#if i made mistakes pls tell me so i can fix it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aliyahwritings · 6 days ago

Text

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (05)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 9.4k

Aliyah's Notes: i have two exams in five years and i still haven't slept, so if u notice any mistakes pls ignore them. i'll fix them when i have time, and yes a scene is inspired by the maddest obsession BUT ANYW AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! THIS CHAPTER IS INSANE AND PLS DONT SCREAM AT ME FOR THE ENDING LIKE IM SO SORRY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE

“Hey, you want to know something?” Sarah said, approaching you as you sat quietly at a table, lost in thought. Beside her, two girls: one had mid-length brown curls and sun-kissed blonde highlights, gave you a friendly grin, her energy light and approachable. The other had wavy, jet-black hair that framed her face, her features both sharp and effortlessly beautiful. They were stunning, you thought, in a way that felt both comforting and a little intimidating. “I never liked her. Even back when she and my brother were together, I never got along with Chiara.”

The girl with the highlighted curls nodded, sliding into the seat next to you. “Same here. There’s always been something... off about her,” she agreed, scrunching her nose in a way that made you smile. “Oh! I’m Kiara, by the way,” she added quickly. “Different spelling than Chiara, but I promise we’re nothing alike.”

The girl with the wavy black hair gave a little wave as she took the seat across from you, her smile warm and easy. “And I’m Cleo,” she introduced herself with a slight accent. “Can’t say I disagree with Sarah and Kie here. Chiara’s just... kind of a staple at these things. She’s always been around, so the guys still invite her out of habit.”

“And if they didn’t, she’d probably throw a tantrum,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

You felt a warmth creeping into your cheeks as you looked at the three of them, surprised by how welcoming they were. “Thanks, girls. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said shyly, offering a small smile.

“Girl, we know who you are,” Cleo came to sit on your side and nudged you softly. “But don’t worry, you’re part of the group now—Chiara who?” she joked, making you all laugh.

You cleared your throat, glancing between the three girls who were deep in conversation. The question had been sitting heavy on your mind since the moment you met Chiara. “So… Rafe and her—did they used to date?”

The girls exchanged a look, the brief silence almost uncomfortable. It was as if they were weighing their words, deciding what to say or what to hold back. Their reluctance only made you want answers more. Who was Chiara to Rafe, really?

Finally, Sarah glanced away, a frown crossing her face. “It’s… complicated.”

You couldn’t help but lean in, unable to stop the curiosity stirring in your chest. “How complicated?” you pressed. “Were they exes? Friends with benefits? Did they break up right before Rafe and I got together? Or was it just her holding on to a crush he never—”

Kiara gently placed a hand over yours, her eyes warm and understanding. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to overthink it, alright?”

You sighed, the uncertainty making your stomach twist. “I just wish I knew what they are—or were—to each other. Rafe hasn’t said a word about her. Not a thing.”

Cleo gave you a sympathetic look, and Sarah hesitated, biting her lip as though weighing whether to say more. Finally, she began, “Wait, so he really didn’t tell you about what they—”

But Sarah’s words were cut off abruptly as Rafe’s voice broke through the noise of the party. “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

The girls turned toward him, their expressions ranging from surprise to mild disgust.

Kiara shot him a skeptical look, brows raised. “Who did he just call ‘sweetheart’?”

Cleo’s eyes widened as she put her hands up in mock innocence. “Definitely not me.”

Sarah shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Don’t look at me. My brother’s never called me any nickname. So, nope, not me either.”

Their eyes turned back to you, and it clicked. Rafe’s gaze was fixed on you, his face serious, almost imploring. You fidgeted with your hands, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Chiara. She was a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation with JJ, yet her eyes were unmistakably trained on you and Rafe. Her expression was unreadable, something between irritation and curiosity, and the ambiguity of it only frustrated you more.

Rafe’s voice softened, his eyes searching yours. “Y/N, let’s go. Please?”

“I’m serious about her, Chiara,” was what Rafe replied earlier, his voice firm but before you could register the words, Chiara grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the garden without so much as a second glance in your direction, leaving you alone in the middle of the party—feeling like a complete idiot.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Rafe’s words. It was exactly what you’d hoped to hear, but his delivery had been off, and the way he left with her immediately afterward left a sour taste. You remember watching them through the windows. Their conversation looked intense. Chiara’s hands moved wildly, gesturing with a frustration that seemed matched by Rafe, who kept sighing and tossing his arms up in exasperation. Whatever they discussed, it was clearly charged.

But now, Rafe was standing in front of you, his expression unreadable as he asked to talk. About what? You didn’t know. Maybe he’d finally explain who Chiara was to him or put to rest the suspicion twisting in your gut, though you doubted he would. Instead of lingering on the countless possibilities, you took a steadying breath, nodded, and followed him outside.

The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the party’s warmth, and you found yourself standing on the porch beside him, facing the quiet street. For a moment, silence fell between you, thick and awkward, as if neither of you knew where to begin. He glanced at you and you felt a flicker of anticipation mixed with unease, wondering what he’d say—if he’d finally give you the answers you were looking for.

Rafe leaned against the porch railing, arms folded, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “Look... Chiara just… she doesn’t handle change well,” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive. “She’s just… used to things being a certain way. She's dramatic."

You crossed your arms, holding back the questions building up. “Right. So, she drags you outside because she’s feeling… what? Dramatic?”

He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, jaw tightening. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice clipped. “She’s… she’s just not used to seeing me with someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light. “Oh, so I’m the problem?”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it’s not you. It’s…” He paused, as if weighing how much he wanted to say. “She just thinks… I don’t know, she has her own ideas about things. She probably assumed things were the way they used to be.”

You frowned. “Used to be?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and when Rafe didn’t answer right away, you continued. “So, you two were… what? Together?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Things just... overlapped for a while. It was just… a thing. A long time ago.”

Your patience was wearing thin. “And by ‘a long time ago,’ you mean… what? Last week? Last month?”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shit, why does it matter? Whatever it was, it’s over, alright? I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you.”

“Maybe you do need to,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks heat. “I think I deserve to know when I’m about to walk into a situation where some girl is going to pull you away and act like I’m the one intruding.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not just ‘some girl.’ She’s… someone I’ve known for a while. And she’s… complicated. Okay?”

“Right. ‘Complicated.’” You let the word hang in the air, dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it’s just so complicated that you couldn’t even bother to tell me about her before dragging me into this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “It’s not like that. I just… I didn’t think she’d show up here. I didn’t think it would matter.”

You shook your head, folding your arms tighter around yourself. “Well, maybe it does matter, Rafe. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she has some claim on you.”

"What?" Rafe’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he straightened up, clearly done with the conversation. “Look, she doesn’t have a fucking ‘claim’ on me. It’s nothing. Just… drop it.”

The bluntness of his words stung, and you took a steadying breath, keeping your voice as even as possible. “Fine,” you said coolly, shrugging as if you weren’t affected. “But you might want to let her know that.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before his gaze met yours again. “You’re overthinking it. She’s… she’s just used to being a part of my life, and now things are different. She’ll deal with it.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Funny, because from where I was standing, it didn’t look like she was planning to just ‘deal with it.’ It looked like she was… I don’t know, trying to stake her territory or something.”

Rafe sighed, looking away again. “That’s just how she is. She’s always… been intense. Doesn’t mean anything.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and something uncomfortably close to jealousy. “So, I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend she didn’t pull you, my boyfriend, outside to… to lecture you about me?”

“Exactly,” he replied, his tone abrupt. “It’s just noise. Don’t pay her any mind.”

The simplicity of his response only fueled your irritation. “Right. Because I should just… ignore all of this and act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to make a scene,” he said, his voice sharper now. “And I didn’t think she’d come here tonight. She just… showed up, okay?”

You paused, studying his expression, which was a mixture of defensiveness and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, what’s the story with her?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, though you knew it was anything but.

Rafe let out a frustrated breath. “There’s no ‘story,’ alright? She’s just… she was around for a while, that’s it. We had… an understanding.”

You raised an eyebrow, the vagueness of his answer only adding to your frustration. “An understanding,” you repeated slowly, crossing your arms tighter. “Well, it seems like she didn’t quite get the memo that whatever ‘understanding’ you had is over.”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the house as if hoping someone would interrupt. “She’ll get over it. I just didn’t expect her to… make it a whole thing.”

“Maybe she made it a whole thing because you haven’t made it clear to her that it’s… nothing,” you said, emphasizing his own words back to him.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It’s not like we're actually together. This—" he said, moving his fingers between you two "—is fake, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, right, because it’s so normal for the girl you used to have… whatever with to show up at a party and act like I’m the one intruding.” You shook your head, exasperated. “Forgive me for wanting to understand the situation.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “It’s just… old history. Not worth bringing up.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of that before dragging me into this,” you shot back, your voice laced with frustration.

He finally met your gaze, his jaw set. “Dragging you into what? It’s not like I invited her here.”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Did you invite me here to watch your past blow up in front of us?”

Rafe let out a bitter laugh. “This is what I get for trying to bring you around my friends. Next time, I’ll keep it strictly professional. How’s that?”

You felt a pang of hurt, but you masked it with a tight smile. “Perfect. I’ll remember that for next time, Rafe.” You turned away, taking a few steps back toward the house, hoping he’d get the hint that you were done.

But Rafe’s hand closed gently around your wrist, stopping you. “Wait.” His voice was low, reluctant, but there was a softness there you hadn’t expected.

You turned, catching his gaze, which had softened just slightly. “What?”

He hesitated, then let go of your wrist, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I just… I didn’t expect her to react this way. I thought… things were clear between us.”

“Clearly, they’re not,” you replied, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

Rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll try to talk to her, alright? Make sure she understands. But can we just… leave it here?”

You watched him, seeing the frustration, the tension in his shoulders, and you knew he wasn’t about to tell you any more than he already had. So, instead of pushing it further, you forced a casual shrug. “Fine. Whatever. It’s none of my business anyway, right?”

A flicker of something passed across his face—surprise, maybe, or regret. “Right. It’s not,” he said, though his voice was quieter, as if the words didn’t sit right with him.

You nodded, biting back the urge to say anything more. “Great. Glad we’re on the same page.”

An awkward silence settled between you, the tension thick and unresolved. Rafe shifted, glancing toward the house. “We should get back. People will start talking if we’re both out here too long.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The sarcasm was sharp, but you didn’t care; you were too irritated to soften it.

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and apology, but said nothing as he turned to head back inside. You followed a few paces behind, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, every unanswered question lingering like a shadow.

Before reaching the door, Rafe paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glanced back at you. “Listen…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “It’s… just a lot, okay? Give me some time. I’ll sort it out.”

You held his gaze, unsure whether to believe him, but you nodded once. “Fine. But make it clear, Rafe. I’m not here to play second fiddle to some girl from your past. My life is on the line and I don't have time to worry about this sort of thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was about to say, he swallowed back. Instead, he gave a tight nod and pushed open the door, slipping back into the noise and light of the party. You followed him and plastered on a fake smile while wondering if you’d ever get the truth out of him.

For the next hour, you put on a mask, pretending everything was fine—like nothing happened. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered, clouding every moment. What was Rafe and Chiara’s relationship? You forced yourself to focus on the laughter, the music, and the warmth of the people around you, determined to enjoy the night with Rafe’s friends. Yet every so often, your mind drifted back to Chiara and Rafe, leaving an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

Rafe took you around the room, introducing you to his teammates: Topper Thornton, Kelce Miller, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, and John B Routledge. They each greeted you with a friendly smile and a welcoming vibe. You found yourself particularly drawn to Topper's lighthearted humor and Pope's quiet charm, making it a bit easier to relax. But it was the girls who truly helped lift your spirits. Their energy was infectious, and you quickly found yourself laughing and swapping stories as if you’d known them forever.

Just as you were in the middle of an animated conversation, you heard someone call out, "Miss supermodel!" You turned to see Topper staggering toward you with a mischievous grin, clearly several drinks deep. “Come drink with us! You haven’t had a single sip all night!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he swayed slightly, holding up a red cup with a challenging look. He finally came in front of you and you had to shake your head. “I’m sorry, Topper. I can’t drink tonight. I’m on contract.”

He whined and threw his head back. “Why? A little sip won’t hurt you, right? Come on, please.”

You laughed, shaking your hands as he pouted dramatically, swaying slightly. “Topper, you’re wasted! I think you’ve had enough for both of us.”

He held his heart in mock offense. “Oh, come on! Just one tiny sip!” He held out the cup, swirling it a little as if to tempt you. “Look, it’s just tequila! You can handle tequila, right?”

You hesitated, glancing down at the cup and then back at his hopeful face. “I really shouldn’t… If anyone from the agency finds out, I’m in trouble.”

“Who’s gonna know? It’s just us here, right?” He looked around, grinning mischievously. “Your secret’s safe with me. And, hey, you can’t just let me be the only one embarrassing myself tonight.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Alright, one sip. But that’s it, okay?”

Topper’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yes! That’s all I’m asking for.” He held out the cup, his face eager with anticipation.

You took the cup from him, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you as his friends turned to watch, clearly amused by the scene. Raising the cup to your lips, you took a big sip, the tequila burning as it went down. You scrunched your nose at the taste, earning a round of cheers from Topper and the girls.

“There we go! Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Awful,” you teased, wiping your lips. “But now you can’t say I didn’t drink with you.”

Topper gave you a victorious grin. “I knew you’d come through! You’re practically one of us now.”

You should’ve known.

Less than an hour later, you were stumbling across the living room, thoroughly tipsy and clinging to Kiara, who was somehow even more drunk than you. The two of you were giggling uncontrollably, reduced to hysterics over the silliest things—the pretzels shaped like animals, the crooked painting on the wall. Every little thing was hilarious, and the alcohol only seemed to amplify your laughter and loosen your inhibitions.

Lost in your little bubble, you didn’t notice Rafe watching from across the room, his gaze sharp and unblinking as he kept tabs on you. He hadn’t seen you like this before—free-spirited, a little reckless, and definitely wilder than he was used to. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you shout out something along the lines of, “Everyone should just strip already!” before lifting the hem of your top, ready to make good on your words.

That was Rafe’s cue. In a flash, he crossed the room, slipping his hands over yours before you could pull your shirt over your head. His touch was firm, grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "Whoa there," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, but his eyes were warm, almost protective.

You blinked up at Rafe, a goofy grin plastered across your face as you realized he was standing right in front of you. The room spun just a little, but his steady hands on yours felt oddly comforting.

“Rafe!” you slurred, beaming as though you hadn’t seen him in days. “Fuck! Isn’t it, like, super hot in here?”

Rafe smirked, shaking his head. “I think that’s just the tequila talking, baby,” he replied, steadying you as you swayed. His fingers stayed wrapped around yours, almost possessive, but he didn’t let go.

You pouted, glancing around at the half-dressed friends who were now laughing at your enthusiastic outburst. “Fine, but I was just trying to help everyone loosen up, you know?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ve definitely loosened up,” he chuckled, his eyes scanning you, both entertained and slightly exasperated. “Maybe… a little too much.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “You know you enjoy it.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, but there was something else there, too—like he was seeing a side of you he hadn’t before. “Maybe I do,” he replied, his voice low, almost as if the words had slipped out unintentionally. He cleared his throat, his grip tightening on your hands. “But I also love it when you’re not stripping in front of half my team.”

You giggled, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair. “Aww, big, tough Rafe is jealous I haven’t stripped to him first, is that it?”

Just then, Kiara stumbled over, clearly in search of more entertainment. “Hey! Let’s play a game, everyone!”

Rafe sighed. “Alright, I think that’s our cue to leave,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back at you.

You tugged on Rafe’s arm, leaning into him with a dramatic pout. “Nooooo… let’s play the game, and then we can go,” you insisted.

“Y/N, you’re beyond wasted,” he said, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “I doubt you’ll even be able to play the game right.”

“I am not drunk,” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly. The words slurred just slightly, giving you away. Rafe’s skeptical look only deepened. “I’m just a little tipsy,” you amended quickly, giving him a grin. “Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill.”

He hesitated, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue, but as you flashed him your brightest, most convincing smile, he sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine,” he muttered, finally giving in.

You joined everyone on the floor, settling into a circle with a bottle of vodka at the center and shot glasses placed around. The music was turned down, but the room’s energy buzzed with anticipation. You found yourself between Rafe on your left and Sarah on your right. Across from you were Pope, Cleo, John B, and Chiara, each giving you encouraging grins or a raised brow.

Kiara took charge with a gleeful smile. “Alright, you all know how Never Have I Ever works, right?” She scanned the group, receiving nods all around. “Perfect! If anyone wants to skip a question, you take a shot. Simple enough. Should I start?” She tapped her chin playfully before flashing a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever dated someone at least ten years older than me.”

A chorus of laughter and surprised murmurs rippled through the group as Rafe, Kelce, and Topper each dropped a finger. A few gasps followed, and your eyes darted to Rafe, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"So, you’re into cougars, huh?” you whispered, unable to hide your amused smile.

He shrugged, glancing at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Not anymore,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips. The slow lick he gave his own sent a spark through you, making you gulp and look away quickly. Was it the alcohol, or did he just do that on purpose?

JJ smirked, taking the lead for the next round. “Alright, let’s up the stakes. Never have I ever been in handcuffs…and I don’t mean the kind from a police station.”

The number of people lowering their fingers was surprising. Sarah, John B, Kelce, Chiara, Cleo...and even you. As soon as you put your finger down, Rafe snapped his head in your direction, his eyes wide with surprise. You avoided his gaze, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you focused elsewhere, feeling his lingering stare and the unspoken question in his eyes.

“Lots of naughty people here,” Kiara smirked, eyeing the group of us who had fingers down. Her grin was wicked as she surveyed the room, making everyone squirm just a little. “I see y’all… I see y’all! Alright, someone else ask the next question!”

Topper jumped at the chance, grinning as he dramatically raised a finger. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room,” he declared, looking around with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

You watched as some people—those who were obviously in relationships (and Chiara)—put their fingers down, laughing and giving each other cute looks. You shrugged, you didn’t relate to that question. You didn’t do anything, leaning back as others shared knowing glances. But then, Rafe nudged your shoulder, leaning down close enough for you to feel his breath against your ear.

“Come on, put a finger down,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb grazing in gentle circles, as if to coax you into admitting something.

You shook your head, letting out a sleepy laugh. “I don’t have a crush on anyone,” you slurred, clearly drunk. Your words came out slower, a bit softer, and you could feel Rafe chuckle beside you, probably entertained by how far gone you were.

“Did you forget we’re together?” he asked, amused. Without waiting for your response, he took your hand and put a finger down for you. His touch was gentle, yet possessive.

JJ spotted the exchange, laughter bursting out of him as he pointed at you. “Oh, damn, Rafe! She actually forgot she even likes you!”

Rafe shot him a mock glare, flipping him off with a grin. “That’s on you, fuck-heads, for handing her all those shots,” he retorted, pointing an accusatory finger around the group. “We’re gonna head out soon if she keeps this up.”

“No! Don’t go!” Cleo’s voice suddenly cut through, practically pouting. “I like her! Don’t take her away from me—us!”

Pope waved his hands, laughing as he tried to steer the game back on course. “Alright, let’s just keep this moving before the girls start crying. Here’s one—never have I ever had a threesome.”

The room went quiet, people hesitating to react. Then smirks appeared, and the accusations started flying at JJ, with Topper and a few others pointing fingers. “Come on, man! We literally saw you making out with two girls at once last month!”

You felt the conversation slipping in and out, barely paying attention to the bickering. Your head felt heavy, and with each passing second, you found yourself drifting further. Almost without realizing it, you leaned into Rafe’s shoulder, your head resting there like it had always belonged. His arm wrapped around you, hand trailing up and down your shoulder in comforting circles, and you closed your eyes, feeling strangely at peace. His warmth surrounded you, making the noise around you blur into the background. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you could stay like this forever.

Across the room, Chiara’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the two of you, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. Her stare was sharp, piercing, and a flash of something darker seemed to flicker there.

“Hey, guys! Let’s stop arguing and actually play,” Sarah called out, snapping everyone’s attention back to the game. She pointed at you and Rafe, grinning. “Those two are practically out like lights! Okay, here’s one: never have I ever had sex in a movie theater.”

Laughter erupted again as John B hesitated, clearly too shy to admit to anything. You looked up at Rafe, raising an eyebrow playfully as if to ask if he’d ever done something like that. He met your gaze, shaking his head.

When he raised his brow to ask you the same question, you mimicked his gesture, shaking your head. But then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned into him, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Bathrooms, though… I’ve done it there.” You weren’t sure why you said it—he hadn’t even asked. “I don’t know if that counts…”

Rafe’s brows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re freakier than you look.”

You chuckled, leaning back. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t look like the type?”

He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes wander over you, his gaze lingering on your lips before it drifted back up to your eyes. “Not exactly,” he murmured, voice low.

“Oh?” you asked, hand drifting to rest on his thigh, watching the glint in his blue eyes intensify as he looked down at your hand. “Come on, Cameron. Tell me what I look like, then.”

His fingers traced light patterns under the hem of your shirt, brushing over the skin at your waist in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You look like you want to be fucked roughly,” he paused, letting his words linger before he added with a smirk, “but maybe you should get some sleep instead.”

You playfully swatted his arm, pushing yourself upright with a laugh. “Screw you, Rafe.”

With a grin, he pulled you back to his side, wrapping his arms around you as you settled against him again. “Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle but teasing. “You know I’m just messing with you—”

Chiara Romano’s voice cut through the chatter with an edge sharper than before. “Okay, my turn now,” she said, raising her head, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel uneasy. “Never have I ever…” she paused, letting her gaze linger on you a moment longer, her lips curling into a smirk that held none of the warmth and humor everyone else’s questions had. “... never have I ever filmed myself in the bathroom puking my guts out after eating.”

A shocked silence fell over the room. You felt the air freeze, every eye darting to Chiara in disbelief, and then back to you. The words hit like a punch to the gut, and the humiliation was instant and overwhelming. Your face flushed as the awful memories flooded back—the horrible moment that video had been leaked, exposing your bulimia to the world without mercy. You’d spent months trying to rebuild, to reclaim your own story, but now it was out in the open again, with a cruelty that left you breathless.

Your cheeks flamed with humiliation, and your chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room. You felt every gaze on you, piercing, questioning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s eyes. Your fingers curled around your tighs, gripping tightly, almost leaving red marks.

You closed your eyes the moment you felt tears coming up. You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, it was embarrassing enough that they got reminded of the most embarrassing moment of your life—crying would embarrass you even more. None of them know what you went through after that video got leaked. No one knew the nights you spent in rehab centers getting mocked for the video—as if everyone there wasn’t in because of mental illnesses too. They didn’t know the amount of strength it took for you to finally get clean… only for you to relapse again this afternoon.

They didn’t fucking know!

Rafe stood up beside you, his body going tense beside you. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck is wrong you?” he yelled, his voice sharp, like he was barely holding back.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, though the smirk stayed firmly on her face. “What? I thought we were all sharing our secrets here, right? After all, the video has already been leaked for everyone to see, like, years ago… didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

You felt like you were drowning, the walls closing in on you as Chiara’s words rang in your ears. Without thinking, you bolted for the door, the need to escape driving you forward. You pushed past Rafe, who instinctively reached out for you, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to get out, away from the judgment, away from the stares that felt like daggers. The cold night air hit you as you stepped outside, but it didn’t matter; all you could think about was putting as much distance between yourself and the party as possible.

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching you instantly. You stumbled through the downpour, your heart racing as you made your way toward the car, the asphalt slick and glistening under the streetlights. You couldn’t believe it had come to this, running away like some frightened child, but the humiliation burned too fiercely to stand another moment.

Behind you, you heard Rafe call out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. “Y/N! Fuck—wait!” He sounded frantic, his tone a mix of worry and urgency. You could hear him rushing after you, his footsteps splashing through puddles as he chased you down.

“Just leave me alone!” you shouted over your shoulder, the words coming out more desperate than you intended. You didn’t want to feel his pity, didn’t want him to see you like this—broken and exposed.

“Look, I’m so sorry for what she—”

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Rafe!” you turned around to see him running toward you. His clothes clinging to his body. “Just go back there, and leave me alone for the night, alright?”

“I’m not leaving you!” he shouted back, his voice firm. You could hear the determination in his tone, and it both soothed and angered you. Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

You reached the car, fumbling with the door handle, your fingers slipping as the rain poured down, obscuring your vision. You wanted to get inside, to hide from everything—from Chiara, from your mistakes, from the shame that clung to you like a second skin.

Just as you finally got the door open, Rafe was there, blocking your way. He stood next to you, soaking wet but unbothered, his expression fierce and protective. “Y/N, please,” he urged, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Come on… Just… just talk to me.”

His presence was grounding, but you couldn’t shake off the overwhelming tide of emotions surging through you. “What’s there to talk about?” you asked, your voice broke. “It’s all out there for everyone to see. I couldn’t handle it back then and I… I can’t handle it now. I can’t…” you felt tears pooling at your eyes.

Rafe took a step closer, rain cascading down his face, but he didn’t reach for you. Instead, he held his hands up, palms facing you. “Don’t run away from this.”

“Watch me,” you shot back, glaring at him through tears. “You can’t fix this, Rafe, so just let me go.”

“I am not letting you go,” he insisted. “What she did was cruel—she felt miserable seeing us together. You know better than this.”

“Do I?” you echoed, feeling your own resolve wavering as you locked eyes with him. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with the history she just exposed. You’re not the one who’s been ridiculed for something that was leaked against your will!”

“Neither am I the one hiding in a corner, sulking because some jealous bitch decided to take a cheap shot,” Rafe countered, his frustration evident. “You’re stronger than this, so stop acting like you’re not. Stand up for yourself!”

“Stand up for myself?” You laughed, a hollow sound that echoed in the rain. “And how do you suggest I do that? By going back there and asking her to apologize? By acting like it doesn’t hurt?”

“Why give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s getting to you?”

“Because it’s easy!” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “It’s easier to run away and hide than it is to face the pain! Don’t you get that? I thought I was done with all of this, and now I’m just… I’m back to square one. I thought you understood me better than that.”

“Clearly, I don’t,” he said, his tone cutting. “You want to hide, and I’m not going to let you hide from yourself. I care about you, Y/N...”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, caught between anger and a flicker of something deeper. “What you care about is saving face. You want the perfect girlfriend who can handle anything. But I’m not that person, Rafe. I’m a mess. I have issues, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not.”

He stepped closer, the tension between you thick and electric. “And I’m not asking you to pretend. I’m asking you to be real. To be honest about what you’re feeling. We can face this if you’d just let me help you instead of pushing me away.”

You hesitated, the rain drumming a steady rhythm around you as you stared at him. “Maybe I don’t want your help. Maybe I don’t need anyone to fix me.”

“Then why the hell are you running away from this?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “Because it’s too hard? Because it makes you uncomfortable? Life is uncomfortable, Y/N! That’s the reality, and running away doesn’t change that.”

“I just don’t want to do this right now,” you shot back, the weariness of the night creeping in. “I didn’t sign up for a therapy session. I wanted to have fun, to forget, and now it feels like I’m being dragged back into all the crap.”

Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained. “And you can’t forget by ignoring it. You have to face it, and I’m not going to let you do it alone. If that means we argue, then so be it. But I’m not walking away.”

You looked away, biting your lip to keep the frustration at bay. “Maybe you should. Maybe it would be easier for both of us.”

“Easier? For who?” he challenged but you couldn’t answer him anymore.

You didn’t have the strength to fight. You sighed. “Can you get me home or not?”

He ran his hands through his buzzcut and nodded. “You’re not gonna say goodbye to everyone?” You shook your head, not wanting to get back in there and look at them staring at you. “Alright… get in the car, then.”

You climbed into the passenger seat, the cool leather sticking to your damp clothes. Rafe slipped in beside you, his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel. Neither of you said a word, the silence thick and uncomfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. You stared out the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass, trying to focus on anything other than the weight of the tension that hung between you.

Your heart was still pounding, the adrenaline from the confrontation lingering in your veins. You could feel the shame gnawing at you, the humiliation settling into a deep, aching hollow inside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe shifting in his seat, glancing at you every so often, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something. But he kept quiet, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked road ahead. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a small, nervous rhythm that betrayed the stillness in the car.

The silence was suffocating, heavy with words unsaid. You could feel the questions he wanted to ask, the concern he held back, but he didn’t press. Part of you appreciated it, yet another part of you wished he would just break the silence, say something to shatter this unbearable quiet.

You stole a glance at him, his brow furrowed, jaw clenched. He was clearly wrestling with something, struggling between respecting your need for space and his own instinct to reach out. But his restraint made everything feel even more surreal, like the two of you were strangers again, pretending not to know each other’s pain.

Eventually, you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill of your damp clothes seep into your skin.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment building, he kept the engine running, his hands still gripping the wheel tightly. He didn’t make any move to get out or say goodbye. He just sat there, glancing out the window before looking back at you, his lips parting slightly as if he might finally say something.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed the door open, stepping out into the drizzle that had softened into a gentle mist. The cold bit into your skin, but you barely noticed. You closed the door behind you, barely looking back, willing yourself not to dwell on the weight of his stare as you turned toward the entrance of your building—but you paused, feeling a pang of dread at the thought of stepping into your apartment alone. The quiet and emptiness that usually felt like a sanctuary now seemed suffocating. You hesitated, glancing back at the car where Rafe still sat, staring out into the rain.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned back and walked toward him, knocking gently on his window. He looked up, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his face as he rolled the window down. The awkwardness was palpable, hanging between you like a fragile thread.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just—I just don’t feel like being alone right now.” You glanced away, feeling vulnerable, exposed. This wasn’t easy to admit, especially not to him.

Rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. He hesitated, the tension in his posture softening as he considered your request. “Uh, yeah… sure,” he replied, though there was a touch of awkwardness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he was the right person for this. Still, he killed the engine and got out of the car, following you toward the entrance.

Inside the building, you moved wordlessly up the stairs together, the elevator’s light out as usual. The quiet between you was no longer charged with unspoken tension but instead carried a strange, subdued calm. Each step felt heavier, and you could feel his presence just a few inches behind you, grounding you in a way that felt strangely comforting.

When you finally reached your door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, flicking on a dim light that bathed the space in a warm, muted glow. Rafe followed, taking in the familiar yet intimate details of your apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. He looked unsure, like he didn’t quite know where to stand or what to say, so he hovered near the doorway.

You offered him a small, grateful smile and gestured toward the couch. “You can sit, if you want. I’ll make some tea or something,” you mumbled, moving toward the kitchen before he could respond. The warmth of your apartment slowly started to chip away at the lingering chill from the rain outside, and you felt a hint of comfort beginning to settle in.

When you returned with two mugs, Rafe had taken a seat on the couch, his gaze still wandering around the room, perhaps more at ease now. He accepted the tea with a quiet “thanks,” and you sat beside him, the silence stretching out once more, but this time it didn’t feel as heavy.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that your knees almost touch, and every so often, your eyes meet and then dart away, a faint spark igniting each time.

It’s you who finally breaks the voice, your voice soft. “I’m going to change. I can… One of my friends’ left his clothes there, I can give them to you, if you want?”

Rafe looked up from his mug, his expression caught between surprise and a hesitant relief. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be great,” he replied, glancing down at his damp clothes, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

You rose from the couch, moving to your room to dig through the small pile of clothes left behind from friends. Finding an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants, you returned and handed them to him, offering a half-smile. “They might be a little big, but better than wet clothes.”

He nodded, accepting them with a quiet “Thanks,” and stepped into the bathroom to change. The moment he was out of sight, you took a deep breath, feeling the quiet around you settle into something both calm and unfamiliar, his presence somehow easing the edges of your earlier anxiety. You wrapped your arms around yourself, still shaken by everything that had happened, but also oddly comforted by knowing you weren’t alone tonight.

When he emerged, dressed in the loose-fitting hoodie and sweats, he looked different—more relaxed, less guarded. He took a tentative step back into the living room, running a hand through his damp hair as he caught your eye, almost sheepish.

You managed a faint smile, gesturing to the couch again, and he sank down beside you. He set his mug on the table, his fingers fidgeting slightly before he leaned back, settling in.

“Well, I... I’ll just go change. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, your voice soft but inviting. Leaving Rafe in the living room, you headed to your bedroom, slipping into a comfortable black tank top and a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants—the ones Nina, your agent, gifted you when you’d first arrived in the U.S. They were worn in with memories, each time you wore them a reminder of how far you’d come. You removed your makeup and pulled your hair into a ponytail, feeling lighter and more yourself.

When you reemerged, you noticed Rafe standing in the hallway, intently studying a small collection of photos you had on the wall. You approached him quietly, noticing that he was particularly focused on a picture of you from when you were nineteen, dressed in a deep green saree at a friend’s wedding in the States. You were surrounded by your group of friends, all of you smiling.

“You looked beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might disturb something precious in the moment.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling a soft warmth rise in your cheeks. You glanced back at the photo, remembering how special that day was. “I really like this one. I’d just arrived here and didn’t know many people yet. Then a few friends invited me to the wedding, and I felt... confident, you know? Like I could start fresh here. And wearing a saree again just felt like home—the color, everything... It was my first time going to a wedding here.”

“And how did it feel?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You let out a small laugh, recalling the night. “It was just like back home, only better in some ways. No one really knew who I was, so I didn’t have any aunties critiquing me. Though they did make sure I had enough food to last a week,” you chuckled, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. The memory was comforting, a reminder of the warmth that had welcomed you into this new life.

“The color suits you,” he said, his eyes still lingering on the photo before meeting yours with a hint of a smile.

“You sure you’re not only saying that because it’s your favorite co—”

Before you could finish your phrase, he closed the space between you, his hands finding your face as he pulled you into a rough, heated kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a passion that caught you completely off guard, leaving you breathless, swept up in the sudden intensity of his need.

When he finally pulled back, your pulse was racing, and you stared at him, dazed. “Why… why did you kiss me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, still trying to catch your breath.

A slow smirk spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I wanted to know what you tasted like… again,” he murmured, his voice thick with a teasing confidence that made your cheeks flush.

You swallowed, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips. “And what do I taste like?”

He studied your lips for a moment, then met your gaze with a dangerous glint. “Come il mio,” he said softly in Italian, his words like a promise before his mouth captured yours again, this time slower but just as consuming.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back into the living room, his hands firm as they slid around your waist, drawing you close. He lowered you onto the sofa, his lips moving from your mouth to trace a path down the curve of your neck, igniting your skin with each graze of his mouth. His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he continued kissing you, his breath warm against your skin, leaving you dizzy and yearning for more.

You moaned softly when he kissed and sucked the curve just below your collarbone. His lips pressed firmly against your skin, his mouth hot and possessive. The gentle graze of his teeth sent a jolt of desire through you, leaving you breathless and wanting for more. He lingered there, sucking and kissing with a fervor that made you ache for him, making you grind against him unconsciously.

“That’s going to show, Cameron,” you tried to scold him, breathless, feeling both exposed and exhilarated as he moved lower, tracing the outline of your neck.

A wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “Good. I want everyone to know.” The rasp of his voice, thick with desire, made your insides flutter as he leaned in closer, his mouth capturing the tender skin just below your ear.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over you. Your flushed skin, your red and pulped lips, and your hard nipples. He was admiring the evidence of his claim. The look in his gaze made your pulse quicken, both thrilling and intoxicating, as if he were savoring the sight of you beneath him.

“Shit! You look perfect like this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over one of the marks he’d left behind. The softness of his touch contrasted sharply with the heat pooling in your core, making you feel both cherished and utterly desired. “Like you belong to me.”

You sat up abruptly, a surge of confidence washing over you as you peeled off your top, revealing your bare breasts to the air without a hint of shame. Maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over you, filled with wonder and desire, as if you were the most beautiful sight he had ever encountered. Or perhaps it was the intoxicating buzz of alcohol still coursing through your veins, amplifying your boldness.

Either way, you didn't care.

“I’m the luckiest motherfucker on earth,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and awestruck, before sinking back onto the sofa, his lips finding your skin with fervor. His mouth was like fire against your breasts as he sucked and kissed, igniting a wild heat within you. You threaded your fingers through his closely cropped hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the pleasure of his touch. His tongue flicked against your nipple, sending delicious shivers coursing through your body, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gone so long without him.

As his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, your breath hitched with anticipation. His hand glided up your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed him most. “Rafe…” you breathed, your voice trembling with longing. “Please…”

“Please what?” he challenged, his tone teasing but laced with desire. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Just… touch me. I want you to touch me,” you moaned, your hips instinctively rolling against his hard cock-straining against the fabric of the sweatpants you gave him.

“Touch you where?”

His playful question sent a spark of frustration through you, and instead of answering verbally, you guided his hand, placing it firmly on your pussy. “Here. Touch me here. Please…”

In an instant, your pajama pants were gone, discarded like the inhibitions that had held you back. He kissed his way down your stomach, trailing hot kisses over the fabric of your panties, before moving to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t resist glancing down at him, but something tugged at your thoughts. You called out his name, your voice breathy.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, looking up with hunger.

“Take it off.” You pointed at his shirt, and without hesitation, he stripped it off in one smooth motion, revealing his chiseled torso. He climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, radiating warmth and strength. You couldn’t help but reach out, exploring his body—his hair, his lips, his broad chest, and the defined muscles of his abs.

With a sudden intensity, he kissed you again, their lips melding together as if they were made for one another. But after a moment that felt too short, he pulled away and descended between your legs once more.

Just the image of him between your legs could make you come.

“God, I want to taste you,” he groaned, his fingers touching your clit through your panties. “Tell me, pretty, do you want me to taste you?”

You nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“I do,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. “I want you so fucking much, gosh!”

As the heat in the room swelled, just when you thought Rafe would finally remove your underwear, he suddenly stopped. His hands ran frantically through his hair as he began to pace around your living room, his agitation palpable. Confusion washed over you, your brow furrowing in concern as you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Rafe, please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head, the anguish in his eyes cutting through the atmosphere like a knife. “I can’t do this—”

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Panic tightened your chest as you searched his face for answers.

“Have sex with you,” he finally admitted, his gaze finally locking onto yours. “I can’t have sex with you, Y/N.”

The world around you faded, and a cold wave of vulnerability crashed over you, leaving you feeling exposed and raw. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you scrambled to grab your black top from the floor, pulling it over your head, a desperate attempt to cover not just your body but the aching hurt in your heart. “Wha… why? Why can’t you? We were doing so well… I thought it was good.”

Rafe stepped closer, his expression softening but shadowed with pain. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, but instead of comfort, it felt worsel. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. But then, he turned and walked toward the hallway to put on his shoes, and the ache in your chest grew.

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Panic surged through you as you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door to block his path. “Tell me why,” you insisted, your voice cracking as you wiped away the tears that had begun to fall.

“Y/N, you’re drunk…”

“So are you! You’re tipsy!” you threw your arms up in frustration. “Why does that matter? I want you. You want me—”

“Because I don’t want you to regret it,” he said, his voice breaking as if the words were tearing him apart. He sighed deeply, the weight of his decision hanging heavy between you. “I don’t want you to hate yourself when you wake up in the morning because you slept with me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rafe. Please don’t leave. Stay here with me—we don’t have to do anything,” you pleaded, desperation dripping from your every word.

But his mind was made up. He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours one last time, a sweet farewell filled with unspoken emotions. As he asked you to step aside, you felt a piece of your heart crack. You moved reluctantly, watching as he walked toward the elevator, each step echoing in your mind like a countdown to the end.

Just before the doors closed, he turned back, his expression a mixture of regret and sorrow that mirrored your own. “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

And then he was gone.

Since then, you haven't heard from him in two weeks.

chapter six

753 notes · View notes

slttygeto · 11 months ago

Text

tags: japanese is not reader’s first language (or mine so sorry if i made a mistake!), and she has an accent and struggles to pronounce a sentence (it wasn’t warm), established relationship, satoru is whipped.

word count: 0,3k. very short :)

satoru loves you like a breezy summer night. it’s hot for most of the day, yet when open the balcony door at 3am, you sigh in content at the icy air. he loves you like the smell of waffles coming from the kitchen, they’re not burnt or undercooked, they’re crispy and golden and you sprinkle some nuts on top after cutting slices of banana and drizzling some honey. but what satoru is sure of, is that he loves you as if he were there the day you were created.

he admires what you do with adoration, admiration and love. he doesn’t need to give verbal praise for you to know that he is so proud of you.

“so when I went to check my plate in the microwave, it was not–it was not warm—“ you struggle a bit with the pronunciation of the japanese phrase, your accent slipping and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. you were telling your boyfriend about how you should fix the microwave, but somehow managed to struggle so much with a sentence. satoru is quick to remove your hand and join in the laugh, but he pulls you towards his chest carefully and throws his head back.

the heart that once felt empty, unsatisfied was now filled with nothing but love. pure, unconditional love for a person who came into his life on a whim.

“it was not warm,” satoru repeats lowly, the words gliding out of his mouth with so much ease. he is an expert at this, given that it is his native language. he resta his hands on your shoulders as his eyes rake over your face. the slight flush to it is adorable, he thinks.

“it was…not warm,”

“good job,” his voice drops a volume lower, his hands holding your face as his thumbs caress your cheeks. “my smart girl, knows so many languages that her brain gets a little fried sometimes,”

“it does,” as you sigh, you get on your tip toes and peck his lips. but once is never enough for satoru, so he pecks you again. and again and again.

“enough. you have work to do,” your hand pushes softly at his chest, giggling when he starts to kiss under your ear.

“work can wait,”

“what if it’s an emergency?”

“let em die—“

“no!”

based on what i found on google, “it wasn’t warm” translates to “Atatakakunakatta” so i thought why not! if it’s wrong tho, do correct me pls!

note: based on a cute thing @aurelianamu told me abt her and satoru :) this one’s for you best friend!

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #gojo comfort #gojo imagine #gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

2K notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 5 months ago

Note

More Wandanat pls 😊

Title: Are you Avoiding me?

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2935

Warnings: pet names, sexual situations implied, broken glass, and horrible spelling (I don't proofread).

Summary: It's becoming harder and harder for reader to avoid both Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Things only get worse when they're cornered in their lab.

[A/n: This is just a little drabble, that's been sitting in my drafts for months, nothing with too much sustinance! I've been distracting myself lately with Wenclair content instead of writing]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

There were thousands of mugs with Shield’s logo on the side that floated around the compound, changing hands between agents and the high-ranking Avengers. It’s why you felt less bad about dropping the one in your grasp to the floor. It shattered into dozens of pieces, and the rest of the pale coffee you were drinking seeped out of the wreckage.

“Ow! Why? Why?” Clint’s voice had turned to a growl by the end of his sentence. He had righted himself and gripped his own mug to his chest, leveling you with a glare that was much too vicious this early in the morning.

The words were trapped in your throat and you dropped down behind the kitchen island, pressing yourself close enough to the wood to become apart of the grain. If you could just hide long enough for them to wander away, then all would be well.

The archer glanced down at you, and then back to the hallway that passed the communal kitchen. Natasha Romanoff had her brow furrowed, lifting a sculped eyebrow at him. She had just come back from her morning run, a fine sheen of sweat coating her muscles. He gave her a shrug and that was enough encouragement to send her on her way.

You let out a long sigh at the sound of her footsteps retreating. “Don’t look at me like that, Barton.”

“I can look at you anyway I want to, you’re the one that would rather be on the ground than talk to Natasha.”

It wasn’t just talking to Natasha. It was looking at her too; breathing the same air as her, meeting her fern-colored eyes across the room and ceasing to have a tangible thought pattern. You were an Avenger, for fucks sake, an ex-KGB spy shouldn’t make you fumble the way that you did.

“It’s not that hard, y/n. She’s harmless, really.”

That was easy for him to say. You huffed quietly and picked up the broken pieces of mug before depositing them into the trashcan. Coffee would make you too jittery anyway. So, if you really thought about it, your nerves had done you a favor.

“She’s terrifying.” You said, reaching for an empty glass. You filled it up with tap water and tentatively took a sip. It went down clunky and cold. “And gorgeous.”

“A combination that renders you absolutely useless.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Clint lifted both of his eyebrows at you, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. And you didn’t need all of this judgement from him in the first place. He had been so scared of Natasha that he couldn’t bring her in, in the first place. He would tell it differently, but you didn’t stick around to find out.

There were other things that you had to do; like a mountain of paperwork and a few modifications to the Vibranium arm that had found its way onto your desk. A cold shower wouldn’t do you any harm either. And if your fingers were to wander? No one would know.

You flashed him the middle finger, abandoning all thoughts of nourishment for the day. Tony kept his labs stocked with bottled water and granola bars after some nagging from Pepper. That would hold you over until lunch and if you started to drift, there were plenty of electrical sources that would give you a low-grade jolt.

Most of the time, you kept your head down, earbuds in even if they weren’t playing music. It was easier not to get caught up in the fanfare of the Avengers. Most of them were human, and they made human mistakes even if they weren’t.

You answered your superiors and fixed any problems that arose with tech and machinery, sometimes even costuming. Those things were simple, cut and dry. Your feelings for Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff weren’t even slightly that.

There was admiration from afar, and Clint would even say a numbness that clouded your brain completely. That celebrity that all other agents produced around any of the spandex wearing heroes often evaded you.

But each time Wanda stepped through the doors of your lab to get a personal watch fixed, or once, a VHS player that had the scent of smoke and burning plastic. She’d jutted out her lower lip when a copy of ‘I Love Lucy’ was burnt to a crisp.

Despite your meager salary, you had found one at the thrift and set it outside her door without a word. Not a romantic gesture, Clint. You should have seen her face. It was something you’d do as a friend, a co-worker.

Your shoulder collided with something strong, yet soft. There was a small grunt released from the back of your throat. You got a mouthful of the scent of rain and vanilla tobacco. But strong hands were suddenly gripping your forearms, keeping you steady.

Your eyes widened and met with curious hazel ones. You thought you gave Natasha enough time to get back to her room. But here she was, in that tight tank top, sweat drenching the collar. She looked beautiful, the lights overhead hitting her.

Agent Romanoff reached up and pulled one of your earbuds out, letting it hang loose against your chest. “Doctor y/l/n, are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding?” You laughed with a little too much force, compensating for the lost air by snorting and instantly regretting it. A light blush fell over your cheeks. She didn’t look mad, in fact, she looked quite amused. “No, no. I’m not avoiding.”

“So, what would you call ducking down behind the counter in the kitchen?”

“How did you…”

“I’m a superspy and you’re not exactly subtle.”

Yeah. You’d forgotten about that. She didn’t’ allude to the fact, simply continuing on her way and leaving you to your horrible conversation with Clint. But then she had waited in front of your lab, her own clearance not allowing her past the sliding doors without you in it.

She lilted her head to the side “Don’t worry about it, it’s actually rather adorable.”

The heat against your cheeks started to spread down your neck and to your collarbone. If she noticed, and of course she noticed, she didn’t’ say anything. But she released her hold, and you fought back a whimper of disappointment.

“What can I do for you, Agent Romanoff?”

“Us, actually.” She responded, eyes darting towards the locked doors. “I’d rather talk somewhere a bit more private, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely that’s alight. If this is about the Widow Bites that I redesigned then I can most definitely tweak them. We don’t want you to get a jolt every time you use them. Not that I’m saying you’re not skilled enough to avoid that,”

You kept talking as you swiped your card and it with a beep, walking into the instant familiarity of your lab. There was a coolness there for tactical purposes, but it washed over your heated skin and hopefully took some of the soft color away.

You started to flit around the lab, flicking on all the lights and the different purifiers. There was an experiment that Fitz was working on that needed a rotating heat source and that was turned on as well.

“If we remove the outer panel and with a little tweaking, we can make them non-lethal, heavy with stopping power. They can break up under the sub-cutaneous tissue-“

Again, you ran into Natasha. Her body was so warm and solid, stable compared to the way you buzzed about. The door had slid shut behind you, its frosted glass exterior shielding you from the rest of the world.

This time you didn’t’ rush to apologize, instead you pushed your glasses up to the center of your nose and stared at her in a comfortable silence. “This wasn’t about your widow bites. You said us.”

She nodded at you, suddenly seeming quite shy herself. You’d never seen her avert her gaze before and something about the reaction worried you. Your stomach was doing somersaults, flipping back and forth between pure panic and excitement. This was the longest you two had spent in one another’s space without you bolting from the room.

“For the past six months I’ve been involved in a sexual relationship with Wanda Maximoff.”

“Uh,”

It was the only word that you could muster. Thoughts that flushed your cheeks all over again ran through your mind; bare breasts pressed against each other, lips hungrily clashing, hands raking up perfectly toned muscles. Your eyes were hazy with lust, but you blinked it away just as fast as it had settled. Natasha ghosted a smirk regardless.

“It was purely sexual, we both needed to blow off some steam. I’m sure you know how that is.”

On nights when you needed to ‘blow off steam’, you went into the empty training room and ran for six miles before taking a stark cold shower to loosen your muscles. When you ran, you forgot about the dip of Natasha’s collarbone and the dexterity of Wanda’s fingers.

Now that you thought about it, there were signs that the two of them had something and why shouldn’t they? Subtle touches that led to more. The tenderness in Natasha’s eyes betrayed more. If she hadn’t noticed yet, you weren’t going to be the one to tell her.

“It was fun for a while, a supply closet here, the gym floor there. But going on month seven it’s almost losing its… spark.”

“I’m sorry?” You were cautious with your words, and she giggled, the Black Widow herself was giggling at you.

“I’m not so good at this.”

“You’re good at everything.”

She smiled “Wanda insisted that I come and talk to you first because you’re skittish. Moreso around her than me. She was upset when I told her you let me stay the afternoon in here last week, just watching you work.”

Each move you made that day was languid. There was a nervousness to you that seemed to vanish when you could open up the back of a monitor and stare at the innerworkings. You were recruited right out of MIT, and though you had been offered more than one job, you jumped at the idea of working in the Stark tower, living here.

She worked her hand through her hair and sighed “see, not so good at this.”

“What exactly is this?”

Natasha furrowed her brow and a small crease formed between her eyebrows in response. You wanted to reach up and smooth it away with the subtle touch of your thumb. That part wasn’t complicated, not like people usually were.

So, you did just that, you touched the pad of your finger to her soft, warm skin and pressed until the tension started to leave her body. Natasha’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and moved your hand until you cupped her cheek. She sighed into the embrace; eyes closed for more than a single moment.

“I want you, y/n.” She mumbled against the palm of your hand, turning it to the side and delivering a single kiss to the pulse point on your wrist. You were sure that she could feel the quickness in which it thrummed. “So does Wanda.”

You were dizzy, suddenly glad for her hold on you. Months, close to a year, you had spent ducking behind counters and taking the long way back to your dorm. They were both stunning to an intimidating degree, to the point where it devastated you.

“Say something, please” Natasha whispered, voice breaking “I know this is a lot and you can absolutely decline. We can forget this conversation ever happened and you can go back to breaking coffee mugs.”

“No! I mean, no. I don’t want to go back to breaking coffee mugs. I think Clint is running a tab, and Mr. Stark isn’t exactly generous with our salaries.”

A grin spread across Natasha’s face. It was like being wrapped in a warm towel after a long day in the rain. You’d do anything to make her smile. You were in down bad, not that you’d admit it to Bird Boy.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, not trusting your ability to vocalize anything right now. Her lips were on yours, soft and tender. She kissed you slowly, with purpose. The two of you savored the moment, a sigh of extasy escaping you, your arms winding around her shoulders, hers pressing against your spine.

Natasha broke the embrace, staring hazily at you. That cocky smile had turned into a wonderstruck and borderline goofy one. Have you broken the superspy? She’d certainly made you waver. You were effectively rendered silent.

“Oh, sweet girl, how easy it is to fluster you.” Natasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I fear that a certain witch is lurking just close enough for you to open the door.”

It slid open on its own with a dejected beep. You glanced down at the pocket of your lab coat, badge still attached. A small pout made its way to your lips but softened when Wanda stalked into the mostly empty lab, you felt your defenses lower.

The remnants of red twirled around her fingers- and god, you didn’t mean to stare, but they held a power to them. With Natasha slotted against your body, the primal scent of her, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Oh, how good they’d feel on your tongue.

A pink blush crept up her collarbone and at the tips of her ears. Wanda raised a perfectly sculpted brow at you. There was no doubt in your mind that your thoughts were loud enough for her to hear them. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit. You’d never imagine being this bold with either of them, but the kiss with Natasha had left you heady, greedy for more.

“Have you been able to do that the whole time?” You panted out, watching the door slide shut once more.

“Well, yes. But I respect your privacy… to an extent. You have quite the dirty mind, don’t you?”

“I… you… no!”

You pulled away from Natasha, crossing your arms over your chest. If you weren’t careful, your glasses would fog up just by being in the same vicinity as them both. Sure, there had been a few times where you’d let your mind wander; images of Wanda shoving you against the wall, pinning your arms above your head.

Natasha taking you over the lab table that you made sure was meticulous in every single way each night before you left. The thought of them taking control was alluring, tantalizing. You thought all the time, too much about every move you made. You didn’t want to admit that you’d welcome not thinking at all, even if it was only for a few moments.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Wanda soothed.

“That’s why Stark keeps me in the basement.”

She’d gotten impossibly close. You could smell the lavender shampoo that often accompanied her. They were both taller than you, though, not by much. Your breath still hitched in your throat at her proximity. Wanda tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, lilting her head to the side in a way that made your knees feel unstable.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, and a smile moved across her lips. “You need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Wanda.” Natasha wrapped her arms around your midsection, resting her chin against your shoulder. You felt the incredible warmth she provided, nearly sighing into it. “This is a lot to take in. Baby steps.”

You couldn’t tell which of the two held more control over the situation, but didn’t much care when you felt Wanda’s breath hot against your lips. She closed the distance and you kissed until it stung, until your lungs were begging for air. A desperate noise that you had never made before escaped you when she broke the embrace.

All the while, the calloused pads of Natasha’s fingers were running softly over the expanse of skin between your waistband and shirt. Her touch was so delicate and impossibly warm compared to the coolness of the lab.

Natasha hugged you closer, and you allowed her to. Everything about both women surrounding you screamed control. The darkness that settled over Wanda’s stare made a wetness pool between your thighs. You squeezed them together in an attempt of subtly.

It was like fooling a seer. They could read your body like an open book and you clenched your eyes shut but could still feel the grin that stretched across Natasha’s face in the crook of your neck. It would be so easy to give up control to them.

“Does anyone else have the key to your lab?” Wanda purred, her hand splayed on your chest in a startling grounding motion. Your eyes snapped open, hazy with lust.

You were breathless, stunned. “Just you.”

Wanda’s head tilted, her tongue darting out against her bottom lip. Chills pushed down your spine, Natasha’s hold tightening around your center. You were sure that you’d catch flame right there and wake up from this dream. But neither of them vanished when you blinked.

“Good. What’s your safe word, darling?”

Natasha’s grin was nothing short of wolfish. She squeezed both of your hips possessively, hauling you with a spy’s quickness onto the nearest counter. You nudged a white mug with a SHIELD logo on the front. It fell to the floor, shattered into a million different pieces.

None of that seemed to matter.

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff #Wanda Maximoff x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x you #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Wandanat x you #Wandanat x y/n

785 notes · View notes

gojos-fr-bae · 7 months ago

Text

BET

Pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader (pls lmk if I messed something up)

Warnings: Angst to fluff. Cussing. Bakugo kinds ooc idk really but pls lmk if I missed something

Word Count: 883

A/N: Tee-hee~~, didn't see this coming did ya?

(Requests open)

You were walking through the dorms looking for your boyfriend Bakugou, you two were supposed to go out and watch a movie. Walking through the halls, you heard his voice booming from Kaminari’s room, the door slightly ajar. You placed your hand on the doorknob with the intention of opening it when you heard your name being mentioned.

“So, how are things going with you and y/n huh? Someone asked, though from his voice you could tell it was probably Kirishima.

“That’s none of your fucking business stupid hair. And sparky! WHERE’S MY FUCKING MONEY! The deal was that I date them and you all pay me 1k!!” Bakugou shouted at Kaminari

“Oh come on, you’re still on that? That was so long ago?”

“A BET’S A FUCKING BET YOU IDIOT, I’M DATING Y/N AREN’T I? SO FUCKING GIVE ME MY MONEY! A BET’S A BET!”

“I was a bet?” you whispered softly, and yet still loudly enough for the three guys in the room to hear. They all looked up at you with mortified expressions.

“Fuck y/n-”Bakugou tried to speak up but you cut him off.

“Is that all I was to you?!! A FUCKING BET!?” It all made sense now. Bakugou had always so harsh to you and you always just assumed that it was his personality, but no. Of course not.

“Y/N please, hear me out-”

“No! FUCK NO!, WHY SHOULD I?! Bakugou did this past year mean nothing to you?! EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH! IT MEANS NOTHING HUH?! FUCK YOU KATSUKI BAKUGOU! FUCK YOU!””

Tears were streaming endlessly down your face as you turned around and ran to your dorm room. You could hear Bakugou running behind you but you didn’t care, slamming the door in his face.

He began to bang on your door, calling out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You ran to your bed, buried your head in your pillow and cried your guts out. You really loved him. You really, truly did.And you thought he loved you too, but it looks like you were wrong.

It's been a day and your phone has been blowing up with texts and missed calls from your worried friends and now ex boyfriend.

BAKUGOU

5:43 pm

Baby

Baby please listen to me

11:24 pm

I promise I can explain

Please just listen to me

I love you, I promise you weren't just a bet

Please Y/N, Please!

2:23 am

My love just talk to me, I can explain

Littered in between those texts were over 20 missed calls. He had filled your voicemail with begs and professions of love but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen anymore.

Just as you were shutting your phone off, you were met with frantic knocking. You were about to shout at Bakugou to go away when you were meant with the voices of his two best friends.

“ Y/N, It’s Kaminari and Kirishima, please open the door, we have something to say.” Kaminari said softly through the door.

“GO AWAY!” You shouted back, voice hoarse from all the crying.

“Y/N Please, just let us talk to you and then you can do whatever you want. We just want to fix our mistake.”

You sighed, dragging yourself and opened the door, ready to go off on them, but were silenced by the distress on their faces. They quickly made their way into your room and you closed the door behind them.

“Please make it quick” you said in annoyance, as they began to ramble back and forth

“Ok, please just hear us out.” Kirishima started.

“So, like a while back, Bakugou had a HUGE crush on you.”

“So we made a bet with him”

“We told him to ask and we’ll pay him” okay, now they are losing you..

“Guys wha-”

“Listen, listen, listen, we didn’t do it to embarrass you.”

“We did it because we knew he wouldn’t have the balls to ask you out otherwise.”

“But he loves you Y/N, Bakugou FUCKING loves you.”

“Things only got messed up because of the bet we made with him.”

“Right now he’s a fucking mess”

“He was crying for hours and now he’s not talking, eating…”

“He locked us out of his dorm and isn’t talking to anyone.”

You didn’t let them finish their rant and ran to Katsuki’s drom.You started to knock but were met with silence.

“Suki, please open the door.” You heard a bunch of rustling and the door swung open violently.

Your heart broke as you looked at Bakugou. His hair was a mess and his eyes were red and swollen from all the crying.

You leapt into his hands and hugged him tight. He wrapped his hand around you and cried. He kept on muttering apologies over and over again. It was going to be okay, you two will be okay.

BONUS!!:

You two were laying in his bed as he rested his head on your chest, listening to your heart beat.

“So…you had a crush on me~~” you asked him

“If you don’t shut up right now I will fucking murder you.” he whispered, before snuggling deeper into you.”

“Sure honey, you do that.”

He was absolutely killing those two idiots.

Hiiiiiii~~ So I tried sum newww, let me know how you feel abt it. also, is it Bakugou or Bakugo because every time I pu Bakugo it auto corrects to Bakugou

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo fluff #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou angst

496 notes · View notes

bloodibambiidoll · 1 year ago

Text

Beer and Bunny’s

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Eddie can’t seem to get himself to make a move on the new bartender at the hideout he has a crush on, but one night you decide to take matters into your own hands and he sees something that he just can’t resist. Wk:4.5K

Warnings: 18+MINDI Smut (unprotected P in V), Oral (M & F), Eddie being a lil pervy but reader is into it, kind of inexperienced!Eddie (he’s really nervous and has a lot of self doubt. My head canon for this Eddie is that he’s been with a few girls but none of them were interested in more than a one night stand), no use of Y/N so pet names, and I think that’s it? The smut is kinda soft n sweet, nothing too crazy. Lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So I was running errands wearing my black mini skirt and my pink bunny panties the other day and this idea came to me. It’s super self indulgent tbh, but in my mind Eddie would lose his shit over something like this and I’ll die on that hill. 🫡 Also I usually read through my shit obsessively but I only read through this once so if you see mistakes, no you didn’t. (Not really tho pls tell me so I can fix them bc typos make me crazy) My Masterlist

Eddie was in a trance, playing his guitar on autopilot as he watched you bus tables, make drinks, and occasionally indulge a customer’s flirting for extra tips. Not that you needed to, that dress and your sweet smile was enough to have any man dumping his wallet out and emptying his bank account for you. Or maybe that was just him.

He knew it wasn’t though, because even though his band was up there putting their hearts into playing for 15 people tops, most of their eyes followed you. Granted it was mostly drunk middle aged men besides Ruth, a 60 something year old woman who was always sitting in the same stool at the bar, drinking the same cheap vodka, with her red lipstick smudged on her teeth. But still, he’s convinced even if the room was filled with a hundred women you’d still be the prettiest one there.

You started working at the hideout a few months ago when you moved to town and ever since then it was like Eddie was possessed by you. He thought about you constantly, the way those cut up band tees always fit so perfectly and how your ass always looked in those tight little skirts has him fisting his cock sometimes twice a night. He wanted to record the way your voice sounded saying his name when you’d bring him his favorite beer after a show without him even asking and play it on a loop over and over again.

But that wasn’t all, he thought about little things like holding your hand, or going to the drive-in and watching horror movies with you. Or just kissing you, god, he wanted to kiss your pretty glossed lips.

The only issue was every time you talked to him it was like his brain turned to mush and everything he had practiced to say disappeared from his mind.

Tonight was different though. After their last song when you came to bring him his beer, you gave him that sweet smile and told him how awesome they did like you always do. But then it happened. You accidentally walked backwards into one of the small amps, tipping it backwards.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry, shit!” You apologized before turning around to pick it up and when you did Eddie felt like he was about to cum in his pants.

You were wearing this tight little faux leather mini dress with a zipper that went all the way down the middle and these sexy calf high combat boots. But when you bent over he saw you were wearing the cutest pink panties that had little bunnies printed all over them and something about that combination made him absolutely feral.

He heard a whistle behind him and when he snapped his head around to see where it came from he saw one of the guys sitting at the table closest to the stage practically licking his lips while he ogled you. He instantly felt possessive and moved closer so he was standing a few inches behind you, blocking you from everyone else.

You pulled the amp up with a huff before turning around and nearly jumping out of your skin when you realized how close he was.

“Holy shit! You scared me!” You brought your hand to your chest and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

“Y-yeah I’m sorry, when you bent over, you could uh- see your panties and um… people were looking.” He turned beet red and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re so sweet Eddie, protecting my modesty.” You placed a hand on his forearm and caressed it with your thumb a few times before you stepped close enough to him to whisper in his ear. “Were you looking too?” You pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes through your lashes.

“I- I mean- fuck.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t have you were just standing right in front of me and then that guy whistled and-“

“Eddie!!” You squeezed his arm gently to get him to look at you and when he did you just wanted to kiss him. Those big brown eyes all filled with a mixture of lust and guilt were driving you crazy. “It’s okay… I want you to look.”

He’s pretty sure his brain just short circuited, you want him to look? What does that mean?

“I- you want me to- really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You think I dress like this every time I work? Nope. Only on Tuesdays… just for you, Eds.”

“Shit. Really?” He looked at you in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the girl he’s been dreaming about is really standing here in a sexy little dress telling him that she wore it for him.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip. “I like how you look at me, it makes me… So. Wet.”

He threw his head back and groaned, he never thought you’d be so forward like this.

But he didn’t know that you had been waiting for him to make a move on you for weeks. You were tired of dancing around your obvious attraction to one another so you decided tonight you were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Shit sweetheart. You can’t just say things like that to me in public. You’re seriously going to make me bust in my pants. ”

“Well… don’t do that.” You giggled. “I know somewhere better that you can cum though…” You ran your hand down his arm and linked your hands together causing him to shiver. God, he was so responsive, you knew he liked you but apparently you didn’t know just how much.

“Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a van, right? What’s the back like? Maybe you can show me.” You winked at him.

“Shit, yeah, I’d love to. But I have to put all this shit in the back and take it back to Gareth’s garage.” He looked so disappointed you just wanted to kiss his pouty pink lips.

“Hmmm… well, I live down the street. What if you drop off your stuff and meet me at my place after?” You suggested.

“GARETH! Take my van to your house, I’ll come get it later.” He turned to his drummer and threw him his keys.

“Dude. Seriously? You’re just going to leave us to pack up all this shit?”

His other band mate, who you think is named Jeff, looked between you and Eddie and put two and two together pretty quickly.

“We’ve got it man, have fun!” He wiggled his eyebrows at him before going back to packing up their equipment.

“Well, it looks like I’m all yours.” Eddie smiled at you nervously. God, he was just too cute.

“Looks like it, cutie. I’m off now, just gotta clock out. I usually walk so if you just wanna wait outside I’ll be right there.” You got on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before jumping off the stage and walking toward the back of the bar, making sure to swing your hips extra for him.

•

The walk back to your apartment was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances, hands grazing but not quite grasping onto each other. The air heavy with the tension of what was to come.

“This is me!” You gesture towards the front door of your apartment before unlocking it and letting him inside.

Eddie looked around as you turned on some lights, he saw some cool posters on the walls and a large bookshelf in the corner. But before he could take in too much of your world you walked over to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” You smiled at him with a glint in your eye.

“Hey.” He returned your smile with a crooked smirk, bringing his hands to rest on your hips.

You brought one of your hands to his jaw, cupping it and running your thumb along his cheek. “I really really want to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t respond, instead he pulled you closer by the hips and smashed his lips against yours. His lips felt just as you imagined, pillowy soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He tasted like the beer you gave him, the cigarette he smoked on the walk, and something that was just him. You moaned into the kiss, shoving your hands into his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned when you licked along his bottom lip, allowing you access. He kissed you until your knees were weak and you were both breathless.

“You are so beautiful. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m here right now. This feels like a dream.” He ran his hands up your sides over your dress. “Also this fucking dress… Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah? You like it? It’s new.” You took a step back so you could do a twirl for him. “I thought about you when I bought it, you know…” you brought your finger to the o-ring at the top of the zipper and tugged on it a little.

“I thought about you dragging me to the dingy bar bathroom, shoving me up against the wall and ripping it off me.”

“Holy. Fuck. You’re naughty, huh?” He chuckled.

“Maybe, wanna find out?” You grab his hand and start walking backwards toward your bedroom, dragging him with you.

You plop down on your bed to take your boots off but before you can reach for the laces Eddie walks forward and takes your foot in his hand, unlacing your shoes for you. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them both off your feet and he’s pretty sure you aren’t real at this point.

Your socks are the same pink as your panties with cute little bunny ears at the top of the ankles. Your socks match your panties.

“Yeah, you like these too?” You wiggled your toes in front of his face and giggled while he looked at you and froze, his face turning bright red.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did. Wanna know if my bra matches too?” You sit back on your hands and stick your chest out.

“Hell yeah I do.” He nodded dumbly.

“Why don’t you take my dress off and find out then, pretty boy.”

He didn’t hesitate to lean down and slip his finger into the o-ring zipper of your dress, slowly beginning to slide it down. When the tops of your breasts were exposed it became more and more clear that your bra didn’t match your panties because you weren’t fucking wearing one. He pulled the zipper down until it was just under the bottom of your tits and just as he thought, no bra. Your chest was on full display, slightly glistening with sweat from the material of your dress and he wanted to lick it off.

“Fuck, look at you… prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” Not that he’d seen many but he’s pretty sure these are the best tits in the world regardless.

“You can touch them Eddie, I want you to.” You brought your hands up to squeeze them a few times before grabbing onto your nipples and twisting.

“Hold on, I’m appreciating the art before I destroy it.” He grabbed back onto your zipper and pulled it the rest of the way down so your dress was hanging open. You let the straps fall down your arms, leaving you in just those little panties and socks and he had never seen anything sexier. Your hair was a bit disheveled but still in the style you had done it in before you left for work earlier that night and your slightly smudged dark eye make-up contrasted with the soft pink of your garments. You stand up in front of him and play with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Take this off? I wanna see you too.”

He reaches behind his back to pull his shirt over his head and god damn. He has a few tattoos littered across his pale chest, his skin mostly smooth aside from his happy trail that you wanted to nuzzle your nose into on your way down to his cock.

“Wow. You are so sexy Eds.” You run your nails down his chest and torso, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling his chest against yours. The feeling of your bare nipples pressed up against his warm skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Yeah? You think so? I think you’re the sexiest girl in the world.” He blushed.

“Thank you baby, can I take these off?” You pull on his belt loops with your fingers, running your thumbs along his soft waist.

“Please”

That’s all you needed to hear before you were on your knees in front of him, undoing his pants and pulling them down with his boxers.

“Holy shit Eddie…” Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him fully bare in front of you. “You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to taste it.” And you meant it, his cock was fucking huge, the hard tip leaking just for you.

He was speechless, looking down at you on your knees in front of him with wide eyes.

You lean forward and run your tongue along his slit, holding eye contact with him while you take his tip in your mouth, suckling on it a few times before taking him deep in your throat.

“Oh fuuuuckkk holy shit.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and rested it there gently, letting you set your own pace.

But it was too gentle. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eddie.” You pulled your mouth off him with a pop and a string of saliva. “Use me, pull my hair, fuck my mouth, don’t be shy.”

“Holy shit. Are you- are you sure?” He was panting, looking down at you like you just told him he won the lottery.

“I’m so fucking sure, so so sure. If I don’t like something I’ll tell you baby. I promise, I like it rough.”

You spit in your hand, grabbing onto his cock and tugging it a few times before looking up at him with your tongue out.

He was still looking down at you with those big shiny doe eyes and you were about to lose it if he didn’t do something. Your other hand grabs onto his, guiding it to your hair and signaling for him to grab onto it. It took his mind a second to catch up but when he did it was like something snapped in him.

He grabbed onto your hair hard and slid his cock along the length of your tongue, hitting the back of your throat.

“Close your mouth- yeah, like that.” Once your lips were wrapped around him he started to slowly rock back and forth in your mouth, testing you by going deeper with each thrust.

After a few times of him hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag he realized you liked it. Your eyes were watery, mascara starting to run down your cheeks, drool was dripping down your chin and you were fucking moaning around him like you were getting as much pleasure out of this as he was.

He was fully fucking your mouth now, pumping his cock down your throat while he cursed and moaned, using you just like you wanted. You reach your hand up to grab onto his drool slick balls and take them in your palm causing him to jerk forward and let out the sexiest moan yet.

“FUCKING SHIT!” He used your hair to pull you off of him and you look up at him with hooded eyes, a mixture of his precum and your drool dripping down your chin and he has to physically will himself not to cum at the sight. “ If you keep that up I’m going to cum in the next thirty seconds and I was really hoping I’d get to fuck you.”

“What? You don’t wanna cum twice? We have all night, unless you’re busy then I guess you can stop.” You said dramatically, in a way that he would’ve stopped to find really cute if he wasn’t so fucking turned on right now.

He practically growled as he grabbed back onto your hair and resumed his assault on your throat. One of your hands finds its way back to his balls while the other snakes around him to grab a handful of his ass for leverage.

“F-fuck this mouth is so fuckin- You’re such a good girl fuckin droolin all over, grabbin my balls while I use your little mouth. Wearing those little fuckin panties and socks. Fuck!” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips sputtered as you felt him explode in your mouth. You swallowed around him, moaning at his taste and taking all that he gave you.

He released his hold on your hair and you pulled your mouth off of him, bringing your pointer finger to the corner of your mouth to swipe the cum that dripped there into your mouth.

“Mmmm, you taste so good Eddie.” You smiled up at him, still on your knees.

“Yeah? I bet you taste even better.”

“Wanna find out?” You smirked at him, getting to your feet and laying back on the bed.

“Fuuuuuck” Eddie groaned at the sight of you laying there for him with your legs spread, a very prominent wet patch in those fucking panties, your hands grabbing on to your tits while your fingers pinch your nipples. You looked like the only meal he wanted to eat for the rest of his life. He got on the bed on his knees between your legs, smashing his lips to yours and kissing you like his life depended on it. He slid his tongue along your bottom lip and you immediately granted him access. He tasted himself on your tongue and it caused him to moan into the kiss.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck, running his tongue along the column of your throat, stopping just behind your ear at your pulse point to suck a mark there. He kissed and licked and sucked all the way down your body, stopping to pay your nipples extra attention.

When he reached the band of your panties he licked across your waist and nipped at your hips causing you to let out breathy little moans. He placed a kiss on each of your hip bones before placing one right on the top of your mound, looking up at you with those fucking eyes.

“Mmm baby, I can smell you.” He groaned as he breathed in your scent, flicking his tongue out to run it along your cloth covered slit, adding extra pressure to your clit. He wraps his lips around your bud, swirling his tongue, and even with the small barrier between you it still makes you see stars. He licks all around your cunt, soaking your already wet underwear as he laps at it. Finally he brings his finger to your panties to move them to the side and you barely even have time to process before he’s shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out.

“Oh f-fuck! Yes Eddie fuck!” Your hands come down and tangle into his hair, tugging it and causing him to groan into your pussy, the vibrations going through you like a shockwave.

His tongue came back up your bud, rotating between rough and soft flicks. His pointer and ring finger circle your hole before he inserts them both fully without resistance. He pumps them in and out of you, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and wetness as he laps at you. He sucks harder on your clit just as he curls his fingers just right and you see stars. Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips rocked against his face, his name on your lips like a prayer, riding out your high until it becomes too much and you’re pushing his head off of you.

He looks up at you with your jucies still running down his chin and fucking smiles.

“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah? And have you tasted a lot of pussys, Mr. Munson?” You tease.

“I mean-“ Suddenly his face flushes red and that shy nervous boy from earlier was back “Not… that many, a few. I’m no lady killer or anything I mean you know this town is I-“

You grab his face in both of your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Honey, I was just teasing, I don’t care how many girls you’ve been with, I wouldn't even care if you hadn’t been with any.”

You smiled at him sweetly, pushing his bangs off his forehead and he smiled back, kissing you deeply. There was something so comforting about you to him, he felt like he could truly be himself with you and he’s not sure he’s felt that when he was with a woman ever.

You sit up and push him down by his shoulders, swinging your leg over to straddle him. Your underwear were still pushed to the side, your slick pussy lips were nestled on either side of his shaft as you slid back and forth on him with ease.

“I can’t wait to feel this pretty cock splitting me open.” You leaned forward and slid your fingers in the band of your underwear to take them off but Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stopping you.

“Can you keep them on?” His eyes were pleading, his lips pouty.

“Anything for you, sweet boy. You really like these huh?” You giggled.

“The whole cute pink panties and socks underneath the black leather thing is really doing it for me, if you couldn’t tell.” He bit his lip, running his hands down your sides before bringing them to your tits to squeeze them roughly.

You giggled as you rose up to your knees, taking him in your hand so you could line him up with your entrance and sink down on him slowly. Once your hips were flush against his you both moaned loudly.

“Fuck, so big, filling me up so good Eds.” You rocked back and forth slightly, just adjusting to the feeling of him so deep inside you. Once you felt adjusted you rose almost all the way off his cock before slamming back down on it causing him to jerk forward and moan out your name.

“Holy fuckin shit, your pussy is suckin me in so good holy fu-fuck, ridin me s-so good baby.” And you were, you were riding him like your life depended on it. “Bouncin on my cock just like those little bunnies on your panties, is that what you are? A lil bunny?”

That snapped something inside you, it was like he said the magic words and nothing else mattered in that moment besides riding his cock, being his little bunny.

You were on your heels now, using his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his cock. Rotating and rolling your hips, the patch of curly brown hair at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

Eddie was in Heaven, he wanted to throw his head back and shut his eyes but he couldn’t tear them off of you. You were bouncing on his cock like a rabbit in heat. A layer of sweat glistened on your body, your hair a mess, there was a bit of drool dripping down your chin and your pussy was swallowing him hole over and over again, you were so wet he could see a milky white ring of your cum on his cock. He was going to cum soon but he absolutely needed you to before he did.

His grip on your hips tightened causing your movements to halt, but before you could even protest he was fucking up into you hard and fast.

“Oh fuuuuck yes, just like that baby, right fuckin there don’t fuckin stop I’m so close.” That’s all Eddie needed to hear, he brought one of his thumbs down to your slick clit and started rubbing fast circles on it while he continued to fuck up into you at a brutal pace.

“Shit, me too bunny, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Inside please Eddie I want you to fill me up.”

“Oh godddd” He let out a guttural groan, throwing his head back while he pumped his cum deep inside of you. The feeling sent you over the edge, coming undone on his cock while he continued to sloppily fuck you both through your highs.

You sighed, and exhaustedly let your body slump over Eddie’s while you both tried to catch your breath.

“Holy. Shit. That was… wow” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your back.

“Yeah, it really was.” You giggled as you rolled off of him, laying on your side next to him and resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He was so pretty, his hair disheveled, his skin flushed and decorated in your nail marks, his lips swollen with your kisses. He smiled at you sweetly, shifting around so he could hold you better, he finally got a glimpse of your room.

He didn’t even really look at it when you walked it, he obviously noticed that you had a black open canopy on your four post bed but what he didn’t notice was the cute stuffed animals that were sitting by your black silk pillows, or the cool ass horror movie posters on the walls that contrasted that completely. You noticed him looking around, his eyes filled with awe, like he was genuinely interested in your world and it warmed your heart.

“I like your room, you really have this whole creepy cute thing down to a science don’t you?” He smiled at you, cradling your jaw in his hand and you leaned into it.

“Mhm, I guess I do.” You returned his smile with your own sleepy one, yawning. “You wanna stay the night? You don’t have to if you don’t want to but-“

“I want to.” Eddie cut you off, it was his turn to reassure you. You had seemed so sure of yourself all night but when it came down to if he was going to leave or not he could tell it made you nervous, like maybe people didn’t usually want to stay with you after and that broke him a little. Who wouldn’t want to stay with you? You’re perfect. To him at least. “I want to stay, and I want to take you to breakfast in the morning. I also would really like to take you on a proper date, if that’s something you’d want to do.”

Your heart swelled, because you did want that, more than he knew.

“I’d love that actually.”

“Good.”

You both giggled and kissed each other sweetly, whispering jokes and sweet nothings into each others ears until sleep peacefully took over.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

groovyfrog420 · 8 months ago

Text

SV Redeemed AU

INTRODUCTION / DISCLAIMER

First things first, these designs for Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla are FAR into the future. Quite literally end game phase of the story, the “they grow old together and live happily ever after”. There's a long way to get there, and while I will write some of my thoughts about their journey, I'm a shitty writer. There's no single thought-out plot, it's just bits and pieces of my thoughts in one place.

I don't think I'd be making a tag or naming this AU anything specific. I'm still calling it an AU because there is a bit of canon divergence, but I don’t have a start-to-finish story. (EDIT: wellp that lasted long. new name is #False-Truth AU because I like the oxymoron. I still don't think I'll do much - maybe a few short comics, which you'll be able to find under that tag on my profile)

Keep in mind that these are just my own interpretations, if you imagine these cookies acting differently, that's ok! This is just my own made-up alternate version

LONG POST UNDER THE CUT - don't say I didn't warn ya

I’ve tried to divide it into sections, so if you are looking for just smth specific / only care about one of the characters, you can skip right to it!

Prepare for the ramblings.

PURE VANILLA'S DESIGN

more relaxed now - doesn’t need to keep up perfect appearances and the image of a hero, so he can lay back a bit more. (messier, less perfectly styled hair - more like his younger years. comfier clothes.)

focusing on herbology - with less power now (why explained below) and trying to not overwork himself, he’s taken to different healing methods, as well as taking on gardening as a hobby

slightly more open eyes - (heavily elaborated on bellow)

different staff - due to being able to use his own eyes more now, as well as staying more on the low, he’d decided to retire the famous staff. Since it’s a flower, it was planted somewhere and allowed to blossom and grow freely - fitting symbolism for a new beginning, I think. The lantern light glowing blue makes it easier on his eyes.

PV STORY BITS

In this AU Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla retire together. I think PV would still like to teach, but would focus more on the medical and practical side of things, like herbs and healing practices. (He’ll leave telling tales about the past to Shadow Milk, though he might throw in his own comments from time to time…) He mostly offers advice and shares every-day methods for protection of different kinds with those who ask, but may take on an apprentice or few to fully pass down his healing knowledge to. He uses magic sparingly now.

This way with not focusing on a variety of subjects and many, many students, he’s able to rest more and doesn’t have to split himself between multiple worries. He can focus properly and give his students more individual attention, to make sure his knowledge will be retained for the future.

Eyes

(don't jump me pls read the footnote)

I've decided to take the closed/covered eyes motif PV has in a bit more symbolic way *. I want to interpret it as PV being blind (=ignorant) to the world around him, choosing to see the world and his own actions in an idealized light, and to look away from anything that doesn't fit that idea. Light sensitivity would be very ironic yet fitting - since his own powers are very light-based, by using them to help others he’d be blindinding/hurting himself in the process...

Over time, he realizes how futile it is. Even if he turns his eyes away from the wrongdoing in the world, from his own mistakes and imperfections, they will still continue to happen. He begins to understand that he has to accept that neither he nor the world is perfect, to stop wallowing over the past and start fixing the present. To keep moving forward and keep working on himself, not hide his imperfections under literal and figurative wraps.

With the help of Shadow Milk, he begins to open his eyes more and more and accept the real truth, no matter how imperfect it is.

*I’m not sure how confirmed it was in canon that he’s blind (from what I’ve seen it was mostly implied, but still). I'm not erasing that - for the sake of this AU, I'd like to say that he has partial issues with sight (including the mentioned light sensitivity), but now he learns to accommodate them rather than ignore them and hurt himself more for the sake of others. No, he doesn't magically gain full sight now, but he's more comfortable, healthier, and more honest about the world around him with all of its imperfections.

Burnout

I believe SM and PV complete each other so perfectly because they can help each other grow in areas where the other is lacking/struggling. With PV, I’d like to focus on burnout, false ideas, and how the pressure he’s constantly under has affected him. He was very much just a normal guy before receiving his Soul Jam. Years beyond a normal cookie’s lifespan of hard work and trying to be the perfect leader, to always ensure the happiness of all his people (whether that be as king or otherwise) are bound to take a toll on anyone. Obviously he'd never admit that, always putting everyone else before his own needs, and he’d likely run himself into the grave. That's where I think Shadow Milk would be helpful - he’d make him realize how unsustainable what he’s doing really is. He wasn’t built for handling immense power for all of eternity, he’s just a single cookie and whether he likes it or not, he can’t save everyone or make every single one of his people happy... Being selfish isn’t entirely wrong, sometimes might even be necessary.

Onto the idea of false truth - Pure Vanilla has a very idealized view of a lot of things and people. He’s trying to see everyone in the best light, but he also holds a high standard for himself - that he must be the ideal, shining and caring hero and a beacon of perfection . Shadow Milk is likely to pick that image apart - probably not in the kindest way, saying that in trying to be perfectly selfless, PV is putting himself on the pedestal above everyone else while still being just a single cookie with limited capabilities. He’d likely call this image egoistical, and while PV would argue that he’s doing it for the good of others (he is helping after all, right?), Shadow Milk wouldn’t be entirely wrong - this way of thinking, that he’s the one who must take care of everyone else, is harmful for both him and the ones he’s trying to protect.

Shadow Milk would show him that truth is relative, that “pure truth” doesn’t exist, for anyone could interpret it differently. That PV isn’t (and doesn't have to be) the perfect blameless hero. That his people aren’t as good or pure as he’d like to give them credit for, but neither are they helpless.

Shadow Milk metaphorically and literally helps him open his eyes - he slowly learns to lay back, to accept the reality and “truth”, whatever it may be, and is no longer blinding and burning himself out by trying to help everyone at once. With a new mindset and outlook of the world, he can allow himself to retire, and leave a calmer, out-of-the-spotlight life.

Retirement

Ok, controversial idea, but I think the ancients will have to one day retire and pass down their SoulJams. Yes, I played Cookie Odyssey, I know how important it is to them, but hear me out. As I said above (which is shown in the game btw, but correct me if I'm wrong), they were just normal cookies before taking on the roles of the Ancient Heros. Cookies with high achievements, yes, but still. They aren’t The Beasts, baked specifically for the purpose of handling the Soul Jams, and even then, The Beasts weren’t perfect. I’m not saying they’re bound to get corrupted like their predecessors did, but I am saying that this role is bound to take a toll on them. Not even just from the perspective of power, even just handling so many responsibilities with running their kingdoms is going to be extremely draining mentally. (Physically likely too, even if they’re said to stay “always young” thanks to the Soul Jams - many stories teach that you can’t mess with nature and that nothing lasts forever...)

I don’t know who they’d pass the Soul Jams along too - whether that’d be Gingerbrave and his friends, or a new batch of heroes, that is to be decided. The point is, they have served their purpose, they have (from the perspective of this AU) defeated Dark Enchantress, and deserve to now leave the rest of their lives in peace.

SHADOW MILK'S DESIGN

“mellowed out” a bit - continues to be eccentric and dramatic, but less manic

still unsettling - most level-headed cookies upon meeting him immediately get a feeling that there's something.. off about him, even if they can't put their finger on it. (I purposefully left some of his corrupted design elements or callbacks to them, like the marking over his eye, for that reason)

vibrant, colorful, very extra in both behavior and looks, everything he does he does with drama and flourish

quiets down when out of the eyes of the public, or alone with Pure Vanilla

peacock elements - fitting for someone with such a vibrant personality. also the eye connection is perfect - if you look closely at the feather he's wearing, you might even notice a familiar symbol in its “eye”

a playful bard - (elaborated heavily bellow) - an identity allows him to enjoy his favorite activities, while also being a slight callback to his academic past

SM STORY BITS

The bard

While spending more time with Pure Vanilla, PV encouraged him to pursue his creative interests. Partly to have smth to get SM’s mind off of causing chaos, and partly because they let him indulge and express himself without causing any serious damage. Now he’s joined PV in retirement, though still not fully stepping down from the stage.

Being a bard allows Shadow Milk to indulge in everything he likes most: being the center of attention, dramatics, theatrics, mischief, a tasteful dose of lies and half-truths, but also, in a way, calling back to his past self: for while a lot of his stories are made-up tales, he can also share the history of Earthbread that he’s witnessed. Yes, he may do so through over-dramatic performances or behind caricatural characters, but every tale holds a grain of truth, does it not? Whether his audience chooses to believe him or not is their choice to make.

Referencing the fact that a big part of human history survived through word of mouth, and how storytellers play an important role in preserving it, I think it’s only fitting to make him a bard.

About visual choices

I made his redeemed design less chaotic and asymmetrical, but still vibrant and based mostly on his current color palette, rather than the one from Blueberry Academy. That's because while he may be rediscovering his interests from the past, he’s not the person he was before corruption and never will be again. Instead, he too is learning to rediscover the world in a new light, with a new identity.

Visually I’ve tried to keep some elements from his current design, if slightly toned down: a wide collar, puffy sleeves, a flowy cape. Elements of his corruption are also still there: different colored sclera (= his one eye being black), the sharp teeth. He may have settled down and calmed down slightly, but he remains as playful as ever :))

He still causes local chaos once in a while or resorts to pranking unsuspecting cookies nearby (the slight charring at the bottom of PV’s robe is a result of one of such pranks getting out of hand), and PV has accepted that he'll never be a calm, put-together cookie he once might have been. However, SM's learned to not be a danger to others for the sake of the one he cares about the most, and that's enough for the both of them.

And that's all for now! If you've managed to get this far, thank you SO much for your patience, I hope you've enjoyed my thoughts and brainworms <3

#funny how this turned into an essay on accident #shadowvanilla #pureshadow #vanilla milkshake #shadow milk #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie run kingdom #shadow milk crk #pure vanilla #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #shadow milk au #cookie run au #blorbo-time #False-Truth AU

208 notes · View notes

taintedcigs · 1 year ago

Text

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER THREE: I’LL SWIM DOWN, WOULD YOU?

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane. (wc: 6.7k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, fluff!, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, reader is sad but also mad </3, mention of bruises from an ab*sive relationship (in the past)

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — im so glad you guys are liking this series !! feel free to chat with me in the asks and sorry for the cliffhanger >:( also not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! and sorry for the twisted sister slander eddie said it not me!

series masterlist | series playlist

It was late, really fucking late. Something you missed noticing while you were taking your supposed one hour sobbing nap.

Your gaze gravitated toward the window, fingers fluttering to adjust the comfortable, frilly black dress you had casually slipped into moments earlier. But now, it made you feel stupid, like you were trying too hard, your mind was telling you that no matter which pretty dress you chose, he’d never want you.

He wanted her now.

Your attention diverted toward the glove compartment, fighting the urge to yank it open, wishing those The Cure tapes could fall on your lap now.

The uncomfortable silence between the two of you was starting to sink in now, accompanied by the Beastie Boys blasting through Eddie’s speakers. And you knew he was doing it on purpose because he knew you couldn’t resist, automatically making you hum along to it while he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel, the two of you perfectly in sync with the beat, and it shouldn’t bring such a silly smile to your face, but it does.

“So, uh…” He started off, eyes still on the road, he couldn’t afford to look at you, you looked breathtakingly pretty; the soft glow of the dashboard light highlighted your features, and with that goddamn black dress on you, Eddie was sure he was fully enamored by you.

“I’m–I’m sorry about the whole Chrissy thing,” He muttered, gaze avoiding yours. “It just kind of happened, but–she changed, she really changed.”

“She–she told me how sorry she was about the whole Billy thing,” You gulped physically at the name, biting your lips nervously.

It didn’t fucking matter how sorry she was now, Chrissy was supposed to be your friend. You already had a hard time trusting people but you gave Chrissy that chance, you opened your heart to her, and you let her in, but she decided to stomp on it and chewed your trust in the cruelest way possible.

“I would’ve never talked to her if she hadn’t.” He avoided your gaze again.

“Cool… and you gathered that in what? A week?” You muttered angrily.

Eddie fell silent at that, he didn’t know what to say next, he knew he was in the wrong, and he was desperate to fix it now.

“No, no I– just,” he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this, Eddie,” you snapped, head turning towards the view of the window, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line in an attempt to hold the words you wanted to say.

You’re jealous—so incredibly jealous that it seeps through your skin. You wonder if he can tell, if he can see through you like he always did.

“We’re not together,” He muttered embarrassedly. Chrissy seemed nice, but Eddie knew that she wasn’t you. Sure, Chrissy was pretty, but her face couldn’t make the gloomiest person in the world grin like yours did. And she was funny, but she could never make him nearly choke on his drink the way you always did. And he knew she could never, ever make him feel in a way you did.

He was acutely aware of how awful that sounded, but he wasn’t trying to use her in any way; he was just trying to move on, but with you here, it was fucking impossible. You would always be his priority. No matter what happened between the two of you, if you even so much as glanced his way, he'd drop everything and come running. And that’s what scared him, that’s what made him act so unlike him toward you today because it was terrifying how much he truly wanted you.

You glared at him now, a second warning to shut him up, and he was quick to press his lips tight together.

He huffed. “Look, how about we just… start over?” You finally plucked up the courage to face him again. With the warm breeze of summer nights in Hawkins having its full effect as it rustled through the open car windows, you could see his hopeful eyes.

“Let’s just put it all behind us, you know… wipe the slate clean.” Your interest peaked with that; both of you had fucked up already, and if there was any way to survive the next five days with him and not be a burden to both Jonathan and Nancy, this was the perfect solution.

“Because I really don’t want us to have this weirdness over this whole wedding weekend- uhh… five day thing.” Shit. Was he actually reading your mind?

“Me neither.” You agreed in a mumble.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked with that pretty grin stuck on his lips. God, it was infectious, and his hopeful question fluttered your heart, you could feel yourself soften. Maybe this could work.

“So, uh- can we be… civil?” His voice was wavering, visibly nervous.

You could put the whole Chrissy thing behind you for now, couldn’t you? At least until your next inevitable encounter with her. Maybe that was selfish, but you wanted to spend time with him; you wanted him all for yourself, just for a few hours, without any third person meddling their way in, so you nodded furiously.

“Friends?” He offered, his hand extending to shake yours.

And even though that word fucking hurt, that’s all you could afford with him, too. You didn’t want to reopen the old wounds, at least not yet, and you were more than ready to settle for being friends with him for now. If it meant you could talk to him or be near him, you would do anything.

“Friends.” You agreed, hand harshly shaking his as you squinted your eyes jokingly.

“They talked some sense into you, didn’t they?” You squinted.

“Nancy?” You asked with a slight smirk.

“Dustin and Jonathan, actually.”

“Dustin told me I was in the wrong with the whole Chrissy thing,” Eddie muttered as he stole a glance at you before he focused on the road again. You fought hard to shrug off the smug smile on your lips; just the image of both Dustin and Jonathan telling Eddie off filled you with glee. “I swear that little shit is more mature than any of us.” You added.

“Don’t I know it?” He breathed, making you giggle.

“So, where exactly are we headed to? Because I’m tired of seeing trees everywhere, and I’m starting to think you’re going to kidnap me.” You muttered with a narrowed gaze, attempting to ease the tension.

“You can’t tell?” He huffed, a little smile tugging at his lips at your joke.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re getting rusty, sweetheart.” You scoffed at that, eyeing the road quickly so you could tell him off.

Once he passed by Mirkwood, you knew exactly where he was headed. A squeal escaped your lips childishly. “Oh my god!”

The community pool.

The two of you had snuck in at least a hundred times before. Even Chief Hopper had gotten tired of dragging both of your drunk asses off the pool.

He couldn’t help the way his lips fully etched into a grin now, he had missed that genuine smile on your face and that childish squeal.

“Eddie!” You squealed again when he finally neared, mouth stood agape.

“Are we going in?” You asked excitedly. It was boggling your mind how quickly he melted your defenses.

Before letting him nod, you spoke up again. “Ahh, shit! If I had known, I’d put on a bathing suit,” you huffed, causing Eddie to snort lightly.

Your eyes drifted toward his features now; he looked… so happy, and that goddamn grin on his lips—why did he have to be so pretty?

“What?” You muttered, feeling almost shy under his gaze now.

He used to look at you like that a lot, like you meant something to him, like you were the most important thing in his life. And it felt so good to have that back, to see those deep brown eyes glimmer again.

There was another deep pause, as if he were debating whether or not he should let you know how much it truly meant that you were here. How much he had missed you. How much he missed that graceful curve of your lips as it stretched to a sugary smile, missed the way your eyes sparkled childishly when something excited you.

“Nothing… uh- I just... I’m glad that-uhh you’re back,” he muttered, shaking his head, a strand of curly hair falling on his forehead.

He wanted nothing more than to feel just a graze of your touch, he had wanted to wrap his arms around your frame the whole day; he wanted you to sweep his curls off his forehead as you threw him a giggle, that angelic sound filling the space.

And oh, how he missed your presence. He missed the way you filled the space around him, filling him with warmth and making him feel alive. But his thoughts remained unspoken; instead, he settled for a simple, “I missed you.”

He held your gaze, tracing the contours of your face and memorizing every feature; he wanted each and every part of you etched into his brain, just because he didn’t know if you would leave again; he couldn’t handle forgetting your features, not again.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured, voice low when you could barely let the words out. There was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability he only showed through it, and you returned it.

That impalpable silence was interrupted as he shook his head. “Let’s go, before you start getting in your head about getting in the pool with your clothes,” he teased, parking the car before he rushed off to your side.

“M’lady,” He bowed dramatically when he opened the door for you, extending his hand, you took it with a giggle. “Such a gentleman!” You exclaimed, hands shaky when his grazed against yours.

If Nancy and Jonathan could see the two of you now, their heads would probably explode, considering how both of you had been fluctuating between hot and cold the entire day.

“How are we even gonna get in?” You asked with a shrug, trying to keep up with him.

He looked at you like he took offense to your question. “The old way, duh.” He shrugged carelessly, before he led the way.

As you approached the silver metal fence, your heart skipped a beat, it had been so long since you had last done this, and when it loomed before you now, you had to physically gulp. “You scared or somethin’?” Eddie whispered in your ear with a sly grin, making you slightly jump. “N-no,” You muttered.

"Then, do you wanna do the honors, sweetheart?” He asked with a wink, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. With a deep inhale you nodded, placing your hands on the cold, textured metal of the fence. Once you fully braced yourself, Eddie hoisted you with a strong push, you probably would’ve been more anxious if you weren’t distracted by the fact that Eddie’s calloused hands were grazing against your waist.

You cursed at the loss of touch when you made it to the top, and with a disappointed sigh, you swung your leg over the fence, carefully climbing down to the other side.

You watched him almost jump over it with no hesitation, and now you were concerned with how much this had turned you on. Shit, shit, shit. Why did he have to be so fucking attractive in everything he did?

“Jesus Christ, you’d think they would’ve made this more secure by now,” you muttered with a giggle in an attempt to shut up your dirty thoughts about him, hands stretching out to dust your dress off before you followed him toward the pool.

The poolside area was the first thing that caught your attention. Maybe it was the stupid deja-vu but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by everything. The pool lights created a cool ambiance that was kissed by the moonlight cascading on them. Each ripple of the water’s surface carried around the awful scent of sunscreen and chlorine; each sight of this goddamn place took you down memory lane.

“You want one?” Eddie’s voice caught your attention when he plopped into an empty lounge chair, his hand fishing out a poorly rolled joint—which was probably just squished from being in his pocket all day.

You nodded, mind still spiraling from the fact that you were here, with him. “Our spot, remember?” He muttered, hand signaling toward his side so you could sit down next to him.

You hummed in agreement, before you shyly sat down next to him. “Here, let me.” You muttered, pulling the dragon lighter from the pocket of your jacket.

His eyes almost widened again at the sight of that lighter, a tense silence overtook the space while you helped him light the joint sitting on his lips. “Uhh, t-thanks,” He muttered awkwardly.

The two of you basked in that uncomfortable silence before Eddie finally turned toward you. “Is it just me or does this feel fuckin’ awkward again?” He took another long drag from the joint, breathing out before he turned to pass it to you, a nervous look crossing his features.

And it makes you feel comfortable, that nervous breath you were holding in for so long finally slips out. “Thank god, because I thought I was goin’ crazy,” You murmured, happily accepting the joint as you placed it on your lips.

“I-I just… I know a lot of shit happened between us, and I know we can’t fully pretend it never happened, but, this… this feels so nice.” You admit, gaze avoiding him.

“It’s like, we used to have so much fun, we could do all this crazy shit and not give a single fuck. Do you even remember how many times Hopper escorted us out of here?” You asked with a slight smirk.

Eddie bit back on his tongue, he wanted to tell you that it was your fault. Wanted to remind you that the two of you could have been having fun all this time if you hadn’t just left him like that.

But a clean slate is what he promised you, even though it was so fucking hard not to be bitter when he knew how much it hurt, because you had no clue how much you leaving him did a number on him. He had to pick on his own wounds, just so he wouldn’t reopen yours, just so you would talk to him again.

He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “He really hated us, didn’t he?”

“Oh, totally,” You muttered, head falling more toward his direction with a giggle. “Do you remember that time he chased us around here?” You almost gasped at the memory.

“Shit!” He joined in on your laughter; his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “How could I fucking forget?” He coughed out the drag he was holding in.

"His stupid hat fell in the water," He recalled with a mischievous glint in his eyes, you giggled again leaning in closer, shoulders brushed against his, and both of your chuckles intertwined now. Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke up again "and he tried to get it. And then, oh my god..." You paused for dramatic effect, biting your lip to hold back more laughter.

"He slipped," he continued, with another chuckle, "face first into the pool!" Your laughter erupted louder as the memory replayed in your minds. And it felt so nice to have that genuine bond again. It gave you this sort of hope that whatever the two of you had, maybe it could withstand you leaving him; maybe it could withstand Chrissy, and the time and distance spent apart.

And you so wanted to believe it, because this had genuinely been the happiest the two of you had ever been in the last five years.

Once both of your laughter died off, you took a deep breath, hand reaching out for the joint as you tapped on his fingers to pass it to you. You sucked on it until it numbed your mind, causing you to break the comfortable silence with your train of thought. “I still can’t believe they are getting married,” You breathed.

“Hmmm?” Eddie responded carelessly.

"I mean, I know they're literally like soulmates," you continued, "and I always knew they'd eventually get married. But isn't it too soon? Aren't we still too young for all of this?"

Eddie turned his gaze toward you, looking at you with his brows pinched together. "Why wait?" He asked, curiosity took over his features as he studied your face.

“If you have met the ‘love of your life’ and all that bullshit, and you knew you’d want to spend the rest of your life with them…” You shifted your position, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. “Wouldn’t you want to do that as soon as possible?”

You considered his words for a moment before you spoke. “But how could anyone be… sure?” A hint of uncertainty was wavering in your tone.

“What if they wake up one day and decide they're not in love anymore? Or they suddenly want completely different things in life? Or, oh god, what if they betray each other?"

His brows pinched together. “Oh, Pinky…” He shook his head.

“What?” You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

“You still do that?” Eddie asked disapprovingly.

“Do what?” You retorted, sounding slightly defensive.

“You don’t trust anyone or anything, just so you don't get hurt,” he muttered.

“You nitpick every single part of something good... always trying to sabotage it because you’d rather ruin it than lose it,” Eddie explained with a concerned look on his face, and you hated it. You hated that he knew you so well, that he knew you by heart.

“I do not do that!” You protested.

“Are you actually gonna tell me you never did that?” He gently prodded, tilting his head slightly as he regarded you with an all-knowing look.

You hesitated, your defenses crumbling just a bit. “Okay, maybe like one time, Munson,” you admitted with a reluctant squint of your eyes.

“You’re so afraid of losing something you love that you refuse to love anything,” He muttered, not realizing his concern had hit a nerve.

“But it doesn’t work like that. Love is not supposed to be that complicated.” He continued with a whisper, your gaze drifting away as you fiddled with your fingers, because he was right.

“Why do you assume being loved by someone would ever be so hard?” Eddie realized he had truly hit a nerve and immediately regretted it. He could see the pain flash in your eyes—that familiar hurt you carried with you. You shook it off—a defense mechanism you had perfected over the years.

You found it too difficult to believe that someone could ever truly love you. And he knew that; he hated that he couldn’t tell you how much he loved every fucking part of you and how much he loved you for being you. You didn’t need to try for him; you didn’t need to do anything. You could just exist, and he’d still love you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when you had left him.

And he knew he couldn’t apologize for his words because you’d just brush it off, you’d just close off on him more and more, and he didn’t want to ruin this in any way.

Desperate to shift the mood, Eddie changed the subject, opting for a game of questions just so he could distract you. By the time the two of you had started passing around the second joint and had gotten over thousands of questions, you were seated near the pool now, knees grazing each other as your feet dangled into the water.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you initiated the next question, “Favorite color?” You asked with a soft giggle.

Eddie responded with a playful tilt of his head, "That has to be the lamest question, ever," he quipped.

You gasped animatedly, pretending to be offended by his comment. "Oh, really?"

"Well then, Munson, do you have a better one up your sleeve?" Your eyes squinted in a playful challenge.

Eddie, puffed out his cheeks as he wrestled with his thoughts to come up with a question. After a moment, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “I’ve got one,” He muttered playfully.

“Saddest song you’ve ever heard?” Eddie inquired.

You let out a groan of mock exasperation, your shoulders slumping dramatically. "Oh, come on! How am I supposed to answer that?"

Eddie leaned back casually on his elbows. "Well, I already have mine," he shrugged.

“Really?” You huffed, “I need like an hour,” You muttered, causing Eddie to give you a look.

“Okay, fine, fine!” You sighed audibly, racking your brain.

“Oh, oh!” You shot up quickly, splashing your feet in the water, when you finally thought of something, “can I name two?” Eddie raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Two? Now you've got my attention, princess." He winked teasingly.

You leaned back on your elbows. "Uhhh… Here Comes a Regular or… Wango Tango."

Eddie couldn't help but snort at the unexpected combination. "What?" he chuckled. “I can understand Here Comes a Regular, but Wango Tango? Really?” He gave you that puzzled look again.

“Okay, okay, before you judge!” You squinted your eyes. “Hear me out, because it has a story.” You said.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” you admitted, noticing Eddie's raised eyebrows and intensified curiosity.

“What? Why?” He questioned. “Because I never told you about this before, and I feel like it’s just gonna drag our mood down,” you murmured, biting your lip nervously, as Eddie’s eagerness peaked further.

“Are you kidding? You absolutely have to tell me now!” Eddie demanded softly.

“I mean, are you sure? It’s just a stupid story, and I don’t even know if it matters now—” You began to waver, failing to notice the intensity of Eddie's interest.

“Pinky, please.” He interrupted with a tilt of his head, his voice filled with an urgency to know. You nodded hesitantly.

"So, uhh, you remember how he used to uhh- drove me and Max to school every week?" He nodded, his muscles tensing as he understood who you were referring to. “I think it was another tough week for him, and we had already been fighting a lot," you began, tone laced with a hint of exasperation.

"I think that’s why he was on the edge again, like he was ready to explode at any moment," you continued, gaze avoiding him and fixed on the shimmering water of the pool. "W-we were in the car, and you- you were driving like two cars in front of us.” Your eyes squinted as you recalled the details animatedly, and Eddie listened curiously, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of emotions.

“I think that like ticked him off or somethin’.” You shrugged, your voice wavering. “He started going on and on about you and he was already mad about us hanging out too much,” you stuttered and Eddie's jaw clenched as he listened, his eyes flashing with anger on your behalf.

“He threw me a look that I knew was nothing but trouble," you huffed with an ironic chuckle, but Eddie's expression remained stern, and you were starting to realize how dumb of a decision telling this story was, but it was too late now.

“So then he, uhh- he started laughing all weirdly and following you, and I could just feel my blood boil, you know?” You went on, your eyes narrowing at the memory.

"I was telling him to stop, uhh, repeatedly, but he just… he just ignored me and sang that stupid song, tapping along to the rhythm.” Your lips curled with disgust at the thought.

“And oh god, Max just sunk into her seat, and that just made me go absolutely insane, Eddie!”

“He was getting so close to you, like so close. And I-I knew you had no clue because I knew how loud you liked listening to your music in Aurora,” you muttered with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood, but Eddie didn’t focus on your joke; he could feel his insides burning with that familiar rage and the need to protect you.

“I don’t- I don’t even know what came over me, and I-I just drove the car off the road." You breathed. “And I know that’s… that’s horrible because Max was there too but I had no other idea and I was scared,” you admitted, biting your lips to hold all of your emotions inside of you as you took a deep breath.

“And I wanted to keep you safe,” you murmured, and Eddie’s heart almost stopped at that. The guilt of you being hurt because of him weighed in on him now. And he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and beat the shit out of that douchebag, again.

“And I just remember that look on Max’s face… that pure terror, and while all of that was happening… fucking Wango Tango was playing.” You couldn’t help the exasperated chuckle that left your lips.

You finally looked up at Eddie again, realizing how much you had unloaded on him. "What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

“H-he did what?” He stuttered in fury; you could see it in the way he scrunched his brows together.

“Shit… I don’t know what I was thinking; I really shouldn’t have told you this when we were having a good time-” You shook your head, sighing. “I just… right before I left Nancy’s, I-I saw that Camaro and that song has been stuck in my mind and it’s the first thing I could think of." You rambled quickly; you had never opened up this much about Billy before, and you were starting to regret it because you didn’t want him to pity you.

“God, I must sound so annoying but I swear I’m not saying any of this to make you pity me or anything-”

“No, no, that’s not it.” He interrupted with a shake of his head. “I would never think that, are you kidding?” His hand sat on your knee for reassurance.

“No… no, I just wish... Why didn’t you just tell me?” He spoke to you in a gentle tone, but you could see his jaw clench.

“I-I don’t know, I was scared, Eddie, and I didn’t want to drag you into my bullshit,” You murmured, gulping when you looked down at his fingertips gently caressing your skin. Your emotions were all over the place, his one touch just calmed you down, all of your worries vanishing in mere seconds.

“Are you kidding?” He asked softly. “I-If I had known, I would’ve done something a lot sooner, Pinky, I used to think he was just a shitty boyfriend, If I had known how he was-I swear, I swear, I would’ve never let him hurt you.” His voice was desperate as he leaned in closer, gaze never leaving yours.

“I should’ve fuckin’ known,” he mumbled under his breath, he wanted to punch himself for not seeing it quicker, not seeing him sucking the light out of you, the way you flinched around him, and, oh god, the random bruises.

He was stupid. So fucking stupid.

“Don’t say that!” You protested. “I was the one who kept it a secret, it’s not your fault, in any way,” you muttered, your thigh grazing against his.

“Eddie, you quite literally saved me,” you whispered, a graceful smile adorning your lips.

His eyes drifted toward you again, gaze locking with yours.

“Look, I don’t give a shit what happens between us, you can always, always tell me anything, okay? Any fucking thing.” Eddie reassured, with a soft tone.

You nodded, the smile that formed on your face was genuine, you really appreciated each of his words. Whatever happened between the two of you didn’t matter—Chrissy, you leaving him in LA, the fight at Nancy's—none of it fucking mattered. Eddie was still here for you, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure you wouldn’t lose him ever again.

"Anything?" you asked, seeking confirmation. Eddie didn't hesitate. He nodded in affirmation, his gaze soft and unwavering. "Anything."

“Oh, good! Because I’ve been dying to let you know how much of a dork you look like in your own band’s shirt,” you said with a slight smirk playing on your face.

Eddie raised his brows gleefully, and a grin overtook his features once again. "Oh, I'm so getting you for that one," he muttered, his fingers quick to graze against your sides. Once you realized what he was up to, you tried to get away, but it was too late.

He started tickling you relentlessly while you squirmed and wriggled under his touch, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

"Okay, wait—stop, stop!" You managed to speak, your voice coming out in gasps as you pleaded for a momentary break. Eddie finally relented, his fingers retreating as you caught your breath.

"You still haven't told me yours!" you exclaimed between your chuckles, trying to catch your breath and eager to distract him from tickling you again.

“Ahh shit,” he muttered with a chuckle. “Now I really don’t want to tell you mine, because it’s gonna sound so petty and childish.”

“Nuh-uh!” You protested. “You absolutely have to after all the shit I told you!” You encouraged.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Leader of the Pack by Twisted Sisters,” he huffed, his face souring.

“What? Why?” You asked with a baffled look.

“Because, I waited for that album for two years, and the moment I listened to that song, I wanted to die.” His hand daggered through his chest dramatically, making you huff.

“A bit dramatic, don't you think?” Your brows pinched together playfully.

“No, I'm serious Pinky. That album was pure garbage, I swear I got teary over it.” You giggled slightly.

“No, but I love that!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up immediately.

“Love what? That awful song?” He asked with a scoff.

“No, you dumbass,” you huffed, rolling your eyes dramatically at him.

“I love that a record can make you feel so many different emotions, you know?” you mused. “Anyone can listen to it, and they can have so many different stories, it’s super fascinating to me.”

Your gaze shifted toward the pool’s rippling water. “That’s one of the things I love about working in a record shop—people have so many different stories and feelings regarding music and it’s just..." You muttered. “I don’t know I think it’s great that just one thing can make everyone feel something different, it’s like a secret language that speaks uniquely to everyone, you know?”

Eddie nodded, leaning closer to you now. “That is kinda… inspiring,” Eddie hummed as he pondered for a minute, and that piqued your curiosity. “Hold on a second,” he said, holding up a finger as you watched him reach into his pocket.

A worn notebook was sprawled on his lap, and once you leaned closer, you realized it was the ‘promise’ notebook. Your eyes widened as you tried to catch a glimpse of what he was scribbling inside. "What are you doing?" you asked, a mischievous giggle escaping your lips, but he playfully blocked your view.

"That's going in the notebook!" he exclaimed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“Nuh-uh,” you disapproved. “That was so lame.” You shook your head embarrassedly.

"No, it was quite touching, actually," Eddie replied with his head still buried in the notebook.

“So you just write down everything like that?” You asked with your head tilted.

“Pretty much,” he shrugged. “I just scribble down anything that feels important to me.” A smile etched on your lips at that.

“And then sometimes, if I’m lucky, and I mean very very lucky, these thousand notes can turn into a song,” he hummed excitedly.

“Can I see them?” You asked with a hopeful look.

“No way!” He chuckled.

“What?” You exclaimed. “I should be like the only person who has access to that!” You huffed with your arms crossed across your chest.

“And why would that be, princess?” He pinched his brows together, teasing you.

“Uh, maybe because I gave you that notebook, asshole?” You retorted animatedly, teasing him back.

He contemplated for a moment before he spoke. “Okay, how about this…” He mocked a thinking face, piquing your curiosity. “You go in the water with me… and I’ll give you a note,” he offered.

Your gaze drifted toward the cold water. You always hated going to the pool without your bathing suit, and he knew that, but you so wanted those notes.

“Just one?” You squinted your gaze.

Eddie sighed dramatically. "Fine, I can give you one paper with notes on both sides," he conceded. You nodded frantically. “Deal!” You exclaimed, holding out your hand for him to shake it.

“But one more thing,” He spoke up again causing you to groan. “You can only read it once you get home,” he mute.

“Fine, is that all of your conditions, Munson?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow. He mocked a thinking face again. “Pretty much, yeah,” he replied with a sly smirk.

“Okay, okay. Then I’ll go in the pool with you.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“Pinky promise?” He asked with a grin, and you rolled your eyes. Elbowing him playfully at his joke “Jerk,” you muttered under your breath.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low. “What?” You inquired.

“Close your eyes so I can pick a note, and put it in your pocket.” He shrugged, and you obliged with a huff.

You could hear him whipping through the notes, cursing as he debated which one he wanted you to see.

“Your eyes still closed?” He asked, his voice still gentle. You nodded with a huff, trying to appear annoyed when your excitement was building with each passing second.

“‘Kay,” he mumbled, and you could feel his hands grazing you as he stuffed the note in the pocket of your jacket.

“You can open them,” he said as soon as he was finished.

“All done?” You muttered, cheeks still embarrassingly heating after you just felt a graze of his touch. He nodded with a grin.

“Now it’s your turn,” he teased, fingers pointing toward the pool.

Giving him an annoyed glare, you sucked in a shuddering breath. You glanced around at the pool again, the illuminating lights created a cosy atmosphere that truly warmed you, but you knew the chilly water would give you a rude awakening.

Your trembling fingers slid your coat off your shoulders, tossing it aside as your feet splashed around the water. It was cold, and you looked back at Eddie with a pout. “We’re going to catch a cold,” you whined.

Eddie huffed in mock annoyance, his impatience evident. "For the love of God, just go in," he exclaimed. You faced the pool again, feet still swishing around in the water. The more time you took, the closer you could feel Eddie’s silhouette behind you, and you knew if you didn’t go in soon, he was going to intervene.

Your fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of your dress as you contemplated your decision once again. But before you could make up your mind, a sudden and unexpected push from Eddie left you in shock. Without warning, you were propelled dramatically into the pool, the water enveloping you with a cold, exhilarating rush. You emerged almost as soon as you fell in, sputtering and laughing, your dress clinging to your body and your hair plastered to your face.

“You asshole! I knew you would do that,” you exclaimed with a chuckle.

You dived in once, fixing your hair after you emerged again. Your head tilting to see that sly smirk on his lips. “Jerk,” you muttered again.

“Oh, you’ll live,” he mocked.

You extended your hand toward him with a pout, and he had a baffled look on his face. “Help me up, please,” you whined, shaking your hand further to convince him, but he could see that mischievous glint in your eyes.

Eddie squinted at you playfully, his head cocked in mock suspicion. “You think I’m fallin’ for that?” Your scoff only elicited a roll of his eyes. “You pushed me in, dumbass! The least you could do is pull me up." You protested, your hand waving in the air, waiting for him to fall into your trap.

“Nah,” he shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips. You continued to whine, your hand still reaching out to him.

“Eddie, I’m serious, it’s super cold, and this dress is suffocating me!” You argued, the slight desperation in your voice making him feel for you. Eddie hesitated for a moment. That soft, innocent look in your eyes and the sweet pout on your lips were more than enough to convince him. If only he weren't as hopelessly infatuated with you, he might have resisted longer.

With a deep sigh, he extended his hand toward yours, taking it in a firm grip. “Fine, but if you try to pull me down, I swear to god-”

Before he could finish his threat, you swiftly pulled him toward you, yanking him off balance and into the water with a resounding splash.

Giggles erupted from your lips. “Too late!” you declared triumphantly, a wide grin adorning your face.

As you watched him resurface, he gave his head a good shake, water droplets flew around as his chuckles filled the air, and he couldn't help but praise you with a playful smirk. “You're good,” he admitted, the characteristic dimples on his cheeks making an appearance. You returned his compliment with a warm smile. “I know.”

Eddie felt dizzy; a flood of feelings hit him all at once when he looked at you again. He tried to divert his eyes away from you—from your smooth skin, from the sweet curve of your lips, from the way your brows pinched together when you giggled so sweetly. But he couldn’t.

Those innocent, big eyes that had a slight bit of mischievous glint in them—the way you fluttered your eyelashes at him whenever you teased him—it was all too fucking much for him.

Don’t look at her, Eddie. He tried to remind himself, but it was useless.

God, you really were beautiful.

He shouldn’t be any closer to you, but he couldn’t fucking help it.

When he swam closer, the laughter in the air had fully died down; there was only tension—so much tension that you could hear your own heart rate picking up.

The water around you seemed to shimmer the closer he got to you, caging you between him and the edge of the pool. You gulped physically when you felt the concrete hit your back; he had you cornered.

Each second stretched into hours now, and all the two of you did was gaze into each other's eyes, speaking a language without any words being spoken.

He couldn’t help it when his gaze drooped down to your glossy lips, they looked so kissable that Eddie was about to lose his mind. You opened your mouth to speak but it was of no use, no words dared to come out of it.

You watched in awe as his hands grazed against your cheek first, then he tucked that one strand of hair behind your ears. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheeks—that same speechless expression on his face that mirrored yours.

Eddie was sure you had this unexplainable, tight hold on his heart. He had never, ever felt so completely possessed by someone before. You completely invaded his mind in a way that he struggled to put into words.

His calloused hands hooked behind your back as he inched you a little bit closer. Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, and your eyes were following his every movement. The second his forehead came to rest against yours, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me.” He whispered all huskily, and you were sure you had never heard him filled with this much desire.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes, standing still and even afraid to let out that gasp you’ve been holding on to for far too long.

Was this all real?

Was he actually going to kiss you?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #rockstar!eddie x reader #getaway car #getaway car series

408 notes · View notes

lunabug2004 · 9 months ago

Text

Why the Troy and Angela Situations Should Not Be Compared (+ Why Mike's Reaction Is Valid)

One of the things that gets my blood boiling as a Mike defender is when people try to compare the bullying/El's reaction to said bullying between the Troy and Angela scenes. They are not the same thing, not even close! Yes, they're both cases of bullying, but two very different levels of extreme.

Yes, I understand that words can hurt just as much, if not more, than a physical weapon, and Mike understands this too, that's why he tries to connect with El the morning after. But in the real world, one without monsters or powers, the one they believe they're living in at the time, violence is almost never the answer, it only makes things worse, as it did. Mike also understand this. Now, yes, it took him a minute to figure out that El didn't quite understand this yet, but he works to fix his mistakes as soon as he does.

Now, let's look at season 1's incident. Troy is threatening to cut Dustin with a knife if Mike doesn't jump off the quarry cliff. Two lives are in immediate and direct danger in this situation. El, literally at the last second, saves Mike as he's falling, so that's one problem fixed and one less life at stake. By this time, yes, Troy has moved away from Dustin, but he is still holding the knife! And then he aggressively steps towards El, threatening her with it, so she snaps his arm and makes him drop it. This is self defense, as well as defending her friends from a dangerous situation.

In season 4, Angela publicly humiliates El. Yes, it's awful, and yes, she deserves the smack that she gets for it, but it's nowhere near as bad as what Troy was doing. Angela isn't putting any lives in immediate danger, she's not brandishing a weapon! Legally, El smacking Angela is assault, because at the point of the roller-scate-smack, the ordeal is done with, and there was no physical harm done. I'd like to add that I'm aware of El falling, and that she may have been hurt, but technically no one touched her, so it still isn't technically self-defense (I may be wrong here, pls correct me if so). This is a very unfortunate situation, and I feel terrible for El, as should everyone, but I'm a firm believer that when it comes to bullies, you shouldn't fight fire with fire, and Mike seems to carry this belief as well, as he repeatedly tells the boys to just ignore their bullies in s1. @foodiewithdahoodie has an old post (can't find it irl, but it's stuck in my brain) in which they say El treats Angela, a normal girl who is not a serious threat, with the same extreme hostility she shows the UD monsters, and I completely agree with this. El is flawed, and Mike's not a bad person for reacting to those flaws, that just happen to include unnecessary violence, the way a normal person would.

Anyways, what I'm getting at here is that these two situations are completely different (again, Troy has a literal weapon, two peoples' lives were being actively threatened!) and Mike's reaction in both circumstances were completely valid! In season one, he was seconds away from death, and so when El saved him and made the threat go away, he was eternally grateful for her defense. In season 4, he tries so hard to get to her when he realizes what's going on despite having just found out she'd been lying to him for months, and he was even completely on El's side, trying to find and comfort her, until she hit Angela, then he believed she went too far (she did), so he made that known. He's never been one to sugarcoat when he disagrees with certain behaviors, and he doesn't start here, he tells it like it is: Angela doesn't look fine. It also is just a lot to process, so it doesn't surprise me that it takes an overnight thought-session for him to figure out where he went wrong, and again, he tries to make it up to her! To connect with her, bringing down some of his walls in the process! She just disregards his experiences, then brings up him not saying ILY, so he gets defensive and puts back up his walls, and they never get to continue this conversation! (This is an analysis for another day in and of itself tbh)

To reiterate, it just irks me when people compare these scenes to try and make Mike out to be a bad person, when they are nowhere near the same situation! His reactions being different makes total sense, esp when adding the shock-factor of it all! I'll stop talking now cuz this could go on forever and I lowkey feel like I'm just repeating myself now.

Pls tell me your thoughts on this!

126 notes · View notes

wonwoosthetic · 7 months ago

Note

Finding something to fight for update coming back anytime soon…? Love this story 💜

a/n: i looooove writing for this series so so so much, thank you for enjoying it so far!! Here I have part 2 of how the reader and Joel met! Yes, there’s not much romance going on (just yet! the next part will be about their first few dates) but a lot have asked for a part 2 and since Joel is a single father who was left by his wife, I can imagine love for a random woman wouldn’t come easy to him ˙ᵕ˙ I still hope you and everyone reading this will enjoy and stay tuned for future chapters! Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking around to see more of their story unfold!🫶🏼

Btw: I changed the name of the series, I hope people won’t be too confused! <3

You’re Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 2

pairing – Joel Miller x female!reader; Tommy Miller x female!reader (platonic!)

word count – 16.2k (don’t even get me started, this is starting to feel like a slow-burn😭)

warnings – fighting, tiniest bit of cursing, bad writing of southern accents (somebody pls teach me)

synopsis – part 2 of this request; slowly but we’re getting there ˙ᵕ˙ the reader and Joel are getting closer🤭

series masterlist

1999

You did, in fact, not find a way to contact him. At least none that wouldn't require you to jump over your shadow and contact Tommy Miller first.

Every afternoon you had to spend in your parents' restaurant mostly consisted of you standing by the counter, and your head shooting up at the sound of the door opening. None of those times had it been either one of the Miller brothers - but each time you had hoped it would be. Praying and pleading that the universe had some last specks of luck left for you. But it seemed like destiny was not on your side at that time. Or maybe it was. How could you possibly know if he was as good as he pretended to be? Maybe the kindness Joel had shown you was just his way of holding up a normal conversation with no ulterior motives after all. Asking you about your future plans and dreams, telling you about his daughter, and driving you home seemed to be just the naturally kind gestures of a Southern gentleman... Or maybe it was just an act and in reality, whoever was up there was saving you from a big mistake before it could even happen.

'I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you.'

Maria's words were once again haunting you. Even with your hopes already slowly vanishing in ever seeing the oldest Miller again. He was a gentleman, no doubt. He had to be... right? There was almost no possible way he had put on a mask before entering that bar. But...

You shook your head. Your best friend might be a good people reader, but she's also well-known for her delusions. It was fun and made life much more exciting, that you had to agree with. Having a campus crush and calling him 'your man' when all he did was thank you and call the essay you wrote a 'great piece of work', was how you kept life interesting. It was easy entertainment. Normally, it was all fun and games, something you could tease each other with, but this was different. Because with Joel, you noticed it too. You may not have noticed the 'looks he gave you', but what man would just 'like to make sure you got home safe'? Or maybe you were potentially just looking too much into it. Maybe Maria had already infected you with her delusions.

'It's a small town, it can't be that hard.'

Well... it seemed to be very hard because it had already been close to a month. And neither of you had found a way or were interested enough to look for one. At some point, you had to get the fantasy of Joel Miller you had made up in your mind out of your head. There was no way a man could possibly occupy such a big part of your brain and control how you'd act at work.

There was only one man in the past who had the same kind of grip on you as Joel Miller now had. And that guy broke your heart when he admitted to cheating on you and getting Chlamydia from the college girl he fucked. Fun times...

Other than that, the topic of boyfriends hadn't ever been more than just plain and simple entertainment for you. You didn't use them. And you never would, because, after all, you were a lover girl at heart. But they just didn't make you nervous. Usually.

You could vividly recall each and every time you managed to make a man bring you to his house and let you spend the night, just as much as the number of times you barked at them to leave you alone in a club. Yes, they were big and scary men, but you were a woman raised by an older sister who inherited the generational trauma from your mother and anger issues from your father. If you didn't want them near you, you wouldn't let them.

Crushes came and went, and the ones that stayed, you were usually able to turn into something as serious as a few fun nights or even take it a little further and turn them into the two relationships you have had in the past. But that was it. 'Chlamydia boy', as Maria had baptized him, was the last one you had let occupy your mind as much as he did.

That was until Joel goddamn Miller, in his 6ft, wide shoulders, itty bitty waist, rough hands, curly hair, shaggy beard, and grungy voice glory, just had to walk into that bar. Now you were daydreaming about a 30-year-old construction worker and single father all while he was probably just enjoying the evenings off-duty he got to spend with his daughter, looking forward to the next parent-teacher conference where the other mothers would be gawking at him and drooling while following him around like lost puppies.

That's how you found yourself. A birthday and a whole month later, in your family's restaurant just like almost every afternoon. You had finished another small exam and were finally able to enjoy the first rays of sunshine that were peeking through the clouds during the colder winter months on the way to work. But even the big windows couldn't even to some extent let you feel the freedom and fresh air from the outside. Sometimes you wondered if you should at some point regret coming back to Texas to help your family.

Back then, you had been ecstatic about the mere thought of moving away, seeing more than what that small town you grew up in had to offer. That's why you decided to study out of state. You started building your life out there. A new life. But one call from your mother, asking you to come back was all it took. You couldn't tell her simply 'no'. Not when she was explaining that your father, due to his age, was advised not to work normal shifts on his legs anymore as they were slowly giving up on him. So, you listened to her. You packed your bags and came back. You found a place of your own and a roommate to share it with. You were accepted into the college you so desperately tried to avoid during the application process back in high school and continued your studies only 30 minutes away from the house you grew up in and the garden you used to play in.

You weren't allowed to regret your decision. Not if it meant helping your parents keep the restaurant alive they had worked their entire life for.

"Where's my daughter?" The frantic voice of your mother made you sigh out loud as you made sure to fix the name tag on the right side of your shirt. "Is she here already?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the kitchen until they stopped in the doorway of the small staffroom.

"I'm here, Mom," you answered her with the slightest hint of annoyance. The simple sound of her stressed-out sound and heavy breathing could get your blood pumping in an instant. She has always been a stressed person - making situations much more hectic than needed.

A heavy huff fell from her lips. "Y'are late," she simply stated.

With a roll of your eyes, you passed her, putting your hair up in a ponytail just like you usually would. "I'm not late, I had an exam. I told you that."

"I guess, I forgot... 'bout that...," she thought out loud. "Anyways," she was quick to change the subject, hot on your tracks, following you up to the counter overlooking the somewhat empty tables. You only could sigh again. "I'll have to leave earlier today. I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes. The doctor gave ya dad a new prescription," she explained. Another new one... was there ever going to not be another medication this man would be put on? The medical bills were already piling up - you remembered the stack of letters addressed to your father you had seen just the day before when you came over for the usual Sunday family dinner.

"Y'are okay with closing? Jimmy might stay with ya if I ask him." Jimmy, the head chef of the kitchen behind you and a long-family friend. He was in his fifties and had a wife and three kids waiting at home for him each night.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I... I think I can clean up by myself, but thanks," sending her a tight smile that got a big grin out of her.

"Great!" She grabbed your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "I'll leave in a bit, alrigh'?" You nodded as an answer, your eyes already on the notes for the day your mother had put on the counter, out of eyesight from customers. And with that, you got to work.

Mondays weren't all that busy, usually. The construction workers from around the area would come in and order their usual big servings that had been keeping the family business going. Some teenagers spent their lunch break by the tables, working on their homework and having a quick meal. Just like every other day.

With a sigh, you pushed through the swinging door, separating the kitchen from the counter area of the restaurant. Three plates filled with the extra portions some of the construction workers asked for balances on your hands and left arm. In moments like this, you were thankful for the low number of customers. You rushed over to bring them their food in a respectful time, getting a round of charming 'thank you's in return, to which you nodded politely.

Just as you were about to get back behind the counter, hoping to find the next thing to focus on until new customers would come in, your eyes found a familiar face, sitting in a booth all by themselves. You smiled to yourself, watching the little kid's head buried in the book in front of them as they frantically continued to write something down with their right hand.

It was the Parker's son, Miles. A young, very bright boy, who was way too mature for his age of only 10. The first time you had seen him in your parent's restaurant, you thought somebody had forgotten him. But no, he just enjoyed the background noises of the diner in the background while doing his schoolwork. He usually showed up a few times a week, would take a seat quietly and not ask for anything unless a waiter or waitress came over to him first.

As you began working part-time, you took on the responsibility of being that exact person. You'd approach him and ask him for his order, adding a free hot chocolate or lemonade to whatever he desired - you paid for it out of your own pocket by the end of the day.

"Well hello, young man," you walked up to the boy with a soft smile on your face. The sound of your voice made him look up, pushing his glasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned at you shyly. It was only then you realised how much you had missed his rosy cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so long. I got worried already," you admitted. It was the truth. You hadn't seen him in a good three weeks, which was very much out of the ordinary. In a small town, you would've expected to hear rumours and chatter about every family, but the Parkers seemed like a mystery to most apparently.

Miles shrugged, his eyes back down to his book. "I'm okay."

The tone of his voice told you otherwise. He wasn't a very expressive kid, to begin with, so the change in his tone stood out.

"Are you sure?" You quietly sat down on the opposite side of the booth. You were in no position to interrogate him, and neither were you the best with children - at least that's what you thought. But you were a good advice giver and could read a room usually pretty well.

It took a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. "Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce."

Oh.

The instability of his family was no secret - your mother had caught you up with everything going on behind their closed doors as she and Miles' grandmother were part of the Saturdays' flea market in town. And that woman had no filter when it came to the 'monster of a husband her daughter had married'.

"I see," you nodded gently. "And... you're okay with that?" It was a stupid question, yes, but how else were you supposed to not just let him sit in misery, the thoughts of his parent's divorce occupying way too much of this little kid's mind.

"I think so, yes." Miles looked at the side of the table, his pencil gliding over a crack in the wood, "Grammy said it's good. And Mommy has been crying less. So... I think I'm happy."

Your heart shattered just hearing his words. No child should ever have to go through something like that.

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to come here anymore." You glanced at him with a slight scrunch in your eyebrows. "But now I live with Mommy and Grammy, and they don't really care where I am after school, so I came back," he sent you an innocent bright smile. His bright face almost sent tears to your eyes.

"They do care where you are Miles," you tried to explain to him, not even knowing if it was the truth, but why should a child even dare to think that the authority figures in his life didn't 'care' about him. "They just... they probably know how happy you are whenever you're here. That's why they let you come over."

You noticed as he tried to avoid your eyes, glancing out the window as he spoke, "But I'm only happy when you're here too," he admitted.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you took a deep breath, about to give him an answer back, wanting to let him know how much brighter your day got whenever you got to see him, but he beat you to it.

"That's Sarah Miller," his finger was pressed up against the glass. "With her dad." Unfazed, he turned his attention back to his notes. "His name's Joel."

"What?" You accidentally muttered out, your head snapping to the window. The black pick-up truck came right into view. The one he brought you home in. Your eyes followed his every move as he opened one of the back doors, helping his daughter out of the car. He held out a hand for her to take, but she ignored it and jumped with a big smile. A whole goddamn month it took for you to finally see his face again. 30 days, if not more. Just as you had been on the verge of forgetting about your encounter with the oldest Miller brother, he suddenly decided to show up. At your family's restaurant out of all places.

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but stare, forgetting about the fact that a window worked both ways. You got lucky as he seemed to not have seen you, passing by and walking over to the front door while Sarah was skipping around the parking space in excitement. The pounding heart in your chest made you gulp.

"How do you know them?" You suddenly asked.

Miles continued to write in his notebook. "Sarah's in my class. She's nice."

"And-"

"I told her about this restaurant. Told her I like you and the food. And the free drink you always bring me," he sent you a quick grin, making you chuckle. The smile vanished quickly though as the sound of the bell above the entrance door rang through the room. To everyone else, it was just another customer coming in, but to you, it was the desperate crush on a 30-year-old man, who had no business occupying your mind as much as he did. There was no time to continue your daydream of finally seeing him again as he and his little one walked further into the restaurant, looking around to see which empty table they'd claim. Joel proposed the one in the corner right next to the door, which Sarah seemed to be okay with after taking another quick glance around the open space. They'd be waiting for someone to come and take their order. And that someone should be you. It had to be you. There was no other waiter on shift for this afternoon.

"I'll be right back," you quickly excused yourself, making Miles glimpse at you in slight confusion at your rushed tone, but the notebook in front of him was much more interesting anyway.

With a few deep breaths, you strutted across the floor, brushing over the apron covering the front of your thighs. You passed the register area to snatch the small notepad you used during your shift before finally making your way over to the duo.

Just before you were close enough to their table to stop, you heard the girl's faint voice mumble, "He said he'd be here." Her head turned upwards to grin at you as soon as you came to a halt, pen and paper in your grip.

"Hey, what can I get for you, guys?" You clicked the back of the bullet point pen.

Joel snapped his head up, his brown eyes staring at you as soon as your voice registered in his head. His lips parted, stopping for a second before he spoke up.

"O-Oh- hey," he sat up straighter.

"Hi," you smiled at him, slapping yourself internally at greeting him a second time when you literally just did that.

"Hey," he nodded, his lips curling up just a bit. "Y/N... right?"

While the name Joel Miller had branded itself onto your brain, he seemed to not even be sure about your first.

You nodded with a tight smile that was close to disappearing, but you had to keep a professional face on, "Yeah- yeah, Y/N," and pointed to yourself like an idiot. His eyes didn't leave your face, almost dragging you in, but you were quick to snap back, the sound of someone clearing the throat to your left catching you off-guard.

"Introduce me, Dad," Sarah tried to whisper, holding her hand to the wrong side of her mouth, where you could still clearly see her lips moving.

"Hm?" Joel's head turned towards her, "Oh- that's... that's Sarah. My daughter."

With a wide grin, the girl reached her hand out to you, which you gladly accepted, shaking it with a similar facial expression.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Y/N." Once she dropped your hand again, her gaze quickly flicked over to her dad, who politely coughed into his elbow. "Do you know my, Dad?" She suddenly wondered.

"I- ehm...," you were quick to open your mouth before you could even come up with a full reply, wanting to kick yourself in the shin.

Thankfully, Joel decided to answer her, "She's a friend of Uncle Tommy."

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening, "You know Uncle Tommy too?" She gazed up at you in amazement, making you chuckle. Calling you a 'friend' was much easier than explaining your relationship with him to a 9-year-old, so you accepted it.

You nodded, "I do. I met him a long time ago." Not a lie.

"Cool," she said out loud, looking down at her intertwined fingers on top of the table. "What do you-"

"Babygirl, you wanted to eat, didn't you?"

The voice of her dad made her lift her head to grin at him, "Can I get pancakes?"

Joel put the menu he was holding down with a soft sigh, but a kind curl to his lips, "You can ask Y/N if you want to."

Quickly, she whipped her head towards you, "Can I have pancakes, please?"

You couldn't hold back a subtle chuckle. "Of course." The fact that pancakes were on your breakfast menu was unimportant. If the girl wanted pancakes, you'd get her her pancakes, even if it was close to 5pm. "And for you?" You turned to the man on your right.

"Can I get a simple turkey sandwich? And a black coffee?"

You nodded, writing down just quick abbreviations to remember their order. "Coffee's free here," you added.

"Oh, great," he commented, putting his hands down on the table, "That's all then."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Joel gave you a nod and a grin, his attention back to his little girl as soon as you turned around and heard her whisper.

"Why do you know so many people?" Making you chuckle.

In the kitchen, you handed over their orders to Jimmy, who glanced at you with a frown, re-reading your handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Pancakes? At 5?"

"Can you do that? It's for a little girl, she's really sweet."

With a wink, he moved over to the stove, "'Course I can, no worries."

You grinned, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Getting a, "No worries, kid," in return.

Just as you were about to leave, you made a stop at the fridge, opening it to get the glass jug of homemade lemonade. Along with three clean glasses from the cabinets right above your head. You filled them up equally before putting the lemonade back and heading out to the counter again, balancing all three on a tray. You didn't expect the man standing right across from you, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey," Joel smiled at.

"Hi," you copied him. Again, feeling the need to slap yourself. How many times have you now said these two words in exchange to each other?

"I...," he started, looking around the empty bar area. His hands glided into the back pockets of his jeans before he locked eyes with you again. "I'm sorry, I... Sarah- she forgot to order a drink. Is it okay if I- can I do that here?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head frantically, putting down the tray, as your eyes landed on the filled-up glasses. "I- I was actually just about to bring two of these over to you guys." Taking them into your grip and lifting them to his eyesight.

"Oh- did she-"

"They're like a... signature thing here. I thought you'd... might want something to drink." You placed them down on the bar top, "On the house."

"Oh no, I can't let-" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"No worries. A little welcome gift," you brushed him off, your fingers slowly digging into the wood below you.

Slightly hesitant, Joel reached out for the two lemonades.

"Gotta keep the customers coming back somehow," you added with a soft chuckle, getting a humourous laugh from him in return.

"Yeah... well..." he turned back to take a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at you, "we might be coming back more often anyways. Sarah got a recommendation from a classmate... and she's been really beggin' me to take her here. And we were in the area, so..."

"Miles, yeah... he- he told me," you nodded along with his storytelling, fidgeting with the dainty bracelet on your wrist - an older Christmas gift from your sister.

Joel raised his eyebrows in interest, "You know him?"

"Yeah," you nudged your head over to the left side of the diner, with the boy in the only occupied booth, "He's sitting over there."

"Aah...," he took a deep breath in, "Gotta make sure to tell Sarah," he mumbled slightly more to himself, but you were still able to catch it.

"Are they friends?"

Joel slightly shrugged his shoulder, "I guess so, yeah... they're both in an advanced Math course for middle schoolers, so... yeah."

"Advanced Math?" You wondered in astonishment. He hadn't told you all too much about her back in the car a few weeks ago, so this was news to you. You knew Miles was in that course, Christ, he had proven it to you many times before whenever you asked if he needed help with his homework, but you didn't know Joel's daughter went the same path. "A little genius."

"Yeah," the older Miller brother chuckled, looking down at his feet, "Kinda like you," he met your eyes. "I mean- not like you... really... because, you know, not... College level, but... she- she's interested in it too. But I- I guess... I don't know if she's really interested in it, but she seems to enjoy it so far, so..."

If your eyes and ears weren't playing with you, you could almost hear a slight added raspiness to his voice as he tried to avoid your gaze, talking on and on about his daughter. The grin making its way onto your lips was only an indication of your amusement at his rambling.

"I understand," you laughed. "Smart girl."

He nodded gently to himself, "That she is... she sure is..."

Your awkward chuckle was followed by a second of silence. Maybe a few seconds, actually. Joel could've excused himself to go back to the booth they chose, but he didn't even move an inch. Not even made an indication that he wanted to leave. Your eyes travelled around the counter, trying to look for something to busy yourself with, but there were no notes left, every other customer (there weren't a lot) seemed to be happy, so there was nowhere to go for you. You were stuck to stand still across from him, forced to bring the conversation to a halt as neither one of you knew what to possibly say next. Not until you went through each line that had spilled from his lips, remembering-

"You said you were in the area? Do you live here... or...?" What a smart move. Ask the stranger if he lived close to where you're working, fucking creep.

Joel cleared his throat, politely holding up a fist to his lips. "No no, she- Sarah... she has soccer practice every Monday 'round here."

"Oh," your eyes lit up, "At the old Ramson's field?" The corners of the man's lips curled up at the mention of the area that was once a strawberry farm. It was sold years ago by an elderly couple, the Ramsoms, to give the kids a place to run around freely. Somebody took the chance and turned it into a local soccer team's training ground.

"Yeah, exactly that. You know it?"

You nodded excitedly, "My sister used to go there. She was really active. Always the sporty one in the family, you know..."

For a second, Joel pursed his lips, smiling to himself before he answered. "So... sister's the sporty one and you're the smart one? Your parents got lucky."

"Well...," you talked down his compliment with a soft chuckle, "I don't know if I'd say I'm the smart one...," thinking about your next words for not longer than a second, "I did get in the car of a basically stranger who took me home while I was definitely intoxicated, so... don't know how smart that really is." Smirking at the mention of the evening.

The older Miller's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why would you do- Oh." Stopping himself before he could continue. He shook his head with a laugh, "Right... yeah..." Just for a second, he had forgotten how truly unfortunate, or maybe not so unfortunate, your first meeting actually had been. "But," he took a deep breath in, "You got home safe. So it was a smart move, I guess."

"I got home very safe, yes," you agreed, a dreamy smile playing on your lips, as you pulled your hands back to yourself, feeling the chipped wood digging into your fingertips. "Thank you, again... really."

"All good," he gave you an assuring nod, "Rather getting in the car of a stranger than hangin' out with Tommy's group of... whatever they are."

You couldn't hold back the laughter coming from your lungs at his clear dislike of his younger brother's group of friends. Already back in the bar, it was clear to tell Joel was not a fan of them or the comments they made or truly anything about them all together, and he seemed to like making that very clear. He joined in your laughter with a slightly softer one, only to be interrupted as a voice from behind you suddenly shouted out.

"Pancakes and a ham sandwich!" Jimmy came through the swinging doors, the two plates in each of his hands as he stood next to you.

You turned to the side, giving him a quick smile.

"Oh- you were quick, thanks."

"I can take 'em," Joel was about to reach out, wanting to take his order, when you stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll bring them over," you assured him. "In a second."

"You sure?" He asked you cautiously.

You nodded, your lips pressed together tightly. "A girl's gotta work," you shrugged with a smile.

Joel gave you a quick nod before taking the two glasses of lemonade and going back to his table, the eyes of the little girl waiting for him getting big as she saw what he had brought along. You grinned at the sight.

"Y'sure you wanted to make the girl happy or the dad?" The old man's voice rang through your ear. Your head snapped towards him, taking a step in defence back.

"'Xcuse me?"

Jimmy shook his head in amusement, putting down the two plates of food. "I was in there tryin' to avoid interruptin' you two, but Lord..."

"What?" You wondered, a slight edge to your tone as you were interested in hearing what he was about to say.

He glanced at you with a soft smirk. "It was painful listenin' to that poor attempt of a flirt."

"A flirt? By who?"

"Y'know damn well by who," he pointed a strict finger at you, the smile still evident on his face as you tried to hide your own.

You arrogantly lifted your head, making sure to stick your nose up extra high as you crossed your arms. "I have no idea what you're talkin' abou'," purposely copying his very Southern accent badly. "That wasn't flirtin'."

"Damn right, it wasn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have forty years of flirting experience," you bit back jokingly, about to snatch the two plates off the counter.

Jimmy scoffed with a shake of his head, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout you, darlin'." And with those words, he left through the doors again, going back into the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks, hurriedly following him.

"Wait-," you called out, "You think he was flirting with me?"

"A poor attempt of a flirt," he corrected you, his back already turned to you as he started cleaning the counters. Before you could say anything more, he stopped you with a raise of his hand, "Go back to work, sweet pea. We'll talk about this later," giving you a last wink.

Joel and Sarah got their meals, and you brought Miles his free lemonade as well. It was already past 7pm, almost closing time as you usually locked the doors at 8pm. Most customers had left, besides a few teenagers you decided to hang around for a bit, enjoying the cheap prices of the food. The father-daughter duo in the corner had split up, leaving the oldest Miller brother to sit alone at the table, his finger furiously trying to type out a message on his phone, only to give up with an annoyed sigh and switch to calling the person. His little girl had joined Miles at his table after her dad had told her that he was there.

It was a rare sight. You had never seen the young boy interact with people his age. Or really with anyone but you or your mom. Other adults had tried to make a few conversations work, only to be met with silence from him. He didn't enjoy talking to strangers much, understandably so. The sound of the two giggling brought warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. He hardly ever grinned as much with you as he did right at that moment with her. You had no idea he even had people around him that could make him this happy. He didn't even smile at his mother when you once saw her pick him up. It was a one-time-only experience, he usually took the bus home alone. Sometimes you accompanied him, just out of fear and worry as to who would even think to let their own child travel by public transport in the dark. But maybe that was your big-city brainwashed mind talking and small-town parents saw the world completely differently than you did.

"We got any new ones?" Jimmy's smoker voice brought you back to the present and made your eyes leave the two kids to look at him.

You shook your head, "No, I think that was it for tonight, you can start closing up." You rarely ever got any new customers past 7:30, so you gave him the o.k. to clean up in the back while you started at the front.

Rounding the counter, you passed the tables, now empty, to get the last few plates and glasses that were left by people who had left merely a few minutes ago. Some others noticed you cleaning, handing you over everything they didn't need any more along the way. With full hands, you came back to the bar area, placing each dirty plate, glass, and mug on the window sill, between the front area with the kitchen. Jimmy gave you a grateful smile as he got a hold of them.

As you turned around, you were once again faced with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of Joel Miller standing in front of you. He had stacked their two plates together, with the cutlery right on top, and the now empty lemonade glasses right next to them.

"Oh-," you chuckled, "Thank you," taking them off the counter to turn around and put them on the sill as well.

"It was really good, so, thank you," he commented with a tight smile.

"I'll let the chef know."

"The chef knows!" The older man shouted out from the kitchen, letting his head peak out the window with a big grin. His facial expression made both of you chuckle.

You turned back to face the oldest Miller, glancing up at him slightly shyly, not even trying to hide it. "You're leaving?"

Joel nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Yeah... Tommy needs to get picked up. And Sarah's got school tomorrow. Gotta check if the homework's all done." You nodded along to every single word dripping from his lips, even daring to take a few quick glances down to see each movement and curve of them. "I mean- she always does them, I don't... I don't think she'd ever not do her homework, she'll even do them in short breaks or... in the car or something. But..."

"Just to make sure," you grinned at him, blocking his further rambling.

Joel nodded, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "Exactly... yeah..." He opened his mouth just a bit one more time, but wouldn't dare to speak, making you wait in silence, begging he would continue whatever his mind had come up with next.

He cleared his throat, looking over at his little girl, before switching back to you. "I- I should get her."

You gave him a hasty nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course."

Just as he passed the counter to walk over to the two kids who still seemed to be as giggly as they were 30 minutes ago, Joel turned back around.

He called out your name, making you whip your head around with hope.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know if his parents are gonna come pick him up?"

Not the question you were desperately waiting to come out of his mouth, but at least something.

You shook your head, "No, he usually takes the bus. I'll go with him after closing."

Hesitantly, but still, he nodded, mumbling a quick, "Alright," before continuing to make his way over to the other corner of the diner.

In the meantime, you got back to wiping down the front counter, before moving onto each table in the room. Even the ones that hadn't been used that day, you made sure to clean. In the position you were in, you could see Joel and Sarah heading for the front door, only to stop and wave at you.

"I'll see ya," the oldest Miller smiled, "Have a good night." You waved back, chuckling as Sarah excitedly waved as well.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"You too, Sarah. Good night."

Your eyes didn't leave their forms until they were back in the car after Joel opened one of the doors on the passenger side in the back, waiting for his daughter to jump in. You couldn't help but grin at the sight. Other customers who passed you, said their goodbyes, making you walk over to their tables to collect the money they left for the food they had eaten. Arrived at the table the father-daughter had occupied merely minutes ago, you glanced at the money, counting the bills with your fingers only to realise the generous tip Joel had left for you. Damn it, there you were smiling again.

Miles was entertaining himself outside, still in the same booth while you joined Jimmy in the kitchen. Every table had been swiped over, the counter cleaned to perfection, the cashier counted and the money stored safely in the safe. You had found a comfortable place on top of one of the counters in the kitchen, a mug of the last bit of coffee that was in the pot now in your hand. Just as you were about to take a sip, a groan fell from your lips as the memory hit you.

"Huh? What?" The older man looked up from the floor he was sweeping over.

"I forgot to give him his coffee...," you mumbled out loud.

Jimmy's thick brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Joel..." He had ordered a black coffee. You had even told him it was free, and he never got to taste it... but then again, he didn't ask you a second time...

He seemed to think for a second before the corners of his lips curled up, "Aaah, Sir Handsome."

Your head shot up in confusion, "What? Sir Handsome? Really?"

Jimmy just shrugged, "That's what I'm gonna call him."

"His name's Joel. Joel Miller."

"Miller?!" He stopped in his tracks, coming to a halt with the chore, almost dropping the broom to sit against the counter. "From 'round here?"

You nodded.

"Miller, like Thomas Miller?!"

You glanced at him in confusion. "You mean Tommy Miller?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Whatever that punk's name was," and went back to cleaning up. His reaction got a chuckle out of you.

The name Tommy Miller, or like Jimmy sacred to call him, Thomas Miller, had embranded itself onto the entire staff of the Diner. Even past employees knew about him. Hell, even the food inspectors that used to come around once a year knew about him - he had the fantastic idea of following the lady around the diner like a lost puppy, flirting with her the entire time. The fact that she was well over 30 and he just a good 18 years old was so not important to him at the time.

He and his entourage were well-known around the area for multiple reasons. Their bad reputation had followed them all throughout their teenage and young adulthood, leaving a memory of their presence with each and every one who had ever come in touch with them.

"Yeah... they're... brothers."

With a clearly unamused facial expression, Jimmy glared at you, making you sit up straighter in an instant.

"Joel's the older one. And he's nothing like Tommy," you assured him. "I promise."

"And how d'you know that, young lady?" He popped his hip out to the right side, leaving the broom to lean against the counter as he took in his stance.

Jimmy might not be your father, but he's someone's. And you can tell. Your dad had been sick for longer than you'd like to remember, leaving Jimmy to take on the role of the next best thing of a male parental figure with a slight touch of a close friend.

"He- We...," you sighed, looking at the booth behind you to take a quick peek at Miles, colouring some pictures you had given him as entertainment. "I was at a bar-"

"When?" He nagged.

"Not too long ago."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago," you answered him with a sigh, trying to continue the story, when he interfered again. He shook his head, sighing your name out loud as he ran a hand over his face.

"Jimmy-"

"I won't tell your Mom, don't worry," he raised his hands in defence. "Just wantin' to know you were safe."

"I was," you told him, "partially thanks to Joel." Making him frown. "So. As I said. I was at a bar and Tommy, Joel's brother, was there with his group of friends-"

"Oh, Lord, help me...," Jimmy mumbled.

"Not his teenage friend group!" You called out, "I don't think so at least... I don't know," you brushed off the thought, "Anyways, I was there and Tommy invited me to sit with them. And at first, I wasn't really sure, but then Joel came too and I was like... why not, you know?" The older man gave you a knowing smirk. "But that quickly turned into a mistake because his friends, high school friends or not, were jerks, so I wanted to go home, but I had a few drinks, so Joel drove me home."

"You gave a random man your address?!"

"This is a small town!" You defended yourself, "If he was bad news, everyone would know!"

"That's not the point-"

"The point is!" You interrupted him, "I only got into his car because he was genuinely nice and the only one of them all that listened to me and actually seemed like he wanted to talk to me at that table." The part of your best friend technically forcefully reserving you a seat in the passenger side of his car was left out.

"Yeah...," Jimmy shook his head with a sigh, "You know who else was this charismatic?"

"Who?"

"Ted Bundy."

"Jimmy!" You threw your head back with a big laughter erupting from your lungs.

The audacity to even compare these two men.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile. Sounds like Ted to me." Like he knew the guy...

"You can't say that," you scolded him, wiping away the tear that had fallen from your eye in the middle of the fit of laughter. He joined you with a wholehearted chuckle, coming closer, to stand right across from you.

"So, what about him?" He suddenly turned serious, crossing his arms in front of his small beer belly.

You shrugged. "I like him," thinking for a second before continuing. "I only met him once- well, twice now, and I think he's really handsome. But... I don't know. I don't think he looks at me like that. This crush might be one-sided."

"Why not? Y'are a pretty lady!" He called out with another frown. It would let people believe he was mad when only compliments kept falling from his lips. "Ya smart, good with kids, polite. Why wouldn't he like ya?"

"He didn't even remember my name from the last time we met!"

Jimmy couldn't hide his smirk of amusement, "Sweetheart..."

"What? This isn't funny! I'm in a crisis."

"Y'are wearin' a name tag."

Your right hand immediately flew up to your chest and onto the plaque you always wore on the right side of your shirt. Glancing down, you saw the piece of plastic staring right back at you. How could you even forget that you were wearing that thing?

"But why..."

"I told ya," the old man shrugged his shoulder with a chuckle, "A poor attempt of a flirt."

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, hopping down from the corner to take off the apron and mentioned tag. "That's really what you call flirting?"

"I think, he's a man probably somewhere around his thirties with a little girl by his side. How much female attention ya think he's been gettin'?"

"Have you seen him?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "I think quite a lot."

"Okay, how much female attention ya think he's lettin' get to him? This man probably hasn't even spent a night with another woman in YEARS. Where's the mom anyways?"

You shrugged, "Izzy said she got pregnant in college and everyone just thought he left her. But he has a daughter now and I hardly believe he would let his high school sweetheart alone with a baby while keeping one from another woman."

"Ya really thought a lot 'bout that, huh?"

With a smirk, you looked up at the ceiling before glancing to the side, trying to avoid his eyes as you mumbled, "Maybe a little..."

"If ya asked ya sister 'bout it, I doubt it was a little," he chuckled, noticing how riled up you were getting about the subject as you threw your apron on the counter.

"Alright! I thought about it a lot, okay?! I don't want to come off too strong when he has a whole family waiting for him at home. But so far... I don't think he has... but... I don't know." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "I have to get my information somehow."

"Could also just ask him, ya know?" Jimmy tapped your head as he snatched your apron off the counter after taking off his own and heading towards the employees' closet.

"I feel like that's rude. Imagine just talking to someone, kinda 'cause you're forced to do it and suddenly she's all up your business, asking you about romantic partners and whatnot." You came to a halt in the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him pull out his jacket and hand you your own.

"I don't think he'd be flirtin' so poorly with a girl if he had someone at home. "He sent you a stern look, "And if he has and still does that, he's a piece of shit." Making you chuckle as you put on the piece of outerwear.

"Can you stop saying poor flirting? He was talking. Maybe he's trying. He was telling me about his daughter."

"Jesus, sweet pea, he told ya her entire life story. Ya could write her autobiography with all the ramblin' he did today," Jimmy joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed along with him as you grabbed your bag and headed back to the kitchen. "You're overreacting."

"Am not!" He told you. "The last time I sounded like that was when I tried to get to sweet talk my beautiful Betty." Your lips formed into a smile at the mention of his wife. This man could talk about her for HOURS. He's a true role model for the upcoming generation, and you were hopeful for his children getting to watch a couple truly in love right in front of their eyes.

"Plus," he added, "I have a cousin. Jeff. Single dad for three years. He's been tryin' to get himself out there again, and good God... Jesus help him. This man knows nothin'. Nothin'. That Joel kid reminds me of him a little," he stopped for a second to look at your blushed cheeks that had started to heat up. "Like I said, I didn't want to interrupt ya, but it was painful. Just like with Jeff."

You shook your head in defeat. There you had your confirmation. If what Maria had told you wasn't already enough, you better trust the wise words of a fifty-year-old man, married to the love of his life for a good thirty years.

"So," you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath in, "You think I have a chance?"

Jimmy sighed. He shook his head. After a step forward, he stopped right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, only to cup your cheeks right after.

"My dear," he made sure you were looking him straight in the eyes. "I think ya could make a man build a castle with his bare hands for ya. And I think ya know that too."

You smirked, retrieving a small memory from that night in his truck. "Well... he is a constructor."

Jimmy gave you a laugh with his whole heart, pulling your face in to place a warm peck on the top of your head. He let you free again, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Just give that man some time. Y'are a beautiful lady. He's nervous." With a final nod, he left through the back door of the diner, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He knew you'd be taking the bus to make sure Miles got home.

Speaking of, the last sounds echoing through the empty area were your beating heart and the scraping of the coloured pencils getting dragged over the paper by Miles. Your head turned to the side, and with a smile, you watched the young boy.

Just give him some time.

A week later, on Tuesday, you saw him again.

Monday had passed and there had been no sign of Sarah or him. Miles had been at the diner, entertaining you with some casually fun stories from school, including the young Miller girl in a few of them, but never anything else. And you weren't going to pester him about why she hadn't visited the diner after her practice on Monday.

But there he was, strolling into the room on Thursday, 6:30 in the evening. You were writing down the order of a group of teenagers when you heard the bell above the door. Right after you lifted your head, just wanting to call out a quick, "Welcome!", your breath got caught in your throat, making you cough out loud awkwardly. With a hand in front of your lips, you tried to cover it up, going back to writing down the order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"He's here!" You shout-whispered at the cook, who whipped his head around.

"Who?" He wondered, answering you quickly, but as soon as he saw your wide-eyed stare, he got the message. Jimmy smirked as he placed two finished plates on top of the counter. His eyes drifted from your form over the open window out into the restaurant, his smile dropping in an instant.

"Fucking Miller," he cursed out loud. You turned around to follow his gaze, finding not only Joel but also Tommy taking a seat in a booth right across from you. The older Miller's head seemed to notice your stare, glancing up, only for you to quickly turn around again.

"What do I do?" You continued to whisper, now even more careful about the others possibly hearing you as they were only a few feet away and an open window wasn't much of a sound barrier.

The cook rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Get that punk out of the restaurant."

"Wh- Not Tommy! I don't mean him," you explained. "Joel."

Jimmy looked back at you, "Just be yourself, Jesus," grumbling something to himself that you couldn't quite understand.

Defeated, you took a deep breath in, reminding yourself of who you actually were and trying to get your act back together. If Maria could see you, she'd be filming you for a future Comedy sitcom - she'd have a field day with the state you were in. Nervous because of a man...

Just as you turned around, ready to face the outside world again, Jimmy's call out of your name made you stop.

"Huh?"

"Give me that," he nudged his head towards your hands.

"What?" With a frown you glanced down, seeing the order you had just written down, already long forgotten again. "Oh- right," you ripped the piece of paper off the block and put it on top of the counter before trying to walk away again. But there he was, the older man stopping you one more time.

"What?" You asked him, clearly on edge now, slightly amusing him.

"I swear to God, I'll spit in his food. Don't matter what he'll order." You knew exactly, who he was talking about, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

You pushed the swinging doors, taking a quick look around the space, trying to see if anyone needed something for you, but it was, just like the last few times, barely packed. Going past the counter, you crossed the floor to the other side of the restaurant, already noticing one side of the handsome face you had been so desperate to see again.

"Hey, guys," you approached them with a smile, stopping right by their table, now also finally getting a peek at the younger Miller. Both men were still in some type of work attire and you noticed the slight shine and curl to their hair. Tommy's was longer and darker, but you prefered Joel's.

"Hey, girly," the youngest grinned at you before slapping his older brother's arm that was perched up on the table. "See, I told you, she'd be here," he turned back to you, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Good, busy. The usual, you know. You?"

"Good, good," he continued, "Getting back into the American lifestyle, chasing the American Dream." You didn't notice the roll of the eyes from Joel.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "You're chasing the American Dream?"

"Sure am," he answered you proudly. "Might not be as smart as you are, but a man's gotta try."

"'Course, why not," you shrugged, a smile still on your lips, hoping your answer would be enough.

"So," he huffed out a big breath, taking the menu into his grip, pretending to read over it. "I heard your turkey sandwich and pancakes are still as good as I remember."

You had to admit, the thought of Joel and Sarah telling him about their dinner at the diner warmed your heart a bit.

"I mean," you smirked, "I might be a bit biased, but I'd say so, yeah. Jimmy's still making them as good as always."

"Jimmy's still here?" Tommy wondered, making you nod a take a step to the side, letting him take a quick peek into the kitchen. "Ey, Jimmy!" The old man turned around, meeting the young Miller's eyes with a glare. Tommy lifted his hand for a wave, but the cook's attention was already back on the food he was making.

"Still doesn't like me, I see," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly as you laughed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he spat in your foot." Joel suddenly spoke up. You looked over to him, giggling at the comment, making his lips curl up in return.

"He offered," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him,

"Well," he shot his brother an annoying smirk, "Aren't you a treat for this town."

Tommy looked up at you, a hasty response dropping from his lips, "Tell him I decline. Gladly." Before scowling at his older brother.

Suddenly, you felt like you were interrupting something between the two. With a deep breath, the younger Miller brother was back to his old self, fixing the fit of his jacket. "Well, then... I'll take the turkey sandwich and see if it's still holdin' up to the good ol' times."

Your lips curled up into a teasing grin, deciding to just throw out the comment tickling your tongue. "You're doubting Jimmy's talent?"

"I would never," he quickly told you, making you chuckle and gently shake your head before you diverted your attention to the older brother, seeing him already looking up at you. The menu was barely in his grip as his fingers played with the laminated corners of the paper.

"I'll take the same," waiting for you to be done writing it down asking Tommy to pass him his menu and handing both over to you.

Before you turned around to get the orders over to Jimmy, you asked, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded, "Sure, thank you," intertwining his hands on top of the table as he looked at you. He didn't comment on the fact you forgot about that the last time he was there. You sure wouldn't forget it this time.

"Make that two, please," Tommy quickly added with a thankful nod after you assured them to be right back.

Trying to keep your eyes off the man was harder than you had hoped it would be. While you were able to busy yourself with taking orders and repeatedly cleaning the counter - you swear, it had never been cleaner than that day - you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to the seat right by the window.

Joel and Tommy were sipping the coffee you had brought them, munching on their sandwiches, hopefully, oblivious to the internal fight you had going on with yourself. Miles was almost finished with his free lemonade and you were actually close to getting him another one, just so you had something to do. You couldn't just lurk around the counter like you usually would, otherwise, you'd find yourself staring at one of the brothers for too long.

During your little cleaning frenzy, you were able to let not only Jimmy's words but also Maria's re-run in your mind again. The evening, right after Joel and Sarah had spent their evening time in the diner, your best friend got every single detail from you, the moment she stepped into the apartment at 4am. Yes, you had stayed up to tell her. The session ended at around 6, the sun lighting up the living room being the indication to finally go to bed, where you found yourself awake for another good 40 minutes, just begging for a good dream to finally find you.

You had recalled the entire few hours he was in the same room as you. The moment he and his daughter stepped into the diner, the brief conversation you guys had, the coffee you had forgotten, up until the moment he had to basically verbally drag Sarah away from Miles' booth to get her home. Maria's screeching and excited jumps on the couch made you smile to yourself as you remembered the evening. It came close to a miracle that you got away without a single purple mark on your arm, considering she was repeatedly hitting you, smacking the naked skin of your upper arm each time his name fell from your lips.

She had put extra emphasis on the "I'll see ya," Joel had left the diner with. To which you sadly had to explain to her the casual meaning of those few words. It was a somewhat polite way to say goodbye to someone you know, not necessarily meaning that you'll see each other again. Maybe indicating it, but definitely not meaning it word for word - but Maria stood her ground.

You had also told her about your gossiping session with Jimmy afterwards. She had only met him a handful of times, her own working hours not leaving her much time to come and visit you at the restaurant, so told tales would have to do it. But even without really knowing the man, she agreed to each and everything he had said.

"You know, there's not a lot that I would believe coming from a man or even listen to. But if anyone knows about a man's poor flirting techniques, it would be another man."

You had hidden your face in one of the pillows on your couch, the heat shooting into your cheeks being almost too much to bear, resulting in another few slaps to your arm from her. Jesus, could could start giggling and kicking your feet right now too, just at the mere thought of there being some sort of truth to their words and Joel's actions. But there was a barrier of reality still right in front of you. Not only had Jimmy mentioned his 'poor attempt of a flirt' but also the fact that your not-so-silly little crush was a 30-year-old father, with possibly very limited dating experience in the past few years. It wasn't something you had even tried to consider before Jimmy mentioned it. Add the unnecessary comment from one of Tommy's friends back at the bar, and it suddenly made sense.

"This poor man probably has no idea that you're even interested in him," Maria had whined out loud, "He's trying his best, but God..." You chuckled at her voice in the back of your head.

You ditched your daydream the moment the coffee pot was fully filled up again, the coffee machine making its usual sound to let you know it was done. With that, you began your usual round within the diner, passing each person who was holding onto a cup, asking them for a refill. Most happily accepted your offer, leaving you with a half-empty pot once you reached the two brothers.

"Another cup for you two?"

Tommy smiled up at the sound of your voice, "Sure, thanks, Y/N." You made sure his mug was properly filled up before turning towards Joel, who politely declined.

"Not for me, but thank you," nodding his head at you.

"Still trying to cut down?" His younger brother wondered, speaking over the brim of the mug he had brought up to his lips.

Joel took a deep breath, "If you had a 9-year-old lecturing you about the effects of caffeine each morning, you'd start thinkin' about it too." The explanation got a chuckle out of Tommy and made your lips curl up into a smile. Before you even thought about turning around to walk back behind the corner, you decided to continue the conversation. Taking every shot you could, just like Maria had told you.

"How is she?" You asked, "Sarah."

The older Miller brother lifted his head with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, but you just continued to smile at him. Tommy continued to hold his cup up against his mouth, hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

"Good," Joel let you know, "Very good. She... She had a test today. Lot to study yesterday... so we couldn't come over."

"I see," you humed, "I was wondering where you guys were."

A brief moment of silence followed your comment, almost making you regret admitting to the longing. Thankfully, the younger Miller got up from his seat with a clearing of his throat, making Joel perk up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Gonna take a piss. You wanna control that too?" Sending his older brother an unreadable facial expression, almost glare, before he disappeared to head towards the toilet.

You frowned when a sigh escaped Joel's lips. "Everything okay?" You asked him, eyeing the older man carefully as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Just... Tommy being Tommy."

A chuckle fell from you, making you cover your lips with your fingers. "Sorry," you excused yourself as he lifted his head, "Just... if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words from someone with that expression... I wouldn't be working here anymore."

Joel laughed. You managed to get the scowl off his face to replace it with a genuine laugh. He looked down at the table, shaking his head, but you could see his shoulders shaking and the unmistakable sound of joy coming from him. You tried to hide your amusement, the moment he locked eyes with you again.

"I thought you worked here because you were a good daughter," he commented. He remembered the conversation in his truck. On the way to your place, you had briefly mentioned the reason you had come back to Texas. And he remembered.

You grinned, "Oh, I'm a great daughter." Joel chuckled. "But I wouldn't mind the extra cash." Your own words let a thought flash into your mind. "Speaking of," you started again, "Thank you for the tip... last week. It really- you... you didn't have to do that."

"All good," he sent you a quick smile, "Good service needs a good reward."

"Even though I forgot your coffee," you sheepishly admitted, just getting another chuckle out of him.

"We got good food and free drinks, so you won't find me complaining," he simply told you, making you smile and look down at the pot of coffee you were still holding onto.

"Well," you had started to tap around with your fingers, trying to look for the next words to say, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"'Course," he nodded at you before you turned around to get behind the counter again.

Only a few minutes later, the two brothers decided to call it a day and stand up to leave. You were just coming back out from the kitchen when you found them standing at the register, both smiling when you came to a halt.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," Tommy grinned at you, gently smacking his hand on top of the counter.

You chuckled, "Bye, have a good evening." 'Night' would've probably been more suitable as it was pitch black outside. A quick look towards the clock would also tell you it was already 7:51pm - almost closing time.

The younger one turned towards the exit door while Joel stood still, waiting for your eyes to lock again.

"I'll see you next week. Goodnight," he simply said with a smile, turning around without another word. His soft voice lingered in your head even after he was already through the doors and on his way to his beloved pick-up truck.

You quickly pulled yourself back into the presence. With a swift turn around, you rushed back into the kitchen. Even before the door was fully closed again, you were jumping around the space, getting a shocked facial expression from Jimmy in return.

"He said 'See you next week!!" You squealed in exactly, your arms moving around in the air as you got closer to the chef.

With a tight grip on his arm, you shook him, "He said 'SEE YOU NEXT WEEK'!"

The older man just grinned at you, shaking his head as he watched you dance around the kitchen.

"How much joy just a few words can bring to ya, kid," he softly spoke, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder to cross his arms and lean against the counter.

"Just a few words?!" You stared at him, stopping your movements, "He just promised me that he'll come back next week! He WANTS to come back!" Reality hit you for a split second. "I sound really delusional, but I. Don't Care." Before starting your little happy dance around the space again. Jimmy's deep chuckles bounced off the walls.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen ya so happy." He admired the pure happiness spilling from you, filling the room with nothing but joy. With a sigh, your spinning around came to an end.

"I'm happy because I get to see a good-looking hunk of a man again! Can you blame me?"

"Hunk of a man?" Jimmy laughed out loud, his entire upper body shaking as he walked around the corner to push you towards the door. "Get to locking up and then ya can tell me all about Sir Handsome again."

"Okay!" You squealed again, pushing out the door, the echo of his laughter still in the background. Suddenly, getting through the rest of the week seemed to be much more enjoyable than before.

On Friday, one of the only days, you had gotten off of work at the diner, you decided to join Maria in the bar. While she was working, you were enjoying your time sitting at the counter once again. You were sipping on your second drink of the night, drinking slowly as you weren't looking for something wild tonight, but rather just enjoying a nice calm evening. It was around 11pm and even though you had been sitting there for a good 2 hours, there was not a massive amount of alcohol rushing through your body as you had asked your best friend to keep the drink mild. But some people had other plans that night.

"Well, hello there," a deep voice slurred next to you. With slight confusion you turned to the right, eyeing the man that had tumbled up to the bar counter.

You sighed, "Hey." Nothing against drunk people, hell, you were one of them from time to time, but God... sometimes you can just tell, you know?

He blinked at you, "A pretty little girl so alone in the middle of a bar in the middle of the night?" His dirty blonde hair was roughed up and the plaid button-up hung loosely around his frame. It seemed to be a size too big.

"Yeah," you nodded, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, to be honest." For tonight, there were no plans. You were waiting for a beautiful man on Monday, that was plan enough.

The guy chuckled, holding onto the counter as he stumbled back, "I'm Cody and I'm sure I could change ya mind. I could show ya good time, I promise."

"You're trying to sell yourself here? I'm not interested, thank you," you simply told him, internally begging for Maria to come back to the front, but she was being kept busy in the back apparently. Nobody else seemed to be interested in what was going on between you and the drunk fuck next to you.

With slight confusion written across his face, he continued to stumble over his words. "Who says anythin' about sellin'? I ain't sellin' myself. Ya can get this here for free," pointing towards himself.

"As I said," you repeated yourself, making sure annoyance laced your voice, "Not interested." Just as you tried to get up and move, hoping to get behind the bar and into the backroom, you felt a tight grip on your arm.

"Listen," the man stopped you, "You don't know what ya missin' out on here, sweetcheeks."

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into if you continue to talk like that to me. Let go of me," you hissed at him. You were taught how to use your words, not your hands though, so you didn't really know what exactly you were threatening him with.

A disgusting sarcastic chuckle came from him while his grip just tightened. You glared into his eyes with a hint of fear as he let his face get closer to you, "Look, I don't wanna do this another-"

"Hey, what's goin' here?" Never would you have ever thought to be thankful to hear that voice. Whipping your head to the left, you found a wondering Tommy Miller, glancing between you and the drunk guy. A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips. "You two are lookin' awfully close."

"Get back to ya own business, cowboy," the guy spat at the younger Miller brother, his eyes raking over his frame when he found the boots Tommy was wearing. "I'm just talkin' to the pretty lady 'ere."

"Well, but I know that pretty lady, so it kinda is my business, you know?" He simply answered him, daring to take a step closer. Tommy glanced at you, "You know him, Y/N?" He asked.

You shook your head with a gulp, to which he just nodded, but before he could even say something, the drunk, still holding onto you, beat him to it.

"She's lyin'! I just introduced myself!"

"You know, I believe her," Tommy stopped him, raising his hand to place it on top of his that was gripping your arm, "So how about you take your-"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" The other guy snapped at him, pulling his hand off you, reacting to Tommy's touch like it was fire.

The younger Miller could just laugh at the reaction. "What?" He chuckled, "So you can put your hands on a random woman but as soon as I do it it's uncomfortable? A bit ironic, don't you think?"

"What are ya tryin' to do here?" With a few steps, the guy was head to head with Tommy, making you take a quick jump back. "Ya think ya gotta prove you've got some big balls here?"

"Me?" Tommy pointed to himself with a chuckle, "Nah, I just wanted to know if I gotta play translator." His comment got a look of confusion from the man in return. "I didn't you understood the English language because I'm pretty sure she said she wasn't interested, but you just... ignored that?"

"Ya makin' fun of me?"

"Am I?" Tommy continued to nag at the guy, making you take a step forward, trying to reach for him.

"Tommy, don't-" only to get pushed back by the dirty-blonde man.

"Get the fuck away!" He shoved you, making you stumble backwards, hitting the back of another guy, to whom you quickly excused yourself.

The younger brother looked at you in concern, but as soon as he saw you safe on your feet, his attention was back on the drunk in front of him.

He sighed, "Look," he motioned towards you. "Now I have to hit you. Because you just hit her."

"I didn't hit her," the guy scoffed, "I barely even pushed her."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you did that," with a strong force, Tommy pushed into the guy's chest. "Maybe even a little harder, like this," and repeated it with some added strength.

In clear annoyance, the drunk man shoved Tommy's hands off of him, only giving it another second before he let his fist swing. The Miller brother was quick to react, moving out of the way before landing the first official punch to the guy's side. The blonde groaned at the impact, only letting it affect him for a split moment before pushing Tommy further away. It gave him the time and space to land his own first hit to Tommy's face, making you gasp out loud.

The entire's bar attention was now on the two fighting men, creating some space for them as they stumbled across the floor. You could only hear a few mumbles around you as your eyes were fixed on the fight in front of you. You tried to look for Maria but a crowd had formed right in front of a bar with mostly men, taller than you, hiding the counter area.

One punch made Tommy land on his ass as the other guy whipped his hand over his lips, you guessed there was some blood. You took the opportunity, to get down on the floor, your hands on the Miller's arm.

"Come on, stop this, don't waste-"

But before you could finish it, somebody shoved your body away from Tommy, making your back hit the wooden pole right behind you. You groaned out loud, closing your eyes for a second.

"Y/N!" You heard Maria's voice as she suddenly appeared, standing in front of the crowd with a glass bottle in her hand. In the next moment, she held the bottle up, swinging it to let it hit the back of the drunk guy's head before he could land another punch to Tommy's face as he straddled him. The man fell to the side, right by your feed, making you flinch away.

"Are you okay?!" Maria was right by your side, crouching down as she helped you up.

You nodded, "Yeah, yeah," you had only hit your back, which would definitely leave a mark, but not much else. Your worry lay on the guy who hadn't gotten up yet. No, not the clearly drunk one.

"Tommy," you rushed over, watching him as he groaned, blood rushing down from his nose. You couldn't even tell if there was blood coming from his mouth as well.

He huffed out, "Ah, fuck," trying to steady himself with his hands on the floor as he pushed himself up.

"Jesus Christ," Maria whispered out loud. The hushed voices around you got louder, making her raise her voice, "Everybody either get back to their table or out of here! There's nothing to see here!" After the first guy went after her demand, the rest followed.

"Tommy," you sighed, "I think we should get you to a hospital."

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked you. You nodded quickly,

"I am. But you don't look good."

"N-No... no hospital," he told you trying to stand up more, making you stumble up as well as you tried to hold onto him even though he was putting half of his weight on you already.

"You have to, Tommy. Your nose is probably broken."

"If only the nose," Maria commented, suddenly having an ice pack and some paper tissues in her hold. "You wanna take my car? Get him to the hospital... I'll see what I can do about... this one," she nodded towards the guy on the floor that was slowly coming back to consciousness. "Probably have to call the police."

"Did that already!" Out of nowhere, Steven suddenly shouted out from behind the bar, making your best friend roll her eyes.

"Where the fuck were you before?!"

"I can't let... I...," Tommy groaned, not finishing his sentence as his mouth seemed to hurt.

"Take my car," Maria quickly told you, handing you the ice pack, tissues and the keys from her bag pocket, "And call me once you're there. I'll handle this here." She also got your bag for you.

You smiled at her, "Thank you," to which she nodded, giving you a soft touch on the back before you tried to move Tommy towards. He seemed to be okay walking, but his face was clearly in pain as he held his head down. The walk towards Maria's car was quiet, only his groans and moans filled the air between the two of you.

In the car, you put on the radio, trying to let the silence not become awkward.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked you again.

You nodded, "You asked me that already. I'm okay. Only hit my back."

"Fucking idiot...," he mumbled, mostly to himself probably, but you shook your head.

"You too," you told him, "Why would you start a fight like that? I thought those days were over."

"I ain't lettin' a man talk like that to a woman, no matter what. And I know you, so I'm definitely not walkin' past that," he defended himself, almost raising his voice, but the situation told him not to.

The rest of the ride, the two of you listened to whatever was coming from the radio.

At the hospital, the two of you were told to wait in the waiting room as his injuries were not severe enough for him to be put in the emergency room. If it wasn't as late as it was, you would've started something with the personnel, but you already had enough of that for one night. They did offer you a new ice pack though and some more tissues.

You took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Tommy, trying to find a bearable position. "Should I call Joel?" You asked him, knowing how close the two seemed to be.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "Fuck..." He thought for a second before continuing, "No... let's not do that. Unless you really wanna see him." One quick glance to the side, you found him smirking at you, giving you a quick wink. Even with all the blood on his face, this man was still able to joke around...

"You...," you shook your head in disbelief, "You're in the hospital. This is about you. I think he should know about his little brother being in the hospital," you snapped at him, but he only continued to smile.

"But you want to see him again, right?"

"Tommy-"

"I heard you in the diner."

Your head snapped to glance at him. The annoying grin was still plastered on his face.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I left my hat in the booth. When I came back to get it I saw you dancing around the kitchen singing that he'll see you next week."

With a pout on your lips, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head to look away. You knew there was no blame on him for this situation and all the blame was to be put on you, but you couldn't help but feel sulky towards him.

You scoffed, "It's not nice to listen to other people's conversations."

"But now I can help you," he nudged your side, hissing softly as he moved. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was in serious pain and if you needed to get a nurse. He seemed fine as the smirk returned.

"Get your nose fixed first, then we'll talk."

With another groan, he sat forward, suddenly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans before falling back into the seat with a groan. He handed you his phone.

"Call him."

"Tommy, you didn't want him here. I'm not-"

"He'll be pissed at me, yes. But y'all can talk while I'm in there," you glanced at you, "Get to know each other a little better," wiggling with his eyebrows. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your lips curling up against your will. He nudged the Nokia closer to you, giving you no other possibility but to take it.

"I'll be right back," you mumbled, getting a giggle out of him.

"Start the call with 'hey babe'!" He shouted after you, putting on a fake high-pitched voice to mock you. A harsh 'ssh' from one of the nurses made him sink back into the chair and you turned around and threw him a quick middle finger before disappearing further into the corridor.

You pressed the buttons to get to his contact list, not finding anyone under J that wasn't a girl's name, so you decided to just look through the entire thing, starting with A, until you finally reached B.

Barbara, Beatrice, Billy, Boobs-

He had a contact for 'Boobs'? You shook your head.

Brother Old.

This could either be someone else, an old number of Joel or, as you had hoped, Joel's current number. You pressed to call it, putting the phone up to your ear. After four rings, somebody on the other side picked up.

"What?" An annoyed groan erupted through the speaker. The familiar roughness to his voice was unlike any other's.

"Hey Joel, it's Y/N," you answered him. Some shuffling around seemed to happen in the background before his voice rang through your ear again.

"Y/N? What's going on? What happened?" He hastily wondered.

You took a second of silence to form a good sentence, just thinking about what he was currently doing or even just looking like. It was in the middle of the night, and just taken from his voice, you'd say you had interrupted his sleep. Did he sleep in a pyjama set? No, he was a dad. A true dad wouldn't sleep in much else but some shirt and boxers. Or maybe he's not wearing anything at all to sleep. You were drifting off.

"Ehm... So... Sorry for calling so late-"

"It's okay, don't worry," he quickly assured you with a heavy breath.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lip before continuing. "I'm calling from the hospital. Tommy got into a fight."

"God damnit..." Joel cursed under his breath. There were more incoherent sounds in the background as he spoke. "Which hospital?"

"St. David's."

"Alright, I'm on my way," he told you.

You nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it, "Okay, we're in the waiting room right at the reception."

"Good, thank you."

"You're welcome, bye."

With a sigh, he put the phone down, ending the call and making your way back into the waiting room.

Tommy lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps getting closer to him.

He grinned at you. "And?"

You shook your head, handing him his phone back. "He wasn't thrilled."

"Ah," he brushed off your answer, "I bet your face will make him happy."

"Joel- Tommy, I mean-"

"I'm already getting confused with him? Wow, I'm honoured," he nudged you as soon as you sat down, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your amusement. "It's late."

"But you do like him."

"I barely know him," you defended yourself.

"But you find him attractive," he continued to nag further.

You nodded. There was no reason to hide it from him if he had already caught your burst of excitement back at the diner. "But I think half the female population of Austin would too."

"But half of the female population of Austin isn't you."

His comment made you turn your head in interest.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Tommy smiled. "I think I know my brother well enough to notice when he finds someone attractive."

You laughed at his answer. "Wow, you're just gonna out him like that?"

"Somebody's gotta do it," he shrugged, "What else he got a younger brother for." You shook your head in amusement.

You may not be the closest to Tommy, but this was the most time you had ever spent with just him. Plus, he had just admitted to noticing his brother's attraction towards you. That brought a thought to your head.

"Can I ask you something?" It probably wasn't the ideal situation, but oh well, if you already had him sitting right next to you, confined to a chair, why not. Shooting your shots.

"Sure."

"Is there... you know... I mean... with Sarah, I was thinking about like... her mom?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry 'bout that," he let you know, turning to meet your eyes. "It's not my story to tell, but... she's not in the picture."

You almost felt stupid. You had only seen this man a total of three times, yet he had managed to enarmour you and let you think that you suddenly had the right to know everything about his personal life.

"Why?" He asked with the smirk back plastered on his face, "You wanna ask him on a date?" The question took you by surprise, making you open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your lips quivered as you tried to come up with an answer, but Tommy just laughed at your surprised reaction. The rose blush to your cheeks gave you away.

"You should," he told you, "It's been like... God, I don't even know, like... two or three years. Christ, maybe even four."

"Since his last relationship?" You wanted to be careful with your questions, but there was no way when Tommy played open book to you.

He shook his head, glancing at you. "Since his last date."

"Oh..."

So Jimmy was right.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded to himself, "You'd be surprised how many women get scarred off by the whole dad thing." Your lack of answer made him look over again. "But not you."

"Hm?"

"You ask about Sarah. He likes that."

"Well... she's his daughter, so... kinda obvious to ask about her," you were taken aback by the disinterest of the other women he had mentioned.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but like I said... not many care 'bout that."

A few moments of silence followed. Neither one of you seemed to have any will to continue your conversation. You didn't want to keep nagging further and you were pretty sure Tommy had started to doze off in his seat. It gave you some time to think, but a sudden jolt from the man next to you brought you back. He was about to sit up straighter when his eyes caught something behind you making you flinch and duck into the chair again, groaning at the impact.

"What?" You wondered, turning around to only find two police officers in the hallway, talking to a nurse. With a frown, you turned back to the Miller brother. "What?"

"They can't see me like this."

His reaction alarmed you immediately. "Why not?"

He seemed to think about his next answer before spilling out, "I know those guys. And they don't like me. If they see me like this, I'm fucked."

"What?"

"I just got a new job, I can't get another mark in my record."

Your eyes widened, "Your criminal record?" To which he just nodded. "Tommy!" You shouted-whispered at him, making him shush you. "How many fights did you get in."

"A few, okay? Just," he put his finger up to his lips, signing for you to keep quiet. You dropped back against the backrest of the chair with a sigh, shaking your head as you ran both hands over your face, mumbling to yourself.

From the side, you tried to watch the two officers as they passed you, hearing a relieved chunk of air leaving Tommy as he sat up again. You couldn't believe it. You knew he wasn't an angel and you remembered his troubled time as a teenager. What you didn't know was how that time had continued to chase him into adulthood.

Noticing his still slightly on edge stance, you decided to change the subject, hoping to give him some kind of distraction. And it just so happened that you had an actual topic of interest for you personally.

"You think I should ask him out?" A gulp followed your question, unsure if dropping that would reveal itself to be a mistake or not.

"On a date?" Tommy's voice was steady again as he looked at you, his lips curled into a soft smile. You nodded, making him chuckle. "Give him some time and he'll ask you himself."

"You think?"

He nodded but continued. "I mean, you can ask him. I... I don't know how he'd react, to be honest, but he wouldn't leave you hangin'. He's just... he's a traditional southern-"

"Gentleman," you said in union, chuckling together.

"I mean," Tommy started, "You know, if a woman offered herself to me, I would never decline-" You stopped him with a soft shove to his arm, making sure not to be too harsh since you didn't know how severe his injuries were. "But," he pushed your hand away from him, "Joel's a bit more old-fashioned in that way."

"I see," you nodded understandingly. Hearing this in connection to any other man would've probably made a chill run down your spine and the sick feeling of pure disgust bubble in your stomach, but for some reason, it didn't when it came to Joel. Tommy spoke so softly about him being s traditional gentleman, he made it sound good and proper. Not conservative and old.

A nurse's voice, calling out for Tommy made you look up as he tried to get out of his chair. You offered to help him, but he brushed it off, telling you to 'wait here for Joel' with a wink before following the nurse down the hall.

Only a few minutes later, heavy footsteps stomped through the corridor, coming to a stop at the reception. Before the older Miller brother could even ask for information on Tommy, his eyes found you. Curled up on a chair, your eyes closed and your shoulders lifting and dropping in an even beat. With the time now being well over midnight, you had given into your body's pleas for sleep and found some form of comfort in the waiting room chair.

He tried to be as smooth as possible, getting into the chair right next to you, previously occupied by his brother, but even at the slightest sound, you jerked up, lifting your head to find him.

"Hey, sorry for wakin' you," Joel excused himself, brushing his hands over the top of his jeans. He had thrown them on even though they should probably already be in the wash and the shirt was wrinkled as he had fallen asleep in it. His unruly hair, messy and curly, showed the sleep you had woken him up from. But even in this state, which most would describe as dishevelled, he still managed to look good. He looked comfortable. Warm.

You shook your head with a tired smile, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you. "It's okay."

"How long have been you here?"

"Ehm...," you tried to look around for the clock on the wall. 12:05. "Not too long, like 40 minutes or something."

He nodded, letting a sigh fall from his lips. "What happened?"

You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the makeup you had put on a few hours before, but it probably was already smudged either way. Unsure if the story Tommy would tell would hold any truth or if he'd make up something, you decided to tell it in whole.

"There was a guy," you started, continuing to explain the entire situation to Joel, meeting his eyes a few times during the story, watching him go from annoyed, to concerned, to slightly irritated. He let you finish before asking further questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just hit my back."

Joel frowned, "How?"

"I tried to get to Tommy after he got pushed to the floor, but that idiot threw me against a pole," you let him know, the scowl on his face only deepening. His wrinkles weren't just a sign of age. This man had been frowning too much in his life. Yet, it somehow suited him.

"You don't wanna get that checked? You sure you're okay?" He asked you further, but you just continued to nod.

"I drove here. I'm fine," you shrugged it off. Joel just sighed again, looking around the room before he continued.

"Anyone called the cops?"

"Probably," you answered him honestly. You didn't know for sure, but there was a high chance that you just got out quick enough. His deep breath in and out made you remember the reaction the two officers brought out of Tommy. "But I don't know. Maria said she'd handle it. My friend at the bar," you quickly added.

Joel glanced at you, his elbows digging into his thighs. "That's nice of her. Thank you." But you just nodded again.

Carefully, you decided to get closer. "Tommy mentioned something about a new job..."

"Yeah," the older brother sat himself up straight, letting himself fall back into the chair, "I got him a job at the company I work at. Just carpenter stuff, but... if they find out he was involved in a bar fight," he shook his head, "I don't know. My boss already took him in just because I practically begged him to."

"I see," you answered him, just letting him know you had been listening.

"Thank you for staying here with him. And for bringing him. And thanks to your friend for handling the whole police-" Joel began to ramble, but you were quick to stop him, subconsciously just putting your hand on his upper arm.

"It's okay," you smiled up at him, getting a thankful nod and soft smile in return.

It was only then it hit you.

Not only did this man have the responsibility of raising a nine-year-old girl, but he also was taking care of a man in his mid-to-late twenties. Letting him live with him, making sure he had a job, and picking him up from a hospital after a bar fight. You could see the tiredness on his face, and it didn't only have to do with the fact that he had to get up in the middle of the night. It was years old tiredness. You know it from your father. Carrying the world on his shoulders, dragging him, not letting him live to his full potential. The constant instinct to care and worry following his every step.

On one side, you couldn't help but find it attractive, his primal instict of protection, but on the other, you felt deeply sorry for him, you realised. If he hadn't been a met-three-times 'stranger' you would've offered him a hug. He looked like he could need one.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller @lizlil

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @sidelnes

#tlou #the last of us #series #couldn’t love more #Joel miller x reader #Tommy miller #Joel miller #hbo!joel miller #Pedro pascal #x Reader #Pedro pascal!joel miller #fluff #pre-outbreak!joel #hbo!tlou

84 notes · View notes