#i didn’t even MENTION june god i miss june!!!

[rynliadon]

the R-rating for red white and royal blue is made so much worse for me with the fact that the filmmakers played it SO safe. there was no rafael luna & richards campaign subplot (politically controversial), none of bea’s past as the “powder princess” (god forbid we acknowledge that drugs and addiction exists), alex & henry are outed not by political players but by alex’s spurned reporter ex (which was completely nonsensical to me? how did this twenty-something hack government email servers?), even the fact that ellen claremont was divorced was removed. for the life of me i can’t recall when a single swear word was said. the very few sex scenes didn’t warrant that R-rating. it’s so clear that it’s just about the fact that it’s a queer movie, and i wish that they had been able to do more, because i get the sense that these elements were cut because someone was worried they would be “inappropriate” for this movie, not because they were focused on making a true adaptation.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass. 

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself. 

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay.  Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment. 

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships. 

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell. 

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks. 

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window. 

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically. 

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown. 

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?” 

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt. 

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly. 

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.” 

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked. 

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.” 

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all. 

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other. 

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two. 

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.” 

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust. 

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon. 

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes. 

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock. 

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter eleven:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of losing weight, mentions of drug use, mentions of toxic family and sad thoughts, hurt/comfort.

➴ word count: 3.1k

💌 from me to you: and, somehow, the world starts spinning again for our little madison. thank u all for reading and i promise, no more tears from now on!

౨ৎ

2024, JUNE.

“MADISON, RELAX your shoulders and give me a soft smile. Let your eyes do the talking, imagine you're sharing a secret.”

You do as the photographer— you didn’t bother to learn his name— says, posting for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

Going to work now felt more like a chore than something you actually enjoyed doing, and you hated every second. People constantly looking at your body and talking about it made you feel terrible, your mom’s harsh words still wandering around your head like one would do at a park.

The medicine bottle sitting heavy inside your purse, just the thought of it making its purpose work: all your hunger vanished, leaving you with a pounding headache and tears in your eyes.

Your semi-fight with your mom happened exactly three weeks ago, basically when you’d just arrived from Newark, and everyday for three weeks straight you have been swallowing these pills, once a day like clockwork.

No one beside your mom knew, and you would like to keep it that way. It was already enough to have the tabloids talking about your body all the time, and you’d much rather keep all of this to yourself than to share it with the whole world.

People would know about how shitty your life actually is, and then it’d be over.

Quinn would know the truth about you.

The last time you saw Quinn was also three weeks ago, and God knows how much it hurts you to say this. You wanted nothing more than to be near him, kissing his lips and drowning in his hugs. You are now sure that Quinn Hughes is the love of your life and no one would ever be like him.

And it hurt whenever you had to turn down one of his invites, or when he called you and you gave him excuse after excuse for not picking up.

But you didn’t want to drag him into this mess that you called life. You didn’t want your mom to see you together and end up doing something to him or his family, because your dad’s still a powerful man inside the NHL, and you knew your mom had her way of getting things done.

And you would never do something like that to him. Or his brothers, for that matter. You loved them way too much and sometimes, loving also means letting go.

“That’s perfect, Mads. I think we’re good to go,” the man smiles, raising his camera for the last time before nodding at you, releasing you from posing, like you’d been doing for the past four hours straight.

“Thank you,” you breathe, leaving the room so you could change into something more comfortable and go home quickly, because you missed Bella a lot and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her.

As you put on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt, you thought about how much your life changed in such a small amount of time. It was summer now, the days were getting longer, and what was supposed to be your favorite season, turned into your least favorite one. You watched as people walked around the city with smiles on their faces, hands intertwined with their significant others, laughing at everything, and you couldn’t help but feel jealous of them.

Jealous of people and their normal lives and normal relationships. Jealous of the daughters who have loving parents, and of the sisters who have real brothers. Jealous of people who have never looked at a mirror and hated what they saw.

And feeling like that, all day, everyday, was tiring. Exhausting, even. You felt like the worst person to ever exist, because you had everything a girl could want, yet still, at the end of the day, you’d always end up crying alone in your bedroom, silently so Bella wouldn’t notice.

“Bye, guys, have a nice weekend,” you wish to the workers, receiving a bunch of smiles and “you too” as you walk past them. You were so glad Victoria was away for Buenos Aires’ fashion week, because that way you didn’t have to explain to her why you never ate lunch anymore.

You walked towards the front of the building, waiting for the driver to come pick you up, since you didn’t bother getting a car.

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Quinn’s cologne reaches your nose before his voice reaches your ear, making you freeze in place, not daring to turn around. “Madison.”

You could hear his steps getting closer, and you mentally curse the driver for not being punctual, ever.

“Madison.” He calls you again, making you finally look at him, losing all your breath in the process.

Quinn looked unreal. He had a faint summer tan on his cheeks, his blue eyes so blue that they reminded you of the ocean. His white, dress shirt had the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons open, and he wore a silver chain around his neck. His hair looking fluffy and long, the curls finally making their comeback after an entire season hidden behind his helmet.

“Quinn,” you hear yourself say, licking your dry lips afterwards. Saying his name out loud after weeks felt weird, and it reminded you of the seven years you spent without even thinking of saying it out loud. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you, since you don’t reply to my texts or calls anymore, and the only thing I got from your apartment was Bella’s howls.” He puts his hands inside his pockets.

“You went to my house?” You ask, shaking your head. “What if someone saw you? Or worse, what if someone saw you and snapped a picture of you there? What were you going to do?”

He frowns, the sight of it making your heart hurt. “What do you mean? People have seen us together before and it didn’t bother you. Why are you bringing this up now?”

You were about to answer, when Christian, your driver who looked old enough to be your grandad, beeped, parking in front of La Vie en Rose’s building.

“I have to go—”

“You’re not running away again, Madison,” he hisses, walking towards the expensive vehicle. “She’s coming home with me. You can go now.”

“Quinn—”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine, promise. Have a nice weekend.” He smiles at the driver, and you watch as Christian nods at you and drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk with Quinn. “You should probably ask for a new driver, this one would watch you get kidnapped and not do anything.”

“You’re crazy,” you whisper, stepping back. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Quinn, people will—”

Quinn interrupts you, stepping closer and standing toe to toe with you. He looks down, staring at you with dark eyes. “I don’t care about them, and you already know it. I care about you. So you either tell me the reason for all of this, or I swear, baby, I’m not leaving you alone ever again.”

I don’t want you to, you yell at him inside your head, fighting back the stupid, stubborn tears who fell down more and more lately. I don’t want you to ever leave me alone. I want you to stay with me until our time is up, and then some more after that.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the sidewalk,” you give in, knowing it was better this way. Rip off the bandage at once.

“It’s alright. I know the way to your house.” He smirks before turning around, waiting for you to be by his side so he could walk you both to his car.

The drive had been silent, the only sounds coming from Quinn’s expensive radio, some playful, pop song playing in the background. You stare at the view in front of you, realising that Vancouver’s traffic is always the worst at night; but at least it gave you extra time to think about how you were going to tell him that you couldn’t see him again.

You made up at least thirty scenarios in your head, and all of them ended entirely wrong. It was like you were reliving that day in September, seven years ago, when you saw Quinn for the last time before he moved.

You opened the door for him, watching as Bella jumped on Quinn like he was her Lord and Savior, licking his hands and barking at him, asking for nose boops as she always did whenever she saw him.

“Hey, cutie, I missed you too,” he whispered to her, as you placed your purse on the coffee table and watched the two of them together.

As Quinn pats Bella’s tummy, you feel your heart shrinking inside your chest, so small it could be compared to a pea.

I’m going to lose all of this forever, you remind yourself, feeling sick to your stomach.

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t notice that Quinn had stopped caressing Bella’s fur and was now standing in front of you, leaning against your wall.

“You lost weight.”

His statement takes you by surprise, making you arch your brows. “Yeah, I did.”

“Are you eating enough?”

“I— why are you asking me this?” you frown. “You never asked questions about my body before.”

“Because I didn’t feel the need to. But it’s clear that you have lost a decent amount of weight in a short period of time.”

“Three weeks isn’t a short period of time, Quinn,” you roll your eyes.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You can’t be serious, Maddie.”

You sigh, choosing to remove the band-aid at once. It was better to hurt him once, than continue to hurt him again and again with your actions. “Quinn, we can’t— we can’t keep seeing each other like this.”

It was like he lost all of his emotions in a second.

“What do you mean?”

“It won’t do us any good. I’m leaving Vancouver in three months and it’s better if we stop seeing each other now than later.” You try getting away from him, only to feel his hand gently grab your arm over your sweatshirt. “Quinn—”

“No, Madison, you won’t say shit like that and then run away. You’re going to explain what happened to me, now.”

“I can’t—”

“Was it Luke? Was it someone at Jack’s party?” He asks, blue eyes making you regret all of your life choices. “Did someone, anyone, tell you anything? Maddie, talk to me, for God’s sake!”

“What difference would it make, Quinn, tell me?” you laugh, not finding anything funny at all. “We can’t be together. I’m leaving, which part of that didn’t you understand—”

“I’m not fucking losing you again, Madison,” he says through his teeth, tightening his hold on your arm. “You’ll have to say to my face that you don’t want me anymore to make me leave.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” you plead, trying to free yourself from his hold. Unsuccessful. “Quinn, please.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard, baby, just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll try to make it right,” he says, voice so soft you almost felt like he was telling the truth.

“You can’t do anything about the problem if the problem’s me.”

Your eyes were stinging, and you finally got yourself out of his hold. Quinn’s face portrayed the most beautiful shade of pain, and you wanted nothing more than to yank it out of his face.

“Maddie—”

“I don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, but it’s the truth,” you sob, covering your eyes with your hands. “I’m not the kind, good person you think I am, and I don’t think I’ve ever been one.”

He shakes his head, ready to interrupt, only for you to start talking again.

“I only hurt the ones I–” you swallowed dry, once again confirming that Luke was right. “I only hurt the people I love, and I won’t do that with you or your brothers too.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” He steps closer to you, knocking your purse on his way to you.

And you watch it all unfold in front of you, everything happening in slow motion— your things scattered on the floor, the pill bottle comically rolling around until it stopped at Quinn’s feet. You watch as he bends down, grabbing the half empty bottle carefully before reading its label. The realization on his face when he connected the dots.

And you’re sure that, as long as you live, you’ll never forget the devastated way he looked at you. You’ll never forget how his eyes, so shiny earlier that night, turned into a shade of blue so dark it was almost black.

“Madison,” he whispers, holding the little orange bottle tightly between his fingers. “What… what are you… why do you have this?”

“I– I need it,” you stutter, fidgeting with your fingers, the turmoil inside you growing like waves did during a storm. “Quinn—”

“This is how you lost all that weight so fast,” he mumbles, looking at the bottle again. “Are you taking these?”

“Quinn, it wasn’t my first choice, I swear—“

“What are you doing to yourself, Madison?” He looks at you again, and you can see that his eyes are starting to get wet, just like yours. And you hated yourself for making him cry. “What have you been doing to yourself all these years?”

You once asked yourself the same thing, but when you couldn’t find an answer, you just gave up. It wasn’t that serious anyway.

But it seems like that for Quinn, it was.

“This isn’t okay, Madison, why the hell would you do this?”

You looked at the floor, feeling a new wave of tears forming in your eyes.

You were so tired.

“I don’t have to explain it to you,” you chuckle, not bothering to wipe your tears. It’d be pointless. “Someone like you would never understand why I did this.”

“Someone like me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He spats, throwing the bottle on the floor, the sound of it making you flinch.

“Someone who always had people who loved you for what you are!” You yell, finally giving Quinn what he wanted: an answer. “Someone who grew up with parents who loved each other, someone who has two brothers who would die and kill for you without asking for anything back!”

“Madison—”

“No, Quinn, now you’ll have to listen to me. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You scoff, pacing around the room. “My family hates me. My brother hasn’t spoken to me in ages, my dad doesn’t even care if I’m alive or not and my mom—” you gasp, trying to even your breathing. “My mom was the one who gave me those pills. She said I’d make her so happy and proud if I took those things and I did, because I wanted her to finally feel something for me that isn’t just disgust!”

Your head was pounding and your body reminded you that the last time you had eaten something had been more than twelve hours ago.

“I wanted her to finally love me, I wanted someone to see that I’m fucking trying, but I’m so tired, Quinn,” you lowered your voice, hiding your face between your hands. “I’m so tired of feeling tired all the time, I’m tired of feeling like what I do isn’t enough, and I’m tired of starving myself just to have people to look at me the way they do,” you sniff, hating yourself for breaking out like this in front of him. But what else could you do? “I’m tired of those fucking pills. I can’t stand them anymore. I promised my mom that I’d go to her gala next week, and that I’d be perfect for her but I’m so. Fucking. Tired.”

You could hear Quinn’s steps around the living room and you felt yourself panicking, your mind tricking you, like it often did, making you think that he was going to leave. But as soon as you felt his strong, warm arms around you, hugging you tight, you were reminded of why you loved him so much.

You cried in his arms, hugging him back like your life depended on it. Because, at the moment, it felt like it did.

“Shh, sh, it’s okay, baby,” he softly says, placing your head on his chest, gently brushing your hair with his fingers. “My sweet girl. I’m so sorry.”

You sniff, holding him tighter before opening your mouth again. “W–Why are you sorry?” Your voice sounds hoarse and confused.

“Because I didn’t do anything sooner,” he whispers, kissing your head. “I saw all the signs and I still stood there without moving a finger, and I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

“Quinn—”

“You mean so much to me, baby. I’ve been looking for someone like you my entire life and when I finally found you, I let you go away, and I’m not making the same mistake twice,” he slowly separated you from his body, but still kept you close. He lifts your chin, wiping your cheeks with his thumb. “Let me take care of you, Maddie. Let me show you how perfect you are, let me make you stop treating yourself like this.”

“This is the only life I know,” you tell him, losing yourself in his cologne. He smelled like home. “They’re the only family I have. It’s not that simple—”

“You know that’s not true, baby,” he kisses your cheek, lips touching your skin carefully. “You have my family. My parents love you, and so do my brothers. And I do too. I love you so fucking much, Maddie. You’re it for me.”

It’s like the broken pieces of your heart finally find their way back together. It’s like you came home after months sailing in the ocean, lost between the waves and your helpless thoughts.

“I may not be what you want.”

You feel his chest moving at the same time you hear his chuckle. “Can’t you see, baby? You’re the only thing I want. So if you’ll have me, I’m yours to keep.”

You look up at his eyes, softening your features, the tiniest smile to ever exist adorning your face. You finally kiss his lips, the saltiness of your tears mixing with the taste of his minty toothpaste, and you could swear you almost melted.

“I want to keep you,” you mumble against his lips. “I want you all to myself. I don’t care if I sound selfish or not but I’m tired of not doing what I want. I’ve been in love with you for eight years now and I can’t— I don’t want to hold back anymore. I’m not perfect, I have tons of flaws and I’m not easy but I swear, baby, I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you.”

He kisses you again, pillowy lips briefly touching yours.

“I love you, Maddie. So much. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Thank you for getting me back again.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[toournextadventure]

our little secret pt.v

Summary: Letters to you.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, mention of possible suicide (slight mention, nothing happens), mental instability, mental spiraling, religious talk (Southern Christianity) Pairing: Lorraine Day x Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this is like a little filler, just having fun trying out something different. Don't worry, there's still a giant chapter left! Also? When Lorraine signs the letters to you, she puts a little heart over the i <3

June 15th

I thought you said you’d always be waiting. But I come home to hear from your momma that you’re on a vacation with Roy? Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would have given you a proper goodbye.

It’s probably a good idea, though. Roy could definitely use the break and I’m sure you can too. I know the past few weeks have been… rough. I’m sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen. But we can talk more about things when you get back. For now, make sure you have some fun, okay?

Your momma said y’all went out West. If you could write me back and let me know where, maybe I can meet up with you. We can have a proper vacation for once. Do y’all have any real plans, or are you just traveling? I’m sure either one will do the job. You always did want to get out of town for a bit.

Our shoot went well. Max and Bobby-Lynne asked about you the whole time. It doesn't sit right with me when they're constantly checking up on you. Maybe I'm just jealous. It's probably nothing compared to how you feel. At least they mean well, I suppose. They send you their love. Maxine sent… a little more than love, but I’m not telling you about that.

By the time you get this letter, it shouldn’t be too long before you’re back home. I’ll be here waiting for you, okay? Don’t forget to send me some postcards. And if you find anything cute, don't forget to buy it for me! I'll pay you back, I promise.

I'll see you soon.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 29th

Having too much fun?

We all thought you'd both be home by now. The 4th is next week, you know. We never miss the 4th. Daddy said he would cook out this year. He's making your favourite and Beau and Huck got the good fireworks. We can take the truck out and watch the show, just you and me. RJ will be out so we can be free for a bit. That’ll be nice, right? A nice little break. So you better not miss it.

Speaking of, Beau isn’t too happy that you’re not home yet. He’s been doing a lot of pacing and mumbling a bunch of nonsense. I think he’s being a bit dramatic. He’s not happy that you left without letting him know. Said he could have told you a few places to go to be safe. I think he just misses you. We all do.

We haven’t been out to a shoot for a while. I’m glad. It hasn’t been the same since RJ proposed. Nothing has, really. Things just don’t feel the same. There’s guilt in everything I do now, I don’t know how to explain it. I just don’t feel comfortable with anything, even daily chores. Did you ever feel that guilt? The one that sits deep in your belly?

On a brighter note, Jimmy and Liz are back in town. They seem to be doing good. And no, they’re not pregnant, thank God. It’s a modern miracle. They had hoped to see you before the summer is over. Of course they will though, it’s not even July yet, the summer is still young. Besides, I know no vacation is more fun than hanging out with us, right? Even Roy would agree, I know it.

Momma is calling me to dinner now, so I’ll wrap it up. I’ll see you on the 4th, okay?

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 23rd

Hey darlin, I think it’s about time you came home. You’ve more than missed the 4th, and Lorraine ain’t too happy. It’s the first time you’ve missed a holiday, you know? It ain’t like you. I know this ain’t the happiest place for you right now, but your family is here. We’re all here.

Where’d you go anyhow? You and Roy are homebodies, y’all don’t know anybody out West. If you really wanted a vacation, you could’ve waited for us to get home. We would’ve taken you. I’m sure Lorraine would’ve been happy to go too. We could’ve had a double vacation, you know? Like we always talked about?

Huck and I won our competition the other day. Wish you had been there to cheer us on. We wiped the floor with everybody. Best team ropers in the South, just you wait. You’d best come home for the next one. I’d hate to get too popular for you to notice us, you know?

I’ll keep Lorraine calm and happy, but I really need you to get home, darlin. It’s a bit past time to be concerned. At the very least, send us a letter back. I can handle you being gone for so long if I know where you are. I know this isn’t a happy place, but we’re still worried about you. We can make it a better place again, I promise.

Just send me something back, okay? I’d appreciate it.

Love you, Beau

—---

August 12th

Hon, I really think you need to come home. Lorraine and Beau are losing their minds. No one has heard from you or Roy since you left, and your parents don’t seem worried at all. Your momma seems the slightest bit concerned, but your daddy isn’t. Everyone is just acting weird, so you need to come home.

Jim and Liz left for seminary again last week. They were mighty upset they didn’t get to see you before they left. It’s been about since Christmas since y’all were together, right? They miss you both. Y’all are family. Maybe try to write him while y’all are gone, I’ll write his address at the bottom in case you don’t remember.

If I have to listen to Beau and Lorraine ask where you are one more time, I’m going to lose my mind. You know neither one of them knows how to be patient or think logically. They have a single bad thought and run with it. I need you here to help me calm them down, because you’re fine, just taking a break from everything.

No one blames you for taking a break. After everything… it’s the least you deserve. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Lorraine asked the other night if this is her fault. I told her it wasn’t. We all know that girl loves you to the moon and back. And we all know you love her back. Things can be worked out, but you’ve got to come back home first, okay?

After all this, you had better be having the time of your life, darling. I’m going to assume as much since you’re not answering anybody. Hey, if you can’t write back, can you at least give us a number to try and call you at? Beau said he’d pay any long-distance charges, he just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He’s playing the part of a dutiful boyfriend, you know. Everyone thinks it’s romantic. I know he’s just worried about you, but it’s weird to hear everyone giving him their sympathies. Is this how you feel when everyone talks to Lorraine about RJ? Like you’re in second place in a race you hadn’t wanted to compete in? Because if so, then I think I understand you a bit. It’s… not a nice feeling.

Ah, I won’t get sentimental. We can talk more when you get home. I think I understand you a little better. That’s kinda sad, isn’t it? Took you leaving for me to get a better grip on your feelings? Well, just come home soon so we can talk. As I’ve made clear, Beau and Lorraine miss you. But I miss you too, darling. Enjoy your trip, but please come home soon safe and sound.

With love, Huck

—---

October 9th

This ain’t funny anymore, you know. It ain’t funny, and you need to get home now. You can quit ignoring all our letters, we get it. You’re hurt, you’re upset, you wanna teach us a lesson or somethin. We get it, we understand, just come home.

Lorraine is losing her gotdamn mind, and quite frankly I am too. No one’s heard a peep from you or Roy. You didn’t even like the West, you had always said it was too different. Never liked how they did their food either. So why would you even go out that way anyway?

You’re probably out drinking those fancy beers they try to peddle up there. They’re not as good as ours and you know it. Or you’re out doing those stupid hikes that you never cared for, getting more blisters on your heels because you don’t even like walks. There’s nothing good out there and you need to come back.

You should’ve left us a note before you left. That ain’t like you, you know. You always let us know where you’re going. You couldn’t even go to church camp back in the day without leaving a personalised letter for each of us. But now you just up and leave in the middle of the night? No warning? That ain’t right and you know it.

People keep asking me where you are and I don’t have any more answers. I can only say “she’s on vacation” so many times before people realise it’s a lie. And it is, isn’t it? It’s a lie. You’re not on some damn vacation. If you ran off, just let me know. I’ll leave you alone as long as I know you’re safe.

Did we make you that miserable? Was being around us so awful that you had to leave? You could’ve told us first. We could’ve come up with a plan, something that wouldn’t hurt you so bad. I don’t know what we could’ve done, but we could’ve tried something. Anything at all.

I need you to answer my letters, honey. I really need you to let me know you’re safe.

Please be safe.

Love you, Beau

—---

December 17th

You missed Halloween. And Thanksgiving. Are you going to miss Christmas too? And New Year's Eve? Am I going to have to jump into the new year without you? Please let me know if I am, because I need to be prepared. I’ve spent holiday after holiday waiting for you to come back, for you to spend it with me again. I get my hopes up every single time just for you to not be there.

RJ keeps asking me what’s wrong, and I’m honest with him. I miss you. I miss you so badly my chest aches. But he doesn’t understand. He thinks I just miss my best friend. And I do, you’ve always been my best friend. But you’re so much more than that, and I can’t explain it to him until you get back because I need someone to hold on to while you’re gone. When are you coming back?

Are you waiting for an apology? Because I’ll give you one, I’ll give you as many as you want. I’m sorry about RJ. I’m sorry about the proposal and that I didn’t say no. I’m sorry about Mr. Dylan, he never should’ve touched you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly. I’m sorry I avoided you after the proposal, I was just scared and didn’t know what to do.

I’ll say sorry for anything you want or need. Just please answer me. Please come home. I don’t want anything else for Christmas, I don’t want any other miracle, I just want you. Please come home.

I miss you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

January 24th

We searched Roy’s room and found all his guns gone.

I’m done asking, darling, you need to call us or send us a letter. Now. Now, I don’t believe Roy would do anything to you, but your daddy is on a kick about how unstable he was. How he’s still sick from the devil and all that nonsense he would always preach. I know he wouldn’t touch a hair on your head, but I really need you to answer me.

Lorraine has been losing her patience with RJ. She yelled at him the other day just because he tried to hold her hand. Told him not to touch her. It was quite the show. And it’s going to get her in trouble. She needs you, you know? You’re not the only one who has to hide.

I’m sorry, but I went through your room. It’s been long enough, your momma practically gave me the go ahead. You didn’t take any of your letters from Lorraine. Did you mean to leave them? I hope you didn’t. I hope it was an accident, and you didn’t mean to leave us behind.

Beau has a letter for you too, but he’s not done with it. I don’t know how to help him. He’s got himself convinced he should’ve done more. I don’t know what he should have done. I don’t know what he could have done differently. Did you want him to propose? The three of us could’ve moved off somewhere, you know. We could’ve made it work if it’s what you wanted.

Everyone wants you home. They need you to come home. No one is complete without you, it’s like a big part of town is missing. Stevie from the bar finally pulled me aside and asked about you last weekend. I couldn’t even give him an answer. He said he’d pray for you. Said he’d keep a shot of the good stuff saved for when you get back.

Fuck it. I miss you too. You’re one of my very best friends, hon. You’re the one who’s been with me through everything. Hell, you introduced me to Beau. You’re the only one I can truly talk to about things. I need you home too, okay? You’re part of my home, so I need you to come back.

I need you to write back.

With love, Huck

—---

January 30th

You’re an absolute bastard. You know that? You’re a fuckin bastard. A vacation? Give me a fuckin break, you didn’t go on no gotdamn vacation. Where’d you go, huh? Somewhere we’d never find you? Did Roy convince you to leave? He probably did, the prick. Ain’t no way you would’ve left on your own, you’re not stupid.

What the hell were you thinkin? Just up and leavin like it ain’t nobody’s business. Well it’s my business. It’s my fucking business and you should’ve told me. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I don’t care that we’re pretendin, I still fuckin care about you and you just fuckin left? Did I mean that little to you?

We had a pretty great thing goin, you didn’t have to leave and ruin it. I don’t care that it was a lie, we were happy. I still had Huck, and you still had Lorraine, and we were happy. You didn’t have to pack your bags and leave like a thief in the night to, what, prove a point? Well I get it now, you weren’t as happy as I thought. You could’ve told me instead of doin all of this.

You’d better answer the gotdamn letter this time. I ain’t playin around anymore. You better answer the letter and get your ass home. And if Roy is readin this, then you better get her home. You’d better have kept your gotdamn hands and your guns away, and you better get her home. Now.

Beau

—---

February 15th

Hey, momma said I should try to send you something. She said you might answer me since I’m your baby brother. Are you and Roy okay? I don’t care what Pap says, I know y’all aren’t dumb, y’all didn’t go do something stupid. Roy probably just grabbed his guns to keep you safe. He’s not crazy.

Gramma came down with something nasty. The doctors think it’s pneumonia, but we’re still waiting for tests to come back. You both should probably get back just in case it’s bad. She misses you. She prays for you both twice a day. It’s really sweet, she just wants you both safe.

Seminary has been alright. Boring. You would’ve liked it more. Heck, you would’ve been better at it. No one knows the bible quite like you, I don’t care what Pap says. If any one of us should’ve gone off to study, it should’ve been you. Maybe once he sees how bad at it I am, he’ll change his mind. Think so? Probably not.

I’m waiting to propose to Liz until you both get back. I’ve got it all planned out and everything, even bought a ring. You’d like it, I think. But I can’t get married without my big siblings, right? Don’t worry, I can be patient. Y’all just get home safe and sound, you hear?

We love you. The both of you. We’ll see you soon.

Jimmy

—---

February 18th

Your Gramma passed away today. The funeral is in two weeks. That should be more than enough time for you to get back.

We’ll see you soon, love.

With love, Huck

—---

March 4th

Your Gramma’s funeral was today. You weren’t there. Why weren’t you there? You meant the world to her. She meant the world to you. You were the one she wanted to see, and you weren’t even there to see her buried.

She would have wanted you to be here.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

April 4th

A police report came in that they found two bodies in the river a few hours away from here. The bodies are decomposed too much to make identifications. I swear to god, hon, it better not be you. I know things were hard. For the both of you. But you didn’t have to go and do that.

It better not be you.

With love, Huck

—---

May 26th

Your daddy practically declared you both dead at church this morning. I guess after almost a year, he’s tired of worrying about it. He was never a patient man. I don’t think anyone really believed him, but who’s going to argue with their preacher? No one in this town, that’s for sure. Momma and daddy said you’re probably fine, just got sick of your daddy. No one would blame you if that were the case.

After church, Mr. Dylan told your daddy you and Roy had tried to kill him the night you left. If that were true, I don’t know why he didn’t bring it up when everyone was asking where you were. Don’t know why he saved it for now, but he did. Said you had both tried to kill him in the church.

He told your daddy you were a queer. Said you were a queer and you were going to infect the town with your sin. Huck hit him. Square on the jaw, knocked him out cold. I had thought it would be Beau. I hope he gave Mr. Dylan a concussion.

Did he really find out? Because I didn’t tell anybody, I swear. We always kept things a secret. At least I think we did. No one was ever around that didn’t already know. I know none of my crew told, they wouldn’t dare. I promise I didn’t tell anyone.

Momma asked me this evening if you really were queer. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what her reaction would be. She has always loved you, I didn’t want her to think any less of you because of what Mr. Dylan said. Daddy said we shouldn’t talk about it while you’re not here. Said it wasn’t right to talk behind your back. I don’t want them to hate you.

I won’t ever let them hate you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 1st

I hate you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hate you. I hate you, and I hate Roy, and I hate this fuckin town and everyone in it.

You were supposed to be here, gotdammit. You were supposed to be here, and we were all supposed to grow old together. What the fuck were you thinkin? Don’t you know how much you’ve hurt me? Don’t you understand? We might not have been in love, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love you. I loved you, and you went and broke my heart like this?

We were all supposed to be together, you know. No matter what, remember? I thought you were my Huckleberry. Well what are you now, huh? A coward. You’re a fuckin coward. What, times get hard so you leave? You just pack your shit and leave with your crazy fuckin brother?

What were we to you? Were we just a means to an end? Nothing more than a toy for you to play with? Cause you were never that to me. You were never anything less than my best friend, the only girl I ever loved. And you just fuckin left me. Was I not good enough for you?

If that’s how you feel, then good fuckin riddance. Stay away. We don’t want you back in this town anyway. Go stay with your new fuckin friends that won’t ever fuckin know you or care about you the way we do. No one is ever gonna understand you like we do.

Don’t even bother comin back.

Beau

—---

June 2nd

Please come back. I can’t do this without you.

Beau

—---

June 4th

I broke off the engagement today. It’s all just too much. I can’t even stand looking at him anymore. Every time he looks at me makes my skin crawl. I can’t even stand being in the same room with him anymore. Each time he touches me makes me feel like a piece of my soul dies.

Did I do this to you? Did I push you to leave? If I did, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. If I had been smarter, I would’ve suggested dating Huck instead. Then none of this ever would have happened. The four of us would’ve been together and no one would have ever known. We could’ve been happy.

Were you that unhappy? I never wanted you to hurt. All I ever wanted was you. Every time I had to fake a smile with RJ, or play nice, I always thought about you. I didn’t care about him, he was just a good distraction so no one would know about us. It was stupid. I never should’ve been afraid of how I felt.

I need you to come home. I need you to come home and tell me everything will be okay. Nothing feels the same without you. Foods don’t taste good, the sun isn’t as bright, nothing is fun. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed anymore. I would rather rot away than go another day without you.

I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I’ll take everything back, I’ll tell the whole world that I love you. I’ll hold your hand at the store. I’ll sit in your lap at the bar, and pull you to dance with me. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. I just want you back. I need you back.

I love you. You’re my home. I need you here with me.

Please come back to me.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 1st

You took my heart with you, you know. No one else is ever going to have it. Please keep it safe.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

The bonfire was hot against Lorraine’s skin. Far too hot. Combined with the sweltering summer heat, it was painful. She didn’t care. Painful at least felt like something. It felt like something real, something she could focus on. Almost as real as the pile of letters in her hands, all stamped with the same thing on the front in red.

Return to sender.

“I’m sorry,” Max said softly. Her hand was surprisingly cool against Lorraine’s upper arm.

On the other side of the fire, off in the distance, she could hear Beau yelling. Drunken, incoherent rambling that no one could really understand. Huck had given up on trying to console him. After all, how could he console him about something that they couldn’t fix? What would be the point?

Another beer bottle shattered against the hard ground.

You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to be there waiting for Lorraine when she got back from filming. Then you were both going to talk, and you were going to come up with a plan to get out of the engagement, and then everyone was going to be happy. Maybe you could’ve gone out East for real, like the four of you had always talked about.

The letters in her hand felt like lead.

“Do you want us to give you a minute?” Bobby-Lynne asked. She squeezed Lorraine’s shoulders. It was comforting. Grounding.

“No,” Lorraine said softly. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

The letters were the last connection she had to you. Your daddy had quickly emptied out yours and Roy’s rooms, labeling you both as sinners and traitors. She had been lucky enough to grab your hat before he had thrown everything out. It sat comfortably on her head right at that moment.

Her last remnants of you.

No tears came as she held the letters over the fire. The flames licked the skin of her damaged fingers. She knew, logically, it should have hurt. It didn’t. Maybe, if she kept her hand there long enough, you would appear and pull her back. You would scold her for doing something dangerous, and then you could both go to bed.

That’s all she wanted. She just wanted to go to bed.

Her fingers pried themselves away from the letters, and she watched them fall onto the bonfire. One by one they caught a spark, turning a dark brown and curling around the edges before igniting. She could see the different handwriting on each page. Beau, Huck, Jimmy. Her own. All filling the pages with their thoughts, their concerns, their feelings. Things they would never dare tell each other.

She watched the fire until the very last letter burned. Your name faded away into the orange flame. You faded away into nothing, and when your name was no longer legible, Lorraine felt her own heart go with it. There was a space shaped exactly like you within her chest. No one would ever fill it, and she didn’t want them to.

You were her heart and soul. Her home.

She would never find anyone else for as long as she lived. And then, she would find you in death.

She would find you in every lifetime. No matter how long it took.

[ivystoryweaver]

for tender prompts: dancing to a slow jazz song after a long day of work

JAKE LOCKLEY :3

I Don't Dance

"Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own."

Thanks for this @runa-falls! Ahhhhh love it! Not me back on my "Jake listens to Miles Davis" tangent again...

for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024 for June 9th-15th: first time with the same sex, first kiss

1.4k words || Jake Lockley x m!reader* || flirting, roommates to lovers, slightly suggestive, vague mentions of food and drinking, language

*reader inclusivity notes: Reader wears glasses, is taller than Jake

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Life is good…enough.

Work can be a drag, but you look forward to coming home to your roommate Jake. Usually he's worked all night, slept all day, and the two of you meet up around dinner time. You're friendly roommates, always considerately cooking and making enough food for the other, keeping the dishes clean and playing video games together.

You have the most massive crush on the smaller man. He's gorgeous, with smoldering brown eyes and luscious dark curls, with a tinge of early gray...

You've never been with a man before. Just a few failed, awkward romances with women, a few years back.

But recently you've been realizing that you're not single because you're some sort of loser, or something equally upsetting. You're single because women actually just don't interest you, not as much emotionally, and not really at all sexually.

One time you heard Jake in his room with a partner, groaning and grunting in pleasure, his muffled voice telling his lover how to take him.

That was...eye-opening.

Now you think about him all the time, but you don't know how to tell him, and worse, if you even should tell him. He's way too cute for you...right? Cute doesn't begin to cover it - the man oozes confidence...experience...smolder.

He's really nice too.

He was gone for a few days, out of town "for work" (whatever that is). When he got back, he actually gave you a quick hug. "Missed you, man." You forgot to breathe for so long, it came out like a dramatic sigh once you did.

Jake wondered if you were annoyed, but instead, asked you to play video games. The sides of your arms touched the whole time, and you had to put a pillow over your lap because your obvious…attraction.

Jake senses the tension between you and wonders if you're mad that he finished the peanut butter and didn’t buy more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, your gaze flickering away. “No, I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Jake - especially not over peanut butter.”

He hums out an ambiguous response, dragging a hand over the sexy stubble on his chin. "You must've missed me then." His eyebrows shoot up playfully.

God you want him so bad.

As if your greeting hug and video-game-a-thon weren't enough, work the next day couldn't go worse. Sometimes you feel invisible to colleagues and especially to your boss, who seems to have completely ignored your inquiry about an open management position. After a day of being overlooked and passed over, you’re so done.

You finally make it home, drenched from a sudden shower that seemed to wait until you walked out of work to start, and decided to stop as soon as you made it through your front door. Shedding your wet jacket, you stamp your feet on the mat just inside the door, yanking off your fogged up glasses so you can wipe them clean.

Unfortunately, rain does not look good on you the way it does on Jake. If he comes home wet, he's something out of a noir film, removing his cap, pushing those long fingers through his perfectly damp, thick curls - droplets of water making his long lashes shine as they kiss his cheeks. Rivulets of rain snake down the corded thickness of his throat, disappearing into his deliciously drenched white shirt, which hugs the shape of his body temptingly.

Must be nice.

Maybe you can make it to your room before he sees you looking like a wet rat.

You shower and make yourself presentable enough, moving around your home quietly, afraid your pathetic-ness will somehow repel your roommate - secretly crushed that Jake doesn't interact with you for an hour or so. Maybe he doesn't notice how brutal your day was.

A delicious aroma wafts down the hall from the kitchen a while later and you realize Jake is cooking dinner. Deciding you'd rather be in his presence than mope in your room, you venture out to interact. Dinners with Jake are the highlight of your life after all - that is, when you're not sitting with him, touching him, playing games together.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, remembering to take things one day at a time. He might not even be into guys. Or you specifically.

Jake looks up as you enter the kitchen, dark eyes brightening, but somehow immediately softening at your apparent distress. Your shoulders sag in defeat even as you put on a brave face to greet him.

Usually he leaves you alone when you're quiet, assuming you prefer it that way, but after you sat together all last night, he thought maybe...

Setting down a wooden spoon and reducing the heat underneath a sizzling skillet, he turns to you, and your heart races as you realize he's giving you his full attention. It's not helping that he's wearing an apron - that sight alone might kill you.

"You okay?" Dark eyebrows arch curiously as he boldly inches forward.

Blowing out an exhale through your lips, you quickly nod, realizing that simple inquiry means more to you than anything.

Reaching out to grasp your forearm, he peers up at you earnestly. "Hey...talk to me."

You force a smile as your 'brave face' wavers. "Just a shit day. Nothing really."

He pulls a face of his own - a smirk curling the corner of his kissable lips. He's got to stop doing that or you're going to fall head over heels. (Too late).

"Okay, then," he relents, meandering over a few cabinets to where you keep the booze. Jake pours you a drink to settle your nerves, presenting it to you with a comedic flourish, as if you are his liege lord and he's your servant. Eh, probably just a fantasy of yours...

You chuckle, muttering, "thanks," as he brushes past you, disappearing into the living room to turn on the record player. Jake is a mystery, but his collection of albums might be the most sexy thing about him.

Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own.

You toss your drink back in a couple of long gulps, hoping to gain some proverbial liquid courage as Jake returns to his task, reaching for the wooden spoon to stir.

"Thanks for the drink," you say, bravely moving closer, bumping arms with him. "Need some help?"

Setting the spoon back down, he turns a smoldering gaze your way. "Dance with me."

You almost choke. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me." He roughly whispers. Tugging at the string of his apron, he pulls it loose and sets it on the countertop, leaving him in a tight, white t-shirt and joggers which rest on the swell of his hips. Offering his hand, he repeats, "Dance with me."

Your body responds, seemingly without permission from your brain as you take his waiting hand - the contact zinging up your arm, electrifying you. "I-I don't dance."

He hums out a knowing chuckle, eyes sparkling at the challenge. "Everybody can dance, here." Boldly gripping your hand, he eases your arm around his waist, giving you an out before going too far. "Stop me if I fuck this up." He pulls you closer than you expected, his breath ghosting your cheek.

"Jake..."

"Am I getting this wrong?" He asks you seriously, sounding a bit nervous - his voice pinched even as he possessively cinches you closer. "I...want you and I feel like you want me too, but...fuck, if I'm wrong, please don't kick me out."

You can't believe this is truly happening. How is this man actually real - how is he touching you, saying these things? And moreover, why are you not responding?

Afraid you might cry or something humiliating, a breathless laugh rushes out of you, cutting the tension. "I'm not gonna kick you out."

Soulful jazz crescendos, soothing the surge of worries threatening to ruin this moment, and before you can overthink - as you do - you pull him closer. "Come here..."

Your heart stops when he lays his head on your chest, almost causing you to forget to dance, but you realize, in that moment, that you trust his lead. You believe his words - at least your body does, and you sway to the music, moving in synchrony with this man you adore.

And as you wonder if the stars have aligned and you might really have a chance with him, he tilts his head up and presses his mouth to yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake Lockley-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[lionlena]

We don’t love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst! Part V

Summary:  You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don’t love each other. You’re friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other… Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn’t mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything.

Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)

*

Part V

He rested his forehead against the tiles and sighed as he felt the streams of warm water hit his hard muscles. God... He was so tense. It's all through pretending. He smiled when he saw the fans and when he signed autographs. He laughed during interviews. But it was all a lie, and he was working hard to make the world believe him.

He had no cause for joy, and going out into the outside world was a torment.

Maybe, only the interviews with Bella, did him feel better, but that was only because she reminded him of his little sister in some way, and he felt the need to take care of her. He was wondering, if you would like her? Probably yes.

You and Bella would probably tease him about taking naps on set, and he'd allow it.

He felt the pain in his heart again. God, he was so tired, so sad... Yes, he'd screwed up and he had no excuse for it. You had every right to hate him, and yet... Part of him wanted to tell you that it wasn't all his fault that he tried... He tried so hard, but he failed.

When he got out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked over to the medicine cabinet. He reached for sleeping pills and immediately took two, washing them down with tap water. He doubted it would help anyway. He couldn't sleep since you left. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your tears and the horror on your face. What did he expect? He's never yelled at you before. Yes, in play or while you were helping him with role. But he never shouted in anger. Though honestly, he wasn't angry at the time, he was terrified. Terrified that he ruined everything. That he spoiled everything for years.

He entered his bedroom and put on a t-shirt and sleeping shorts. He glanced at his phone and winced at the two missed calls from Oscar. He didn't want to talk to his friend and had been ignoring him for several days. It's not like he blamed him for the current situation, and yet... Oscar had tried for years to help him, in a way to put it mildly: useless. First, he urged him to break off the deal with you. Then he thought Pedro should confess his love to you. Then he said him that since you two been stuck in a suspension for so many years, it's better for you if your paths diverge.

However, when you parted ways, Oscar saw how wrong he was. Pedro was tired of listening to his advice. There was nothing to fix. Everything broke down.

And even though he knew it, he stared at the phone screen for a while longer, hoping that your name would be displayed on it. But nothing happened, so he decided to fetch a bottle of water from the kitchen and at least try to sleep.

As he entered the living room, the blonde sitting on the couch smiled at him. She put down the tablet she was holding in her hands.

"I already checked everything. I have a flight tomorrow morning. So, I won't bother you any longer."

Pedro shook his head.

"No problem, June. You don't remember, when I living with you and Ann for two weeks in college."

"Yes, but... I feel so stupid."

"Anyone can miss a plane. Don't worry."

June looked at him carefully.

"You look tired."

Pedro smiled sadly. If she only knew how exhausted he was.

"Yes, fame is tiring. That's why I'm going to sleep right now, but you stay as long as you want."

June immediately replied:

"Oh no, no. I'm going to bed too. If I miss my flight again tomorrow, my wife will kill me."

Pedro laughed and suddenly remembered something.

"While I was taking a shower, I thought I heard a bell ring."

"Ah yes, your neighbor was looking for her kitten."

"Hmm, strange. I didn't know they had a cat. Well, I hope she finds this kitty."

"Me too. She looked very nervous."

Pedro nodded, wished her good night, and went back to the bedroom . He laid down on his stomach and drew to himself the pillow that you always slept on. He stuck his nose in it, though he knew it was useless. You hadn't been in his bed in months, and yet he felt like he could smell you. Well, maybe because he used your shampoo in the shower. He whined as he realized how pathetic he was. But he needed so much a minimum of comfort. Just your smell.

He couldn't stop the tears escaping from his eyes. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, hoping the pills would finally take effect. Maybe his brain will show him mercy and see you in his sleep?

*

All I want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

'Cause if i could see your face once more

I could die a happy man i'm sure

 When you said your last goodbye

I died a little bit inside

I lay in tears in bed all night

Alone, without you by my side Kodaline - All I Want

*

Part IV 

Part VI

Storm is coming....

There will probably be 2 more parts to this series, but I am slowly approaching the end of this series (which was never meant to be a series).

[ryanwrites05]

June 18 - Luna

@hinnymicrofic

He stepped out of the warmth of Shell Cottage, breathing in the sea air. It was salty, humid, and oddly calming. He’d like to spend more time by the sea, he thought, if he survived the war.

Anytime he thought of life after the war, and he allowed himself to imagine he survived, as improbable as that would be, his thoughts strayed to her. Praying to any god that would listen for her safety.

The war could have him. Demanded him, really. But it couldn’t have her.

He pushed his hands into his pockets and mentally chewed on the plans they had been making. He would put his friends in danger yet again. Breaking in to Gringotts was impossible Griphook said - a suicide mission.

Griphook didn’t know the half of it. He’d lost count of how many times he had almost died at this point. Didn’t want to think about how many more close calls he would have before the prophecy was fulfilled, one way or the other.

As he sat down on a large rock overlooking the cliff and looked out to the sea, his mind wandered back to her. What was she doing, now that she was tucked away at Muriel’s? Probably hating it, needing to do something. Was she too thinking about him?

“May I sit?”, Luna’s airy voice called out from behind him, breaking him away from Ginny’s comfort. He nodded. She sat down next to him on the rock and gave him a small smile. “Thank you again for rescuing us. It was rather awful there.”

The mention of Malfoy Manor brought back terrible memories - Ron’s panic, Hermione’s screams, and holding Dobby’s lifeless body. He couldn’t talk about it, not yet - maybe not ever, so he nodded instead.

They sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, and it reminded him again of her. How she would always let him have space to think - to be. Not the Chosen One, but just Harry. She never knew everything, his promise to Dumbledore forced him to keep so much from her. Merlin, he missed her.

“She misses you too, you know.” Luna said, still looking out at the sea, the light of dusk dimming the distant view of the waves. His eyes shot to her, and she smiled warmly back at him.

“She always says you tend to brood a lot. you are rather moody at times, but I know the truth.”

He just blinked at her.

She smiled. “It’s harder than that, isn’t it? People who’ve lost loved ones like we have…you never really lose that sense of loneliness that follows it. It makes you cling to the ones you still have more tightly.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He hated to think about it, to think about how many more they would lose before the end.

He looked back at the sea. The sky had turned even more darkish grey, and he thought that rather fit.

He sighed and allowed his head to drop to his hands. Noticing she was wearing a thin yellow and purple jumper, he took off his jacket and gave it to her. As she put it on, he thought it odd her wearing something so plain.

“Thanks, Luna. I…I miss her, too. She always knew just what to say. How to make things better.”

He breathed out a long sigh. “It hurts not having her close.”

He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this. Perhaps because it was Luna, and she always did understand this side of him.

Luna turned and her wide eyes were unusually determined. “You will again.”

[tkwrites]

You mentioned that around the one year anniversary of Shoot the Moon that you edited it a bit to fit the timeline better. I'm curious as to what edits you made to it? If you're happy to share some examples 😊

Hi my Lovely Alora,

Thank you for this thoughtful ask! It was so fun to dive into the way this series has taken shape.

When I wrote Shoot the Moon, there were no side characters in this universe, other than Petey, of course. I didn't write June in until I wrote Second Nature, where it says: Their kiss in the kitchen felt like a glimpse into a future time when the awkwardness of firsts was done away. It had taken months to get that comfortable with his last girlfriend, June. She hadn’t been as into him as he’d been into her (and hadn't been afraid to wield that fact like a sword), so that had been most of the problem. He didn’t get that game playing vibe from Sarah; just this reciprocated, gentle passion like he’d never experienced before. They even seemed to naturally kiss at the same pace. 

This was the moment the idea of June started to take shape. As time went on and as I fleshed out her character and her relationship with Quinn, I realized that it was a bit strange that he had seriously dated someone for a year and a half, but had never performed oral sex on her. Because of that, I felt I had to add in some explanations.

I've put some of the edited passages below and included the original along with the new so you can see the difference.

Before:

When they first got together, Quinn had been fairly inexperienced. Some due to them learning what the other person needed, and some, she figured, because he was used to quick hookups and had never really been in the kind of relationship where a woman could teach him what she liked. 

After:

When they first got together, Quinn had been fairly inexperienced. Some due to them learning what the other person needed, and some, she figured, because he was used to quick hookups and had never been in the kind of relationship where a woman could teach him what she liked. If he had, that woman didn't know or appreciate the bliss that was oral sex. Perhaps she didn't see the potential Quinn could work with his mouth. Sarah didn't know how someone could miss it.

Before:

He leaned in and parted her with his tongue. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Soft and warm and delicate. Also delicious. Sweet, tangy and completely different from anything he'd tasted before. He loved the smell of her when they made love, and this was the same amplified ten fold. God, why had he waited so long?

After:

He leaned in and parted her with his tongue. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Soft and warm and delicate. Also delicious. Sweet, tangy and completely different from anything he'd tasted before. He loved the smell of her when they made love, and this was the same amplified ten fold. The release he'd licked off his fingers before didn't even prepare him for this. It was so much better. God, why had he waited so long?

[shesalwaysthere]

Waiting Room

Joel x F!Reader

Chapter One: My Poor Parents’ Teenage Daughter

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

genre: no outbreak, explicit, fluff, angst, eventual smut

word count: 3.7k

summary: You come home from your term at UT for the summer to visit your parents. It’s your last summer close to home before you go up north and leave your family behind- but what happens when a teenage wet dream turns into something that could challenge your future?

warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT MINORS DNI, age gap, mentions of attraction when reader is younger (Joel is NOT attracted to reader when they are younger than 18), swearing, drunkenness, tommy being an asshole, no use of y/n

a/n: hey guys!! this is my first fic on here so if u have any tips please let me know! this was such a joy to write and i absolutely cannot wait to continue this story!! pls lmk what u think! <3

“be easy.

take your time.

you are coming

home

to yourself.”

— the becoming

Every day until you come home each June seems longer and longer until the departure day arrives. You love your school, UT has brought you so many new experiences and you truly feel like you’re ready for this new chapter in your life. But the long stretches of day that seem to go on forever don’t treat you kindly like home did.

Your journey home is, thankfully, a short one.

When you were younger, you dreaded going to college so close to home, your mind always so full of wanderlust, fantasizing about what the big, blue world would bring you. Austin was big, to be sure, but not big enough for you. You needed to soak up the Earth and everything it had to offer.

At twenty-two, you’re glad fifteen-year-old you didn’t make the decisions anymore. Within the first week of your freshman year, you missed your bed. You missed your mom blasting her songs through the house, and seeing your dad floating in the pool on the sweltering Texas days. Your family was crazy, loud, and crass, but the quiet of university gave you hives.

This summer was going to be the last before you traveled further north to Dallas to pursue the last leg of your degree. You were offered free room and board to finish your master's degree at a smaller school, and you were even granted an internship at which your mother screeched in excitement. You were thrilled to start your future, certainly, but this trip was expected to be a little… melancholy.

Your dad tried to convince you to let him drive you, but you insisted a two-way trip was a waste of gas, and you’d see him at home anyways. Home, you thought. Not for much longer, but home. Your old, rickety car sputtered on the half-hour drive, and you patted the poor steed’s dashboard reassuringly, almost as if it could be calmed by your hand. You did push the car’s limits by driving a bit too fast on the main roads, but you were just so, so eager to be home.

Once you finally reached the driveway, your parents were already rushing out the door, attacking you with an embrace, and you giggled happily, letting their warmth take over you. When they finally released you, you took notice of the massive – and very poorly painted – banner above the door, welcoming you home, with your name in big, messy letters drawn for the whole neighborhood to see. As you approached the door, you heard telltale sounds of… oh, God.

A party.

Before you could even protest, or remind your parents of the fact that you were a mess in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, your hair was all messy, and your face made you look like the underside of a dumpster, they promptly shoved you inside as a cheer erupted from the crowd. Waves of family members shoved through to try and greet you first – aunts and uncles, cousins you’d missed, your sweet little nephew who’d been born four months before. There were even a few family friends you hadn’t seen in years, friends who must have traveled much too far just to see you. Your anxieties about your appearance faded as the energy in the room shifted. How silly you were to be so nervous. You felt surrounded by so much love, and honestly, it was just what you needed.

You almost don’t notice one of your childhood friends, Hannah, standing off to the side, as if she was patiently waiting for you to find her. You had wondered why she hadn’t been answering your texts for the past couple of weeks, then remembered fondly how she can’t keep a secret. You both share a look that nearly brings you to tears, overwhelmed by just the sight of her. You both look so… grown up.

You rush to her with arms outstretched, wrapping her in a tight embrace and laughing, overcome with joy. She pulls away to scan your face, nodding approvingly. “Damn, college did some good to you,” she laughs, holding your face for a moment, “maybe I should have followed you to UT, huh? Could’ve got this glow you have.”

Hannah is three years older than you. She was always so smart in school, and while it made you feel a little inferior, it also filled you with so much pride. She even tested into a program that earned her an associate’s degree when she graduated high school. She finished up her BA at community college even though she was offered several scholarships at many different colleges, all amounting to a number you could never dream of having. No full rides, though, and that was a dealbreaker for her parents. She’s down at the library, now, which you can only hope is something she loves.

You talk for a while, letting other folks come up to greet you and show praise for a few moments before you get too embarrassed and shoo them away. At one point, someone approaches from behind, covering your eyes. You feel them lean in all too close, their breath on your neck.

“Guess who,” they whisper, and you shiver.

If you didn’t know by the hands alone, the voice gives it all away. You pull away and smile wide, wrapping your arms around your dad’s closest friend for as long as you can remember, Joel Miller. Being the man he is, he lifts you up and spins you around, chuckling as you scream. He sets you back down and affectionately puts a hand on your shoulder. “Heya, kid. I’m real proud of you. I know how much this means to you. We’ll miss you down here.” You smile, your cheeks turning a light pink color as he walks away.

Your feelings for Joel are… complicated. He’s been around as far back as your memory goes, always there for your family when you needed him. Hell, he’d even come over when your dog ran out the door and you had to comb through the whole neighborhood to find her. You’d hop in the bed of his truck and shout her name until she came bounding towards you. He was there for birthdays, holidays, funerals…

He also made an occasional appearance in your teenage wet dreams.

It really isn’t your fault. He was consistently fit, handsome, caring, funny… he was the whole damn package and you couldn’t really ignore that as a teenage girl dreaming about prince charming. Joel wasn’t perfect, you knew that, but you loved that even more.

As you and Hannah watch him leave, she pokes you with her clawed finger, making you yelp and playfully slap her, pouting. She shakes her head at you. “What?” You cry, rubbing your arm where she poked you.

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, looking back at Joel. “He’s basically your uncle.”

“Ew, Hannah! Don’t say that, god, that’s so gross,” you say, shaking your head and covering your face. “Don’t make me feel worse! I can’t help this.”

Hannah, of course, knew all about your little crush on Joel and relentlessly teased you throughout the years for it. The teasing was well deserved, as it was silly to feel that way towards someone around 20 years your senior, but sometimes it got to you. It wasn’t like you were going to pursue him, he was just… one delicious fantasy that was stuck in your head.

“So, how’s Kevin?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Hannah, but you know boy talk is her weakness, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief when she begins her ramble. The gossip doesn’t last too much longer, though, as your dad approaches you with a big smile, and you could tell by the look in his eyes he had some sort of surprise for you.

“Hey, nugget,” he smiles, making you roll your eyes at the nickname. “Come over here, I wanna talk to you about something.” You nod, giving Hannah’s hand a squeeze and smiling before walking away with your dad, intuiting that whatever he wants to talk about will take quite a while. You love him, but he’s something of a talker. He guides you through the sea of people in your living room to the back door, where more people have slowly gathered as the grill begins to work its magic and the crowd gets hungrier. Manning the grill was, of course, Joel.

Your dad leads you over to where he stands, Joel’s eyes not leaving the grill. ‘So serious about his hamburgers’, you think, smiling to yourself. Your dad claps him on the back and Joel jumps slightly, smiling at how surprised he was. He shoves your dad’s shoulder and your dad shakes his head. “This old fucker… well, he’s in desperate need of your help. See, the legal side of his contracting business is frankly a mess, and he won’t hire anyone thinkin’ it’s one big waste o’ money, or whatever.”

The two of them share a laugh, and despite how adorable your two favorite old men are, you find yourself growing increasingly impatient at their lack of to-the-pointness. You nod your head, crossing your legs in agitation. Your dad sighs and points to you knowingly.

“You’re good with that law aspect though, aren’t you? Making sure the… y’know, labor’s fair and the whole thing’s all up to code,” your dad says, scratching his nose. You know he has absolutely no clue what the hell he’s talking about, but he’s trying, and it gives you some semblance of warm joy at the thought. “I thought maybe… you could work for Joel this summer. Few months of real-world experience under your belt, get some decent pay… plus, the old man won’t be too hard on you, will ya, Joel?”

You bring your eyes back over to Joel, who’s clearly been a bit more affected by the alcohol than your dear old dad. His cheeks are red, his brow a bit sweaty (though that could be from the grill) and his lips pursed. You stop to wonder if someone so clearly messed up should be manning a grill, but the thought is stopped in its tracks as you notice something.

Joel is looking at you. I mean, really looking. Not in your eyes, no, at your face. Scanning you, drinking you in, like he’s looking at you for the first time. You feel your face get hot as his eyes go lower before slowly rolling their way back up, and he locks eyes with you, making you smile. He smiles back, which surprises you. It’s a smile that speaks to you. It tells you to be quiet, shushing you, keeping it a secret. You bite your lip, stifling a giggle as you look back at your dad.

You shrug. “I guess. As long as Joel knows the basics of everything, or has kept a file. You did have a lawyer when you started Miller Contracting, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at Joel playfully. He laughs too loud, taking another sip of his beer and nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure he kept the files somewhere around, I’ll get ‘em for you. As long as you’re comfortable workin’ with me.”

Your dad shoves him a bit. “Oh, c’mon, Miller, she’s fine. She’s known you most of ‘er life, long as you just treat her right and don’t saddle her with work like you do Tommy, she’ll be alright. And make sure Tommy keeps his hands to himself!” He half-shouts, busting out into more laughter as you turn red again.

You snap your eyes over to Joel who quickly averts his gaze to the floor, and you bite your lip in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” you say. “And don’t worry, Dad. We’re both good with our hands in different ways.”

You couldn’t be certain, but you thought you saw Joel choke on his drink.

You decided to go formal. First day, new job, might as well look nice, right? Your little… outfit was a little form-fitting, but you’d go for it anyways. You gathered what you figured would be first-day essentials and rushed out the door before your parents woke up. You knew your parents would either make you late by celebrating it as if it was some massive deal, or they’d force you to stay until they were ready to take you themselves, and you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of either.

As you start your car, your phone dings with a little notification. You check, pleasantly surprised, as it’s a text from Joel.

ミ★

(9:08 am) Joel: Hey kid, here’s the address for the office.

(9:08 am) You: look at you, joel, all tech-savvy!

(9:10 am) Joel: Gotta remind me I’m old huh?

(9:11 am) You: now do an emoji for me

(9:11 am) Joel: I am not doing tricks for your pleasure.

(9:12 am) You: i’ll bring you a coffee.

(9:12 am) Joel: 🎪🤹🤡

☆彡

You smile, shaking your head at your goofy, old boss. You punch in the directions to your GPS app and begin the 15-minute (turned to a 25-minute to stop for coffee) trip to your new job. And with around 20 minutes to spare, you pat yourself on the back. Joel is already waiting for you when you walk in, giving you a look you cannot place, especially being distracted by carrying coffee with you. You shove your folders into Joel’s chest momentarily to regain your balance.

“Hey, sorry, hold this for a sec,” you say, pulling out Joel’s coffee and setting it on the desk behind him and sighing, grabbing your papers back. “Thanks. Um… you okay?” Your question is prompted by you taking notice of the look on his face – a sort of slack-jawed, wide-eyed look, like you’d walked in wearing nothing. You feel something tighten inside of you, cursing yourself for feeling so weak at a man looking at you like some kind of meal. You clear your throat, trying to push out a little awkward laugh. “What, you never seen me in nice clothes before?”

Joel clears his throat, smiling a little at himself. “Not since your prom dress,” he says, clearly poking fun at you, since you decided at seventeen that the best thing to wear to prom would be a bright pink dress that looked WAY better in the store than it did the day of, and you had to go in one of your mom’s old dresses. You grimace at the reminder, shoving Joel playfully for bringing it up. “Thanks for reopening that wound, asshole. To think that wasn’t even the worst part of prom,” you say, shaking your head at the memory. He gives you a confused look, making you shrug.

“You know, because I went with Harrison.” you say, gesturing for Joel to catch on. “He… was an asshole? He left me alone all night and made out with my friend when we got to Hannah’s house. Did Dad not tell you?”

Joel nods as if he understands, but he just looks more confused. “Really? Ken’s kid acted that way? Shit, that fuckin’ bonehead’s married now. Can’t imagine what that woman’s goin’ through now. If I’d known, woulda kicked the shit out of him.” He smirks, taking a sip of his coffee.

You laugh, covering your mouth like someone’s going to hear you. “Yeah, I bet you would have. All you would’ve had to do is look at him and he’d run, the pussy. Speaking of, I bet his wife’s real frustrated that he can’t make a woman come.” Joel chokes on his coffee a bit.

As if on cue, Tommy walks in, a customary Joel resting frown on his face that quickly turns to a smile when he sees you. His walk picks up into a jog as he approaches you, wrapping you up into a hug that is purely Tommy. He smells like he just got out of the shower, which is comforting in the most unidentifiable way. He leans away to get a look at you, smiling wide. “Joel told me you’d be here! Couldn’t shut the fuck up about it, in fact,” he says, giving Joel a teasing look, to which Joel responds with a frown.

Tommy looks back at you and puts his hand on your shoulder. “I’m gonna show you where you’re workin’. This old fart won’t remember where everything is, so I’m in charge of the tour. He’ll come along, though, don’t you worry.” You smile and nod, even though you’re a little confused about why you’d be worried about Joel not being there. Did Tommy know something? Did Hannah already tell the whole damn town? Before you can catastrophize anymore, Tommy walks ahead of both of you, leading you toward your station.

The consultation office is new to the company, but the building is definitely not. The only thing that doesn’t seem to be over a decade old is the floor- seemingly new tile, which Tommy comments about. Something along the lines of “out of our own damn pockets” and how it was “worth gettin’ rid of the suspicious carpet stains”. You say something about how Tommy better not bring any girls around and make more stains, which makes Joel laugh. You’re shown Joel’s consult area, Tommy’s area (which he doesn’t really explain, but based on the fact that it looks like a man cave, you assume going in there is a bad idea), a tiny coffee machine that looks like it’s older than the building itself, and finally, your office.

It’s bigger than Tommy’s. Hell, it’s bigger than Joel’s. Obviously, it’s still not huge, but there’s enough space for your desk, a little lounge, and a bookshelf. There are boxes of files on your desk, seemingly all set out for you to go through and organize. However, another box catches your attention. It has a picture frame, a little pencil cup, and a few other things one might have in their office inside of it- but it isn’t yours. You inspect it closer, seeing the picture is of Joel and Sarah. You turn to look at Joel, confused, as he leans against the doorframe.

“You gave up your office for me?”

He just shrugs. “Wasn’t usin’ it.”

You reel. It’s stupid and cheesy, but you do. You rack your brain for any indication before that he was doing this for you, but you can’t remember anything he might have done to reveal this. He wanted to surprise you.

Tommy looks back and forth between you and Joel, smiling knowingly. “He really wasn’t. This geezer spends most of his time out workin’ instead of in here, even though we got a whole group of guys doin’ the work for us.”

“Well, we didn’t start this shit to have other guys do it,” Joel combats, standing up straight. “You’re just a lazy ass now that we got more people. It’s still Miller Contracting, not… Miller and The Other Guys Contracting.”

You stifle a laugh. So does Tommy. Joel purses his lips frustratedly, which only breaks the damn. You laugh so hard you cry, the silliness of the joke rushing at you. Tommy laughs with you, sharing a look with you. It was so fucking stupid and you both knew it.

Joel finally laughs, too. Laughs so hard he has to grab his stomach, delighted at the idiotic joke he made.

You and Tommy silently agree not to mention it. You’re afraid he’ll stop.

Once your giggles finally settle, Tommy crosses his arms and says something about having to get back to someone who called earlier and he steps out of the office. And then there were two.

Joel watches you. He doesn’t say anything when Tommy leaves, just stands exactly where he’s been the whole time, stalking you, waiting for you to move. You don’t look at him. It unnerves you, making you conscious of your movement, but you want him to keep looking. You can’t explain what he’s doing, and you can’t even begin to explain what you’re doing either.

You walk around the room some more, admiring the view from the window, touching the shelves, et cetera. His eyes stay on you. You turn and face him, considering asking him what the hell he’s looking at, but his gaze stops you in your tracks. Goddamn him. You force a smile and bring your hands up to your arms, rubbing them lightly. “Little cold in here, huh?” you chuckle.

Joel just shrugs. “Better’n outside.”

You nod. The air is tense. And awkward.

He leans away from the doorframe and for a moment you think he’ll walk towards you, but he doesn’t. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Let me or Tommy know if you need anything.”

And he’s gone.

You use the rest of the day to organize the files all piled and half-organized on your desk, not even having time to read them with the unidentifiable order, or lack thereof, of it all. You assume the guys leave halfway through the day when silence falls over the office. It isn’t unsettling in the slightest, but comforting in the way it reminds you of the quiet of your dorm. You hadn’t missed it yet, but you found yourself starting to. Maybe this would be a nice substitute.

When you find yourself hungry for lunch, you decide stretching your legs is a good idea and just go to get some. When you come back, Tommy’s truck is there, and both of their office doors are closed, so you know they’re back. When you walk back into your office, there’s something there you hadn’t left.

It’s a jacket. Pretty fuckin big, too- not chunky big, just stretched out like whoever was wearing it had been wearing it for a long time. There’s a little pink Post-it note attached to it, seemingly from the office.

Don’t go touching the thermostat. -J

Fucking Christ. You groan but put it on, silently grateful for the act of kindness. Still, a thought nudged at the back of your mind.

Is the whole summer going to be like this?

[collecting-stories]

Pablo Neruda - Usnavi de la Vega

Request: no

Summary: reader has a crush on Usnavi and invites him to dinner. Just a bunch of fluff really.

A/N: I don't even know for sure how long this has been in my notes. Literally found it the other day and figured it was high time to finish it and post it here. Even if no one really cares about In the Heights anymore.

Broadway Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

The sight behind the counter shouldn’t have been a surprising one. It was more common than not that you would find Marco here, chin just level with the counter despite the stool that Usnavi let him stand on. He thought the bodega was the coolest place on earth and frequently told the owner that when he was Sonny’s age, he too would work there.  

His Spider-Man bike was chained up outside, evidence that he’d ridden straight here after school despite your constant reminders that he needed to come home first.  

“Someday I’m gonna report you as a missing child…they’re gonna think Usnavi kidnapped you.” You remarked, the bell jangling as the door shut behind you. The fan set up in the corner blew passed you as it oscillated, trying to keep the store cool in the early heat of June. You took quick stock of what you could see, noting the absence of any adult supervising your seven-year-old. “Speaking of, where is Usnavi?” 

“The cooler broke again,” Marco replied. The thud of his small feet hitting the floor echoed in the space and he came around the counter to hug you, “I got a gold star on my story about Puerto Rico,” he mentioned, pulling away to go retrieve the paper that had already been pinned up to the bulletin board behind the counter. No doubt Usnavi’s doing.  

“Wow, that’s so great baby,” you took the papers that were stapled together, looking over the story that he’d recited to you three times that morning. “You’re like a little Pablo Neruda.”  

“Who?” Marco took the papers back, hanging them in their rightful place once more. A couple of his drawings accompanied the story. Once Usnavi had even hung a spelling test up so everyone could see it. You appreciated the sweetness, the willingness to help whenever you needed it, having someone around that your son could rely on, but it didn’t stop the occasional pang of something indescribable in your chest. You didn’t want Marco to get his hopes up…god knows you kept waiting for something you were sure wasn’t going to happen. Despite Carla constantly insisting that Usnavi had feelings for you.  

“Yeah, feelings of friendship. Feelings of ‘look at this poor pathetic girl I’ve known my whole life, still can’t make it out, got a kid now cause she was too stupid to see when her boyfriend was lying to her.” 

“Trust me, the only thing Usnavi’s thinking with when you come in the store is-“ 

“Oh god Carla!” 

But you couldn’t help feeling more than a little hopeful everytime you saw one of Marco’s tests or drawings hanging up, as if Usnavi was just as proud as you were. As if Marco had a dad (or at least a father figure) who actually cared about him.  

“Pablo Neruda wrote love poems,” Usnavi’s voice sounded from behind you. “He’s your mama’s favorite.”  

You turned to look at him and he winked as if the two of you were co-conspirators. Like you were in on the same secret and it made your heart pick up speed just a little bit.  

“Who else is gonna write me love poems?” You managed to say, rather proud that you’d even mustered a sentence together.  

The smile didn’t leave Usnavi’s face, even after you turned back to Marco and told him to get his stuff together so you could go home. While you were used to the moaning and protesting that usually accompanied this request you were rather taken aback when Marco hopped off the stool without question and started gathering his school supplies off the counter.  

“Can Usnavi come over for dinner? He said Sonny’ll be here soon to help and that means he wouldn’t have to hang around too…can he?” Marco asked, eagerly, looking to Usnavi, “do you wanna come over for dinner?” 

“You’re going to abuela’s for dinner, remember?” It was Wednesday and Wednesday meant dinner with your ex’s mom.  

“Well, then you and Usnavi can have dinner.” He suggested, toothy smile (minus a noticeable one in the front).  

You thought about saying that you were more than positive Usnavi had better things to do than come over to your place and eat dinner with you but your mouth worked before your brain could intervene and suddenly you heard yourself saying, “what’d you say? Wanna have dinner with me?” to Usnavi.  

Maybe it was the heat or the work trying to fix the cooler that had him flushed but you swore he looked almost nervous when he nodded his head, like the offer was too good to be true. “Yeah, definitely.”  

Usnavi wasn’t one to get his hopes up. Benny constantly swore that you were basically in love, (“you’re practically raising Marco together, now if you could just get together”), but Usnavi didn’t want to take the chance and look like a fool. Not to mention, he liked Marco a lot and he didn’t want you to think he had some ulterior motive for being nice to your son. He wasn’t expecting you to want to be with him and he didn’t want you to think he was.  

You told him seven o’clock and he got there at 6:45, standing at the bottom of the stoop and contemplating the flowers he’d brought. You didn’t say it was date or even imply that this was anything more than you offering a meal while Marco was at his abuela’s. Maybe you just didn’t feel like eating alone. Or maybe you felt bad because Marco had offered dinner and you didn’t want to be rude. Maybe the flowers were overkill, maybe you were allergic.  

“You stand outside all night, you’re never gonna get a chance,” Daniela teased as she walked passed him, bumping her hip against his playfully.  

“We’re just having dinner,” Usnavi didn’t bother to ask how Daniela already knew about the dinner. No doubt everyone in Washington Heights knew about dinner.  

“Yeah?” She plucked a flower out of the bunch, “hoping for dessert?”  

Usnavi choked on his reply, swallowing down the last bout of nerves and heading up to the door before Daniela could continue teasing him. You were on the second floor, the black and white tiled hallway was missing a piece right beside your door and when you complained the landlord told you there was nothing he could do. Now a large pot sat over it with monstera growing next to a welcome mat that you changed out for the seasons. It was getting close to valentines and the mat had red and pink X’s and O’s.  

The green door was cracked open, a “come on in” gesture that Usnavi had encounter a few times before when he’d offered to keep Marco while you worked and then walked the boy home at the end of the night. He rarely saw you without your son and it occurred to him as he pushed the door open that this would be the first time he was at your place without the seven year old buffer leading the conversations.  

“Uh, hey, the door was open,” Usnavi offered as he walked in, shut the door behind him, and walked further into your apartment. He was still holding the flowers, down by his side, their petals directed at the hardwood floor.  

“Hey,” you moved away from the frying pan to give him a hug, laughing gently at the sight of the bouquet. “Are those for me?”  

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he apologized, whipping them up so fast a few petals fell off. “Daniela stole one, actually.”  

“Well they’re beautiful, thank you.” You took the bouquet from him and Usnavi watched you move around the small kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water and arranging the flowers. He thought about something Abuela Claudia had told him years ago about knowing when he was in love and he turned away, looking around the rest of the small space as if he’d never been in it before.  

“Sonny didn’t mind watching the store I hope,” you mentioned, looking for something to say. It felt different without Marco there. Not the sort of different that made it awkward, despite you grasping for something to say, but the sort of different that felt like talking and having dinner were the furthest things from your mind. The sort of different that had you thinking Daniela and Carla and everyone else in the Heights that had an opinion on it was right.  

“As long as I bring him back something,” he replied. He’d made it to the bookcase near the front door, looking through all the books at eye level first. Pablo Neruda caught his eye and he took the book down, skimming through the pages.  

“Whatca got there?” You asked, coming over to look around his shoulder at the book he was holding in his hands. 

Usnavi tilted his head to look back toward you, “estás aquí. Oh, no te escapes," he began, reciting the poem as you stood there listening, dinner forgotten. His voice was smooth, the way it always was but somehow different too. Sweeter, like honey.  

That different sort of feeling that you were trying not to fall into settled over you as you listened to him read. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and when he finally reached the end of the poem and he looked over at you, the fall you were trying to avoid suddenly crashed over you.  

“...quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos,” he recited, eyes meeting yours.  

“¿Es así?” You were only just barely aware of Usnavi placing the book back on the shelf, the thin volume of poems falling to the floor from its haphazard placement. He turned into your space, kissing you without hesitation.  

Benny always said he was too slow, that he overthought all of his actions before he did them, and that what he needed to do was just act. It wasn’t advice he ever actually took. Usnavi just wasn’t the kind of person who acted on impulse. And then all of the sudden he was holding your face in his hands and kissing you in your living room. Impulsive, absolutely. When you finally pulled away, only to catch your breath, Usnavi smiled. That irresistibly boyish smile that always gave you butterflies. “Dinner?” He asked, only to avoid any more impulsive acts like telling you he loved you.  

“Dinner can wait.”  

- 

The door to the apartment slammed open and Marco came through, kicking his shoes off as he called out, “Mama! Mama!”  

Behind him, the door shut, his grandma stepping into the kitchen and looking suspiciously over the food that was left on the counter, still in the pan though the oven was off. The door to your bedroom was open and before Marco could make it that far you appeared in the hall, holding a zippered sweatshirt closed, semi-nervous smile on your face.  

“Hey baby, how was dinner?” You asked, hovering near the door of your room. 

“Abuela made dulce de leche! I brought you a piece!” He held the tupperware out toward you proudly, “Is Usnavi still here?”  

“Uh, he’s...he’s in the...” you floundered, trying to think of something to say. He was very much still there, on the other side of the open door, pulling his clothes on as fast as possible.  

“Why don’t we put this in the fridge Marco,” your ex’s mother suggested, taking the tupperware back from you and putting her arm around your son’s shoulders, “wait for your mama and this Usnavi to join us.” 

If you didn’t know you’d hear an earful from her about almost getting caught by your son, you would have thanked her for intervening when she did. Instead you just ducked back in your room, closing the door so you could change quickly, clocking Usnavi standing there with a massive grin on his face.  

“Don’t smile at me like that,” you whispered. An empty warning, really.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, grin still in place.  

“Come on, I still owe you dinner.” You held the bedroom door open for him to go out first, “and now we’ve got dessert too.” 

Usnavi stopped in the doorway to kiss you, “I’ve already had mine.” When you smacked his arm he only laughed and continued into the kitchen, Marco’s excited greeting putting a smile on your face as you walked into the kitchen after him.  

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

The poem Usnavi reads is Pablo Neruda's Everyday You Play .

Translations:

estás aquí. Oh, no te escapes - you are here. Oh you do not run away

quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos - I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees

¿Es así? - is that so? / it's like that?

[2gayy2functionnn]

Don’t say Forever- Chapter 2

TW: Mentions of ED, Mentions of dead bodies

When she woke up the first place she thought she was in was hell. She wasn’t very far off, but she wasn’t dead.

The banging on her door continued and she laid there tangled in her sheets hoping it would stop. The door slammed open hitting the wall. 

“Didn’t you hear me knock” Regina snarls crossing her arms.

“I think the whole neighborhood did” I shoot back rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and sitting up in my bed a little bit. Regina rolls her eyes and scoffs before looking me up and down. 

“God, just come down for dinner. My mom says we can’t eat until you’re there. I’m hungry. So get your stupid ass down there. Got it” Regina commands not waiting for my response. I grumble to myself, just wanting to lay back down in my bed. 

I reluctantly force myself to stand up and go over to the closet overbearing with clothes. My immediate thought is “Fuck to the No” Everything either has pink or sparkles and neither of those exist in my dictionary so i walk over to my small duffel bag and pull out a pair of black sweatpants and a oversized zip up up that belongs to Damian.

I softly slip down the stairs in my socked feet. I reach the dining room and see the “happy” family having dinner and immediately feel like an imposter. I want to turn right back around, but before i can even think about it. Mrs George is walking up and escorting me to my seat. She plops me down next to kiley, who’s stabbing her chicken with a fork and picking it apart and secretly feeding it to the dog.

“Oh honey” She says pressing a hand to my cheek. She looks softly at my face and clucks. I blush immediately as i feel the touch on my face. I can’t remember the last person other than damian who’s touched me with care. It makes me squirm uncomfortably. 

“Maybe Regina, was right you do look flushed” She says softly. Regina laughs then coughs a bit as a peice of food gets stuck in her throat.

“Right?” I say confused and stare at the platinum blonde. She smirks back at me.

“She said when she went up there you were conked out and said you didn’t want to come down because you weren’t feeling 100 percent” Mrs George says softly still having a hand on my forehead. I narrow my eyes at Regina.

Oh. So i could’ve stayed up there. Also way to make me feel welcome, I guess. 

“yeah” i say coughing slightly. “I’m not feeling too hot maybe i should go back up” I say. Mr George stares at me, acting as if he can read every thought in my mind. 

“Well Janis, If your sure” June says her eyes frantically moving between eveyone at the table. I stand up quickly.

“I’m sure” i say. I want to go upstairs now. So i do. I walk fast and slam the door behind me and throw myself on the bed. 

I miss my mom, and my grandma. Even my ass hole dad who beat the shit out of me would be better than this hellhole. I think as i sob into my pillow. I can’t trust anyone in this world and everyday it makes it more and more clear. 

I lay in bed for a bit and start to sketch some in my journal. Various pictures of dead bodies. I open my phone find the most recent autopsy photo i can, and go to town. I’m so focused on my task, I don’t hear my door slightly open. 

“Hey” a person says startling me, making me jump and look up quickly. Regina stands there, clad in a satin pink pajama set and soft slippers. I blush and look down.

“Janis” she repeats sighing annoyed. I look up and meet her eyes. She tosses an uncrustable and banana at me. 

“Thanks for fucking off” She says softly. The kindest i’ve seen her been since 8th grade. I nod softly. She still stares at me.

“anything else” i ask looking up at her icy eyes. Before looking back down at the food and opening the uncrustable.

“Mom said i have to drive you tommorow. If your not in my car at 7:10 your ass is getting left here understand. Also wear something better than that oversized shit. I know your tiny but clothes really shouldn’t be that big on you” She scoffs crossing her arms. 

“It’s damian’s, I don’t have anything else” i say softly looking down at my pillow. Regina bites her lip and debates something in her head. 

“If i show you something, don’t be a wise ass about it or think I actually like you or something, Ok?” She says tapping her foot. I nod and twist my pen in my hand. 

She walks into my closet and comes out with a trashbag. 

“I knew you would hate the shit my mom picked out, So i went to a thrift store and grabbed some ugly shit, I thought you would like.” She says throwing it down next to me. I look at it wide eyed than Regina.

“Thank you?” I say. Regina scoffs crosses her arms then exits with a slam. 

What the fuck was that.

                                     ***

Janis gets out of her shower steaming hot. Her hair drips down her back as she frantically searches the trash bag for any form of pajamas. Looks like the queen bee forgot something. She is forced to look in the actual closet. Luckily she finds a black satin set while not the most practical, still comfy and works for now.

She lays her clothing out for tomorrow, as her phone bings and lights up on the bed. She walks over expecting it to be damian to give his goodnight call. But suprisingly it’s an unknown number.

Janis scoffs and changes her contact name before replying and lying down in her bed. As she sits she accidently sits on the banana and uncrustable from earlier. Maybe she should eat. Than she looks down at her stomach and realizes. 

She needs a break.

 Janis is more than positive she doesn’t snore! Yet as she falls asleep she makes sure to put her sleep clocked app on. 

You know.

Just in case.

[sarahsmi13s]

Duckie

Chapter 1

pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x twin sister!reader; kendall adams (oc) x bradshaw!reader; (eventual) jake ‘hangman’ seresin x bradshaw!reader

characters: bradley bradshaw, y/n bradshaw, tom ‘iceman’ kazansky, sarah kazansky, kendall adams, pete ‘maverick’ mitchell (mentioned), goose and carole bradshaw (mentioned)

word count: ~3.2k 

warnings: angsty bradshaws, mentions of cannon character deaths, sibling separation, drinking, LOTS OF TIME JUMPS, please let me know if i missed any

a/n: just a general note!! from what I’ve seen rooster's birthday is around June, he also just seems like a summer baby. So y’all’s birthday is 19/06/1987

series summary: daughter of goose and carole and twin sister to bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, y/n bradshaw also got her papers pulled when she tried to enlist in the Navy. which turned out to not be as bad as she thought.

chapter summary: mav has pulled the twins papers. bradley is set out to prove something, while y/n takes it as an opportunity to do a reality check and see what other options she has

ch 2  ch 3  ch 4  ch 5

************ *You and Bradley are 17* (just graduated HS)

Bradley burst through the door of your shared home, being only the two of you since your mom passed in the middle of your senior year.

“Woah, Bradley, what’s wrong?” You looked up from your book. “Maverick, that’s what’s wrong!” He ran a hand through his curls, angrily placing it on his hip afterward. 

You marked your page and stood, “What did he do, Brad?” He paced, running his hand over his mouth and jaw.

“Brad, what did Mav-” “He pulled our applications!” You jumped back a little and Bradley watched tears line your lid.

“Maverick pulled our papers…” You were in shock honestly. He nodded even though it wasn’t a question. You scoffed past your tears and let your hands drop, “Why would he do that? He knows how much we want to be like-” The name got stuck in your throat. You shook your head, running a hand through your hair, “Why would he do that Brad?” Your twin shrugged, “He thinks we aren’t ready? I don’t know, Duckie.”

You sighed and wiped your eyes. “Well, I guess we need to look at colleges.” You crossed your arms and rubbed your bicep with your hand, trying to self-comfort.

Bradley noticed the immediate change in your behavior. “Y/N, it’s okay to be upset about this. You have every right to be mad! Hell, I’m fucking pissed off! When was the last time you’ve seen me this angry?” 

“Oh, I’m upset Bradley. Fuck, I want to march right down there get in Mav’s face and demand an answer. But what good is it gonna do, huh? I don’t have time for fighting.” You turned around and went to leave for your room.

“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna give up?” 

His voice stopped you in your tracks and you just knew he had his hands on his hips; looking just like Carole. “You think Mom would just let us walk away like that? She has always supported us!” You didn’t face him but looked up at the ceiling, hopefully squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears away, “Don’t Brad-” “You know, if Dad-”

You never whipped around so fast in your life. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” You marched up to him and poked his chest, hard, “Don’t you fucking say it.” He realized he crossed the line when you didn’t even look up at him. 

“Duckie-” You shook your head, “No, don’t Bradley.” You shoved past him and went to the door and grabbed your motorcycle keys.

“Wait where are you going?” You didn’t even look back as you slammed the door. He sighed, “Shit.”

*********

You drove for a long time, not really sure where you were headed. But you ended up at the cemetery that held both of your parents. 

Of course this is where you would go.

You took your helmet off, and walked through the cemetery, muscle memory taking you right to your parents headstone.

Sighing sadly you sat down, “Hey Mom, Hey Dad.” You bit your lip, “God this doesn’t get any easier…” 

You proceed to tell them both about your week; ranging from how work was, what you watched on TV, everything up to the moment your brother nearly broke down the door..

“Dad, Maverick pulled Brad and I’s papers…” You drew in a shaky breath, “We just want to be like you. We looked up to you… still do and Mav, God Maverick, he never let us forget about you. Mom didn’t either. Bradley actually learned piano, can you believe it? Hell, I bet you guide his fingers every time like when we were kids.” You dryly chuckled, wiping the tear with your thumb.

“Thought I’d find you here.” You turned and looked up, seeing the other pilot that took up a fatherly/uncle role in your life. Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky.

“I’m that predictable, huh Ice?” The older man laughed, “Just a little. May I sit?” You nodded, resting your chin on your knee. “So, did Bradley call you?” 

The older man nodded, “Yeah, said you’d got in a fight and you’d been gone for hours.” “Hours? I have-” You looked at your watch, “Damn, I’ve been gone for hours.”

It was quiet for a moment, you leaning on Ice’s shoulder.

“Did he tell you what Mav’ did?” You felt him nod. “Could you have stopped him?” “Me? Stop Maverick? You’re asking for a miracle there Y/N.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, but cut it off with a sigh, “I’m so angry at him, Ice. I just want to scream and cry, make him feel bad for it.” 

He nudged your head with his shoulder to get you to look at him, “You know, you could always wait a few months and find another way in.”

You sighed, “I appreciate that, I really do. But who’s to say he won’t do it again. Maybe-” You picked at your nails, glancing at the headstone with your father’s name engraved and painted black on the white marble.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you chanced a look into Ice’s eyes. They held nothing but curiosity at what you meant. “Maybe I’m meant to help the world in a different way. Or maybe I’m not ready and I need a little bit to figure myself out before I jump in the backseat of a plane.” “Backseat? Figured you’d want to frontseat.” You shrugged, “Dad was a RIO, so I figured I could do that since Bradley wants to be a pilot. Our plan was to fly together; him as the pilot and me having his back, just like we’ve always been.”

Tom gave you a small smile before giving you a side hug, “Well, whatever you choose, I’ll be your wingman. And I think as long as your heart’s truly in it, your father would be proud of you.” You hugged him, “Thanks Ice.”

********* (18)

“I still can’t believe you chose Arkansas for college. You’re smart enough to go to MIT. You got accepted into MIT! And you chose Arkansas?” 

You scoffed, smirking at your brother as he helped you move in, “Hey, don’t diss the Natural State, Brad. It’s beautiful here and you can’t deny that. Plus, it’d be such a weather change. I mean, freezing winters, no thanks. AND I got a scholarship to play softball.” 

Bradley sighed, sitting a box on your bed, “I know, I’m just gonna miss you.” You nodded, “I know, I’m gonna miss you too. This will be the first time we’re apart, but we have phones and I bet Ice will pay for your flight here.”

He just nodded, looking around, “Was that the last box?” You looked around also, “Yeah, I think so. Wanna go eat?” He smirked, “You read my mind.” You smiled, clapping your hands, “Let’s go!”

************* (Now 20)

You brought in a deep breath, rolling your neck, “Talk to me, Dad.” You eyed your catcher, seeing the signal she gave you. Breathing in through your nose, you wind up your pitch.

It flew right over the plate, right down the middle. Strike 3. Batter out. Ball game. Your team won.  

Your team rushed the mound lifting you into the air. “Bradshaw! Bradshaw! Bradshaw!” You laughed and pumped a fist in the air. You kissed two fingers and pressed them to the sky, something your mother had started doing at your games in honor of your father.

Your team put you on the ground and you went to the dugout going from there to talk over the game and develop a plan for tomorrow. (a/n: college games are played in series; Friday, Saturday, Sunday - best 2/3)

You left your team and went to your car. 

“Y/N!” 

You jumped, looking around frantically before finding a familiar face. 

“Bradley!” 

You sprinted across the parking lot jumping into your brother's arms. “I can’t believe you came!” “Of course I came! I wouldn’t miss my baby sister punching her ticket into the SEC Tournament.” 

He put you down and you looked at his face, seeing something that wasn’t there when you saw him at Christmas. “First, your only older than me by 12 minutes and second-”

You gestured to your upper lip, “That’s new.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Uh, yeah. I just thought-” “You look like him. You look a lot like him.” Bradley gave you a smile, hugging you one more time. 

“I mean, it could be fuller…” “Shut up,” he chuckled, gently shoving you away. You laughed.

You brushed some hair out of your face, “Oh, and about the SEC Tournament. We won't punch our ticket until tomorrow.” “Sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday,” he said, walking you back to your car. You shook your head, “It’s okay, Brad. I batted like shit yesterday anyway.” He laughed, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, Y/N.” “Oh no, it was pretty bad,” you snorted.

You got to your car and you picked up your bag that you had dropped. “Oh, by the way, Ice is here too but he left foooor uh…” Bradley racked his brain for the town name, it was right there.

You noticed his finger pointing in the direction of a town just North from where you were. You smiled, “Rogers?” 

He clapped his hands together, “Yes! Rogers! He said to call Sarah when we left and we’d find a place to eat at. They’re grabbing a room for the night. You know I probably need a room too.”

You scoffed, “Bradley Bradshaw, you are not staying in some over-priced hotel. Just come stay with me, I have an extra room.” “You sure? I don’t want Jason-” “Oh we broke up. He was an asshole. Plus he wouldn’t get a say anyway, not his place.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t really like him anyway. Would have messed up the Bradshaw genes.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh my gosh, shut up.” You shoved his shoulder, getting into your car, “Follow me and we can stop by my place then go to Rogers. I know you hate driving in cities.” He nodded, “Lead the way.”

*********

You pulled up to your place and parked, getting out real quick to clean the trash out of the floor. 

“Still using the floorboard as a trashcan, I see,” Bradley teased behind you before moving to help. 

Without missing a beat or looking up you retorted, “Still driving that museum piece, I see.” 

“Hey, she runs just fine, she ain’t that old.” You laughed, dusting your hands off before running a hand on the fading paint, “She needs a paint job.”

Bradley just shrugged before getting into the passenger seat, “I kinda like the faded look, gives it character.” “What, like the ceiling liner coming off? Does that give it character?” You questioned as you slid into the driver's seat. 

“It’s called a headliner and yeah I need to get that fixed. But can we go? I’m starving.” You laughed and threw the car in reverse, “Call Sarah and pick a place.” “Geez you sound like Mom.” You smiled, glancing both ways before turning onto the highway, “Thank you.”

*********** (21)

It was finally yours and Bradley’s 21 birthday, which meant you were at a bar having drinks.

“I didn’t know Arkansans had this much fun!” Bradley said with a laugh before tossing back a shot.

Bradley decided to spend the summer in Arkansas rather than have you come up to Virginia where he was going to school at UVA.

“Well, now you know!” Kendall, your current boyfriend, said raising his glass (of water) in a toast. 

You smiled, glad that Bradley liked Kendall when they met the same night he came to watch your game in April, back when Kendall had just been a friend. 

“So, why don’t we go back to the house? I’m kinda hating this bar right now,” you said. 

The bar had started to feel stuffy, and despite both of your parents being outgoing and ‘party people’, you and Bradley both had your moments where crowds became too much. But sometimes you and Bradley weren’t in sync.

“If that’s okay with Brad?” You turned to him, it was his birthday too and you wanted to make sure your brother had a good time. “Will there be drinks at the house?” You laughed, “Just barely 21 and you already love alcohol. But yeah, Kendall went and bought some this morning.” Bradley patted the bar, “Yeah, let’s go.” Kendall kissed your temple, “Thank goodness. I was getting so tired of water.”

In your tipsy state that made you laugh really hard, like full on ‘Goose’ laugh.

“You kill me. You really kill me!” You wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him before pulling away and mumbling on his lips, “Thank you for being the DD, Ken.” He pecked your nose, “Of course, Baby. Anything for you.”

“Hey if you two are done sucking face, can we go?” 

You laughed and flipped Bradley off before pulling your boyfriend in for another kiss. “Come on, he’s getting antsy. He might play the piano.. Again.” Kendall paid the tab and kept his arm around you the whole way out.

You got back to the house and all three of you had a few drinks.

Bradley had started to drink water, per the request of Kendall. 

“Hey, I know you’re having fun Bradley, but for your first time drinking maybe we should take it easy the rest of the night? Hangovers suck major ass the first time.” Bradley agreed and now he watched you, still drunk despite having your last drink about 2 hours ago when he also had his last..

“Kendall, take me to bed or lose me forever.” You had yourself sat on top of the counter, arms extended toward your boyfriend. Bradley chuckled, shaking his head but tensed slightly hoping that the one boyfriend he approved of wouldn’t take advantage of you like this.

“Sweet girl, you’re drunk. I’ll take you to bed, but you’re gonna go to sleep. Plus, you have training tomorrow. Your coach would kill me if I kept you up all night. Come on.” 

And with that, all the tension rolled off Bradley as Kendall carried you bridal style to your bedroom down the hall.

Kendall came back, chuckling lightly as he filled a glass with ice and water. He stood across the bar from Bradley. 

“You know, our parents would have liked you,” Bradley spoke up. 

Kendall gave a small smile, “You think so?” “Oh yeah. I’m sure of it. You make her happy, that’s all they could ask for in someone. You’re a good guy, Kendall. Dad definitely would have given you a hard time, but that just means he likes you. Mom, she definitely would be embarrassing Y/N,” Bradley gave a quiet chuckle and sipped his water. Kendall nodded, “It’s hard to imagine Y/N getting embarrassed.” “She got that from our dad. He definitely had zero shame.”

“She talks about them a lot. How carefree your parents seemed to be when they were together, even though she doesn’t remember much of it. She said she’s always wanted a relationship like that, and I want to give her that.” “I’ll hold you to that.”

********* (21)

You walked out of the arena a huge smile on your face, you just graduated.

“Hey Baby!” You looked up and saw Kendall, arms open ready for your embrace. “Kendall!” You ran and jumped in his arms. “I’m so proud of you baby.” You lifted your head, looking down at him, “And I’m proud of you.” You giggled and kissed him.

“Now that’s one for the photo album.” 

You pulled away, gasping at the voice. Kendall chuckled and put you down. “Bradley!” You ran once again and jumped into your brother's arms, legs wrapping around his waist. “Y/N!” He laughed as he caught his balance before wrapping you in a big hug.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” He put you down, “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He pecked the top of your head, well the top of your cap. “Why don’t we head out of here? Ice and Sarah are in the parking lot.” You nodded, “Let me get a couple pictures and then we can go.” You passed him your camera you had.

He held his hand up. “No need.” 

At the tilt of your head, he held up a camera of his own. A polaroid, your Dad’s polaroid. “Wait, is that…” He nodded, “Sure is. And I already got a photo with it.” He held out the photo and you took it.

It was you and Kendall, just a few moments ago looking down at each other. A beautiful sunset was your backdrop and you know who painted it.

“It’s beautiful, Brad. Thank you.” Kendall’s arm found its way around your waist, “Look at us, Baby. College graduates.” You nodded, still looking down at the photo. “I wish they were here…” Tears had gathered in your eyes as you looked at Kendall then to Bradley.

“Come here, Duckie,” Bradley opened his arms to you and you immediately fell into them. 

“They’re here. They’re always here. And they are so damn proud of you.” You nodded, sniffling a little, “Thanks Bradley.” 

“Plus, look at this photo,” he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up. “You know damn well Momma painted that just for you.” You giggled, tears still falling out of your eyes. “She loved sunsets.” “And she loved us. She would be over the moon right now to see you standing here. Dad would probably be openly sobbing that his baby girl is no longer a baby. Mav-” Bradley cut himself off, clearing his throat. 

You just nodded, because you both knew that if Mav hadn’t pulled your papers, you wouldn’t be here.

“I guess I should thank him. Cause had he not been a total asshat, I wouldn’t have been here.” Your brother pressed his lips into a thin line, “He doesn’t deserve it. Let him wallow in the fact you’re succeeding. Cause I certainly will.” He ended with a smirk prompting you to step back in shock, “Wait, did you get into flight school?” 

He nodded, fully smiling now. “Brad! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You squealed, feigning offense. “I wanted to surprise you!” “Well consider me surprised. I’m so happy for you! I’m proud of you, Bradley.” 

Tears brimmed his eyes, your approval and praise was all he needed to know he had someone that thought he could do it. Someone that would support him. 

He pulled you into another hug, “Thank you, Duckie.”

When you pulled away, Kendall clapped Bradley on the shoulder, “Congrats man.” He patted his hand before holding up the camera, “Now, I believe we need to get some photos. And we better hurry, Ice really wants to go back to that Mexican place.” You all laughed and moved to find your friends and teammates to take pictures; both on the polaroid and digital camera.

Now, once the photos were developed, you made a copy of three photos. One of you, one of you and Kendall, and one of you and Bradley. Then you would slide those photos into an envelope and send them to Ice, a long with a special note.

************

CHAPTER ONE IS HERE

let me know what you guys think and i may post the next part tomorrow when i get home from class

but i’ve been sitting on this series since like August so i’m very excited to put this out there

top gun tags <33 (i will put these in the comments as well): @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​

lmk if you want to be tagged :D

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance: The Outtakes - Coda

Word count: 3.8k

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, language, angst, smut.

A/N: Hey! Welcome to Vigilance: The Outtakes! Not everything can make the cut, right? These outtakes will be short snippets of things that we cut from the original story during the editing process, but are still important to the overall storyline and may even provide a bit of background information on previously mentioned plots, characters and themes. These outtakes will not be posted on a schedule, but will be released as we see fit. Keep your eyes peeled you won't want to miss these!

JUNE 2021

SAM POV

You throw your car keys on the kitchen island, letting the back door slam shut behind you. You pull your phone from your pocket, seeing the text from Y/N that she was on her way, before quickly shoving it back into your pocket. You hastily tried to pick up your house before she arrived, although you knew she wouldn’t care. As you threw dirty clothes into the basket your mind wandered back to your conversation with Jake at the studio today.

It was never your intention to hurt Jake of course, although part of you had to know it would. But part of you also didn’t care. You pushed the thoughts from your head as you made the bed, and made your way back into the kitchen, just as you heard the faint knock on the door. 

As you twisted the lock, and opened the door, you saw her standing there in the yellow porch light, bag in hand.

“Hey beautiful.” you said ushering her inside. 

“Hey Sammy!”  she replied, dropping her bag by the door. 

She was dressed comfortably, a pair of linen shorts and a tank top. Appropriate attire for the humid Tennessee summer. 

You both walked over to the couch, plopping down into the clay colored cushions and resting your arm across the back of the couch. She took a seat next to you, letting her head fall into your shoulder as she tucked her legs up underneath her. 

You grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned on the TV, “Do you remember what episode we stopped on the other day?” you ask, selecting the option for ‘Twin Peaks’.

“I think four?” she replies.

You click the button on the remote, and the intro begins to play. After a few minutes you both realized it wasn’t four, but actually three that you stopped on, selecting it, and getting back on track. 

You placed the remote next to you, and lifted your feet to rest on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle. 

The room is silent except for the sounds of the fan blowing in the corner, and the scene flashing across the TV screen. Halfway through the episode she turns to you, “Oh, how was your practice thing tonight?” she asked, leaning further into your side.

“Ahh, it was…fine I guess. Sounded good, just normal bickering. Jake was in a shit mood as usual.” you answered. 

“Oh really?” she asks.

“Yeah, keeps showing up to the studio drunk. Picking fights with everyone.” you replied.

“Oh. Maybe there is something going on with him and Sophia…” she says.

“Shit, probably. That girl is…” you trail off, waving your hands through the air. 

“Her and I didn’t have the most pleasant of meetings, I will admit.” she says with a giggle. “That day before the party was our first time meeting.You two just left me there with her. I didn’t even know what to say, really. I don’t think she knew that Jake and I…”

“Yeah, Jake hasn’t ever told her. He doesn’t really…talk…about it.” you say. 

“Probably for the best.” she giggles.

“I, for one, had lots of fun at that party though.” you growl into her ear, running your hand down her silky smooth thigh.

“Oh yeah? Did you?” she asks, turning her head to look up towards you.

“Mmhm…In the backseat of my car... God damn…I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” you say, letting your fingers slip under the hem of her shorts. 

“I bet…” she grins, sliding her hand over your leg.

“Are we done watching? Can we just skip to the part where I turn it off and take you to bed?” you laugh. 

“I think we can skip to the good part, but one day we will have to make it past episode three.” she says, sitting up to straddle your lap.

You grab her face in your hands, “Not today.” you say, pressing your lips to hers. She winds her hands around your neck, pulling herself closer to you, as you let your hands move to rest at her hips. 

She rolls her hips into you as her tongue swipes against your bottom lip. You part your lips to let her in, feeling her lick into your mouth like silk. With one more roll of her hips you are standing up, and carrying the two of you into your bedroom, hitting the kitchen lights on the way. 

You push the bedroom door open with your foot, never letting your mouth leave hers. You toss her onto the bed, her body bouncing up with the force. You begin pulling your shirt over your head as you turn off the overhead light, and flip on the lamp. You toss your shirt into the corner and pull the elastic from your wrist, tying your hair into a knot at the back of your head. 

She watches you from the bed, leaning on her elbows, with a smirk. 

“Don’t smirk at me baby, you know what it does to me.” you warn, her grin never faltering.  

You snap your fingers as you point at her, “Clothes. Now.” your tone stern and pointed. 

Her smile widens, as the words leave your mouth. You knew she loved it when you got high-handed with her. 

“Or what, Sammy?” she prompts.

You kick your shorts to the floor, and walk closer to her, “Do you want to find out?”

“Actually…” she says, voice lilting.

“That’s a dangerous game baby…” you warn, bringing your face close to her ear, “Are you sure you want to play?”

Her hand reaches between the two of you, grasping your length in her fist, giving you a few rough strokes, “Mmmm…The only game I like to play.”

She releases you, pulling herself out from under you before making a show of removing her clothes. 

“No bra tonight?” you ask, your eyes instantly drawn to her chest. 

“Too hot out, you don’t mind, do you?” she says, sending you a wink.

She shimmies out of her shorts and underwear, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“Come here Sammy, let me see you…” she asks. 

You step over to her, your length at eye level with her as she takes it into her hand once again, running her silky smooth palm up and down a few times. She pulls you a bit closer to her, and you watch as her tongue darts out to lick a warm stripe up the underside of the head. 

You weave your hand into her waves, and swallow as she takes you into her mouth. She’s warm and perfect and it would be a lie if you didn’t think about this exact scenario in the shower this morning.

You let your eyes flutter closed as her lips descend around your cock, her tongue swirling around you with each stroke. Your hips buck forward into her throat, and you feel her tense around you causing the tension to grow in your groin.  

“Fuck, Y/N… that shit ruins me every time baby…” you breathe. “It’s so good…”

She takes you further again, swallowing around your tip, gently nudged into the back of her throat, and a groan leaves your mouth at the sensation. 

“God your mouth feels so fucking good…” you groan, vowing to yourself to not let yourself finish until you are deep inside of her. She starts to pull off of you, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, as you pull her back to you and push yourself into her mouth.

“I didn’t say you could pull off, Y/N…keep going. You look so fucking pretty with my cock down your throat.”

She continues to work herself up and down your length, eyes locked on yours, a sight you wanted to commit to memory. 

“Let me take a photo of you, baby.” you ask, feeling her begin to slow her tongue. 

She pulls off of you hesitantly, “A picture… of…this?” she asks.

“I want you on film. No one will ever see it. Just me.” you promise.

“You swear?” she asks.

“On my life.” you reply. 

She nods her head, and you take a few steps to your dresser to grab your camera. You quickly check the film, and return back to her, placing the camera on the bed next to her. 

“Are you gonna take it?” she asks.

“Yeah, baby. I will take it when you aren’t expecting it, it will be better that way.” you say, smoothing the hair out of her face. 

She returns her mouth to you, causing you to groan. She takes you to the back of her throat, and bobs there for a minute, the wet noises causing you to twitch in her mouth. You know it won't be long, and as you feel the tension start to build you grab your camera. You hold the eyepiece to your eye and point it down at her, completely full of you. 

“Look at me lovely…” you ask, and as her eyes meet the lens you snap the photo. 

“Shit that is going to be gorgeous. You take it so well baby.” you say, jutting your hips forward into her mouth. 

She pulls off of you, and places a kiss to your stomach before she scoots herself backwards on the bed. 

You quickly walk over and set your camera back on the dresser, flipping the lightswitch, leaving the room dark as you crawl to meet her on the bed. 

“You gonna fuck me like you did that night? You gonna ride me, or am I going to fuck you like I did when we got home?” you whisper into her ear.

“I’ll fuck you Sammy, that’s one thing I’ll never turn down…” she breathes.

You lay back onto the pillows as she moves to straddle your waist. You place your hands on her thighs as she slides her wetness over your length, moaning at the friction against her clit. 

After a minute or two, she grabs your dick, lining it up with her center, and letting gravity slide her down until fully seated. Her hands rested on your stomach, and even in the darkness of the room you could see the satisfied look on her face as you filled her completely. 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful on top of me like this Y/N… I swear to god I’ve never seen something more beautiful.” you pant. 

Your words cause her to clench around you, a silent indication that she likes it when you talk to her. 

She begins to roll her hips as you let your hands help guide her back and forth. She is fluttering around you, and her breathing is jagged. 

“Yeah? You like that? You like when I tell you how gorgeous you are sitting on my cock?” you say, snapping your hips up into her. She whines at the direct hit to her g-spot and you feel her tighten around you. 

“Yeah, you do like it. I can feel your tight little pussy begging for more.” you say.

She pulls herself up before dropping back down onto you with force, her cries filling the room as she repeats the same movement over and over. You bring your hands to her tits, pinching her nipples with every drop she makes, further accentuating her pleasure. 

“You take my cock so well... Your mouth, your pussy, where else can you take me baby? Take me so fucking good. So fucking perfect. Look at you, I bet you feel so full like this.” you say, watching her continue to drive herself down onto you. 

You can tell she’s close, and you know you’re there with her, talking to her like this starting to push you to your finish as well.

“Roll over baby, let me fuck you how you like it. How you deserve, god you earned it tonight. Such a good girl.” you say, feeling her pull off of you. 

She switches places with you, her hair splayed out beneath her, as her hands come up to wrap around your waist. 

You align yourself with her and press into her, feeling her body suck you in until your bodies meet. You begin to snap your hips into her, hard and fast, just the way she likes it, causing a moan to leave her chest. 

Your hair has begun to fall from your bun, hanging in strands around your face as a sheen of sweat overtakes both of your naked bodies. A small crystal pendant swings between the two of you, as you continue to rut your hips into her. 

“You close baby. You gonna cum for me?” you ask, feeling yourself starting to teeter on the edge. 

“Yes… please Sammy. I want you… please…” she begs.

You press her knee to her chest, giving you more leverage to get her there, pressing deep into that spot you’ve come to know so well. She whines at the deeper strokes, and as her eyes connect with yours, you feel her tighten around you. 

“Fuck Sam….” you feel her release wash over you, warm and tight as her name leaves her lips.

You fuck into her one last time, cumming deep inside of her with a groan on each spurt of your release. 

“Sammy… Sammy… don’t pull out yet. Just stay there. Just for a minute…” she begs.

You release her leg, letting it lower down to meet the other, you still tucked away inside of her. You rest your weight on top of her, your chest still heaving from the exertion. 

“Do you…mean those things when you say them or… do you just say them because you know it gets me off to hear it?” she asks.

You let out a chuckle on top of her, “Which things…”

“You know which things…” she says, twirling her fingers through the tips of your escaped strands. 

You sit up on your elbows, looking at her, “When I tell you you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, yeah. I mean that. When I tell you that you take me so well, yeah. I mean that too. Honestly in the heat of the moment I just say whatever comes to mind. All of it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you just to get you off faster, because the truth of the matter is that I never want it to end.” you admit.

“Everything ends eventually, Sammy…” she says trailing off.

You lay your head down on her chest as you feel yourself fully softened inside of her now. You stare off into the dark room, as you feel her words pierce your heart. ‘Everything ends eventually…’

You roll off of her and into the bathroom to get her cleaned up, and back into bed. The two of you fall asleep wrapped in one another as you so often have the past few weeks. As your eyes fluttered closed, part of you thought that maybe this didn’t have to end. You never wanted it to. Now that you’ve had her, how could you ever live without her?

—

HER POV

You aren't sure what woke you. Maybe the heat of the summer night, or the feeling of the warm body next to you suddenly missing. As you slide your arm across the sheets you feel nothing but the cool cotton under your fingers. You rub your fingers across your eyes, ridding yourself of the sleep collected there. Your eyes flick to the clock on his nightstand. 3:48. Your body was tired, beginning to grow sore from the night's activities.

You rolled over to your side and saw the light coming into the room from the cracked bedroom door, and as you sat up in the bed, you heard a sound you hadn’t heard in a long time. Pulling yourself up from the bed you wrapped yourself in the sheet, before peering out the door and down the hallway. Just the light from the sunroom filled the house, and as you stepped out into the hall you heard it and knew for sure. 

The piano…

You snuck quietly down the hall, peeking your head around the corner to find Sam, hunched over at his piano as he stared off into space. That’s when you recognized it. It wasn’t just some song he was playing, no. It was your song. 

You pulled yourself from around the corner and made your way through the kitchen and into the sunroom where the piano sat, covered in green plants and trinkets from around the world. 

You caught his eye, a mass of sheets and disheveled hair, and a smile crossed his lips. He pulled his fingers from the keys and looked over to you, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up? I was in my own world for a second.” he asks, full of concern.

“No, I… woke up and you weren’t there…” you answer, voice still shaky. 

“Was that…” you trail off, approaching him at the piano bench. 

He turns and opens his arms to you, pulling you down to sit on his lap. He positions his head onto your shoulder, peering over at the keys, as his fingers begin to dance across them once again. 

You can feel his smile on your skin as the familiar song plays out again. “It is our song…our prom song…” you say, rubbing your fingers across his forearm. 

“Yeah, ‘Wonderful Tonight’. One of the first songs I taught myself.” He laid a light kiss to the back of your shoulder, letting his lips rest there while he concentrated. 

”Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I come out here. Play for a while. Let my brain work through whatever is keeping me awake. I just revert back to my muscle memory songs. Songs that I just… know. I don’t have to think about it. My hands just know what to do…” he says, trailing off. 

“This is one of them?” you ask and you feel him nod against you. 

“Put your hands on top of mine…” he whispers, positioning your fingers on top of his. “Just move with me, okay?” 

His fingers begin to slowly glide across the keys in a way that makes it feel like you’re playing the song yourself. You feel him press a soft kiss to your bare shoulder again as you both work together to make the beautiful song come to life. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep Sammy…What’s bothering you?” you ask.

He lets out a defeated sigh, “The uncertainty of the future…” he answers.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you reply.

“Can you predict the future?” he laughs.

“Not quite…” you say.

“Then no. For now, just being here, like this… is all I can ask for.” he answers, bringing his mouth closer up the side of your neck, his breath tickling your skin.  

You sat like that for another song, letting him guide your hands over the ivory keys. It felt intimate, being with him like this. You felt a tug at your heartstrings at the thought of him being scared of what his future held. The uncertainty of what would happen in the coming weeks, months, years even. You knew you’d be there for it, whatever it would be. You wouldn’t leave him. Not again. Not now. And you silently promised that to him right then and there. 

Neither of you spoke much more. It was quiet and serene, letting the soft notes of the piano fill the space between you. It seemed like now he was just playing whatever came to his mind, making up beautiful melodies as he went along. You were in awe of his talent...you didn’t get to watch him his element on the piano often, let alone feel it along with him. 

Every few minutes you’d feel him run his nose across your skin ever so slightly causing a shiver to crawl up your spine. He had a way of touching you like you’d never experienced before. He had committed to memory all of the places he’d learned that made you weak in the knees. He was deliberate but it came naturally to him, like he understood your body with every fiber of his own being. With one final song, he flicked the lamp off and closed the lid over the keys. 

You moved off his lap and onto the bench next to him, still cocooned in his bedsheets. He brought his eyes to yours in the dim light of the sunroom, leaning his arm down to bring himself close to your face. He looked at you with something new in his eye, something unsure. He pursed his lips together as his breathing suddenly became rapid. He slipped a quick breath through his teeth, catching a word on his tongue, but never letting himself speak. 

Instead, he slowly brought his lips within centimeters of yours, pausing to flick his eyes to your lips. He was still breathing heavily, almost nervously, like he hadn’t ever been this close to you before. 

“Y/N, can I kiss you?” He whispered, the heat of his words completely taking your breath away. You found yourself lost for any words, and all you could do was nod. He finally allowed his lips to barely touch yours, almost so lightly that you couldn’t tell they were there, before he exhaled hard, pressing them fully in to yours. 

His hand found your mess of hair, gently, slowly, taking it into a lightly-grasped fist while his tongue explored your mouth as if it were his first time doing so. The heat rising in your chest wasn’t from lust, it didn’t feel like the normal carnal intrigue he usually brought you. This was something…else. 

You kissed him back for a long while, neither of you taking it any further, but simply just taking the time to be intimate. After a whirlwind of emotions had flooded your brain, making you lightheaded, you separated, staring at each other once again. 

“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed…” he said, standing and pulling you behind him, his hand in yours. 

He curled up into you instantly, and you felt his breathing even out as he finally drifted off into a content slumber. You laid there next to him, and suddenly you were the one unable to sleep. Something deep down told you that those feelings you thought were never there, were beginning to take shape into something new and unfamiliar. Had you been lying to yourself all this time? It scared you, this strange feeling, but it felt more comfortable and welcoming than anything you’d felt in a long, long time. 

You could no longer picture your life without him in it. You wanted him in a way that was new and foreign and completely unexpected. You couldn’t deny that traitorous feeling in the pit of your stomach, and even more you wondered if he felt it too. 

.

.

.

.

.

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Taglist:

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner @eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical@ageofbajabule@ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @profitofthedune @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler21 @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks @darianh07 @cassiesgreta @becinabubblegvf @hanntisocial

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Young Love and Old Money

Summary: this series follows the story of Lewis Nixon and Josephine Wills and their trials, tribulation and love throughout WW2, including stories of their friends in between. Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, heartbreak.

Masterlist Moodboards

Aldbourne May 1944

Josie hadn’t been able to face watching the trucks leave. As soon as Lewis had told her of the 506 impending departure from Aldbourne she felt as though her life was over. Just a short five months ago she had been walking down a flower-lined altar to marry the love of her life and now she could be losing him forever. Time with Lewis had been few and far between, as the intelligence officer he was often away sorting out plans and ensuring that the invasion would go off as smoothly as possible considering the circumstances. Civilians weren’t meant to know the invasion plans but Lewis trusted Josie implicitly and she was sworn to secrecy. She felt as though if she knew what was to unfold it would make their parting easier but it didn’t. If anything it made the whole situation worse because she now knew that her husband would be throwing himself out of a situation plane over Normandy probably under fire from German artillery. What’s not to worry about?

The trucks had been rumbling by since the early hours when Josie still lay in bed, cold and alone as she stared at the bare ceiling. Lewis had stayed at the barracks that night so he was on hand and could depart with the others so he had said his goodbyes to her that afternoon. Even though they both knew it was coming, nothing could have made it easier. To Josie, this was the last straw. Jess had already been shipped overseas and was working at an aid station in France. Lewis, Dick, Eugene, George and Julian were all shopping off for the Normandy invasion. Will was off flying God knows where. All of a sudden Josie felt truly alone.

“I’ll be back in no time Josie. Sink has promised 3 days and nights of fighting and we will be relieved. I’ll be back in Aldbourne before you even have time to miss you,” Lewis reassured her, peppering her cheeks with sloppy kisses that caused a small smile to break upon her lips.

“But I already miss you, Lew and you haven’t even left,” Josie knew she sounded pathetic and whiny but she didn’t care. Her husband was leaving her for his potential impending doom, she had every reason to be upset.

“I know. I miss you too but you knew this was coming. We all did but I promise I’ll always find my way back to you,” Lewis chipped her cheek tenderly, his wedding band feeling cold and familiar against her skin. Josie could recall so many nights with their hands in twined, her fingers running over the gold band. It amazed her how something so simple could signify so much. She only hoped that over in Normandy her love could still protect him as if she still had him in her arms, tucked up in their bedroom in Aldbourne.

As for Lewis, he knew far more than he was letting on, the perks of being an intelligence officer one could suppose, but he wasn’t about to let Josie know that. He didn’t want to worry her, knowing that she had more than just him to worry about in this fight. For a start, he’d have to find a way to keep George and Julian as far away from any potential trouble as possible. As for Jess, Lewis had already contacted the field hospital she was at and asked the medical officer there to inform him of any planned movements or relocation of staff. Even if he couldn’t be there for his wife he was going to make damn sure he’d protect those she loved at all cost.

Normandy 6th June 1944

The Sherman lurched and cranked its way down the muddy farm track, its large caterpillar treads churning the mud beneath them, gouging deep into the ground. The incessant whistling and wiring was getting on Lewis’ nerves and he was beginning to regret his decision to hitch a ride with the 2nd Armoured Division straight off of Utah beach. Lewis felt his body rock back and forth and the tank trundled downwards towards the old farm buildings where the 506 had gathered. A familiar redhead appeared on the side of the road and he called out to the tank commander to stop the convoy. Lewis smiled down at Dick who was still sporting his blackened face from the D-Day drop.

“Going my way?” He called out, watching a small smirk appear on Dick’s lips.

“Sure.”

Lewis helped Dick climb up beside him, warning him not to hurt himself which caused Dick to shove him lightly and the pair laughed as the tank convoy continued down the track.

“So, how was your jump?” Lewis asked, watching as his friend thought over the previous night's escape.

“Can’t complain. Lost my M1 and my leg bag snapped so until I found the rest of Easy I was with a kid called Hall.” Nixon looked on sympathetically as Dick recalled taking the gun batteries at Brecourt Manor. Lewis enjoyed his job as Intelligence Officer but he sometimes felt as though he wasn’t really in the fight, although from the recollections of other soldiers, he was glad to be further from the front at times.

“How did you leave things with Josie?” Dick asked, as they clambered down from the Sherman and thanked the crew for their lift.

“She was upset. She didn’t come to watch the trucks leave but we said our goodbyes. I promised her it would only be three days and nights but I’m beginning to feel like that was just a moral boost.” Dick laughed in agreement. Neither of them could believe that they had dropped into Normandy just for the so-called ‘three days and nights of hard fighting’ to then be relieved.

London July 1944

Josie sighed, stepping quickly down the concrete steps of the Royal London Hospital, her heels tapping rhythmically as she hurried towards the bus stop. She had completed her final day of training with the Voluntary Aid Detachment. Seven long weeks of hard training in first aid, home nursing and medical hygiene had all led to this moment and having completed her final examination she was officially part of the VAD. Josie had signed up shortly after Lewis left, ‘well there was no point sitting at home and moping,’ she had thought as she posted her application the morning of Easy Company’s departure from Aldbourne.

Josie clutched her hand tightly around her handbag, ensuring it didn’t blow open as she hurried down the bustling London streets. The letter for Lewis and her call-up papers were neatly enclosed. She had written to Lewis the previous night explaining everything that had happened since he’d left for Normandy. The VAD normally required a trial of one month working in a hospital and then three months of ‘hard work’ before being offered a full-time position in a hospital. However, with the number of casualties in Normandy and the demand for more nurses, Josie had completed further practical training in a London teaching hospital alongside her VAD training and had been one of a handful of women who were selected to ship out to Normandy.

A car horn behind her caused Josie to jump, spinning on her heels to come face to face with the familiar Austin and a cheerful pilot behind the wheel.

“Will?” She called, approaching the window as it rolled down and revealed the familiar face.

“Hello Jojo, where are you heading in such a hurry?” He smirked, leaning casually against the steering wheel. His blue eyes shone in the afternoon sun and were radiating light, unlike the eyes of the men Josie had been treating those last few weeks.

“I need to catch the bus. I’m heading back to Aldbourne tonight and if I miss this one I have to wait an hour for the next one and I won’t get home before dark,” Josie explained hurriedly, conscious that every minute she wasted talking to William was another minute she would be late for her bus.

“What’s the rush, Josie? Surely we could spend the evening catching up. I haven’t seen you since your wedding,” William gave her a pleasing look, a look he knew that Josie had never been able to resist.

“Okay, fine,” she opened the car door and hopped in, her summer dress causing her to slip against the car's leather seats. “One drink okay and then we need to head back to Aldbourne.”

“You have my word.”

William had always been a man of his word but as the two friends reminisced and caught up one drink turned into two, turned into three and by midnight they were walking arm and arm along the road to a hotel. Josie snorted loudly at something William had said and the pair fell through the grand, silver door of an expensive hotel.

Following Will to their respective rooms, Josie wandered up the lavish corridors that were clad with red, leather wallpaper and mirrors that were spaced a meter apart from each other. When they reached their hotel rooms opposite each other Josie turned, pushing a key into the lock and turning it. The door swung backwards on its hinges and revealed the darkened room.

“Well, this is me. I had a really lovely time tonight, Will. Thank you for taking my mind off everything,” she gestured around her with a sigh. Between Lewis leaving, constant bad news from France and her VAD training Josie had barely had time to stop and breathe.

“I had a really splendid time too,” Will admitted, leaning closer to Josie against the doorframe. “A really good time.” Josie felt William leaning towards her and without a second thought, she pushed him backwards, sending him stumbling over the hallway rug.

“William, stop! What I’m God's name do you think you’re doing?” Josie gasped, looking in utter horror at the man she had once called a friend. “Will, I trusted you.” She could feel hot tears polling in her eyes and trickling down her red cheeks, her mascara running in dark black smudges.

“Josie, I’m so sorry…” William stepped towards her but Josie raised her hand to stop him.

“How could you, William? I’m married.”

“Yes, but to the wrong man. You were always meant to marry me, ever since we were children. It was written in the stars.” William pleaded, his hands clasped out in front of him but Josie stepped backwards into her room, pulling the door closed with her.

“Good night, William.” She knew her voice sounded colder than she would have liked. William had been her friend for many years and had stood by her despite her parents but this was a step too far. Josie didn’t bother to turn on the lights, she fumbled her way across the room to the large double bed. She knew the covers would be lavish, everything about the place was grand and in normal circumstances Josie would have been exploring all the amenities of the room but not tonight. She fell like a rag doll onto a bed, her tears falling faster and heavier now as she sobbed into the sheets. Josie had felt alone ever since Lewis and her friends left for France but now she felt even more alone because she had lost her only remaining friend.

“I miss you, Lewis,” she sobbed, bawling her hands into her eyes like a child. “Please come home.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

June of Doom day 12

“it’s no use” (explosion, fainting, trembling) 

Content warning: death mention (not in detail)

As Whumper made their way through the rubble of Leader's base, they were surprised with just how well everything had gone. Leader and everything they'd work to build was gone, reduced to a pile of rubble and broken bodies. They'd finally won.

But, it seemed, there were a few loose ends that needed to be tied.

Whumper watched as Youngest limped through the broken landscape. They were a disheveled mess, with blood dripping from their head and staining their hair. Their left arm hung limp at their side and they were clearly avoiding putting pressure on their left leg. They looked ready to drop in a dead faint. And yet, when Whumper looked into Youngest’s eyes, all they saw was rage. Youngest stared at Whumper without a hint of fear.

"So I missed one. How nice of you to come to me," Whumper addressed Youngest, casually taking a step towards their approaching form. Youngest did not waiver.

"You. This was you, it’s always–” Youngest gave a shaky breath, shivering. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Amused, Whumper smirked. “Really? You’re going to kill me?” They laughed, not even bothering to keep an eye on their approaching foe. “Go on then, I’m in a good mood. Try,”

That was all the encouragement Youngest needed. With a scream of rage, they ran at Whumper. Their movement lacked any of the grace or deadly precision of their now dead teacher. Youngest was sloppy and predictably, movements slowed either by their injuries or simply inexperience. Whumper easily sidestepped their attacks, waiting for the right moment to hook a foot around Youngest’s injured ankle. With a choked scream, Youngest fell to the ground.

Youngest practically growled, reaching out towards Whumper’s leg. Whumper kicked them away, pressing their heel hard into their injured shoulder. Even as Youngest screamed in pain, tears forming in their eyes, the look of utter hatred didn’t lave their face.

“You are quite the spirited thing, aren’t you?” Something close to affection bubbled up in Whumper’s chest. Youngest was pathetic. They had to be stupid, because anyone with half a brain would know how utterly hopeless their situation was. The fact that they had the audacity to fight Whumper, when playing dead would have been so much better for them, was almost enduring. Like a chihuahua attempting to fight a bull dog.

They could see Youngest’s face rapidly going pale, their injuries beginning to take their toil. Still, they struggled. “I’ll kill you! I swear to god I’ll kill you for what you did!” They continued to growl, words beginning to slur together as their eyes grew hazy.

It was like watching an exhausted toddler insist they weren’t tired. “You are adorable, do you know that?” They lifted their foot, only to slam it into Youngest’s stomach, earning them a breathless yelp. “You know, you’re lucky I’m in such a great mood. Otherwise, I would probably have just killed you...”

They could see Youngest loosing the battle to maintain consciousness. With a groan, they clutched Whumper’s foot, fingers weakly tugging. Their head was flopped weakly onto the ground, mouth open as they gasped for air.

“You know what?” Whumper smiled down at Youngest. “I think you’d make a great prize. I think I’ll keep you.”

[xcaptain-winterx]

Babes 🖤 can I request something super fluffy and cuddly and loving with Jimmy? Maybe like reader or OC is overworked (job or uni), feels anxious about the still remaining amount of work and is touch deprived? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Love you 🥰

I love you too, sweetheart🥰💛

Cuddle To Go

summary: above

warnings: fluff, stress, mentioning of smut, mentioning of men’s wieners

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Masterlist 2 Jim Pace Masterlist

You hate people more than anything, ok, not hate hate, but hate. Since June, you’ve been working on your new collection for the Berlin fashion week, and it was going great until it wasn’t. Apparently you forgot some designs. Not one, not two, or three, but twenty-one! Now you have to come up with twenty-one more looks, then order the fabrics, book more models, and more. All this needs to be done in three weeks, in which you will not get any sleep. To that comes the fact that you’re currently uninspired. The looks you already designed are inspired by the 18th century and took you months to design.

You let out a scream of frustration as you throw another sketch in the trash. The bin is already full of failed designs. Either they don’t match the rest of the collection, don’t follow the theme, or are just straight-up bad.

You are close to crying at this point; everything is going wrong. How could you be so stupid and forget about it? You should’ve focused more on work and not on anything else. Or anyone.

The table moves as your phone starts to vibrate, making you let out an annoyed growl. You ignore it and continue trying to design something good. A few seconds later, the phone stops vibrating, and the only sound throughout your apartment is the ticking of the clock, which is formally telling you that your time is running out.

You try to think of something that would be runway acceptable.

Something

Anything

God

One thing

Think

Think

Think, Goddammit!

Why can’t you just do one thing right in your life! First you forgot about the designs, and now you can’t even think about some new designs! You should’ve never gotten distracted in the first place.

“Babe, where are you?”

Oh great. There’s the distraction. The reason you forgot about the show. The reason you couldn’t walk.

“Babe!” Jim screams again, confused as to why you’re not answering. Normally, you greet him at the door and give him a kiss. He’s often gone for some weeks because of his job, and with you, traveling for fashion shows, it happens that you don’t see each other for a month. You both always make sure to make up for the missed time. You spend hours showing each other how much you missed them.

Jim quickly walks through the whole apartment, a slight panic setting within him. The panic vanishes though, when he finds you in his office, the office you claimed as your office. A smile spreads on his face when he finally sees you, hunched over the table, wearing one of his dress shirts and women boxer shorts. Jim ignores the urge to take you from behind and empty his load inside you as he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“Hey, babe. Are you ok? You didn’t answer me”, he asks, rubbing soft circles on your stomach. It surprises him when you suddenly trash in his arms until you break yourself free from his embrace. “Hey!”

“God, stop that, Pace!” you hiss, not even trying to hide the frustration in your face or the annoyed face you make.

Jim looks at you confused as to why you are frustrated right now. Did he do something? Is he the reason you are acting like how women are portrayed on TV when they are having their periods. God, he hates male directors.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with patience and a soft voice, knowing that if he shows any irritation, it will get worse. He reaches for your hand only for you to slap it away, “Y/n”

“Can you please stop that, I don’t have time for that” you say, turning around and grabbing your pen again, ready to sketch something that will probably end up in the trash.

Jim puts his hands on his hips, this is not how he imagined his welcome home would be. Instead of ruining the carpet with some well deserved and passionate sex or even brutal fucking or at least some making out, he comes home to find his girlfriend in a bad mood. He doesn’t like that. Not because he doesn’t get to have some adult playtime with you, but rather because he hates seeing you unhappy.

“Babe” he tries again, “what going on?”. You give him no reaction, which makes Jim let out a groan. You roll your eyes as you hear his groan, but unknown to you, he has seen your eye roll in the reflection of the window.

Stupid Sierras

“Y/n” he goes for what feels like the hundredth time, “tell me what happened”.

“YOU HAPPENED!” you scream, turning around and facing him.

Jim stands there shocked; he didn’t expect you to have an outburst like that. He doesn’t remember that he did anything that could’ve led to you being this mad. He’s sure that he didn’t leave the toilet seat open when he left. He frowns, “What do you mean?”

“YOUR DICK HAPPENED!” you scream out, while pointing towards his crotch.

His eyes follow to where you’re pointing before looking back at you “my dick happened?”. He’s fucking confused.

“Yes, your fucking dick happened, you dick”

Jim tries to think of any outcome that could lead to you being like this because of his dick that has been in you weeks ago.

“Are you pregnant?”

Wrong

“WHAT!” you say, suddenly feeling more insecure than frustrated because of work, “do I look fat?!”

Taking your reaction into account, his assumption was wrong and brought him into a deadly situation. “No, no no no, I just thought that your emotional- no uh-just expression your emotions like that because of hormones- the intense feeling of uhm- growing life inside you”. Jim would like to shoot himself right now for sounding so stupid. “You look beautiful as always”, he shoots you a smile, hoping that at least that can make you feel more ‘comfortable’.

A exhausted sigh leaves your mouth, and you grab the half sketched design, “I need to have twenty-one looks, and I only have a maximum of three weeks for that.”

“I thought you already had all the looks?”

“I thought so too, but no, I didn’t” you say, slamming the sketch down, “and everything I sketch looks like shit-”.

Before you can say another word, Jim pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around you, “shh, it’s ok”.

You sink into his chest, face completely smooshed in his shirt, hiding from the world. He strokes your hair, kissing your head every other second and swaying a bit. When you finally decide to leave your hiding place, you see that you left a fat mascara stain on his white shirt. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “Sorry about your shirt, baby” you whisper, feeling embarrassed by the whole situation.

“It’s ok, love” he whips your tears away before giving each cheek a kiss and finally kissing your lips, “maybe you should take a break. How long have you been working?”

You look at the clock on the wall and see it’s 10:43 p.m., “about 16 hours, but-“.

The moment Jim hears how many hours you’ve been working, he picks you up, ignoring your gasp, and carries you to the living room. When he gets there, he lays you on the couch before squeezing in next to you and pulling you on top of him.

You desperately fight the urge to just relax, but the warmth of his body, his rich cologne, and the touch of his fingers drawing circles on your back makes it hard.

“You’re done with work for today, babe”

You can only give a small ‘ok’ due to the exhaustion that is just starting to show right now. Maybe it was stupid of you to work that long, knowing that you can’t come up with good ideas when you’re stressed and tired.

“Do you want me to call the concierge to get us some food, or something else?”, he ask.

“Later”, you move so your head is in the crouch of his neck, “I only need this right now”.

He chuckles, “ok, love”. He feels your eyes closing, your lashes tickling his neck.

It’s silent until Jim decides that he needs to ask you something before you fall sleep.

“So, my dick is such a huge problem that you forgot about your passion for designing and half of your collection”.

He yelps as you pinch his side. This man doesn’t care if he gets shot, but he yelps when he feels a pinch.

“Shh, Jim. We can talk about it later”, you say amused, with still closed eyes.

“Whatever you say, love”, he goes before closing his eyes too, smiling when you give him a soft kiss on his adam’s apple before drifting off into a soft slumber.