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prettyfilmz · 5 months ago

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SWEET LIKE CANDY • JEY USO

author’s note: did someone say new mini series ? 👀 well yes! although writing is gonna be quite slow due to school starting backup, I wanted to leave you guys with something cute starring our 2025 royal rumble winner jey uso🤭 forgive me for not giving you smut in this first part but trust me when I say it’ll be worth it in the long run. I hope you enjoy this my loves, and happy reading💗 (p.s. I made a playlist to go along with it, you can shuffle it up too🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ you can find it here)

synopsis: in which a celebration at the strip club leads to the beginning of a love affair between a wrestler and a dancer.

pairing: jey uso x black fem oc!cherise aka candy

tags: 18+ (there’s no smut but still has suggestive themes), slow burn, drinking, lap dances, lewd conversations, teasing, lots of touching, kissing, pet names (baby, mama, pretty girl. baby girl), flirty banter, jey falls for her at first glance.

word count: 2k words (somethin’ short n sweet😌)

The bass reverbs through the strip club, rattling the walls like a second heartbeat. The air was thick with marijuana smoke, spilled drinks, and anticipation. It was the kind of place that dared you to loosen up, a melting pot of the desperate, the indulgent, and those just looking to forget about the realities of their day to day lives.

Jey, sitting on the edge of a low velvet couch, nursed a glass of hennessy, his dark brown eyes surveying the scene with feigned disinterest. Jimmy, on the other hand, leaned back beside him, grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, a few shots in and already loving every second of the night.

“This the spot, Uce,” Jimmy drawled, gesturing at the stage. “Told you. Ain’t no better way to celebrate your Rumble win than seeing a few bad ones tearing it up on the stage.”

Jey wasn’t convinced. He leaned forward, elbows on his jean covered knees, his silver chain glinting in the low light. “Man, you know this ain’t my scene. I only came ‘cause y’all don’t shut up. Coulda stayed home, kicked my feet up, and played my game.”

Jimmy clicked his tongue. “Nah, Uce. This is a night of celebration. Tonight’s the night we get you to let loose.” He raised his glass in a mock toast.

Across the room, Trinity —or her stage name called her—Naomi. The long-legged, dark skinned goddess with waist-length black & neon green braids and thighs to die for worked her magic. She straddled some middle-aged white guy in a button-down, grinding with a confidence that made her the club’s crown jewel. She caught Jimmy’s eye and gave a sly smile with a wink for good measure.

“Yo, there she go!” Jimmy grinned, practically bouncing in his seat. “My girl, Trin. You see that, Jey? That’s art. Respect the glow.”

Jey rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “Bruh, you actin’ like she your girl for real.”

“She is though,” Jimmy shot back, the grin never leaving his face. And it wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t even subtle about it. Whenever Jimmy showed up, Trinity made a beeline for him, and they always disappeared into the VIP section.

Jey chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You wild.”

But his attention shifted when the next dancer strolled onto the stage.

“Alright fellas, hold onto your Benjamin’s ‘cause it’s about to get sweet up in here! Coming to the stage, she’s sugar, spice and everything nice, with curves so delicious you’ll forget your own name. Be careful though, she might leave you with some cavities by the end of the night. Give it up for the lovely Candy!”

The second she stepped out, the crowd of men leaned forward, like hungry sharks. She wasn’t like the others though. She was new, fresh-faced, and a bundle of nerves. But that didn’t matter right this second. She played the part, masking her shyness behind a seductive smile that could melt anyone with a pulse.

Candy was beyond gorgeous. Her smooth, brown skin shimmered under the stage lights, and the crimson two-piece she wore clung to every dip and swell of her body. Her hips swayed to the R&B song, deliberate, teasing.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy whistled low. “New girl got somethin’ fierce, huh?”

Jey was speechless, he couldn’t look away. Her curly hair was pulled into a updo, soft coils framing her soft, heart-shaped face. Full lips painted glossy pink parted into a playful pout as she ran her hands down her figure, playing to the crowd. But her eyes. Those big, dark, and doe-like eyes held a hint of innocence she couldn’t quite shake.

“Yeah, somethin’ for sure,” Jey muttered under his breath, heat pooling low in his groin.

Candy noticed him immediately. She was used to clients ogling her—most of them practically drooled or disgustingly grabbed their crotch in front of her—but he was different. He had this calm, magnetic energy, like he was letting her come to him. It made her stomach flip, even as she forced her most sultry grin.

When her set ended, and the applause faded, Candy slipped off the stage. But not before glancing over her shoulder and locking eyes with Jey.

♡

"You heard who's out there tonight, right?" Trinity grinned, her deep brown eyes glinting with mischief as she adjusted the thin straps of her bra. "You about to be real blessed, baby girl."

Cherise arched a perfectly sculpted brow, feigning disinterest. "Oh yeah? Who?"

Trinity sucked her teeth, nudging her shoulder. "Don’t act cute, Cher. The man of the damn hour is in VIP. Your VIP, might I add."

Cherise played coy, but her stomach did a little flip. She’d already heard that Jey Uso was here tonight. And apparently, he was her very first private dance.

Her pulse raced.

"He cute or whateva,” she said, glossing over the fact that she was a fan. She’d watched him claw his way to being a singles star. And now he was here, in her club, about to have her in his lap.

Trinity laughed, low and knowing. "Oh, he real cute, baby. And he got that mouth on him. Knows how to talk to a woman, make her feel good." She winked, nudging her shoulder with her own.

Cherise rolled her eyes but smiled. "You sound like you speaking from experience."

"Nah, Jimmy got my full attention," Trinity purred, licking her lips. "Speaking of which, you know that man is gonna be deep in this pussy before the night over. So if you hear me make any noise, mind your business."

Cherise giggled, shaking her head. "Y’all so damn nasty."

Trinity flipped her braids over her shoulder. "Mmhmm, and you 'bout to be nasty too. Just don’t let Jey have you falling, mama. These wrestlers? They dangerous."

Cherise smirked. "I can handle myself."

Trinity just laughed, giving her ass a playful slap before strutting off toward VIP.

Cherise exhaled slowly, fixing the sheer, sparkly robe draped over her curvy figure.

Showtime.

♡

The VIP room was warm, lit with soft purple lights that shined against the dark leather couch and mirrored walls. Private, sensual. The kind of space that invited sin.

Jey sat in the middle of it, legs spread, shades still covering his eyes, hands resting on his thick thighs.

He looked too good, too comfortable, like he belonged there with his chains glinting under the dim lighting. And he was waiting for her.

Cherise stepped inside, hips swaying slow, the confidence she wore so well settling around her like perfume. She was used to this, knew the game, knew how to keep them entertained just enough to keep ‘em hungry. But this was Jey.

And she already knew—he was different.

Jey’s gaze dragged up her body, slow like drizzling honey, lingering on her thick thighs, the way her curves filled out the soft red lace she had on. He smirked, licking his lips. "Damn, mama… that’s what they lettin’ you walk around in back here?"

Cherise stopped in front of him, rolling her hips to the bass-heavy R&B music vibrating through the walls. "You like it, baby?”

"Shit…" Jey let his head tilt back against the couch, eyes dark, hooded. "I love it."

Cherise bit back a grin. "Flatterin’ me ain’t gon’ get you nothin’ extra, baby."

"Who said I was tryna get somethin’ extra?" He grinned. "I’m just speakin’ my truth.”

She let her hands trail over chest, feeling the solid warmth of him and the occasional thump of his heartbeat. "Mmm…I bet you be runnin’ game on every girl in here.”

"Nah." Jey licked his lips. "I’on even be in places like this, baby. My brother dragged me."

"Mmhm." She slid onto his lap, her thighs bracketing his, their faces inches apart. "So if I ask the bouncers how many girls you pulled back here, they gon’ say none?"

Jey exhaled a laugh, fingers flexing on her hips. "They gon’ tell you I been sittin’ in that VIP all night, mindin’ my business."

Cherise hummed, her fingers playing at the chain around his neck. "So what makes me special then?"

Jey tilted his head, watching her close. "You tell me, baby girl." His voice was deep, lazy, smooth as melted honey. "I ain’t the one who picked this dance. You did."

She smirked. "That’s cute."

"Ain’t it?" His grip on her hips tightened, dragging her a little closer. "Nah, for real, I can tell. You move different. You one of them girls that don’t let just anybody dude here, huh?"

"Mm-mm." Cherise dragged her nails lightly over soft curls on the back of his neck. "I’m picky."

"Yeah?" His fingers slid up her back, teasing at the base of her spine. "How I make the cut then?"

"I dunno…” She let her lips brush his jaw, just barely. "Maybe I got a thing for wrestlers."

Jey chuckled, low and deep, squeezing her waist. "You watch me, huh?"

"I keep up."

"Ain’t that somethin’." He leaned in, pressing his nose against her cheek. "And here I was thinkin’ I had to make you a fan."

"Mmm, you still might have to work for it." She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, slow and teasing, right before she rolled her hips against his.

Jey sucked in a breath, his grip turning just a little rougher. “Aye, don’t play wit’ me, pretty girl.”

"Who’s playin’?" She dragged her lips down his throat, slow and deliberate, her hands traveling up his body, feeling the soft tonedness of his stomach. "You like that, Joshua?"

Jey froze.

His hands tensed on her ass, and she felt the shift, the way his whole body reacted to the way his real name left her lips.

"Damn…" He exhaled a quiet laugh, pressing his forehead to hers. "That’s how we doin’ it, huh?”

"Mmm…" She kissed the corner of his mouth. "That’s how I’m doin’ it."

"You somethin’ else, Candy…” His lips grazed hers, barely there, his breath warm against her mouth. "You gon’ drive me crazy, ain’t you?"

"Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

Jey groaned, squeezing her thigh. "You know what’s wild?"

“Enlighten me.”

"You sittin’ on me, talkin’ shit, got me damn near ready to risk everything in this bitch… and you still ain’t tell me your name."

Cherise laughed, slow and sweet, sliding a hand up his throat to his jaw. “You ain’t ask right."

"Oh, so I gotta ask nice?" His lips ghosted over hers again, teasing, taunting, barely touching but still driving her crazy. "That what you want, baby girl?"

"Mmm… maybe…" She let her tongue flick out, just barely tasting his lower lip.

Jey growled, deep in his throat, and finally…finally closed the space, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and damn near dangerous.

Cherise melted into it, letting herself enjoy the way he tasted—Hennessy, something minty, something just Jey. His grip on her waist turned possessive, fingers digging in the flesh of her ass, rolling her just right against him.

His tongue slid against hers, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to memorize her taste.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Time’s up!"

They both froze.

Jey groaned, pulling back, licking his lips like he was pissed about the interruption. "Damn…"

Cherise smirked, slipping off his lap, dragging her fingers down his chest as she stood. "Guess you’ll have to come back if you wanna finish."

Jey leaned back, legs still spread, watching her. "You somethin’ else, girl."

She paused at the door, hesitated then turned back, biting her lip. "Cherise."

"Huh?"

"That’s my name."

Jey exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he watched her walk to the door. She gave him one last look with a small smile perched on her kiss-swollen lips, “Get home safe, Joshua.” and finally exited the room.

"Cherise…" he repeated under his breath, the taste of her cherry flavored lip gloss still plaguing his taste buds in the most amazing way. "Yeah, I’ma see you again, baby girl.”

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vibewithma · 5 days ago

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Sinners Modern!Au

Preacher boy/Sammie x Black Church Girl!Reader

A/N: Clearing up some old drafts🥱 are y’all watching Love Island USA? CAUSE I GOT A LOT TO SAY

When you finally creep back into the house, it’s damn near three in the morning. The rain’s stopped, but your hair’s damp, your lips swollen and your whole body still buzzing with Sammie’s hands, mouth, voice. You’re sure you’re floating.

But soon as you crack your bedroom door open, you’re snatched right back to earth.

Because there, smack in the middle of your bed, is Dawn.

In her faded pink mumu dress, bonnet slightly askew, looking like she’s been posted up thinking deep generational thoughts. Eyes wide, hands folded on her stomach.

You jump, hand flying to your chest. “Girl! You scared me. Why you in here like a lil ghost?”

Dawn squints at you, then sits up slow. “Why you just getting home at three in the morning?”

You ignore that, dropping your purse on the floor. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you been sittin’ with the ancestors.”

She sighs, pats the bed. “Come here.”

You hang your jacket over your stool and crawl in beside her, pulling your knees up. “Alright. Spill. What happened?”

Dawn takes a deep breath. “So… after I left that lil salon? Stack was outside. We talked. It was cool, he was real regular. But then, this woman walked up. With a baby on her hip. Told Stack straight up that’s his child, handed the baby over, then walked off.”

Your eyes snap wide. “What?!”

“Yup.” Dawn flops back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling like it’s got answers. “And he went after her. Left me standin’ there lookin’ dumb. Now I’m over here thinkin’… maybe all them rumors Chris was talkin’ ‘bout? True.”

You bite your lip. You did tell her. But that’s your sister, so instead you rub her shoulder. “Aw, Dawn… I’m sorry, baby. That’s rough. Come on, don’t let it eat you up. It ain’t a reflection on you it’s him. And look, if you wanna stay in here tonight, you can. I don’t mind.”

She nods quickly, sniffling once. “Thank you. I didn’t wanna be by myself.”

So you both shift under the blanket, settling in shoulder to shoulder. It’s quiet for a minute. Then Dawn peeks over at you, eyes narrowing.

“…Where you been, anyway?”

You bust out laughing, face hot. “Oh my days. Okay, okay. Sammie called me after my shower, said he wanted to see me. I told him it was late, he didn’t care. Pulled up on me ten minutes later.”

Dawn sits up on her elbow, instantly nosy. “And??”

You bite your lip, then grin. “He took me to the beach. Had a whole lil picnic set up. We danced… then it started raining so we went in his car.”

“Cute.” Dawn wiggles her brows. “What happened in the car?”

You hide your face in the pillow. “Dawn…”

“Girl! Tell me!”

“…Okay. We were kissing. And then I kinda got in his lap. Started grinding on him.”

Dawn squeals and smacks your arm. “Y/N! I’m so proud of you! Did you do the lil one and two things I showed you? You know the talking, the switching up how you kiss, all that?”

You groan, covering your face. “Yes! I did. And he was losing his mind. Said he wanted to stay like that forever.”

Dawn kicks her feet, giddy. “I trained you well! Look at my Church Girl out here actin’ up.”

“Stop callin’ me that. That’s Sammie’s line,” you mumble, but you’re smiling hard.

Dawn wiggles closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. For real. Even if Stack turn out to be a mess, at least one of us got a man who’s sprung.”

You snuggle closer, pressing your forehead to hers. “You gon’ be alright, Dawn. I promise. Now shut up so we can sleep.”

“Fine… but tomorrow, I want every detail again.”

“Deal.”

And with that, you both drift off, giggling like kids, the best kind of safe.

It’s already Sunday and the air outside the church is thick with summer heat and the sweet scent of someone’s peach cobbler drifting from the fellowship hall. Folks fan themselves on the front steps, catching up on gossip before service. You stand there too, trying to listen to Dawn chatter about some girl’s awful hat, but your mind is far, far away.

Because Sammie’s not here.

He always comes, even if he slips in late, head ducked, giving you that crooked grin like he’s got a secret just for you. But today? Nowhere.

You keep glancing back at the lot, hoping to see that his car roll in. But there’s nothing but old Buicks and deacons’ Chevys.

And it stings.

Because it’s not just that he’s not here, it’s that he hasn’t texted you.

Not once.

Not since that night.

That night in his car when your hands were in his curls and his hands were everywhere, warm and needy, making you forget your own name.

You thought it meant something.

Thought he’d at least send a “you good?” or a “last night was crazy, huh?”

But you’ve got nothing.

So when you sit down in your usual pew, your heart is heavy. Every hymn sounds like it’s about you, every scripture feels like a low blow. When the Pastor Moore says, “Be careful giving your heart to someone who only wants your body,” your throat tightens up so bad you can barely swallow.

You peek over at Dawn, hoping she didn’t notice the way you flinched. But of course she did. She squeezes your hand.

“Still nothing from him?” she whispers.

You just shake your head, eyes glued to the pulpit.

“Girl… you don’t think he just wanted…” She trails off, but you know what she means.

“That’s exactly what I been thinking,” you murmur, voice cracking despite how hard you try to keep it steady. “That he just wanted to… you know. Get me like that. And now he’s done.”

Dawn frowns, squeezing your hand tighter. “Y/N, no. He don’t seem like that. He always looking at you like you’re a blessing he don’t deserve.”

You let out a hollow little laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess I was wrong. Should’ve listened to my own sermons about temptation, huh?”

Dawn bumps your shoulder. “Stop. Don’t do that. You’re allowed to want somebody. And it didn’t seem one-sided to me.”

Still, you can’t shake it. Not through the rest of service, not through the old lady hugs on the way out.

Because your phone stays quiet.

No call.

No text.

No Sammie.

And for the first time, you really wonder if he ever wanted more than just the feel of you in his lap and your mouth on his.

If maybe you were just a warm, pretty thing to make him forget his troubles for a night and now he’s moved on.

And that thought sits in your chest like a stone, heavy and cold, all the way home.

The sun is starting to dip low, painting the sky with streaks of lavender and fire, and the neon sign above the door to the Juke Joint finally hums to life.

Tonight’s the night.

Opening night.

Inside, the club is alive with anticipation bass checks rumble through the floor, lights swirl lazily overhead. People are already milling around outside, waiting for the doors to open. Smoke stands by the DJ booth adjusting wires, Stack is checking the bar inventory, and Sammie? He’s pacing.

He runs a hand through his curls, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Boy, you look like somebody’s nervous groom,” Stack teases, wiping his hands on a bar rag.

“Man, shut up,” Sammie mutters, even though a smirk tugs at his lips.

Then the door swings open again and in comes Cornbread, the mountain of a man who serves as their bouncer, fresh from talking to the crowd outside.

“Yo,” Cornbread rumbles, voice low and gravelly. “Y’all got a line out there. They ready. I told ‘em we open in fifteen.”

“Bet,” Smoke nods, adjusting his chain. “Keep it tight, you know how Clarksdale get.”

Cornbread just gives a solemn nod, then disappears back outside.

Meanwhile behind the bar, Annie is wiping down glasses, her thick curls piled on top of her head. She looks tired, like she’d rather be anywhere else, but when Sammie catches her eye she gives him a small smile.

“You owe me for this, you know that right?” she calls over, only half joking.

Sammie laughs, walking over to lean against the bar. “Yeah, yeah. I appreciate you, though. Couldn’t think of nobody else I’d trust on that side of the counter.”

Annie sighs. “Don’t butter me up, Preacher Boy. Just tip me good.”

Stack slides over, snatching a lemon wedge off the bar. “You know he will. Man got a whole church girl on his mind these days, trying to live righteous or whatever.”

Sammie rolls his eyes. “Bruh, shut—”

But just then the door swings open again and in walks Mary.

She’s dressed in a tight little dress that hugs her hips, brown hair cascading down her shoulders. You wouldn’t immediately peg her as someone with Black roots the only clue is the slight curl in her baby hairs.

“Look who the devil dragged in,” Stack mutters under his breath, jaw tightening.

Mary’s eyes land on him immediately. They’re sharp, a little playful, but underneath you can see old wounds.

“Well ain’t this nice,” she purrs, sauntering up to the bar. “Your little place finally opened. You gonna buy me a drink to celebrate, Eli?”

Stack gives her a look like he’s been chewing lemons. “Nah. But you welcome to buy your own.”

Mary laughs, all throaty and mean. “I hear you, Eli. But the next time you want ne to come over remember this day.”

Smoke just snickers from where he’s perched on a stool, lighting a cigarette. “Damn. Y’all need therapy.”

Sammie, meanwhile, just shakes his head and tries to keep his mind off of you. But it’s hard especially when Mary throws him a sly wink.

“Hey, Preacher Boy. Tell your cousin here to stop acting like he didn’t cry over me.”

Stack practically growls, turning away, and Sammie just lifts his hands. “Don’t pull me into this mess. I got my own stress tonight.”

Mary leans over the bar, close enough for her perfume to hit Sammie in the face. “Where’s your little church girl at tonight? Heard you finally found someone sweet to ruin.”

Sammie stiffens, eyes going cold. “Watch your mouth, Mary.”

“Ooooh, touched a nerve.” She laughs again, then slides off to find another victim, hips swaying like she knows every pair of eyes is on her.

Annie shakes her head. “Lord, I see why your mama prayed so hard over this club.”

Stack just grunts, turning back to inventory. Smoke blows out a puff of smoke and chuckles.

And Sammie? He leans back against the bar, staring at the door, praying you walk through it. Because tonight was supposed to be perfect music, lights, new beginnings.

But all he can think about is how he messed up not calling you back.

And how maybe, just maybe, he’s gotta fix that before this place really feels like something worth celebrating.

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#x black reader #x black fem reader #sammie x black reader #sammie moore #preacher boy sammie #sammie sinners #sammie x reader #samuel moore #preacher boy x reader #preacher boy #sinners #x black church girl!reader #black church girl!reader #x fem blackreader

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all444glo · 2 months ago

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JADED

🎞️|| A post-game dinner with friends turns messy when Anthony’s jealousy flares. You say it’s not that deep — but he’s already spiraling.

⚠️|| jealousy, arguing, possessiveness, toxic love undertones,language, u and ant don’t need to be together chile

“Lord knows you still look amazin', that’s besides the point I'm makin' You're way too opinionated, I have to force it, to have to fake it”

“Anthony It’s not even that deep.”

The door hadn’t even clicked shut before you snapped, tossing your purse on the table like it did something too. You were pacing the moment your heels hit the floor.

Anthony trailed in behind you, already tight in the chest. “You really gon act like I’m tweaking’?”

“You are tweaking!” you whipped around. “All night, you had an attitude for no damn reason. I smiled at Jaden, and you turned into Lucious Lyon.”

“Nah,see, you tryna twist it,” he said, pointing a finger like you were a witness on the stand. “It wasn’t some lil ass smile Y/N. It was the lil’ laugh. That ‘I’m-so-fucking-cute-and-I-know-it’ giggle you only pull out when you want attention.”

“Oh, so now I’m flirting?” you barked. “I laughed at a joke, Ant. That’s it. I laughed at my friend—someone I’ve known longer than I’ve even tolerated your ass.”

Anthony’s jaw flexed so hard you could hear the tension click. “Oh shut that shit up.”

“Don’t do that.” You threw your hands up. “Don’t start talkin’ to me like I’m one of your hoes.”

“You don’t even act like my girl sometimes!” he exploded. “You act like you just waitin’ on me to fuck up so you can fall into the next tall nigga arms!”

“You always fuck up, Anthony! You made our whole ass dinner awkward 'cause your ego couldn’t handle me getting five seconds of attention from someone not you.”

His chest rose. “He was lookin’ at you like he wanted to take you home.”

“I’m already home!” you screamed. “I’m HERE! I sleep in your bed, I do your damn laundry, I fold your hoodies in color order, I ride for you harder than anybody else in this world— and you out here actin’ like I’m just waitin’ to be picked up by Jaden fuckin’ McDaniels?”

“It’s not even that—i’m sittin’ there tryna eat some damn steak after bustin’ my ass in Game 6, and you over there smiling in his face like y’all got a lil’ inside joke.” he grumbled, looking away.

“Nah I know what it really is,” You crossed your arms, voice dropping. “You don’t trust me. And I don’t even think it’s about me. I think it’s about you. You can’t handle the idea of someone else wanting what you neglect.”

“Oh now I’m neglectin’ you?” he snapped. “I ain’t just take you to dinner? I ain’t just get blasted on twitter last night and still smile for you? What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N? I’m not Jaden, I don’t got time to be all soft and whispery in your ear. I’m me. You knew who I was when you got here.”

“Well, I thought I was signing up for a man, not a boy with abandonment issues and an undeserved god complex!” you shot back.

That one hit. You saw it. His eyes shifted, fast— not hurt, but challenged.

He pointed again, but slower this time. “Don’t talk to me like I’m just not shit. You think cause you got a degree and a couple therapy sessions under your belt, you better than me?”

“Oh my God, here we go. Did you forget you also went to college or?—“

“No, go ahead. Say it. Say you’d rather be with someone quieter, sweeter, less fuckin’—what? Less of a real nigga?”

“I want to be with someone who doesn't treat me like their emotional punching bag every time they feel small next to another man.”

He laughed, loud and ugly. “Cool. Then go be with him. Go let Jaden cook you his lil’ vegan pasta or whatever the fuck he do. He’ll listen to your real housewives rants and make playlists with you. Y’all can go match beanies or whatever lame shit you like now”

You stared at him.

He stared right back.

A long silence. Then—

“Is that what this is really about?” you asked, voice deceptively calm. “You don’t think you’re enough for me?.”

“Girl i’m more than enough,” he said immediately. “That’s why I’m pissed. ‘Cause I shouldn’t have to compete with anybody when it comes to you. You mine.”

You took a step back. “Don’t say that like it’s romantic. I’m not some kind of posession.”

“You not. But you with me. And when you with me, I don’t expect to feel like a background character while some other nigga try to undress you with his eyes.”

“I didn’t even notice,” you said quietly.

“Well I did,” he growled.

Silence again.

He walked closer, breathing heavier now, eyes all over your face. “You got no idea what it feels like to watch another man look at you like that. Like you his or some shit.”

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

“I know. But it felt like it.”

You broke a little, right then. Just in the corner of your eyes. Your voice cracked. “That’s your insecurity talkin’. And I can’t keep arguing every time we walk into a room full of people who think I’m pretty.”

“I don’t care if they think you pretty,” he said, voice low, coming closer still. “I care when I think you believe ‘em more than you believe me.”

You looked up at him. He was way too close now. Close enough that his breath was brushing your lip.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You embarrassed me.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“You got one more time to play in my face like I’m just some trophy wife you can run. I’m not one of your yes-women, Ant. I’m me. I’m the same “bad bitch”, you purposely went for and if you can’t handle that—“

“I can handle it,” he cut in. “I just hate the idea of losin’ you.”

“You’re gonna lose me faster if you keep actin’ like this,”

He didn’t say anything.

But his hand found your hip. His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“You mad at me?”

You didn’t move.

“You done yelling?”

Still no answer.

You blinked.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching for your waist. “For actin’ so jealous. For ruining your night over some shit I made up in my head. For forgettin’ how lucky I am.”

“…Don’t think saying that gets you back in my pants.”

“I wasn’t tryna be smooth,” he said, kissing your jaw. “I’m tryna be real.”

You didn’t stop him when his hands touched your hips again, just stared.

He lowered his voice. “You look too good like this, mama. I’m tryna behave but you makin’ it real hard.”

“I’m not in the mood…”

“I know. I’m just...remindin’ you how much I love you.”

You bit your lip. “Here we go, you tryna fix shit with dick again”

“I’m tryna fix it with love,” he said, cocky grin twitching at the corners. “But if you want the other part too...I mean, I’m down.”

Your eyes narrowed, but the tension was still strong.

“I hope you know you sleeping on the couch,” you whispered.

“I doubt that shit gon last long, you gon come to the living room by 3” he murmured against your neck.

You tried to suppress the way your thighs clenched.

“…You’re so lucky I love you.”

He kissed your jaw slow, deliberate. “That’s not even luck ma, this shit a blessing”

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jukeboxsweethearttt · 1 month ago

Text

CAUGHT!

Barry x Peach x Samson

Synopsis:In which Barry catches samson and peach kissing while they’re supposed to be working!

cw:mention of drugs and samson and peach are cousins so if you don’t like it leave now

based on this ask!

a/n:Proofread by moonypie @starfxkrinc

Divider by Moonypie @starfxkrinc

The sun hung low behind the trees, casting a warm haze over the back of the shop. The windows were cracked just enough to let in the Southern air, thick with humidity and the scent of oil, dust, and Samson’s cigarette.

Peach was supposed to be sorting inventory keeping track of the pills they were moving that week, counting the ziplocks twice to make sure everything matched what Barry promised the sheriff but her mind was somewhere else.

Specifically, pressed up against the grimy brick wall behind the counter, one of Samson’s rough hands under her shirt.

“You said we had ten minutes,” Peach whispered, voice breathy, eyes half lidded. She was in a pair of tiny shorts as always, soft cotton hugging her curves and glowing against the dirt and grease of the shop.

Her lip gloss was sticky sweet and smeared, her thighs twitching as Samson’s fingers pressed firmer against her hips.

Samson barely spoke, always more hands than words, but the look she gave Peach right now said don’t act innocent you started this.

“I said five,” Samson grunted low, voice rough as gravel, Southern lilt thick. “You just ain’t listen.”

Peach’s head lolled back, mouth parted, eyes fluttering. “You’re not even working. We’re supposed to be—”

Her sentence died when Samson grabbed her chin and kissed her again slower this time.

It was messy and deep, their mouths moving like they were starving, Peach letting out a soft whimper when Samson sucked on her bottom lip.

That’s when the back door creaked open.

Barry.

He leaned against the frame, gold tooth catching the golden hour light, arms crossed, a cigarette already halfway gone between his fingers.

The look on his face wasn’t shocked it was amused. Hungry, even.

“Well,” he drawled, voice like honey and smoke, “Ain’t this cute.”

Peach flinched, trying to ease her way out of this, cheeks hot. “Barry—”

Samson didn’t move. She stayed pressed to Peach, one hand still cupping her jaw like she didn’t give a single fuck they’d been caught.

She barely turned her head. “Door wasn’t locked.”

Barry took a drag from his cigarette and tilted his head. “It’s not the door I’m worried about. It’s the fact y’all are out here makin’ out like horny teenagers when there’s work to do.”

Peach crossed her arms, trying to summon up some sass, but the way Barry was looking at her made her thighs squeeze together. “We were just takin’ a break,” she mumbled.

“Sure.” Barry flicked ash to the side, walking toward them, slow and deliberate. “I can smell the break from here.

He stopped just a breath away, one hand sliding under Peach’s jaw, lifting her face up to his. “She get you all flustered, Peach?”

Peach nodded, lips parted.

Barry chuckled low in his throat. “She always does. But you know better than to get distracted when you’re supposed to be countin’ shit. You tryin’ to get us in trouble, baby?”

“No,” Peach whispered, caught between them now, her back to the wall and Barry in front, Samson still behind her like a shadow.

Barry leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “Then finish the job. And if you’re good,” he said, voice dipping, “maybe we’ll let you keep actin’ up later. Together.”

He stepped back, eyes dark and full of heat.

“Don’t make me come back in here and catch y’all again,” he warned, flicking his cigarette away.

Samson finally moved, pulling Peach back into her arms with a smug little smirk. “You heard the man,” she murmured against Peach’s cheek, voice low and warm. “Better finish up.”

But her hand didn’t leave Peach’s waist.

And Peach? She wasn’t getting a single thing done for the rest of the night.

#barry x peach x samson #barry obx prompt #barry x reader #barry obx #samson x reader #peach!reader #jukeboxsweethearttt

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giveafike · 7 months ago

Text

Starlit Season - B.T.S

TLDR: Christmas Market time! This is part 3/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 4.7k. including dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: Day 3/12! Can you believe we're already 25% through it? Don't worry though, we still have the other 75% to get through ;) Lmk how you feel about the series so far after you're done reading!

This comes out the day after the Garden Cup so I'll add my thoughts here ab it: HE PLAYED SO GOOD WTF? Exho's always bring out the best in him smh. He looked so happy so I'm happy. ALSO...i said "last night was a movie" in a twt...why was that his caption im kinda freaking out.

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As the sun descended early in the lazy winter sky, you, Ben and Emma found yourselves getting ready for a quick drive to Gainesville's Winter Wonderland Christmas Market. The drive to the Christmas market had all the easy comfort of time spent with people you loved; the faint hum of the car’s heater mingled with a soft holiday playlist Ben had set before they pulled out of the driveway, a mix of classics and pop covers. Emma was sprawled across the backseat, her legs tucked up as she lazily scrolled through her phone, chiming in now and then with observations about the playlist or comments on the sights outside. Ben’s hand rested casually on the wheel, the other draped over your thigh, mindlessly tracing shapes against your jeans. His fingers occasionally drummed to the beat of the music as you conversed.

Emma leaned forward in her seat, resting her chin on the headrest between you and Ben. “So,” she started, stretching her words out with a smile, “what’re you gettin’ Benny for Christmas? Any genius ideas yet?”

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat. “Em, I’m completely out of ideas. It’s bad. Like, I’m about to panic-buy socks bad.”

Ben chuckled, softly, shooting you a sweet side glance. “Socks are underrated, babe. Functional. Timeless. I’m into it!”

Emma rolled her eyes, swatting his shoulder. “Yeah, no, you’re too high maintenance for that. Remember when Mom tried to buy those cheap crayons for school, and you threw a hissy fit ‘cause the colours weren’t bright enough?”

Ben huffed, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “That’s called having standards, Emma. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right,” Emma drawled, clearly unimpressed. Then, her attention swung back to you. “Didn’t y’all write Santa letters the other day? Mom mentioned she caught you at the table, covered in glitter and actin’ like five-year-olds. That’s gotta have some ideas in it, no?”

“Oh, don’t,” Ben groaned, already sensing where this was headed.

“What?” Emma teased, her grin wicked. “Benny pours his little heart and soul out in a letter to Santa, and you’re tellin’ me there’s nothin’ in there gift-worthy?”

Your voice softens as you decide to playfully tease Ben and pull out your phone, giggling. “It’s actually pretty sweet. Here, hold on.”

You scrolled through your photos until you found the picture you’d snapped of Ben’s messy, glitter-covered letter. “Knock yourself out.” You handed it over your shoulder.

Emma snatched the phone eagerly, her grin widening as she took in the chaotic page. Her eyes skimmed over the letter, and her smirk softened. “You really wrote all this? No help this time?” she asked, glancing at Ben.

He shrugged, ears turning a little pink. “What about it?”

Emma grinned, shaking her head. “Gotta admit, it’s sweet.”

She mimicked a dramatic sniffle, mocking her little brother but pressed her hand to her chest as she jutted out her bottom lip, smiling a bit. “ ‘A hug for my family’? ‘More chances to make people smile’? Oh, Ben... you’re gonna make Santa cry!”

Ben groaned again, but this time he was smiling, his hand giving your thigh a playful squeeze. “Emma, if you don’t stop, I swear you’ll be walkin’ to the market.”

Emma cackled, tossing your phone back to you. “Relax, man I’m not hatin’. It’s sweet, really. You’re just lucky Mom didn’t frame this and hang it on the fridge.”

You smiled gently, brushing your fingers lightly over Ben’s hand. “I thought it was perfect.”

Ben muttered something under his breath about it being private, but his smile lingered, soft and sheepish. Emma, of course, leaned back with a triumphant look.

“Y’all are disgustingly cute, by the way,” she added. “Now, can we please get to this market before I die of secondhand sap?”

As if on cue, the glowing palm trees of the Christmas market came into view, their lights twinkling against the dark sky. Ben adjusted the radio, and 'Feliz Navidad' played softly as he turned into the lot, grinning ear to ear like a kid himself.

“You ready for some holiday magic?” he asked, taking your hand in his, and squeezing it softly.

“I think I already got it,” you smiled back.

The Christmas market unfolded before you, a sprawling patchwork of lights, music, and festivity. The breeze carried the faint scent of pine and cinnamon, mingling with the sound of carolers harmonising near the entrance. Palm trees were strung with twinkling lights, their fronds swaying slightly, a reminder that even in Florida, Christmas had its own brand of magic.

Ben parked the car, and Emma was out almost instantly, her phone buzzing. “Alex’s here,” she said, pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll catch up with y’all later.”

“You ditchin' us already?” Ben teased as he climbed out of the car, grabbing your hand as you stepped down.

“Not ditchin’, just… prioritisin’!” Emma shot back, beaming. “Y’all don’t need me third-wheeling all night.”

“You mean to say your boyfriend doesn’t wanna hang with his future brother-in-law?” Ben quipped, earning a laugh from Emma as she waved him off and disappeared into the crowd.

With Emma gone, it was just the two of you, your hands laced together as you stepped into the bustling market. “Well,” Ben said, his voice tinged with a playful challenge, “where to first, Captain?”

You tilted your head, scanning the stalls. “Somewhere with food,” you decided. “I’m starving.”

“Food it is,” he agreed, tugging you toward a row of food vendors. Each stall seemed to offer something better than the last, hot cocoa piled high with whipped cream and homemade marshmallows, candied goods glistening in the light, and the unmistakable sizzle of fresh churros frying.

Ben nudged you toward a cart with a small crowd gathered around it. “What about this?” he asked, pointing to a sign boasting fresh kettle corn.

The vendor handed over a bag the size of your torso, and Ben immediately snagged a handful, tossing a piece into his mouth. “Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding in approval. “This is the good stuff.”

“Let me try, I'll be a harsher judge” as you stole a handful from the bag. The sweet and salty crunch of the popcorn melted on your tongue, and you sighed. “Okay, fine, you're right.”

Ben looked down at you, gummy smile in full force. “You’re gettin’ better at admitting that.”

Rolling your eyes, you tugged him along, weaving through rows of stalls. The sound of music and conversations filled the area as vendors called out, offering samples and showing off their wares, handmade candles, intricate wooden ornaments, and shelves of baked goods that left you tempted at every turn.

At one stall, you paused to admire a display of tiny, hand-painted nutcrackers. “Look at these,” you said, picking up one with a red and gold uniform.

“Cute,” Ben said, though his attention was clearly on the stall selling mini doughnuts just a few feet away.

“Yeah, aren't they- Oh. You’re impossible,” you gushed before you followed his gaze, setting the nutcracker down and letting him lead you toward his next snack.

The two of you found a small bench under a string of lights and shared the warm, sugary treats, laughing as Ben somehow managed to get powdered sugar on his nose. “You’re a mess,” you said, wiping it away with your thumb.

“Comes with the territory,” he replied with a wink, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before pulling you back to your feet. “C’mon, there’s still so much to see.”

The market stretched endlessly, alive with light and movement. Every turn revealed another burst of colour or warmth, strands of golden fairy lights zigzagged overhead, framing the bustling rows of stalls. Palm trees wrapped in garlands stood proudly alongside traditional evergreens, their sparkling lights blinking cheerfully against the clear, starry sky.

Ben’s hand was warm and steady as it laced with yours, grounding you in the sea of activity. A couple walked past with steaming cups of cider, the spicy scent drifting your way, and you made a mental note to find some before the night ended. Ben seemed relaxed, his free hand swinging the bag of kettle corn he insisted on buying first thing.

“You know,” he began, his tone softer now, “I used to come here every year with my family. Me, Emma, Mom, Dad… sometimes a few friends would tag along. It was always this big thing.”

You glanced up at him, catching the faint nostalgia in his smile. “Bet you were the kid trying to climb the Santa statue or grab way too many samples.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he admitted, grinning now. “Emma and I had a contest one year to see who could make a better snow angel, on the fake snow, of course. I won, but she still claims the judges were biased.”

“Who were the judges?” you asked, laughing.

“Mom and Dad.”

You snorted. “Oh yeah, definitely biased.”

His smile softened, and he squeezed your hand. “It’s nice, though… coming back. And with you this time.” His voice dropped, quieter now, almost drowned out by the noise around you. “Makes it even better.”

A flutter of warmth rose in your chest. “You’re getting sappy, Shelton.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he teased, but his hand slipped from yours only to wind around your waist, pulling you closer. The gentle kiss he pressed to your temple sent a wave of calm through you, even in the lively chaos of the market.

“C’mon,” you said, nudging him. “Let’s see if there's anything exciting.”

The next stall you stopped at displayed rows of hand-poured candles in every scent imaginable. A cheerful woman greeted you, gesturing toward her neatly labelled jars.

“Christmas tree,” you mumbled as you read off one, uncapping it to take a sniff. The sharp, woodsy aroma filled your nose, instantly conjuring images of decorated evergreens.

“Good, huh?” Ben asked, leaning over your shoulder to smell it too. His arms stayed snug around your torso as he did, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Too much pine,” you decided, setting it down and picking up another.

“Ooh, peppermint hot chocolate. That’s festive.”

“Smells like dessert,” Ben said, then leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Maybe I’ll get it so you think about me every time you light it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Smooth.”

“That’s me,” he winked, clearly pleased with himself as he added the candle to your growing collection of finds.

The two of you wandered further, pausing at a table of hand-crafted perfumes. Glass bottles in soft, pastel hues lined the display, each promising something unique.

“Pick one,” Ben said, nudging you toward the table.

“For me?” you asked.

“Well sorta, but more for me,” he corrected, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So every time you wear it, I remember this night.”

You reached for a bottle labelled “Winter Bloom,” its description promising hints of jasmine and frosted cedar. The soft, delicate scent won you over immediately, and you handed it to Ben, who promptly handed over cash to the vendor in a heartbeat without even sniffing it or giving you time to protest.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And yet you’re still here,” he shot back, pulling you into another kiss, this one deeper and lingering.

The warmth of the moment carried you to the next row of stalls, where a small crowd gathered around an artisan baking display. Cookbooks with ornate covers were stacked neatly beside racks of cookie cutters and colourful frosting tubes.

“Hey, look at this one,” you said, picking up a book titled Holiday Baking Delights. Its whimsical illustrations of gingerbread houses and festive cakes made it impossible to resist. “We should have a baking day.”

Ben quirked a brow. “You’re planning a whole day just to bake?”

“Absolutely. Cakes, gingerbread men...maybe even a pie if we’re ambitious!”

He smirked, pulling you closer by the waist. “You mean you're baking while I supervise.”

“I’m an excellent baker. You can do the dishes too if you'd like” you shot back.

“Hm, I think I'll assign myself as a taste tester and entertainment,” he countered, nuzzling into your hair. “Can’t wait. Just promise not to kick me out of the kitchen when I eat all the cookie dough.”

“Only if you leave enough for the actual cookies,” you said, laughing as you handed the book to the vendor.

Ben shook his head, his grin softening as he looked at you. “You know you’re cute when you get all excited like this, planning days ahead together.”

You looked into his eyes and leaned into him, letting his warmth anchor you as the two of you moved along.

You stopped at a display of delicate glass ornaments shaped like snowflakes and reindeer, their edges catching the light in a way that made them seem almost magical. Ben held up a particularly goofy one shaped like a Christmas pickle, declaring it “too iconic to pass up.”

“Ben,” you groaned through a laugh, nudging his side. “That's so ugly.”

“Come on,” he argued, holding it up to the light dramatically. “This little guy has character. Look deeper.”

You shook your head, moving down the display while Ben trailed after you. Among the whimsical designs, your eyes landed on an angel ornament. It was breathtaking; soft glass handmade and shaped into an angel soaring upward, offering a dove in its hands. Gold and silver flecks were delicately mixed into its flowing form, catching the glow of nearby lights. Its weight felt solid, important, as you picked it up carefully.

Ben leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping yours as he reached to steady the ornament.

“Wow,” he murmured. “This one’s something else.”

“It’s so beautiful,” you gasped, turning it slightly to admire the details.

“It’s more than beautiful,” Ben replied, his voice quieter now. “Feels special, huh?”

He reached into his pocket for his wallet without hesitation. “We’re getting it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you couldn’t bring yourself to put it back, your eyes stuck onto the delicate figure.

“Of course,” he said, his eyes lingering on the angel. “It deserves to be on the tree.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding the ornament between you. Your brain slowly processed Ben's words; deserves to be on the tree. Your mind wandered to Lisa’s earlier comments about the ornament she and Bryan had from their first Christmas together. Somehow, this angel felt like a continuation of that story, a chapter for you and Ben, one that hadn't even been set yet by you intentionally. It was almost as though it were God or fate itself and whatever it was, it seemed to fall into place for Ben too as his hand shifted, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as he looked from the ornament to you.

“When we’re married,” he began softly, almost as if the words escaped him without thought, “we’ll buy another ornament like this… for our first Christmas together.”

Your heart caught in your chest at the quiet sincerity in his tone, his words hitting the reality you had barely processed internally. It wasn’t a grand declaration, just a gentle truth spoken as if he was seeing it unfold in his mind.

You turned your head to meet him, your eyes searching his face. He wasn’t grinning like he usually would after a smooth line or quick remark. Instead, he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Ben…” you started, but the words trailed off, your emotions tangling in your throat.

He blinked, and a faint blush rose on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose as if he just realised he’d spoken out loud. “Uh...unless you hate the idea,” he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “In which case, forget I said anything. I didn't! Total brain slip.”

You shook your head, a soft laugh breaking through your lips. “I don’t hate the idea, silly,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a sigh and a chuckle, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your temple. “Good. Because I really meant it.”

The moment felt suspended, glowing like the lights around you. Finally, he handed the ornament to the vendor, carefully ensuring it was wrapped and protected before tucking it safely into the bag with the other small market finds. The angel seemed to hold more than just glass and flecks of gold and silver, it held a promise. One you were both content to wait for but knew in your hearts was already as real as the warmth of his hand in yours.

The moment settled as you continued your exploration, soon followed by more jokes and terribly smooth lines. By the time you reached the cider stand, your hands were full of bags, and your cheeks ached from smiling so much. Sipping on the warm, spiced drink, you leaned into Ben, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“This might be one of my favourite Christmas traditions now,” you admitted.

He glanced down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. “Mine too,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. Then, with a grin, he added, “Even if I’m carrying all these tiny paper bags.”

You laughed, letting the sound blend with the cheerful buzz of the market, knowing this was a moment you’d carry with you long after the lights were packed away for the season.

As you sat and talked, debriefing the stalls and resting up, the crowd shifted, and Ben was suddenly hailed by a familiar voice from behind.

“Shelton! No way, man!”

Ben turned, a grin breaking across his face as a group of guys his age closed in. Dressed casually but with a distinctly college sports vibe, they greeted him with a mix of backslaps and playful shoves, the kind of camaraderie that spoke of long hours spent on courts and fields.

“Look who it is,” one of them teased, crossing his arms with mock indignation. “Thought you were too busy being famous to hang out in Gainesville anymore.”

Ben laughed, throwing his hands up. “What can I say? I heard you guys were still here and couldn’t resist.”

“Oh yeah? We figured you forgot all about us. Moved on to bigger fish.”

“Nah, same ol’ me,” Ben replied, his grin widening. “What’s new with you guys? Still running the intramural circuit, or have you retired?”

“Please, we could still crush you,” another chimed in, jabbing a finger at Ben’s chest. “You might have the serve, but we’ve got stamina.”

Ben raised his eyebrows, leaning casually against you as he broke into that gummy smile and loud, boisterous voice. “The kind of stamina that left you gasping during our last match? I think we're rememberin' it differently, man.”

The group roared with laughter, clapping Ben on the shoulder as they bantered back and forth.

As the guys exchanged rapid-fire jokes, Ben slipped his arm more securely around your waist, drawing you slightly forward. “Guys, this is my girl,” he said, his voice warm and proud. “She’s just been introduced to the chaos that is the Sheltons' Christmas.”

“Ah, so you’re the one putting up with him now,” one of them said with a grin, extending a hand to dap up yours. “Condolences.”

Ben rolled his eyes but tightened his arm around you. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. She’s got better taste than all of you combined.”

You chuckled, dapping a few hands as introductions and jokes circled loosely, and before long, they were back to ribbing Ben about everything from his college game to his inability to blend into a crowd anymore.

“Seriously, though,” one of them said, crossing his arms with a mock-serious expression. “How does it feel to be the golden child of Gainesville? We're gettin' griefed over your whole legacy.”

Ben shook his head, his laughter easy and genuine. “Man, I’m just here for the fried Oreos. Gator pride doesn’t stand a chance against those.”

The group dissolved into more laughter, the energy infectious. For a while, you stood beside Ben, enjoying the warmth of the moment. He was clearly in his element, his laughter brighter and his jokes sharper as he fell back into the rhythm of old friendships.

But as their conversation turned to recounting games and road trips that you weren’t a part of, your attention started to drift. That’s when your eyes landed on a quieter corner of the market, where a small, unassuming booth caught your attention. The sign above it read Silver & Steel, and something about its simplicity called to you.

Leaning into Ben, you tugged his sleeve lightly, quiet not to interrupt the current conversation. “I’m going to wander for a bit, okay?”

Ben’s laughter softened as he looked down at you, his expression shifting to something more tender as he cupped your face softly, tucking hair behind your ear. “You sure? I can come with you in a second.”

You shook your head, smiling. “No, no. Stay and catch up. I’ll be right back.”

His eyes lingered on you, warm and steady. “Don’t get lost,” he teased, pecking your cheek before letting you go. “I’ll come find you if you do.”

You laughed softly, slipping through the crowd toward the silver stall, while behind you, Ben’s laughter picked up again, blending seamlessly with the lively hum of the market.

The silver stall was tucked away from the main thoroughfare, its quiet contrast drawing you in. The old man running it looked up from polishing a bracelet as you approached, his weathered face breaking into a kind smile.

“Evening, miss,” he greeted, his voice gravelly but warm. “Looking for something special tonight?”

You glanced over the display, captivated by the understated elegance of the pieces. Rings, bracelets, cufflinks, and keychains, each item was crafted with a simplicity that was masculine and timeless. The soft glow of the polished silver under the warm lights was mesmerising.

“These are amazing! All made locally?” you said, running a finger lightly over a sleek keychain engraved with Roman numerals.

“Mhm, yep thank you,” the man replied, setting down his polishing cloth. “Been doing this for over forty years. Every piece’s got a story waiting to be written.”

You smiled at the sentiment and glanced over your shoulder. Ben was still deep in conversation with his friends, his head tipped back in laughter. He looked so at ease, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke. A pang of warmth spread through you, and you turned back to the display with a clearer purpose.

“I think I’d like to write one of those stories,” you said softly, your eyes settling on a ring, a simple band, smooth with some ridges and unadorned except for the possibility of engraving. “Could you engrave initials on this?”

The old man nodded. “Absolutely. What initials are we putting on it?”

“B and-” You paused, your cheeks heating as you whispered the rest of your initials to him.

He chuckled knowingly as he shot up a glance over to where you were just looking. “Young love. Nothing quite like it.”

You giggled shyly, glancing again at the stall’s offerings. Another item caught your eye: a small, rectangular keychain plate, its surface just wide enough for something simple. The thought of engraving your anniversary in Roman numerals struck you, an intimate, subtle way for Ben to carry a piece of you wherever he went.

“And this,” you added, picking it up. “Can we do Roman numerals? For a date.”

“Of course,” he said. “Got the date in mind?”

You told him your anniversary date, watching as he carefully jotted it down. He took both items and began his work with a diode laser cutter, his movements deliberate and practised.

As he engraved, you struck up a quiet conversation. He shared stories about how he’d started the shop back in the seventies, and how Gainesville’s Christmas market had always been his favorite event of the year. You told him a little about yourself too, skimming the surface but enough to let him know why these pieces were so important. When he finished, he held them out to you with a smile. The ring gleamed under the lights in its soft blue velvet box, your initials etched delicately on the inside of the band. The keychain plate, meanwhile, sat in a red velvet box, slightly larger as it bore the Roman numerals of your anniversary, its clean lines perfect and understated.

“These turned out beautifully,” you said, your voice filled with quiet awe.

“They’re for someone special,” the man said simply, packing them carefully into a small velvet pouch. “That kind of love deserves something lasting.”

You paid and thanked him, clutching the small bag in your hand and hiding it in your jacket pocket as you turned to head back toward Ben. He was still with his friends, but his eyes caught yours immediately as you approached, lighting up in that way that always made your heart skip.

“Everything good?” he asked, breaking from his conversation to reach for you instinctively, his hand settling at your waist.

“Perfect,” you said, slipping the pouch discreetly into your pocket. His hand tightened slightly on your hip, his lips brushing your temple as if he couldn’t help himself.

Ben turned back to his friends with a content smile, but you couldn’t stop glancing at the pouch in your pocket, already imagining the look on his face when he saw what you’d chosen.

The evening wound down with the two of you making your way back to the car. Emma had waved goodbye at the market entrance, letting you both know she was staying a bit longer as she rejoined her friends. Now it was just you and Ben under the soft glow of string lights, the buzz of the market fading behind you.

Once inside the car, Ben started the engine, the faint hum filling the space. His hand found its way to your thigh again, a familiar gesture that made you smile.

“So you went explorin' without me?” he teased, his thumb drawing lazy circles through the fabric. “You didn’t get lost, did you?”

“Not at all,” you said with a smirk, leaning back in your seat. “But if I had, I’m sure my knight in shining tennis gear would’ve come to rescue me.”

“Damn right I would’ve,” he replied, shooting you a grin, his confidence tinged with playfulness. "If you hadn’t come back when you did, I was this close to pulling a market-wide search party. ‘Has anyone seen my girlfriend? She’s the cute one, probably holding something sparkly.’”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re silly.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Mm, debatable,” you teased, biting back a grin of your own.

As the streets of Gainesville stretched out before you, dotted with houses wrapped in holiday lights, Ben glanced over. “Thanks for coming tonight. I know it wasn’t exactly Wimbledon-level excitement, but…”

“Ben,” you interrupted softly, looking at him with a smile that you knew reached your eyes. “It was perfect. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice dipping into something quieter, more sincere.

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Besides, I got to watch you charm half the market and run into old friends. Pretty much a hometown hero, aren’t you?”

“Oh, totally,” he said, the playful edge returning to his tone. “They’re probably erecting a statue of me as we speak.’”

You shook your head, laughing again.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the house glowed warmly, the Christmas tree twinkling in the window like it had been waiting just for you. Ben killed the engine but didn’t move to get out right away. Instead, he turned toward you, his gaze soft in the dim light.

“Tonight was really good,” he said quietly, his hand brushing against yours. “Thanks for making it better.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, leaning toward him. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the one who made it better.”

His lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate as if he wanted to savour every moment. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his grin lazy and content.

“Let’s get inside,” he murmured. “I’ve got a date with those goodies we bought. I also bought some candied pecans!”

Laughing, you grabbed your bag of goodies and followed him up the steps. The scent of pine and freshly baked sugar cookies greeted you, promising warmth, laughter, and more unforgettable holiday memories.

#Azzie's Advent Calendar #azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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wqxianwriting · 2 years ago

Text

how to make a golden retriever happy.

SLIGHTLY proofread | f!reader | poly relationship with nick & charlie though reader isn’t dating charlie | pretty damn long i got ahead of myself, sorry :,) | they’re so cute but im so bad at details fr | lunch date, walks, stargazing w fireflies & movie night! (you got headbands to wear… guess what movie charlie is having y’all watch rn) | what is stargazing | author questioning what color sonic’s eyes are | theres some crying at the end and a mention of breaking up but its just those negative thoughts actin up, theyre all okay :) | angst/comfort? | not many kisses unfortunately but THERE ARE SOME, like three scenes… two? | there is cussing, not much | nick & reader flashbacks

#%a/n%#;; first request done! thanks for it, they mean so much to me. i didn’t wanna make it too long but here we are lolol, hope it’s enjoyable though 🥹💜 also ntm on your family details but your mom does appear and she has a “set” personality! no one else appears though so you can imagine the reader’s family how you want, though it is mentioned your mom is married. also note, since reader is a lady she goes to the same school as like, elle darcy tara (and probably imogen too, right?). meant to post this yesterday but i wanted to add some stuff at the end haha, sorry sorry this is a whole ass wattpad book fr, feel like i wrote so much and nothing at the same time. hope you enjoy if you give it a read thought fhdhdj

OH YEAH last thing, the emotions in this story is kind of a whiplash 💀 one minute they’re happy the next theyre kinda sad or bittersweet so- hopefully the pacing doesnt seem bad… BE WARNED. shouldn’t be too crazy. okay thats it this time do enjoy

character(s):

nick & charlie (heartstopper)

elle & tao cameo

reader’s mom omg she’s a sweetheart, charlie’s parents are mentioned/super small cameo, nick’s mom also has a small cameo/is mentioned

darcy, imogen and sahar are very briefly mentioned!

The sweet sound of the school bell rings throughout and the school and every single student sighs in relief of the noise. You glance up at the clock on the wall before looking around the classroom where students are packing up their bags while talking noisily to one another.

You allow yourself to recline in your chair, left arm reaching back to where your backpack dangles off the seat and slide your hands into the side pocket, grabbing your phone.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: I’m alive!

Char: you live! i live too :) wanna walk together today or are you both busy? (gonna pick you up bestie)

Y/N: i’ll meet you outside (ty loveliest)

Char: awesome!!! nick?

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry aha, I need to go home quickly today but I’ll be sure to join tomorrow!

This makes you pout and you can imagine your bestfriend having the same expression because the sad emoji he wrote in the group-chat even makes you sadder.

Char: ☹️

Y/N: don’f worry charlie

Y/N: Don’t*

Nicky Ricky Dicky: Sorry :,)

Char: It’s fine! Do what you have to do… we gonna facetime tonight though?

Char hearts your message ‘don’f worry charlie’.

Nicky Ricky Dicky: No promises but I’ll do my best. 😠❤️

Nicky Ricky Dicky: i gtg now, love you both <3

Y/N: lym! ❤️

Char: love you! ❤️❤️❤️

Y/N: three hearts 🥹

Char: y/n. STOP. come outside before i die

Y/N: omg… such a drama king like okay

You write and yet, you’re quick to jump from your chair and snatch your bag before sliding it on your shoulder. You push in your chair and skip out into the hallways where you see Elle. “Heya, Elle!”

She smiles warmly and waves goodbye to her friends before stepping in sync with you. “Hey there, Miss, didn’t catch your name.” You bump her shoulder and she bumps you back. “What’re you up to?”

“Charlie’s gonna come pick me up, hopefully via bike… mines broke the other day.” You sigh and she gives you a look of pity while trying to bite back a grin. Then she perks up.

“Not Nick?”

You shake your head, rubbing a hand against your temple. “Mm-mm, you ever just get a feeling something is off?”

Elle nods, turning her face away from you and her hands grip onto the handle of her bag that bounces against her legs. “Yeah, just putting it out there… graduation may be on his mind, I know its on mine and it’s been kicking my ass to be honest,” You wrap an arm around her in comfort and she hums in appreciation. “Just all that weird stuff, weird thoughts and anxiety…” Then she pauses, raising a hand and flicking her wrist. “Okay- not weird, but you know.”

That makes you snort, “Yeah, I get’cha… maybe, but we’ve always been open about that kind of stuff, I just don’t understand why it’d be a issue… I mean, we’ve talked about it many times before so it’s kind of odd, I guess?” You and Elle share a look of confusion before shrugging.

“Maybe it’s been having more of an impact y’know? You can speak easily about something when you’re not there yet but… graduation is coming up and everyone is worried about the future. You know how things don’t hit you till it’s happening literally next week or something? Maybe its hitting harder.”

Your heart clenches in pain at those words. She’s not wrong, there is a high chance it’s staring to affect him more… hitting harder than you’d know. You nibble on your bottom lip in concern and furrow your eyebrows,

“Well. If he’s being an idiot and isn’t gonna come to us about it then I’ll beat him up.” You place your hands on your hips, lightly joking to disperse the tense air between the two of you. Of course he isn’t being an idiot but you refuse to let him stress on his own. Elle chokes out a laugh in surprise.

“Oh god, he better run, she’s scary when she’s angry.” One of her hands let go of her bag and she hold her stomach while laughing a bit more. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

You scoff, “Like we haven’t argued before.”

“You argue about literal video games.”

“Stop.” You laugh and push at her shoulder. “Oh, and Elle, you know I’m your friend and if you ever need an ear to lend about college talk or need help to get your mind off of it to just relax, you got me.” She stares at you for a few beats before cracking into a grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. You know you got me too.”

Outside the school building you’re quick to spot two familiar figures by the gate. “Yes, he’s here!” Your arms raise in celebration then instantly flop down, “There’s no bike…!”

Elle calls out which makes the two boys stiff in seconds.

“Get your butts over here, Mr. Xu and Mr. Spring!” They awkwardly crane their necks to your direction and simultaneously sigh in relief – probably thinking you were teachers.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Tao exclaims as you and Elle once you’re right infront of the two, gesturing to his heart. Elle is quick to place a hand over his chest – Tao’s cheeks lowkey reddening but you decide not to point it out for his sake – and her eyes widen a bit.

“Tao, your chest is gonna shoot out your chest.”

“See?”

“That is the goal, sire.” You finger gun at him and he smacks your hand away lightly with an exasperated look. It makes you giggle. “Elle is just feeling a little silly today.”

“It’s my agenda.” She grins before engulfing Charlie into a hug and he squeaks in surprise before squeezing her back. “Hello, Charlie!”

“Are you sure your heart isn’t pounding because you’ve gotten your daily dose of Elle?” You whisper while stepping in line next to Tao, facing your head to your other friends but you can see him tense at the corner of your eye.

He pinches his nose bridge, mumbling and you catch some of the words, suspiciously sounding like him saying he’s gonna fight you. His cheeks bloom a rosy rose so you take the win either way and smugly smirk at him.

“Hi, Elle!” His muffled laugh catches your attention, making you and Tao smile at the interaction before you wrap an arm around the latter, making him eyeroll, of course he does, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze in response.

“We best be off on our merry way,” You speak up, checking the time as the two friends let go of eachother. “I wanna stop by that new shop that opened a few weeks ago… Is that fine, Char?”

He gives you a thumbs up and Elle speaks, “Let me know how their desserts taste, I’ve been wondering but honestly they don’t look that good so…” She stares at you with a grimace before shrugging.

“Noted~” You say in a singsong voice before wrapping your arms around Charlie. “I’ll call you later, enjoy your afternoon date.” You and Charlie give the couple teasing grins and they take the bait, looking away in shyness but Tao takes the initiative and connects their hands together. It makes you melt.

“Shut up.” He groans, snapping but tone very much unthreatening adding on the fact he’s trying to cover his flustered face with his free hand.

“Yes, yes grumpy old man, we’ll see you later.” You and Charlie waist no time to start down the road with waves.

“Bye!” He shouts.

“I’m not a grumpy old man!” Tao stomps his foot, comedically. Right. How could you make that mistake?

“Bye, Y/N and Charlie!” Elle laughs with a wave and tugs her totally-not-grumpy boyfriend off in the other direction. You watch their hands tighten around eachother, squinting in amusement when Tao’s scowl instantly softens into a lovestruck gaze.

“Ahhh, young love.”

“You’re starting to sound like the old one here.” Charlie snickers, hands coming up to hold onto your forearms that are still bounded around him.

“You wound me, Char.” You squeeze him and he huffs. “I literally think the same when you and Nick are interacting, it’s so,” You make weird noises, fingers wiggling. “Y’know? Very sweet. Very cute, I even have some photos of you latching onto eachother while sleeping. Wanna see-?”

His brain feels like it’s shutting down, lightly smacking your arm when you lift it as to grab your phone. “Stop it.” You could practically see those animated stars swirling around his head and laugh.

You relent and unwrap your arms with a cheeky smile. He glances at you before hiding his face in his hands. “Ughh, whatever. You act like you don’t jump Nick the minute you see him.” Yeah, that’s crazy. You feel your own cheeks flaring up.

“You must be blind.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie!” He exclaims in a joking tone, uncovering his face and poking you in accusation. You lean away, losing your balance and forcing yourself to lean on your tippy toe. Your other foot comes down onto pavement with a stomp and you twirl like you’re dancing. Charlie definitely notices this misstep, doesn’t say anything but you see his shoulders shaking in silence. He’s laughing.

“I never lie?” You pick off the conversation.

“Was that a question?” He tilts his head back at you.

“No?”

He stares at you, eyebrow twitching and you puff out your cheeks like a frog, looking anywhere but in his direction. “You’re awfully cheeky today.”

“How am I being cheeky?” He gives you a look like you’re being ridiculous.

“Charlie Spring is a little cheeky today, my oh my, what have I done to deserve this.” Then you raise your voice in a slight yell, “Ahhh! Who is this?! This isn’t my Charlieeee…!” Your arms reach for the sky.

“You’re an idiot.” He takes the chance and poke you again which makes you yelp. You narrow your eyes. He runs off, you chase.

That was last week. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in a couple of days and it’s concerning. He responds hours late to your messages, doesn’t even respond in your group chat with Charlie, his calls barely last ten minutes and you literally haven’t seen this man in person. Charlie tells you he still shows up at school but his eye-bags are pretty bad.

“Is he avoiding me? I’m confused.” You frown, balled up on Charlie’s bed and feeling very mixed. A little annoyed, a little sad, and alot of worried. Charlie sets down two mugs on his bedside table and sits next to you on the bed. His rests a hand atop of your head and lightly taps it.

“No… I don’t think so. I see him at school and he tries to act normal but even he doesn’t respond to me like that outside of school.” The scowl his face makes has deepened and you’re quick to wrap an arm around his leg in comfort. He lets out a weak smile but it’s quick to fall off his face. “I’m confused too…”

You both stay silent, it’s nearly deafening. “I don’t wanna force him to tell us anything – I mean, he knows he can come to us if he needs it but if he’s really stressed about school maybe we can help give him some space to not think about it. Even if its only for a bit, you know?” Charlie listens to you mumble while tugging at a loose thread on his sweater and nods slowly, eyes lost in thought.

“Should we go somewhere?” He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling before his gaze travels around his room’s walls, hoping to find an inkling of inspection.

“That sounds fine.” The somber feeling in the room lifts a bit when you start to grin. You shift onto your back, raising your right arm in the air and sprawl out your fingers. “We could go out, do something and eat… I kinda wanna stargaze, is that weird?”

He lets out a chuckle, glancing down at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “Wow, you’re such a romantic, Y/N. I’m shocked.” To which you scoff.

“Well, duh. Who makes all the date plans?”

“Okay, no, that’s because you say we’re bad at planning dates – you refuse us to even be involved.”

“Charlie, Nick brought you to a dog park as a date.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You both stayed there till nine.”

He full on laughs now, bumping you with his knee and you smack it back in retort. “No judgement though, I would do the same but that was for the whole day! Who stays at a dog park from Eleven to Nine?” He continues to laugh until they turn into giggles.

“Maybe… we’re unique.”

“True that. You didn’t even bring baby Nells, shaking my head.” To put emphasis, you shake your head and your friend has to gasp out for air. “Don’t die, now.”

“Whatever whatever.” He brings his hands to his face and rubs his cheeks in circular motion to calm himself. His face is flushed and he exhales slowly before reaching for his phone. “Do you want your drink?”

You remove your arm from his leg and sit up properly, holding on your hands and he complies, placing the mug between them. “Thank you~” You lean on the wall, flopping your legs onto Charlie’s before crossing them at the ankles – to which he sighs in annoyance and it makes you grin. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna search for places to go that is nearby but not too close… you have a place in mind for stargazing?” He grabs his own mug that is black and littered with yellow stars, how ironic. You nod sleepily, slowly sipping your preferred drink and tap at the cup absentmindedly.

“Yeah, it’s near my house.”

He flicks his eyes towards you for a second.

Then goes back to typing on his phone.

“You mean it is your home.”

“Maybe.”

You smirk, he sighs and you both go back to planning. Nick honestly better be willing to get his ass dragged out of the house by his lovely girlfriend and boyfriend because money is involved and you both would be damned if he just wallows in self despair, alone.

So, that’s what happens, you fill Charlie’s parents in on needing to steal your bestfriend during the weekend and some of the plans involved like a movie night. They agreed to let him stay over for the night but he must call every few hours or atleast text.

Your parents love the boys and were completely down with the idea. Of course you also secretly called Nick’s mum and she had filled you in on a couple things that made you a tad bit more nervous to see your boyfriend.

Seems like your assumption was correct (more like Elle’s). “Lately he’s been talking about colleges, right… he’s planning to go on a trip sometime this month to check them out but he seems stressed, it’s been worrying me. You know though, kids probably don’t want their parents all in their business, haha,” She laughs softly and you can hear running water cut off on her end – probably washing something – “He knows he can come to me so I’m just letting him have his space. It’s lovely you and Charlie want to ease his mind! Glad he’s with and friends with two sweethearts,” This makes your face flare up in embarrassment but your chest puffs with pride.

“Of course, and I know he appreciates you being patient and understanding with him. The thing we don’t wanna do is pressure him… I just hope this can help take his mind off of the stress and you know… relax?” You grimace a bit, tugging at the end of your sleeve as the phone sits between your ear and shoulder.

“I get it, mhm. Thank you, Y/N.” Her voice is still soft but gets even more sincere with a hint of emotion. Had you feeling emotional too.

Saturday is quick to arrive and you stare at your reflection with determination. Brushing down your outfit, you admire your date look a bit more before turning around slowly and snatch your bag off the bed which is filled with random necessities that you may or may not need along with your wallet.

“Alright, Nick Nelson, prepare yourself for the best date you’ll ever be on.” You puff out your cheeks, grab you phone of the charger and exit your room. “I’ll be off, Mother~” You hum once you reach the end of the staircase and spot your Mom on the couch with a paper in hand.

“What is with the formal address?” She chuckles behind her hand, standing up and following you towards the front door. “I’ll see you later tonight with Nick and Charlie, right? Enjoy yourselves.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around your head and you hug her back with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh! Wait.”

She quickly unravels herself from you and speeds down the hall to the kitchen. Your eyes stare down the direction she went for a few seconds before deciding to slip on your shoes.

“Okay, here you go.” You’re standing with the door open by the time she comes back and she gives you a picnic basket. It’s not super big but you have to grab it with two hands. Less from the size, more from the weight.

“Mom. What did you pack in here?” You huff out a laugh, going to open the lid but she stops you.

“No, do not open it. It’s like… a wedding. You can’t see your spouse or it’ll be bad luck!” She speaks with a finger raised and you cock an eyebrow up. Whatever you say, Mom is basically your expression and she seems to notice because she places her hands on her hips with an exasperated look. “Just trust me, I’ve done it before and it was bad luck all day.”

“Mhm, mhm, right.” You nod, half listening and backing up on your porch. She follows, hand on the doorknob with a soft smile and she pinches your cheek with her other hand. “Thanks, I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” She full on grins now and waves. After your ‘see you later’ promises, you’re quick to dart down the street and across the roads to a nearby park where Charlie said he’d meet you after picking up Nick. It gives you enough time to unload the nice lunch packed for the three of you and hopefully buy some refreshing popsicles or ice creams before they arrive.

Seems like luck is on your side though – maybe your Mom was right – because the minute you finish laying out the huge blanket in a nice shaded area you hear the sound of someone ringing a familiar bell sound. You turn your head so quick it nearly gave you whiplash and your eyes widen at the person walking along the park’s path, pushing a white squared cart decorated with photos of different types of cold treats.

You take your bag and phone, dialing Charlie’s number while speedwalking across the grassy field. It takes two rings before you hear his voice.

“Yes, partner in crime?” His voice comes off as staticky for a moment.

“What the hell are you doin’, your mic is scuffed as hell…”

“I’m walking!” You could imagine the eyeroll Charlie would do and bite your cheek to not laugh.

“Are you with Nick?” You continue to talk but smile in greeting when the ice cream seller stops at you coming over. He says hello and you wave before looking over all the choices on the cart.

“Yes. We’re grabbing drinks right now, you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m at the park, set up the picnic – though the food is still in the basket,” You glance back at your spot and after making sure nothing seems out of the ordinary you look back at the cart. “You remember those ice cream cart things? You want something?”

It’s silent between the two of you as Charlie ponders, in the meantime you point to your desired choice and the guy nods with a smile, opening the ice cream cart before digging around in the pile of cold desserts until he finds the one you want.

“Do they-“ He cuts himself off with a chuckle and you perk up at his voice, “Do they um,” He snorts this time then sighs to calm himself, “The ones with the bubblegum eyes. I wanna try one.”

You laugh a little, thanking the ice cream man as he sets the packaged treat in your hand. “Do you want the sonic one or something?”

“Whatever you spot first or whichever is given. Oh wait- Nick-“ You zone out a bit as he speaks to the blond and point to the blue hedgehog. The ice cream man continues his search. “He said he wants the crybaby ice cream.”

“Oh god.” You sigh in adoration, tilting your head back to the clear blue sky. “Weren’t they, like, terrible the last time we tried them?”

This time you hear Nick’s cheerful voice and he scoffs, “Okay, no. That was because for some weird reason you and Darcy wanted to put warheads into the mix.”

“Thank you,” You say to the nice man, grabbing a ten and a five dollar bill as a tip out of your wallet with a smile. You then put all the treats into your bag along with the wallet, waving the man bye which he returns and goes on his merry way. Your focus goes back to the two boys. “Ah yes, I remember the part where your face went sooo red. Hilarious, I have videos I think.”

He groans in prospect and you hear muffled giggles erupt from Charlie. “Why do you do this to me?”

“What are you talking about?” You tease and he groans again.

Charlie then speaks up, sounding way closer to the phone. “Alright! We’ll see you in two-point-five seconds.” You hum in response and say your goodbyes before hanging up the phone.

You reach the blanket again, flopping on your tush and take the ice creams out, aligning them with precision on top of the picnic basket. Charlie doesn’t disappoint because not two minutes later you see two familiar figures walking down the park path, one of them pointing towards your general direction and ditching the path to the grass.

You could feel your heart pound from… nervousness or excitement? Maybe both and it makes you grin, waving at the two. They get closer and Charlie waves awkwardly with a hand that has a drink in it, to which you notice his other hand also had a drink… and one of Nick’s. The blond’s other hand is carrying headbands of some sort and a bag is hanging off his arm.

“Char told me to get these while we were in the grocery store.” Nick speaks first when they get to you, he lifts the hand with headbands. “I decided not to question it.” You raise your hands and he carefully sets the accessories in them. Ah. Barbie headbands.

“Charlie…” Your brows pinch in amusement but also bewilderment. “What have you decided?”

He chuckles mysteriously, lifting a foot off the ground to point at your hand. “Put those down and take your drink, please. My hands are freezing.”

“Oops.” You comply and take the cup. The two eventual settle down with Nick in the middle and you quietly take a nice sip of the beverages. “Thank you.”

The boys nod and you glance at Nick, noticing the shadows of bags under his eyes. It makes you frown for a second, “So, what am I doing here on this lovely day.” Before you could inquire, Nick speaks up first, eyes shutting in contentment and a pretty smile adoring his face.

You lean back on the palm of your hand, eyeing Charlie and he meets your gaze. “Can we not want to hang out with the one and only, Mr. Nick Nelson?” You speak with a teasing tone, leaning into his side. His smile goes wider and he opens his eyes to meet yours.

“You make me sound like some big shot.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Well it was hard to reach you… so…” His gaze falters along with his smile, nervously tapping the top of his cup. “Not to pressure you, you know that but Charlie and I will always be there to listen if you need it.” You poke his arm gently and you spot Charlie’s hand sliding into Nick’s.

“Yeah.” Charlie nods, squeezing their hands, “But if not, that’s fine too. Y/N and I wanted to just, relax with you. Spend some time together.”

That makes Nick let out a shaky laugh and a wobbly smile. “Thanks.” He pauses. “Really. It’s just been, crazy?” He nibbles at his bottom lip before sighing and flops on his back, leaving his cup between his crossed legs and dragging the two of you down with him – which makes you all share a laugh.

Charlie rests against his boyfriend’s chest – facing his direction and you flip onto your stomach to play with both of their soft locks. “What has?” You ask softly.

He’s silent for a bit, tapping his fingers on your back with his free hand. “I’m not sure, school? Life? …Me? There’s no exact reason, everything just seems to be crashing down in my brain and it’s annoying to say the least.” He sighs heavily, “I’m probably just having that kind of month where everything is just feels like alot.” He frowns and you move the hand in his hair down under his chin, gently squeezing his cheeks and he chuckles.

“That’s perfectly fine, it happens.” You move the hand to trail up the left side of his face and place your palm over his forehead like you’re checking his temperature and it makes Charlie join in, prodding at Nick’s neck gently.

“There’s a lot going through your life right now, perfectly understandable why it feels overwhelming and such. Thank you for talking to us about it.” Charlie speaks softly.

“Of course. I don’t,” Nick pauses, opening his eyes with a flash of worry, “I don’t want it to feel like I’m shutting you both out or anything, or if it feels like you’ve done something wrong. I feel less weird thinking I’m overreacting, haha…” The laugh comes off flat but from the reassuring smiles from his lovers, he feels at ease.

“You’re not.”

“Nuh-uh.” You and Charlie speak simultaneously, denying such thoughts. It makes Nick laugh which sounds less forceful.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about everything right now since I don’t even think I’m done… accessing everything but really, thank you. You both are my anchors.” If you didn’t tear up from that, your heart definitely did. Charlie gets up off Nick, letting go of the blond’s hand and tilts his head back with his hands over his face.

“Same, Charlie.” You cover your own face and lay flat against the blanket.

“I…” Nick trails off with another laugh and he sits back up which catches both of your attention. “Can we eat though, I’m getting a little hungry.” He gives a shy smile and you also sit up.

“Oh shit, what if the ice cream melted?!” This realization has the three of you shooting towards the basket, grabbing the packaged delights and simultaneously sigh in relief. They’re not melted… yet.

“Should we just eat these first and then eat the actual lunch next?” Charlie bites back a laugh, already opening up the plastic and pulling out the bubblegum eye Sonic, wasting no time to put it in his mouth with wide adorning eyes.

You and Nick watch him in amusement before opening your own. “I wanted this lime popsicle they usually sell but there were none.” You sigh before eyeing Nick’s container of airhead ice cream. He opens the top and it reveals the swirls of… red? Or pink and green.

“That’s funny, we saw those while we were at the store. There were these coconut flavors too.” Nick reminisces, plucking the taped but wrapped in it’s own plastic wooden spoon off the side of the ice cream container.

Charlie hums before looking down at the bitten into Sonic, “Why does Sonic have green eyes? Are they actually green?”

You all stay silent.

“I thought they were black or brown?” You speak in confusion.

“Right? Even blue….” Charlie tilts his head.

“Technically all of those are correct though they turn red as well… It’s the different franchises, I guess?” Nick furrows his brows in thought, scooping into his sour treat after freeing the wooden stick and eats away, wincing here and there. You watch with amusement.

The lunch date you can say with absolute certainty was very successful. You all catch up on things that have been going on and different shows you’ve been watching. Sharing ice cream, stuffing yourselves full with your Mom’s cooking – there was even a drink war? All you knew was one minute you were nearly done with your beverage and the next it’s being tossed in Nick’s direction as you try and run away from Charlie’s retort from you getting him seconds before. Ah, can’t forget the classic kisses shared under one of the many trees at the park and the newest photos stored in your ‘Nick & Char ❤️’ album, like the picture of Charlie ‘painting’ Nick’s face with whip cream. Where the fuck did you get whip cream from? Ask your mother.

Around the time you were all packing up, a teenager around your age ran up with their four other friends and inform you there is a nice walking trail – pointing towards the area where the park path splits, one continuing into a circle around the whole field and the other going into an area with rows of trees.

“Y’think we’ll get jumpscared? Like a haunted path or something.” You joked.

“They said there’s a nice stream down the path.” Nick smirks at your joking, placing a hand on your head and you puff out your cheeks, feeling them heat up a bit.

“Ah yes, you can take a nice swim in it when I push you in there, Y/N.” Charlie hums, quick to dart his eyes away when you flip your head in his direction.

“You’re so evil to me?” You watch him with wild eyes, mouth agape and he laughs.

“Do you think we’ll actually able to get in?” Nick ponders and you flip the wild gaze to him now.

“With us three, I’m sure we can pull it off.” Charlie responds with a menacing grin, mischief all up in his eyes and you’re playing ping pong with your eyes, flitting back and forth between them.

“I’m gonna be arrested today, huh…” Your boyfriend and bestfriend just giggle like evil people.

In the end, you three didn’t get in the stream’s water but there were some fishes so you decided to feel them the crust that Charlie didn’t eat from his sandwich and take some more photos. Nick had picked Charlie up bridal-style, getting dangerously close to the water and you record it all.

“Don’t drop me!” Charlie tightens his hold around Nick, fear and excitement in his tone.

“This takes me back to the beach…” Nick ignores his boyfriend’s pleas and spins around carefully.

“Do not reminisce while I’m in your arms, please and thank you?!” He exclaims and it makes you full on laugh, an arm over your stomach while watching the whole exchange happen.

It’s not long before it turns from afternoon to evening, you three return back from the area with Nick and Charlie debating on if they saw a deer or not. Charlie saying it was definitely there and Nick saying it wasn’t there.

“Carl Grimes flashbacks…” You hum and Charlie puts you in a headlock.

“Do not. I will cry right here.” He pouts and pulls at your cheeks, ignoring your protests. Nick watches with a soft gleam in his eyes, rocking the picnic basket back and forth with a hand.

You all walk down the sidewalk side by side once Charlie lets you go, talking about random things before Nick realizes the direction you’re going.

“Are we dropping Y/N off?” He frowns.

It catches you and Charlie off guard. “What? What makes you think that?” You raise an eyebrow. Nick points ahead and your house in slowly coming up in view. Ah.

“Ah.” Charlie speaks your thought and you both share a laugh. “No, we’re not dropping her off.” Charlie stretches his arms with a grunt before eyeing the bag strapped around Nick. “You brought pajamas and clothes for tomorrow, right?”

Nick nods, pursing his lips. “Still confused about that.”

You scoff in amusement and place a hand on your forehead with an endearing smile. “Nick…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll understand soon.” Charlie gives him a thumbs up, paired with a wink before darting ahead of the two of you. Nick flicks his gaze to you in question but you put on an act and shrug.

“What he said,” You pause for a moment, eyes burning into Nick’s, “Do you like stargazing?”

He moves closer to you, closing the gap and tugs your hand in his. The question makes him look up at the sky for a moment. “Mmm. Never tried it before? What counts as stargazing? I’ve… been in the car on trips and looked out the window…?” You give him a perplexed look which he returns.

“Alright, well-“ You chuckle, “That can… technically count? I guess? Just… Yeah.” You give up midway, tugging Nick along when you get closer to the front of your house where Charlie awaits. “You’re on your phone while you’re on a date? Tsk tsk.” You tut your lips in disapproval and Charlie startles.

He rolls his eyes, flipping his phone to the two of you bounding up the steps. “I was texting Saha- oops, hold on-“ He cuts himself off, flipping the phone back around with a nervous smile.

You glance at Nick before moving your hand to cover his eyes with your other hand. He gasps in surprise but doesn’t question it any further, grinning a bit. Facing back to Charlie you mouth the word, ‘Barbie?’ and tilt your head in confusion. He nods.

“You’re silly.” You remove your hand from Nick’s face and flatten your hand, tapping Charlie’s forehead in a chopping motion. He rubs the area with a laugh and you knock on your front door.

“Did you forget your keys?” Nick giggles when you give him a look of shame.

“Maybe.”

Your Mom is quick to open the door, grinning widely. “Welcome back. Hello, Charlie and Nick.” They wave in shyness and she scoots back to let the three of you in. “What’s the plan next, soldier?” She bumps the door closed with her hip and loosely crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at you specifically.

“Gonna go in the back for about an hour…” You trail off, taking your shoes off in the most complicated way. With your feet, or the heels per-say. When you finish you take the basket from Nick and walk to the kitchen with your mom as the boys finish taking off their own shoes. “To stargaze.” You finally finish when Nick’s ears are out of reach.

She pats you on the back with approval, “Attagirl. How was lunch?”

“It was fun! We spoke a bit, ate and went down a trail.” You bounce your head to the side while listening the activities before pausing. “He seems more… energized?” Your lips purse.

“Was that a question?” She leans against the counter, one arm coming out of the self-hug and she combs her hand through your hair. You give her an awkward look and she breathes out a laugh. Tapping the crown of your forehead, she moves away to the fridge with a soft smile. “Well, if he seems to be uplifted,” She eyes you before taking out three water bottles. “That’s great news, no?” Then sets them infront of you on counter.

“You’re right but… I don’t know. I just feel like I can do more,” You huff. “But that’s dumb because of course I can’t, this has to be something Nick figures out and all I can do is support him.”

“Honey, that is doing more for him. Supporting him is the biggest help you can five someone, along with what you’re already doing. Taking him out, letting him have space to clear his mind and being a safe net. Same thing with Charlie, no?“ Her hands latch onto your shoulders and give the muscles a gentle squeeze. “I know it feels like you want to do so much more but, there’s only so much.” You tilt your head back and look up at her with a half-smile before relenting.

“You’re right.”

“A mother is always right.” She lets go and moves towards the stove, giving you a smug side eye… which you return with an unamused eyeroll.

“Yes, yes. My mother is always right. Sometimes.”

“About ninety-nine percent.”

“Ninety-five…” You lift an eyebrow and give her pointed look. She has a spoon in her hand when she looks over you and points it to her chin in thought, it’s just a bit though.

“Ninety-seven. Take it or leave it.”

You scoff in amusement before scooping up the bottles, “Whatever you say, ma’am. We’ll be outside.” She hums in understanding and you exit out the kitchen, walking into the dining room before reaching the living room where the duo waits.

“Pleasure for you to join us.” Charlie smirks and takes two of the bottles from your arms with a nod of thanks.

“Be welcomed.” Nick muses with a grin and cracks open the bottle, taking a quick refreshing sip.

“What is this speech? I hate it.” Your face scrunches up in disgust before gesturing to the sliding glass door. “Shall we?”

“Look who’s doing it now…” Charlie stares at you cheekily. You give him the finger, he returns it.

There are slides in a shoe rack near the door and you three take a pair before stepping out. Nick’s eyes widen in wonder. Your backyard has a big blanket – similar to the one from the picnic – sitting in the middle of the area that has a plot of grass and lanterns that hang off metal rods sit nicely around in the grass that have curves at the end, doing nicely as handles. What surprises you are the little bugs that fly and flicker with a yellow-green gleam in the air.

“Since when do we get fireflies?” You speak first.

“Since forever, Y/N.” Charlie poked your back and you jump, flipping around to get him back but he’s already slipped behind Nick.

“You little…”

“Ah, ah ah, you have to be nice to me.”

“Says who?” He’s being ridiculous.

“Says me. Your bestfriend.” He peaks around Nick’s side – who, mind you, is still focusing on the backyard’s look – with a teasing grin.

“I’mma beat you up.”

“No!” He lets out a laugh when you lunge towards him, twirling out of your reach and running around with you flailing behind.

It felt special to Nick. The orange-red sky turning into it’s pitch dark blue color, stars twinkling down on you three with a full moon bright. His eyes are stuck on his two partners, the fireflies swirling around them out of disturbance but still they still decorate the backyard with green-yellow hues, not ready to leave. He remembers this conversation you had in this backyard a year ago…

“Do you think fireflies come around this area?” You were sitting on a bean bag, legs tucked beneath yourself and were practically sunken into the ‘seat.’ Charlie had insisted you to put it on the concrete side of the backyard so you did and now your face is hidden behind Nick’s switch in your hands.

Speaking of who, Nick is currently soaked wet, wringing out the ends of his shirt and Charlie wraps himself up in a towel. It’s late night, pitch dark but they wanted to play with water balloons and your Mom happened to be out of the house to pick up dinner.

“Maybe…” He leans back to look at the sky. “Why? Do you like fireflies or something?” He looks back down at you. The question has you silent for a couple of beats before you set down the console. He watches you with an amused twinkle in his gaze, puffing out his chest in pride at seeing you in his sweater. Charlie had been wearing it earlier and you both traded before they brought out the balloons.

“I mean, I have never seen any so, maybe, maybe not.” You shrug, unfolding your legs and stretching them out with a groan. Your socked feet slap down against the concrete and you sit up a bit. “Don’t you think they’re kinda special though? My Mom said it’s like they’re glowing up your night, dancing around you and stuff.” You eye the floor. “Appearing on specials occasions like they know,” You lean back into the seat with a sigh, “Said that’s how she got married. Isn’t that crazy?”

Charlie purses his lips, tilting his head to the side before smiling, “Sounds magical. They’re the ‘true love’ bugs.” His smile widens into a grin.

“Exactly!” You snap your fingers with a nod, bumping your heel against the stone pavement.

“I’m sure they do appear out here though, don’t they come out at Midnight?” Charlie shivers while speaking, hugging the towel around himself tighter. You sympathize with a playful grin.

“Maybe. But well, you boys should get inside and warm up. We’ll try next time.”

“Nick! Are you gonna come and lay down?” He snaps out of his head, eyes darting to you and Charlie lying on the blanket though Charlie is trying to tap out from a leg lock you have him in.

He snorts in surprise, not missing a beat and closing the distance. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Nick! Help me~” Charlie wails before pinching your thigh, making you yelp and quickly let go.

“That is cheating!” You exclaim, rubbing your leg with a wince.

“All’s fair in war.” He snickers, reaching a hand out to Nick who takes it and sits down between you two.

It’s a nice silence between the three of you, you’re not sure who laid down first but you eventually followed. Nick has his arms wrapped around the two of you and you’ve glanced up at his face which shows contentment. You even met his gaze while peeking and it caught you off guard with how much his brown orbs were filled with much love and affection.

You reach a hand out towards Charlie and tussle at curls, making him whine in protest but lets you continue anyway. “I’m not good with constellations so you’re not gonna be getting that during this stargaze adventure.” You mumble against Nick with a laugh and it makes the other two chuckle.

“Nah, that’s alright… I’m happy with this…” You and Charlie freeze at how soft Nick’s voice sounds. Serene. Content. More than happy but not quite ecstatic. Filled with much love directed towards the two of you and it has your heart pounding.

You sit up on your elbow, making Nick’s arm slip off of you and he eyes you with suspicion. “Actually…” This would be way more comfortable on your knees so you sit up, tuck your calves beneath you and cuff Charlie’s face into your hands. It’s nearly laugh worthy of how quick his face turns a deep red and how you felt it happen under your touch.

You lean forward, careful not to face-plant into him – that would be awkward… and painful – pressing your lips against him. You both move into a soft but passionate rhythm. Your thumb brushes against his dusted cheeks, pressing hard against his lips one final time before moving back with a dazed grin.

He returns it, chuckling shyly before meeting Charlie’s intense gaze. You choke back a laugh with the swiftness of your friend sliding up a bit, hand softly cupping the side of Nick’s face and sharing their own kiss. Also very slow, and passionate. Your tilt your head up towards your house, eyeing the sliding door and sigh in relief to not see your Mom near it. By the time your gaze returns you’re meeting with the two boys staring at you with flushed faces.

“Oh my god, you’re so red.” You laugh.

“Shut up?” Charlie hands an arm over his face, probably burning up a bit more from the teasing.

The fireflies have died down, some still hanging around but you notice most are gone and a smile tugs at your lips. “Wanna go inside now?”

Charlie removes his arm with a sharp inhale and the two nod. “Do you need to bring the blanket in?” He points to the cloth when you all stand and you’re quick to shake your head.

“Nah. I’ll grab and wash it tomorrow,” You stretch your limbs, hearing some pop. “I need new bones…”

Nick sticks his tongue out in playful disgust, “That sounds horrific.”

“Wouldn’t that be crazy though? If we needed to trade in new bones when we’re old and seniors.”

“Y/N.” Charlie’s eyebrows bend and he grimaces, “Why do you come up with the most freaky scenarios.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah, like the apocalypse one from before.” Nick pitches in with a frown that falters into a smile.

You all step into the living room after you’re done turning off the lanterns and have grabbed your bottles, “Because my brain is so amazing that I just think of things you would never think of.” You make a gesture to your brain before wiggling your fingers like you’ve done a magic trick.

“Or so you say…” Charlie glances somewhere else before meeting your eyes, “Less would never think of more, shouldn’t think of.” He flicks his hand towards you, thumb and index finger out in a finger gun.

“Hey, these could be real life events soon to happen.”

“Yeah the bones theory would happen when we all become immortal.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

Then boom, jumpscare. Your Mom appears just as you’re settling on the couch. A screech leaves all of your mouths and she stares in shock with mild confusion and amusement.

“Hello to you three, too.” She giggles, walking over to the glass door, tugging the lock between the handle down and pulls the thick curtains down. “Enjoy stargazing?” She turns back around with a soft smile.

You three shift your gazes away. Apparently it wasn’t just you that still had the intimate moment in the back of your brain, huh? “Yeah, thanks Mom.”

If she noticed the slight awkwardness building up, she doesn’t mention it nor show it and instead clasps her hands together, “That’s wonderful! Dinner is finished so feel free to grab whatever you want. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” She fills you in on her own plan for the night which is pretty much staying in her room so you all have your own time. She then tilts her head, eyes spacing out until she perks up, “And then there’s brownies that are baking, should be finished soon. I set a timer so when you hear it please take it our for me, Y/N.”

You nod before frowning, “Why does it have to be me?” Apparently she didn’t understand from the confusion crossing her face. You then point to Charlie and Nick.

Charlie looks offended, “We are a guest?” but his tone is light.

“You practically live here? Your clothes are in my closet, mind you.” Nick and your Mom choke out a laugh while Charlie flares up, flustered.

“Nick’s are too?!”

“Which is why I included him in my pointing?!”

Two people are bickering, two people laughing at the scene. It doesn’t take long for you Mom to calm you both down, “It doesn’t matter who, it doesn’t matter if it’s all three of you. Please just don’t let them burn.” She chuckles a bit more before rubbing her hand against her collarbone to calm herself, “Have a great time. I’ll be in my room.” You all wave her ‘goodnight’ and she retreats upstairs.

You three share a silence. Then Nick speaks,

“…So what exactly are we doing? It seems you both are full of surprises today,” He wears a teasing look which makes you and Charlie look away.

“Don’t worry about it, mister. You enjoy the ride.” You talk first before nudging Charlie with your leg. “You put the movie on, I’ll go make our plates and...” You eye Nick for a moment not knowing what he should do.

“Nick, I put the backpack in Y/N’s room, could you go get it while we set up? Oh! The headbands too.” Charlie pitches in and grins at the mention of the headbands. You and Nick blink at him before standing up to dart down your own paths.

While you’re making the plates the oven timer does go off. You take a toothpick from one of the drawers, flick on the oven light, open the oven – making you flinch back from the heat – then poke the dark chocolate fudge goodness. It has baked all the way so you grab oven mitts and drag the pan of brownies out of it’s cooker, sets it on the stove and flick turn the oven off.

After making sure everything was set in the kitchen you grab two plates and exit the kitchen, back into the living room where the movie is paused on the TV right before it begins. Charlie stands up and helps grab the two plates, letting you dart back into the kitchen again for the last one just in time for Nick to return.

“Do you want drinks? We got juices, sodas, water, you name it.” You peak your head out behind the dining room wall and the two boys pause midway in putting on the barbie headbands. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

“Do you have that tropical mix?” Nick speaks and you nod, he points at you in affirmation of the drink then finishes adjusting the plastic accessory around his hair.

“Root beer, please.” Charlie speaks next before his eyes shine open and wide, “Do you think we can have floats…”

Your eyebrows perk up, “I think we have vanilla? But you’re not getting that till the brownies cool down.”

“Oh, they’re out? Thank Barbie.” He holds his hands up in a prayer.

You stare at him, very much unamused and he gives you a cheeky grin.

“I’ll have tropical juice for now then.”

With a thumbs up you return to the kitchen once more, grabbing three tall glass cups from the cabinet and grab the carton juice out the fridge. You fill up two cups before staring at your own. After deciding your choice of drink, you put everything away and startle while turning around and seeing Nick in the doorway.

“Sorry,” He smiles apologetically, walking up to you and grabbing the cups filled with juice that is his and Charlie’s. He catches you off guard once again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before bounding off to the living room again.

“What the fuck.” You stand in oblivion, feeling your face heat up. You decide you won’t unpack that tonight, flicking off the kitchen light and rejoining your movie mates.

Nick and Charlie had switched spots to where the blond was in the middle like he had been all day and your boyfriend pats the free spot next to him. You comply, setting your cup on the table while sitting and you lean into Nick with a soft smile.

“You forgot this, kind ma’am.” Charlie grabs the plastic pink band and you lean forward. He puts it on carefully and leans back with a self-satisfied expression, grabbing the remote with a quite cheer. “Are we ready for the best movie night ever?”

You and Nick watch him with amusement, “Yes, Charles, we are.”

“Not Charles, I will fight you.” He shivers at the name.

“You call me Nicholas?” Nick speaks. It makes you laugh.

“It’s your real name.” He grins.

“Is Charles not your real name, Char?” You lift an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes, still wearing the grin.

“No, it is ‘Charlie “Char” Spring’.”

You let out an insufferable sigh.

“Y’know, Y/N has called me ‘Luke’ before.” Nick leans his head back with a scoff. This makes you have a full on belly laugh which makes Charlie react the same way. “Yes, yes laugh it away.” He sighs like he’s in pain.

It takes five minutes to calm down. You wipe a precious tear away, “It was on call too and he hung up. Would not answer for like, an hour.” You inhale deeply at the memory before laughing again.

“Should we start calling him Luke as a nickname?”

“Please, please don’t.” Nick squeezes the arm wrapped around Charlie’s waist with a pleading look.

“Awwe you can’t do that.” He pouts, reaching up to pinch Nick’s face.

“Dho wha?” He sounds funny with Charlie tugging at his face.

“The puppy eyed look. The doe eyes.” You bat your eyelashes at Nick when he eyes you from the corner of his eyes before rolling them.

“We’ve gone all dahy withosut this, nowh yuu wanna shtart?” Now he’s the one doing the insufferable sighing.

“It’s a daily mission.” Charlie nods, a serious expression crossing his looks – putting on an act. He then lets go and grabs the remote again, “Movie time!”

“Movie time!” You cheer afterwards.

You three are silent for a bit as the movie plays, you and Charlie cuddling into Nick. He plants soft kisses down your face and you flush a bit. Then he moves to Charlie, repeating the action, who giggles quietly and eyes Nick with a shy look. It makes you laugh under your breath and Charlie doesn’t miss it, pointing to you with a brow raised and expression saying, ‘Don’t laugh at me when you’re acting the same.’ You look away.

“Hey,” Nick suddenly speaks up and the two of you look over. “Thanks for today. It really helped calm me down…” He continues to train his eyes on the TV but his ears burn from you and Charlie giving him your undivided attention. “And reassured me about a few things…” He purses his lips.

“Reassured?” Charlie asks quietly, as if afraid to make Nick snap his mouth shut and not speak again.

Nick sucks in a breath and you shiver from his fingers crawling up your arm. You watch Charlie lift his own hand and hold the arm wrapped around him.

“Yeah. Since everything felt like it was crashing down, I don’t know. It kinda made me feel… negative? About certain stuff. Between us. Not that I’m not happy, I’m more than thankful to be with you two but just like, how you both felt towards me…” His pursed lips flatten and your brows bend at the way his eyes dim.

“Breaking up with me for example because maybe you felt neglected or such. It made me so scared to think about I stopped responding to both of your messages most of the time and barely wanted to call because you know, what if one day you just went, ‘Yeah I don’t think we should be together,’ such and such.” You both stay quiet to let him speak his mind and you hate that he ever thought such things.

When Nick stays silent you take a sharp inhale, meeting eyes with Charlie’s glossed ones. The sight breaks your heart. “Nick…” You start off carefully and he looks over to you with so much exhaust. Slowly, you cuff his face – the same way you did outside – brushing your thumbs against him cheeks. Your right hand moves down, playfully you press your thumb against his bottom lip and smile gently.

“I’m sorry that you ever felt that way. It’s far from the truth, sweetheart.” He lets out an airy chuckle and you watch with adoration. “Y’know brains come up with the craziest scenarios when you’re stressed and it’s annoying, and stupid.” You huff, left hand moving against his cheek and he leans into the touch. Your thumb and index finger latch onto his ear and you pinch it lightly. “Do you know that, that would never happen unless you came to me asking for such a thing?” You pucker out your lips.

He watches you in a daze before laughing. “Do you know that would never happen?” Then he turns to Charlie with a soft look. “And you, Char?”

Charlie rubs at his reddening eyes and inhales. He then nods, opening his mouth before faltering. You both give him and moment and he closes his eyes in frustration before heaving out a sigh. Concern is evident in both of your expressions but Charlie opens his eyes with a new look of determination, straight at Nick.

He smacks his hands against Nick’s shoulders which makes the latter’s mouth hang open in surprise. “Nick. I love you. A lot. It hurts to know that you were dealing with these emotions, but know I’m not blaming you. How could I? It’s not your fault. Never feel bad for needing to take your time to sort out your own feelings and what’s going on with yourself. We’d never blame you for that because in the end, you know we have you, right?”

Nick nods and you can see his own eyes get glossy as well. Charlie then looks at you, “I love you too, Y/N, don’t tell Tao but you’re my bestfriend.” He chuckles, wiping at his eye again and you wipe at your owns.

“Hey, he can be your guy bestfriend and we wouldn’t have to fight over titles.” You wink, before leaning to Nick and kissing him softly. “I love you both, very much so. I’m glad you were able to talk to us, Nick.”

“Was that your goal today?” He grins in a joking manner, tilting his head in the crook of Charlie’s neck while entangling his fingers with yours.

“Did it work?” Charlie sniffles a bit before laughing. You laugh as well, “This is ridiculous we’re supposed to be watching Barbie and now we’re sobbing.”

“I give up.” You throw your head back, side eyeing the TV.

“Nooo, don’t give up.” Nicks chuckles before sitting upright. “We can still watch… we should probably eat too.” He points to the lonely plates on the table.

“True.” You and Charlie agree. You three take a moment to collect yourselves with a few embarrassed laughs here and there before settling back down.

“What’s in the bag, by the way?” You gesture to the backpack under the coffee table as Charlie rewinds the movie back to the beginning. He glances down.

“Snacks.”

“It’s good.” You hum in approval, taking a bite of your food. The three of you enjoy the movie and dinner, later on making those root beer floats paired with the brownies. Charlie had explained to Nick that he was texting Sahar about the Barbie Movie and she told him she went with Imogen. Apparently, Imogen gives the movie a 2/10 because she messed up her outfit at the theaters.

“That’s terrible.” Nick stares at Charlie in shock but it doesn’t last long with the way his lips curve into a smirk, “That’s not her real rating though, is it?”

“Of course not, she loved it.” Charlie laughs.

You’ve been quiet this whole time but suddenly loll your head to face them. Nick already giving you an exasperated look when you got their attention. “Nick. Your new name in my phone is Ken Nelson.”

#.my writing #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x f!reader #heartstopper x fem reader #heartstopper x fem!reader #i didnt do my typical ‘small text big text at the end’ its too much writing 💀#i rlly dont fully like this but !! didnt wanna keep it stuck in the drafts #again LOTTS of writing im sorry Jfhfjfke #nick and charlie x f!reader #nick and charlie x fem reader #nick and charlie x fem!reader #technically…#nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x f!reader #nick nelson x fem reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #right?

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mjonthetrack · 3 months ago

Text

Back at the compound, the morning was just starting to stretch its arms. Imani stood at the kitchen sink, bottle in one hand, Sade balanced on her hip. Tasha leaned against the counter with a mug of coffee, eyes narrowing out the front window.

“Roman still gone?” she asked.

Imani nodded, shifting the baby. “Been gone since before I came down. Left out lookin’ like a whole storm cloud with Ebony’s forty in his hand.”

Tasha raised a brow. “So… he gone-gone.”

“Mhmm.” Imani exhaled through her nose, adjusting Sade’s bonnet. “He ain’t say nothin’ to nobody. Just walked out like the shit she left behind was heavier than it looked.”

Jacob, walking past with a bowl of cereal, chimed in, “Y’all actin’ like Ebony the type you can tie down.”

“She ain’t,” Imani agreed. “That’s what I been sayin’. My cousin don’t sit still. She got a hundred lives already lived, and she only halfway through ‘em. Roman just one more chapter—if she let him be that much.”

The sound of laughter floated in from the living room—Jimmy and Solo arguing over some throwback game—but even their voices paused when the house suddenly rumbled.

Not from footsteps.

Not from voices.

But from the deep, unmistakable bass that shook the walls like an earthquake set to a beat.

Tasha leaned toward the window.

“Now why do I know that bassline?” she muttered.

Imani, still holding Sade, peered outside too.

And there it was.

That candy-painted ‘84 Cutlass, gliding up the drive like it belonged there, speakers booming out the familiar thump of DJ Quik’s “Dollaz + Sense.” Ebony in the front, one arm stretched across the wheel, cool as hell in her shades, Roman in the passenger seat like it was always his seat.

Tasha’s mouth fell open.

Imani just shook her head and muttered, “Ain’t no way…”

The car came to a stop, bass still kicking, and Sade squealed in delight, slapping her little hands on Imani’s chest.

Imani didn’t even look away from the window.

“Y’all better act normal when they walk in here. Ebony don’t do explainin’, and Roman… he ain’t gon’ need to.”

Tasha blinked, then grinned.

“Well damn. Guess she do stay sometimes.”

——-

The car idled at the top of the drive, that bass fading into the background like it knew better than to interrupt what was about to be said. Ebony sat leaned back in the driver’s seat, one leg bent up slightly, nails drumming against the wheel as she lit the end of her blunt like it was the morning prayer.

Roman sat still beside her, the empty forty from last night rolling back and forth at his feet.

She didn’t look at him when she spoke. Just took a slow drag, exhaled thick smoke, then said cool as hell—

“Now don’t be up in here tryna tell these people we got somethin’ poppin’. Don’t get your feelings confused ‘cause I let you hit and didn’t kick you out the bed.”

Her voice didn’t cut—it sliced, smooth and raw like the edge of a fresh razor.

“Ain’t shit sweet about me, aight Unc?” she added with a crooked smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Preciate the talk.”

Then, casual as ever, she reached into the plastic corner store bag at her feet, pulled out a honey bun, and dropped it into his lap like a peace offering—or a period at the end of her sentence.

Roman looked down at the snack. Then back at her.

Before he could say a word, she opened the door, stepped out with her duffle slung over one tattooed shoulder, and slammed it shut. Her jaw was clenched, strides long and focused, like she could hear the thoughts forming in his head behind her and was already done with every single one.

The Cutlass creaked in silence, engine still running.

Roman sat there, the honey bun warm in his hands.

And for the first time since he was a boy—fighting grown men and swallowing his pride to lead them—he didn’t know what the hell to do next.

——-

He stared at the front door she disappeared behind, jaw ticking. The honey bun sat heavy in his palm like a challenge.

Nah. He wasn’t about to let that be the last word.

Roman stepped out slow, movements deliberate. Shut the car door with a solid thud, adjusted the chain around his neck like armor, and made his way toward the house like he had all the time in the world. But his eyes? His eyes were locked on her.

Ebony had just dropped her duffle in the corner and kicked her slides off when the door opened behind her.

“I know you not walkin’ around like you the only one in this house with control issues,” he said, voice low and calm like a warning.

She didn’t turn. Just stood there, shoulders tight, back to him.

“You tryna make sure I don’t catch no feelings?” he went on. “Ain’t gotta worry, I ain’t made like them dudes you used to playin’. I don’t chase.” He paused, stepped further into the room. “But I don’t get played, either.”

That got her. She turned, slow and sharp, her eyes narrow like she’d just heard some bold-ass statement she couldn’t let slide.

“You done?” she asked, lips pursed.

He stepped close enough that she had to tilt her head to hold his gaze.

“Nah,” he said. “Not even close. 'Cause the only thing between us was that kiss you hit me with, and you left me standin’ there like I imagined that shit.”

Her lips parted—maybe to fire back—but he didn’t give her the room.

“I don’t want the games. I want you. All that attitude, them scars, that mouth, the wild. You. So you can keep runnin’ your mouth like I’m just some fun—keep tossin’ snacks at me and callin’ me ‘Unc’—but you felt that shit too.”

He stepped even closer, now chest to chest.

“So either tell me I’m wrong—lie to me if you need to—or stop actin’ like you don’t want to see what the fuck this could be.”

The silence was loud as hell. Her expression unreadable—but her breathing had shifted.

And Roman?

Roman just stood there. Unmoving. Unshaken. Waiting.

Like he already knew she wasn’t gonna lie.

——-

The rest of the crew had gone dead silent.

Tasha sat frozen with her glass mid-sip. Jimmy raised both brows and muttered, “Damn.” Jacob’s eyes darted from Roman to the hallway like he was watching a pitbull circle a lion. Even little Sade sensed the shift and paused mid-play with her toy.

Roman didn’t flinch.

Didn’t flinch when Ebony turned her back.

Didn’t flinch when she threw that line over her shoulder—

“Whatever, stranger. Don’t bark, I bite back.”

Didn’t even blink when she grabbed her bag, hips moving like defiance was stitched into the hem of her attitude, and started heading for her room like she was done with the moment.

The sound of the door shutting barely had time to land.

Because Roman was already moving. Calm. Collected. But coming.

He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t curse, just said real low like it was only meant for her,

“Good. I hope you do bite back. I like a fight worth bruises.”

And then he turned. Walked past everybody like it was just another Tuesday.

Jimmy let out a laugh, slapping Jacob’s shoulder. “Oh, it’s up now. Auntie got herself a Roman problem.”

Imani stood there with the baby on her hip, eyebrows raised high. “Mm. She really done picked the wrong one to try that with.”

Tasha just took a slow sip of her drink. “Nah,” she said, eyes still on the hallway. “She picked the only one who might be able to handle her.”

———

Oh, she was heated. Not outwardly. Not loud. But tight in the jaw, pacing slow in that room, eyes narrowed like the walls had nerves she was trying not to snap.

Behind that door, Ebony stood frozen a beat, her hand still on the knob like it burned.

Because he had the nerve.

He had the unmitigated gall to not only talk slick back—but do it calm, confident, like he meant every word.

“Good. I hope you do bite back. I like a fight worth bruises.”

She scoffed under her breath, shaking her head like she could rattle the sound of his voice out her ears.

“Man, he got me fucked up,” she muttered low, tossing her duffle down hard enough it thudded against the bed frame. She yanked off her hoodie, heat in her chest rising like the bass that usually rattled her Cutlass.

She wasn’t gonna let no man—especially no broad-shouldered, quiet-talking, look-through-you-like-you-see-the-devil man—put a mirror up to her like that.

Not when she was the one who left him in the rearview.

Not when she was supposed to be the storm, not the one getting caught up in it.

Still, her hand was gripping the dresser edge too hard. She caught her reflection in the mirror—tattoos bold on her collar, chain glinting like defiance.

But there was that flicker.

That small, traitorous twitch at the corner of her mouth that looked too close to a smirk.

She slapped the light off.

Nah. He don’t get to live in her head rent free.

Not tonight.

————-

Knock. Knock.

She ain’t move at first.

Just laid there on her back across the bed, one leg bent up, tank top loose, shorts riding high on one thigh. Smoke curling from the blunt between her fingers, “Gettin’ Real” by SZA low in the background, soft like it knew better than to try her.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

Louder this time.

“Who the f** keep knockin’ on this damn door?*” she muttered, swinging her legs off the bed. She didn’t bother putting nothin’ else on—this her room, her space, and anyone dumb enough to pull up best be ready for whatever came with that.

She yanked the door open, voice already firing off—

“Didn’t I say—”

But her words hit a wall when she saw him standing there. Roman. Tall. Calm. Eyes darker than the hallway behind him, like they’d been lookin’ for her even before he knocked.

She blinked once.

Twice.

Then, rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

“You again?”

She didn’t move to close the door though. Didn’t cover up, didn’t back up either. She stayed exactly how she was—shoulder leaned to the frame, thigh ink showing, mouth pulled in that low, annoyed curve that wasn’t fooling nobody.

The blunt still burned between her fingers. Smoke drifted past her cheek as she took a pull, then exhaled slow, staring dead at him.

“So what? You here to finish tellin’ me ’bout myself or you tryna apologize for poppin your lip at me?”

———-

Roman didn’t flinch.

Didn’t stutter, didn’t look away, didn’t let the sight of all that bare skin and attitude send him scrambling like most men would. He stepped forward, slow but solid, crossing that threshold like he paid rent there. His eyes didn’t wander—they stayed right on hers, cold and unmoved like he’d been carved out of silence and smoke.

Door still open behind him, he let it close with a soft click.

She didn’t move. Just arched one brow, her lips wrapping around the blunt again like she was daring him to.

“You bold, huh?”

“Always been,” he said, voice low, steady, and way too calm for how much heat she was throwing.

She shifted her weight, bare foot tapping against the floor once. He was close now. Close enough to smell the honey and gas on her, to feel that tension riding the curve of her shoulder like armor.

Still didn’t shake him.

“So what? You came to talk or just stare at my t—?”

“I came to let you know you ain’t runnin’ from nothin’.” His words cut her off, firm and blunt like a closed fist. “Not from me. Not from what this is. You don’t get to toss a match and walk away like you ain’t start no fire.”

Her smirk faltered.

Just a little.

He stepped closer. Inches away now. His breath hitting her cheek, his presence suddenly too real in her sanctuary.

“You think you shake me?” he asked, voice deep and slow. “You don’t.”

And she hated—hated—how that hit her.

——

She tilted her chin, exhaled a thick cloud of smoke slow and smooth—let it linger between them like her patience.

“Ain’t nothin’ changed, stranger,” she said coolly, eyes narrowed like a challenge. “You don’t know me. You don’t know shit about how to handle a woman like me, so why don’t you back the fuck up out my face before you get caught up in somethin’ you can’t control.”

Roman didn’t budge.

Didn’t blink.

That little half-smile started creeping across his face—low, knowing, dangerous.

“Funny,” he said. “You talk a lot for somebody who kissed me like she meant it.”

That got her. Just a flicker—just enough crack in her armor to make him press closer.

“You loud, but all that noise don’t scare me. I done seen storms meaner than you, and I ain’t never backed down from one yet.”

She stepped up on him then, right in his face, chin tipped up to match his height. Her bare skin hot from the smoke and steam in the room, her jaw clenched.

“You don’t know me.”

“Yet,” he said. “But I will.”

And she hated how that sat in her chest—like he’d just dropped the weight of that truth right on top of her ribcage.

———-

She leaned in slow, deliberate, that fire in her eyes daring him to flinch. Her bare chest pressed against his solid frame, abs firm beneath the thin cotton of his shirt—but she didn’t move like she noticed. Didn’t blink like she gave a damn.

“You think you got some claim, huh?” she murmured, her voice low, southern drawl curling around every word like smoke. “Think standin’ here lookin’ unbothered gon’ get you somewhere?”

She dragged a palm across his chest, not soft—testing, taunting.

“You keep talkin’ like you gon’ hold your own, but I don’t see no action. You gon’ stand there and stare, or you gon’ prove somethin’?”

She was trying to win off sheer force of presence—off the heat of her body pressed against his, her chin tilted, her gold chain brushing his throat like punctuation. She was used to being the one with folks backing down first. Folks folding under pressure. And she was betting heavy on that happening again.

But Roman didn’t move. Didn’t falter.

He just looked down at her—cool, quiet, unshaken.

“Keep talkin’, baby. You gon’ end up the one folded.”

That calm thunder in his voice hit different. Hit her low in the gut, the kind that told her he wasn’t playin’. And it made her blink just once—just enough for him to notice.

He leaned just slightly closer, voice dropping:

“This ain’t dominance. This you scared to see what happen if I don’t back down.”

————-

She scoffed, sharp and airy, like he was the joke of the day.

“Mm. You sound real bold for a random wearin’ feelings on his sleeve,” she muttered, pushing at his shoulder—not hard, but firm, like she was drawing a line she had no real intention of keeping.

“Go on somewhere, Unc,” she added, that teasing edge rolling right off her tongue as she tilted her head and smirked like she knew exactly what she was doing. “Before you get ya lil pride hurt messin’ round in the wrong room.”

She turned like she was done, like he was already forgotten, bare shoulders gleaming in the soft light as she moved toward the edge of the bed to grab her blunt off the nightstand.

But her eyes flicked over her shoulder real quick—just once—to see if he’d actually go.

He didn’t.

———-

He didn’t budge when she shoved him. Just looked at her with that slow, dangerous calm like a storm was about to break.

“I gave you space to act cute,” Roman said, voice low, rough with heat and warning. “Tried to let you run your mouth, get all that attitude off while I played nice.”

He stepped forward before she could finish turning, that wide chest closing in fast, backing her up before she realized she’d moved. His hand pressed against the door, the other braced just to the side of her head like a cage—but he wasn’t touching her. Not yet.

“You keep callin’ me Unc like you ain’t the one that kissed me first,” he said, his voice brushing over her skin like gravel and smoke. “Like you ain’t been runnin’ since.”

Her blunt stayed burning between her fingers, but her breath hitched—and he caught it.

“Ain’t shit sweet about you?” His eyes dragged down her frame, slow and deliberate, then snapped back up. “Then let’s stop playin’. Since you so tough—show me what else you got besides talk.”

———

Roman watched her slip past him, bare and unbothered, like she didn’t just dangle a match over gasoline.

“See yourself out, Unc. Whatever,” she said with a slick smirk, smacking her lips and pulling the last of her clothes off as she made her way toward the guest bathroom—deliberate, like punctuation to end the whole damn interaction.

The door clicked behind her, steam already curling up beneath the crack as water kicked on.

He stood there a second longer, jaw tight, eyes dark. Her energy had been a dare from the moment he saw her—loud, sharp, and a walking problem. But this? This was her putting a period at the end of it like he wasn’t capable of flipping the whole paragraph.

He didn’t leave.

Instead, he sat himself on the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees, watching the closed door.

“You can run your little laps,” he muttered to the empty room, voice low. “But you gon’ circle back. Bet that.”

Ebony stepped out the bathroom, steam curling around her like it was part of her aura—heat trailing in her wake. Skin dewy, edges still laid, eyes half-lidded from the warmth of the shower. She didn’t bother with a towel. Didn’t need one in her own space. She expected silence. An empty room. Her own rhythm uninterrupted.

But the room wasn’t empty.

Roman was still there.

Sitting.

Waiting.

Back against the headboard now, one leg bent up, forearm draped over his knee, eyes dark and steady like he hadn’t moved an inch since she left him standing. Like he belonged there. Not a hint of apology in his gaze—if anything, he looked more settled.

She froze halfway into the room, lips parting slightly, caught between reflex and confusion. Her mouth moved to form words, but the silence sat heavy between them before she could toss another jab.

His eyes moved over her, slow but direct. Not gawking—assessing. Holding her still without laying a hand on her.

Then he spoke, voice low, unshaken:

“Told you I don’t spook easy.”

———-

Ebony scoffed low, hand on her hip, the other gliding up to rest her freshly manicured nails against her cheek like she was bored of the whole scene. Her acrylics sparkled under the low light as she let out a lazy, exaggerated sigh, eyes rolling hard like she couldn’t believe the audacity.

“Ooh, you showed me, huh?” she said, voice dipped in sarcasm and sass. “Look at you. Sittin’ there all proud like you did somethin’. Big game, Unc… congrats. You can sit down.”

She gave a mocking little slow clap, the smirk on her face both teasing and taunting. Her bare skin still glistened in the soft light, but she carried herself like she was draped in a full designer fit—unbothered, unshaken, and still fully in control.

“What’s next? You gon’ tell me you good at leanin’ against walls too?”

She turned just enough to show off that confident strut again, acting like she was done—but only just enough to see if he’d finally fold… or show her she finally met her match.

————

That was it.

She thought she was playing him, working him like one of the many who crumbled the second she stepped into their space—bare, bold, and all that attitude like armor. But Roman didn’t fold. Not now, not when she rolled her eyes and tossed her words around like she owned the air between them.

He stood slow, patient… deliberate. That mountain of a man rose from his seat with that steady calm, like thunder before the storm. His jaw was set, eyes dark as night and locked on her with quiet intent. No loud threats. No chest beating.

Just presence.

And then he moved.

One long stride and she felt him behind her—heat, strength, that weight of a man who didn’t just talk but moved with purpose. She started to turn, her mouth already winding up for another smart comment—

But his hand caught her wrist mid-spin.

Not rough, but firm.

She blinked up at him, and that teasing smirk started to slip.

He leaned in low, voice deep and low enough to settle in her bones.

“You don’t run nothing in my space.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out fast enough before his other hand found the small of her back, pulling her flush against his chest. Bare skin to fabric, heartbeats close and heavy.

“You walk around tryna bait me like I’m some fool who ain’t been in fire hotter than your mouth,” he murmured, head dipping to the side of her ear. “But I’m not scared of your bark. And I damn sure bite back.”

He let her go with the same control he entered with—giving her space, but not permission. She was still in the room, but now he was in her head.

He stepped back once, slow and silent, waiting to see if she still had a game to play… or if she was finally ready for a real one.

—————

Ooh, she want to test him for real now?

Alright, let’s take it there—

She didn’t move right away. She just stood there, still bare, still proud—manicured nails resting on her hips, chin tilted like a dare lived in her throat. That same little smirk curled at her mouth again as she watched him watching her.

“Mmhm,” she muttered, voice dipped in sarcasm. “That’s what I thought. All that bark, and still just another soft-spoken church boy wit’ muscles. You ain’t bout shit, unc. Just another big dude scared to grab a real woman wit’ a real mouth.”

And that?

That hit.

Roman’s jaw flexed.

His eyes cut sharper.

She saw it, felt it—and still, still, she pushed. Stepped right up on him again, head barely coming to his chest, but looking up like she had him cornered.

“You one of them types that just look like pressure, huh?” she whispered up at him, voice all sugar-coated poison. “But really? Ain’t even heavy enough to move me. You just a nice lil view, unc. Ain’t nobody scared of that.”

She reached up, slow, dragged the tip of her nail down his chest like she was bored, like she was calling his bluff for the last time.

“You got all this mouth now,” she said softly, "but it’s real funny how you ain’t done nothin’ yet.”

And that—that right there—was the match to gasoline.

Because Roman didn’t respond with words.

He moved.

Fast, sudden, decisive. One arm around her waist, the other gripping the back of her neck—not hurting, but holding, like he’d made the decision for both of them. Her breath caught in her throat before her pride could catch up.

He pulled her in—close enough for heat to transfer, for her heart to jump against her ribs, for that cocky attitude to hang in the air unfinished.

His voice dropped low against her ear.

“Say one more word, and I promise you—you gon’ learn what pressure feel like.”

She tilted her head, nails drumming against her bare hip, eyes locked on his with that stormy, reckless glint. That smart mouth curled up into something wicked as she leaned in just enough for her breath to kiss the edge of his jaw.

“One. More. Word.” She said it low, like a promise or a threat—hell, probably both.

Roman’s jaw ticked, his breath steady but his stance shifting. That calm, unbothered look he usually wore was gone, peeled back by the fire she kept trying to dance in.

She thought he’d back down.

Instead—

He stepped into her space, body towering, hand reaching behind her neck slow, deliberate. Not rough, not gentle—sure. Like he wasn’t playing no more.

“I ain’t gotta say a word,” he murmured, voice deep and low like thunder rolling in close. “You do all that talkin’, but it’s your ass that keep callin’ me out.”

And before she could clap back, before she could roll them smart-ass eyes one more time—he kissed her. Hard. Full of all that tension she kept stoking. Ain’t no hesitation, ain’t no room left for games. He backed her into that wall like she wasn’t the one in control no more, hand still at her neck, his other gripping the back of her thigh to hike it up.

“You gon’ learn not to play with me, baby.” That voice—gritty, confident, true.

Ain’t no bluff in him now.

———

She laughed in his face—short, breathy, like she was trying to ignore the way her heart was beating like it was trying to escape her chest. Like she hadn’t just felt the whole damn room shift around them.

“You’re bluffing,” she smirked, voice cocky but shaky at the edges. “Ain’t nobody pressed over me like that, unc.”

But her chest was rising a little quicker now, her thigh still gripped in his hand, and he hadn’t moved—not even a little. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

Roman’s eyes were dark, focused, lips parted just enough to show he heard her—but he didn’t believe her.

“That what you tell yourself?” he asked low, pressing his forehead to hers now, voice damn near a growl. “You call it bluffin’ ‘cause you scared to admit what it really is.”

He didn’t need to raise his voice. The stillness said it all—this man wasn’t going nowhere.

His thumb dragged lazy under her jaw, rough pad brushing skin too soft to ignore.

“Tell me I ain’t in your head right now,” he said, holding her gaze. “Tell me your heart ain’t about to beat out your chest.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

“You wanna call me a bluff?” he whispered, lips brushing hers now, breath hot. “Cool. Let’s raise the stakes then.”

He kissed her again—but this time it was slower. Hungrier. Like he was daring her to keep lying.

———

She tilted her head just enough to smirk, mouth slick with pride and nerves, pupils blown wide but her tone trying to stay sharp.

“Still ain’t nothing, unc,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip—hard, like she could chew the truth back into her throat.

But her voice cracked on the tail end of it. Her hands stayed still at her sides, balled in slow, shaking fists like she didn’t trust ‘em to reach for him first. Her chest brushed his with every shallow breath, and she was staring off somewhere over his shoulder now—anywhere but those eyes.

He caught that.

He didn’t say a word about it, just leaned down again, close enough to speak right into her skin.

“You keep talkin’ like your body ain’t already told me what’s real,” Roman murmured, thumb brushing her lip now, dragging across the spot she just bit.

“Pupils big, lip caught, breath short—yeah, you talkin’, but it ain’t makin’ sense no more.”

She swallowed hard, jaw twitching, but still trying to hold that cocky tilt to her chin.

“You want me gone?” he asked, low and steady, not a bluff in sight. “Say the word. But say it lookin’ me in the eye.”

And that—that—was the part she couldn’t seem to do.

——-

She tilted her chin up like she still ran the whole block, nose flared with that same “I wish a muthafucka would” energy—but her lips?

Locked tight.

Not a word left her mouth.

Just the drag of her eyes as they rolled hard toward the ceiling, like maybe the drywall would save her from the heat lapping up her spine. Like maybe if she didn’t meet his eyes, she could keep pretending her knees weren’t already softening.

Roman saw all that.

The fire, the fight, the fear… and the want.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, stepping in close again, his voice brushing against her jaw this time.

“That’s what I thought.”

He didn’t touch her. Didn’t need to. His presence did enough damage just standing there—solid, unbothered, all control.

“Now go ‘head,” he said, low and calm, like a dare. “Keep actin’ like you ain’t got nothin’ to say. But remember, I don’t need words to know exactly how to handle you.”

———

She hadn’t meant to touch him.

Not really.

Just meant to slide past him again with her usual attitude, maybe brush his ego with her words—but her fingers? They betrayed her.

Grazed along the curve of that wide, solid shoulder. Felt the heat of him under that shirt. The slow, pulsing tension in every muscle, like he’d been waiting on her to fold.

Her breath hitched, barely.

And her bottom lip?

Already trapped between her teeth, bitten like she could hold back whatever was rising up in her chest.

Roman clocked it all.

Didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Just looked at her.

His jaw flexed once, and his chest rose slow behind the black cotton stretched over it.

She was still holding onto that stubborn pride—but her hand lingered. Her lip trembled just enough to betray her. And he leaned in just a little more, voice low as gravel:

“Don’t do that unless you ready for the rest, ma.”

And this time, he wasn’t bluffing.

———-

She closed that space like it owed her something.

No hesitation now—just bare feet, bare skin, and bare truths wrapped up in tension thick enough to suffocate.

Her hand slid up his chest this time—slow, deliberate—until she was on her toes, breath warm and sweet against his ear.

And that voice?

Low, velvet, dangerous.

“Don’t play like you’re about it…” She whispered it like a secret and a threat all at once, the curve of her mouth brushing his jaw.

Roman didn’t blink.

Didn’t back up.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

His hand found the small of her back, rough palm dragging down like he was marking territory. His lips ghosted just beneath her jaw, and his voice came out so deep it stirred something low in her gut.

“Playtime been over.” Another inch closer. “You the one stallin’, ma.”

—————

She moved like smoke—slow, deliberate, impossible to hold once she started.

Her lips grazed over his, not quite a kiss, more like a taunt carved in heat. The faintest touch—so soft it felt like it didn’t even happen, but it did. And he felt it everywhere.

Her eyes didn’t close. Didn’t flinch.

She stayed there, breath mingling with his, lips brushing again, just enough to test how long he could stand being touched without being taken.

Her other hand… lower now. Teasing the thick rise under his sweats from the outside, light strokes that mocked more than they promised. Fingertips tracing over cotton, knuckles skimming the heat of him as if curious how far she could push without breaking him.

“Still bluffing?” she whispered, her voice warm and dangerous against his mouth.

————-

His jaw flexed, eyes pinned to hers with a stillness that made the air around them feel like it cracked open.

“You really think this a game, huh?” he muttered, low and dark, his voice brushing against her lips like a warning—or a promise.

Then he moved.

Not rushed, not reckless—controlled. That calm-before-the-storm dominance that didn’t need to raise its voice to shake a room. His hand wrapped around her wrist—the one teasing him—and pressed it flat against his chest, right over his heart.

“Feel that?” he said, tone steady but thick with pressure. “That’s me still bein’ patient.”

His free hand gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, the hard line of his body undeniable. And just like that, the tease flipped. She was the one backed into heat, the one caught between her own games and the gravity he moved with.

“I’m not one of these boys you scare off with pretty lips and fast hands,” he growled, his mouth brushing her jaw. “You touch me like that again, I’ma remind you who set the rules.”

Then he kissed her.

Not a tease. Not soft.

It was possession—like he’d decided she was his the second she dared to test him. Like he’d been waiting to snap and she just pulled the pin.

She broke the kiss just barely—lips still brushing his, breath uneven, but the glint in her eyes was pure challenge.

“You think that’s supposed to shut me up?” she whispered, chest rising against his with heat, her voice smoky but sharp. “One kiss, and you think you own me?”

Then she pulled back just enough to glare up at him, head tilted with that trademark defiance—eyes locked, lip curled like she was about to bite again.

Her hand slid down his chest slow, intentional, before resting bold against that same rise beneath his sweats. Fingers pressing with just enough pressure to remind him she was still dangerous in her own way.

“I told you before… don’t bark if you can’t bite back,” she said low, lips grazing his jaw this time. “So what now, Unc? You gon’ tuck tail, or you gon’ really show me what all that bass in your chest mean?”

She held his gaze.

No flinch. No fear. Just fire.

Testing him again—one last time.

Daring him to rise to it. Or fall back.

Roman didn’t say a word.

Didn’t have to.

His jaw flexed, those dark eyes dragging over her with a patience that was far past gone. She’d lit the match, and now he was about to let it burn.

One hand gripped her waist tight, the other sliding up the bare of her back—slow, commanding, like he had the right. And in this moment? He did.

“You done talkin’?” His voice was a low growl, deep and dangerous, dragging over her skin like heat.

She opened her mouth—maybe to pop off again, maybe not. Didn’t matter.

He turned her around quick, strong enough to let her know this wasn’t a game, chest to her back as he gripped her jaw from behind—forcing her to keep those defiant eyes on their reflection in the mirror nearby.

“Don’t look away now,” he muttered, low and deadly. “You wanted a man to bite back? Say less.”

———

She smirked, still testing him, still thinking she could run circles ‘round a man like him. Her fingers grazed the waistband of his sweats, teasing, light, thinking she was calling the shots.

That smirk faded fast.

Roman’s hand closed around her wrist—not rough, but firm—still as calm as ever. He stepped in close, that slow, looming presence like a storm rolling in. No words yet. Just a look. The kind that made her stomach flip and her throat go dry.

Then he spoke, voice low like gravel, eyes locked on hers.

“Get on the bed.”

She blinked. He didn’t say it twice.

When she didn’t move fast enough, Roman peeled off his shirt in one motion—broad chest flexing, tattoos cutting deep under warm skin. She stared longer than she meant to. That man looked carved from tension and hunger and the kind of heat she ain’t ever been warned about.

And when he stepped out of those sweats, it was game over.

A low, shocked breath escaped her lips, pride almost making her take a step back—but her knees damn near gave in before she could move. He was built like every warning she ignored and every dare she ever made, staring down at her like he was the one holding the leash now.

He moved slow, crawling over her with deliberate weight, dragging fingers up the outside of her thigh like he had all the time in the world. Her body trembled before he even touched her where it counted. And when he did?

She gasped—back arching, mouth falling open as he leaned in close, lips brushing her ear.

“You sure you ready to bite back, huh?”

She thought she was teasing. Thought she was in control.

But the moment Roman pressed her wrists down into the mattress, her back arching instinctively beneath him, she realized—he was the problem. And the answer.

“Keep playin’, I’ma break that attitude right off you,” he growled against her neck, his voice thick with restraint. His hips didn’t move yet—he made her wait, made her squirm.

And then he sank into her.

Slow. Deep. Like he wanted her to feel every inch of what she’d been mocking.

The breath hitched in her throat, eyes rolling back as he filled her completely, stretching her in a way that pulled a sound out of her chest she didn’t even know she could make. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her open wider—owning her rhythm, setting a pace she couldn’t run from.

“You was talkin’ big, right?” he murmured low, dark eyes locked on her face. “Where all that mouth at now, huh?”

Each thrust was deliberate—devastating. He didn’t rush. He studied the way her body responded to him. The gasps. The clutch of her fingers. The way her back bowed when he hit the right spot—over and over.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. She was trying to keep up, trying not to let go too soon, but Roman wasn’t lettin’ her have anything easy.

When her legs started to shake, he flipped her over, one hand planted firmly on the small of her back, the other gripping her hair just enough to tilt her head back as he leaned in close, dragging his teeth against her shoulder.

“I said—where that mouth at?”

All she could do was whimper.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He picked up the pace, deeper now, sharper. His name spilled out her lips in broken syllables she couldn’t control. Her pride, her bite, her bark—gone. Buried somewhere under every drop of heat he poured into her.

And when she came undone—loud, breathless, trembling—he still didn’t stop. He chased his own release with that same locked-in focus, groaning deep in his throat as her body clamped around him, milking every last drop of the lesson he came to teach.

By the time he was done?

She wasn’t cocky. She wasn’t loud. She was laid out—silk sheets tangled around her hips, chest heaving, lips parted like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to curse him out or pull him back in.

Roman leaned down, kissed her jaw, and whispered—

“Next time you talk slick, just remember who you called on.”

And damn if her body didn’t shiver all over again.

#romance #x black oc #alternate universe #mature fanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black oc

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officer-sebastian · 1 year ago

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*Sebastian huffed and squeezed his way through an unexpected number of scientists and other employees through Sector E’s halls. Giving quick “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s” as he kept rubbing shoulders with lab coats. Sebastian figured that this stretch of the Science Team must be clocking out for a late lunch, he’s never seen any sector’s halls so packed before, unless you count the highest level of top-side customer service and protection from the general and oddball public.*

Christ al’mighty Ah’m jus’ tryn’a git ta mah shift, y’know, th’shift that keeps y’all from actin’ like dogs without horses.. Clearly it ain’t helpin’ much, Jesus.

*After a few more left turns, the checkpoint position he had been assigned comes into view, another guard tapping his fingers on the desk and perking up at the sight of Sebastian.*

“Christ, Seb, what took you so fuckin’ long, eh? Was ‘bout to just clock out and leave this place hanging.”

*Sebastian just chuckled* Yeah, yeah, mighty sorry ‘bout that. Fer some damn reason th’halls were packed full of them lab rats an’ Ah could hardly git past. Go take’a piss an’ then cool off on yer lunch, Pauly, Ah got it from ‘ere.

*The guard scoffed and crossed his arms* “Whatever. Thankfully those old cronies only now just took lunch, what ever reason you’re filed under checkpoint over here, you’ll be glad to know it’s practically empty now. Have fun staring at the wall.”

Yer too kind. Ah take it ya prob’ly scared ‘em off an’-

*There was the faintest rumble between under their feet. Several lights from down the hall suddenly flicker and blow out, the emergency lights immediately turn on, painting the metallic walls an eerie red. Sebastian goes quiet at that, steadily eyeing the darkened hallway and listening close for anything suspicious.*

*Officer Pauly swallows audibly, eyes still on Sebastian* “The hell was tha-“

*BUZWARN* Warning. Power Outages Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Affected Personnel Please Be Advised.

*BUZWARN* Warning. Unauthorized Biological Forms Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Non-Disaster Response Personnel Evacuate Immediately.

*GARBLED BUZWARN* Warning. W-Warning. Security i̴̜̒̚͠n̵̢̫̞͍̍̆ ̵̢̦͈̜̏̂̑̉[̶̨̰̹̟́͛̑̓S̶̢̰̤͛̀ͅĖ̵̟̲̌Ć̴̥͍̣̞́̐T̴̯̿O̴̻̮͚̅Ṛ̵̠̟͍͒͆́̄ ̵͔̓Ḙ̷́̏͘]̷̧̪͗̎͗͋ ̵̠̝͌͜͝R̵̖̼̰̬̅̍e̴̱̔͒̌p̷̡̙̥̜̊͆õ̸̻r̴̗̤̀̽̏̇t̶̨̧̺̫͠ ̵̞̻̲͑̑́̐T̷̯̰̘̦̍̒̌ơ̴̼͔̿ ̵̘̣́[̶̖̰̓̇̓Ḁ̸͓̞̿̂̔̌D̷̞̫̣̻͗͗V̴͓̿A̸̢̻̤̘͂N̶̳̙̫̊͂C̷̜͎̆E̴̙̘͛̉̈̕D̷͙͕̜̹́͝ ̴̠͖̗͛͝ͅB̷̲̞͊̊͗Ḯ̸̘Ợ̵̩̒̏̇L̸͉̖̒̄̆̉O̵͇̅̀͘͝G̶͓͇̊̓̽Ḭ̴̦̥͕̌̌̊Ç̷̓A̴̮͉̩̋̀̀ͅL̶͎̈̆̇̚ ̸̗͕͌R̴̨̰̋̾͝È̷̺͕̏̓ͅS̴͕͆̚E̴͚̩̫̍̀̆͜͝A̷̼͋̃̍R̸̤̳͑̚C̴̩͕̼̬͠H̶̥̤̓ ̴͖̦̱̈̓͂̈͜C̶͙̿̒O̶̼̖̳̼͆M̷̠̖̬̦̽̾P̵̠͕̰̈͂̇L̸̝̀E̴̺̮̱̊̈̑͠X̵̛̗̹̂]̷͍́̃͑́ ̷̬͈̬͖̋͆Ị̸̛̩̲̦͒̅m̷̦̠͋̇̃͠m̵̖͕̙͉̿̚ë̸̬́̋͌d̴͈̹̝̀i̵̤̔̈́à̴̟͇̍̓͌t̸̲͍̦͒̽̄e̵̠̽̈́̇̈́l̶̰̍͜y̷̡̧̘̒̏̈́̈

*The two security guards listened in shocked silence as the automated comms buzzed in and out, the emergency lights flicking at the same time. Sebastian persed his lips in a straight line, taking a deep breath and suddenly pushing Pauly into the checkpoint box*

“THE HELL ARE YOU-?!” *The guard began to shout in protest, before Sebastian tossed him inside and shut the door. Pauly gets up immediately, pounding on the glass* “OI ASSHOLE! The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

*Sebastian snapped his fingers and put one up to his lips* Quiet. Ah’m goin’ ta check it out. It ain’t lookin’ good on our department if they go an’ lose two men on th’job. Ya sit tight an’ wait it out fer me, ‘kay?

*The guard sputtered a few times at that response, gesturing his hands wildly before sighing and giving up any retort, having known Sebastian long enough to know arguing with him like this is fruitless* “If you go and get yourself killed I won’t be there for whatever shoddy funeral they give you. It’ll be all your fault down to the grave, Seb.”

Thank ya, kindly, Pauly. How ‘bout we go an’ git’a beer with th’boys if Ah make back it in at least 3/4s? Ah’ll make a��bet with ya. *Sebastian clicks off the safety of his pistol and checks the magazine while he talks*

“Wh- Pfft, fucksake, Sebastian. Fine, whatever, I’ll bet. Quit wasting time.”

*Sebastian nods and runs down the hallway, making a salute with his pistol before turning around completely*

#post #reboot

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valeskawhore · 1 year ago

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Here me out:

Addley Koffin would be the type to get attached to a pregnant victim. And just here me out on it—

You and all your friends getting locked up in the basement of their home. You, getting snappy just ONCE because of your pregnancy hormones which results in addley snapping at you and pinning a gun to your chin; backed up into a wall.

You begged, babbling out a spew of apologies as you held your stomach instinctively which causes his eyes to flicker down and understand what’s really going on.

Bro backs off, immediately. I mean— what would MAMA THINK? Hm? If he not only put his hands on a WOMAN but a PREGNANT WOMAN.

Would usher you to the closest couch or seat available, waving his gun around telling people to fuckin’ move, pregnant lady comin’ through.

But to keep it realistic, addley would be attached to you because of his major mommy issues and deep attachment to his own mother. He was raised to respect — MOTHERS— if anything. Because it was said on the news, that addley was also accused of rape of a young victim.

And with just how he treats the other victims in general throughout the movie. but I feel like if he was faced by a pregnant woman.. well.

How the turn tables.

He’s still a pervert. Eyeing your leaking breasts like they were a waterfall sent from the gods and he was a scorched man from the dessert.

Cue to him licking his lips.

His eyes would be blown out as he thought of all the ways he could fuck you against any surface and still be careful with the baby in mind. How badly he just wanted to drink from your breasts and taste the milky dialect of your pregnant body.

Coming up from behind you, just to hold you and have his hands on your stomach. All. The. Time. He was such pervert.

Showing you off to momma, gloating about how nice he was to you. And how pregnant you are, and that’s why he was so nice to you.

Don’t expect him to change, he’s still seeking validation, especially from his mother.

This man would be so protective over you and because of this— he’d snap at his little brother, telling him to stop eyeing you because one, you were his and so was that baby.

But 2, just also telling him to have some, fuckin’ respect and to stop actin lika’ goddamn perverted sonuvabitch

Dosent matter if you had a husband or a boyfriend— because now you don’t. As soon as addley swoons you into allowing him to place his hands on your stomach just to feel that baby kick, he’s in.

It’s over, he’s decided. It’s his baby.

Neither you or the baby knows it yet but addley already upstairs talking to mama about bringing y’all along. Almost talking about you as if you were some pet at the pet store.

“But mama, I—I-I’ll protect her! N’ uh, I’ll—uh, I’ll get her food?”

“I’ll make sure tha’ baby has a good Lif— you- you— you, always said you wanted grandchildren, right? ‘Ere’s your chance.”

#funny story #funny content #yandere #x reader #funny shit #addley #mothers day #mothersdayfilm #warren kole #addleykoffin #addley koffin x reader #addley koffin

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bigtreefest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1: Shuffle With Me, Houston Stranger

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis keeps a busy life between helping out on the farm and running the garage. There are some moments and places that give him reprieve, though, and one of them happens to be a bar where a certain sweetie works.

Word count: 3,386

Content/warnings: not many, mentions of drinking and alcohol, bar setting, weird vague emotional states, another guy hopelessly head over boots (what else is new, y’all should know this is how I write all my love interests at his point), menacing foreshadowing

Author’s Note: this takes place at the same time as chapters 3, 4, and 5 of YCMBWH and chapter 1 of The Rainmaker. You can technically read it alone, but the other stories help fill in some gaps. Check out the rest of the AU!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

Curtis walked into the shop with sore shoulders and a slight ache in his heels from a long day of unexpected work and standing. His cousin had called him in to help out with a few chores at the farm since she had to run the Friday farmer’s market, so the day was long and tiresome.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was go through and double check his books for the auto body shop, so he decided against it. Even if he went through everything tonight, it’s not like it would be quality work.

He figured he’d just quickly make sure everything was in its place in the office and the garage to make paperwork easier for him on Monday and work easier for the guys in the morning. Then, he’d be able to join his cousin and her new farmhand at the bar.

Curtis was organizing his socket wrenches by size when he heard a rattling sound become louder behind him. He turned as he sensed it coming closer, seeing an old truck pull into his garage.

He looked down to check his watch. The shop had been long closed by now, and he had places to be. Based off the noise though, he couldn’t deny something was definitely wrong with the vehicle. If Curtis weren’t such a good man, he would’ve turned the patron away, but there was no saying how far a truck that sounded like that could possibly get.

He tilted his head, examining the vehicle and attempting to peer through the glare in the drivers side window when the engine turned off and he saw a pair of old, comfy shoes step down from the cab. His eyes traced up the body before him and Curtis was speechless. Your hair was just tucked under an old ball cap, nothing fancy.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind, I’m not sure what this sound means and was hoping you had time to take a look at my truck. I know you guys are closed, so it’s no rush, but I’d really appreciate it. I’d rather know where my car is than get stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

Curtis continued to stand there, mesmerized by you until he shook his head back into the present. “Oh, um, sure. I think I have the evening free, so let me just check on a few things real quick and I can take a look at it.”

Curtis pulled out his phone to text his cousin that he wouldn’t make it to the bar tonight.

He stuffed his phone in his back pocket, going to grab a chair from the front office as you followed. “Never good when a truck that old makes a sound like that.”

You nodded along. “Oh trust me, I know. Darn thing’s even older than me. Usually I’m able to figure out the minor stuff, but this is beyond what I know.”

Curtis nodded when he went to set a metal folding chair down by where you had pulled the truck onto one of his lifts. It scraped against the concrete floor, and he was surprised by the way you simply looked at it, as if you were offended that he’d want you to sit down.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Curtis, I own this shop.” The mechanic stuck out his hand, cleaner than you would’ve expected, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you. One of my coworkers actually suggested I come here when the truck started acting up. Said his best friend was the big cheese.”

Curtis laughed. “Um, he used those exact words? Or are those yours? Where are you from?”

You shook your head. “Oh no, sorry, those were my words. I think he just called you the boss, he’s the bouncer at the bar?”

Curtis clicked his tongue as he walked over to the hood of your car, propping it open. “Okay, you’re talking about my buddy, Edgar. Yeah, I’m glad he sent you to me. He works some shifts for me now and then. So you’re new to town? I go to the bar pretty often, I’ve never seen you there.”

You nodded your head tentatively. “Yeah, didn’t think it would be so noticeable I just moved here from Houston, but I’m really from here and there, lived almost everywhere. Been working at the bar for about a week now.”

Curtis nodded as he looked deeper into your engine, testing the tightness of parts and how full each fluid was. “Well how about that. Yeah, we don’t get too many people moving here, but I’m sure it’s a nice change from the city.”

You nodded and hummed, walking over and leaning under the hood of the car with him. “Agreed. I don’t think many mechanics would be this patient with me out there.”

Curtis lightly chuckled as he looked up at you over his shoulder. “Well I’ll be honest with you, patience is one thing, but you probably won’t think I’m very kind when I tell you this truck probably wont survive the next time you take a far journey if you plan to move…”

His small smile was replaced with a grimace. Maybe if he knew you were leaving soon like you seemed to do so often, he could hold himself back more. He could tell himself that there was no point in being attached, being himself for you to see. He’d hold off on the kindness that poured out to everyone he knew and loved, because it would hurt for you to take it and leave.

Your face held a small smile, though, despite his look of worry. “Well what if I planned on staying?”

Curtis looked back into the engine in an attempt to hide the redness in his cheeks. He was warm at the thought of you sticking around. He jiggled the loose part he found, grunting from leaning over so far, before he spoke up, partially avoiding your question.

“Well, you see this right here. I’d replace it and say it would be good for another couple of years.”

You beamed. “That’s good news!”

Curtis stood up to his full height and for the first time, you noticed just how towering his stature was. Anyone else would be intimidated from a distance, but from this proximity, you could see the kindness in his eyes.

“Yes and no.” It came out softer than he had intended. “I’ve gotta make a special order, and it will probably take at least a week to come in. Do you have another way to get to work?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my apartment isn’t too far from the bar. Walking shouldn’t be an issue.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Are you sure? I know you guys have some pretty late shifts.”

“Curtis, I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.” He sighed in response.

“Alright, if you say so. I’ll put in for that part and in the meantime, your truck can stay here.” He walked over to the workbench and scribbled on a piece of paper, tearing it off and handing it to you.

“Here’s my personal number. In case you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me. I could even set up a ride for you if you change your mind.”

You took the paper, creasing it in the middle and stuffing it in your pocket. “Well, I’ve got a shift tomorrow and I think I might get there on time if I start walking now. Bit of a ways to my place from your shop. Any chance you could drive me home so I can sleep?”

Curtis sighed and checked his watch. “Yeah, I guess so, considering I’m holding your car captive. Come on, I’ll close up and we’ll get you home.”

As you waited for the new car part to be delivered to the shop, you kept working. Bills had to be paid. You had to keep living.

You were surprised the next day at work when Edgar had offered to walk you home after your shift, and every night after then, but didn’t question it. You were just appreciative to have a nice coworker you could trust.

Another surprise was the amount of take out orders that you’d have to give out from the bar. Most of which were going to a certain handsome mechanic.

It was Wednesday night, and the fourth time he’d come to pick up dinner this week. The man must really like cheese curds. You didn’t question it, though, as you handed him his order, asking for updates and waving goodbye with a somber smile as he left too soon, and spoke very little.

What you didn’t know was that Curtis had food at home, sitting in his fridge as he opted for the extra opportunities to see you. You also didn’t know how much he feared opening up his mouth and exposing himself by saying the wrong thing to the first person to make him nervous in a long time. Curtis was generally steady, driven, easygoing, but he could feel that world, that demeanor, start to tilt.

Curtis had a long week. A week much longer than he expected with the extra work he had to do out on the farm instead of in the shop. Sure, he was getting along better and better with Bucky, but that didn’t change the fact that there was too much going wrong.

Cole, that little shit from high school, was back and Curtis’s cousin had gotten stuck in a mine. There was no time for sleep, let alone stopping by the bar with this much of a crisis going on.

As soon as the rocks collapsed in the mine, Curtis was freaking out. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. He called Sam, telling him everything he could about those who were close enough to have heard of the mines. After that, he got to work.

He assessed what all would need done in the next day and did as many small tasks as he could, staying up until he could greet the helpers on the way.

All Curtis wanted to do was sleep, this was taking a toll on him, but he did his best to not let it show, to not become a grump. He just put his head down and made himself useful while Bucky waited back at the mine. At the first available opportunity, he was going to drop into a bed and nap. This week was stretching him thin.

Meanwhile, you continued to work at the bar. After seeing him for several days in a row, it was concerning that Curtis seemingly fell off the face of the Earth. Surely that wasn’t your business, though. Maybe it was just a coincidence he was ordering food so often before. He had better places to be, like work, or maybe on a date.

Why would you care, though? He was just the nice guy fixing your car. There was no way he was going out of his way to visit; probably just had some late nights at the shop and that’s why he picked up dinner, not to see you. Anyway, work was always busy enough for your mind to be occupied. You’d at least see him again hopefully once that coveted car part came in.

After a much easier Saturday at the farm, Curtis was ready to have a nice, relaxing time at the bar. As the crew he came with went inside, he hung back to talk to Edgar. He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

Edgar patted him back. “Good, I’m good. Been walking your girl home like you asked. She’s working tonight.” A smirk crept onto his face as Curtis looked down.

“But besides that, what’s going on with you?”

Curtis sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He turned a picture of Cole Turner towards Edgar.

“Um, I’m alright. A little stressed, but I’m hoping you can help. I’ve got something for you.”

Edgar looked up from the piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“Someone who we need to make sure stays out of here. And if you see him, you let me know, okay?”

Edgar nodded. “Sure thing. Have fun with your girl.”

Curtis rolled his eyes and walked through the door to catch up with everyone else.

You were pouring out drinks for the group that came in when a familiar tall, broad form approached from the doorway. You took in the way his shoulders pushed at the flannel fabric of his shirt as he sauntered into the room. You couldn’t help the way the smile already on your face grew to see him again.

“Oh hey, if it isn’t the big cheese.” He laughed at the nickname, shaking his head as he moved to take a seat at the bar.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in for awhile. Had some family matters to attend to. Speaking of which, that’s them over there.” He gestured toward the group who had just ordered food and drinks from you before heading towards the booths on the far side of the room.

“Ah! Okay, in that case, this is for you.” You grabbed a short rocks glass from the lower counter in front of you and set it up on the bar top in front of Curtis. The glass made a small thud against the finished wood as you looked at him.

Curtis tentatively grabbed it and sipped. After swallowing he hummed.

“Sweet. Like a cherry.”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s because it’s got extra cherries. Your buddies over there said you’d drink whatever, so I made you my favorite.”

Curtis lowered the glass and looked at you deeply with his warm, burning sapphire eyes. His voice grew low and raspy. “I wasn’t talking about the drink.”

He winked at you and you had no idea how your legs didn’t fail you right then. You were able to quickly recover, though, shooting a remark right back.

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you test that conjecture.” You could see his cheeks grow warm at the suggestive statement. You grabbed your rag and threw it over your shoulder, leaning closer to the towering man who was just confident, now evidently bashful.

“Curtis, are you…blushing?”

His eyebrows were quick to arch as his attempt of a scowl failed to break through past a shy smile. “No! Blushing is fake. It doesn’t exist. That’s just an old wives tale.”

You looked at his skeptically, not even attempting to hide the laugh that burst out. “What do you mean you think it’s fake? You’re so red right now.”

Curtis’s eyes shifted around the room, unsure of how to respond. “I just feel really…warm…when I look at you.” He muttered so low you could barely hear it.

You wanted to keep pushing before his embarrassment made him turn away from you.

“Hey listen, I’ll be back. I’ve gotta check in with the group, but keep this stool saved for me?”

You nodded. “Sure thing.”

As soon as Curtis returned, he was glued to his chair. He spent the entire evening chatting with you, asking about your life, and telling you about his on the farm and at the shop.

You were honestly grateful for the one bit of peace on a busy bar Saturday night. Every chance you got, you were leaning against the counter by him to take a breath, watching his friends ride the bull and dance together. What a group of great people.

“So, have you been able to make it home alright this week? I’m sorry that truck part still hasn’t come in yet.”

You nodded as you poured a line of shots for a group of girls waiting on the corner. “Yeah, it hasn’t really been a problem. Edgar’s been insistent on walking me to my door, which helps me feel better when it’s that dark out. Just makes me feel bad, though, because I think I finish a little later than his shift time is supposed to be.”

“Well that’s nice of him. If you want, I can drive you home tonight. Might take some of that load off if you’re worried.” Curtis’s eyes watched you slide the shots to the patrons as you came back to his seat and sighed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you staying here later than you have to, either. It’s really okay. I can definitely take care of myself.”

Curtis shrugged. “I don’t doubt that at all, Cherry. But I’m offering. And I’d be a fool to prematurely end one of the best nights I’ve had in awhile. I really don’t mind.”

“Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”

As the night was winding down, and Curtis’s group had already come over to close out the tab, the two of you watched the remaining people prepare to head out. Who was Curtis that he knew someone with a black card? Supposedly they were business associates of the farm. Was farming really that lucrative? You guessed so.

You rejoined the present as the last few slow songs came on the juke box and Curtis held out his hand.

“You know how to dance?”

You scoffed, “Curtis, I’m still working. But yes, do you think I could’ve gotten by all this time without a little bit of knowledge?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve been worried if you did. Come on, there’s hardly anyone left. Shuffle with me, you little Houston stranger.”

You sidestepped the bar and walked out the small half door to join Curtis on the dance floor, holding both his hands and looking up into his eyes. “I’d say we’re hardly strangers now. You don’t learn nothing after hours of talking like that.”

You began to swing to the twangy music, holding each other close. Curtis twirled you and pulled you into his chest where your ear could hear his racing heart. The warmth and the scent of his cologne were comforting. His arms blanketing you, shielding you from all other thoughts besides this moment. As the song faded out, you realized you two were the only ones left besides the other employees doing the final tidying up before shutting down for the night. You reluctantly pulled your body from Curtis, left only holding each other’s hands.

“I should probably go help with the closing duties. Can you wait for me by the door?”

Curtis nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Curtis watched you go back to your cash register as he walked back towards Edgar, keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“So, anything interesting happen tonight?”

Edgar nodded with with wide eyes. “Um, yeah. That guy you gave me a picture of, he came by. Threw a fit when I wouldn’t let him in. Some dude in fancy clothes and a mustache was with him, too. Not sure what that was about, but they at least respected the badge.”

Curtis huffed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

This was not good. Curtis pulled out his phone and texted Bucky.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Tbh, even I don’t know where this story is gonna go, but I love Curtis a lot and will need some time to find a niche plot that will do him some justice.

I hope you enjoyed. Comments, reblogs, and likes are sooooo appreciated.

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