#kicking my feet and daydreaming about this for the rest of the day

[joonjuul]

choked on smoke. jjk

pairing: exboyf!jk x reader

wc: 3.2k

warnings: exboyfriend!jk, softdom!jk, kindasubby!jk, jk is a switch??, bro is yearningggg, lots and lots of angst, reader is slightly depressed, breakup mentions, choking, light mouth play, lots and lots of cigarettes, crying mentioned (non sexual), pet names, slight impreg kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight creampie mentions, more pwp don’t hate me

a/n: this was a lot of fun to write. it’s like all my favorite things in one: desperate jungkook, cigarettes, and angst. reqs open!!

╋━

you still remember how it felt. so close to him yet so far. the way your heart thumped in your chest, your cheeks hot with tears, mind racing, palms sweaty. you remembered it almost like it was yesterday. the way he looked into your eyes deeply, before breaking you in ways you never knew were possible.

“this isn’t working.”

you could still hear him now if you focused really hard. you could still hear his laugh. feel his skin against yours. the way he used to twirl your hair, or circle patterns along your bare back as you laid beside him. you missed him more than anything, and every time you thought about him it only deepened the wound.

it’s been a month now. a month since you last saw him. last touched him. you feel the cold gust of wind rustle against your clothes as you bring the dainty cigarette butt up to your chapped lips, inhaling slowly before feeling the intoxication fill your lungs. even dressed in your warmest clothes, you still couldn’t escape the icy january wind, or the coldness that consumed your insides from sheer loneliness.

you look down at the cigarette in your hands, watching carefully as the ashes fall to the ground, the wind picking up pieces and allowing them to float off, find another spec of air to pollute. but the thought of you being a smoker now is only nauseating. you only started smoking so you could feel closer to him, so you could experience his scent one last time. it wasn’t a habit you picked up by your own means, just another way for him to poison you for the rest of your life.

you flick the half smoked cigarette off your balcony and turn to face the slider door, entering your now slightly chilled apartment.

everything was dark now, it wasn’t something you could fully explain or put into words, but your life was dark, your apartment was dark, everything about you was dark, and you knew he was the reason why.

you daydream as your feet carry you to the kitchen, eyes dancing over the messy sink, the fridge that was practically empty, and the cupboards that were collecting dust before turning back around and slumping down on your couch.

you weren’t sure what to do these days. it always felt like you were waiting for him to come home, but he never did. you could easily kick your feet up and watch a movie, do something to distract yourself, but you never did. you simply wallowed in the pain and memories of your last moments together, wishing you could’ve done something differently.

your mind drifts as you hear the subtle patter of rain begin outside.

at least it wasn’t snow.

how could he give up on you so easily? after all those years? it was never something you could fully comprehend. how one day he looked at you with his eyes full of love, and the next like you never existed to him, like he never loved you at all. you sometimes entertained the idea that he had found someone knew, something to make you hate him, make him easier to forget instead of having to live with the fact that he simply didn’t love you anymore, but it never worked. he was the most loyal man you knew, even during your hardships. it wouldn’t be fair to him to paint him as the bad guy when in reality, neither of you did anything wrong.

you’re quickly brought back to reality at the sound of a knock at your apartment door. it was almost strange, you never had visitors, in fact you didn’t really have any friends either. it could very well be your mom checking in again, but it was late, and she never liked to walk in the city at night.

before you can finish the thought, you’re in front of the door, your hand on the doorknob as you turn it slightly, the chill of the hallway gently caressing your face as your eyes fall on a very tall, very wet man standing before you.

not just any man.

“jungkook?”

his eyes are bloodshot, his face cold, and his clothes dripping with remnants of the weather outside.

“can i come in?”

his voice felt like your very first cigarette, the way you inhaled it perfectly the day he left you, the way the poison immediately swept through your bloodstream and straight to your head, leaving you dizzy and desperate for more.

you’re unable to garner a response, only able to stand beside your door, allowing him space to brush past you and into your once bright and welcoming home. but somehow, he doesn’t notice how your apartment has changed, and he doesn’t notice how you’ve changed either. how much weight you’ve lost, how you’ve cut your hair at least 3 times, how your undereyes are littered with bags instead of freckles.

you shut the door behind you as you watched him nervously pace throughout your kitchen, eyes dashing between you and the floor. his lips were pouty, like they always were after he cried. why was he here?

“jungkook, what’s going on?”

he stops in his tracks, turning quickly to face you, but never stepping closer, almost as if you’re too fragile for him to be near.

“i fucked up, y/n.”

silence fills the space between you, only the gentle, distant sound of raindrops filling your ears. you want to answer, you want to scream, you want to fall to your knees and beg for him back, but you don’t. instead you stand still, watching him intently as his eyes narrow in on you.

“i fucked up, bad.”

he takes a step closer, watching your reaction carefully, examining your body language. he looks desperate, like his life is filled with anguish, like he’s as broken as you are.

“i quit smoking.” he mutters under his breath. “i knew how much you hated it, so i quit.”

silence.

“i started smoking.”

his gaze shifts at your response, his brows furrowed together in a way that makes your knees weak, a way that makes your body crawl with need.

“why?”

he steps closer again. you watch as his hands go down instinctively to your waist, but stop before he’s able to make contact.

“because they reminded me of you.”

your eyes meet perfectly, dancing between each other as you feel the air between you thicken. the distant rain now turning into something of white noise as your mind zones in on one thing; him. you can see the hurt on his face, but you’re sure he can see the hurt on yours as well.

“why did you leave me?”

it comes out barely over a whisper, and you’re not sure why you said it, but it was a question that had been repeating in your mind for weeks. you thought you knew the answer, but seeing him here in front of you now, you weren’t so sure.

“you really don’t know do you?”

you shake your head no.

“you’re like a flame, y/n.”

he takes another step forward, his hand falling to the side of your face as he cups your skin gently, his touch igniting something within you.

“so beautiful, so warm, but always burning. i’m covered in scars from holding you to close.”

his words cut deep, but for some reason you still can’t understand. he was your world, your love, you never would’ve done anything to hurt him.

“i never asked you to break yourself for me. i just wanted you to stay.” your voice is hushed, breaking the barriers between you as you feel your chest get heavier, like you’re smoking him now, like he’s been the real poison all along.

“you pushed me away long before i left.” he continues to lean in towards you, his touch on your face only deepening the crimson on your cheek.

“you’re the one who gave up.” your voice is raw as you stare up at him, watching as he carefully tucks a hair behind your ear, hie eyes filled with desperation as you now realize how close you are to him.

“do you think i wanted to? you don’t even know how badly i wanted to stay, or how much i still do.” his stare intensifies as his gaze shifts down to your lips. his hand against your cheek is tender, but his face screams urgency as you both linger in the silence for a minute, your breaths mingling as you each wait for the other to respond, or to come closer.

“i still do.” jungkook mutters before tightening his grip on your face gently, pulling you towards him as he engulfs your lips in his. the kiss starts slow, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters. but soon the hunger strikes, mouths turning desperate as the weight of everything left unsaid pours out into each touch, each movement. before you know it your hands are tangled in his hair, your back pressed against the wall as he feverishly moves down your body, his lips finding every patch of skin he missed so deeply while you were gone.

“i never stopped wanting you.” he mutters in between kisses as he dives into the crook of your neck, peppering you with tiny bruises and marks, imprinting you in any way he can.

your movements are in sync, like everything you felt the last few months was mimicked within him, like he was struggling just as much as you were.

his hands quickly find the hem of your pants, pulling them down with intensity as his hands push your hips further into the wall. his strong arms holding you in place as he begins to rut against you, every moment he spent missing you now rolled into a tight coil within his stomach. every bone in his body yearned for you, for your touch, your scent, and he was painfully overwhelmed, his hard on probing you with every needy grind of his hips.

you moan out carelessly, his name seeping from your lips as your hands pull and tug his damp hair, finger nails falling to his back and scratching gently as his shirt, almost instinctually.

“need you.” he whimpers, swiftly picking you up and carrying you across the room, effortlessly tossing you on the couch before he falls on top of you, his crotch zeroing in on yours as his movements build in intensity.

“you made it so damn hard to forget you.” his voice shakes as he leans down into your ear, each word coming out in a desperate gasp as he tangles himself between your legs. your hands quickly fall to the hem of his pants as you tug gently, silently signaling for him to take them off, to which he obliges, removing his shirt as well in the process.

it was like seeing him for the first time, bare in front of you, sweat glistening on his forehead, cheeks flushed. it was more than you could’ve ever asked for, it was worth every cigarette, every tear, every lonely night.

you feel his fingers fall to your panties, pushing them to the side gently as he inspects your cunt feverishly.

“so wet and warm, just how i remembered it.” his breaths are shallow and quick as he strokes your folds gently before carefully aligning his cock at your entrance. his gaze shifts from your bodies up to your face, carefully examining your features, awaiting for your confirmation, but you’re only able to respond by bucking your hips forward with a gentle whine.

you watch as his features soften, the corners of his lips turning up into a gentle smile, a smile of familiarity as he places gentle, reassuring strokes on your thighs, and leaning down to whisper sweet nothings to you as he engulfs your mouth into another hot kiss, pushing his hips up with ease as he stretches you out.

the sting is long and rough, worse than you remembered, and it’s obvious that he’s affected by your tightness, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he whimpers, falling victim to your cunt’s subtle praise.

“god you make me crazy, i just can’t resist you.” his voice is filled with desperation as he bottoms out inside of you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he struggles to hold himself in place, allowing you the time to adjust.

you moan out at the feeling of his tip nudging against your g-spot, he always fit inside of you so perfectly, but you knew how needy he became when he wasn’t able to move immediately after entering you. one of the subtle sides to his unspoken submission for you.

“please. please let me move.” he begs, each word coming out in a desperate gasp as his hips gentle twitch and flick against you, his body filled with an overwhelming heat.

“go ahead, baby.”

at the sound of your words he immediately falls on a quick but gentle pace. his hips rolling into you perfectly as he watches your face contort with pleasure and desire. he was completely at your mercy, he had never been so desperate to see you cum, the way your face lights up and your eyes roll back into your head. it’s all he’s been able to think about since the day he left, and he wanted nothing more than to bring you to the edge over and over again, until your body has had enough.

“fuck i missed you so much.” he groans out, his body melting into yours completely as he sets on a steady pace, the head of his cock perfectly brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. you can’t control the way your hands lose their place, bouncing from his perfect hair, to leaving crescent shaped marks on his back, to his ink scattered arms.

you’re a moaning mess, his every move perfectly aligning within you, as if your bodies were made for one another. you could feel the intensity in the room shift the moment his eyes laid on yours, staring deep into your soul as he quickly snaps his hips back, your walls constricting at the sudden force, causing a dark chuckle to leave his mouth.

“forgot you liked it rough, baby. forgive me i want to savor this as long as i can. you look so perfect right now.” his voice is dark and raspy as he slows his thrusts, bringing a hand down to slowly circle your clit, the touch sending shivers through your spine as you toss your head back, releasing a guttural moan. he hadn’t touched you in so long, you hadn’t felt him in so long, and the way he was making you feel could only be described as euphoric.

“there you go, baby.” his praises only spur you on more as you bring your hips up to meet his, your bodies moving in perfect synchronicity.

“i’m hopeless, baby. hopelessly yours.”

“keep going, that’s a girl.”

“god i’m addicted you.”

“you’re so beautiful, it’s torture.”

every word, every phrase spilling from his mouth go in one ear and out the other. all you can think about is how perfectly his cock slides in and out of you, the sounds of your wetness mixed with the now distant pattering of rain and his quick breaths all you can hear as you feel a coil build in your stomach. you wanted nothing more than to cum on him, to watch his face twist as your walls tighten around him, to moan his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. he was yours, and you were his.

jungkook looks down at you, watching as your eyes clench shut, your lack of response only telling him one thing; you were close.

“sweet girl-“ he mutters, pulling his cock out of you and bringing an arm under your back to quickly flip you over, your stomach consumed with the warmth of the bed as he easily slips back inside, his breath hot against your neck. “i’m desperate to see you cum.” his pace quickens, his voice shaky as he begins to fuck into you faster now, watching closely as your constricting hole tugs him back in with each thrust.

your head is spinning, your body on fire, the feeling only intensifying as he reaches forward, gently tapping his fingers on your mouth as you engulf them fully, tasing the sweetness of your slick mixed with his precum. he curls his fingers, flattening them on your tongue as he draws them over your chin landing on your neck to grip it tightly. a finger on either side of your throat carefully cutting off your breathing as you feel your stomach tighten.

“cum for me pretty girl.“ his words linger in the air as you feel yourself get drawn towards the edge, hurtling over it before you have time to think. your legs shake as you feel a wave of bliss wash over you, your mind going blank as you feel your cunt gush around him.

jungkook watches intently, his thrusts becoming messy as he feels you tighten around him, his cock stalling within you as he relishes in the sensation.

“fuck.”

his hips falter as he tries to fall back to his original pace, fighting against your sealed walls.

you moan out loudly, causing him to quickly remove his hand around your neck and place gentle kisses along your back, his touch soothing any pain that may have occurred.

“shhh, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you.” your body doesn’t even process the overstimulation because you’re stuck on a high. you didn’t care that it burned, that it was practically unbearable, because it was all for him.

he brings a hand up to your hair, gripping it tightly as his thrusts deepen and increase in speed. his high not far behind yours as you silently pray for him to stay inside you, for him to coat your walls and tie you down, make you his forever.

“god you drive me insane. you have me wrapped around your finger, baby.” the head of his cock hits places inside you you never knew were reachable as he becomes frantic behind you, his body hot to the touch.

“gonna fill you up, baby. you’re never leaving me again.”

and just like that, you finally feel like your life is filled with a sense of light again. whether it be from the brightness of his cum leaking from your cunt, or from the lighter as he brings it up to your lips, carefully igniting the cigarette placed between them.

your eyes flick at him next to you, a sheet of sweat covering his body as he pulls the lighter away. you inhale deeply as you feel the smoke fill your lungs, but it doesn’t feel bitter this time, in fact, it’s rather peaceful.

you exhale, watching as the smoke fills the air between you as you bring the cigarette between his lips, watching his eyes shut in bliss as he fills his lungs with the same sensation.

“you’re pretty when you smoke.” he says as he breathes out, admiring the way your chest heaves gently.

“i learned from the best.”

[wingedhallows]

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 southern/cowgirl!vi x sweet little housewife reader ⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 none ⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 On a sunbaked afternoon at the ranch, Vi runs the stables with a steady hand and a sharp tongue—until her sweet wife drifts across the yard with biscuits, lemonade, and a smile like salvation. But when one of the ranch hands mouths off with more bitterness than brains, Vi doesn’t hesitate to remind him—and everyone else—exactly who her wife is and what she deserves. ⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 YOO!! here's the 600 followers post! This is pure fluff & i'm so down for southern!vi, it's not even funny. got me kicking my feet and all!! i hope u like it as much as i do :)

♡︎ 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡︎

Vi stood tall in the warm afternoon light, one hand perched on her hip, the other draped easy over the sun-bleached fence.

Sweat glistened on her boys’ foreheads as they worked the stables, muscles straining, boots kicking up dry earth. She watched with quiet command, every inch the boss, but calm as still water.

Then, the screen door gave a familiar creak—soft, almost shy—and there you were.

Gliding across the yard like a breeze on a blistering day, your sundress catching the sunlight, swaying around your knees like it had a rhythm all its own.

You carried a tray balanced just right, an offering of cold beers, fresh-squeezed lemonade, and golden biscuits still warm beneath a folded tea towel. You looked like somethin’ out of a daydream, soft and steady, the kind of sight that made folks stop what they were doin’.

“Break time,” you called out, your voice all sugar and sunshine, light enough to melt even the hardest day.

A ripple of gratitude moved through the hands like wind through wheat. Cowboy hats tilted in your direction, rough voices murmured their thanks, and tired smiles cracked open like thunderclouds breaking.

Vi watched you with a pride so big it swelled in her chest, knocking around behind her ribs like a drumbeat. Lord, the way you moved through her world—gentle but strong, kind but not to be underestimated—it took her breath clean away.

That is, until a low mutter broke the spell.

“Must be nice,” one of the younger hands grumbled, the words sharp with spite. “Get to sit in the cool house all day while the rest of us work our asses off.”

Vi’s head turned. Slow. Deliberate.

The warmth in her expression vanished, her jaw setting like stone, a muscle ticking as her eyes locked on the boy.

“Say that again?” she asked, her voice molasses-thick, but with an edge like broken glass.

The boy straightened up fast, eyes wide now, realizing he’d stepped somewhere he shouldn’t. “I just meant—”

“You meant nothin’ but trouble, runnin’ your mouth about my wife,” Vi snapped, stepping forward, boots crunching the dirt like punctuation.

“That woman’s been up since sunrise. Bakes with her bare hands, irons every shirt on this damn ranch, keeps that house cleaner than a prayer, and still makes time to come out here and bring your ungrateful ass a cold drink.”

You blinked, a little stunned, heart thudding at the sudden rise in heat. But Vi turned to you then, and her face softened like the sun slipping behind a cloud.

“Go on, baby. Head back inside. I’ll handle the rest.”

And so you did—cheeks flushed, pride blooming in your chest like a rose in high summer.

Behind you, Vi’s voice curled back around that foolish boy, low and smoky, wrapped in iron.

“Next time you speak on her,” she said, calm as a loaded gun, “you better put some damn respect in it.”

The house was cooler inside, but not by much—just enough to take the edge off the heat.

You set the tray down on the counter, hands still a little shaky, though you weren’t sure if it was from the sun or the way Vi had stood up for you like that, fierce and fearless.

You were rinsing out some lemonade glasses when the screen door creaked again, slow and easy this time. Vi stepped in, wiping her hands on a rag, her shoulders loose now, tension gone with the dust outside.

She crossed the kitchen in a few strides, and before you could turn fully, her arms were sliding around your waist from behind, forehead pressed to the crook of your neck.

“You okay, baby?” she murmured, her voice warm and low.

You nodded, but your breath hitched a little. “Didn’t mean to stir up trouble…”

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her hand lifting to gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Her eyes were soft now, not a single trace of the fire she’d shown out there—just that steady, grounding kind of love she saved just for you.

“Hey. You didn’t stir nothin’,” she said. “That boy’s mouth did the stirrin’. You just walked out there lookin’ like heaven on a hot day, bringin’ biscuits and sweetness like you always do. And no one—no one—gets to talk about you like you’re anything less than what you are.”

You felt your lip wobble and blinked fast.

Vi smiled, small but sure, and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “You're the heart of this whole place, sugar. They just don’t see it ‘cause they’re too busy lookin’ at the dust on their boots. But I see it. Every damn day.”

You turned then, wrapping your arms around her, pressing your face into her shoulder as her hands rubbed slow, soothing circles across your back.

And in the hush of the kitchen, with the cicadas singing outside and Vi’s breath steady in your ear, you felt the kind of safe that only comes from bein’ known—and protected—down to your bones.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

---------------------------

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos. 

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land. 

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you. 

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

-----------------------------

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck. 

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable. 

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

-----------------------------

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually. 

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

---------------------------

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[p1astr81]

the cove

In which: you and Oscar start your own restaurant, navigating the troubles of the unknown territory and the relationship between you. (au)

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

warnings: references to sex, no actual smut, use of y/n (once), lots of time jumps, bit of angst, fluff, more plot than romance lowkey

wc: 5.1k

an: I just rewatched the bear and can’t stop thinking about it so here I am

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ * ‧₊˚ ‧

Milk crates were flipped upside down, making use of themselves as chairs for you and Oscar to sit on during your break. It was rare you ever saw a break—let alone a collective one—but it was a Wednesday night and the restaurant was seeing few customers.

“God, I smell like oil.” You grimaced.

Oscar laughed, leaving a beat of silence between you before speaking. “We should start our own place.” He suggested, his voice quiet, fearing your reply.

At first, you laughed. A loud, mocking laugh. But his face told you that he was serious. “Come on, Os. Be serious. Where would we get the money? I mean,” you scoffed, “we can hardly get by living off both of our wages.”

Oscar bit his lip, eyeing his polished black shoes. He knew you wouldn’t like his next suggestion. “You could always ask aunt Audrey.”

It was a known fact that your aunt Audrey was loaded with cash. With no kids, a rich husband, and rich herself, how could she not be? But she always offered you money whenever she got the chance. You declined every time. You weren’t going to be her charity work.

You shook your head. “Im not asking her.” You said with finality.

“Why not?! We could make something—be something!” He tried to bargain.

You got to your feet, walking away from him.

“Just think about it. You and me, a brilliant fucking restaurant that we built.”

Head shaking once more, you turned to face him. “I’ll owe her for the rest of my life. Do you realize that?”

He stuttered for an answer.

“I don’t want that.”

Oscar blinked, nodding. “Yeah. It was just a stupid daydream anyway.” He kicked a pile of trash, threw the door open, and disappeared into the kitchen.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Oscar had found sleep long ago, peacefully wiped out beside you.

You struggled to join him in the state. His ambitions plagued your mind. You felt like you were disappointing him with your rejection.

You turned over in bed, facing Oscar now. Even in sleep, you felt guilty about rejecting his proposal. He was so passionate about it.

Being shackled by the debt you’d owe to aunt Audrey was less than a desire for you. The longer you stared at Oscar, though, the less and less you felt bad about it.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Before work the next day, you’d told Oscar you were going out to run some errands. A bold faced lie.

Aunt Audrey answered the door after a long few seconds. It gave you plenty of time to run if you wanted, but the image of Oscar’s disappointed expression flashed in your brain, rooting you to the ground.

“Oh my gosh! I wasn’t expecting you!” She gushed upon opening the door. Her arms were around you in an instant, pulling you into her mansion of a house.

“Hey aunt Audrey,” you greeted.

She detected the way your voice wavered, and decided to ignore it for now. The both of you ended up in the garden, sat around a fire pit. “How are you, love? Has that Oscar asked you out yet?”

You laughed. “No, we’re just friends.”

She cocked her head, eyeing you with a suspicious expression. “That’s what Nick”—her husband—“said about us, too. No we’re married.”

You shook your head, an awkward laugh. “No it’s not like that, I promise.”

“Alright…” she trailed off, the tone of her voice indicating that she didn’t really believe you.

You shifted in your seat. “Well, he’s actually kind of why I’m here.”

Audrey perked up in her seat, brows raising.

“He brought up yesterday—last night, while we were on our break, actually—that, uhm…” you fiddled with your hands in your lap. “well he thinks that we should start our own restaurant.”

“Oh that’s exciting!”

You forced a laugh. “Yeah uhm but, well, neither of us have the funds and I hate to ask you but uhm…” you shifted in your seat once more. “Would you be interested in helping… financially? Uhm, we’ll pay you back in full, along with whatever interest you want to add on, and uh, we can give you some of the profit. Twenty five percent, maybe?”

Audrey smiled. “Of course I’ll help you out! Oh, this is so exciting, I’m so happy you decided to ask me!” She beamed, jumping up to hug you.

“Thank you.” You smiled, though it pained you.

She took up her seat again. “So how much are you thinking? Just so I can make sure I don’t buy too many bags.” It was meant to be a joke, but it made you feel more guilty.

“Well, we’ll need to buy a place first, then all the utilities and equipment and the stuff for the dining room and…” you didn’t realize just how much you’d need from her until now. “You know what, forget about it.” You waived a hand through the air. She frowned “it’s a stupid day dream. Not really realistic now that I’m thinking about it.”

You went to leave, but your aunt grasped hold of your hand. “Hon, I have so much money that’s just sitting around. Please I want you to use it.”

She directed you back to your seat. “It’ll probably be close to a million.”

All she did was nod. “As long as I get to be involved, you can have as much as you want.”

A smile was forced on your face. “Okay. I’ll get someone to write up a contract. Just let me know how much interest you want to put on it, and does 25 percent of the profit sound good?”

She looked at you like you had five heads. “Interest? And a fourth of your profit? Honey, as long as you pay it all back, I’m fine. We don’t need a contract.” She shook her head.

Damn her and her generosity. The guilt weighed heavier on your shoulders with every word she spoke. But who were you to argue with her and risk her withdrawing from the deal.

So you nodded, “okay,” you agreed.

You cant recall a time you ever saw Audrey smile quite so large. “How about some lunch?”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

That very same night, Oscar and yourself sat around your coffee table—a dining table wasn’t in your budget—eating the left over food that customers didn’t bother to pick up from the restaurant.

Oscar seemed especially down today. You didn’t doubt that it was due to you shutting down his idea the day prior.

You called his name softly and he looked to you with his brown eyes blown wide in interest. “I went to talk to aunt Audrey today.”

He dropped his fork. “What do you mean?” He urged.

“She’s agreed to help us with the restaurant.” You didn’t meet his eyes.

Oscar gave a quiet gasp. “But you said…” he shook his head.

“I know.”

“Well, I mean, are you sure about this?” He was hesitant to ask the question.

You took a shaky deep breath. “Yeah. She agreed to give us as much as we need.”

“This is amazing.” Oscar beamed, rounding the table to hug you.

Your nod put him off. Not quite convinced you were happy about this. “This is amazing, right?” He asked, a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Your strained smile did little to ease him, but he didn’t push it any further.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your free time disappeared, dropping to nothing. The hours not spent at work, we’re spent shopping around for a place that fit both of your visions. Most were either too small or not in an ideal location.

That was, until after a week and a half of searching, you found it.

The realtor stood at the door, allowing Oscar and yourself to enter before her. You stepped in first, glancing around the space, stunned at what your eyes laid on. You gasped, gaze finding Oscar’s after having done a 360 of the space. “Oh, Oscar, it’s perfect.” You smile was infectious.

He hadn’t seen you this happy in months. “Yeah?” He asked, slowly moving to join you at the center of the room.

You nodded profusely. “Yeah.” You confirmed. “How much did you say this one was?” You turned to the realtor.

“200k.” She answered simply. Your smile dropped, and following up quickly by saying, “but we could try and negotiate with the buyer to lower it.”

You nodded slowly.

Oscar didn’t have to ask you to know what you were thinking. The value of aunt Audrey’s money captivated your mind once more, as it had many times since beginning this journey.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

While the carpenters built a new wall to separate the kitchen from the dining room, you and Oscar got to painting. Most of the walls were coated in a light blueish-white. Except the back wall where the bar would sit against, which was being painted in a deep blue color.

Oscar dipped the paint brush back into the paint. He swiped it along the baseboards, careful to not paint them. The light wooden shade would go well with their plans for the dining room furniture.

The brush was dipped back into the bucket of paint. Too much paint. Oscar tried to shake it off. Good thing you set plastic down to protect the floors. The paint went everywhere, including on your face. A pale blue streak across your cheek.

“Oscar.” You called his name. Your tone questioned his audacity.

He looked up at you in curiosity. He tried, and failed, to hold back his chuckles.

“Oh you think this is funny do you?”

He broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

The pads of your fingers swiped across your cheek, collecting the paint. Your fingertips met his face, painting his face in a smear of the blue-white color.

He was no longer laughing, staring at you with his jaw dropped.

“Not so funny now, huh?” You replied, smug as ever, a smile of vengeance playing on your lips.

Blue paint from the can met Oscar’s finger, a purposeful gesture. The look he gave you was devious.

He stood, drawing closer towards you like a lion hunting down his pray. You held up a hand. “Don’t you dare.” His advances didn’t stop at your warning.

Cautiously, you backed away, careful of the paint cans that littered the floor. “Oscar don’t!” He chuckled, finger missing your face by mere inches. You ran for it, but he was faster.

His unpainted hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you into his chest. You tried to squirm away, but his arm around your waist held you in place. He laughed at your objections while he drew a tiny heart on your cheek. It tickled, drawing a giggle out of you.

With the proximity, you could see every detail of Oscar’s eyes; the streaks of gold that threaded through the brown and green. Mesmerized, lost in the way they shined when the rays of sunlight hit them just right.

He cleared his throat, reluctant to release you from his hold. “We should probably clean up. Gotta be at work in less than an hour.”

You nodded, tucking your hair behind your ears and stepping away.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It had been a month since Oscar and yourself began flipping the barren building into your own restaurant. It was coming together. The bar was built, walls put in place. The furnishings were all that was left.

As you were preparing a dish, you overheard two of your coworkers.

“Did you hear about that new place that’s opening soon over on everlake street?”

“Yeah, lucky bastards. Probably rich fucks who couldn’t care less about the food.”

You met Oscar’s eyes across the preparation table. He could tell you were uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to pick up from the way you shifted on your feet, and the way your eyes flicked around the room.

“I feel like I’m a shit person.” You confessed in a hushed voice later that night, sitting next to him in bed.

Oscar sighed, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. “If this is about what we heard earlier-“

“Not just them.” You interrupted. “But with aunt Audrey, too.” Your fingertips drew shapes on the back of his hand.

“Audrey is so happy for you. Why would she make you feel like a shit person?” Oscar leaned forward, observing your face fully.

You bowed your head. “You know how my parents put me through culinary school?”

Oscar nodded.

“Well, they resented me for it. Told me I was a waste of their hard earned money.” You shook your head, scoffing a laugh. “I don’t want the same to happen with aunt Audrey.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

“Hey Aunt Audrey!” You greeted her with a hug.

Another month had passed. The dining room was all put together. Boxes of alcohol sat at the bar. The kitchen was still coming together. The preparation table was really the only thing that was done back there.

“Wow it’s looking fantastic, honey.” She beamed, glancing around the room. It was the first time she came in.

You followed her journey to the kitchen. “You think?” You asked as she pushed open the door.

“Absolutely, love. Best investment ever.”

The sound of Audrey’s voice alerted Oscar, who had been overseeing the installation of the ovens. “Aunt Audrey,” he smiled, greeting her with a hug just as you had. When he pulled away, he went and stood beside you, an arm coming up to rest around your shoulders.

“What are you going to name the place?” She questioned.

You and Oscar exchanged a look. You shrugged. “We’re not sure yet.”

Audrey waved a hand through the air. “No matter. I’m sure whatever it is will be excellent.”

“Hey, there’s a guy out front who needs your signature.” One of the maintenance guys informed.

You nodded and excused yourself from Oscar and Audrey.

Oscar’s eyes lingered on you until you were no longer in his view.

“I’m so happy you guys are doing something good with all of that money. I was worried I would just carry it all to the grave.” Audrey laughed.

Oscar sighed. “Yeah. She feels guilty about borrowing it all.” His gaze drifted to the door you exited from moments ago.

A frown replaced Audrey’s soft smile. “Is that why she was insisting paying me interest? And giving me a fourth of the profit?”

The new information caused Oscar’s eyes to blow wide in shock. “I suppose so, yes.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Oscar and yourself put in your two weeks. The restaurant was near done. The only thing left was to get all of your food for a test run with family and close friends.

Well that, and deciding on a name.

“How about we name it something fancy? Y’know maybe it’ll make people want to come in then?” Oscar suggested. You’d been lying side by side on your living room floor for the past hour, throwing name ideas out there.

You hummed, an idea sparking in your brain. “Maybe we name it after aunt Audrey.” You suggested. You twisted your head to face him.

He did the same.

Your faces were so close. Each time one of you exhaled, the other could feel the heat of their breath. You could see every little detail of his face. How deep his dimples were. And that same golden glow of his eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Oscar’s eyes had trailed down to your lips. The plush pinkness of them enticed him. It was like a magnet, drawing him closer to you without his knowledge.

He froze when he realized his advancements, and receded back to a safe distance. He gazed at the ceiling once more. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” His quiet words weighed heavy with the burden of his heart.

You laughed. A sweet noise to his ears. Like a liquid sugar. “I don’t think that’s what we were talking about.”

“No, yeah, duh.” Oscar breathed out a laugh. “Naming it after Audrey would be nice.”

The silence stretched, both of your thoughts being the reason for the lack of communication.

Though, your minds were on different topics. Yours—on topic of conversation—was focused on creating a name that would reference your aunt. Audrey’s? No, it doesn’t sound right. Too basic. What about using her last name?

Oscar’s thoughts were far from on topic. Instead of Audrey coursing through his mind, it was you.

“The cove.” You spoke, breaking Oscar from his daydreams.

“Her last name. Audrey Cove. The cove.” You explained.

Oscar smiled and nodded.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Opening night. The first display of your restaurant, serving your families and close friends.

You stayed in the kitchen, calling plates and managing the rest of the cooks. The best you could find.

Oscar was on the host stand, greeting your families and taking in all the praise for starting his own place. He was the more hospitable one.

The response was overwhelmingly positive from all those who came. You got in your head about it, though, insisting it was only because they were family. They were just being polite.

You didn’t see their faces when they tasted the food, though. Oscar did. He could tell their positive feedback was genuine. After all, visual reactions were always more reliable than verbal ones.

Audrey stayed longer than everyone else, tears welling in her eyes as she congratulated the both of you.

You and Oscar remained long after everyone had left. The dining room was dark. Only half the kitchen lights remained illuminated. You were both sat on the preparation table. Your topic of conversation was dependent on the future of the restaurant.

“So, Audrey told me something.” He began. You raised a brow at him, enticing him to continue. “She said you were pushing for interest on the loan, and that you offered a fourth of the restaurant’s profits.” The information was factual, but he spoke like it was a question.

You hung your head. “Yeah.” You confirmed.

“Why would you do that?” His tone indicated stupidity on your behalf. “We don’t have the funds for that. And even when we get started, we won’t have those funds for at least a year out!” He raised his voice in frustration. He couldn’t wrap his head around why you would want to plunge the both of you into a large gaping hole of debt.

“Don’t yell at me! You know exactly why I did what I did.” You shook your head. “I only went to her for you anyway. Just so I could help you make your stupid dream a reality.” You spit the words out at him, jumping from the counter and storming out to the dining room.

He called after you. You didn’t answer. He followed you out of the kitchen. “Don’t make this my fault. I didn’t force you to go to her.”

“Of course you didn’t! But I did this for you because I figured…” your breaths were erratic. “Y’know I figured…” you shook your head. “Forget it.” You blinked away the tears forming on your waterline.

You tried to leave, but Oscar caught hold of your arm. His grip wasn’t letting up any time soon, keeping you in place. “Figured what?” He asked, tentative and gentle.

Facing the ceiling, you tried to will this situation away, silently praying to the heavens to get you out of his.

Oscar’s hand slid down your arm, holding your hand in his. He gave it a squeeze. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” He paused. “I’m your best friend.”

A shaky breath was sucked into your lungs. “That’s exactly the point.” You confessed in a mere whisper.

“What?” Oscar asked. He heard you, but didn’t understand.

You built up the courage to meet his gaze. “I figured if I did all of this for you, that you would…” you took a deep breath. He was patient. “You would see me as more than a friend.”

The streetlights outside bathed his face in an orange glow, allowing you to see the shift in his expression. Eyebrows lifted, mouth agape, eyes widened. You knew you messed up when he dropped his hand from yours.

He cursed under his breath, taking a step back.

A nasty feeling brewed in your stomach. Bile threatened to inch it’s way up your throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head, trying your best to hold back tears. It’s like you could physically see him slipping through your fingers.

Oscar’s head was in his hands, refusing to meet your eyes. The further he withdrew into the restaurant, the more the orange glow faded from his figure. Like a visual representation of him fading away from you.

“Just forget I said anything, please.” You begged.

He looked at you like you were crazy.

“How long? How long have you felt like that and not told me?” His tone demanded an answer.

You shook your head, trying desperately to recall a time. You couldn’t. “I don’t know. Awhile.”

He cursed again.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin our friendship and everything we’ve built, please just forget about it.” The tears began to roll in silent streams. Your fear of losing him becoming too close to reality.

Oscar didn’t say anything. You were drowning in his silence. “I don’t want to be friends.” He shook his head. His words was the water filling your lungs.

You choked on your sobs. The sound seemed to flip a switch in Oscar. Suddenly, through the blurry tears, you could see him standing right in front of you. “Fuck, don’t cry.” He wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He started. “I meant,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “God, I fell for you the first time I laid eyes on you. Stupid cliche, but I never believed in love at first sight until them.” Finally confessing his truth, Oscar felt lighter.

You gasped a laugh.

“I never told you because I couldn’t bare the thought of rejection. Of losing you. It’s driven me crazy for years.” Oscar’s palms were warm against your cheeks.

“Years.” You sighed out.

He nodded, a stupid grin on his face.

Your hands pushed his hair out of his face, settling at the base of his neck.

Oscar went for it, dipping his head to finally feel your plush pink lips against his. And it was as close to heaven on earth as he’d ever get. It was inexplicably wonderful.

Years of built up tension snapped in that moment. You pulled him closer, heavy breaths exchanged through open mouths as the kiss became heated. He backed you up into a table, lifting you up to sit you on the surface.

His hands dug into your thighs while yours dipped underneath his button-up. He sighed into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers tracing the grooves of his toned body.

You pulled back; Oscar’s lips chased yours. “Probably shouldn’t have sex where our customers are going to eat.” You laughed, breathless.

Oscar nodded, chest heaving. “Yeah. Let’s get home.” He grinned.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Three months after your official opening, you’d wracked in a good amount of customers. The dining room was packed each night. The reviews were excellent.

Oscar burst into the kitchen one night, during rush. You knew it was important. “Jean Flavia is here.” He whispered in your ear.

Jean Flavia. An esteemed critic. In your restaurant. Your breaths came sporadically. Eyes darting around the kitchen. Blinking a million times in a minute.

Oscar placed his hand on the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles there. “It’ll be alright.”

You nodded, though the movement wasn’t done out of a conscious effort. “Okay. Get his order. I’ll cook it personally.” You scribbled his name down on a post it, all caps and a few exclamation points. You placed the little blue paper on one of the tables displayed on your whiteboard with the guidance of Oscar’s finger.

“Sadie,” you called one of your other chefs. She’d just sent out a dish. She was the only one who wasn’t currently occupied.

She was at your side in an instant. “Yes, chef?”

“Take over, will you?” You asked, already drawing away from the stand.

“Yes, chef.”

Oscar came back through the kitchen, making a direct line to you to deliver the order to you. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Oscar could tell. He squeezed your shoulder. “You’re an incredible cook. Just pretend it’s for any old customer.” His encouraging smile settled your nerves a little.

His presence was gone from the kitchen as soon as it came.

You took a deep breath, gathering yourself before you began.

The dish was simple enough. Beef tenderloin, grilled asparagus and roasted potatoes. It wasn’t anything wildly outside your comfort zone.

But as you started on the asparagus, fear of failure crept up on you. If you messed up, it wouldn’t only hurt you, but also Oscar. You didn’t want to hurt Oscar.

The tenderloin was tossed on a skillet beside the asparagus.

“How’s it going?” Oscars voice in your ear startled you.

“Please help me.” You weren’t ashamed to ask. Not when the establishment itself was at risk.

He jumped in as soon as you asked him, taking the reigns on the tenderloin. He was always better at cooking the meats compared to you.

All three components of the dish were completed at the same time. You shooed Oscar back to the floor, leaving you to plate the dish.

It was the most perfect dish you’d ever plated.

You handed it off to one of the waiters, following the young boy out to the floor. You found Oscar quickly, stood by the host stand. You went to join him.

The concern radiated off of you in overwhelming amounts. It was starting to infect Oscar.

His warm hand found the small of your back, thumb brushing in soothing circles.

You tried your best not to look like a stalker, but you couldn’t afford to miss Jean’s reaction. You watched intently as he cut into the beef, and as he brought the fork to his lips.

And after all that, he had no visible reaction. He simply scribbled some words down on a notepad and continued to go about eating his meal.

“What do you think that means?” You asked Oscar, hushed whispers.

“I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.” He sighed.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It was before hours, ten in the morning. Oscar was sat in the office when you returned with mail, shouting his name as soon as you set foot in the building.

He greeted you with a small, nervous smile. “Is that it?” He asked, glancing down at the newsletter in your hand. You nodded eagerly. “Well, let’s read it.”

The title of it was put simply. The name of your restaurant.

The Cove

While the name may lead customers to believe this is another bland seafood restaurant, it is much more than that.

The menu features a wide variety of flavors and options—something for everyone.

What is certainly more interesting, though, is the food itself.

I had the pleasure of receiving a meal cooked by the founders themselves, a young y/n l/n and Oscar Piastri, and I must say they have talent in the field.

The tenderloin lived up to its name, tender from the very first bite. The beef was mouthwatering, a perfect blend of seasoning to complement its natural flavors.

The vegetables were just as good. I don’t think I’ve ever had such delectable grilled asparagus and roasted spring potatoes.

Every bite of the meal was as good as it’s predecessors. It never fell flat for me, and I find that very hard to come by.

It would be foolish of me to call the food anything except for excellent. These two young chefs really know the art of the trade.

You gasped upon finishing reading, looking up at Oscar with a glimmer in your eye. “We’re excellent!” You cheered, jumping into his arms. You laughed as he twirled you around.

“I’m gonna bake a cake.” You declared when he put you down. You landed a peck on his lips, and he watched with a smile as you skipped off to the fridge.

While you baked, Oscar stood close, clingy as ever. He always had a hand on you in some way. Whether it was overtop one of yours, on the small of your back, or hugging you from behind. He was simply too happy to distance himself.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It’d been a month since the review was published. Reservations were booked out for months. You cried when Oscar told you, too happy to contain it.

You laid in his arms one night, watching ratatouille for the eighteenth time. “I miss cooking.” You confessed. Since the opening of the restaurant, you’d been in a manager position. The last time you cooked a dish was for Flavia.

Oscar’s arms tightened around you. “I’ve been thinking… desserts would be a good addition to the menu.”

Inclining your head to look up at him, Oscar could see the sparkle of passion in your eyes. “Are you saying…?” The smile stretched across your face made the muscles ache. You didn’t care.

“I can’t think of a better baker around.” He replied.

Twisting around him, you straddled his hips, dipping to slot your lips together. Oscar laughed into the kiss.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Two years since opening.

Aunt Audrey refused to take any more money after you paid a fourth of it back. The only thing she wanted was a guaranteed table whatever night she wanted. Her meals were always on the house.

But you did pay back your parents, matching every dollar they put into culinary school.

You and Oscar moved out of your one bedroom apartment, buying a big three bed, three bath house.

There was a shiny rock on your finger, too. A wedding in the planning.

“What do you think? Dark blue? Or the lighter more sky blue?” Squares of fabric were shuffled around the dining room table. You were trying to decide on a color scheme. What color dresses your bridesmaids would wear, and the color of the groomsmen’s suits or ties.

“Why not both? Maybe the bridesmaids can wear the lighter blue and the groomsmen the darker blue?” Oscar suggested.

You tilted your head, thinking it over. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I like that.” You nodded, beaming up a him.

“Perfect.” Oscar muttered against your lips before planting a small kiss on them.

[greedygrotto]

TONIGHT WITH HIM.

Note: I’m not a writer, but couldn’t get this little daydream out of my mind for the last two weeks! Thinly thinly veiled self-indulgent nonsense.

We stumbled into our hotel room, too caught up in each other to notice much outside of us. The air buzzed with excitement. My body hummed, still high from watching him reach heights he’d been aiming towards since he was less than 4 feet tall.

He’d reached the peak of a mountain he’d been staring at his whole life, and I was there to see it. Our bodies told of all the feelings coursing through us both we couldn’t name, I couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this. Somehow watching from the sidelines gave me a burst of adrenaline I’d never felt before. Hearing the crowd of literal thousands cheer for him, seeing the pride in his family’s eyes, watching him finally do the one thing he’d been working towards for so long, it was electric.

He pulled away from me for a second, turning the lights on.

“Damn, babe, what happened in here when I left?” He looked around the room incredulously.

I had to laugh at myself, seeing the notes and books strewn across the floor.

As he’d been working towards his goal, so was I. If I ever wanted to feel anything even close to what I could only imagine he was feeling right now, I had to put in the work, I needed to finish law school. Despite that, this weekend was about him. So I spent the day after he left for work to study. I wanted to be able to completely focus on him when I went to see him.

“Wills and probate law kicking my ass, sorry.” I said bashfully, biting my lip.

“Not possible. You’re the smartest girl in the world, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

He wrapped an arm around me as he said so, kissing my cheek. Just looking down at my notes had anxiety creeping up on me, but feeling him behind me calmed every nerve. He always knew what I needed before even I did. I couldn’t help myself, melting into his embrace. I leaned my head back, resting it on his broad shoulder and looked up into his deep brown eyes; eyes I could drown in.

“Don’t gas me. That’s my job tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, my job to celebrate the champ.”

He grinned wide at me, the light reflecting off his gold grills.

“You gonna be a good girl for me tonight, then?”

“Always.”

He turned me around in his arms to face him, immediately catching my lips with a searing kiss. I lost myself in his embrace, unable to find where he ended and I began.

He tapped my thigh, a request for me to wrap my legs around him. Obedience wasn’t a choice, not with Jey. He lifted me with ease, steady and unwavering. My hands went to the back of his neck, feeling his curls, dry and fluffy now, under my fingers as I nipped at his bottom lip.

My body hummed with need, thighs quivering. Soft met hard as my legs tightened around his hips and abdomen, the muscle underneath hard from all the work he’d relentlessly put in the last few months.

He walked us towards the king size bed, large hands pushing up my shirt. The skin under his touch burned as he traced up my back, before setting me down on the bed and settling between my open legs.

My head swam with the need for him, body ablaze with desire. His appetite for me matched mine for him, pushing him to kiss me hungrily.

His lips followed the length of my jaw, down to my neck, where he sucked at the thin skin, marking me with a bruise. Shallow breaths peppered the silence in the room, as Jey’s lips danced across my skin, now leaving kisses behind my ear, on a tattoo I had just gotten in his honour.

Ever since I’d shown it to him, his fingers traced it lazily, like he had to be sure it was still there. Last night, as we were in the room getting ready for a dinner with his family, I’d called him into the bathroom to help me with a necklace. Knowing he’d notice it as soon as he looked down, I watched him in the mirror. His eyes widened with disbelief, a smile cracking the stoic resting face he generally held. Since that time, as he rested his hand on the back of my neck, in a loose grip, every now and then his fingers grazing over it.

His lips did the same now; I felt his smile against my skin. Pulling away from me then, he sat on his knees, eyes trailing over me through the haze of alcohol and the headiness left over from the night’s celebrations. We’d both knocked back drink after drink in between cheers and laughs with his friends and loved ones. None of that could dull our desire for each other.

Jey’s eyes held a silent command, which I followed without thinking. I pulled off my shirt, revealing myself to him and then shimmied out of my skirt. I giggled at myself, thinking of how silly I must look from his perspective.

He only smiled down at me, heat still simmering off his skin.

“This one of my favourite parts of you.” His fingers trailed across a large, dark birthmark on my stomach.

“That’s your favourite part of my body?” I laughed, eyebrow cocked.

“One of. Couldn’t pick one with a gun to my head.”

He leaned down with that, suckling at the spot right under my jaw. Jey knew my body like he’d sculpted it himself; knew where to kiss to get me to moan, where to bite to pull a breath out of me, just where to touch to get me to come undone.

“Flattery will get you everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” I nodded.

His lips found mine again, his tongue slipping into my mouth. My body hummed with hunger for him, a feeling coursing through me I couldn’t name. I pulled at his clothes, needing to feel more of him against me.

Jey gave me what I needed and pulled his shirt off with ease, throwing it across the room. I couldn’t help but look at him in awe, the way his tanned skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat and black ink spanning over his muscular chest and arms.

I leaned up to drag him down to me, lips ghosting along his chest and neck, tongue darting out for a taste of his salty skin. Again, shallow breaths and light moans escaped my mouth while Jey’s strong hands kneaded at my soft skin. Slowly, his hands trailed lower and lower, edging towards where I needed him the most.

“Jey,” I breathed, “I need-“ the words failed to leave my lips, my brain suddenly too foggy to put a sentence together.

“Yes, baby? Tell Daddy what you want.” he teased, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

How could I tell him what I wanted, when he was looking at me like that? My mouth could barely form full words.

“Daddy, please, I can’t.” I begged now, needing him to make me whole again. “Please baby, I need you.”

His eyes softened at that and he finally sunk his thick fingers into me, scissoring me open for him. My breath caught in my chest as he did, my ears suddenly burning hot from pleasure.

“Fuck baby, so warm,” he sucked a breath in through his teeth, leaning down to kiss me once more, “You’re so tight, I don’t know if I’ll fit.”

No matter how many times we were together like this, he stretched me to my limit. I’d never had anyone make me feel so full, who pushed my body the way he did.

The pleasure coursing through me left me speechless again, only able to form moans and gasps of his name. I bit my lip, trying to quiet myself as his fingers sunk deeper, dancing along parts of me I didn’t know existed before him.

“You’re so good for me baby, look how you’re gripping my fingers. Creaming around me so pretty, should take a picture,” he coos down at me, fingers scissoring inside me.

I nod at him.

“Yeah?” He hums, searching my face for my agreement. This would be far from the first time I’d let him record me, but each time he made sure I wanted him to. As well as he knew me, he’d yet to realise that that all I wanted was to please him. I wanted what he wanted.

I nodded again.

“Yeah. Wanna see me how you see me.” Already I felt my muscles tightening, ready to snap from the relentless pleasure Jey was giving me. He reached for his phone with his free hand, all the while keeping his fingers working at me, thumb rubbing circles on my button.

“So good, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I moaned as I heard the click of the camera. His fingers plunged deeper into me with every thrust, making sure to stretch me open, ready to take him. As he dragged his long fingers out, lingering at my entrance, the knot snapped and pleasure coursed through me as if a dam burst. My thighs quivered again, this time from the effort of my release, a tear escaping my eye and running down my cheek.

“Damn baby, Daddy’s got you crying and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” Jey teased me, slapping at my wet pussy lightly. My chest heaved as I breathed through my orgasm, eyes fluttering closed.

“Uh-uh babe, open those eyes for me. Need you to watch me fuck my babies into you.”

His voice was thick with lust now, breaths deep as he slid his heavy cock back and forth over my lips. His tip would catch my clit, sending pleasure shooting through me, leaving me clenching repeatedly around nothing as he teased.

“Jey, please, stop playing with me,” I begged.

“What’s my name?”

“Baby, please, Jey, I need you inside me.” I cried, feeling empty without him. I wrapped my legs around his hips again, hoping to pull him into me.

“Who’d you need, princess?”

“Daddy, you, I need you to fuck me.”

It had been too long since the last time I had him. His schedule was always hectic, but this was the busiest he’d been in the time I’d known him. Between wrestling, appearances, endorsements, training and his family, there wasn’t much time for us to be intimate. I’d been craving him for months, body crying out for him each time I tried to relieve some frustration myself. Nothing compared to the way this man made me feel.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, “I’ll give you what you need.” He said as he slid into me, stretching me wide to accommodate him.

“Oh,” I breathed “So full, Jey.”

My arms flew up around his neck, gripping him tight. His thick cock filled me up, soothing an ache I’d had for him for months now. Feeling him inside me made me whole again, extinguishing the emptiness. Jey’s lips brushed against my ear as he thrusted slowly, taking his time to take me apart.

“Fuck baby, this pussy’s so tight.” He pulled back, savouring me as I was him. “Squeezing me so good, princess, like you were made for me.”

“I was,” I breathed, straining to meet his lips with mine. The pleasure coursing through me felt almost too much to bear as he fucked me. He got so deep, I could feel him low in my stomach.

“Yeah? This my pussy?”

“Yes, Daddy. It’s yours, I’m yours,” I babbled, thoughts barely cogent as my orgasm grew steadily once more.

That declaration spurred Jey on, hips snapping into me quickly now as he chased our peaks. He knew it was true, I knew it was true. It didn’t need saying, it was palpable. He played my body like an instrument, pulling whatever responses he desired from me instinctively. I belonged to him.

I squeezed around him as he pulled out, mourning the loss of him, even if it was only temporary.

“Oh fuck, baby. Keep gripping me like that.” He said, setting a punishing pace now. His hands squeezed at the softness of my hips, pulling me down to meet him. As skin met skin, my heart beat so hard it could’ve escaped from my chest.

He flipped me over without warning, pushing me onto my hands and knees. My back arched instinctively, presenting myself to him. I felt his eyes burning through me, drinking me in.

“So beautiful,” he praised, “My pretty girl.”

Jey leaned down, pressing hot kisses along my back, taking his time to savour me.

“Baby, please” I begged as my wet pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for his fullness.

“Look at you, begging for me. You need me?”

“I need you.” I hummed, no shame to be found. I did, and he knew it.

He placed one last kiss at the base of my neck before reaching down and leading himself back into me. As he slid back in, we moaned in unison. I rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts with ease.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, throw it back for Daddy.”

His praise spurred me on, lighting a fire in me to satisfy him. All I wanted was to be good for him. Not many people could get this unthinking obedience from me; in truth, nobody else could. But Jey, this man, intense and thoughtful, he commanded my compliance without ever needing to ask for it. I pushed back against him, following his lead, letting him set the rhythm. Our moans grew louder as we edged closer and closer towards total satisfaction. His fingers dug into my hips, branding me with bruises.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” I keened.

“Yeah? Gonna give me another?”

I nodded, unable to articulate what he was doing to me. I lost control, all the muscles in my body contracting from the pleasure.

“Give it to me. Show me how good I’m making you feel,”

At his request, I snapped, another orgasm surging through me with an intensity I couldn’t have imagined. My release spurted out of me, coating my thighs. I felt my legs shake, straining to hold myself up now that my muscles were so loose, my body feeling like jelly.

“That’s it baby. Such a good girl for me, soaking me up.” He praised as he kept his pace up, chasing his own release. I continued to clench around him rhythmically, needing him to meet me where I was, in the glow of orgasm.

His hips snapped against me, seeking depth over speed, pulling aftershocks from me as he did. Jey placed a large hand at the small of my back, light pressure asking for a deeper arch as pistoned into my wetness. Suddenly my vision blurred, as a rope snapped within me yet again, sending sensations through me, leaving me breathless.

“Yes, Jey.” I moaned, slowly rocking back again to meet his thrusts. “Cum for me, Daddy, please.”

He groaned at that, his abs quivering as they met my hips. He was close, I could tell.

“Fill me up baby.” I begged, knowing just what he needed to get there.

“You want Daddy’s nut?” He played along, seconds away from emptying himself into me.

“Uh-huh, please Daddy, give it to me.” I squeezed around him again, this time following a pattern I just knew would bring him to the edge.

Curses and groans from his lips as he came, his load filling me up and dripping from me as he continued to thrust, slowing down. He let himself drop down on me, his weight pinning me to the bed. Our chests rose and fell in unison, bodies spent.

I giggled as he nuzzled into my neck, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Such a good girl,” he rolled over, pulling me with him to straddle him. “Perfect way to celebrate.”

“Oh, we’re not done celebrating yet, champ.”

My hips had a mind of their own, rolling so my wet lips cupped his cock.

He let out a laugh as his eyes closed, chest still heaving.

“We’re gonna have to take a break, baby, your old man needs a minute.” Jey laughed, pushing his hair out of his face.

I leaned down to kiss him, getting carried away by my attraction to him. I couldn’t help myself, he was so handsome. Despite what he’d put himself through earlier in the day, the exhaustion evident on his face, he was divine to me.

“My old man can get whatever he wants.”

I knew he needed to rest. He’d been punishing himself day in and day out for months now, believing his effort needed to match the height of achievement he was aiming for. Jey had gone from working out, to appearances, to meetings, to his match, to the post-show, then on to celebrating for hours and hours, with family and loved ones. He’d been running on fumes for too long, and now it was my job to cater to him.

I got up from the bed, walking towards my bag to pick up a gift I’d been hiding from him all weekend. He whistled as he watched me from his position splayed out on the bed, pulling a laugh out of me. I walked back over to him, sitting on my knees next to him, a long thin black box in my hands. I presented it to him, body humming with the excitement to see him open it.

He pulled the top off, eyebrow quirked. “What’s this, mama?”

“Just a little something.”

He lifted the necklace out from the soft velvet bed, the silver glinting in the low light of the room. A pendant hung low, engraved with the image of Saint Sebastian, patron saint of athletes. A few months back, on a museum date, he’d bought me a little print of the saint, having quietly noticed it was my favourite painting of the day. From that day, I knew what I wanted to get him when he won the heavyweight championship.

“My sweet girl. C’mere, put it on for me.”

I did as he asked, making sure my necklace was visible above his cuban links. Smiling proudly, I got off the bed, grabbing his glistening championship belt, which had been abandoned on the sofa when we first came in. I handed it to him, grinning widely.

“Put it on, baby.”

He laughed at me, but played along, wrapping it around his waist.

“Pose for me, you look so handsome, papa.” I said, from behind the camera. I wanted memories of this night, to savour forever. He smiled at me, giving me a few different poses before he was done for the night.

“Alright na, that’s enough baby, time for bed.” Jey reached up and pulled me back into his chest, settling in to sleep.

My ear against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, I floated into sleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

—

Waking up to use the toilet, I grabbed my phone and uploaded the picture to my Instagram, wanting to share my pride with everyone I cared about. I kept the caption simple; details were for those close to me:

Tonight with my champ.

[sillysowa]

NEEDY

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

WARNINGS: FINGERING, ORAL (FEM RECEIVING), SLIGHT CHOKING, COCKWARMING

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE HELPS HIS OVULATING GIRLFRIEND

—

Hobie was a very observant lover, and he liked to know everything about you—including your menstrual cycle. He likes to have your preferred blood collection items handy incase you need an extra, he likes to know when he should be extra careful on how he treats you when you’re PMS-ing, taking you ever so slightly sweeter—but above all, he likes to know when you’re ovulating…so he can fuck your soul out without you even having to ask.

You were currently cuddled up to him with your head on his chest, watching a random movie in your bed while Hobie toyed with your hair absentmindedly. He was caught up thinking about how you were often very talkative when you’d watch movies, but you were rather quiet today. You kept balling his shirt up under your fist or pinching his clothes between your fingers—or more importantly, softly grinding on his thigh. Hobie knew you were ovulating right now, and he knew that made you incredibly horny all the time, but it also made you so damn fun to mess with.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Hobie’s deep velvety voice penetrated your thoughts as he stared down at the way your fingers traced over his covered chest. His large hand rested on the juncture above your slightly moving hip, holding you close while you hummed,

“Mmm~ Nothing.” You answered quickly, cheek squished against his pec and eyes clouded over.

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Hobie says dismissively, rubbing his hand on your waist, smirking when that slightly catches your attention, your eyes locked on his through your lashes,

“Yeah? And why is that?” You ask, genuinely lost in your fantasy world. You had been daydreaming of Hobie’s cock pumping inside you with his lips on your neck. You craved the feeling of his bare skin, warm and soft on your longing body. You’d kill to pull his boxers down and kiss up and down his length right now, but you felt so strangely nervous.

“Cause you’ve been weakly humping my leg for about 15 minutes now.” He whispers, voice dropping an octave and making your insides squeeze. Your face instantly felt warm—you didn’t realize that in your daydreaming you had started to dry hump your boyfriend. You turned your face fully into his chest and hid it, while he pulled you unbelievably closer,

“Don’t get all shy on me, sweets. If you want me you know you only have to say the word.” He teased, bringing his hand to your chin and gently turning your face up towards his. The soft look in your eyes and steady desperate movement of your hips on his thigh drove him crazy. You whined, glossy eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes,

“Hobie~”

“Yeah I know baby.” He murmurs, leaning down and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He kisses you with passion, grunting and helping you onto your back. One of his hands reaches up to hold onto the headboard while the other holds your jaw, deepening the kiss with your legs opening for him. Hobie breaks the kiss, his large ring covered fingers wandering down towards your neck,

“Is my girl ovulating? Extra needy these past few days.” Hobie smirks, hardening at the sight of your confusion,

“W-How did you know?” You ask through half lidded eyes and pinched brows. Your feet lazily kick on the bed, heels dragging up and down the sheets in desperation. Your pussy throbs.

“I like to know what’s going on with this pretty body of yours.” He says casually, kissing your forehead before he starts removing your shorts. He slides them down your legs and tosses them, fingers exploring your soaked cunt. He moans at the feeling of your arousal, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth before sliding them into you. You moan out desperately, and Hobie instantly notices how tight you feel. He thrusts his fingers at a steady pace, a white ring instantly forming at the base of his fingers where his silver jewelry resides. You’re way more reactive than he’s used to seeing, arching off the bed and clutching at the sheets. His dick is painfully hard in his boxers, but he refuses to pay it any mind until he’s made you cum. He quickens his pace, deep eyes boring into yours from between your legs and forcing your thighs to stay open with his large palm. Your face feels like it’s on fire, and you’re embarrassed to admit that you feel like your about to cum already,

“Hobie~ Ah! H-I’m close~ Mm~”

“Come on love, just like that cum for me, let it out baby, good girl~” Hobie praises with a rasp in his voice. He watches you as you orgasm, bliss coating your features and your fun dripping down from your pussy. He can’t help himself as he leans in, sucking it all up. He lets out a surprised and muffled groan when he feels your hands on his head, pushing his face hard against your cunt. His beautiful eyes flutter closed as he lets you use his warm mouth.

You uncontrollably moan at the sight of your lover’s face pressed against your pussy, only his eyes visible as they roll into the back of his head at your taste. You fuck his face like your life depends on it, crying at the friction of his lips, tongue and nose on your throbbing sex. You momentarily wonder if he can breathe, but all of your worries go out the window when his lips lock around your clit, sucking it like a candy. He grabs your inner thighs, pushing them open and pinning them down while he eats you like he’s been starved of your taste his entire life. Your cries of his name, hands on the back of his head, and broken sounding moans fuel him and his tongue moved faster than you’ve ever felt.

“Hobie~ Hobie! Ah~ Oh yes~ yesyesyesyes-“ You mumble and whine, your fingers gripping onto his hair as you near your unexpected second orgasm. Hobie just grunts and whines at the feeling of being used, his hips grinding into the bed while you moan. He eats you out with passion right up until you cum, when your hands desperately pull him off of you in overstimulation. His face is glistening, mouth parted and chest rising. He smiled,

“Feelin’ good?” He kissed your thigh, locking his fingers in yours. You nodded with your parted lips and pretty fucked-out face—Hobie couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked…so desperate and needy for him. He loved that his fingers and face could make you feel that good, caught on the way you leaked with your own thick cum,

“I know you’ve cum twice now, love, but you can give me another one cant you?” Hobie asked through his thick accent, eyes half lidded while he talked to you but stared at your leaking cunt, gently running his fingers over it and eating up the way you whimper for him.

“Yes, Hobie…just…give me your cock please~ Please fuck me~” You beg, pussy throbbing and eyes watering. You felt horribly empty without Hobie filling you up, and your mouth watered at the bulge in his boxers. He chuckled darkly before reaching down and pulling his long, hard, cock out of his boxers. He wasted no time, stripping nude for you, spreading your legs wide, and lining himself up with your entrance.

“Scream for me, love.” Is all you get before he thrusts into you in one motion, and oh do you scream. Hobie’s dick filling you up punches the air out of your lungs and a noise that comes out you didn’t even know you could possibly make. You clawed at his back, cried out his name, and your cunt squeezed around his cock. You knew sex felt better when you were ovulating, and Hobie knew just as well,

“You like that? You fuckin’ like that? Mmm of course you do—so fucking needy f’me isn’t that right?” He grunts, thrusting his hips against yours like a madman, horny and desperate at the look of his girl so helpless and overstimulated under him. Hobie loved to see you a wreck for him, he’d kill for it if he had to—the sight of your wet cunt sucking him in, the sound of the bed creaking and your skin slapping—it was music to his ears.

He gives your neck a couple squeezes, right in that sweet spot that makes you feel dizzy but oh so good, his other hand on your hip for leverage as he destroys your insides. Hobie slows down for a moment, thrusts hard but slow to hear your pleased whimpers and bask in them,

“Hobie please!~ Im so close! Please! Faster~ Mmm~ You feel so good inside me, Hobie!” You cried, tears brimming down your cheeks as he thrusted into you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You could have sworn you saw the pearly gates from the drag of his cock in you, the sight of his beautiful body on top of you, and the absolute filth that he whispered in your ear as you neared your orgasm,

“I know, love, I know. Cum for me, I know you can.” He grunts in your ear, kissing at your neck and fisting his hands tight into the pillow under your head as he fucks into you with fervor, dying to feel you cum around his cock. You hold him close, ankles locked around him and nails dragging down his back as your walls clench and you orgasm. He brings you to cloud nine and back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you cry and mumble about how good it feels. He delivers a couple more messy thrusts in you before he cums, his cock twitching and moans spilling from his lips. He looks beautiful and feels like a dream. Hobie looks down at you as he starts to pull out, the glossy look in your eyes a tell-tale sign that you’re still deep in sub-space and needy for him,

“Hobie don’t leave~” You whine, pulling him closer and feeling his cock push impossibly deeper inside you as he relaxes and eases onto his side next to you. Hobie smiles at your words,

“I wasn’t going anywhere!” A chuckle leaves his lips,

“You know what I mean Hobie, I want you to keep it in.” You confess, holding him close, that shyness from earlier back. He just smirks devilishly, not opposed to the idea at all,

“I’ve got no problem with that, love, just don’t be too shocked if I get a sudden cravin’ for a round two.”

Spoiler alert, there was way more than a round two.

[machveil]

First things first: *deep inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH So so so so good! Mentally framing my wedding certificates to these silly lil men! Screaming, crying, throwing up, frothing at the mouth, flailing on my beg, kicking my legs and feet! Amaaaaaaazing! Something my daydreams cooked up when I was half-awake this morning: Imagine the rest of TF141 catching Simon on his phone more even during meetings and out in the field, seemingly checking his texts and when possible calling someone regularly, making a point to be away from the guys when talking. When they ask, he answers them casually, dismissing it as him checking in on the house-sitter he hired because of how often he's gone and how he hates coming back to dust and expired food. Naturally, given that Simon is the type to hate anyone in his space, especially someone he doesn't know, the boys (read: Johnny) are very curious. This leads to them (read again: Johnny) sneaking around trying to eavesdrop. Whether or not they catch him sounding softer while he listens to the person on the other side, him humming and chiming in while he goes about scrubbing his boots or inspecting his knives, is up to you. Is the reader actually his house-sitter? Yes, but Simon's also asking how their day was, how they're doing, things that are not even remotely related to his place that he may or may not be letting them stay in full-time because they were living in a shoddy apartment with poor plumbing and bugs and he just can't have that. He thanks them when they say they cleaned the windows, asks if they like that book they mentioned buying last week, how's their latest hobby going, etc. Simon Riley is a domestic man, and anyone arguing otherwise can pry it from my cold, dead hands! -🐸 Also I hope I never make you feel pressured to respond or write something, I just want to share my brainrot

ough, no no, keep them coming lol your brainrot is top tier! in fact, I implore people to send me CoD brainrot - the English student me yearns to write

Someone at Home

it’s normal for someone to make calls - Simon “Ghost” Riley isn’t just someone though. reserved man that he is, isn’t it suspicious that he keeps reaching for his phone? Johnny thinks so CW: gn!reader but Johnny says ‘lass’ once as an assumption, shenanigans

no one notices at first - it starts slow. Ghost’s phone is set to vibrate, his incoming call ringtone is barely audible, but Johnny picks up on it. reserved Lieutenant that he is, for as long as Soap has known Ghost, as long as Johnny has been friends with Simon, Ghost doesn’t pick up calls on base

his new habit caught Soap’s eye, at first just receiving calls, but when Ghost starts calling someone? oh, Soap knows when something is up. “Got a lass at home, L.T., someone keeping ya bed warm?”, it’s teasing, tone lighthearted when Soap asks. it catches him off guard when Ghost looks him dead in the eyes, “Housekeeper. Jus’ checkin’ in, yeah?”, his voice was a little more stern than Soap would have imagined. a housekeeper, huh? he had his doubts, but he’d rather make it a game, try to figure it out for himself

Ghost used to have his phone completely silenced, only rarely turning notifications on when he was on leave - rarely, because even then he might just not feel like it. but now? this supposed housekeeper has Ghost leaving meetings when he can, ditching the gym to go out into the hallway

this housekeeper, apparently Ghost’s flat is high maintenance. daily calls at least once, Soap’s keeping track, most he’s called was five times. Ghost would always brush him off, mumble something about his air conditioner or a door hinge. always so vague, the first month had Soap scratching his stubble trying to piece Ghost’s life together - his life on the other end of that phone

it doesn’t help that Ghost is extremely secretive while texting. phone held down to his lap, his back hunched as he types with both thumbs. it’s very guarded, his gaze locked to his screen. he’s practically dead to the world when he’s doing this, mumbled words leaving his lips when he hears ‘Ghost’ or ‘L.T.’

Johnny tried to hover over his shoulder once, “Who’s that? Ya wee housekeeper, Ghost?”. before he could see anything, Soap let out a startled noise when Ghost’s hand pressed against his face - a quick shove was all it took for him to stumble back. “Mind ya business.”, was all Johnny got from Ghost, voice gruff and low as he turned his phone off

it was so alien to Soap, not the guarded nature of Ghost’s actions, just the fact someone was able to take Ghost’s full attention. and full attention isn’t an understatement, Soap could swear Ghost was smiling under his balaclava. he’s seen the crinkle around his eyes when his phone buzzes, how fast he is to check a notification now

maybe that’s why Soap turns to stealth - tailing Ghost when he steps out into the hall, or standing outside a door to listen to him. sure, Soap can only hear one end of his conversation, but that alone is fascinating. he’s used to Ghost’s gruff voice, a man of few words

but with his housekeeper? Soap’s a little awestruck at how often Ghost— Simon laughs. because, maybe it’s just Soap, but this isn’t the Ghost he’s familiar with, he’s being personable, a tad more talkative. his voice doesn’t carry weight to it, unburdened as he talks into the phone. that’s Simon Riley, a rarity on base

and then he hears Simon refer to them, this supposed housekeeper. “Love— no, I told you. You can’t use the window in the bathroom, it sticks. No, I know— bloody hell, when I get home I’ll fix it.”, ‘love’, such a sweet endearment coming from his low, gravely voice. it has a smirk tugging on Soap’s lips, eyes gleaming with amusement

oh, he’d love to tease Ghost over this. he does have someone keeping his bed warm, someone he cares enough about he’s using pet names. he hears Ghost say his goodbyes, about to turn around and leave when he freezes. “Get a good earful, Johnny?”, Ghost’s voice coming from behind the door, Soap’s shoulders falling

all he can do is sigh and peak into the room, Ghost standing with his arms crossed as Soap sulks in, “Aye, I did, L.T., I did… but I was right.”, he chuckles, walking up to Ghost, “Gonna introduce us to your ‘love’?”

[silverzoomies]

Alone

peter maximoff x reader fluff

warnings: fluff, humor, first meetings, pining, female reader

word count: 3,461

a/n: just a drabble i spent way too long on. based on something i used to daydream about a lot. happy late valentine's day !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Peter sits, slouched on the floor against the foot of a sofa. Glimmers of light flicker in his eyes, as he indulges in some mind numbing television. Reruns of Frasier play stereotypical laugh tracks, droning through the basement. He can’t help but follow suit. Chuckling along in quiet huffs, he shakes his head.

Upstairs, the house rests in silence. Dead quiet. Magda snores softly in her room. Lorna’s probably conked out too. And Wanda? She’s gone. Somewhere. He could never guess. She doesn’t tell anyone where she goes on weeknights. But hey, what’s it matter to him? So long as she’s playing it safe.

Peter snickers at another corny, sitcom joke. He guzzles down handfuls of Reese's pieces. The candies rustle in their small box. But with the rustle, his ears catch something else. Distant and faint. Outside the realm of television laugh tracks and candy clicks.

It’s a lyrical melody, playing with romantic cadence from outside the basement window. Peter tilts his head back, drinking a glass bottle Pepsi. Fizzy sweetness mildly irritates his throat. Raising a brow, he guides his gaze to the window. One more chug of his soda, and he snatches the remote.

The roar of sitcom television falls into stillness.

And sure enough, a tune whispers from beyond the window’s glass. Like the call of a sea siren through the neighborhood. But it’s 10pm on a Tuesday night. And the likelihood of a smokin’ hot siren crawling from the ocean - to a house in middle class suburbia - is beyond impossible. Unless Peter’s dreaming again.

In which case; wait for him, nautical dames. He'll grab his trunks and be out flash.

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won’t end though

Alone

Peter narrows his eyes at the window, scoffing to himself. Woah, now. Is he warped in the head? Or is the mantra of Heart crying out from beyond the shadows? Peter appears at the window in a zip. Raising himself on his toes, he launches his body upward. Through smudged glass, Peter’s black hues scan the world outside. A shadowy mass looms in the grass, imposing and somewhat terrifying.

Until he realizes, it’s someone holding a giant boombox over their head. Phew .

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone

Peter’s silver brows furrow again.

“What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

He unlatches the window, pushing it open. Allowing that unmistakable tune to come through much clearer. Peter watches the mysterious, boombox stranger for a moment longer. A beat passes, and Peter sighs. He could just as easily zip out there, confront the culprit, and return to his basement lickety split. Instead, he opts for the casual approach.

Peter pushes himself through the window, his bare feet scuffing the basement wall. He accidentally kicks over a set of speakers. Some he stole five years ago and forgot about. They tumble off a wall shelf and crash hard onto the floor. Knocking down a bunch of stolen street signs in their wake. If Maximoffs weren’t such deep sleepers, he’d be in for it now. Big time.

As soon as Peter’s out, he stumbles in the grass. Mumbling a hushed - Shit.

You don’t know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Crawling through the dry, winter grass, Peter finally stands. With an exhale, he wipes dirt from his grey sweatpants. The rando in his yard doesn’t react, but they lower the boombox a little. Peter waits at a distance, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Who are you? Whaddya wannnnnt?” He shouts.

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

No response from the rando. With a simple gesture, they tap the speaker of the boombox. Whatever that means. Rolling his eyes, Peter strides across the cold grass. Shirtless in the brisk, February air. He raises a hand to scratch his messy, silver bedhead. As he moves in closer, the neighborhood street lights illuminate the figure’s features.

Up until now, he thought some weirdo guy snuck out to pine for Wanda’s attention. Peter’s ready to kick his ass if he needs to. Poor Wanda’s always got dudes falling to her feet on Valentine's day. But she usually does the ass kicking. More power to her.

Guess he won’t have to this time. Turns out, it’s just some weirdo girl.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

Peter puts a stop to the song before it reaches its end. Extending a hand in a quick blur, he abruptly clicks a button on the box. The neighborhood drowns itself in late night silence all over again. Interrupted only by the occasional car passing in the distance. Peter’s vascular arms cross over his chest. Lidded eyes leer straight at the mystery woman.

“Sooooooooo…” He tilts his head to the side, “Who are you? And why are you playing Heart outside my house at, like, ass-o-clock at night?” Peter pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicious slits, “Are you tryna pick up my sister? ‘Cuz you kinda look the type. And I know she’s been ‘tryin’ new things’ lately.” He gestures with air quotes, “If you catch my drift. Not that it’s any of my business. Point is , she’s not here.”

Boombox girl lowers said boombox down into the grass. She shakes her head, reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan.

“Pick up your sis- hah! ” She snickers with a snort, dawning a bashful smile. Boombox girl runs her other hand through her hair, “No! Noooo, it’s not like that! Uhm…I was actually playing Alone for you, silly.”

Peter drops his arms to his sides, and his heart skips a speedy beat. Scrunching his nose, he curls his lip.

“Youplayedwhatforwhonow?” He slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. The apples of his cheeks burn, and Peter clears his throat, “Uhhhh. Okay. Thanks? That’s…sweet, I guess. But, I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Her smile’s kind of adorable. Especially as she rubs her neck, displaying timid hesitance. Whatever confidence she had, she must’ve maxed out on 80’s romance cliches.

“Not really? I mean, I’ve seen you around. A lot. But you’ve never really noticed me, so…”

Alrighty then. That makes this interaction even weirder. But Peter’s pulled equally weird - if not more desperate stops to win some hearts in the past. And he may or may not be guilty of the same technique she’s using now.

Give him a break, okay? So what if he took a chance on it once? Back when he was eighteen and leagues more naive. It’s a little cheesy, sure. But it’s also the story of how he lost his v-card. And not the Valentine’s kind.

Case in point, it worked for him. So, he’ll bite.

“And you thought crashin’ outside my house, blastin’ some corny song while my family’s asleep - that’s a smoother move than…oh, I dunno…just talkin’ to me?”

She shrugs again, her guilty eyes looking down at the grass. Boombox girl raises a foot, tapping the ground with the tip of her boot. God, she’s obviously so nervous. And he's not gonna lie, it's a little charming. The corners of Peter’s lips turn up in a grin.

“I thought it might get your attention. You just…you move so fast all the time. And I’m really slow when it comes to these kinds of things. You were always gone before I ever got the chance.”

“How’d you know where I live?” Peter throws her a nod of his head, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, she fixes her attention on the plastic case of a cassette tape.

“My uncle tried to arrest you once.” She grins, “He was out on patrol. Saw you steal a speed limit sign. Your mom paid him to let you off the hook.”

Peter’s brows fly up under his bangs. His cheeky smile spreads into his dimples.

“Your unc-...seriously? Whoa. No kiddin’?” He laughs, “Wish I could say I remember. But that sorta thing used to happen to me all the time.”

Not like he wasn’t asking for it back then. But to be fair, Peter’s made some drastic improvements. When it comes to his klepto compulsions, anyway. Excluding the influx of junk food and Garbage Pail Kid cards he snags on a daily basis. From nation-wide chain stores. Totally ethical.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. This way, he actually gets a good look at her. Soft lips. Pretty eyes, “You used to be the talk of the station, where he worked. Those guys never shut up about you.”

Reaching forward, she passes Peter the cassette in her hand.

“What’s this?” He gently takes it, inspecting the hand-made label inside the case. Decorated in little, lightning bolt doodles. Even some hearts. Aw. Cute. Scratched across it in messy handwriting, are the words - For the kleptomaniac. In exchange for my heart. You stole it forever ago.

Come on. Could she be any more corny?

“It’s a mixtape.” She bites her lip like she’s terrified to keep talking, “It’s cool if you don’t listen to it. I dunno if you’ll even like what’s on it. But I know you carry around that Walkman all the time.”

Uh huh. Did her uncle tell her that too? Get outta here.

“Does it have Heart on it?” Peter flips the case over in his hand, pursing his lips.

“Of course it has Heart on it.”

“Awww. Givin’ me Heart for your heart.” He snickers, turning pinker in his cheeks, “This is legit the cheesiest thing a girl’s ever done for me. I’m kinda buggin’ out right now.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, I can always take it back, if you-” She teases, like she thinks he’s being sarcastic.

She reaches for the tape. But as her fingers brush the case, Peter raises it above his head. The motion happens quickly, before she can even keep up. Boombox girl wasn’t foolin’. She is slow. Slower than a turtle on tranquilizers. As she makes another attempt, Peter drops his hand in a speedy blur.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nuh uh. No takesie-backsies.” He teases, waving a finger, “A trades a trade, babe.”

Her hands rest at her hips, and she flutters her long lashes. So shamelessly flirtatious, but still not enough to win him over. Not just yet. Even if her bedroom eyes offer a tempting invite. Like, seriously, so tempting.

Mama didn't raise him like that, though. Peter has somewhat of a delinquent track record, sure. But he's still a good hearted gentleman. He'll take her out on a few dates first. Treat her to a little arcade romance, before he tries some no pants dancing.

If she's not playing him for a complete jackass, that is. Really, it’s almost too good to be true.

No chick has ever pined for him this hard in his life. And Peter’s never had the chance to play hard to get. He bets dollars to donuts, boombox babe probably isn't a mutie either. Talk about some major role reversal. How often does a human girl beg and plead for mutant man's love? She knows he's a total shut in, right? Or did her uncle not fill her in on that?

“You still have my heart, though.” She coos, gazing at Peter with those eyes.

Those - embrace me, o’ speedster man of my dreams - eyes.

Yeah. Her uncle most definitely didn't break the news. Peter hisses, teasing her again with a click of his teeth.

“Ooooh. Yeah. Well, finders keepers. Good luck shakin’ that silver lovebug.”

He flirts back and forth with her naturally. Kinda like high school sweethearts. It goes on for a few more minutes. Until he's pestered her enough, she just up and quits. Her car's parked down the street. A Volkswagen bug. Hah. And there she goes. Peter's secret admirer stomps off. Boombox swinging at her side. A wave of guilt almost pulls him under, and Peter starts to regret teasing her so much.

She laughs as she walks away. And the call of her giggle brings him back to the surface, much like a song. Seems like the sirens really did come out tonight.

So, she likes playing games too, huh?

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Peter’s not even that much of a Heart fan.

He looks down at the cassette case in his hands. Rolling a thumb over a scratch in the plastic. A beat passes. In a flash, he appears in front of her. Peter walks backwards, padding barefoot along the side of the road.

“So, are you gonna ask me out ‘er what? C'mon, don't be chicken shit. I know you got it in you!” He jokes.

Boombox girl giggles so hard, she breaks out in dorky snorts. Ah, the sexiest, siren song. Too bad that's not a track on the mixtape. He’s willing to slip her some loose change for a raw recording.

By happenstance, another car slows to a stop. Right in the middle of the empty neighborhood street. Colored a familiar shade of scarlet, the vehicle looms for a beat or two. Peter comes to halt, watching as the passenger side window rolls down. Boombox girl crashes right into him.

Shit. Peter just now realized, he doesn't know her name yet.

He grabs her hips on instinct, catching her in case she falls over or something. Her free hand clutches his arm, right over the ‘mom’ tattoo etched into his skin. Naturally, Peter radiates enough warmth to act as a heater. He’s a godsend on cold, lonesome nights. Boombox girl presses her body closer to his, seeking his heat.

Peter knows she does it without thinking, since she whimpers a soft, “ Oh god. I’m so sorry. ”

“It’s cool. You okay?” Peter’s hands linger on her hips.

“What’s going on over there?” Wanda grills playfully from her car. She flits her eyes between her doofus brother, and boombox girl. When Wanda purses her lips, she does so in a way identical to Peter, “Is he giving you any trouble?” She asks what's-her-name.

Peter zips to the passenger side door, crossing his arms over it. Leaning against Wanda’s car through the window, he makes a pfffbbbbtt noise.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Wands. I’m just walkin’ my future wife to her car.” He raises one of his hands, waving the cassette case, “Check it out, ah? She made me a mixtape! Cute, right?”

Wanda’s knits her brows as she tilts her head. The long, scarlet locks of her hair bounce with the motion. At the side of the road, boombox girl makes an adorable squeal. She covers her blistering face with her hands, mewling silent pleas.

“Oh my god stop. I’m sorry I even said anything. Oh my god. ” What's-her-name whimpers.

Which really isn’t helping the whole suspicious sister situation. Wanda leans back in her seat, peering over Peter’s shoulder at boombox girl. Narrowing her eyes, Wanda looks back at him. And before she can call Peter out on his bullshit, he lowers his arms from the door. Peter drops his chin to it, his tapioca eyes gazing up at Wanda innocently.

He chews his lip. In that ‘ I’m obviously up to no good’ kind of way.

“Y’wanna know what that cutie over there told me?” He purrs, talking loud enough for what’s-her-name to hear, "She said I stole her-"

Boombox girl shrieks, “MAXIMOFF! Please! That was a secret! I’m serious! You’re killing me here, dude!”

Maximoff?

Ohhhhh. She doesn’t actually know his name. Seriously? Didn’t what's-her-name say she’s pined after Peter for a while now? How long is a while? Long enough to know his address, apparently. And to know he likes listening to his tunes. And to know he’s a mutant with a rep for thieving. But not long enough for anyone to drop his name? Did the feds never bother learning it? Ouch. Figures.

“Piet.” Wanda leers at Peter, holding him at gunpoint with her eyes, “Leave that poor girl alone. Look at her! She’s had enough.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter stands up straight. Lazily, he smirks, waving a hand, signaling Wanda to drive off.

“Naaaah! You shoulda seen her back at the house. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Played songs outside my window. Y'know, like they do in the movies? I’m serious! You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Once more, Wanda shifts her skeptical gaze to what’s-her-name. The mystery girl carries her boombox to her car. With her head dipped and a free hand over her face. She looks like she’s doing the walk of shame. As if Peter stole a little something else from her and-w hoops. That's also not helping his case at all. Wanda hums, doubtful of Peter’s unlikely story.

He cheeses a toothy grin, looking guilty.

“Really?” Wanda adjusts in her seat, reaching for the radio dial, “Well, you might wanna tell her goodnight. For a girl who’s totally in love with you , she seems in a heck of a hurry to leave.”

And with that, Wanda drives off. Peter stumbles back, his calloused heels scuffing concrete. Wanda’s car rolls all the way down the road and into the driveway. Whipping around, Peter catches what’s-her-name opening the trunk of her love bug. As she lifts the boombox into it, Peter zips up next to her. Latching his arms around the boombox, he gives her an aloof grin.

“Can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks, cutie.” He throws her a wink.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask why. Peter zips back to his spot on the side of the road, clicking a button on the boombox. He raises it over his head, letting Heart roar obnoxiously across the neighborhood. Disrupting the late night peace. Out the corner of his eye, Peter notices a few neighborhood lights come on. The song plays just as Wanda hops out of her car. She stops in the middle of her stride to the front door. Her bags hang from her arms and her keys dangle on her finger.

Wanda squints, eyebrows turned inward.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

“I TOLD YOU! SHE’S TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ME!” Peter yells.

A faint, red glow emanates from Wanda’s hand, as she delicately swipes it in the air. The boombox’s tape player pops open with an click, and Peter lowers the box down in front of him. He playfully pouts, muttering a soft booooooo to himself. Abrupt silence fills the entire neighborhood again, save for the local dogs barking in their yards.

“Say goodnight, Pietro.” Wanda’s voice calls from the driveway, before she disappears into the house.

Peter doesn’t even realize what’s-her-name is standing next to him, until she speaks.

“Pietro’s a beautiful name.”

Peter snickers, feeling heat rise in his cheeks again. Popping open the case she gave him, he swaps the tape for the one in the boombox. Rapidly clicking the volume button, Peter huffs a soft laugh, hooded eyes blinking.

"Thanks. I'd say the same about yours, but I don't even know it." He teases. A little shy, Peter keeps his eyes on the boombox, "I go by Peter, actually."

"Peter. Pietro. Whatever your name is, you embarrassed the shit outta me, man." What's-her-name scoffs. Peter kinda likes the sound of both names in her voice, "You're lucky you're gorgeous."

Gorgeous? Whoa. That's a helluva word. Shit, this really is too good to be true. Peter's heart skips another beat, and he shakes his head. "Y'know, if you still what your heart back, you're shit outta luck, babe." Peter clicks the play button on the boombox, only after some tension heavy beats pass, "Like I said, finders kee-"

An all too familiar melody pours from the boombox speakers, softer now.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I’m lying here the room’s pitch dark

“Seriously?” Peter laughs, slinging an arm over boombox girl's shoulders.

“Yeah, seriously. I told you it had Heart.” She blushes profusely, averting her innocent gaze.

Maybe there really is something to these 80's romance cliches. Peter's almost willing to give up his own heart. Just as compensation for hers.

[bigbawdy-benzz]

SUPER SHY 2.0

Pairing: Miles 42! X Shy Black Plus Size Fem Reader

Tags: @idkmistake @aaliyahwalkshere @mama-2001

Summary: Y/N has finally been noticed by Miles, you already had Miles heart now you have it even more now that you two are bonding getting to know each other.

A/N: I'm glad you guys loved the other one so much!! So here's pt.2 a day later I hope you guys love this one as well!! ENJOYYYYY as the author I was giggling and kicking my feet rooting for y’all. Btw if you didn’t read Pt.1 go read it before this one!! pt3

“I'm Y/N thank you so much”. You say taking your books trying to hide your smile.

“No problem Y/N also I like your shoes” Miles stated with a smile, you looked down at your shoes then looked at his smiling even wider looking back up at him.

“Thank you we’re matching” Y/N replied. Miles looked at his shoes smirking looking at Y/N

“Coincidence” He said swiftly walking away with his friends. You were hooping and hollering in your head trying not to scream.

“GIRLLLLLLLLL” Aaliyah shouted.

“Damn that was a very intense moment” Ocean states with her eyes widened looking at You.

“That's your man cannot convince me ANY less” Aaliyah exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Seriously did you see the way he LOOKED at you when y’all were talking AND the mamita that's all yours Y/N”. Ocean added to Aaliyah’s statement

“PLS don’t add on to my delusions, let's get to class” You stated before, y'all were late to class. You and your friends contained yourselves going to your math class. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but Miles was running through your mind it was hard to pull yourself together. Your friends noticed laughing quietly. You looked at them with a smile, you went on your phone to distract yourself seeing the following icon pop up on instagram, you clicked it seeing ‘therealmilesgmorales’ has followed you. Your eyes light up showing your friends your phone.

“Ohhhh mmmmm ggggggg” Aaliyah whispered.

“You better get on that luv cause that's officially your man he followed you” Ocean stated smirking at You.

“Real delulu screaming out my man” You sang causing you and your friends to giggle, in your peripheral vision your teacher eyed yall.You guys immediately started doing your work praying the bell rings soon. You went back to daydreaming with the biggest smile on your face, you heard the bell ring grabbing your things exiting the class room with your friends. The rest of the school day went by smoothly, you saw Miles in the hallway shooting him smiles and he smiled right back at you. The end of the day approached and you were about to leave with your friends.

“Hey Mamita” Miles said approaching you, you were smiling from ear to ear.

“Hi Miles” You said shyly.

“Is it okay if I walk you home?”. Miles asked, You looked at your friends and then back at Miles they nodded their heads at you.

“Yes of course” You replied.

“BYEEE Y/N WE LOVE YOU” Aaliyah shouted

“BE SAFE BOOKIE” Ocean Shouted as well as you were leaving with Miles.The walk was dead silent for 5 minutes because you were too shy to say anything, Miles picked up on this smiling at you.

“What you listening to?” Miles asks

“I'm listening to Best I ever had by Drake” You reply

“That's my shiiit play it I wanna listen”. He says you take your airpod out blasting the song. Miles starts singing, you look at him chuckling joining him cause fuck it.

“Baby, you my everything, you all I ever wanted We could do it real big, bigger than you ever done it You be up on everything, other hoes ain't ever on it I want this forever, I swear, I can spend whatever on it” The both of you sing laughing having a good time walking home. You were smiling the whole walk, Miles started dancing while walking making you laugh.

“AYEEEE” you shouted hyping him up, you appreciated how he made you feel comfortable by doing simple things. Quite frankly Miles did not give a damn about how he might have looked crazy; it made you feel comfortable enough to sing at the top of your lungs with him.

“Who else you listen to ma?” Miles asks with a smile, seeing you smile

“I listen to Brent Faiyez, Tyler the Creator, Steve lacy, Shreea Kaul, the list goes on”. You reply smiling from ear to ear.

“I like Brent Faiyez, Tyler the Creator,Steve Lacy, I have to listen to Shreea Kaul. We gotta get together, do nothing and listen to music you a Vibe” Miles stated, looking at you with the cutest smile on your face.

“Tienes una hermosa sonrisa” Miles said, making you want to fall to your knees, the way it rippled off his tongue, the way his voice sounded it tingled you just right. (You have a beautiful smile)

“Thank you Miles” You said shyly, Miles chuckled.

“You gettin shy on me Mamita?”. He says confidently being a tease, the way everything rolled off his tongue did something to you.

“Noo of course not”. You say looking away from Miles.

“Awe it’s okay, I have a question for you”. Miles expressed

“What's your question?” You ask while still looking away from him, he brought his hand to your chin turning your head to look at him, you were flustered trying not to blush.

“Can I take you out Tomorrow?” He asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb, you fall into his touch looking at him.

“Yes you can take me out” You say receiving a smile from Miles, he wanted to kiss you right then and there but it was too soon way too soon. He stopped touching your face realizing you’ve made home.

“Don’t worry about where we are going, I'm going to figure it out,it's going to be a surprise just show up looking pretty I'm going to show you how pretty girls are treated”. Miles stated looking you in the eyes.

Stay tuned for pt 3!!!

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

WC: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI

Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk. 

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses.

A/N: I'm really beginning to enjoy writing again, and this fic has really become the highlight of my holiday season. If you're reading this little story, thank you from the bottom of my heart- I really hope you enjoy it! Maybe these two idiots will actually manage to speak to each other in the next chapter. We can but hope, eh?

Your heart sank a little the next day when you arrived and the table where the handsome Mr. Miller had been the day before was empty. You tried to ignore the little stab of disappointment as you ordered, and sat down in your usual spot, scanning the rest of the tables for any sign of him and told yourself to stop being absurd. You were disappointed because, what, a handsome man in a coffee shop wasn’t there to shoot you half-smiles while you ogled at him? 

Despite the internal scolding you were giving yourself, you kept glancing at the clock as you worked. He’d been here early the last two days. You guessed before his 9-5. You absently wondered what he did for work. Nothing about his phone call yesterday had given it away. You figured if he didn’t show in the next fifteen minutes, then he wasn’t going to. 

Despite your clock-watching, you managed to get a good chunk of your own work done. You’d brought your drawing tablet today and were digitising another logo based on some sketches you’d done the night before. It helped distract you, at least that’s what you told yourself. Every now and then, your eyes darted to the door or scanned the empty tables around you. Each time, the knot of disappointment in your stomach tightened a little more. 

By the time you’d finished outlining the design, an hour had passed and you were resigned to the fact that he wasn’t coming. You felt foolish. He was just some guy whose morning routine had coincidentally, temporarily overlapped with yours. A thought struck you then, harsh and clanging: you hadn’t noticed a wedding ring on his hand. 

Had you even looked?

Your stomach turned at the realisation. No, you hadn’t. You were hit with a sudden shame, laced with biting hypocrisy. Too caught up in a fanciful daydream without stopping to consider the most basic facts. For all you knew, he could have a wife, kids, a whole life that had nothing to do with you and never would. 

You let out a sigh and set down your tablet with as much care as your exasperation would allow, irritated with yourself. You glanced around at the other customers in the coffee shop, caught up in their own busy morning routines and told yourself to let it go. You shook your head in an attempt to clear the thoughts. There was no point in spiralling over a complete stranger. Maybe it was better this way; a stark reminder to stick to the plan you’d promised yourself. This was just the universe’s way of making sure you stuck to it. The universe was a dick, you concluded.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and you were mulling over whether you would be better off finishing your work for the day at home. You were not, you told yourself firmly, going back to your apartment to sulk. 

The chair scraped lightly against the floor as you shifted to begin packing up your things. Just as you reached for your tablet, the bell over the door jingled and a gust of warm air swept in to the shop. 

You glanced up reflexively, and your stomach swooped. There he was. As if you’d summoned him with the sheer force of will. Mr. Miller. 

He stepped up to the counter, his broad flannel-clad shoulders framed by the morning light spilling in behind him. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He looked harassed, and didn’t return the cheery smile the barista offered as he ordered.

It might have been wishful thinking, but his expression looked faintly apologetic as he glanced over at you, before turning toward his usual table. He ran a hand through his unruly curls as he glanced down at his phone, frowning. He caught your eye again and you offered him a small smile. The furrow in his brow lessened and he smiled back. He draped his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him and hesitated before he pulled it out to sit. He took a step away from his table towards you and your eyebrows shot up- was he actually coming over here? Was he going to talk to you? You were struck with a sudden panic;  heat rising up the back of your neck as you tried to look nonchalant. Before you could gather any kind of coherent thought, a familiar voice rang out from somewhere behind him.

“Hello, stranger!” 

You looked up, startled, and watched as he paused awkwardly mid-stride. You resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation as the source of the voice bounded past him, her dark curls bouncing as she moved, a bright smile plastered across her face. You would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Summer, hi!”

A genuine smile spread across your face despite the unexpected interruption as you stood and pulled her in to a hug. Summer was the one good friend you’d made since moving to Austin- a whirlwind of energy and unfiltered opinions who, after a brief but unforgettable drunken conversation, had taken you under her wing. 

You’d been sitting quietly at a bar the night that you met her, nursing a drink and privately celebrating your first freelance client. It was a small victory, but one you were determined to savour, even if it was in solitude. Summer had appeared like a bolt of lightning, plopping down on the stool next to yours with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Celebrating alone? That’s tragic. Me too,” She’d declared, flagging down the bartender before you could respond. Her confidence had been disarming, and you found yourself telling her all about the new client and how you’d only just moved to Austin a few weeks ago and didn’t know anyone. “You do now!” She’d said happily, clinking her glass against yours. 

From that night on, Summer had been a constant in your life. She dragged you out of your apartment for brunches, happy hours and art shows. She’d shown you the best thrift stores, the hidden coffee spots, and the parts of the city you’re sure you would have never found on your own. And despite her tendency to bulldoze through social norms with her exuberance and complete lack of filter, she’d become someone you’d quickly considered a true friend. 

“You are not going to believe the morning I’ve had,” Summer said, flopping in to the chair across from you without waiting for an invitation. “I am officially in the market for a new job. Again.”

As happy as you were to see her, as she chatted away you couldn’t help but sneak glances over to the other table when you thought Summer wouldn’t notice. Your heart sank slightly as, not long after he’d arrived, he shot back the last mouthful of coffee and made moves to leave. You tried to keep the disappointment from showing on your face. 

“You’re distracted,” Summer said suddenly, pulling your attention back. 

“What? No I’m not.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in to a smirk. You opened your mouth to protest further, but the words stuck in your throat. Your eyes flitted back over to the table over her shoulder and her eyes followed yours, and before you could stop her, she turned in her seat to look. You didn’t dare take your eyes from her as she snapped her head back to you, curls flying conspicuously.

“Huh. Well, I don’t blame you. He is pretty distracting.” Summer murmured, looking back again in a way that was anything but subtle. You hissed her name through your teeth, mortified. 

“What? He’s hot,” she said,  shrugging unapologetically as she turned back to you again. “And he’s looking over here.” 

You felt your cheeks heat, and you busied yourself with your coffee. “He’s not looking over here.” 

“He totally is,” she insisted, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye.

You hesitated, glaring half-seriously at her over your coffee cup, weighing up whether to throw gasoline on this particular fire. You leaned in, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sketchbook. Summer smiled sweetly at you from across the table, hands clasped under her chin, eyes wide with anticipation.

“He comes in here a lot,” You murmured across the table, setting your coffee down, “Every day, in fact. We’ve… smiled at each other a few times.” You said, only realising how ridiculous it all was when the words left your mouth.

Summer laughed and dragged a hand down her face dramatically. 

“Oh my stars, you’ve smiled at each other? Alert the church elders!” she said, her eyes glinting in a way you didn’t like. “Next time he looks over, wave him over here. I’ll do it for you if you-” 

“No!” You said quickly, ignoring the fact that you saw his head snap up to look at your you in your peripheral. Your heart was suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Don’t you dare. Summer,” you pleaded, “I mean it.”

Summer laughed again, but held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fine. I won’t.” 

You sighed in relief as he went through his usual leaving ritual, stealing glances as he shrugged on his jacket, checked his watch and carried his empty coffee cup to the counter.

“I wonder what his name is,” Summer said as she watched him leave, her head tilted as she admired him before turning back to you with a sly smile. “Bet it’s something rugged like Jack or Keith.”

You giggled and relaxed a little back in your seat now that there was no danger of him overhearing you, or Summer talking to him on your behalf. 

“His surname’s Miller,” You said on impulse. You shrugged and blushed slightly at the expression Summer shot you. “I overheard him on the phone yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you say?” She groaned, grabbing her phone from the table. She tapped furiously at the screen, her brow furrowed with concentration. You sipped your coffee, watching her with a mix of amusement and unease. 

“What are you doing?” You asked warily. 

“Finding him, obviously,” she replied without looking up. 

“Summer, no,” you protested, leaning forward as if you could somehow stop her through sheer force of will. “That’s creepy!”

“It’s not creepy; it’s resourceful!” She countered happily, lips twitching in to a grin. “If you spend every day pining over this guy, you might as well find out who he is.” 

You groaned, sinking back in to your chair. “I’m not pining.” 

Summer raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. A few seconds later, she let out a triumphant noise and turned her phone screen toward you. “Miller Construction,” she announced. “That him?” 

You reluctantly leaned forward, your stomach flipping as you scanned the screen. There, under a sleek header for Miller Construction: Consultation & Project Management, was a row of polished photos of the company’s leadership team. 

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you spotted him. His hair was neater, his beard was shorter and he was maybe slightly younger, but it was unmistakably him, smiling at you from the screen. You smiled back at his picture despite yourself, ignoring the flips your stomach was doing. You blinked at the name under his photo.

Joel Miller. 

Summer grinned wickedly, turning the phone back to look. 

“Told you it’d be rugged,” she said, putting on a deeper voice and waggling her eyebrows at you, “Jack. Keith. Joel.”

You laughed, watching as Summer scrolled through the website, her eyes darting about the screen. “If he’s here tomorrow you have to speak to him. Introduce yourself. He clearly wants you to,” she said, flicking her eyes back up to you. 

“I don’t know, Summer. He’s probably married or-”

“No ring,” Summer interrupted, wiggling her left hand at you “First thing I checked.” 

You rolled your eyes at her, but your face felt hot. 

“I’m supposed to be focusing on myself, Summer,” you said, before draining your coffee cup, “I don’t have time for-”

“For what?” Summer interrupted you, “Who says it has to be anything serious? He’s gorgeous, seems polite enough, owns a thriving business apparently. You should just let yourself have a bit of fun once in a while.” 

You stared down at your empty coffee cup and bit your lip as Summer continued, “Life’s too short to pass up an opportunity like that,” she said, locking her phone and placing it back down on the table.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, throwing her a weak smile. 

“And you’re stubborn,” She shot back, grinning at you fondly. 

“Anyway, you jobless wonder” you said, eager to move the conversation on, “tell me everything that’s happened since I last saw you.” 

Summer left an hour later, only after you agreed to join her for brunch at the weekend. You packed up your things and headed home with every intention of diving back in to your work, but your focus wavered the moment you walked through the door. Your space felt unusually quiet; the hum of your appliances doing little to fill the void. You threw open a window to let the buzz of the city float in before you set up at your desk, determined to finish the logo you’d been working on this morning. It was no use, after ten minutes you’d made zero progress. The pen sat idly in your hand against the tablet. You pushed back from the desk, rubbing your temples, and tried not to think about Joel Miller. 

The memory of his hesitant step toward you in the coffee shop replayed in your mind. The furrow in his brow, the way his eyes had softened when you caught his gaze- it was maddening how much detail your brain had decided to cling to.

Before you knew it, you’d typed “Miller Construction Austin” in to your browser search bar. A moment later, the company website loaded, clean and professional with bold, simple fonts. The homepage featured photos of their completed projects and a blurb about the company. You clicked through to the “About Us” tab at the top of the page without a second thought.  

And there he was. Joel Miller, listed as founder and co-owner. Dressed in a nice suit and tie, dimples framing his easy smile. The image was a different side of him than you’d seen in the coffee shop, but his eyes were the same- dark chestnut pools filled with a warmth that made your chest tighten. 

Your finger hovered over the x on the tab, ready to close it, but you didn’t. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as if putting some distance between yourself and the man staring back at you from the screen would somehow untangle the knot in your chest. 

You’re unsure whether Summer had done you any favours by finding him, by giving him more of a weight in the world. You might have been better off with the limited information you’d had before. With a heavy sigh, you finally closed the tab and shut your laptop. You sat for a moment, staring out the window as the sun set over the city.

You allowed yourself a moment to reflect on your experiences so far here in Austin. You’d arrived here without any kind of plan beyond ‘find somewhere to live’, and ‘make money so you don’t starve’, and everything seemed to be going okay so far. You considered Summer; you always aspired to be more like her- less anxious and worried, more impulsive and hedonistic. You were working on it. It was a slow process. 

You pushed away from the desk and stood, stretching your arms above your head, pushing away deep internal conversation and instead wondering what to have for dinner. 

By the time you climbed in to bed later that night, you’d worked through some of the thoughts bouncing around inside your head, and settled on the rationalisation that you often forgot: that life would unfold as it always did, in its own time, no matter how much you tried to steer it.

For now, you’d let the day end and see where tomorrow took you.

Next Chapter

[deblklesb]

[I Want You So Bad — Ellie x Reader, Pt. 1]

[AFAB!reader, friends to lovers, fluff MDNI] (part 2 here)

Summary: Ellie likes you so much, and it's crazy how you don't even notice it.

a/n: omg i finally did it!!!! it took me too long, so sorry anon, but it's finally here!! its a two part thing, I'll post part2 soon! hope you enjoy it, please let me know if you do!

cw: fluff and pining. as always i don't want minors interacting.

not proof read | reblogs are highly appreciated

It's a painfully hot day in Jackson, Ellie is wondering how Shimmer is doing down in the barn and contemplating about going there to spend some time with her beloved horse. The sun gives everything an extra glimmer and the roads hold small puddles of fata morganas, amusing her as always - astronomy it's her main target of curiosity but physics it's there too.

While she fixes her shoelaces and checks her pockets for the keys, she also looks at the small handmade candy wrapped in a simple paper, standing on the bench next to her door. The grocery brings back delightful memories of when you runned up to her with the cutest smile, a hand in her direction.

"Ellie, I made this candy from a recipe I found in one of those books, took some for you", you had no idea how that gesture reached the Williams girl right into the heart.

"Oh, thanks…!" She looked down at the brownish treat. It seemed to be so tasteful and you were known amongst your friends to be a very talented cook.

"So, are you coming to the Tipsy Bison tonight?" You put your hands in your back pockets. Ellie could only see a part of your tattoo coming out of your short sleeve, wondering what the entirety of it would look like.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. If I can finish all my tasks", she would definitely drop them if that meant to see you.

"Okay, cool! See ya later, then", and just like that you left with a small wave and a sweet smile.

Inside, Ellie beat herself up for not asking something like "oh do you want me there?" to slightly make a move and test the waters. You would always leave her speechless, lagging, absolutely fumbling on her words to even put a goof full sentence out.

On this incredibly hot day, she thinks it's finally the time to maybe taste your candy. She hasn't done it yet because… Maybe because she was holding onto the mere fact that you thought about her and went out of your way to give her some handmade candy. It was such a sweet act, it made her daydream for days and literally kick her feet when laying on her bed that night, thinking about your pretty eyes and cute lips.

Deciding to save for that night, she finally heads out to the hot weather and bright sun. The sunglasses she found on a supply run unfortunately were broken, she could make good use of them now.

It didn't take long to reach the barns, the shadow of the roof presenting a hope to cool down. The horses seemed to not mind the heat that much, and today was bathing day.

"Morning, Els", Pedro, a 15 year-old boy waved at her. She smiled back, finally facing Shimmer on her usual spot. But the horse wasn't alone.

In the barn, a brush in hand, stands you. Mindlessly stroking Shimmer's fur in circles, your back is not fully out since you're still with a tank on but Ellie can finally see the rest of your tattoo; it's a big tiger, an image mostly on your back with just a paw sticking on your front, under the clavicle - the part Ellie could always see. Today, it moves as your muscles do the same and you murmur a random melody, eyes careful to put the attention on the horse's fur.

The brunette has to take a deep breath before proceeding into the barn, trying to pull out that chill, laid back facade to hide the way you make her almost melt into a puddle.

"Hey, see you got up early today" She has you stopping on your tracks to look over your shoulder, immediately smiling fondly when seeing her.

"Yeah, I got the bathing job today so I didn't want to leave it until later", dirt falls from Shimmer's fur as you brush it. She's not the dirtiest one usually, but after some runs between the last bath and this one a significant amount of dirt is coming off. "Where have you been putting her to, by the way?"

"Oh, we found an old ranch somewhere west and I decided to let her run around a bit. It made a big cloud of dirt around her", Ellie chuckles as she gets closer from the horse, patting her neck. "This big girl enjoyed herself very much"

"Well, that's good, though", you go back into looking straight to your front, oblivious to how Ellie's gaze falls on your tranquil figure.

She captures the bridge of your nose and your adorable cheeks, the ones she just wanna kiss all the time so badly. Your hair, away from your face today, your attractive lips and the prettiest eyes she has ever seen. With your back to the barn's door, you almost glow in front of the light coming from outside. Like a divine vision, straight out of a fantasy book, demanding to be worshiped by the auburn haired girl. She feels her chest tightening and that feeling spreading to her arms and stomach, like it always does when she's around you; a visceral need to touch you in any possible way.

Shimmer ruffs and bumps her snout into Ellie's face, almost like she's calling her back to Earth.

"Easy", Ellie chuckles again, now trying to hide the last moment. From who? She doesn't know, there's just you, her and the horses here, but she feels so exposed whenever she's around you.

"It might sound crazy, but I do believe these horses have personality", you suddenly comment, turning to grab a comb.

"Right?! Oh, Jesse keeps saying I am crazy, that they're just horses, but I do feel this too! One time Shimmer laughed when she saw me fall. Like, a horse laugh, but I swear it was a laugh", and just like that, Ellie's loosening up.

Your laugh fills the space as you stand next to Shimmer to comb her black tail. Now facing your back again, Ellie takes in how your back muscles press your dark tank top and how your waist seems to call her hands to grab it, hold you from behind close to her chest. The desire to have your scent consuming her mind is so strong, she thinks she might actually pass out.

This is getting so out of hand.

"So", she clears her throat, looking around for another comb to work on Shimmer's mane. "Are you going to be here all day?"

"Tipsy Bison at six", you don't even care to look back at her, focused on the tail.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Yeah, very well, actually", you chuckle. "Tomorrow I have nothing in the morning, so I can compensate"

"Oh… I thought we could, y'know…", she's trying to collect the millions of thoughts running around her mind at the same time, trying to not fuck this up. "Have a sleepover one of those nights… When you're free, I mean… But we don't have to if you don't want it- it was just an idea"

"It's a great idea!" The way you smile, turning to look at her, has her heart clenching. It's so genuine and sweet, just like you always do whenever you see her coming around and go compliment her. Do you even know the way she loses balance at each one of those acts? "The last sleepover was so long ago. We should call Dina and Jesse too"

"Yeah, absolutely", she rests her head on Shimmer's neck when you turn your attention to the tail again, cursing silently.

The rest of Shimmer's bath was calm, you both kept talking about whatever. At one point, when Ellie was rinsing the horse's back legs, Shimmer just threw her tail on the girl's face, making you laugh out loud and the auburn haired girl look stunned.

In the end you both got out a little cooled down due to splashes of water, past midday after bathing all horses. It was easier with two people, after all.

"So, I guess I'll let you get going to change and go to work…"

"Aren't you coming to the Bison tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I'll pass by", she tried to sound chill and nonchalant, not revealing how she always planned to go there as long as she wasn't patrolling.

"Okay, see you there then!" And you fucking leaned to kiss her on the cheek, smiling while you waved goodbye and turned in your street, leaving Ellie dumbfounded.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If a stare could create holes, Jesse and Dina would cause trypophobia in anyone. Ellie was sitting across from them on the table, holding a beer bottle so tightly that it could break at any giving moment. Standing next to the table was you, listening to their shitty excuses about not being able to attend to the sleepover, oblivious to their real intentions.

"Oh, I get it, it's fine. Guess it'll be just me and Ellie then", you shrug, smiling to the auburn haired girl. She smiles back immediately under your gaze. "We'll, I have to go back to behind the counter, go talk to me if y'all need anything"

And she stares at your back while you walk away, always looking so fine while handling the objects behind the long wooden table.

"You're welcome, by the way", it's Jesse who says it, smirking.

"I'd beat the shit out of you if we weren't in public", she groans, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, come on! It will be nice having her all by yourself for a night, uh? Then you can silently pin over her while pretending to pay attention to some random ass movie", Dina is looking up like she's pondering the scenario.

"Shut up", her hands start to sweat with anticipation, all the possibilities running through her mind.

What you'll be wearing, what you both will watch, if you are going to sleep next to her, if she'll be able to hold you close absolutely in a friendly way, if you'll laugh and have a good time with her. Ellie thinks about the tragedies implicated in being alone with you for the whole night, how embarrassing it can be, how she'll combust just by looking at you so closely, yet, so far.

"Stop overthinking. Just wear those flannels, she likes it"

"No, she does not!" Her face warms up, because of the alcohol, of course.

"She already complimented you ten times about that shirt", Jesse points out.

It was true, though. And each and every time, Ellie almost melted into a puddle in front of your chaste gaze. If you only knew what ran through her mind when she looked at you…

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This was messy, and Ellie didn't know what to do anymore.

At some point of the night, you decided to play a game and Ellie just agreed - because what could go wrong? Not going far from the known route, you opted for a Q&A game in which each one asked a question and the other one had to answer it or respond with another question. It would be nice and silly, if the given situation wasn't hard enough for Ellie.

You were sitting in front of her, legs crossed on the couch, in a tank top and the smallest shorts Ellie has ever seen you on - which was cool, it was okay, she could manage that because she was already used to holding her shit together next to you. But everytime you moved around, for some reason, that night, she just wanted to pull you close once and for all. An inexplicable energy was emerging from the whole situation and she couldn't grasp it properly, but it made her restless.

Her hands tingle whenever you lightly hold her arm or her leg, she starts to wonder why you were so touchy generally, but tonight more than ever. An indescribable feeling comes from her guts each time you laugh and lean on. She might as well be going crazy.

So, it was already hard enough. But then you asked her if she was currently into some girl around town and that was the first time Ellie responded with another question.

"Why do you wanna know?" It sounded like she was caught off guard, and that bought your attention.

"I was just curious… But your answer makes me think that you actually are", you smirk, playful.

"I didn't say I was"

"Didn't say you weren't either", damn you for being clever.

"But that doesn't mean anything…" The auburn haired girl looked away, resting her arm on the back of the couch.

"Is it Dana?"

"No" Dana was another woman that regularly worked on the Tipsy Bison. She was pretty and polite, but Ellie wasn't interested in her - not with you around. And she was so desperate to direct the conversation somewhere else that she missed the way your voice changed.

"So there is someone, it's just not Dana?"

"Why are you so interested?"

Why were you so interested? It was because of the game, right? Your only concern now was the fact that Ellie didn't answer your initial question, so you had to dig to the bottom of this topic. That sudden sting on your stomach when thinking about Ellie pining over Dana was just the prospect of your close friend having a crush on your coworker and not telling you. Absolutely.

It probably had nothing to do with the way you were weirdly infatuated by Ellie tonight, with her hair on a bun and a halfway buttoned up flannel - with nothing but a top underneath it. Or how she seemed to glow under the warm light of her room and her presence brought the biggest comfort you've ever felt in weeks. Or how her lips seemed so attractive right now, calling for your sight when she nervously bit the bottom one. Little scars were splared around her face amongst the freckles, gifts from a bunch of branches that accidentally crashed into her face once, during a patrol.

"Because… I'm your friend and I would like to know when you're interested in someone. I mean, we tell this type of stuff to each other, right?"

Not all the stuff, Ellie thought.

"Yeah, I guess. Well, you actually have never told me something like that"

"That, my beloved, is because I have nothing to tell. You know it, I'm not interested in anybody as for now"

"Or for any other time on this town"

"Ouch!" You chuckled, lightly punching her shoulder. "You're not getting away from this topic. I'll name every woman our age and you'll tell me when it's the one"

The auburn haired girl tried very hard not to express any compromising expressions, especially after the list ended and you didn't say your own name.

You couldn't think of any other person that fit into the category, and that was odd. Because if there was someone, then it should be one of those.

"Oh, you're lying!"

"I'm not!"

"You just said 'no' to every single name"

"That's the reality of the situation"

"But there is someone?!"

"You said that, not me", she shrugged.

"Alright", you seemed resigned, looking away from her green eyes. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine"

A sting got it right into Ellie's chest. She liked you too much to let you be this way, but at the same time she didn't want to tell you. The amount of terrible things that could happen; losing you and your friendship was at the top of this list, and it was bad enough.

"It's not it, I swear", Ellie collected all the strength to softly hold your face; now she was doing it as your friend who didn't want to see you sad. She turned it so you could face her, stare at her eyes full of vivid green. "I swear, you didn't say the name"

"Okay", you sigh, trying to understand what was that feeling on your stomach that grew while her fingers still supported your chin.

"Now… Wanna watch another movie?" Her thumb caressed your face with tenderness, inside she hoped this made you less uneasy.

"Yeah", it got cold when she retracted her hands to reach for the DVD options you both picked for tonight. "You can chose it now"

[dividers by @cafekitsune]

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Like Real People Do: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of "Like Real People Do"

After a slight mishap in the admissions office, you find yourself in the same History class as Eddie, pushing your friendship forwards (thanks to the help of Dustin Henderson).

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Eddie x AFAB reader (named "Brooke" because I hate using Y/N, but will also be using "you" to make it reader-centric!)

Warnings: Swearing, dual pov. This entire series is 18+ MINORS DNI!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I'm so happy so many people are liking this one...I love writing about Eddie *kicking my feet*. I've also noted that some people are wanting a tag list for this one, so if you want to be added, let me know!

The heat inside the class room was stifling – one last heat spike seemed to be in full effect in Hawkins, and the lack of air conditioning inside Hawkins High really put a damper on any chance of comfortability. Eddie fanned himself with his hand, rolling his eyes at the sweat he felt pooling slightly at his collar.

Mr. Binkins, the history teacher, was droning on an on about World War I, much to the dissatisfaction of what seemed like the whole class. Eddie’s eyes wandered to outside the window, Mr. Binkins’ voice slowly morphing into the Charlie Brown adults – womp womp WOMP wOmP womp. This was his second time taking this particular class, and even though he got a D+ the last time, he had still retained the information somewhat.

In other words, he was really, really bored.

Eddie resisted the urge to start tapping a drum beat to the latest Metallica song he heard on the radio, his pencil resting between his fingers, ready for him to say “when”. No…he wouldn’t be that annoying in first period – besides, Mr. Binkins would probably tell him to stop within 10 seconds of him starting, and where the hell was the fun in that?

His mind wandered, running down his usual daydream subjects: music, his DnD campaign, the newest issue of Playboy Wayne was hiding under his bed that he thought Eddie had no idea about…

You.

He sat straighter in his seat. You’d been in classes for a few days now, but Eddie had only seen you in the hallway a couple of times. You’d pass by and offer a polite smile, or even a friendly wave, and he would return the favor. He noticed you hadn’t seemed to be initiated into any cliques yet, and that you were equally friendly to everyone you came across whenever he saw you. At lunch, you were either sitting by yourself, or not there at all. Eddie hadn’t gotten the courage to ask you to sit with him and the Hellfire Club just yet.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened and in you walked, holding your books in front of you. Eddie’s heart lurched and he furrowed his brows.

Had he…conjured you? Like straight up wizard-ed you into the classroom?

“Can I help you?” Mr. Binkins asked, all heads turning to you. You offered him a smile – your trademark smile – and handed him a pink slip from the office.

“I was apparently put in the wrong history class for the past few days. The office told me I should’ve been in this one.” You scanned the class quickly, and when your eyes passed by Eddie’s, you deepened your smile, causing Eddie to blush.

Jesus, dude. Get a grip! You thought, slouching in your chair again to try and regain any sense of cool you had left in your body.

“Huh. Okay, Miss…Henway. Welcome! Tell the class a little about yourself.” He gestured to the rest of class and you turned.

“Okay. Um…hi,” You offered a little wave, “I’m Brooke. I moved here from Ohio at the end of June…um…” You made a face, pursing your lips together to try and think of something, “I’m a junior? And I work at the library. And I have a dog! Her name is Molly. Um…I think that’s it?”

“Very good. Have a seat anywhere that’s empty. Quite exciting…not only that you’re a new student, but that you’re in a senior class! Very good.” Mr. Binkins clapped his hands together, “Now, as soon as Miss Henway takes her seat, we can continue you.”

Eddie watched you scan the room again, and once you noticed the empty desk next to him, you made your way over, sitting in the seat and plopping your books on the desk. You turned to him and smiled.

“Hi again.”

“Hey,” He said, returning the smile. Lowering his voice down to a whisper, he spoke again, “So you’re in this class now? Cool.”

You nodded, “Yep. I guess the office messed up. Based on my transcripts I should be in this class. Do you know what page we’re on?” You asked, point to the textbook. Eddie shrugged.

“No idea?”

You raised your hand, “Sorry, Mr. …”

“Binkins.” The teacher said, turning around from the blackboard.

“Right. Mr. Binkins, what page are we on?”

“33.”

“Great, thanks.” You started flipping through the book and snorted, your eyes darting over to Eddie. You whispered, “I don’t mean to sound rude but…Mr. Binkins sounds like he should be related to Bilbo Baggins with a name like that.”

Eddie chuckled and his heart flipped. “Fan of ‘The Hobbit’?”

“I read a lot.” You shrugged and gave him one last smile before turning your attention back to the lesson.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, his mind starting to swirl. So, he had met a cute – beautiful, really – girl, who was also really nice, and now in one of his classes. And on top of that, she seemed to share some similar interests? He blew out some air, trying to slow down the rapid pace of his heart.

He had a feeling he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

Lunch period came quickly – thank god – and once you had grabbed your tray from the cafeteria lady, you turned to face the lunchroom. You had spent your lunch periods either sitting by yourself at the end of a table, in the library, or taken in by various random students like an orphaned colonial child. Which, really, you didn’t mind – you didn’t mind being by yourself all that much, especially when you remembered to bring something to read, or had some homework to catch up on.

You started to make your way to your favorite empty table when you heard a voice shouting behind you. “Hey! Hey!” Turning, you saw Dustin, waving his arms in the air with enthusiasm. Eddie and Mike were sitting next to him, hanging their heads in embarrassment. The other few at the table were snickering, smiling at you. Dustin waved you over and motioned to sit.

You sat down across from Eddie, sliding your bookbag underneath the table. “Hi, everyone.” You greeted.

“Hi! I’m so happy I noticed you walking to your usual empty table – you should sit with us instead from now on!” Dustin said, sitting back in his seat and smiling, “If you want!”

“Oh, thanks!” You said, “Yeah, maybe I will, if you don’t mind.” You eyed Eddie and he immediately smiled back at you, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” He said.

“Great, then it’s settled! You can be apart of the lunch crew!” Dustin smiled proudly and ripped into his sandwich, chewing with his mouth open slightly, “How have your first few days been?”

You shrugged, pushing the salad you had gotten around with your fork, “Oh, it’s fine. I like school so it’s not too bad, but…” You trailed off, crossing your feet at the ankle, “Just an adjustment, is all.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“Dude!” Mike hissed, looking at Dustin, “You can’t just like, ask a new kid if they’ve made any friends yet. That’s rude.”

“No, it’s okay!” You offered, trying to lighten the mood, “I have…kinda? No one that I’ve hung out with outside of school yet…I have a bunch of classes with Nancy? Wheeler? So we’ve been chatting. Do you know her?”

Mike rolled his eyes and Dustin barked out a laugh, “Yeah, we know her. That’s Mike’s sister!”

“Oh! Oh, okay. Cool! She’s really nice.”

“Yeah…” Mike grumbled, in only the way younger brothers could. You shoved some salad in your mouth to shut yourself up, nodding and hoping someone else would take over the conversation.

“You could hang out with us, if you wanted!” Dustin offered, leaning in, “Do you play Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Dustin…” Eddie quietly groaned, “Please stop interrogating her. She’s only been able to take like, one bite of her food because you won’t stop asking her about her life story.”

“I…don’t, sorry,” You said, “Is that the game with like…dwarves and stuff?”

“Uh-huh! It’s really cool…if I do say myself.” Dustin reminded you of an over-enthusiastic puppy, which was really endearing. You noticed that Eddie, though seemingly annoyed with him, couldn’t help but have an affectionate air towards him. “I mean, we do other stuff too…not just DnD. We do movie nights, and go to the mall, and stuff.”

“I like the mall.” You offered politely, “I like to do a lot of stuff. And I like movie nights, too.”

“Next time we have one, we’ll invite you! Right, Eddie?”

Suddenly, Dustin shot up in his seat and yelped in pain, reaching down to his foot. Everyone at the table stopped to stare at him, including yourself.

“Jesus, that hurt, Eddie! Why did you kick me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie said, in monotone. His eyes flickered to yours and back to Dustin, “I say we let her decide if she wants to hang out with us. Stop peer pressuring the poor lady to go to a movie night with us for Christ’s sake.”

Your heart sank a little – even though Eddie was friendly enough, it didn’t really seem like he wanted you to hang out with his group. Which was fine, since you didn’t know each other very well, but it still would’ve been nice if he had been a little more welcoming. Especially, considering you thought he was really handsome…in a rockstar, grungy kind of way.

“Um…well…I work weekends sometimes for the library so…I don’t really know my schedule. So who knows when I can even go to a movie night…” Pushing your food with your fork again, you tried your best to sound nonchalant, and not like a movie night would be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Dustin frowned a little and took another bite of his sandwich, “Yeah, yeah. Okay…well…let us know…” He focused on his food and trailed off. You quickly looked up to Eddie, who was looking at you, but then looked away at his own food.

The rest of lunch was kind of awkward, with everyone making polite conversation about their “newest campaign” (whatever that was), and peppering questions in for you about your previous life in Ohio. Soon, the bell rang, and you made your way to the garbage can, throwing away the leftovers and sliding the tray on the collectable surface on top.

“Hey…” Eddie slid next to you, falling in line while you started to walk to your next class, “I’m sorry about Dustin. We don’t get a lot of…um, excitement? In Hawkins, so a new girl is quite a big deal for him, I guess,” He offered a smile, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s kind of sweet, actually. I like him…he seems nice.”

“Yeah…he is. He’s really nice.”

Your heart felt like it was being squeezed with the obvious tenderness Eddie had for Dustin. You both walked in silence for a second before he spoke again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the next time we do have a movie night, you are more than welcome to come. In fact, we’d love to have you. If you want, of course.” He said, avoiding eye contact. You brightened a bit.

“Yeah? Okay, then. I’d like that.”

“I’ll let you know, then. I do have to warn you, though – we usually watch strictly horror flicks.”

“Oh, no!” You squealed, a laugh rising within you, “I love horror movies but I get scared so easily…just make sure I have something to hold on to so when I jump in fear, I don’t fall off the couch!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, your mind immediately flashed an image of you in Eddie’s arms, nuzzling into his neck to hide from the movie playing on the television. Heat creeped into your neck, no doubt causing you to blush.

Eddie awkwardly cleared his throat, looking away, “Yeah, I’ll make sure to have a blanket or something…a super special blanket made to protect you from the big bad scary man on T.V.” He ended the sentence in a goofy voice, wiggling his fingers for affect. You scrunched your nose and giggled, both of you walking up to the entrance to your classroom.

Suddenly, the bell rang, giving you one minute to get to class. “Well…thanks for lunch today. And for the movie invite. I’ll see you around?” You said, smiling. Eddie nodded, rocking on his heels.

“Yeah, see you around.”

You turned to head into class and for some reason, looked back at Eddie. He was inching his way away from the door of your classroom, but made sure you were fully in your seat before walking away. Smiling to yourself, you sat down.

You were really starting to like Hawkins.

Saturday night, you found yourself in front of Eddie’s trailer, smoothing your shirt and taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. Your first time hanging out with someone from Hawkins – hanging out with anyone in months, really – and you were a bit nervous. Never mind the fact that you were seeing Eddie.

No…those nervous butterflies definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.

The trailer was on the smaller side, so you heard multiple voices right away. It seemed like you were one of the last ones to arrive, even though you were right on time. Suddenly, the door opened, and Eddie’s smiling face greeted you.

“You made it!” He said, ushering you inside. “Did you find my place okay?”

“Yeah, it was easy! You’re close to my house.” You said, walking into the trailer. Eddie shut the door behind you.

The trailer was homey – full of knick-knacks and memorabilia. Though the amount of stuff was overwhelming (in a good way), it was meticulously clean. You immediately felt at ease – almost at home.

The rest of Hellfire looked up at you in surprise. Eventually, Dustin smiled and stood up.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” He said, almost too excitedly. Immediately behind him, Mike rolled his eyes and Gareth, Jeff, and Dougie chuckled.

“Must have forgotten to mention it,” Eddie murmured quickly, guiding you to the couch, “Okay, who’s ready for the movie?!” He moved on quickly, shutting down any conversation Dustin was about to start. Dustin shot him a curious look and shrugged, heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll start to popcorn!” He called, opening the microwave.

You sat on the couch and Eddie immediately handed you a crocheted blanket. You looked at him, confused.

“The blanket…you know…to protect you from the big bad man on T.V…” He answered sheepishly, turning a light shade of scarlet. Your heart flipped at the recognition from the conversation you had a few days ago. Taking the blanket, you unfolded it and smiled.

“Oh, Eddie. Thanks. That’s so sweet.”

Eddie shrugged and sat down on the other side of the couch, leaving at least two people’s worth of space between you, “Yeah well, I couldn’t have you scared shitless your first time in my place.” He tried to wave it off like it was no big deal.

“So I’m assuming we’re watching a scary movie?”

“Not one, not two, but THREE scary movies!” Dougie said, holding up three fingers, “If you can handle it, that is.”

“Oh, she’ll be able to handle it,” Dustin said, coming back with a big bowl of popcorn. He sat next to you, offering the bowl, “Right, Brooke?”

You nodded, taking some popcorn. “I hope so.” You looked towards Eddie, only to find that he was already staring at you. When you made eye contact, he immediately looked away, fiddling with the remote in his hand. Your heart did a cartwheel, and you stifled a blush rising on your neck.

You certainly hoped so.  

---

Thank you all so much for reading! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes mean more than you know!

Taglist: @cosmicdanielle @sapphire4082

[lainiespicewrites]

Ugh home sick from work today I don’t know what it is but I feel like death 😢 I feel like our man Henry is so like nurturing and would be good at taking care of his sick girl. But which character do you think is the best at it?

I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s just me in my apartment taking care of myself so I’ve been daydreaming a lot 😂🤒

I don’t know why but my vote is either for Clark or Walt … but what do you guys think?

Walter would be very authoritative but in a way that I need because when I’m sick I still try to do things like that I just don’t need to be worried about out while I’m sick. And hold on let me see the scene !

I’ve been sleeping off whatever but I’ve caught from working in the clinic. When I wake up I’m finally starting to feel a little better. I pull off the covers slowly a shiver runs through me at the cool air. As I turn to get out of bet a voice startles me before my feet even hit the floor

“Where do you’re think you’re going?” The deep accent comes from my boyfriend standing in the door way arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame.

“I-i was just going to get up for a bit maybe try to eat something. And …”

“And nothing. I told you if you need something call. Back in bed darling. I’ve got everything taken care of.” I sigh and nod sitting up in bed.

“Good, now. Would you like some soup, I know your stomachs been rough probably better not try anything heavy.” I nod and give him a soft smile

“With some crackers and maybe some tea?” He smiles and crosses the room and places a kiss to my forehead

“I’ll be right back. Stay put I mean it,” he says as his thumb tenderly brushes over my cheek before he walks out of the bedroom.

But then Clark. Sweet sweet Clark. He’s the kind of person that would just notice. Notice you feel sick. Tuck you into bed. Baby you. Because being a care taker is just who he is it’s his love language!

Something like

“Hey? Are you alright,” Clark asked as I’m getting ready for work in the morning. I nod but it’s an absolute lie. My insides feel like a whirlpool and my body is achy.

Clark comes up behind me and brings hand hand around pressing the back of it to my forehead. “You’re burning up baby.” He says softly.

“I’ll be alright,” I reply weakly. Clark shakes his head.

“No you’re not going anywhere like this. Let’s get you back into some comfy clothes and in bed. He walks out of the room only to come back with a fresh pair of pjs. Once I’ve changed he wraps his arms around me pulling me into him. I melt immediately feeling comforted in his arms. He takes me back to bed and pulls the covers over me. He kicks over his shoes and crawls into bed next to me

“What about work?” I ask.

“I called Perry told him neither of us would be in today. I’m gonna take care of my girl.” He smiles softly brushing my hair off my forehead.

“Now get some rest baby I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

I don’t know what do you guys think? Which of Henry’s characters would be the best to have around when you’re sick?

[darling-heffron]

A/N: I AM SO SO SORRY FOR POSTING LATE! Totally my bad, I've just been busy with Christmas coming up but I swear this story will keep going even if its a day late! Hope you enjoy it, let us know what you think x

-Sol ☀️

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop , @mellow-human , @next-autopsy

Chapter Eight: The Rules of Mars

Sam’s POV:

Marleen Finch, the 20 year old from Illinois, was the epitome of why Sam did not pick up stragglers. 

The young woman was open, far too open. In the three days they had been together Sam unfortunately knew every single detail of the blonde girl's life. 

Sam had only shared two facts about herself, her name and her age. Both of which were forced from her by the persistent young blonde. 

The rest of the time Sam had spent with Marleen, the girl had talked about her family, upbringing and everything in between. She now knew why the young woman had gotten herself into so much trouble. Mars was far too trusting, loyal and kind. Traits in the normal world would be seen as civilised and friendly, but now in this new age were concerning and reckless. 

Mars could talk endlessly about anything and everything. Sam didn’t even need to converse back. Mars had the whole conversation covered. 

The overly friendly blonde seemed to be able to push every single one of Sam’s buttons. From the incessant talking, to getting very distracted, not being aware of her surroundings at any stage and prying into the taller blondes life. Sam seemed to be at her wits end, and it was only day three. She still had to make it to the next town and find someone who was stupid enough to agree to taking Mars. 

“I never had a sister. But I can imagine this is what it’s like.” The blonde skipped ahead with a daydreaming smile, “Don’t you think?” She asked as she twirled back to look at Sam. 

“Bambi.” Sam sighed, the name had stuck from their first meeting. Mars was the small wide eyed deer from the children’s movie. Her legs often got away from her, often causing Mars to stumble, trip or fall. Her big doe eyes found Sam with wide eyed innocence, so sweet it made Sam’s teeth hurt. And whenever there was danger afoot, the blonde seemed to get caught in the headlights, just like a deer. 

“What did I say about the skipping?” Sam ignored the initial comment Mars had made. The taller woman had found out the hard way that Marleen’s feelings were easily hurt. 

A few days ago Sam had made the girl cry after Mars had driven her to the point of madness. Samantha exploded at the young lady telling her to, ‘Shut the fuck up!’

The girl immediately burst into tears and sobbed the whole night. The next morning in a hoarse voice from crying Mars gave Sam a whispered apology. She then was in a funk the whole day until Sam had finally accepted her apology and forgiven her. Sending Mars instantly back into the happy go lucky girl she had gotten to know. 

“You said no skipping.” Mars stopped in her tracks huffing. The last time she was skipping she almost broke her ankle in a rabbit burrow. It would have been disastrous and most likely the end of the young woman’s life, as Sam was not that willing to stay with her the whole time her ankle healed. Luckily she got away with minor bruising and whining. 

“The rules are stupid.” Mars grumbled kicking the stones at her feet. 

“You’re more than welcome to leave.” Sam offered for what felt like the millionth time. 

“And leave you all alone. That wouldn’t be nice.” Mars teased as she fell into step next to Sam. 

“That would be the nicest thing you’ve ever done.” Sam mocked gratitude. 

“No, you’d miss me. Cause you love me!” The young blonde sidled up next to her tall companion, giving her a cheeky smile. Sam fought the urge to smile. She didn’t need to give the young girl any more motive to tease her. 

“Uh- what was that?!” The girl squealed in delight. Clearly Sam hadn’t been subtle enough about the smile that fought to tug at her lips. 

“Did you just smile?” Mars leapt in front of the taller woman’s path to look up at her. 

Sam shook her head trying to side step the excited Mars. “No I didn’t.” 

“You did! You did! I saw it! With my own eyes!!” Marleen pitch raised with each word. 

“Volume, Mars.” Sam corrected before the whole forest knew their exact location. 

“I saw you.” Marleen whispered as she finally stepped out of the way of her companion. Mars chuckled to herself, proud of her accomplishment, before tagging along behind her fast moving friend. 

Mars POV:

Marleen didn’t know much about her new companion, she knew her name was Sam, assumingly short for Samantha although not confirmed, she was 23 years old and she was alone. Sam kept telling Mars she preferred to be alone, although the younger woman didn’t believe it. 

She noticed little things about Sam; like how Sam would check up on Marleen when she thought the shorter girl wasn’t paying attention, she’d make sure Mars was still walking in the right direction and without touching, herd her until she was on the correct path. Or how she turned her head ever so slightly when Mars was ranting to show that she was listening- granted, she may not have done it consciously but it still warmed Marleen’s heart. 

The day that Mars was mostly quiet really proved it to her though. After Sam snapped at her, which in turn caused her to spend the night crying, Marleen tried her hardest not to piss the older girl off anymore. 

The simplest way to do that was to apologise and shush. 

And that’s how they spent the entire second day together, in a weird silence. Sam had given Marleen all sorts of looks, starting with glares and eye rolls but slowly they got more concerned. Mars never said anything about these looks but she knew she saw them, microexpressions that spoke louder than Sam ever had. 

Mars had long enough to study Sam(antha?) and wasn’t surprised when she had accepted the apology in her own way- “Would you stop sulking?” Sam had asked her that evening as they settled down for the night. 

“I’m not sulking.” Marleen had tried to be convincing but even she could hear the childlike pout in her mumbled retort. She didn’t mean to act so immature, but being yelled at was not something she was used to and she quickly found out it wasn’t something she liked very much. 

Mars had expected a sarcastic response from Sam, maybe a snarky 'Sure you aren’t' but it never came. Instead the girls sat in a patch of quiet, a nice kind of quiet, the calm kind. 

“Why are you in New York?” The unexpected question had the shorter girl reeling and she froze in disbelief- 'was Sam instigating a conversation with her?' Marleen’s hesitation had turned the calm moment they were sharing into an uncomfortable one. 

“I just-“ Sam sighed, “You talk a lot about going home to Illinois, so why were you in New York when all this happened?” 

“Oh- right! I uh, sorry.” Mars has to find the words, this was the first time Sam had voiced interest in her; she could feel the walls breaking down and it excited her to no end. This was the moment Mars realised they could truly be friends, that Sam cared, even if she acted like she didn’t. It would be hard but Mars would befriend the moody angry woman if it was the last thing she did. 

“I moved to New York last year.” She finally picked the right words, doing everything to keep Sam’s attention. “I was studying at NYU, got a scholarship and everything. I didn’t really want to move away from home, from my family, my two older brothers both work for the family business. I had the biggest FOMO- you do know what that means right?” She asked Sam as she crinkled her brows unsure of what Mars had just blurted out. 

“It’s fear of missing out, F.O.M.O.” Mars didn’t wait to confirm that Sam had understood before she carried on, “Everything seemed to be happening at home, my brother and his wife had their little family, dad was training my second brother to take over the shop. Everyone seemed to have their place. But not me. I mean- I had my place in my family, but uh- ugh, it's hard to explain.” The younger blonde was finding it difficult to articulate what exactly she felt about her family. She loved them of course, she shouldn’t be complaining her family was amazing, the love they all shared was picture perfect. 

So Mars felt like a whiny ungrateful child when she complained about her picturesque family, but there was something that was missing, it made her feel empty and useless- she pushed extra hard trying to make up for this missing piece although nothing seemed to work. 

“It’s ok Mars, you don’t have to explain it to me. I think I understand.” Sam said lightly, Marleen’s head shot up from its position. Firstly the girl had used her actual name and secondly she was being kind. It swirled butterflies in the young blonde’s gut. 

So she continued, “My parents felt as if I wasn’t living up to my potential. And then the scholarship came up and everyone was so proud of me. I knew my parents wanted me to go, but I didn’t even have time to think of what I wanted. I thought maybe this was the thing that would make things right, to be away from home, live my own life. I know that sounds incredibly selfish but I wanted to get away and just- Be!” Mars barely took a breath between sentences, constantly rambling, “I have always been known as a Finch, never Marleen. I’m always Rowan and Brendan’s little sister. Or Desmond and Erin’s daughter.” Mars huffed out, finally pausing long enough for the other woman to speak.

“So, why are you going back then?” Sam enquired as Mars caught her breath. 

“Because, I love them. Yes, I was having some trouble finding myself amongst everyone else but it’s my family. I fit, I have a place.” It seemed like she was trying to convince herself at this point, hammering home the idea of her fitting. 

“I’m their golden child.” Mars wiggled her eyebrows trying to make light of the situation, but the heaviness of her statement weighed on her chest all the same.  

Sam’s lips puckered as she watched the girl intently. 

“What? You don’t think it’s a good thing?” She asked the older of the pair. 

Samantha tilted her head in thought, “I think that’s a lot of pressure.” That was all that she said but the seriousness of her comment slammed into Mars like a tonne of bricks. 

The older girl was right, it was so much pressure. But look at diamonds, they’re formed under pressure. The most beautiful and expensive gem on earth. How is a little pressure bad? At the same time Mars felt as if she was suffocating, like she was forced into the depths of the ocean.

“So that’s why I went to NYU. To ‘find myself’ I guess.” Mars wasn’t so sure now why she took the scholarship. 

“I want to be a reporter. I think.” Mars seemed to be flustered, everything she had convinced herself she wanted so badly seemed to be crumbling at her feet. 

“And you liked it there?” Sam asked gently. 

“Yeah, I have my own little apartment. In a dodgy area, but my neighbours-” Mars choked on her sentence. Here she was venting all of her feelings to Sam, when Denver, the one who had saved her life in the first place was missing, and she was unsure of the predicament he was in. 

Mars swallowed her emotions. “My neighbours are really nice. Well one of them, but um-” She wanted to steer the conversation away from her lost friend. 

“I’m not sure I liked journalism. My mom wanted me to be on tv- a news presenter or something.” Marleen fidgeted with her nails, her stare was locked onto the floor- guilt flooded off her, “But now we won’t know. Cause you know, the end of the world and everything. I just want to get home and make sure they’re all alright.” Mars didn’t want to think of the possibility that things weren’t ok at home. Mars knew her family, they were strong, they would survive this and she would make sure of it by getting home safely.  

“Wow, you must really love your family.” Mars gave Sam a puzzled look. “Well, just- to go across so many states to get back to them.” The older girl clarified. 

“I think I would go to the ends of the earth for my family. I mean, wouldn’t everyone?” Mars looked over to Sam. Her big brown eyes filled with so much love and compassion it made Sam’s heart squeeze. The young girl had only known love and kindness from her kin, she lived a sheltered enough life to believe even if they did you wrong, they still loved you with all their being. 

A sad smile plagued the taller blondes lips, “Yeah, something like that.” She brushed away the mental images of her own parents, “We should get some shut eye.” Sam straightened, “It’s going to be a long walk tomorrow.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The younger of the two spoke softly. Sam had stood from her position so now she stared down at the blonde. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bambi.” Sam tried to lighten the mood, not something she would normally do, so the smile that slid onto her lips felt forced like a grimace. But Mars didn’t seem to care whether or not it looked unnatural on Sam, her own sweet smile, one that could blind, spread onto her face when she realised that Sam had smiled at her on purpose for the first time since they had been together. 

“Sure thing, Sammy!” Mars sprung to her feet, remembering to not grab onto Sam like she would usually do. 

“Don’t call me that.” The older scolded but her tone was far from harsh, Mars would even reach to say it was endearing. 

Sam’s POV

The girl’s had been together for a week, and had fallen into a rhythm. Sam led and Mars followed, without a care in the world. Her near constant chatter had resumed, she told Sam about her siblings and how much she cared for them. Her two overprotective brothers liked to be the only people that were allowed to mess with her. 

Sam listened to her go on and on about how her brothers didn’t play fair in childhood games. Specifically, Brendan- he would always trick her and it wound her up in a way that only siblings can.  

“Ugh, playing ‘Tag’ with him was the woooorst!” Marleen cried out, “He would pretend that our older brother Rowan was ‘it’ when really; it was him! But I would trust him and when he was close enough, he’d tag me and run off! Like- how rude!” 

A lightbulb flickered to life above Sam’s head- she’d have to teach Bambi how to survive or she’d surely be taken advantage of. When another group took Mars in, she’d have to know how to protect herself, who she could trust- how to survive. Sam wouldn't be there to look after the short girl but she could pass on some wisdom before they split up. 

“I probably would’ve been able to tell that he was tricking you - I mean, if I were there, I could’ve warned you.” Sam spoke up for the first time in the conversation. 

“How would you have known? He’s a pretty good liar when he wants to be.” 

“Rules.” 

“Huh?” Marleen’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion only for a second before something Sam had told her earlier reappeared in her head, the rule that Sam was referencing clicked, in tandem both blondes called out, “Sam knows best.”  Maybe Sam’s training was actually rubbing off on Mars.

The pair grew closer as time went on, at least Marleen thought so- being together 24/7 for almost an entire week tended to turn strangers into friends. 

The route Sam had picked out kept them in mostly unpopulated areas, they only ventured into townships when they needed supplies- which was also something Sam was in charge of. Mars just blindly trusted her but she was happy to do so. Sam had kept Marleen alive so far, making sure she was fed, watered and not sleep deprived. 

The pair had only encountered a few undead, steering clear of them was the way to go unless it was unavoidable- then Sam dealt with them while Mars hung back. Sam had a mental note to spend some time teaching the younger girl how to wield her weapon, giving her the confidence to fight if and when she needed to. 

Timing was an issue. There was hardly a right time to stop and teach a combat class when rabids were on the loose. 

Voices broke the comfortable silence the girls had found themselves in. Sam had requested one unbroken hour of quiet time per day so she could keep her sanity intact. 

Sam’s closed fist raised, signalling to her companion to halt all movements- a sign used commonly in the army. However, Mars didn’t have the memo. She kept walking, eyes focused on the ground in front of her, so when she smacked her body directly into the back of Sam’s, it was all the more unexpected. 

“Oof.” The younger blonde let out when she tumbled to the floor, landing in a sitting position. Sam only sighed, she’d have to work on that.  

The voices that had prompted a brief pause in their walking, grew louder and now Mars had picked up on the situation. She quietly got up and crouched next to Sam, mirroring the older girl's stance. 

A group of living people came into view- there were around seven or eight people, men, women and even a child. Mars' heart dropped, she had hoped that Sam had forgotten the pinky promise they had made to each other at the beginning of their journey. Sam had said if she found another group to take Mars she wouldn’t hesitate to send her away. The young blonde chewed nervously on her lip as she watched Sam observe the group. 

The people wandered aimlessly through the forest, they looked gaunt and tired. Her chest became tight, they didn’t look like they were doing well at all. The young child trailed slowly behind them, his feet dragging along the ground. 

“Come on, Jimmy, pick up the pace we need to find shelter before nightfall.” The woman who Mars assumed was his mother, called out. 

“My feet hurt!” Came the whiny reply. Mars chuckled knowing the feeling but was silenced by a single look from Sam. “This sucks!” The child continued complaining in his high pitched tone. 

“Yeah, well too bad! Do you want to die?” The oldest man in the group spoke, quickly swivelling around from his position in front. Jimmy froze, tears welling in his eyes before he started to sob. 

“Graham!” The mother scolded before walking over to the young boy who clutched himself into a hug. She scooped the child into her arms and squeezed him tight, “Shhhh, don’t listen to him. He’s just grumpy cause he's tired.” 

The group walked on, completely unaware that they were being watched and soon they were out of the blonde duo's sight. 

Mars wanted to speak up and ask Sam why she had just let them go past without talking to them, she truly thought this would’ve split them up and Sam would be on her way. 

Yet, the shorter woman hesitated; maybe Sam had forgotten? It’s very possible it slipped her mind and Mars didn't want to remind her. 

They waited until the fading voices of the group were nonexistent, gone entirely, then Sam stood to her full height and kept walking like nothing happened. 

Not wanting to be left behind, Mars copied her companion, jogging to catch up with the fast paced woman. 

“You missed your opportunity.” Marleen whispered, they had been quiet for so long it was odd to speak again. 

Sam’s eyes never left where she was walking. “They seemed like they had enough problems without you.” 

That was all she said before they fell back into silence. 

An hour passed, maybe two; Mars had kept quiet - very unlike herself, the only thing that could be heard was the footsteps of the two women. 

“You going to ask or are you just going to keep quiet and wonder?” Sam spoke up, she stopped moving and turned to the younger. 

“Uh-“ For probably the first time ever, Mars was speechless. Of course she wanted to know but some irrational part of her thought that if she said the wrong thing, Sam might leave her here. In the woods. By herself. 

“You want to know the reason I didn’t leave you with that group, don’t you?” The words were taken out of Marleen’s mouth and all she could do was nod blankly at the older woman. 

“That group isn’t going to last long. They were most likely low on food and water, if I left you with them you’d all be dead within a week.” Sam didn’t leave room for arguments, “I promised to find you a group or person who could take you- they couldn’t.” 

The grin that crept onto Marleen’s face was astronomical. 

“I knew you liked me.” Mars told her friend, ignoring Sam’s eye roll at her comment and stepping ahead to resume their path. 

“Yeah, whatever Bambi.” 

A/N: Personally I love these girls and their black cat/golden retriever dynamic!!

-Sol ☀️

[friendlyneighborhoodsynthezoid]

More Pirate Batch! Wrecker

One more right away, just to prove I've got the rest on the way.

Wrecker was content with his life as a dock worker. Or so he told himself, daily, while he spent long hours hauling heavy crates to and fro in the relentless wind and heat. Wrecker knew he was a strong guy, but even he was going to bed exhausted and dreading the morning that would begin the cycle of endless work once again. Until one day, he spied a strange looking visitor to the docks. A young man, maybe Wreckers age, stepped off a peculiar-looking ship, docked clumsily and with evident difficulty in a secluded corner in the pier. Wrecker would never claim himself to be the brightest sort, but to his eyes, this guy looked green. Both literally, and meta… figur… and that he looked inexperienced. The hat and coat he wore were impressive but didn’t quite fit him right. The ship was sleek and looked well armed, but it appeared damaged and shoddily repaired. And this kid stepped off the ship alone, with no visible escort or companions, and walked right past where Wrecker was gawking without even seeming to see him.

The whole of his workday, Wrecker’s thoughts kept straying to the half-hidden ship and the strange fellow who captained it. That evening, Wrecker went to it and undid the rope which held it. It was a sorry job that Wrecker couldn’t stand not correcting. With a mighty tug, the ship straightened out and drifted closer to the pier, where he fastened it more securely. Wrecker sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the side and daydreaming about weaponry when raised voices caught his attention.

“Hey, you! With the silly hat!” Wrecker turned his head slightly towards the shout, not moving just yet. It didn’t pay to get involved and escalate things when it wasn’t necessary.

“Well lookie here,” a different voice added, “we’ve caught ourselves a Fett!”

That make Wrecker whip his head around, subtly be damned. Wrecker would never presume to be knowledgeable about, well, anything, but even he recognized that name. He scanned the docks until his eyes alighted on the same young man he’d noticed that morning. His carefully constructed air of confidence was cracking slightly as he took small steps back from two hulking figures lurching towards him.

“Hey, fellas, I was just leaving-” he tired, hands up placatingly.

“Yeah, right,” snorted one of the thugs- he was big and ugly, sure, but wrecker decided he could be dealt with, “you’re leaving, Fett? No way yer Jango. Not parading about with no backup and a coat that don’t even fit. You one of his brats?” he punctuated the sentence with a sharp jab of his huge finger. Wrecker’s feet were carrying him closer without any input from his brain.

The young man rolled his eyes, “I dunno about any Fett, but-” his gaze caught Wrecker’s and flashed from searching, to scheming, and finally, smug confidence, “-what was that you said about backup?” he ducked, turned and ran as the two thugs turned to find Wrecker behind them.

Wrecker gave them a chance. “You guys wanna back off and let this one go?” he asked. He meant it, too, but it seemed to Wrecker that people only ever wanted to solve problems by punching them. This suited him just fine. Predictably, the thugs bared teeth and fists, and wrecker mourned the state of peace he’d enjoyed minutes before. Oh well. It would be a short fight.

_______

 A short time later, Wrecker was sitting idly by the water, watching the sunlight play across the rippling surface of the bay. A smoky voice sounded from behind him. “Hey pal, you looking for a career change?”

“What?” Wrecker yelped and turned around to find the young captain standing over him with a calculating sort of smile. “What’re you- but who- i’m just a dock hand!” 

The guy rolled his eyes. “Right. A dock hand who just saved my stupid skin, and – I notice- pulled my ship into port with your bare hands. You, my friend, are something special.” he sat down next to him, kicking his booted feet a little. “The names Hunter Fett, and I’m looking for a crew. I could use a big guy like you. You can probably guess why-" Wrecker tried not to glance at the man's short stature- "I can promise one hell of an adventure if you join up. And a significant amount of firepower.” Wrecker’s eyes lit up, for his nickname was well chosen. Firearms and cannons were his great obsession and his best talent. Hunter smirked. “I may be short on men, but I’ve got guns galore.”

And so Wrecker's new life began.

[empresskadia]

Alright, Round 3 because I was supposed to be writing something else but I crashed and burned for a bit. So, hear me out please:

-

Linda-058 likes to sneak up on her partner when they're not aware and hug them from behind. She tends to do this at the end of the day in your quarters, usually when you're so busy or stressed or when you're occupied with something else that you never see or hear her coming. She lives for the delight on your face when you turn to see her, and she can feel your heartbeat through her chest while she places her chin on your shoulder. It makes her day.

-

Kelly-087 likes to steal her partner's food. She swears that it just tastes better than her food when you catch her. It doesn't matter if it's the same MRE, the same food from the mess, or food you packed yourself, she will steal it. The first time you packed her the same lunch as you and brought it to her at the start of the day, Fred could've sworn she was skipping for the rest of the day.

-

The fastest way to fluster Cal-141 is to unexpectedly hold her hand. It's adorable how she has to confirm that it's your hand in hers and then pretend to not be excited that you are. Sometimes, she forgets where she is and just stares at your conjoined hands in wonder and daydreams of what life after the war would be like for the both of you. It makes fighting this war worth it if she gets to see that wintery cabin in her dreams become reality.

-

It's easy for Sarah Palmer to forget that, beneath the armor and rank, that she's human too. She often goes for long periods without sleep and pushes herself to be the very best for every soul under her command and on the Infinity. It's only with her partner that she truly lets her vulnerable side free. After one particularly stressful day, you had suggested she take a break and slow dance with you. It was in your arms, swaying to the music with her head to your chest, that she found peace. It's the little moments at the end of the day that make she lives for.

When I say I'm screaming and kicking my feet, I really am. OMG THOSE ARE SO CUTE! I love seeing you in my inbox. You are giving me every reason to make a Sarah Palmer relationship headcanons post. I'm tempted to link these on my masterlist if you're okay with it.

I think seeing the delight on her partner's face makes Linda feel so loved. Like she's more than a Spartan, a feeling she didn't realize she enjoyed until you.

All I imagine is Kelly running through the ship with her lunch above her head in utter delight. But also I agree with Kelly, stealing your partner's food always tastes better. This habit soon develops in you two sharing different meals, like you get one thing and Kelly gets another, then split it between you too and Kelly still steals off your plate.

It grounds Cal when she feels her partner's hand in hers. It's like a warmth that pulls her back to reality no matter how far her mind has traveled. And if you ever kiss her hand while holding it, Cal.exe has stopped working. She's also one to think about the future together even though she knows she shouldn't.

Sarah has slowly realized she can't pull rank on her partner because you just look at her with a 'try again' expression and continue to pull her out of her workaholic phase. Honestly, acts of service are her language, anytime her partner cares for her, brings her coffee, and genuinely just asks how her day is going or to tell them about her day, she feels so loved. AS SHE SHOULD