing her like this, enjoying herself more than ever, her body looking as delightful as can be, is already enough of a celebration to me.  

But as I pull up to the a nearby alcove, hidden away from the public, her eyes grow big. “Is what I think about to happen, about to happen?” She asks, allowing me to take her hand and lead her all the way down to the beach. There is no light but the moonlight. Stars light the path all the way down to the beach waves.  

Crashing down on each other, in a wild tumble and turn. “Carlos, I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” it’s September and there is a cold wind blowing in the air. Not quite Winter yet, but the first sign of it can be found on her pink cheeks. I take her hand in mine, unable to keep my body from hers for long. “I didn’t either, but isn’t it so lucky that we find ourself here after we’ve eaten. By a private beach, where no one can see us?”  

She hums and then wraps her arms around my neck. Her body is pressed up against mine, cold yes, but our friction together forces a warm heat in my loins. “What a strange coincidence,” her lips find my jawline. Placing kisses across my scruff. A delightful feeling that no other should ever be awarded. “Quel est votre plan pour moi, Monsieur?”  

Por Dios, she has me. She has all of me. Nothing I can give her would ever compare to this feeling. “Babygirl, si sigues hablando así, todos mis planes para ti se desmoronarán. Perderé todo el control de mí mismo.” She giggles and shakes her head. “Now we both have no idea what the other is saying.” I too laugh, “I suppose, but you could talk me in ancient tongues and I’d still understand.”  

She laughs and shakes her head, “Okay Shakespear,” my sweet girl lets go of me and turns around, allowing me to unzip her dress. As the dress falls over her shoulders, like water over glass, it is revealed that there is nothing else on her body, but the dress. My hands graze over shoulder, but lips just barely miss her skin as she walks off into the ocean.  

The scene reminds me of a young maiden being sacrificed to the ocean gods. Her beauty being too much for the earthlings to handle. Believing that such a fairness would cure their fish droughts. Am I her guardian? Sent with to ensure that she reaches the gods safely? Or maybe she is one of the Gods and I am only here to worship her. If that is so, it would be the easiest job I’ve ever done.  

At the same time, everything I could possibly do would ever match up to all that is her. Her laugh, her beauty, her kind nature that never wants and only takes what is given and never more. Nothing can be enough, but I will try until the day I die.

“Are you coming in or are just going to watch and stare?” She calls out, just her neck sticking out of the water as she bobs up and down with the waves. Within seconds, I hit the icy-cold water. A shock to all the nerves, more awake than ever. All exhaustion leaving the body as I’m woken, but still, I see she is not a dream.  

My arms reach her waist. Smooth soft waist, so much more skin than I’ve ever before been allowed to see, to touch. My lips find her collarbone, just barely above the water. I need her, I need her more than air. Her soft giggles as my beard tickles her skin. The water soothing the warm ache in my bone, luckily, she cannot see how much I want her as I kept my boxers on.  

“Carlos, I’m very proud of you.” Her soft delicate fingers intertwine in my now wet hair. Her makeup has been washed off, but she’s still just as beautiful. Her gracious up-do has also been wiped clean by the salty water. I cannot say anything that would truly compare to what those words mean to me. “Mi Amor, you don’t know how much that means to me.”  

She pulls me closer to her. Not a word is spoken between us, as we just hold each other. My head in the crook of her neck and her arms wrapped tightly around my head. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist; our bodies pressed tightly against each other. The waves pull and push us from side to side.  

I love her. I’ve known her five weeks now, but that is more than enough. I’ve watched her from afar from what felt like forever to me and now I have her in my arms forever even, if I have to burn the world down. Because this moment is ours and I’ll cherish this each time the world becomes too much.  

New York Times 

“Carlos Sainz’s million-euro watch stolen in front of his hotel.”  

Us Weekly 

“Y/N Y/S/N seen in Gioia Bini on the Paddock.”  

E! News 

“Y/N, Kika and Alexandra seen buying big in Milan.”  

Page Six 

“Carlos Sainz celebrating his Pole Position with a joy ride along with his girlfriend.”  

Glamour 

“Top Five of Y/N Y/S/N’s outfits so far.”  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

My taglist is open, just ask!

[thinkingofchishiya]

can I request some headcanons, chishiya with a reader who's in a different field than him such as (teacher or fashion designer)

Thank you!!

Hiii my love ofc, I really like the idea of him with teacher!reader so i’ll do that one☺️ hope you like this !!

Chishiya shuntaro x Teacher! reader headcannons

•Chishiya and reader working not too far from eachother, but because of your busy schedules he makes every effort to see or call you when you both have the rare time

•him picking you up on your lunch breaks when he’s not busy and either you both go somewhere to eat or if it’s a more hectic day he arrives with food he picked up already and you eat in the car together until one or both of you has to go back to work

•kind of a black cat x golden retriever type of relationship

•Chishiya constantly talking about how he doesn’t want children because of his past, but after seeing you with your students he realises how much of a soft spot he has seeing you with kids

•one day one of Teacher!reader’s pupils bumps into her in a supermarket with their parents and excitedly gives her a big hug, it melted his heart and he jokingly complained of chest pains after the family went away

•especially when you had to go past the baby section to get to the canned goods afterwards (he’s now envisioning himself up at the table with you guys mini me spoon feeding them applesauce while saying here comes the airplane✈️ 🥄) he feels violently sick and doesn’t understand why (it’s baby fever, the man has baby fever)

•him leaving you to sleep as long as possible in the mornings because his shifts start way earlier than yours, but every other morning he quietly rummages through your wardrobe to pick an outfit out for you for the day, when you wake up there’s always a dress or skirt and shirt combo hanging on the door (man has taste too)

•however the favour is always returned when he wakes up in the mornings to find a home-made lunch packed for him ready to take to work, cute bento boxes and his other favourite foods in either a paper baggie or a lunchbox, but whatever it’s been packed in it never comes without a note of how much you love him

•he has a desk drawer full of these notes as he’s unable to throw them away and looks at them at work when he misses you

•has a picture of you and him on his desk and in his wallet, vise versa

•your students always question you about who the mysterious blonde man is in the frame on your desk and you happily tell them he’s your husband (even if you guys aren’t married)

•even though you have a well paying job he still loves to spoil you with his doctor money (rich bf “problems”) so a lot of these aforementioned clothes are actually brought by him

•takes you to work events like parties and dinners with him, introducing you to all the other doctors and the nurses always say how they’ve heard so much about you

•working around kids you get sick quiet often, but not to worry your doctor bf is here to take care of you every single time

•because he usually has longer days than you, you like to make sure the place you guys live in is always clean when he gets home with food ready on the table because he’s had a long day, this also saves time to spend with him when he is home

•after this you guys might shower together, a common occurrence because you both soak up any chance to be together when your both home

•overal a difficult relationship considering your occupations but you both make it work and chishiya puts in so much effort !!!

[latoyalestrange]

CHANCES

Joel Miller x F!OC (fic?)

CHECKOUT THE OFFICIAL FIC ON MY MASTERLIST

Summary: Pre-breakout Joel and Tommy frequent a diner after work. Partly for the food, but mostly for a certain waitress that has caught Joel’s eye.

Words: ~1k

Warnings: age gap (legal ofc), swearing, typical tlou things

A/N: Please let me know what you think! First fic I’m writing in a while. If this is well received, I’ll definitely keep it going for you guys. 

Saturday night. Not quite as busy as Friday, but busy enough to make you question if the money you make at this place is worth it. But Jessie thought the same thing last Saturday, and the Saturday before. It was an endless cycle for her and thousands of other college students trying to make ends meet. 

For Jessie in particular, this was her second shift of the day. Her first was spent at her mother’s hair salon; answering phones and sweeping up ungodly amounts of hair. It was boring, but, god, she wished she was there instead of at the diner.

At this moment, she was trapped in a conversation with a particularly talkative regular. She could hardly even understand him with the countless other conversations going on around her and the crashing of dishes being thrown in bus tubs. She mostly pretended to be engaged in the conversation.

As overwhelming everything was, Jessie kept her cool. She always did. No matter how rude or insufferable a customer was acting, she kept a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. She felt it was the perfect weapon, truly. In a world where being a young woman meant you were at a disadvantage, being overly kind and never letting anyone see they had bothered her was her defense mechanism. 

“Hey, smiles!” 

Ech. Jessie hated that nickname, but it snapped her out of the one-sided conversation she was stuck in. She reluctantly turned to meet whoever called her. To her surprise, it was someone she actually enjoyed talking to. Her smile returned as she left the old man to greet them. 

Tommy and Joel Miller were two of Jessie’s favorite regulars. At least twice a week, they would come in to visit her. Jessie always thought they just really liked the food, but it was hardly good enough to come in twice a week for. They were here for her. Well, Joel was. Tommy was there for moral support. 

“You’re just in time. I thought I’d never get away,” Jessie leaned up against the side of the booth as the two brothers sat down across from one another.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Tommy played along, sharing a knowing look with Joel. 

Joel never talked nearly as much as Tommy. The most he would say was a few awkward lines of small talk and the occasional compliment if he worked up enough courage. Jessie took his shyness as just that. She thought his clumsy conversation starters and stuttered compliments were charming. She found him charming. A family man at his core, good with his hands, and not to mention, he was definitely easy on the eyes.

“What did you get up to today? Anything interesting?”

“Nope,” Joel retorts almost immediately, earning a giggle from her. “How was your day though?”

Tommy looks at Joel, a bit surprised that he actually sounded smooth. When the brothers were younger, Joel had no problem talking to women. After all, he taught Tommy how to talk to women. But it had been years since Joel had even wanted to try dating. He kept himself busy with Sarah and work and he liked it that way. The less time he had to himself, the less time he had alone with his thoughts. 

“Better now,” She almost mumbles, putting her pen to her notebook. “The usual?” Tommy smiled at Joel as he struggled to find the right words for a moment, caught up on what she said. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy replies politely for him. 

“You got it.” Jessie turned on her heel to return to the kitchen and put in their order. She kept a noticeable sway in her hips as she walked away, knowing that the boys are gentlemanly, but they are still men. And she was right.

“What was that. What did that mean.” Joel demands in a quiet voice, looking sternly at Tommy. 

“Dude, she was flirting back! I told you it would work!” The brother exclaims in a hushed tone. A blush instantaneously formed on Joel’s cheeks and he covered it with his hand, playing it off as if he’s smoothing his facial hair down. 

“No fuckin’ way, she didn’t mean it like that.” He looked around nervously to make sure she hadnt suddenly appeared and could hear everything they were saying. 

“She definitely meant it like that. She looked back to make sure you were looking at it too.” Joel kicked him under the table, making him laugh. 

“Shut the fuck up, man,”

“No, I’m serious--”

“No, shut up!” Joel said lowly through gritted teeth. Tommy turned to see Jessie arriving at the end of their table, two coffee’s in hand. 

“Don’t make me separate you two.” She joked, setting the mugs down in front of them. 

“He started it,” Tommy played along, making her laugh. Joel couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“Behave. I’ll be back to check on you.” She turned away again to help another customer. Joel watched her leave again, not in a disrespectful way, but almost as if he wanted to savor every glimpse and angle he could of her. Her silhouette was engraved in his brain and he could picture her face perfectly. Her sunkissed skin from the Texas heat and wavy brown hair was constantly on his mind. 

“You look like a creep right now.” Joel glared at Tommy, finally breaking his gaze from her. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Tommy,” He lets his head fall into his hands as his elbows are propped up on the table. He rubs his eyes and rubs his temples. “I can’t get her out of my head.”

“I can see why.” Joel opens his eyes again to see Tommy looking somewhere out of his field of vision but he doesn’t have to look to know what he’s looking at.

“Don’t look at her like that. She’s not like the girls you go after.”

“Oh, yeah? What kind of girls do I go after?” Joel glared at his brother again as he sipped his coffee now that it’d cooled a bit. 

“She’s different. She’s confident, funny, she’s...everything that I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You are Joel fuckin’ Miller,” Tommy poked a strong finger into his brothers shoulder. “You were swimming in it before you had Sarah.”

“That’s not who I am anymore, Tommy--”

“I know, I know. You’re a man now. And she is a woman.” Joel rolled his eyes and relaxed in the booth behind him.

“She’s…something.”

“I know, I know. You’re a man now. And she’s a woman.” Joel rolled his eyes and leaned back into the booth behind him.

“She’s…something.”

“She’s…something.” 

“She’s...something.” 

[mister-mickey]

Hi, if possible do u think u could do outsiders hc, on the topic of little quirks they would all have? Like for example idk maybe someone has like lots of stuffed toys in their bed, or like someone who enjoy weird food combos ykwim? Love love love ur writing and ty!

Asks tumblr

AH I DIDNT SEE THIS UNTIL TODAY?? lol sorry

Darry

- He used to eat glue 💔

- Like, he thought it tasted really good! His dad had to confiscate all the glue for a month because of him.

- If anyone ever mentions this he pummels them into the ground

Sodapop

- He likes to collect flowers and plants and tear them apart

- Not in a destructive way, in a “I need to keep my hands busy” way

- He especially likes tearing everything except for the spine off of a leaf, it’s his fave

Ponyboy

- he walks in circles while listening to music

- He just paces around the kitchen for actual hours and honestly it worries darry a bit

- He’s having the time of his life though, even if he looks crazy doing it

Twobit

- he refuses to drink things normally, he always chugs whatever he’s got

- His record is 20 seconds for a gallon of milk

- He feels awful afterwards but it’s worth it to him for some reason

Steve

- He still plays with the toy cars that Mr. Curtis got him as a kid

- Secretly of course, but soda knows and just doesn’t say anything

- But he’ll be in his bedroom going “vroom!” With them. He loves mimicking car crashes

Dally

- he LOVES those tiny glass animals!

- He steals a bunch of them every-time he sees them, just because they’re so TINY AND THEY FIT IN HIS FIST SO EASILY

- He doesn’t play with them or anything but he still likes looking at them. He’s got them shoved in his dresser with his underwear.

Johnny

- he collects things from the schools lost and found lmao

- He’s not usually much of a thief, but he can’t help himself. He loves all the weird clothes especially

- Sometimes he wears the clothes he took to school to see if anyone recognizes them (so far nobody has. He would be scared shitless if someone realizes)

Tim

- he doesn’t wear pajamas, he straight up goes to sleep in the clothes he wore all day

- Like, jeans and leather jacket. He has woken up multiple times to see that his arms are both asleep

- He says it’s because he doesn’t care, but he actually outgrew all his pajamas and doesn’t want to get new ones

Angela

- she steals peoples pets

- Sometimes she returns them for money, but usually she keeps them until either they run away or Tim kicks them out

- She’s an animal girlie what can I say. She names them all variations of Angela too (Angel, Angie, lala, etc…)

Curly

- he still sleeps with the stuffed rabbit he had as a kid

- It’s got one ear completely gone because he chewed it off as a kid

- Tim and Angela tease him to no end but he knows they wouldn’t ever tell anyone. He hopes that at least.

Bryon

- mf hates cats

- He’s not superstitious at all, but he’s convinced taht they’re bad luck

- Maybe they just remind him of Angela idk, but he will scowl and groan if he sees one (loser alert!)

Mark

- he loves worms so much man

- He picks them up and holds them in his hand until he eventually drops it. He goes digging for them sometimes

- he is a hero and saves them after it rains! He picks them all up and puts them back in the grass

Cathy

- adores porcelain dolls. She isn’t really a materialistic person, but she used to have one and she still loves them

- The outfits? The hair? She wants one so bad but she doesn’t ever buy one because it’s “a waste” and she’s “too old for them”

- But she stares at them for so long when she’s in the store

M&M

- he gets cold so easily!!! Warm this boy up!

- He wears jacket after jacket but still gets cold, his bed has a million blankets on top, it’s like a mountain

- Ofc, this means winter is his least fave season, this kid turns straight up blue in winter

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 12

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count:   1831

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 12

The trip away with Steve seemed to cement what Melody and Steve had as a committed romantic relationship rather than just two people seeing if they hit it off.  In the handful of weeks since the trip they had started to dot in more domestic dates around their more romantic ones.  They were both still very busy with their prospective jobs, but he’d duck around to the DB to meet her for lunch on any day he was free.  She’d go to the tower after work a few days a week between her time in the office at the DB and her waitressing job.  On her days off she would sleep over at the tower and have dinner and breakfast in his apartment, and despite neither of them being fantastic cooks, they’d make the effort to cook together.  They’d even started doing things like going to the supermarket together, not because Steve needed to, but because he wanted to spend that time with Melody.

The weekend away had also been fantastic for Bobbi and Bucky’s relationship.  While Melody didn’t know exactly what had happened behind the scenes, Melody had told Bobbi that she should be safe telling Bucky that she was a trans woman.  A week after that, Bucky had started sleeping over.

Bobbi was busier than Melody and her moments with Bucky were stolen in the middle of the night.  He’d meet her at work and they’d sneak into the apartment together, and the following day, she and Bucky would often end up catching the train back into the city with Melody.  The development in the relationship did highlight one thing.

Melody really needed to move.

Bucky was such a quiet man in every other aspect of his life.  Snarky for sure.  Flirty.  But quiet.  That wasn’t true for the bedroom.  She could be fast asleep when they snuck in at two in the morning and they wouldn’t wake her until the moans and banging of the bed against the wall woke her up.

The time of sharing a one-bedroom apartment might be coming to a close.

When Bobbi and Melody had first moved to New York, they’d barely had a dollar between them.  They’d found the cheapest possible place they could find while staying on the island of Manhattan and keeping their travel time into Midtown feasible.  That place was the one-bedroom flat in a run-down apartment complex on the Upper West Side.  They’d both needed to work two jobs to cover rent and utilities, and their expendable income didn’t always leave enough for anything else.  Their social lives and whether they ate sometimes came down to the generosity of the people who employed them.  As they’d established themselves more, Bobbi had gotten the better paying and more reliable work and she’d practically been supporting Melody while she tried to make it as a writer.

Now Melody could officially say she’d made it.  Money was still tight, but she was making enough with the column to pay rent and expenses.  With the profile pieces and waitressing work, she was feeling fairly comfortable.  There was a little savings nest growing in her bank account.  Not to mention the Daily Bugle was looking at yet another branching off into online content of a similar vein to BuzzFeed and she’d been approached to work as an editor and curator for it, as she was the youngest person on the team, and she had built a good rapport with quite a few celebrities.  If she took the job, she’d not only be able to return the favor Melody had paid her and support her as she focused more on her acting career, but they might be able to afford to pay for a two-bedroom apartment as well.

Melody was up and dressed, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop writing.  Which mostly involved checking her finances and browsing the internet for apartments for rent while occasionally clicking back on her document link and adding another sentence to her piece.  She had her headphones in playing music a little louder than she normally would because about an hour into her work, that now, way too familiar moaning and banging of the headboard and started up in the bedroom.

It meant that she didn’t notice when Bobbi came out of the bedroom looking disheveled in her mismatched cami set and went into the bathroom.  She didn’t notice when she came back out and knocked on the bedroom door before heading over to Melody and looking over her shoulder.  She didn’t notice Bucky coming out of the bedroom in just a pair of boxer shorts and heading into the bathroom.  So when Bobbi tapped her on the shoulder, Melody nearly jumped out of her skin.

She pulled her earbuds out and looked up at her cousin.  “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I thought you would be with Steve,” she said.  “What are you doing here?  Looking for a new apartment?” 

Melody spun around in her chair and clapped her hands on her thighs.  “I have news!”

“Please don’t tell me you and Steve are thinking of moving in with each other,” she said.  “It is way too soon for that!”

“I’m not moving in with Steve,” Melody laughed.  “Jesus, Bobbi.  He took me out of town to do the deed for the first time, you think we’d be moving in three weeks later?  We haven’t even said the ‘L’ word yet.”

“So what are you doing?” she asked, standing back and folding her arms.

“So I don’t know if you know this, but you and Bucky are extremely loud when you fuck,” Melody answered.

Bobbi yelped and covered her face.  “What?  Oh no! I mean, yes I know but I didn’t know you could hear us!  Oh my god!  Mel!  I’m so sorry!  Oh my god, please don’t move out!  I’ll muffle him somehow.”

“I’m not going to move out!” Melody laughed, taking Bobbi by the wrists and pulling her hands down.  “Look.  When we moved here and I got the internship, you told me to take it and that you’d pay a bigger portion of the rent so I could work toward getting my dream job as a writer. I know you’ve been chasing yours too, but I always said if I make it, I’d tell you to quit your job and take over that part of the rent because it’s only fair you get to devote your time to chasing yours.”

“You know I have been,” she said. “I act.  I audition.”

“Yeah, but you work all the time,” Melody argued.  “And besides - there’s been a development.  The Daily Bugle is branching out into light online content aimed at people in their twenties.  You know - quizzes, silly interviews, the kind of product reviews where you just sit and eat fifty types of cookies in a row and rank them?  And I’ve been asked to head it.”

“Are you serious?” Bobbi squealed, grabbing Melody’s hands and jumping up and down.  “Oh my god!  That’s amazing!  You’re doing it!  We need to celebrate!”

Melody couldn’t help the huge smile that broke out on her face.  She hadn’t told anyone about the impending promotion.  It was new, but Bobbi was the person she told these things to first.  Bobbi pulled her into a hug and rocked her side to side.

“Okay, okay,” Melody laughed, hugging the taller woman back.  “It’s not official yet.  They might decide I’m not qualified enough - which quite frankly would be fair.”

“Still,” Bobbi said, pulling back to look at her. “The fact they even came to you with the possibility is amazing!”

“And it means we can get a bigger place, and if you want you can just have a normal human amount of jobs because I can pay the bigger amount of rent now!” Melody said.

“Oh my god!” Bobbi squealed and started jumping up and down with Melody.  “Can you even imagine it?  We can have an actual living room!”

“And you guys can be super noisy and I won’t hear!” Melody added.  “And you should see the ones I think we can afford.  One is two stories!  And one has a washer and drier!”

“We won’t have to cart our stuff to a laundromat!” Bobbi squealed.

Melody stopped and pulled back, taking her hands.  “And Bobbi… I probably shouldn’t be saying this, partially because it’s still up in the air, and even if I will get the job and even if I do, I don’t know how much final say I get on every aspect,” she babbled.

“What,” Bobbi said, sharply shaking Melody’s hands to snap her out of it. “Tell me.”

“Well we need presenters, and I think I might be one of the people who get to choose.  It probably won’t just be up to me, but if you wanted it, I am fairly sure I could pull strings to get you an audition,” she said.

“What?” she yelped.  “Oh my god, that would be amazing!”

The women began to jump up and down, screaming again, hugging each other tightly.

Bucky stepped out of the bathroom and watched them with an amused expression on his face.  “What are we celebrating?” he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

“Mel is getting a promotion and we might be able to move into a bigger place!” Bobbi said.

“Congratulations!” Bucky said, with a sleepy smile.  “Does Steve know?”

Melody shook her head.  “No.  I wanted to tell Bobbi first.  And it’s not official anyway.”

“He’ll love to hear it.  If you want to call him we can take you out for a celebratory lunch before this one has to get to work again,” he said.  “I mean the two of us can take you if you want to keep it a secret from Steve.  I’ll pay.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Melody said. “But I will tell him.”

“Oh let him,” Bobbi said.  “It’ll be nice.”

“Okay,” Melody conceded.  “Thank you, Bucky.  But nothing too expensive.  Just a diner.”

“You call Steve, and we’ll take a shower,” he said.

He grabbed Bobbi’s hand and pulled her toward the bathroom again.

“Hey, Bobbi,” Melody called as Bucky led her toward the bathroom.  Bobbi looked back at her, and Melody pressed a finger to her lips.  “Shhh…”

Bobbi squawked and broke down into giggles. “I’ll do my best.”

When they were out of the room, Melody relaxed again, closing out the tabs on her phone.  It felt like her life had reached a massive turning point.  She was in a serious relationship.  She had a proper career that was progressing quickly, and she was close to living in an apartment with her own room.  She’d had her break, and everything was falling into place.  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and for a second, she just enjoyed that feeling before she picked up her headphones, put them back in her ears, and called Steve.

// NEXT

[funghettoo]

Unused Minedai idea: friends since childhood

A bunch of ideas that I don't feel like writing an entire fic about.

Little Daigo goes out of town with his parents, but gets bored while they are at a business meeting and runs away.

takes a walk around the unfamiliar city and stops for ice cream. when it's time to pay, he takes out a lot of money and it's clear that he doesn't understand how much to pay and how much to have in change. the merchant takes advantage of this and tries to cheat him by taking more money than he should. at that moment Mine passes by, witnesses the scene and stops to scold the ice cream man, telling him that he shouldn't take advantage of a child. he also advises Daigo on the exact amount to give and continues on his way.but Daigo is too proud to accept the help and gets angry at Mine. Mine is terrified of catching the attention of passersby and making people think he's bothering a rich kid, but he is also proud and is offended by that child's behavior, so he responds in the same tone. "Why are you dressed so strangely?" healso has the nerve to ask. ofc Daigo gets more angry. they argue a bit, in the stupid and naive way that children do, without really caring.

Daigo snorts and complains, Mine calls him spoiled and rude, and a moment later they are on the playground laughing together. Mine is reluctant but Daigo can be really insistent, plus he has the impression that the other child is lost in the city so he wants to help. the man who is raising him at the orphanage has taught him to behave well and be helpful as he can. Mine tries to be a good child, so he stays with Daigo and agrees when Daigo decides to go to the playground. Mine is happy to have the right to be there for the first time. He usually avoids places like that, because children don't want to play with him and their parents look at him badly, wondering what an orphan is doing there. he knows that everyone expects a wrong gesture on his part, just the slightest excuse to attack the orphanage. so Mine always spends his time studying alone. but Daigo doesn't seem to care about his used clothes or his shy character, he welcomed him as his friend and wants to play with him. Daigo is more good and kind than he makes it seem, Mine can trust him.

so they play together, Mine calls him "Bon Bon" and Daigo hates it. Daigo calls him "Taka" and Mine is happy. until the playground becomes too crowded with families with children, Mine clearly becomes nervous. noticing his discomfort, Daigo takes him away. "I'm hungry, let's go have a snack!" he decides. Mine takes him to a bakery he heard a lot about in school. he's never been there obviously, he doesn't have the money for such frivolities. the old man at the orphanage rewards him with ice cream when he is very good at School at the end of the year but it is a secret between the two of them.the pastry shop is also crowded, so while they are in line Mine squeezes behind Daigo's back and clings to his clothes. Daigo wants to offer him a snack but Mine refuses, so Daigo on his own initiative buys him a sweet that Mine was looking at from the shop window. Mine doesn't stop thanking him, he's so happy he could cry...

they eat their desserts, in the meantime Daigo doesn't stop talking about life in Tokyo and a certain Kiryu-san. Mine is very fascinated by it all.after that, Daigo asks if there is an arcade. Mine is having fun and is happy to have found a friend, so he continues to indulge him. Ofc He's never been to an arcade, so he looks around in amazement. Daigo says he's great at UFO catcher but he can't catch anything, so he makes Mine try. Mine catch a bunchan limited edition.Daigo tells Mine to keep it, since he earned it. Mine shyly accepts, it is the best gift he has ever had and it will remind him of his only friend, he will keep it as the most precious thing he has.

but it's getting late, it's time for Daigo to admit that he's lost and has to return to his parents. Mine helps him return to the place he ran away from.when they arrive, Yayoi is already on the street nervously waiting for news from the men who are looking for her son. when she sees him she scolds him for running away but Mine intervenes and politely apologizes to the woman, declaring responsible for Daigo's delay. Yayoi is impressed by this polite child and thanks him for helping her son. Daigo is sad because they have to say goodbye. at that point Mine tells him the truth: "I live in the orphanage in this city, come visit me when you get back! ...if you don't mind it and you still want to be my friend." Ofc Daigo doesn't care and wants to be his friend, he promises he will come back to see him. Daigo actually comes back, the next time his parents have a business meeting he insists on going there with them. this time Yayoi accompanies Daigo, she wants to visit the orphanage.

but they find a bad surprise: the orphanage has been closed, the man who took care of it is dead and there is no one there. Daigo is desperate, he cries and insists on looking for his friend everywhere in the city. the mother can't say no to him and so they search together. they find Mine shortly after in a rough area, living on the street among homeless people.sleeping hugging his bunchan. Daigo runs to hug him. Mine is ashamed to be seen like this, he is left homeless but continues to go to school and manages to live by doing some work. Daigo can't leave him like this. he insists to his mother to take Mine to Tokyo with them. Yayoi seriously considers it, after all why not... many families still adopt a child to raise as a trusted assistant and bodyguard for their heir. so the Dojima family takes Mine with them and gives him the best education. they grow up together, inseparable, and Mine takes his role as Daigo's assistant very seriously.

in the worst moments that will come in Daigo's life, he will have Mine by his side and things will get better.

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 38: Falling Into Place

Summary: They found their way back to each other, but now they have to find their way back to themselves as well. A/N: This took me way too long to write, because I just couldn't get it right, even though I knew what I wanted to happen. But next is the epilogue, and I'm ✨very pleased✨ with that, so hopefully it all balances out Warnings: symptoms of PTSD Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @dcyllom @ithinkabouttzu @mads-weasley @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

Virginia, 1946

Their first week in Clinchco is probably the closest thing that they ever get to a proper honeymoon.

Although Shifty is sometimes in pain, he insists on going into the woods, reacquainting himself with the places that raised him. Despite the winter chill, they climb Frying Pan together and watch the sprawl of blue mountains before them in silence, drinking it all in. These are not the same mountains that cradled Zenie growing up, but she squints out at them, familiarizing herself with their peaks and crevices, already calling them home.

The blanks do not easily fill themselves in, completing the story and wrapping it up in a nice bow. The universe has spent too long throwing them curveballs to stop now.

On the coldest winter nights, Zenie sometimes jerks awake, heart racing, convinced that she’ll open her eyes and find herself back in her foxhole in Bastogne – afraid that the past year has all been a dream and that she never made it out of those woods.

Shifty is usually awake, staring at the ceiling. She curls into his warmth and listens to his heartbeat, trying to drift back to sleep.

On nights when it eludes her and Shifty still dozes, she sneaks into the kitchen and places late night phone calls to Philadelphia and chats with Bill or Babe, neither of who seem to be getting much sleep, either.

It’s on one of those sleepless nights that Babe dredges up ancient history.

“Zee,” his voice crackles through the receiver. “I just realized something.”

“What is it?”

“You remember that night back in England where you danced with that girl in the pub?”

Zenie has to rifle through memories until she comes up with the correct one. There had been a girl, she vaguely recalls, who moved like a fox that allowed her a dance after Babe encouraged her not to waste her night on the sidelines. “I think so.”

“You made me look like an idiot!”

“Because I was such a good dancer?” Zenie croons quietly, smirking to herself in the darkness of the kitchen.

Babe gasps, mock offended. “No! Because I said that it was too bad you weren’t a girl – since if you were, we would have made a hell of a jitterbug team.”

She has to muffle her laugh with her hand so that she doesn’t wake up everyone in the Powers’ house. He had said that. With no clue.

“Anyway, you better get your ass to Philly to come visit me and Bill,” Babe continues. “And when you do, we’re gonna go dancing!”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?”

“Both.”

But in the end, they go nowhere. Not for a while, at least.

Shifty borrows the truck one day to drive into the next town over, eager to go visit an old friend. Zenie kisses him goodbye at the door, then heads out into town to see if she can find a job. Their time at home relaxing has been fun, but she’s spent too long being busy to get used to it. (Besides, the lingering memories of her father never raising a finger haunt her; she refuses to be anything like him.) They need money, at some point, anyway, to get their own house.

She returns home an hour later, smiling in triumph after securing herself a job at the local diner. But it fades as soon as she walks into the yard and sees Shifty sitting on the front step, frowning down at his feet.

“Shifty?”

He looks up, startled. His dark eyes are deep with something that Zenie doesn’t recognize.

“You’re home early.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t go.”

“What?” He had been so excited, even though he was only going a town over.

“I couldn’t go,” Shifty corrects himself slowly. He stands, shaking his head, brow furrowed. “I – I don’t know. I was going down the road, and it was like all the air just left my chest. Had to pull over to catch a breath. And then I just . . . came home.”

“Oh, Shifty.”  She opens her arms, and he falls into them. His breathing is heavy, and Zenie rubs his back. They stay like that for a while, still making up for lost time, still making up for all those months where they didn’t get to hold each other like this. When Zenie speaks, she keeps her voice low, afraid to upset the delicate balance of the little universe that exists between just the two of them in this moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before she feels Shifty shake his head. “No,” he says, breaking their embrace. He sighs. “I don’t even know what there is to say.”

He’s right. What is there to say?

The words for what the end of the war leaves in them remain just out of reach, like a plane passing over in the evening sky, or too deeply entrenched in their hearts to remove, like pieces of shrapnel lodged in a soldier’s flesh. Every time that Zenie thinks she’s found the words, they ultimately fall flat. She always thinks of David Webster, and how he could wax poetic about anything and everything. It makes her wish that she was like that.

But she’s not. So she has to find other ways to express herself. And sometimes the only way she can find to do that is to grab hold of Shifty’s hand and squeeze it like she’s gripping a lifeline. Shifty, for his part, often wraps his arms around her and just holds her, neither of them speaking – just the two of them huddled together, as if they’re the only people in the whole universe.

Things don’t magically fall into place the way that Zenie had once expected them to. Their new lives take some adjusting as new routines develop. They found their way back to each other, but now they have to find their way back to themselves as well.

Shifty disappears into the woods most afternoons. Sometimes he takes Zenie with him. They sit on top of Frying Pan, gazing out at the hazy mountains, their hands intwined. It’s on one of these days that Shifty makes a confession.

“I can’t hunt anymore,” he says quietly.

Startled by his sudden speech, Zenie tears her eyes away from the scene before her. It takes a minute for his words to sink in.

“What?”

“I can’t hunt anymore,” Shifty repeats. He’s still gazing out at the mountains, but a wrinkle appears between his brows as he furrows them in thought. “I’ve tried, but it’s not the same.”

Come to think of it, Shifty usually has his rifle with him when he heads into the woods. But he never comes back with any game. He used to love to hunt.

“I’m sorry,” Zenie says for lack of anything better.

Shifty turns to her, offers her a sad smile. He plants a kiss on her cheek. “Not your fault, Zena. Some things are just different now, and this is one of them.” He exhales, a hard sigh through his nose. “We just have to get used to them.”

And they do.

Slowly, Shifty starts to venture further than the woods. He surprises Zenie by visiting her at the diner one afternoon, and she takes her break so that they can share a slice of pie – blueberry, just like they talked about back in Haguenau – and watch people pass by on the street. When she returns home from work that evening, Shifty surprises her again by announcing that he got a job after he left the diner.

“With the coal company,” he explains. “They aren’t hiring mechanics, but they signed me on to pick slate. It’s a start.”

He doesn’t sound disappointed, but he doesn’t sound thrilled about the menial work, either.

“Shifty,” Zenie says, squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to go back to work if you don’t feel ready.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m ready. There are only so many days a man can sit around at home or walk by the same trees in the woods. Besides, I –“ He stops, bites his lip. He shakes his head again. “Never mind.”

This catches Zenie’s attention. “What?”

An awkward pause ensues in which they stare at each other, Shifty looking like a man who has just painted himself into a corner.

Finally, he sighs. “I’m not goin’ to be the type of man your father is. Sittin’ around at home all day, I mean.”

“Oh.” He’s doing this for her. No one has ever forced themselves to do something just for Zenie’s own benefit or happiness before. She leans forward and presses a kiss to her husband’s smooth cheek. Just by considering her feelings, he’s already leaps and bounds ahead of her father. Her last conversation with Matthew applies here, too. “Don’t worry, Shifty. You’re nothing like him.”

Shifty nods in agreement. “And we never will be. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Slowly, spring comes into bloom all around them. Green buds and colorful shoots reintroduce themselves to the landscape, creeping through the mountains and valleys like a spilled watercolor set staining fresh paper. With the rising temperatures, thoughts of Bastogne and long, miserable days in frozen foxholes subside. Zenie’s sleepless nights ebb away. Shifty begins to smile and talk more. Even though it’s their first spring together in the States as a couple, it feels like they’re returning to themselves as things begin to fall into place.

It's late March. Shifty’s birthday has come and gone, and her own is on the horizon. As the days pass, Zenie finds herself watching the calendar more and more, keeping track of dates as she makes private calculations and risk assessments as she secretly practices speeches that she needs to deliver to Shifty.

The afternoon is clear and bright. Blooming jonquils perfume the air, giving it a sweet quality that Zenie can’t get enough of. A whole company of the yellow flowers rests behind the house, guarding the little creek that runs past. Zenie paces along their ranks as she waits for Shifty to return home from work.

When the rumbling of the truck’s engine comes into earshot, Zenie has to shield her eyes from the sun as she looks up to watch her husband pull into the driveway. He’s going faster than usual. The second he spots her coming towards him, he leans out the window, smiling wide as he waves her over to his parking spot.

“Got a surprise for you,” he announces as he leaps out of the truck. “A couple, actually.”

“I have something for you, too,” Zenie admits.

“I hope it’s pie,” Shifty says. “Because that’s the only thing that could make this day any better.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It might be better than pie.”

Shifty quirks an eyebrow. “Better than pie? That’s some big talk.” He circles to the back of his truck, smile never wavering in his excitement. “Do you remember what we talked about back in Haguenau?”

They talked about a lot of things back in Haguenau. Many plans were made in those haunted shells of buildings. But for the sake of conversation, Zenie just nods. “Yes.”

“Well, you never said what kind of dog you wanted, so I took a chance – “ Shifty opens the back door of the truck and removes a box from the back seat. Almost immediately, a small, dark nose framed with fiery fur peeps over the rim and gives the air a sniff. A glossy auburn head soon follows, and a puppy stares out at Zenie, who tentatively reaches out a hand to scratch it between the eyebrows.

“A guy at work said his dog unexpectedly had some puppies, and I told him I wanted to buy one,” Shifty explains. “Irish Setter.” He tilts his head as he watches Zenie run the puppy’s silky ears between her fingers. “I think he’s cute.”

“Beautiful,” Zenie agrees. “Does he have a name?”

Shifty beams when he tells her, “That privilege belongs to you.”

The puppy is small, but his eyes are large, soulful things. Sunlight glints off his red fur the way that it used to shine off Matthew’s auburn hair on summer days – bright, like a new penny. Bright like the sun, like Shifty’s smile. Nvda means sun, and agaliha means it’s sunny, but none of those seem quite right in explaining how he looks; the color of his fur is deeper, redder . . .

“Degvliga,” she decides.

“Wildfire,” Shifty translates. He inspects the dog, who perks up at the name. “Hey, I think he likes it.”

They get so caught up in playing with Wildfire, watching him roam the yard and telling him that he’s an osda ghili usdi that Zenie almost forgets what she was thinking about before Shifty arrived, and he forgets that he promised her a second surprise.

It’s not until they’re lying awake in bed that night, legs entangled and watching their fingers in- and untwine in the moonlight that reality seems to set in again.

“Adeljuhlvi,” Shifty says dreamily. “California.”

“What about it?” Zenie’s eyes are already half closed. For all she knows, she might have only dreamed that he said that.

The mattress dips as Shifty rolls onto his side so that he can look at her. “I forgot to tell you. A mechanic’s job opened up, but the boss wants to send me to California for it.”

Tired or not, now Zenie’s eyes open wide at the news. She props herself up on one elbow, like looking at her husband from a slightly different angle will make everything clearer. “That’s so far away!”

Shifty nods. “I know. But I’ve been thinkin’ . . . It’s also a lot warmer there. It might be nice, you know, to take a break from winter for a while.”

All the recent sunny days they’ve experienced with the onset of spring have caused her memories of winter to melt away like thawed snow. Now that she considers it, though . . . won’t they just come back with the first cold snap? Who can predict that type of thing?

Even the thought of snow sends a shiver down her spine. Memories of ice and explosions flash through her mind, quick as the shrapnel that tore so easily through the forest every day and every night. At night she sometimes wakes with the images echoing through her mind the same way that screams and gunshots echoed across that frozen wasteland they called Bastogne.

She never wants to look winter in the face again. So she makes up her mind then and there.

“I’m game if you are.” Her voice is strong, steady. “It’s your job, though, so it’s your decision.”

In the moonlight, Shifty studies her for a moment. The slightest incline of his head indicates a nod of agreement. “I think it would be best for us. For now, at least.”

“A new adventure.” Zenie settles back down onto her pillow, relaxed by the decision. “I’ll miss this place, though.”

“I know. But our mountains will always be here.”

“They’ll wait for us.”

“Exactly.”

Funny, she thought the same thing the day she ran away. And when she left home for the last time to come here, to her new home. Maybe she’s destined to think it every time. A reminder of sorts. But a fact – they have been here since time immemorial, and they will be here long after Zenie has come and gone.

“ – to tell me?” Shifty’s voice drags her out of her half-asleep state.

“What?”

“When I got home, you said that you had something for me.” He nudges her affectionately. “And there was no pie at dinner.”

A giggle works its way up Zenie’s throat. It sounds loud and bright in the moonlight and the quiet of the night around them. Through the darkness, she finds Shifty’s hand again and drags it toward her, until his warm palm is pressed against the flat of her stomach.

If all goes well, there are two new adventures that they’ll be going into – together. 

[mercurygray]

One Minor Detail

(My apologies for any geography errors - TOPGUN is in Nevada now but they’re in Coronado? Who knows.)

Jake Seresin x OFC

Rating: M (swearing, sexual situations)

Hangman is good at a lot of things - but minor details might be what get him into trouble.

Some people just didn’t know how to have fun.

It was September, the wind from Loma and the ocean beyond was fresh and inviting, and Jake Seresin was damned if he was going to let a nice night like this pass him by studying here on base. Coyote and Payback waved him off when he asked about going into the City, but the Hard Deck would be dead, on a weekday, and he wanted something...new.

There were a few hip hotels downtown San Diego, the sort of place where a woman with a little bit of money to throw around on a nice vacation or a business trip usually flocked to, without a lot of the shrieking kid clientele of the suburbs, and it wasn’t hard to order a drink and linger at the bar, casually flipping through his phone and looking for likely friends. A group of moms, out for midweek cocktails. A pair of friends unwinding after work and a bad breakup, one of them getting far too sloppy on margaritas until her friend poured her into a cab. A single woman at the bar, casual over her very unfussy beverage, slowly browsing her phone. Something about the way she commanded the space around her left him curious.

He moved towards her end of the bar and let the bartender help the very large crowd of conference attendees who’d just decided to jump into the other end of the space, all of them talking loudly about office furniture.  “Man, did you get stood up, too?”

She looked him up and down, t-shirt and jeans and his leather jacket, and raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think's going on here?” 

He gave a casual shrug. “Well, beautiful woman, at the bar by herself - has to be a story there. And if I'd asked you out I sure as hell wouldn't have missed our date."

She smiled and stirred her drink for a moment. "No date - I'm in town for a bit for training. Visiting some family while I'm here."

"And they don't let you stay over?” He tut-tutted. “Some family."

"This is easier for everyone. So - are you stationed at North Island, or is Fleet Week early?" She gave a slightly stiletto smile. "There's no way you're not Navy."

He gave one of his best aw-shucks grins, proud that he could be that obvious, even if it didn’t seem to mean much to her. "I'm not stationed at North Island - I'm at TOPGUN."

She chuckled. "So that’s how it is. My father always told me to stay away from pilots."

"And do you do everything your father says?" Her eyes were dark, and terribly inviting. "It's Jake, by the way," he offered, holding out a hand. "My friends call me Hangman."

"Laura," she said, returning the shake. "And I'm not sure we’re friends yet."

–

Her room, she mentioned casually, after they'd finished their drinks and his hand had explored her knee a little, was on the tenth floor. His jacket lasted until the second, and the implication that he was in charge until the eighth. He was having a real good time grinding her into the wall until she took the lead and shoved him into the corner of the elevator, her hand palming the front of his jeans while she smiled into his kisses and made an appreciative noise.  

"Is that why they call you Hangman?" she said, her eyes meeting his for a moment.

"You should really find out for yourself," he replied.

It was all going according to plan - him naked and her getting there, the only thing left the tasteful midnight blue panties and brassiere she was wearing before, her on her back against the pillows with her knees up around his sides, and then she intertwined her fingers in his like they’re going to be cute about this and rolled, and suddenly it was a different ballgame, with her looking down at him.

"Simmer down, sailor," she ordered, her knees powerful around his hips, hair loose. "My room, my rules."

And there was something about being ordered that did things to him - things she only grinned at, holding his hands over his head as she moved, almost gently, over his naked cock, teasing him with the feel of her panties and the wetness there, her kisses suddenly light and teasing. "Bet you thought this was going to be an easy night, mm?"

The groan came out before he knew it was on his tongue. Well, fuck me…

The word ‘surrender’ didn’t really exist in his vocabulary, but that’s kind of what he did, the same way he could fall back into routine inside his plane. When they were done, and she was still atop him, panting and flushed and pleased, he decided he was really going to need to step his game up, because she was magnificent and intoxicating and he needed more of it like he needed air. There has to be something that will stop this woman in her tracks. This…this game that they were playing had really tapped into his need to win, and now, the thing he wanted more than anything else was to hear her say his name, to hear her beg for something. (Because he knew she wasn’t someone who begged, any more than he was, and he’d begged a little, near the end, when she stopped moving before he’d climaxed and just let him suffer for a minute,  please, Laur, Laurie, baby, please.)

Coming down from that was like landing a plane - that slow taxi back down to earth. And he just wanted to…sit a minute, in it, the afterburn, letting the engine cool.

She, on the other hand, had other plans. Most women would come in for a cuddle, a kiss, a yeah, baby, that was great but…not her. No one needed to tell her it was good - and she sure as hell wasn’t telling him. (Why was he disappointed by that?) She took a moment to catch her breath and then made her way to the bathroom to pee. He heard the sink running - washing her face, too, maybe? - and felt a little abandoned here in her hotel bed.

Anonymous was fine, most of the time, but there was something about her that left him wanting more. He wanted to know more about this family she’s visiting, what she did for work, why her father had told her to stay away from pilots. The hotel room was empty of clues to a further life outside her suitcase.

She came back in and began picking up clothes, tossing his on the end of the bed. “You can shower, if you like. Before you go. ”

“What, we’re done?” He sat up a little, leaning back on one elbow, still a little hazy in the afterglow. “Give me a little while and I’ll be good for a second round.” Maybe we can go a little slower and I can make you beg.

“Isn’t it a school night? I don’t want to make you late for class.”

He smiled to cover up his surprise.  Jake Seresin didn’t just get kicked out of booty calls. He was the one who’d decide when he left and when he slept over. But this wasn’t a negotiation. She didn’t join him in the shower, either. What is this woman’s deal? 

When he came back out of the shower, she’d cleaned the room up a little and was sitting in the office chair in the corner with a stack of papers in hand, wearing a t-shirt for some fundraising run in San Diego and a pair of sleep shorts, her legs long and tan propped up on the edge of the bed. And it…kind of killed him, a little, that there was this option here - this very domesticated version of the tigress he just went one very heavy round with and amazingly didn’t seem to want more. Part of him wondered what it’d be like to show up to this every night after work, the woman in the t-shirt with the bedhead. “Maybe I could see you again?” he asked, picking up his jacket from where he dropped it near the door. “Don’t know…how long you’re in town.”

She made a noncommittal noise, and he grabbed a pen, writing down his cell number on the envelope from her plane tickets she’d left next to her keycard and her keys, and let himself out.

The ride home with the wind in his face wasn’t nearly as sweet as it usually was.

–

The Admiral was waiting with their instructor in the hangar the next day - it was a field practice, time to get flying hours in instead of the usual classroom instruction. Captain Jones, their instructor, looked like he kind of minded the extra supervision.

“So, did the Hangman get lucky last night or what?” Coyote asked, leaning over in his seat with his pencil flying between his fingers.  “Heard the door close before midnight - little early for you.”

“I did just fine, Javy, thanks for asking. How was jerking off to the textbook again?”

Coyote snorted. “Chill, man, it was just a question. It’s early in the week.”

Jones cleared his throat, calling the class to order. “It's one thing to face off against pilots you know - and another to face a pilot you don't. Rather than flying against another classmate, your bandit today is a TOPGUN graduate from last year's class who happens to be visiting us this week - Lieutenant Simpson, callsign Honda."

"Honda?" Payback repeated the name like he hadn't heard correctly.  "What, like he's reliable or something?"

"Or she flies like she's driving a minivan," Halo inserted quickly.

Fanboy leaned back in his seat and grinned. "You don't make it to Top Gun bussing kids to school, man."

"All excellent guesses," a voice from the back offered, and the room turned. Hangman blinked, crossing his arms and covering his mouth with a hand. Son of a b- 

Laura, for her part, looked incredibly pleased with herself, flight suit immaculate, sunglasses tucked into the front of the collar. And she’s hot as hell in a flightsuit, too.  "As you all know, callsigns are given during training and sometimes commemorate a mistake or a bad habit. Mine was …gifted to me by a family member. The Admiral neglected to mention one minor detail in my introduction." she said, a smile evident in her voice as she walked to the front of the room. She tapped a small slip of paper onto Hangman's workstation - a post-it note in permanent marker

HONDA - Hands Off; Naval Dad and Aviator.

"He also happens to be my father."

Hangman looked at the note, crumpled it into his palm and sat back in his chair, his only option left to grin at the woman in front of the room, feeling well and truly fucked. Laura Simpson. In town for training, my ass. Of course your father told you to stay away from pilots. Suddenly the Admiral in the back of the room seemed much more of a threat.

"So," she said, smile still cutthroat. "Who wants to go first?” She looked around the room and her eyes, as if by pure chance, lit on him. “Rainman, is it?" 

"Hangman," he replied through gritted teeth, and the smile he got back in return was almost enough to make him regret last night - almost.

Now he really needed to win.

[comments, tags, and anon messages are read, appreciated, and help me write more! The rest of this story is under the same name and username on AO3!]