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dutiful-wildcraft · 2 days ago

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Life's Sweet Bells

A COD Farm Sim AU with omegaverse splashed in!

Poly 141 x F!OC. Masterlist

Pt. 3 Axes and Apples

Today was shaping up to be a no good very bad day.

Which Paloma supposes was bound to happen eventually.

But still.

She stares at the ground, her well worn axe broken at her feet. Shattered to pieces. She can still feel the sting in her palms from the final blow, a handful of splinters left in its wake.

She stares balefully at the culprit of such destruction. An old tree stump, impressive in its size, and right in the way of where she wanted a very lovely flower bed to be. She kicks it for good measure, a shock of pain shooting up her foot through her cheap work boots.

She stands stiff as stone, ruffled like a cat as she hisses in pain through clenched teeth.

Bad days happen, Paloma. Take a deep breath.

She tilts her head toward the sky and takes a long suffering breath, oppressive summer sun searing through her eyelids.

She'd done well to make a fair dent in clearing the debris from her farm, breaking down fallen logs and small stone boulders, clearing it meticulously to have a nice tillable surface.

But if she were being real honest?

She was tired.

Going non-stop since she arrived in town would do that she supposes.

She slept when she could, made her meals out of forageables and what extra eggs and milk Soap had given her.

Not that she was complaining! Soap was more than generous, and working with him had given her valuable learning opportunities as well as a new friend! Not to mention the coins he threw her way for her help, that was just a bonus.

Admittedly, money had been a little…tight. The move had cleaned out the majority of her bank account and while she was thankful her retail days were behind her, getting her money up had been a slow process.

Farming wasn't difficult per se. There were just lots of steps. Ones she tried to keep scribbled in her dusty little journal.

To get a farm started she needed money. To make money, she needed vegetables and animals. To keep vegetables and animals year round she needed her greenhouse and barn. To repair those she needed materials, and to get materials she needed better tools…that cost money.

It was a very annoying cycle, but one she had to jump into at her own pace, less she trip over herself and crash.

This meant taking rest days felt illegal. How could she? Everyone she'd met had been busting their butts to keep the village alive, bestowing her with a generosity she would have never imagined. Gifting her tools, giving her odd jobs. She'd promised herself she would pay them back when she could, do her part to help the community.

That meant now was not the time for rest.

With aching hands she shuffles back inside, leaving her axe in the front yard to rot. She takes her time plucking out the errant splinters, wrapping her poor blistered fingers as she ponders her options. The axe was a necessity for a fair amount of her chores, and she doubts super glue and a real sturdy stick would suffice as a repair.

She does however, know of someone who could repair it.

Ghost was one of the few townsfolk she'd yet to meet. Paloma had been nose to the grindstone since she arrived in town, building up a fair little nest egg of money. But in doing so had neglected her social duties, scuttling around the countryside getting into everything she could get her hands on.

She may have also been avoiding town to preserve what little change she had anyway. As if it were her fault that she loved little treats and silly knick-knacks.

Soap was obviously fond of the man, having rattled off his achievements to her with pride, chest puffed as he spoke. Paloma found it incredibly sweet to see how he practically gushed over his friend.

She’d teased him then, poking his shoulder playfully. I think you have a crush on him, she’d singsonged. Soap had only sported a big grin, cheeks flushing pink as he looked at her with a strange gleam in his eyes. Aye, something like that.

Ghosts achievements weren’t just embellished stories from Soap, but a common theme among everyone she’d spoken to. Ghost was one of the best blacksmiths in the country, albeit a little illusive, but Soap had told her that much as well.

He's a shy fella, you'll have to pay him a visit. You don't want him to feel left out do ye?

And today seems like the day to do just that.

She walks through town, old worn backpack over her shoulders and axe in hand.

Well.

Some of it.

The village was truly beautiful, charming little shops lining cobblestone roads. Lush trees cover the sidewalks, their foliage providing cool shade and the soft rustle of leaves, well kept flower beds adding appeal to the rustic storefronts. Soft blue flags hang from the sparse street lanterns, a winged sword insignia visible in the warm summer breeze.

It was quaint, quiet, with only a few passersby as she trots along.

And maybe she made her trip twice as long by getting distracted by the many lovely shop windows, displaying an assortment of fine clothes and food items. She'd almost barged into the inn, the warm familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee calling her name.

However, she'd prevailed. The change in her pocket a heavy weight as she drags herself to Ghost's shop. She finds herself standing before a rather intimidating heavy black door, “BLACKSMITH” painted in crude white paint.

The inside is no more polished. It’s a little dingey, a thin layer of soot covering most of the dark hardwood surfaces available. A large anvil stands around the corner, with tools upon tools lining its dusty walls: chisels, tongs, cutting tools, hammers of all shapes and sizes. Along with a myriad of other tools she couldn't even fathom the name of. Even from here she can hear a forge roaring somewhere in the back of the shop, making the summer sun outside seem preferable.

The whole place reeks of coal and metal, with something oddly sugary buried beneath, like breakfast, richly sweet. She tries to snuffle deeper, the sting of soot too much on her nose to huff any deeper in search of the source. Instead she timidly taps the bell on the counter, a loud ping, resonating through the small shop.

Her eyes linger behind the counter, where under soft glowing lights lays a small group of glittering ornate weapons. Beautiful swords inlaid with jewels, daggers made of fine gold, intricate details carved along the blade. They’re incredibly out of place amongst the dirt and cobwebs, but they're gorgeous. Treasures that looked like they belonged in the museum themselves.

Paloma is now certain of two things. One, that these weapons were worth more than she can fathom (if the sheer lack of a price tag were anything to go by). And two, she has never wanted a sword more in her whole life.

She imagines herself standing tall, the moon glittering off of her bright silvery blade, polished rose quartz and sapphires sparkling like stars as she swings it before her, transforming like the magical girls in her books. She would even have a pretty outfit and jewelry to match, ribbons made of galaxies weaved into her silvery hair.

“Those are commision.” a deep voice rumbles behind her, scaring her nearly a foot off the ground. She whirls, lips parting as she takes in the man before her.

Now when Paloma had thought of Ghost, she'd admittedly had something particular in mind. Ghost made tools yes, but he was also responsible for some of the most truly beautiful weapons. She’d pictured someone lean perhaps, with delicate hands to make the intricate pieces Soap had described to her. Someone that looked artsy and maybe even little posh for lack of a better term, yet tastefully dingey to show his work with the elements. As luxury artists usually looked like in the books she’s read.

This Ghost, is absolutely nothing of the sort.

This Ghost is big, casting a shadow upon her form where he looms just a few steps away. Broad as a barn and just as tall. A black neck gaiter covers the lower half of his face, the fabric bleached to resemble that of a skull. A heavy leather apron hangs over his shoulders, falling just shy of heavy boots, a plate of steel affixed to the toe. Rivulets of sweat cut paths through the layer of grime along his thick muscled arms, revealing a myriad of puckered scars and fine black ink underneath.

Oh.

She tilts her head to meet his eyes, pale blonde lashes highlighted against the heavy layer of soot that coats his short cropped curls and upper face. He crosses his arms, dark eyes surveying her.

“You'll catch flies like that” he rumbles, eyes flickering to her open mouth before bypassing her to step behind the counter.

She shuts her mouth with a click, hissing to herself before schooling her expression and turning towards him, an embarrassed blush still heating her cheeks.

She powers on.

“Hello! Was wondering if you could help me?” she smiles, chasing after him.

He turns, fingers drummin against the wood counter, contemplating.

“What ‘ave you got?”

“Well…” she trails, dumping the handle and handful of axe fragments against the counter, gnawing on her lip sheepishly as he stares between her and the shattered tool with no small amount of incredulousness.

The silence kills her. “You think you can fix it?”

He leans back, gloved palms picking up a larger piece to inspect. “Oh I can fix it, take me a day or so, but you’ll still have a shit axe.” he says dryly, shrugging a shoulder. “Or, I can just fashion you a new one, for a fee.”

He explains his pricing, and Paloma can’t help but wince, just a repair would cost her days worth of foraging, and a new one outright? Well that was simply out of the question. What if he’s right? How long until she broke it again? If she had a few good days of fishing she could make it up in a week or two. But that was up to chance and would definitely cut down on her time for mining and other foraging. Could Soap miss her for a few days?

She’s prepared to make up an excuse, tell him she left her wallet, when he speaks again.

“Unless” he drawls, pulling her from her thoughts “You provide the materials, then it’s just a small labor fee.” He rolls his shoulders lazily, leaning his ass against the back counter and propping up a thick thigh to rest comfortably.

She blinks at him. Materials?

“What kind of materials?”

“Could fashion one from stone, but you’ll end up with that again.” he gestures to the counter. “You’ll need somethin’ stronger if you're going go ‘round hackin’ down forests. Iron would be better, but copper’ll do.” he shrugs again.

She perks up at that, holding back her happy claps as squirms her backpack off in excitement. Her bag hitting the floor with a surprisingly heavy thunk.

She fishes around for a moment, and with a small grunt she hefts a sizable knapsack onto his counter, loose strings falling to reveal a small mountain or raw copper ore.

“Will this much work?”

The large man freezes, doing a subtle double take at the pile of glittering copper, brows knitted as his dark eyes flicker between them once again.

Paloma. Copper. Paloma. Copper.

She waits patiently, thinking about how lots of people have been giving her those looks lately.

Finally, he pushes himself forward, scooping up a small piece with a gloved hand, eyeing it closely.

In a flash he hikes up the mask, treating Paloma to the pale scars above his lip, along his neck. She watches him click the metal between his teeth curiously, giving a satisfied grunt before tossing it back into the pile lightly.

“That'll do”

The following days are almost painful with how giddy Paloma feels. It's not like she were getting new jewelry or a pretty dress. It was a bloody axe!

A new bloody axe.

“It'll take a few days. Just check back in.” he'd told her, waving back to her awkwardly as she'd bid him goodbye.

She did well to refrain from pestering him the very next day, instead, axeless and bored, she'd gone back to foraging.

She'd still yet to explore the farther corners of her property, and after a little jaunt she'd come to quite a lovely clearing, a singular loaded apple tree standing proudly in its center. She'd made quick work of plucking one of the bright red apples from its leafy nest, polishing the wax off with her shirt before taking a big bite. Sweetness bursting across her tongue in what must have been the sweetest, juiciest apple she's ever had in her life.

An idea strikes her then, and she gathers a basket full, enough to treat herself without making a noticeable dent in the tree's healthy supply.

She’s practically dancing as she rinses off her little prizes, oven already pre-heating.

She'd happily paid Ghost's labor fee up front, despite him telling her she could wait until after the service was done, but to her the fee itself had seemed suspiciously cheap.

While Paloma may not have been blessed in the way of money, she could bake.

Why not make up the difference with a little treat?

By the next day she is on Ghost's doorstep, little wicker basket in hand. She dings the small bell, busying herself with looking at his tool lined walls. The breakfast scent remains, stronger now, like syrup, with a familiar mix of rose and citrus that she can’t quite place.

“Not ready yet” comes a gruff voice from behind her, startling her once again. How does he move so quietly??

“That's alright! Here!” she holds the little basket in his direction. He pulls it from her hands carefully, eyeing it as if it were a bomb. The little basket looking comically dainty in his big paws.

“What's all this…?”

“For you! I know you work hard, and it's not exactly cash, but everyone deserves a treat!” she beams, watching him carefully pull the pretty plaid cloth away to take a peek.

She's quite proud of herself actually, it's the prettiest apple pie she's ever made, the crust carefully weaved and cooked to golden brown perfection, sugary crystals glistening in the light.

…Nevermind that the first one she butchered sits half eaten in her own fridge. Practice makes perfect after all.

The big man goes quiet, something odd flashing behind big brown eyes. He clears his throat, thanking her quietly, his almost strained.

She flashes him a sweet smile, patting him lightly on the bicep, and thinks nothing else of it. Some folks are peculiar about gifts, and she wasn’t going to stand around and watch him eat it like a weirdo. The next day, she is pleased as punch to find her little basket returned to her front porch.

In a few days time he fixes her axe, a beautiful shiny copper that makes demolishing tree stumps look like light work. So she requests upgrades for her other tools too, happily providing the materials.

Similarly she continues her visits, chatting idly at the man while he lumbers about. He's pretty funny when he does talk, telling her some of the corniest jokes she's ever heard, often giggling at his own bit. Humoring her questions when she asks with more patience than she expected.

So she keeps packing little gifts to the quiet blacksmith, a small fruit basket, little handmade pastries in the shape of hearts.

Small gestures of gratitude while he upgrades her tools one by one.

Each time the man looks more and more perplexed, brows knitting.

But she notices his jokes grow fewer, voice going dry when he speaks to her, his eyes either bore into her or refuse to look in her direction at all. He even stops taking her gifts, waving her away offhandedly when she sets them on the counter.

She reasons maybe he’s tired of sweets, so she changes tactics, starts gifting him particularly pretty gems she's found in the mines , even a small bundle of cucumbers and tomatoes she'd grown herself!

Yet he remains, aloof. Doing what he’s asked and shooing her away gruffly.

This time she reasons he’s just busy.

The next time she meets Ghost, he’s stiff, propped up on his back counter once again, arms crossed, simultaneously relaxed and also imposing. His eyes are trained on her, harsh pools of black that follow her from the door as she approaches his counter.

She still smiles.

It’s not uncommon for her to make up stories about people in her head, stories that say they’re mad at her when they’ve said nothing of the sort. So she ignores her gut, digging out a small little geode from her bag and setting it before him. She no more than opens her mouth, excited to show him the lovely clusters of amethyst within when he cuts her off.

“You tryin’ to court me?” he barks seethingly, and her stomach drops, forcing ice through her veins as her heart jumps pace.

She freezes in place, eyes turning to saucers in pure mortification.

Court him?

“I’m sorry…?”

“The bloody pies and this,” he glares at the geode on the counter. “can’t slap jewelry on me so you give me rocks?”

She thinks about her gifts, sweet treats and glittering stones…

It all clicks into place.

Memories flood forward, the scent of maple and brown sugar wafting around him, the pale crescent scars she’d got glimpses of on his shoulders, along his neck. Hidden carefully beneath his mask.

A dead light bulb flickers to life in the ignorant darkness of her mind.

Oh. Oh.

Her old home had been so far removed from old courting practices that the thought hadn't even occurred to her. She didn’t even know that he was-!

Pure embarrassment heats her entire body as the realization hits her. For all Ghost knows she was trying to pave her way into gifting him a bloody collar. And she’d carried on like a bumbling fool.

She stutters, mouth opening and closing like a guppy, cheeks red enough to paint roses as she frantically tries to explain herself. He stands now, towering, watching her with a harsh intensity that makes her want to dissolve.

“N-no!! Not like that!” He raises an incredulous brow, huffing at her. “Not that you're not pretty!” Shut up! Paloma! “It's just that you've been so kind and I thought you'd like something… I didn’t know.” she gestures vaguely, body beginning to tremble as the impending anxiety attack rears its ugly head.

“Didn’t know fucking what?” he snaps.

She curls in on herself at his tone, nails digging into her own cuticles for purchase. She musters all she can to meet his eyes, voice just above a whisper.

“I didn’t know you were like me.”

The room goes silent, all tension seemingly sucked out like a vacuum as the words leave her mouth.

Something seems to snap in Ghost too, shoulders sinking as his arms fall uselessly at his sides.

She stands there for a moment, carefully measuring her breaths in an effort to fight off anxious tears, before she bravely steps forward, plucking up her new and improved shovel with trembling hands. Nearly dropping it in the process, arms flailing as she just barely secures it, hugging it closely to her chest in an effort to maintain whatever scrap of dignity she had left.

She whispers another apology, unable to look at him anymore, too afraid to see the anger still lingering in his eyes. She leaves the geode on the counter, turning to leave without another word.

What Paloma failed to see, was not anger in the eyes of Simon Riley.

But guilt.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #call of duty #ghost x female oc #johnny soap mactavish #Life's sweet bells #wildcraft writing #farm sim au

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burningembers91 · 3 days ago

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Body Talk - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up Piece to:

Back Alley Bar Help Wanted

Synopsis: A night celebrating turns to something more when your hidden feelings finally bubble to the surface.

It was quiet in the bar tonight, Mondays usually were. You were grateful for the respite; glad you could use the time to cram some more for your exam. You weren’t sure how you’d made it to the end of your first year of university, but somehow you were on track to come top of your class. You’d managed to juggle studies while working two jobs and had stayed semi-sane in the process. You knew Seong Gi-Hun was to thank for that, always there to help if you were struggling, always making sure you had a smile on your face. He was next to you now, quizzing you using the flash cards you’d spent hours making the night before. He’d become a different person in the last few months, had transformed before your eyes. Gone was the man who drank himself to death each night, who barely remembered to shower and eat. Gi-Hun now made sure his hair was always styled, made sure he was always wearing a nice shirt when he saw you. He’d been sober for nearly nine months, and had started going to the gym. A steady job at a warehouse meant he had money to pay rent, and he was saving up for a plane ticket to visit his daughter in America.

You’d been good for each other, pushing the other to be the best versions of themselves, always support one another when times got tough. You were looking forward to a break from university, looking forward to a summer free of deadlines and exams. Sure, you still had to work two jobs to afford your rent and schooling expenses, but you were looking forward to a little more free time. Gi-Hun had promised you a day trip to Busan, a chance for the two of you to get away, even for a short time. Your friendship had blossomed since that evening in your apartment, and you found that you spent most days with him. You felt his absence when he wasn’t around, feeling like something was missing. Gi-Hun had begun to feel the same. You’d saved him from himself, had thrown him a lifeline when he felt like giving up. you’d been good for him, and his feelings for you had grown over the last few months. Both of you were tiptoeing around the chemistry between you, too afraid to spoil the friendship in case the other didn’t feel the same.

“I think I need to stop,” you sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. “My brain is mush and if I study anymore my head might actually explode.” “Just remember to relax tomorrow,” he smiled, “you know all the answers.” He’d learned that you had a habit of getting in your own head, of doubting yourself when things got tough. You were the smartest person he knew, and he wished you’d give yourself more credit.

He helped you close up the bar, driving you home before saying goodnight. Every evening, he found it harder to leave you, harder to watch you climb the steps to your apartment. He wanted to pull you back into his arms; to kiss you and tell you how much you meant to him. he wanted to make love to you on the sofa you’d spent so many nights studying on, wanted to hear you moan his name. he hated leaving you, hated returning to his empty apartment. He still struggled to sleep most nights, and his thoughts were filled with you on the nights he lay awake.

Gi-Hun couldn’t stop checking his phone the next day, constantly stopping to see if you’d had your results back. You were sitting your exam at 9am and had been up texting him since 5am. He wanted to take you out tonight, wanted to buy you dinner and have a proper celebration. He had no doubt you’d pass, but he still couldn’t help but feel nervous for you. you’d worked so hard to get where you were, and the desperation in your face was evident. He was on break when you called him, your voice shrill. “I passed!” You squealed breathlessly. “I actually passed!” “Amazing!” Gi-Hun couldn’t hide the joy he felt, his smile spreading wide. “Let me take you out tonight. We’ll celebrate properly.” He wanted tonight to be special for you, he wanted you to let your hair down and celebrate the fact you were one year closer to your dream.

That night, Gi-Hun arrived to collect you from your apartment. He’d gone and bought a shirt especially, the crisp white material paired with his favourite jeans. He was speechless when you stepped outside, clad in a burgundy off the shoulder dress. He always thought you looked beautiful, but tonight you’d left him speechless. “What do you think?” you asked, giving him a twirl on the sidewalk as he stood open mouthed. “Very nice,” he finally managed to breath. “Just… wow.” You bit back a smile, enjoying the effect you were having on him. You’d picked this dress especially, knowing it showed off your figure.

You spent the evening in a cozy restaurant, feeling lighter than you had done in months. Gi-Hun couldn’t take his eyes off you, every moment he spent with you only affirming how much he cared for you. You were breathtaking in that dress, and his found his mind wandering, imagining how it would feel to kiss you, how it would feel to peel the dress from your body. You noticed him staring, noticed the way his eyes wondered your frame; the dress was having the desired effect.

You walked home slowly, neither of you wanting to part. Your hands brushed against each other a few times, sparks igniting deep within the pit of your stomach at the slightest of touches. “Do you want to come up?” you asked him when you arrived back your apartment. The chemistry between you was electric, the air almost crackling. You wondered if he could feel it too, wondered if his heart was racing as much as yours was. “Yes,” he answered, swallowing hard as you led him up the stairs. He’d been to your apartment dozens of times but tonight felt different. The tension was palpable, his heart beating so hard in his chest he was scared you might hear it.

Unlocking your door, you headed inside, the two of you standing in your hallway, neither one of you sure what to do next. Gi-Hun could see the steady rise and fall of your chest, could see the hunger in your eyes as looked up at him. “Kiss me,” you whispered, unable to resist him anymore. You needed a release, needed to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your body.

Gi-Hun kissed you gently, his hands caressing the contours of your waist, snaking up your back to the nape of your neck. He heard you moan appreciatively against him, felt your hands trail up his arms and across his shoulders. He allowed himself to be led to your bedroom, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt as you went. He could feel his aching cock pressing against the tight fabric of his jeans, could feel the deep ache in the pit of his stomach as you guided his hands towards the zip of your dress. He was shaking as he helped you remove your clothes, the sight of your body setting his senses on fire. He pulled you into him, his hands exploring the delicate curve of your breasts, his fingers gently pinching your nipples as you moaned softly against his touch.

“I need to taste you,” he growled, pushing you down into your mattress as he slid your underwear down over your thighs. You were already soaking wet for him as his fingers explored you, his thumb tracing light circles over your clit. you bucked your hips, your eyes rolling back as his tongue replaced his fingers, tracing slow, delicious patterns against you. you had so much pent-up stress, and Gi-Hun was dying to release it. His tongue and fingers worked together, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. You tasted like heaven, your tight wet walls gripping his digits as you came for him with a shuddering sob.

You were so desperate for him, so needy as you pulled his lips down to meet yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, could feel his urgency for you in his kisses. You helped him remove his jeans, pushing him down against the mattress. You’d spent so many sleepless nights wondering what he would feel like to be with Gi-Hun, but nothing could match up to reality.

You cried out in unison as you lowered yourself onto him, his hands tightly gripping your hips as you moved against him. you were so wet for him, so tight and Gi-Hun found himself dangerously close to losing control already. You were so beautiful as you fucked him, your moans so loud and unabashed as your bodies moved in perfect sync. He directed your hand down to your clit, watching you pleasure yourself as you rode him. you were so confident, so sure of yourself and Gi-Hun was desperate to see more of this side of you. You could feel him getting close, could feel his thighs shaking as he neared the edge. His eyes were glued to you, to the way your index finger circled your clit, the way your head lolled back as you took every inch of him inside your tight core. He couldn’t hold anymore, a shuddering groan reverberating off the walls as he came, spilling every last drop of himself inside of you.

He stayed with you that night, tangled up in your sheets as you explored each other. There would be time to talk tomorrow, time to figure out what this was between you. In the morning, Gi-Hun would use words to tell you how you made him feel, but tonight, tonight he would let his body do all the talking.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #seong gi hun x reader #seong gi hun #seong gi hun smut #lee jung jae

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marvelwitchergilmore · 16 hours ago

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Wildflower

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> Finding yourself a little lost, through some conversations, laughter and a bunch of wildflowers, you find something more than just friendship in Tyler Owens.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, little angst (kinda) reader doesn't have the best relationship with her family -- they're a lot. Found family vibes with Reader and the Wranglers. Tyler is mentioned to be an EMT and a weatherman. Not Proof Read.

The media always painted him as a heartthrob. New Tornado-Chasing, Thrill Seeking Heartthrob Tyler Owens spotted in the same town as…And he took it as a compliment. He’d been getting similar headlines and comments since he started on the rodeo circuit.

What he didn’t like was when he was painted as a heartbreaker, pitted against people who he’d only really held a conversation with. No dates, no kisses, not even a hug come to think of it. Maybe a handshake at most.

And it wasn’t like he dated much. Well, not at all really.

Between chasing Tornadoes throughout the year, but mostly in the summer and spending the rest of his time working around research, data production, his channel, the few guest lectures he did at his old University campus and even the odd appearance as a local weatherman when he visited his folks, he didn’t have time to date.

He also didn’t have the heart to do so.

Something had always stopped him from taking a date further than a month. And it wasn’t commitment issues, he wasn’t afraid of relationships. In fact, he’d love to have one. To have a place to call home permanently, to have someone to come home to and talk about his day with, and hear about her’s…

In recent years, that life seemed to become more like a distant friend than a family member.

Until you showed up.

He’d been working all week in the shed, only really surfacing to eat or use the bathroom. Dexter had told him he should get some more sun before he withered away like some cowboy-vampire. Well, those were actually Lily’s words, but Dexter had told him to get some sun.

And he promised he would, once all their recent data was logged into his laptop. It would save him the two weeks he’d be spending at the rodeo helping with the set-up and the running of it.

Coming up the road, your tires crunching as they rolled over the gravel path, the breeze whipped in and out of your truck windows, surrounding you with the kind of freedom you hadn’t felt in years.

From the house at the very top of the lane, you saw two people sitting on the porch, three others stood in the garden and from the barn emerged one man who joined Cathy in watching your truck pull up the lane.

“Oh, my god! Y/n!”

As you switched your engine off and hopped out of your truck, you were almost sent flying onto your back by Kate as she came barreling towards you.

“Hey- uff.” You smiled as Kate wrapped her arms around you tightly. “Missed you, too.”

“What are you doing here?” Kate pulled away long enough for you to answer.

“Needed some space from home, so when Cathy called and said she needed help, I almost jumped down her throat at the chance.”

Kate laughed, looked around and hugged you again. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

The next twenty minutes were filled with introductions, questions, answers, updates on life and even more questions.

“How long are you gonna stay?”

You shrugged before looking over at Cathy. “For as long as your mom needs my help.”

Cathy shook her head as she poured a pitcher of sweet tea. “You can stay as long as you’d like.”

You chuckled and thanked her for the drink. “Thanks, but it looks like you’ve got your hands full here already.”

Kate smiled. “The more the merrier.”

You and Kate had grown up almost like sisters. With your mom and Kate’s mom being in the same classes at school, and their ever-growing friendship, you and Kate had spent most afternoons and sleepovers gossiping and talking about everything you possibly ever could.

And when she lost those she loved almost eight years ago in an EF-5, you had been the one to stay with her. You also stayed with her in New York for six months as she got settled into her new job and new apartment.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?”

You looked over your shoulder to Kate who was sitting up on your bed as you unpacked your bags. You shook your head and smiled. “For the millionth time, I’ve got everything I need, Kate.”

Kate looked around. “Extra towels?”

“Your mom already brought everything down.”

Kate sighed, a little defeated. “Fine. But you know you can always ask me-”

You nodded. “I know.”

Kate smiled and watched you for a few moments as you folded your t-shirts back up before laying them in one of the drawers. “You okay?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you only leave home like this when something’s happened.”

Your shoulders dropped a little. “It’s just family stuff, that’s all. A few too many arguments over Easter and a crowded house filled with divided opinions. I needed a break and your mom needed a couple extra hands. It’s a win-win.”

“Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

You smiled and took hold of Kate’s hand. “I know. And you know I’m here when you want to finally tell me why you have a local weatherman hiding in your barn.”

Kate laughed. “Tyler?”

You nodded and got back to packing whilst listening to Kate tell you everything she could about how she came to meet Tyler Owens; cowboy vampire and weatherman.

Over the course of a week, you came to know everyone a little better. During the days, you helped Cathy out, Kate joining every once in a while along with Dani and Dexter. During the early evenings, Kate would drag you into the barn where you could both sort out the feed bags and listen to Dexter tell his stories to the others. Boone usually gave you a small fright anytime you walked up into the rafters considering you’d just seen him sat next to Lily at one of the desks.

Lily would show you some of the footage they’d gathered throughout the day when on a chase and you’d see the complete thrill in all of their faces.

Even Kate’s.

Both you and Cathy were happy to see it.

“You should join us one of these days.” Lily said, casually.

You shook your head just as Kate laughed. Tyler turned his head. “What?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…”

Tyler raised an eyebrow and tried his best to suppress his laughter. “You're scared?”

“Not scared, per say-”

“I’d say. You barely opened your eyes when you joined me.”

You looked at Kate. “That’s because you were the one driving.”

“I thought you liked my driving.”

“Yeah, on a normal road. Not chasing an EF-3 on the hottest day of the year after a flat tire.” You turned back to the others. “As much as I’d love to, I think I still prefer to watch it from the comfort of a screen.”

Tyler held up his hands. “Well, the offer’ll stand. Don’t have to join us, you can always join Dexter and Dani in the van.”

“I’ll see.”

Turning back to the pile of animal feed, you started filling the buckets. By the time you’d finished, you made your way into the main house where Cathy was dishing out plates with Tyler’s help in the kitchen as the others either got showered or started setting the table.

“Hey, need some help?”

“No, I think we’ve got it covered,” Cathy told you. “But you can go and get Kate. I think she’s still in the barn.”

“I did try and drag her chair from her desk but I think she might be a witch. She started to hover, I’m pretty sure.” Boone called out from the living room.

You nodded. “Noted. Back in a tick.”

Disappearing back outside, you rounded the house and headed towards the barn. “KATE! Are you alive?!”

“Back here!”

Pushing the barn door open, you walked inside and eventually found her tucked into the desk, ink stains across her fingers from handwriting her notes.

“Your mom’s made food.”

“Yea, I’ll be there in a sec.”

You waited for a minute before sighing and walking behind her. You’d seen this many times before, and in over twenty years of friendship, you’d only found one method to work. Well, two; but the hose was attached to the house and didn’t reach into the barn.

Grabbing the back of her chair, you waited for her to lift her pen off the page before you jerked it away.

“Wha- Hey!”

“Come on. It’s dinner time.”

“But-”

You shook your head as you started to wheel her chair across the barn floor. She tried her best at spinning around, but you just kept making your way towards the barn door.

“I promise you can finish later. Until then, we’re eating. Come on.”

Kate pouted and agreed. “Fine. But you’re wheeling me back.”

“Deal.”

Finally reaching the house, you and Kate made your way inside before joining everyone else at the table. Drawing straws, you and Tyler pulled the shortest.

“Sorry, Kate.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. I promised Lily she can push Boone back to the barn anyway.”

You smiled before picking up her plate and carrying it into the kitchen with the others.

“You wash, I’ll dry?”

You agreed. “Okay.”

And so you both began. With Cathy’s stereo on the window cill, a country music station playing like always, the music washed its way around the house and you and Tyler cleaned up.

As you did so, you and Tyler found yourselves both dancing along to the music that floated around the room until everything was washed and all that was left was you and Tyler sharing laughter as you both tried your best to remember an old line dance.

Then you were two-stepping around the kitchen, him spinning you out and around and back in until Boone and Kate walked back inside and in the spirit of things, joined in. Boone bowing to Kate as low as he could, he held out his hand.

“Why, ma’ lady?”

“Why thank you, sir.”

Before you knew it, Dani and Lily had joined, and Cathy had pulled Dexter in for a small dance.

The night drew in slowly, the moon’s beam gently settling across the land around the farm as the stars joined in. Everyone was sitting outside, either dancing by the fire or doing some kind of activity whether that was drawing or knitting.

You were sitting in the corner of the porch, balancing on one of the beams when the phone rang out.

A few minutes later, Cathy came outside. “Honey, it’s your folks. They want to talk to you.”

You took a breath. “Okay.”

Hopping off the edge, you walked inside, unaware of the eyes trailing your movements.

“Everything okay?” Tyler asked as Cathy joined him once more on the porch. But she just sighed.

“I’ve known her mom since I was a kid. Y/n’s a strong kid, but sometimes she just needs a break. They can be…a lot.”

Tyler just nodded before his eyes looked through the kitchen window and he saw you, sat at the entrance between the kitchen and living room, the phone to your ear and your entire body language screaming for help.

It was forty minutes before you were finally able to hang up the phone and when you finally emerged from the house, you walked out to find Boone mid handstand.

“Hey, I’ll be back soon.” You told Cathy.

“Everything okay?”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Everything’s fine. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Okay. Call us if you need anything.”

You nodded before making your way towards your truck, Kate rushing over. “Where are you going?”

“Just going to the store. Do you need me to pick anything up?” Kate shook her head.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I promise. Just going to the store.”

“Okay. Well, uhh, a couple pads?”

“Period or stationary?”

Kate shrugged. “Both.”

You smiled, hopping into your truck. “Okay. Text me if you need anything else.”

You were at least an hour away from any open store, so winding down your windows, you turned on the radio and let the solitude wash over you.

Your family could be a lot. Even more so when they didn’t agree on anything. Despite finding a job in New York, you’d returned home because your grandparents were sick. Eventually, they passed and that left the small plot of land and the farm house to your parents. They’d been trying to make it into an Inn and so far were succeeding.

Save for the new renovations being done to the left side of the house where they couldn’t decide which colours to pick, which led to an argument over the colours they’d picked for the other rooms, and then their choice of contractor to fix the old barn into an outhouse. Then it was one of your parents bitching to you about the other for so long, about the same thing. You could only take so much arguing, shouting, and aggressive debates. Then Easter had come and that brought in ten other family members, all of whom had elected to take sides.

Which left you alone in the very middle of a dozen other adults who were acting like children.

The call from Cathy couldn’t have come less than a blessing to you.

You took your time going around the store, picking up a couple of different things including both kinds of pads before getting back into your truck and driving around for a while.

Just as the clock on your dash passed one in the morning, you turned down your radio, letting the sound of crunching gravel filter through your windows. From the looks of it, everyone was asleep.

Except for one.

Turning your headlights off, you pulled the key out of the ignition and locked it up. With the brown paper bag in your arms, you slowly made your way up the steps of the porch where you found Tyler, still awake.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

You looked around you and then back at him. “Better than before.”

“Want to talk about it?”

You clicked your tongue. “I don’t think it’ll help.”

“You never know.”

You shrugged. “You don’t wanna know.”

Tyler sat up, leaning his forearms on his knees. “Try me.”

You looked down at the bag in your arms and sighed. “Let me put these inside.”

If he wanted to leave, if he didn’t want to hear about it, then you walking inside was his chance. It was his chance to think up an excuse about getting to bed before an early start, or that maybe it would be better to talk when people weren’t trying to sleep, or whatever other excuse he could come up with.

Except, when you came back outside, you found him laying out a couple of blankets and turning the heater up a little.

“Thought you might be cold.”

You couldn’t help but be in shock. “Thanks.”

“So…where do you want to start?”

You sat down. “Aren’t you the shrink? Shouldn’t you be telling me?”

Tyler cracked a smile. “Kate warned me you might be like this.”

“Did she now?”

Tyler nodded as he hummed. “She did.”

“Did you tell her you’d be moonlighting as my therapist tonight?”

He shook his head. “I just said I was gonna stay up. Didn’t say anymore than that.”

You hummed. “Usually don’t have to with Kate.”

“How long have you known Kate?”

“Is this the start of the session?”

Tyler just gave you a look, hiding the smile he wanted to crack again. So you answered the question.

“Since we were little. Cathy and my mom were friends. We spent most days together.”

After an hour of talking, Tyler had found out your parents had moved away from Supulpa when you were about to start college in order to be closer to your grandparents. He found out a little about your side of Kate’s story when she left for New York, about how you came back and everything that had happened since.

“I do love them, it’s just that they can be a lot sometimes.” You answered honestly. “Loud, rowdy, argumentative. Someone always has to be more right than someone else. You’re also not allowed to have your own opinion, but you’re also not allowed to not have an opinion. Colour of a room, foundation of a building, choice of school, subjects, jobs, vacations. All of it. Someone always has to put in their two cents.”

“Kate mentioned something about Easter. What happened?”

You sighed. “I told them I had a new job, after one of my aunts mentioned that her neighbour hadn’t seen me in their offices for a while.”

“How long have you been at your new job?”

“Two years.” You admitted.

“Two years?”

You nodded. “I know it was wrong, lying to them, but not telling them just…made everything a little more peaceful. And it’s not like it’s a different job. It’s the same work, just at a different company. I work from home two days of the week. I’ve acquired some time off; that’s why I’m here day to day. And it also means I’m moving away, back to my hometown.”

Tyler sat up. “You’re moving back here?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m still house hunting, and I haven’t told anyone yet. Not even Kate.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I always planned on coming back, I think.”

“You think?”

You shrugged again. “When we’re kids, it seems like this huge thing; to be able to get out of the small town. And, I did. I’ve worked in New York and,” you hummed. “I liked it for a while. I think I liked freedom more than anything. Able to take an interview without my entire family wanting to know every single detail known to man. But Oklahoma…it’s my home. Kate is the closest thing I have to family that doesn’t drive me insane. And…” You sighed. “I want my family to see this place. To know Cathy, and Kate, and my old stomping grounds. I don’t want them to have a city life – not that there’s something wrong with city life. It’s just rushed. I want them to not only see the peace, but actually know it, you know?”

Tyler nodded with a soft smile on his face. “I know.”

“The phone call before; it was my folks. They wanted to know when I’d be coming home. It took me thirty minutes before I could get a word in. And when I said I wouldn’t be, it was just more yelling.”

“Yelling?”

“You know, ‘I’m selfish for moving back’, ‘I’m selfish for wanting a life away from my grandparent’s old home’, I’m selfish for wanting a life away from my family.”

Tyler shook his head. “You’re not selfish, Y/n. You’re allowed a choice in life. And that choice should be down to you, and you alone. Not to anyone else. I know they’re your family, but screw ‘em. You’ve done a lot for them, and they’re all fully grown adults. Have them figure it out on their own for once. And, if you want, once you’ve told Kate, we can go house hunting with you.”

A small smile broke across your lips. “Thanks, Tyler.”

He nodded and smiled. “You’re not selfish for wanting a life of your own, Y/n. We only get so much time on this earth, and it should be down to you how and where you want to spend it.”

You smiled again, feeling Tyler take your hand in his. You had no words, so you just squeezed his hand in a thank you.

“Come on, it’s getting late. We should go to bed before Cathy comes and beats us with a dish towel again.”

As you stood, you looked at him. “Again?”

As he quietly walked you to your room, he explained how Cathy had chased all of them at least once with a dish towel because they either stayed up too late or because they’d walked into the kitchen too early on their birthday.

“Tyler?”

He turned back down the hall. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for waiting up. And thank you for talking with me.”

With rosy cheeks, Tyler smiled and tipped his head. “Anytime, Sweetheart.”

You felt your own cheeks warm at his reply before you opened up your door and walked inside, the hallway light turning off as you clicked your door shut. Eventually, you heard Tyler’s door click shut, too.

In a home like Cathy’s, you could hear every door open and shut, no matter how well oiled the handles were.

In the morning, you woke early and found Cathy awake and sat at her dining table with a smirk behind her mug.

“I heard you had a late night last night.”

“Jesus.” You held onto your chest.

She just smirked. “No use praying to him, I want to know what happened.”

You poured yourself a coffee. “Nothing happened. We just talked.”

“And talked, and talked.”

You turned around. “You heard us?”

Cathy shook her head. “No, but I did hear your doors shut about the same time last night and Kate told me he was waiting up for you. So, anything you want to tell me?”

You let out a short sigh. No time like the present.

“If you must know, I was telling him about my job.”

“And?”

“And how I’m moving back to Sapulpa.”

Cathy sat up. “Really?”

You nodded. “I haven’t told Kate yet.”

But it wasn’t long before you finally did. And two weeks later, Kate came running down the field with her phone where she met both you and Tyler.

You’d been putting a new fence up around the ground, but you could only pull so many wires on your own without nearly knocking yourself out. So, Cathy had sent Tyler down.

You’d been working for two hours or more when Kate came running down the field.

“I think I’ve found one!”

“Found one what?”

Kate was smiling. “A house. It’s in budget, an hour out of your office building but town is only twenty minutes out. Nice view, open space. What do you think?”

You looked Kate over. She was still hiding something from you.

“You’ve already called them haven’t you?”

She shifted on her feet. “Maybe.”

“Kate.”

She admitted defeat, though she seemed pretty happy about it. “Okay, I’ve got you a viewing tomorrow. But, please. Please go. We can go with you.”

You took a look at Kate before looking at the pictures on her phone. It did look cute. Wrap around and covered porch, big windows, shutters, bigger kitchen, spacious. It needed a lick of paint; or maybe two.

You looked over your shoulder at Tyler who was looking at Kate’s phone, too.

“What’d you think?”

“Can’t hurt to look.”

As the clock struck eleven the next morning, yourself, Tyler and Kate all arrived outside the house. The realtor met you outside and started giving you the facts; why it was being sold, who by, the history of the place. Tyler asked questions you’d probably think of at 3 am when you couldn’t sleep. Kate rushed around, looking in different rooms, taking pictures.

There were four bedrooms, one office, two bathrooms – one up, one down. The master bedroom had an ensuite.

“Now, it does need a little work. A couple of the shutters are loose around the back and one of the bathroom taps can be a little dodgy.” The realtor told you. “But all in all, it’s practically a steal.”

That much was true.

And it wasn’t too far from Kate and Cathy. Maybe a thirty minute drive. Town was twenty minutes away, and most of that was on dirt roads. And from Kate’s constant announcements, signal was pretty decent in most rooms apart from the very back bedroom which you could use as a storage room anyway.

The grass around the place was in desperate need of a cut, and the wildflowers that were tipping up around the place were begging for death in the hot sun.

A tree had been planted a little ways from the house which would provide shade from the sun in the early afternoon.

It also needed to be furnished, and have a couple of things replaced. But after a good clean up…you could see yourself living here.

Standing on the back porch, you felt a familiar pair of boots stand beside you.

“You look really happy here.”

You looked up to Tyler with a relaxed smile. “I am. It’s…freedom. Two acres of land, a home.”

“All you’re missing are some chickens.”

You laughed, and so did Tyler before Kate came running outside. “Well, what do you think?”

You smiled. “I love it.”

“So you’re gonna go for it?”

Looking between the pair, and back up to the house, you nodded. “I think I am.”

Finally, after a month of going between helping Cathy, driving into the city and to deal with housing paperwork and taking walks around the new land that you owned, you moved into your new home.

And everyone helped.

Yourself and Kate got a head start on things, having slept over on the floor the night before in order to map out where everything would be going. And through tears of laughter, you both managed to get a sofa and bed frame brought through the doors before Tyler’s truck pulled up with the others.

“Figured you could use some help.”

The next ten hours were spent laughing, fixing, setting up, painting and just all round having fun. An hour in and Dani had confiscated both Boone and Lily from using the drill to fix the shutters outside, Dexter had helped patch up some of the walls as well as paint over them.

Kate kicked you out of the office space before dragging Dexter in with her.

“You can’t come in. Tyler!”

He poked his head out from the master bedroom. “Yeah?”

“Make sure Y/n doesn’t come into this room until I say so.”

“Why?” You asked, whilst Tyler just agreed with a smile. He already knew what was going on.

“I need your help here anyway.” Tyler told you as you walked away from outside your office.

Tyler had been fixing your bed frame with Lily until he banned her from helping with that, too. Lily wasn’t the most patient when it came to making sure the bed frame was structurally sound.

So you and Tyler got to work.

“Okay, three, two, one. Go!”

Both yourself and Tyler stepped away from your bed at the same time. It had already fallen down twice.

“Is it?”

Tyler hesitantly shook it and it moved as one, but didn’t collapse.

“No. We’re in the clear.”

You could have almost dropped to the floor. “Oh, thank god.”

“I probably should have asked this earlier but are you planning on painting this room?”

You looked around. “Not yet. I haven’t decided on a colour. But it doesn’t look too bad as it is for now.”

“So…mattress?”

“Mattress.”

From the back of your truck, yourself and Tyler managed to get it inside with minimal damage and once it was finally on the bed, you both flopped down.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Do you think we can just fall asleep? Let the others do the rest?”

You turned your head and looked at him. “Considering Kate has kicked me out of my own office…maybe.”

“Guys!”

Both yourself and Tyler let out a small groan.

“Nevermind.”

“Guys!” Boone came running down the hall. “Oh. Uh.”

You and Tyler sat up. “Everything okay?”

He smiled, if a little sheepishly. “Everything’s peachy, man. But, uh, Kate asked me to make sure Y/n stayed away from her office.”

Tyler smiled. “Already on it, Boone.”

“Great.” He gave a thumbs up. “Well, Cathy has asked for your help. Actually, both of your help, so…” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder before leaving the room.

You and Tyler followed.

By the time the sun was setting, you were mostly moved in. Dani fixed the dodgy tap, and some of the electrics with Lily’s help. Boone had replaced some of the wooden slats and repainted them to match before fixing the shutters back onto the windows upstairs.

Everyone was thanked in drinks and pizza and you were finally allowed inside your office.

“Eyes closed.”

“Kate, you’re covering them.”

“Just keep ‘em closed anyway.”

She counted down before removing her hands and letting you open your eyes. What you were met with was a wall mural of Cathy’s farm land, barn, farmhouse and people included. You could have cried. You were crying.

“Oh, my god.”

“It needs a few touch ups but it mostly finished, but if you hate it-”

You shook your head that quickly you might have given yourself whiplash. “No, no, no. No, Dex, I love it. I really, really, love it. Thank you.”

“It was Kate’s idea.”

“Thank you both. I love it.”

As the night drew in, the others slowly headed back home leaving you on your own. Kate and Tyler had asked if you wanted them to stay, but you said no. You had to get used to living alone, and you had cameras.

So, waiting for you to lock the place up – both Kate and Tyler checking it after – they headed back home. However, one was quick to return in the morning.

Tyler knocked on the door but there was no answer. He knew you’d be awake since it was nearly ten in the morning. From working with Cathy, you were up each morning around five; six at the latest.

So he called out and felt a wave of relief wash over him when you answered.

“Round the back!”

Walking around, Tyler found you almost drowning in grass and wildflowers. Your legs were dusted with soil, your fingernails and hands were practically drowning in it.

“Want some help?”

“I’ve got an extra set of shears in my bag.” Tyler found it on the porch step before he joined you in the soil.

“I didn’t want to kill them all off, so I’m trying to keep the wildflowers that will survive a few days.”

“How was your first night?”

You smiled. “Fun. A little quieter than usual, but fun. I’ve, uh, managed to fix the old coffee machine and plug in my house phone.”

“Does anyone even use them anymore?”

You shook your head. “Probably not, but I like the idea of still owning one. Also means I can keep up the tradition of being offended if someone calls me after nine o’clock.”

Tyler laughed. “Well there’s always that. Thought about chickens yet?”

You laughed. “Not yet. I need to clear out some of this field first.”

Tyler looked around and shrugged. “I’ve got a free day, plus Dexter’s been telling me I need to get some more sun.”

“Hope you’re wearing protection.”

Tyler chuckled a little. “Dani threw a bottle of SPF at me this morning, so I think I’m covered.”

The conversation continued to flow until eventually it was cut off by a sharp cut across your finger.

“Oh, hey, okay. Come with me.”

Tyler helped you to your feet before helping you through your back door and towards your kitchen sink where turned on the cold tap.

“You got a first aid kit?”

“Uhh, yea. Yeah, in my bathroom. Under the sink.”

Tyler rushed off in search of the bathroom before rushing back a few minutes later with it in hand.

“Does it hurt?”

You shrugged. “A little. Stings mostly.”

In what felt like a minute, Tyler had examined your wound, mumbled words to himself and then started to bandage up your finger.

“How do you know what to do? Do you moonlight as an EMT or something?”

“Yes.”

Tyler reached over the counter and pulled some tape away from the spool with one hand. You could only watch on in shock. His intense focus, his ability to do it so quickly.

“Wait, what? Really?”

He looked at you and found himself smiling a little at your shock. “Yeah. I got my certification back in college. I worked on a couple of the rodeo circuits during the summer after I left bull riding.”

“Bull riding?! You were a bull rider? Wait-” You stopped yourself for a moment. “No, nevermind. I already knew that. Also, it doesn't surprise me…anymore.”

Tyler chuckled. “Why?”

“Thrill seeking? Adrenaline racing sport?”

“Well,” Tyler was finishing up on your cut. “You don’t face your fears, you ride ‘em.”

You watched him for a moment and found yourself admiring him. But then you snapped yourself back into reality. You’d gotten used to that snap-back over the last couple of weeks whilst being around Tyler.

It had started, to your knowledge, when you both spent a night in the barn just talking. He’d been filing the last of the collected data into his laptop and you couldn’t sleep, so you stayed up and just talked.

Considering you’d come from your shower and your hair was still damp, it wasn’t long before you got cold and being the gentleman he is, Tyler shrugged off his overshirt and gave it to you.

You leaned back and smiled. “God, you really do have the whole cowboy thing going for you. Rides bulls, wears the boots because he earned them, same with the hat and he even has his own cowboy wisdom.”

Tyler chuckled at that, but tried his slight embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

But you shook your head,“Don’t be embarrassed. That just makes you humble and extra sweet.” Then you gave him a genuine smile. “It’s a good look for you. It makes you, you. And I wouldn’t want you any other way.” You realised how that came out, and as much as you meant it, you didn’t want to send him running for the hills. “And neither would the others. You’re a good man, Tyler. Not too many would be brave enough to actually look at the blood pouring from my finger, nevermind know how to help.”

Tyler chuckled a little at that. He’d seen enough men faint outside an ambulance to know that much was true.

However, in the few moments that followed the laughter, something seemed to capture both yourself and Tyler in a hold. With the soft sunlight making its way higher into the sky, seeping in through the kitchen window, Tyler felt something wash over him and it was both more exciting and terrifying than anything he did day-to-day for his work.

“Is everything okay?”

He didn’t know why, and quite frankly, his future self would quite possibly punch him for asking, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Would you like to go on a date…with me?”

“What?”

“I-I’d usually have something better than this. Flowers, maybe a note or something and it wouldn’t be thrown on you like this but I-I just felt like asking, but if this is too weird feel free to say no. I-I know it’s a little weird but I-”

You stepped forward and he stopped talking the minute you placed a hand on his chest. “Tyler, slow down before you have a panic attack.”

What you said next could result in the same panic attack, so you had to be careful. Then an idea came to your head.

“There’s flowers outside.”

It took him a moment or two, so you nudged your head towards your window. “You say you’d usually have flowers, there’s some perfectly good ones outside.”

“But they’re from your garden.” Tyler whispered, but you just shrugged.

“You’ve helped pick some.”

With a small, understanding nod, Tyler slowly backed away and turned out of the door. When he returned he knocked on the backdoor and when you opened it, you were greeted with a slightly less soil stained Tyler, holding a bunch of wildflowers in his hand.

“Hi,” he smiled.

You smiled. “Hello.”

60 notes · View notes

mattsobvimyfav · 1 day ago

Text

American wedding (Matthew Sturniiolo)

one shot -

The hotel room was extravagant, with sweeping windows that framed the glittering city skyline. It was the kind of place y/n's parents wouldn’t question when it showed up on their credit card bill—they’d assume it was another innocent dinner or a shopping spree. But y/n was sprawled across the king-sized bed in nothing but a black lace bra and underwear, her laughter echoing through the room.

Matt stood near the window, his old-fashioned camera in hand. He looked at her with that rare, unguarded grin that made him seem younger, softer—like a completely different version of the boy everyone thought they knew.

“Stop moving,” he teased, his tone lazy but full of affection. “You’re ruining the lighting.”

Y/n threw a pillow at him, laughing as she shifted her pose. She stretched out on the bed, her hair spilling over the edge, her arms outstretched like a queen on her throne. “You’re lucky I’m letting you take these pictures at all, Matthew,” she shot back, her eyes sparkling.

“And you’re lucky I’m an artist,” he countered, lifting the camera and snapping another photo.

The camera clicked, the flash illuminating her skin. He stepped closer, kneeling on the edge of the bed now, his knee brushing against hers as he adjusted the focus. She watched him, her heart beating faster under his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost too quietly, like the words had escaped before he could stop them.

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, and she reached out, cupping his face and pulling him toward her. His lips found hers, soft and urgent, tasting faintly of Coke and the faint bitterness of cigarettes. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

He pulled back suddenly, his light eyes searching hers. “We should do it,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a kind of reckless excitement.

She blinked at him, breathless. “Do what?”

“Get married,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “First thing tomorrow. Let’s go to the courthouse and make it official.”

For a moment, the words hung between them, and then y/n’s face broke into a wide, incredulous grin. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Matt said, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You and me. No one else. Just like it has been.”

Without thinking, y/n shot up from the bed, bouncing on the mattress like an overexcited kid. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted, throwing her arms in the air.

Matt laughed, reaching up and grabbing her arm to pull her back down. She collapsed onto the bed beside him, her laughter bubbling up again as he hovered over her, his lips brushing against her cheek, her nose, her forehead—every inch of her face.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with more emotion than he usually let himself show.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her hands gripping his shirt like she never wanted to let go.

And in that moment, with the city lights glowing around them and the world outside feeling miles away, it was just the two of them, completely untouchable.

"I had a hell of a summer," I say, my lips curving into that smile Matt’s always said he can’t get enough of. "So, baby, don’t take this hard, but... maybe we should get an annulment before this goes way too far."

The words hang in the air, and for a second, all I can hear is the faint hum of the Mustang’s engine. Matt’s hands are still on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather. He doesn’t look at me, not at first. He just stares straight ahead like if he ignores me long enough, maybe the words will evaporate.

Then, finally, he speaks.

"Are you kidding me?" His voice is low, tight, like he’s trying to hold it together and barely succeeding.

"Matt—"

He cuts me off with a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the illegal parking faster than he should. “No, don’t ‘Matt’ me right now. You seriously thought this was the best time to drop that on me?”

I bite my lip, guilt gnawing at the edges of my resolve. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—”

“But it did,” he snaps, shifting gears and peeling out of the back of the school. “It came out exactly like that.”

I sink into the passenger seat, watching the scenery blur past as he speeds through town. Matt doesn’t say anything else, but the tension in the car is suffocating. He’s gripping the wheel so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t snap it in half, and his jaw is clenched tight enough to crack a tooth.

When he finally slows down, I realize where he’s heading before we even get there. The hotel. Our hotel. The place where everything started.

He pulls into the side lot, parking in the shadow of the building like we always did to avoid being seen. He kills the engine, the silence roaring in my ears as he turns to me, his light eyes flashing with anger and hurt.

“You really wanna do this here?” he asks, his voice cold and sharp, cutting through me like a knife.

I cross my arms, trying to steady myself. “I didn’t pick this place—you did.”

“Yeah, because I’m not the one throwing away everything we’ve built like it’s nothing,” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You wanna tell me what the fuck changed? Because two months ago, you couldn’t wait to be my wife. You were literally jumping on the bed screaming yes, remember that?”

“Of course, I remember!” I snap, my voice breaking. “How could I forget? But that was summer, Matt. It was... it was perfect. And now we’re back, and it’s like reality is crashing down on us. My parents don’t even know. We’re eighteen! We’re kids playing house, and it’s not real.”

“It felt real to me,” he says, his voice quieter now, but somehow that makes it worse.

“It was real,” I say, my throat tight. “It’s not about that. It’s about... it’s about what happens next. What happens when my parents find out? When college starts? When we have to figure out how to actually be married? We didn’t think this through, Matt.”

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I thought it through. I thought about it every damn day. You think I don’t know it’s not gonna be easy? You think I care?”

I don’t have an answer for that, and the silence stretches between us, heavy and unbearable.

Matt finally looks at me, his eyes searching mine. “So, what? That’s it? We’re just done? You’re done?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me. “I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just know... this isn’t what I imagined. I’m scared, Matt.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” he says, leaning back in his seat, his voice hollow. “But I thought we were supposed to figure it out together. Isn’t that the whole point?”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. He’s right, of course he’s right. But that only makes this hurt worse.

Matt leans back in his seat, his head resting against the edge of the headrest, and then his gaze drops to his hand. His thumb brushes over the tattooed wedding band inked onto his skin—a decision he called impulsive but never regretted.

“Got a wedding band on I just might die with,” he mutters, his voice thick with pain, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Without you? I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

I stare at him, my chest tightening like there’s a weight pressing on it. I never meant for this to hurt him like this, but watching him now, I realize there’s no way it couldn’t.

“Matt...” I start, my voice trembling. “I love you. God, I love you so much. But this—what if we’re just setting ourselves up to crash and burn? What if we’re not ready?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just sits there, staring at his hand, his jaw tightening. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, edged with something raw.

“Jesus Christ, don’t break my heart,” he says, his voice cracking on the last word. “This wedding ring? It won’t ever wipe off. But if you stay... fuck, you’ll probably leave anyway, won’t you?”

His words hit me like a slap, and I feel my eyes sting with tears I’ve been trying to hold back. I reach for him, grabbing his hand and holding it between both of mine. “Matt, that’s not fair,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just—I don’t know if I can be enough for you. You’re all in, and I feel like I’m barely holding on. What if I let you down?”

“You won’t,” he says instantly, his eyes finally locking on mine. “You think I don’t see how scared you are? I’m scared too. But y/n, I’d rather do this scared with you than spend one more second without you.”

Tears spill over, and I choke out a laugh, shaking my head. 'You make it so damn hard to walk away, you know that?'

'Good,' he says, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 'Because I’m not letting you walk away without a fight.'

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling heavy in my chest. 'But your parents don’t even know,' I murmur, my voice trembling. 'Your brothers don’t know. No one at school even knows we’re... we’re a thing. What are we going to do, just drop this bomb on everyone?'

He hesitates, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickers down to my hands. His jaw tightens, and the smile slips from his face. 'You’re not wearing it,' he says, his voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

I follow his gaze, my stomach knotting when I see my bare ring finger. The space where my wedding ring should be, feels as exposed as if I were standing there without my skin.

'I... I didn’t think it was a good idea,' I stammer, my pulse quickening.

His eyes snap back up to mine, searching, questioning. 'Didn’t think it was a good idea or didn’t want people to know?'

The question hangs in the air, thick and suffocating. I feel the burn of fresh tears threatening to spill and look away, unable to face the hurt I know is there. 'It’s not that simple,' I whisper.

"'Then make it simple,' he says. 'Do you want people to know or not? Do you want this—want us—or are you already walking away without even telling me?'

His words slice through me, and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, drowning in the ache of his voice and the unspoken fear that he might be right.

'It’s not about what I want,' I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

'Then what is it about?' he presses, his gaze piercing.

I hesitate, my hands twisting together nervously. 'I just... it’s complicated. You know that.'

His jaw tightens, and he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. 'What’s complicated? The fact that I don’t fit into your perfect little world?'

I flinch, the unspoken truth of his words cutting deep. 'That’s not fair,' I murmur, avoiding his eyes.

'Isn’t it?' he challenges, 'Look at you, like you’re ashamed to even be seen with me. You think I don’t notice the way you look over your shoulder, like you’re scared someone’s going to find out?'

I swallow hard, guilt twisting in my stomach. 'That’s not... I just don’t want to make things harder for either of us,' I say, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes dark with something I can’t quite name. 'Do you hear yourself right now? You’re so worried about what everyone else thinks, but have you even stopped to think about what we want? What I want?'

I look down, unable to meet his gaze. My silence hangs between us like a confession.

He sighs, shaking his head. 'I get it,' he says softly, his voice laced with hurt. 'You’re the golden girl, the one who’s supposed to have it all together. And me... well, I’m just the guy everyone’s already written off.'

'That’s not true,' I say quickly, finally looking up at him. But the way his lips press into a thin line tells me he doesn’t believe me.

'Isn’t it?' he asks again, his tone quieter now, almost resigned. 'I just need to know, right here, right now—if I fight for this, for us, are you going to fight too? Or are you already looking for the nearest exit?'

His words hang in the air, heavy and raw, and I feel the tears sting my eyes again. I want to answer, to give him the reassurance he deserves, but the truth is, I don’t know if I have the strength to tear down the walls I’ve spent so long building.

a/n- for fun ig

#nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #american wedding #sturniolo triplets

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mimipolo · 2 days ago

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Can u write headcanons for the sakamoto days characters as the animes coming out on Saturday. For ur bestie friendie 😆😆

Sakamoto days x reader headcanons

Yes I will, happy birthday to you. You should be ecstatic rn.

Is the Sakamoto days fandom alive on here??? Hope so.

Shin

He's really obvious about the fact he like you, like reallyyy obvious

Puts extra effort into every little action he does so you think he's cool(he's really not),if you two met in the JCC he'd make sure his entire routine for group assassination missions is basically flawless.

Can't help being curious about what you thought and tunes into your thoughts and has to pretend his face isn't growing hotter by the second as he walks back in line, your inner thoughts of admiration replaying in his head.

Has at least one person(Mr Sakamoto) who he talks to endlessly about you, if he was still an assassin he'd have found it unbearable but now he sits blissfully with a ramen cup in hand as Shin talks away, when his mind wanders to young love and then eventually his wife, Shin snaps at him to pay attention.

Knows a lot about you (most without you knowing but sh), sometimes he just comes up to you and reminds you of something you're about to forget or a question too niche for him to ask and you're like "huh?" and he just blinks at you before going "huh-?"

Takes a deep breath and does that silly shake thing guys do when they're about to run when he's determined to talk to you, ends up folding anyway because he's geeked you asked to eat with him today.

Does the absolute most to keep you out of danger, at the JCC and at the shop, enemies seem to be popping up from anywhere now he and Sakamoto had dropped from the ranks and he didn't want you wrapped up in that.

Cannot flirt, he cannot and it's so embarassing, it's sweet when he tries though, the moment he sees you trying to hold your laugh he just gives up and holds his flushed face as you double over laughing. At least you said he was cute(internally.)

I can imagine you two in his or your room on a hot day, the windows wide open and the fan is blasting in your faces as you split twin popsicles, he thinks you look beautiful even as you sweat profusely and fan your face with your hand.

Nagumo

So annoying, to the point it's almost driving you mad, makes every excuse under the sun to come see you, be it day or night. People often ask how you deal with his unprecedented visits and you can only drag out a sigh and shrug.

Terrible gift giver but it's clear he tries, hands you a beaten up rubber duck and looks at you expectantly when you're not immediately ecstatic (cause what??). He'll explain like some expertise in the science of you that he saw you cooing and feeding ducks one day in the summer five years ago. You look down at the small colourful bird and decide it's actually quite cute, it can go in your random trinket box.

Naturally touchy guy, an arm around your shoulder is not a rare thing but one thing he does get nervous about is holding your hand. Yes he could hold you against his chest for ages as you read out something to him but the idea of holding your has his head in his hands as he squats on the floor.

Would love it if you liked his stupid jokes but would love it even more if you made it your goal to absolutely despite them. He finds the dynamic quite funny. Actively enjoys seeing the way your face crumples up when he cracks a joke at the absolute worst time, something dumb about grannies as the both of you are still panting and painted in blood in a care home of all places.

Not that jealous or possessive but will feel left out when he notices you're hanging out with someone a bit more than him. Will insert himself between you and this new person, mostly unaware he's acting on self preservation to keep himself in your sights.

Shishiba

He's so calm and collected all the time, the concept of him liking someone and that person possibly being you had never crossed your mind and it probably never will.

He likes to praise your work ethic a lot, "Looks good." , "You cleaned them up yourself?" You just nod back with a smile and he's convinced he made the boldest move in the books.

Would want to make absolute certain you like him before saying anything life threateningly risky. Pretty traditional with it, asks you out to eat after work and lets you choose the place. Insists he pays because he earns more than you but he just wanted to treat you. Has a list on his phone of the places you two enjoyed the most and pins them on Maps in case you want to go again.

The type to stare daggers into you while you're busy talking to someone else, when you're done talking he's still looking your way and waits for you to acknowledge him. Sometimes he announces himself, sometimes he'll just walk up beside you and hands your new assignment over which honestly startles you at times.

Wish he could've met you under different circumstances, wherever you're in his line of work or not. He'll never be truly satisfied with the way things are, constantly weighing the options.

For now he's enjoying watching you enjoy your favourite snacks and his heart warms when you offer him a generous bite.

Kashimo

Doesn't know what he's feeling towards you, the only thing he knew was his loyalty to Slur and you were gradually changing that one situation at a time.

It started when you'd apply ointments to where his body disconnected even though he was literally designed to be able to be broken and put back together with no effort. But you put in that effort, insisting he should let you and it'd be beneficial in the long wrong, he liked to believe you.

Often shows up to your cubicle at work just to say good morning then walk away, not even waiting for you to respond. You find it oddly charming and he just likes hearing your giggle as he leaves the office.

He believes you're also one of those people whose never done anything worth damning in their entire life. You're so kind and considerate of him he couldn't even fathom you doing anything wrong. Sometimes he hopes he's still capable of dying just so it could be alongside you, doesn't understand what that means fully though, it's just an ideal.

Likes it when you hold his arm, patting it slightly as you give some feedback on the latest mission. Doesn't understand the point in it but is far from complaining, he enjoys your attention and doting words.

Doesn't like to hold delicate things, like cats he really likes them but has a lingering fear he'd accidentally hurt the small thing. Instead he likes watching you hold these fragile things, pointing to them and you pick them up with a questioning look on your face, he makes a motion for you to scratch it's ears, he's pleased when you do.

(Y'all know like those slime stimboard monkey vids💀💀)

He considers you to also be delicate, so you'll never catch him making a move to touch you even though sometimes his bones ache to, he's fine with the brief touches you give him he couldn't ask for anything more.

Heisuke

He's also helplessly down bad for you, instead he tries his best to be helpful to you but you always seem to one up him in that area, especially when you let him crash at your place. Like a true angel.

Doesn't bother with pickup lines he's tried them out and they're not really his thing but sometimes he says something so heartmoving you pause all together. When he notices your reaction he's completely oblivious he's successfully shot his shot, "Pfft look at ya face."

Piisuke loves you because he does, it's like their brains are interlinked. The bird will catch small sight of you and immediately rush over to perch itself on your shoulder and snuggle its beak into your cheek, it hurts but how could you say no. Heisuke already knows that whenever his small partner did this you were likely around, so he's walking up to you bashfully and taking Piisuke back (he's secretly setting the two of you up.)

Showers you with compliments and praise likes it's nothing, words of affirmation is definitely one of his top love languages on hopefully getting you to like him back. But the moment you reciprocate, admiring his terrifyingly precise sniping skill he's so flushed and hot and fumbling his words he just has to slap a hand over his mouth. Needs a minute before he's chucking softly, his hands smoothly over the rough build of the artillery as he thanks you.

The forgetful sort but not when it comes to you, suddenly he remembers everything. Sometimes he comes to you to say something he needs to remember because it's so much easier when it's your face and voice he remembers reprimanding him.

Dreams of a soft domestic life with you, maybe, if you like, a kid or two to complete the picture and of course the family pet as Piisuke. Grins stupidly to himself at the idea of how he'd propose to you (you're not even together yet.)

#sakamoto days #saka days #sakamoto days x reader #shin x reader #nagumo x reader #kashimo x reader #heisuke mashimo #heisuke x reader #headcanon #yh

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lvsjuno · 23 hours ago

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NATIONAL ANTHEM ch.3

Pairing — BF!Rafe x younger!kook!Fem reader

Navigation — Part 02 | Part 03

main masterlist - Spanish version

The morning sun bathed the Cameron garden in a golden light. I was now sitting at the breakfast table with Sarah, Ward, and Rose. Rafe, as always, was sitting beside you, pouring himself coffee while glancing at his phone. The table was full: fresh juice, toast, fruits, and that atmosphere of apparent perfection that always surrounded the Camerons.

The morning had started peacefully, a complete contrast to the previous night; after what had happened, You had fallen asleep at your boyfriend’s house, which meant you had woken up in a wonderful way, seeing Rafe at your side this morning. There was nothing better than the morning version of the Cameron boy to start the day.

You both came down after showering together and getting ready. As soon as Rose saw you coming down, she sent the entire breakfast to the big backyard garden that Tannyhill had, with a beautiful panoramic view.

The breakfast was passing by with apparent tranquility. Rose offered you more fruit, and Sarah shared an anecdote about her last boating trip with Topper. Ward read the newspaper, but his ears seemed to be tuned to every word being said at the table.

“You slept well, didn’t you?” Rafe murmured, leaning closer so only you could hear him.

You turned your body to face him, returning his gaze and getting lost in his hypnotizing eyes. “Better than ever"

The conversation was interrupted when Sarah put her phone down on the table with an exaggerated sigh.

“Maybe we could go to the beach or somewhere later,” Sarah commented, glancing at you. “We should make the most of summer from day one.”

You loved the idea of spending the afternoon with Sarah. Even though saw her all year round, summer was perfect for doing nothing or be out creating summer memories, maybe shopping, walking along the coast for hours while gossiping about other Kooks, or just lying on the Camerons' boat to sunbathe. But before you could respond, you noticed Rafe letting out a small sigh and leaning back in his chair.

“I think it’s time you found another friend. Spend some time with Wheezie or something, but leave my girlfriend alone,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the disdain in his voice was clear.

Sarah turned her head toward him, crossing her arms in a defiant gesture.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“I just want to have a good summer with my girlfriend without her worrying about you, Sarah,” Rafe replied, taking a sip of his coffee, not taking his eyes off his sister.

Before Sarah could respond, Ward lowered the newspaper and looked at both of them with a stern expression.

“Enough, Rafe. I won’t tolerate your arguments, especially not during breakfast.”

Trying to lighten the mood, you leaned toward Sarah with a soft smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sarah, we could go somewhere later, but I’ll drive this time.”

“You’re going with Sarah?” Rafe interjected, his tone softer when addressing you, but with a slight hint of disapproval. “What if we do something together?”

“We can do something later. Summer is long, plus I already promised Sarah we’d go somewhere,” you replied calmly, placing your hand over Rafe’s to calm him down, he used to get upset quickly and it was better to avoid a bigger problem.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else, she froze, staring at the dock.

“I’ll be right back, I forgot something I wanted to show you on the boat,” she said.

Sarah got up from the table quickly and began walking toward the dock, her hair flowing in the breeze. followed her gaze, slightly confused by the sudden and strange action, while Rafe brushed it off, slouching in his chair with an exasperated sigh.

“See?” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “She always has to get attention.”

You decided to ignore him and didn’t respond, simply taking a sip of your juice, still thinking about Sarah’s behavior.

“I’m going to see what she’s up to,” murmured, standing up from the table.

“Why don’t you just leave her? It’s probably some nonsense or something weird with Sarah,” Rafe replied, trying to stop you to go.

“I’ll be back in a minute, you won’t even notice I’m gone,” said with a soft smile before heading toward the dock.

As you got closer, could make out Sarah stopping abruptly, her gaze fixed on the boat. It was then that you saw John B, leaning over the tanks, trying to move them quickly.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah exclaimed, walking toward him.

John B tensed, clearly surprised, but didn’t stop working.

“I’m just taking the tanks to fill them.”

“If you say so…” syou replied, appearing from the side of the boat, looking at him with disbelief and doubt. “Are you okay, John B?”

“Yes, your eye looks unpleasant”

he replied, lifting his head with a carefree smile. “Tell Topper he won the first round. Next time, the least I’ll do is leave him with an eye like this.”

John B continued transferring things to his small boat, while still listening to Sarah’s words.

“Can we stop with this Pogue vs. Kook thing? It’s so stupid,” she said, leaning against the end of the boat, facing the guy.

“It’s easy to say that when you’re a Kook,” he said, looking at her more closely before turning around and continuing on his way.

“Forget it, Sarah, he’s a stupid Pogue. Let’s go back to the table, your brother’s waiting for me”

Sarah didn’t say anything else, just turned around and started walking back to the house, while Aurora stayed behind, watching the path John B had taken.

The sea breeze gently caressed your face as you walked alongside Sarah along the boardwalk. You had decided to get away from the complex drama at the Cameron house, and although the sun continued to shine brightly, there was a freshness in the air that helped you both relax.

"I'm glad we went out today," you said, looking at Sarah with a smile.

"I told you you'd have fun," Sarah replied, laughing as she took off her sunglasses and ran them through her hair. Despite the tension of the morning, there was something in her demeanor that suggested a need to clear her mind.

"Well, we should enjoy the summer as much as possible," Sarah said, looking toward the horizon with a playful glint in her eyes. "How’s everything with Rafe?"

You let out a soft laugh and glanced at Sarah before answering.

"Well, you know... with Rafe, everything’s a bit... intense, but things are going well, luckily," you shrugged, as if everything was clear in your mind.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, curious. You playfully shrugged your shoulders.

"He's possessive, you know how Rafe is, but I’m not going to say I don’t enjoy it," you said, letting out a nervous laugh. "But deep down, everything’s fine. As usual, you know. How about with Topper?"

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with warm colors as the two of you continued walking along the shore.

"Rory, can I ask you something?" Sarah said, looking at you with some nervousness.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop yourself from smiling, knowing Sarah wanted to talk about something serious.

"Of course, anything you want, Sa," you replied casually, knowing your friend needed some advice.

"Well... how is someone supposed to know when they’re ready to... you know, take the next step with someone?" Sarah asked, looking ahead, her face slightly flushed.

You made a surprised face but instantly relaxed, leaning a little toward Sarah, smiling knowingly.

"So, Topper, huh?" you responded in a playful tone.

Sarah nodded, her gaze a little evasive.

"Yeah, it's just... lately he's been pushing a lot to... you know, go to 'third base,' and I feel weird, I don’t know if I’m ready. How did you know you were ready?" Sarah admitted, her tone more serious, though still hesitant.

"I don’t know, I’d been in love with Rafe for like two years, it was something I wanted to happen. I mean, have you seen your brother?" you said with a laugh, looking at Sarah with a playful smile and noticing her friend's disconcerted face.

You took a moment before responding, it was important to the younger girl, and you didn’t want to give bad advice that would lead to an uncomfortable situation. "But seriously, you need to talk to Topper about how you feel. You should feel comfortable with him, those moments are for two people who feel at ease with each other. There’s no rush for that moment. If you don’t feel ready, you don’t have to do anything just because he wants to."

Sarah let out a nervous laugh.

"I know, but sometimes I feel like everyone around me is doing it, and I’m the weirdo who isn’t..." she said with a sigh.

You looked at her, completely understanding how she felt.

"Look, if Topper can’t understand that things have their own pace, then he needs to grow up a bit and see reality. Relationships are for enjoying, not for feeling like a race," you explained with a reassuring smile. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, never, Sarah."

Sarah smiled, grateful for your words, although there was still some doubt in her eyes.

"Thank you, seriously. Sometimes I think I just need someone to remind me that not everything is that complicated," Sarah said, her tone much more relaxed.

You laughed and playfully nudged her.

"Well, I’m not sure I’m the right one for that, but I can help if you ever need some advice... but I warn you, you might hear or imagine things that you won’t like very much," you joked with a mischievous tone.

Sarah let out a nervous laugh.

"I don’t want to know anything about what my brother does to you, please!" she replied quickly, as both of you burst into shared laughter, walking side by side. "I’ve had enough listening to them sometimes."

#imagine rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey x reader #fanfic

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sinsolstice · 3 days ago

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GIRL DAD (4)

SINGLE DAD MIGUEL X TEACHER READER (AFAB) CHAPTER FOUR SYNOPSIS: You and Miguel are getting used to the arrangements of letting Gabriella stay over for a few hours and having dinner together after school. TRACKING POST: follow #𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 (miguel o'hara) for new content and updates.

tags ✮ modern au, single dad miguel + afab teacher reader, found family, slight angst, eventual romance + smut.

wc ✮ 1,449

author's note ✮ this chapter is a little shorter than my usual word count. i also want to mention that this chapter has mentions of family bereavement and domestic abuse as part of the subplot (and foreshadowing).

← part three // mlist

Since the evening you offered Miguel the opportunity to look after his daughter after school, it has been three weeks since then.

It’s quite a change to your after-school routine, but you adapt to it within the first week of trialling. It’s a good thing to say that Gabriella feels the same way. She enjoys spending time with you after school and makes it known by how excitedly she waits for you by your desk after half-past three in the afternoon. Gabriella helps with tidying up the classroom, telling you about the conversations she has with her friends during lunch and in between lessons. You’ve always had a good relationship with the young girl, but when you take upon the responsibility of looking after her, your relationship with Gabriella turns out better.

Gabriella is truly the epitome of a gracious child. When you invite her into your room, she goes to the kitchen to wash her hands. Then sets herself in your living room to sit close by the coffee table, laying out her homework and snacks. She does her work without supervision and occasionally asks you for help if she needs it. Gabriella falls into the routine easily too and when she is done with her homework, the two of you bond over arts and crafts or something on the telly playing in the background.

At exactly 6pm sharp, the doorbell rings and Miguel stands at the front pouch. He would come in, thank you again for looking after his daughter, embrace Gabriella, and the three of you would make it to the dining table and share a meal. You and Miguel would take turns bringing food for dinners—you would cook on Mondays and Tuesdays, and Miguel would bring something over on Thursdays and Fridays. This new routine brings out a feeling of home and togetherness, so it’s a pleasant change of routine to your usual time living on your own.

“What is England like, Miss?” Gabriella asks. You have informed your students when you began your teaching career about your childhood in another country. It was rather a little obvious with the slight out-of-place accent and the difference in spelling that your students pointed out. And it doesn’t seem like Miguel is surprised by the revelation as he takes a spoonful of food as Gabriella talks.

“Well…” You think for a moment as you try to recall your life. “If we are referring to the weather, it’s very unpredictable over there in England. Sometimes it’s a burst of beautiful sunshine outside and other times, the skies are grey. From time to time, you feel little droplets of hail raining down on you out of nowhere. And sometimes, the weather is chilly too.”

“Hail?” Gabriella repeats.

“Hailstones,” you smile. “Like tiny crystals of ice.”

“We haven’t been to England, haven’t we, Gabs?” Miguel says. “Maybe we should consider it one of the summers.”

“I want to go to where they plant so many flowers,” Gabriella suggested.

You flash Gabriella a smile when you realise the location she’s talking about. “That’s the Eden Project down south in Cornwall, at the edge of England.” You explain. “They have nice beaches there, too.”

“Corn-wall,” Gabriella repeats slowly, with a tone of awe. “I want to go there.”

“Maybe we should consider,” Miguel says to his daughter.

You look at him who sits across from you, relaxed after coming back from work. “I haven’t been to Mexico before,” you say. “Or any parts of South America. Where do you guys suggest I go visit?”

Miguel and Gabriella hum as the two of them think together. Their mouths press in a thin line, the bottom of their lip sticking out a small pout. As you study their expressions, you can’t help but find them endearing the same similarities in their mannerisms. Like father, like daughter.

“If you enjoy the beaches, Tulum is a good place to start,” Miguel says. “Although it’s further down the country. Or, there’s the seaside town of Tecolutla or Acapulco Beach. They’re both about a four-hour drive from Mexico City.”

“Acapulco!” Gabriella beamed in excitement. “I want to go there again this summer.”

Miguel chuckles and playfully ruffles her hair. A smile blooms on your face, and the three of you eat in peace. Gabriella’s question catches your attention and you look right in front of her. “Do you talk to your mama and papa every day since they are so far away?” Gabriella asks.

“Well,” you exhale softly. “I still talk to my siblings and my good friends from England.”

“What about your mama?”

Even though it has been a while, the dread of telling the story makes your stomach churn uncomfortably, no matter how you simplify or summarise the story. “My mama passed away when I was nineteen. She had been sick for a while and her body couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Miguel looks up, and his eyes meet yours. Gabriella turns to look at him with a puzzled look and the room falls into silence that’s all too familiar. “We’re sorry to hear that.”

“It was a while ago,” you reply with a hesitant smile. “But thank you.”

Gabriella looks at you and although the surprise on her face lingers, there’s also curiosity like every young child has. “What about your papa?”

“My papa,” you sigh. “I have two papas who are not nice people, so I have not spoken to them or seen them in a very long time.”

You didn’t dare to look at Miguel when you revealed your backstory because you knew the look on his face from the corner of your eyes. Sympathy, disbelief, unsure and silent. Because how could someone like you—lively and brave—grow up with a fate so horrendous and unthinkable?

“But,” Gabriella says, her lips downcast in a frown. She turns to look at her father, her tone quiet and glum. “Aren’t papas supposed to be good people?”

Miguel presses his lips into a thin line. “Fathers are supposed to be good people, mija. To protect their family.” He says solemnly. “But sadly, not all fathers are like that.”

Miguel flickers his eyes at you. He must have pieced together your history and the story of how to move to the States that you mentioned. “My condolences. I’m really sorry to hear that,” he says. “You deserve better things, and I hope you will experience them all.”

Gabriella turns to look at you with a similar expression to Miguel’s. “I’m sorry you don’t have a mama and papa anymore.”

“Thank you, and it’s okay.” You give them a kind smile. No one knows this about you since you’ve kept it to yourself ever since you migrated to the States on your own. Your life wasn’t the greatest in the beginning, but you made it through the dark and stormy years to make it this far. “My family and I have our differences that are sometimes different to overcome without having fights.” You explain. “But we still care for one another.”

The dining room falls quiet. Despite it closes the end of the conversation, it feels a sense of uncertainty on how to dwell on a different topic. Although what you had to endure was a while ago, the tragedy carries within you unfathomably.

Suddenly, Gabriella pushes back her seat and walks around the table, coming to you. Her small arms crisscross around you. “You’re my family too, miss.”

You wrap your arms around her and embrace Gabriella with an equal force of appreciation for her kindness. You hold her and squeeze her gently, resting your cheek on top of her head. “Thank you, Gabi. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re my favourite,” Gabi says, then turns her head to look at Miguel and grins. “After papa, of course.”

You look at Miguel, and he chuckles, smirking at the two of you. “Glad to know that I’m still your number one favourite, mija.”

“Then after that is Aunty Jess,” Gabi adds. She holds out three of her fingers and counts them down at every list of names she announces. “Daddy, Miss Teacher and then Aunty Jess. In that order.”

Laughter from you and Miguel fills the dining room. Your chest warms at the thought of comfort you find yourself in—thinking of Jess, Gabriella and Miguel. The people you didn’t think you would ever meet and change your life for the better. You flicker your eyes and meet Miguel’s gaze. A smile appears on his face, reminding you of warmth and comfort that you truly didn’t have.

A flutter in your stomach made you snuggle Gabriella even more with another new physical symptom you feel in the moment; heart racing.

aesthetic dividers are credited to cafekitsune.

author's note: sorry for the kinda sad chapter but the hurdle is over now and more chapters will be lighter and fluff :)

#𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 (miguel o'hara)#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #the miguel effect #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara imagine

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scoutofmymind · 6 hours ago

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can u please write something about how like reader felt while luigi was missing for 6 months. like would he reach out, would she go with him etc. also i love ur stories 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Run — { Luigi x Reader }

Content: sfw, angst, friends to lovers, slight situationship vibe, reader is and artist, kissing, heartbreak, explores ideas of guilty Luigi.

W.c: 2,345

Notes; Luigi vanishes - no warning, no footprints, just the sudden hollow where your life used to fit against his, opening to six months of silence before his letter appears under your door, bearing coordinates to a payphone five blocks away.

You didn't know where you'd be six months later when Luigi drove you down to the lake in his old Bronco, your spot shotgun worn from all those midnight trips for ice cream, the two of you off-roading through patches of corn fields out in the boonies — afterward he'd drop you off at home in the city, then drive himself back to the suburbs, unless he fell asleep in your room despite insisting he couldn't stay because of morning classes.

He always found it hard to leave you.

June warmed the brown leather beneath you, the window cracked to let in the summer air sweetened with hay as Luigi sped down the winding back roads of the countryside, rambling about his sister's new donkey they'd keep at the farm — the Mangione's second, more humble mansion with its livestock and respectable Christmas tree operation.

"You know you're my best friend, don't you?" He'd turned to look at you, the old truck thrown into park at the Dairy Queen after you'd convinced him the donkey could wait.

"Yeah." You nodded, cheeks full of ice cream, brows furrowed. You didn't notice then how his face had flushed red, embarrassed at blurting something so obvious it had never needed questioning. "Who else would you have time for?"

School, tech clubs, part-time job, and you.

Those were the pillars Luigi had built his life around, and for years, it had worked.

You and Luigi could fill a room with laughter —obnoxious howls and high-pitched giggle fits that echoed off walls — or sink into comfortable silence, Luigi drifting toward sleep while you lost yourself in whatever new book he'd brought for you to borrow from the university library.

Your own schedule mirrored his in its fullness, though school took a backseat to your collection of side hustles, your primary source of income selling art pieces at local markets where you'd drag Luigi along to showcase your most treasured works.

"That's a good point." He shot you a grin, spoon dangling upside down from his mouth as he finally broke his gaze from yours to stare out at the tall grass swaying beyond the windshield. "I just hope you know that."

You shift to pull your knees up in the passenger seat, turning to face him with your back against the door. "Feeling sappy again, are you?" Your foot stretches to nudge his knee, the leather creaking beneath you. "S'alright. I like when you get all soft."

Just the week before, Luigi's heart had been sitting too close to the surface, everything managing to touch a nerve — the way his mother spoke about his future over Sunday dinner, how his professor had dismissed his latest project idea, and even the changing spring weather that threatened the saplings he planted last fall.

Eventually, he recalibrated, but that raw tenderness still surfaced in waves.

"Yeah, maybe." Luigi shrugged, leaning over to dig his spoon into your ice cream, stealing a taste. "I just think it's worth saying. A reminder never hurts."

You'd never wanted to invalidate Luigi's feelings — and while you loved to tease him, you'd never dismiss what he shared. He was a natural at expressing himself when he chose to, and you knew if he voiced something, it meant those feelings ran deep.

"You're right, Lu." You say softly, letting your knees drop as you lean toward him, patting his thigh. "Thank you for telling me." He turns to you, his lips curling into that familiar grin. "You're my best friend too. Obviously."

"I know it's obvious," he groans, stealing yet another spoonful of your ice cream, your reflexes failing you when you jerk the cup away. "Let me just fuckin' say it." The late afternoon sun catches in his dark curls, the sun setting over the field.

You wave your hands in surrender, "Alright, alright." A laugh spills from your lips as you lean forward, spoon stretching toward his cup, missing entirely when he pulls it just out of reach. The melting ice cream drips onto the weathered console between you. "C'mon, lemme try."

He shoves a heaping spoonful into his mouth, eyebrows lifting in that familiar challenge, dimples deepening as a muffled "Come get it" drifts across the console, and the invitation draws you across the seat into his lap, the old leather protesting beneath your shifting weight while his free hand automatically found its place at your waist to steady you.

It wasn't the first time you'd tasted ice cream from his mouth, sweet and cold and mingled with laughter — but it would be the last.

And by some cruel twist of fate, that sun-drenched afternoon in his car, with melting ice cream and shared breaths, would be the final time you'd see Luigi's face in person.

After that day, he'd only exist in grainy security footage and missing person flyers.

It's a specific kind of agony, one that lives beneath your ribs.

You searched every corner of his life — the obvious hiding spots and the secret ones only you knew about. The Bronco yielded nothing but old receipts and a forgotten hoodie that still smelled like him.

You harassed mutual friends until they stopped answering, reached out to people who barely knew him, desperate for any trace.

"If Luigi doesn't want to be found, he won't be," Andrew told you, defeated after failing to track any of his devices that had sat abandoned in his room, right there on his desk to be found. Wiped clean. Stranger-cold.

Even your face was gone from his lock screen, erased like everything else.

Sometimes you wondered if you imagined him entirely.

It would be easier than accepting how methodically he vanished, how carefully he erased himself from your world. But then you'll find evidence — a movie ticket stub, a photo booth strip tucked into an old book. The careful progression from strangers to friends to best friends to that unnamed thing you became.

The way you'd end up tangled in his sheets, his hand gentle at your throat, or how you'd hang up on him three seconds into a call because he knew exactly how to push your buttons.

It couldn't have been real — how could someone who claimed to love every scattered piece of you leave without taking any of them with him?

Therapy wasn't optional anymore.

Your friends watched you spiral into something darker than even middle school heartbreak, something that wrapped around your organs and threaded itself through your bones.

This wasn't the kind of pain that faded; it evolved, grew thorns, made itself at home in your marrow.

But talking helped.

Six months without Luigi became possible, then probable, then real — not because you wanted it, but because the alternative was letting yourself disappear, too.

The letter arrives alone on a Tuesday, no bills or wedding invitations to keep it company, just your name in that familiar scrawl that makes your stomach drop. "What do you think?" you whisper to Mario, who's wagging his tail like he knows something you don't, nudging the envelope across the hardwood with his nose.

Luigi named Mario when you got him as a puppy six years ago; Mario, because he thought they’d become more of a duo than the two of you had been.

And that, they did.

"Mar, quit it," you mutter, wrestling the envelope from under his paw where he's planted himself like a furry anchor. The paper is damp from his nose, and it takes four tries to open it without destroying whatever's inside. Your hands won't stop shaking. "The fuck is this."

Eight words stare back at you.

December 3rd, 8:15PM. Pay phone outside of Murphy's on 12th.

Mario presses his cold nose against the back of the paper as you stare down at it, inhaling deeply like he's trying to memorize something. His tail wags so hard his whole body sways, but then a whine escapes him — low and confused.

You know that sound; It's the same one he makes when he finds one of Luigi's old shirts in the back of your closet, when he can smell what he's looking for but can't find it.

The paper crumples in your fist as Mario leans against your legs, still whining softly. Six months of therapy, of learning to breathe around the hollow space Luigi left behind, of convincing yourself that moving forward meant letting go — and here he is, eight words dropping into your life like a lit match.

Still, you march yourself there.

Mario decided somewhere in these six months that he needed to be more than just a wagging tail and sloppy kisses. He took Luigi's place as protector, navigator, watchful eyes scanning every shadow as you cut through familiar alleyways to Murphy's corner.

Your phone reads

8:20

"Shit." You glance down at Mario, who's pressed against your leg, his head tilted back to study your face with those knowing brown eyes. "Fuck this." The words taste like surrender as you pocket your phone, but Mario plants himself like a furry statue, refusing to let you move.

"Mar, c'mon." Your voice cracks, but he stays rooted until that first metallic ring cuts through the night air. The payphone looks ancient, probably witness to a thousand desperate conversations, a thousand promises made and broken against its scratched plastic shell, and whatever the fuck this is going to be.

Mario's ears prick forward at the second ring.

His tail, which hasn't stopped moving since you left the apartment, goes suddenly still.

The third ring echoes off brick walls, and you realize your hand is already reaching for the receiver, and before you can even press the phone to your ear, his name escapes like a prayer: "Lu — Luigi?" Your voice wavers between accusation and hope, sharp but fragile at the edges.

Through the static, you hear breathing — that familiar rhythm you could still map in your sleep.

"You know you're my best friend, don't you?"

The words hit like a physical force.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tilting your head back against tears that threaten to spill. "Where are you, Lu?" The receiver trembles in your white-knuckled grip like it might hold some piece of him. "I'm sorry I showed up late."

"I knew you would." His voice is soft, almost lost beneath a symphony of distant horns and city life —sounds too big, too foreign for the quiet streets you both grew up in. "8:15 is an odd time, hm? Figured more like 8:30 would be when you actually showed. Surprised you answered this one."

"How are you?" You keep your question careful, safe — one that won't send him running back into silence, into six more months of nothing; and now this strange urban backdrop paints him somewhere far beyond your reach.

“I miss you.” Luigi says softly, words he’d said plenty before, but they had never carried this sort of weight. “That’s how I am, I guess.”

Why did you leave me, then?

Please tell me where you are.

Whatever it is, Lu, we can fix it.

“I miss you too.” Is what you say instead, the line keeping him here with you feeling much like a fading spirit, destined to disappear any moment if you didn’t watch your step. “Mario is lost without you.”

“Ah, he’s a big boy.” Luigi sniffles softly, and you can tell he’s trying to hide it. “Been taking care of you, hasn’t he?”

Your head bobs in a nod he'll never see, and suddenly grief hits like a physical blow, doubling you over in the cracked vinyl booth. A sob tears through you, raw and feral, ripping up those poisoned vines of betrayal that have wound themselves through every hollow space he left behind.

"Please come back, Lu. I can't—" The words strangle in your throat as you curl deeper into the booth's shadow, pressing your forehead against the phone hook.

You're trying to fold yourself smaller, to disappear from the fluorescent exposure of Murphy's front windows, from the pitying glances of late-night sidewalk wanderers who pretend not to notice the spectacle of your breakdown.

"I can't, baby." Luigi's whisper barely exists, a breath caught between static and silence, but you strain toward it like a dying plant toward light. "It can't work that way — there's nothing either of us can do about it."

Questions bloom like bruises under your skin.

Is he sleeping in a real bed?

Has he shaved?

Who's making sure he remembers to eat?

You bite down on your lip until you taste copper, trying to dam the flood of 'why's' threatening to spill out. Each suppressed question burns like bile in your throat. He's already thrust the blade in deep — watching him twist it with such gentle hands makes it somehow worse.

"I just needed you to know I was safe." His voice shifts, crystallizing into something harder, something that sounds less like your Luigi and more like whoever he's becoming. "And that I love you. I needed you to know that."

"I love you." The words fall into a sudden void as the city sounds cut out on the other line, replaced by a sharp fizz of static, and then nothing.

You press the receiver harder against your ear, as if you could force his voice back through sheer desperation, and the tone eventually starts its monotonous song, but you can't make yourself hang up.

You wait in that phone booth for an hour, then two.

The neon signs paint wet streaks of color across the glass, and your legs go numb from standing, but you wait for a call back.

It never comes.

Monday morning's headlines make everything brutally clear.

His name in bold print.

The investigation.

The evidence trail leading nowhere and everywhere at once.

And suddenly you understand why he couldn't stay, why he had to hear your voice one last time, and you wish to God you didn't.

Because now you know he wasn't running from something.

He was running toward it.

#req #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfic

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