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daleyeahson · 1 year

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Girl On Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x best friend reader

Summary: Eddie tries to catch a sneak peek of what it is his best friend gets up to when he’s not around. He’s thrown for a loop when he finds out that you’re more than happy to play into his little game.

Warnings: 18+ smut// minors go on and get outta here. Male masturbation, mentions of female nudity, hidden camera, cursing, use of y/n just a little bit but mainly pet names, praise and degrading kink. If I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 4.4k

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A/n: Also, this is my first time writing a fanfic, let alone something with some smut in it. Let me know what you liked & what I can work on but please be nice about it! Thank you guys for the support and I hope you enjoy this as much as I do! P.s. I made the mistake of typing this on the notes app on my phone and just copying it to here so that’s why the spacing is messed up I’m sorry. I’d retype it all but it’s almost 3am for me so I’m gonna have to pass on fixing it for now lmao my b y’all x

It was Friday and you, Robin, and Nancy had all left to go have a girls night out. It wasn’t very often that the three of you had spare time to hang out all together, so when the girls called you last minute saying to hurry and get ready, you didn’t think much of it. You rushed to get dressed after hanging up the phone, throwing clothes all across your room in hopes of finding your favorite pair of jeans and whatever t-shirt you could get your hands on. Having just enough time to put your hair up in a somewhat cute ponytail and slipping your shoes on, you made your way out the door as Nancy and Robin pulled up to your place. You were so excited to hang with the girls again that you didn’t even give a heads up to your best friend, Eddie Munson.

You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up and living across from one another, you two had always been very close. When you were younger, you both would take turns on having a sleepover at one another’s place, and you still do. Having graduated from high school, you moved out of your parents home and into your very own apartment. Eddie still lived with his uncle Wayne since he was still in school and was now in his third year as a senior. Eddie was super excited when you told him you had gotten the apartment and even joked about coming over all the time to annoy you, as if you didn’t see each other almost 24/7 as is. You had laughed it off thinking he was just joking, but he wasn’t. He came over more often than not, which didn’t bother you a bit since you genuinely enjoyed his company, and eventually you just decided to have him a key made so he could come and go as he pleased.

Which brings us to now, Eddie making his way over to your place just like he does any other day. Even though he knew he’d see you tomorrow for your sleepover, he still wanted to hang out with you and just talk about his day. He loved how you would listen to him talk about whatever it was he needed to say, whether it be about school or the newest thing that’s happening in his Hellfire campaign despite you not understanding a word of what he’s talking about. All throughout your lives you’ve always been there for him for whatever he needed. It was one of the many things he loved about you. Your love and support for him is what slowly made him fall for you and here recently he’s been having trouble keeping you off of his mind. The last few years he’s been able to bury those feelings for his best friend, but with all of this extra time you two have been spending together, he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out without doing something. He doesn’t want to scare you away or ruin your friendship by confessing his feelings. He doesn’t know if you feel the same way about him and he can’t bare the thought of not having you in his life, even if you remain only best friends. So with that, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and jerks off to you most nights. Is that really the next best thing? No, definitely not. Does he still do it? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Eddie pulls up to your apartment and steps out of his van. He makes his way to your door and reaches for his key to let himself in. It’s quiet, which he finds odd since usually you’d at least have music playing in the background or something.

“Y/N?” He says stepping into the place and closing the door behind him. “Hello? You here?”

He makes his way down the hall to your bedroom only to find it a mess and you not in it. “Huh, that’s weird.” he thinks to himself.

He didn’t expect you to be gone without letting him know first. Not that you have to tell him, but he’s so used to you doing it anyway that it puzzles him that you hadn’t said anything. Maybe you had and he just forgot. With all that’s been going on in his head lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if you did tell him you had plans and he just wasn’t paying attention. He walks further into the room and takes a look around not really knowing what to do. He must’ve just missed you because he notices the candle you always have burning was still melted and had yet to harden back again. He turns to leave and as he does something catches his eye. Right there out in the middle of your floor there it was.. a pair of black lace panties. Eddie instantly blushes when he sees it and can’t help but think about you in them, or the opposite since here they are laying here on the floor. His mind wonders to the thought of you stripping from them while changing before you left. Tossing them off to the side and standing in the same spot he was but nude from at least the waist down. Eddie would give anything, do anything to be able to see you like that. He wanted it so badly. He needed it. He just didn’t know how exactly he would get it though, until it hit him. He has a camcorder somewhere in his van that Wayne gave to him years ago. He’s never had a reason to use it, but this sure was a damn good one.

He runs to the van and opens up the back. Like a mad man, he starts going through all of the junk he has in there. After a minute or so of searching he starts to get frustrated.

“God damn, where the hell is it? Why do I have so much shit in here?” He curses at himself wishing he didn’t keep things so messy. Finally finding it, he picks it up and smirks. “Aha, gotcha.”

He hurries back inside and into your room. Instantly, he starts to look around for a spot to hide the camcorder. After searching for a bit, he notices a shelf where you had some of your old stuffed animals on display. “Perfect.” He says as he makes his way over to it.

It really is the perfect spot for such a thing. From that angle he’s able to see almost your entire room, apart from the doorway. He doesn’t mind though, thinking there’s no way you would change clothes right in the doorway anyhow, so it wasn’t a big deal if he couldn’t see that part. He doesn’t turn it on just yet. He plans on waiting until he’s here during the sleepover so that the next morning he can grab it and leave before you have a chance to notice it.

Once he has the camera hidden, he makes his way out the apartment for the last time. Getting into his van he can’t help but feel guilty. He knows he shouldn’t be doing such a thing, but the growing bulge beneath his zipper says otherwise. There’s no way you’d know about it, right? He made sure you couldn’t see the camera from any part of your room, or at least he thought he did.

He makes his way back home and as soon as he gets inside he makes a beeline to his room to take care of his situation. Just the thought of him possibly having a chance of seeing you like that for real has him making a mess all over himself. Afterwards, he cleans up and decides to go to the living room to watch tv and have a beer or two. He figures he would just try calling you in a few hours to see if you made it home alright and to see where you went.

******

It’s about 10:30 at night before you make it home. The three of you would’ve stayed out later if Robin didn’t have work early in the morning. You make your way inside and take your shoes off at the door. Heading straight for your bedroom, you start to take your hair out of the ponytail. Instantly feeling that sweet sensation of having it down after keeping it pulled up for hours on end. The kind of relief that hurts just a little bit but feels so good at the same time.

You search your drawers to find some pjs to slip into then start to make your way to the bathroom. Just as you’re about to go in there, your phone rings.

“Hello?” You say hesitantly, not expecting anyone to be calling this late.

“Hey, sweetheart, where ya been?”

Eddie. You had forgotten to tell him you were leaving this evening. You felt guilty thinking he must’ve been worried about you not knowing where you went last minute.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you but it just slipped my mind. Robin and Nancy called and told me to hurry and get ready so we could have a girls night.”

“There’s no need to be sorry, I promise.” He reassures you. “I’m glad you got to go have fun with them. I know it’s been a while since you last had a girls night. Are you just getting in?”

“Yeah..” you said with a sigh, tired from the night you just had, “I was actually about to get a shower right before you called.”

Eddie has to stop himself from audibly moaning once you said that. He can’t help but think about how if he hadn’t called, you’d be in the shower all hot and steamy. Soap running down your body and between your breasts. Eddie finds himself fumbling over his words like a fool when he tries to speak again.

“Oh- well I-uh - don’t let me keep you waiting.” He chuckles. “I’m sure you’re wanting to hurry and get that over with before you have to go clean up the mess of clothes in your room, right?”

“Oh..” you say feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw the mess you had left in a hurry. “..you saw that?” Usually, you tried to keep things somewhat clean when he came over, not that he would mind because lord knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, you just didn’t want him to see things in such a big mess like that.

“Oh- uh- yeah, I did. I came by to hang out but I must’ve just missed you.” He laughs, “Don’t worry though, I didn’t stay long so whatever you may have laying about in your room, my eyes did not see a thing. Scouts honor.”

You couldn’t help but blush at the suggestive comment he made. The idea of Eddie thinking you’d have anything like that brought a familiar feeling to your core. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve felt like this because of Eddie or something he’s said. You two were very close so it was only a matter of time before one of you caught feelings for the other. What you didn’t know what that he felt the same way about you, as you did him. Yeah, Eddie would flirt with you but he was always the charming type. He was like that with almost everybody. Sure he called you cute pet names, but you just thought it was because of how close you two were. Just something best friends did, right?

“Eddie, first of all, you weren’t a scout, and second of all, even if I did have anything like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave it out in the open for just anybody to see.”

“Just anybody?” He said with pretend jealously, “who else has a key to get into your place?”

“You’re the only one, but with that big mouth of yours I’m sure if you did find something, everyone in this town would know about it by morning.”

Eddie gasp. “You’ve wounded me, princess. Truly, you have. I’m glad you think so highly of me to believe I’d stoop so low as to share such personal information with the common folk of this kingdom.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic he can be and decided to play into his little game. “If you live to see the morning light, I shall see you then for our annual weekend festivities, but for now I must say goodbye, Sir Munson, for this ass will not wash itself, unfortunately.”

Eddie let out a loud hearty laugh at that statement. “Alright, I guess I’ll let you go take care of that. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eddie, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning…Right. He’d be coming back over early in the morning so you guys could fix breakfast together to start the day just like you always did. Eddie couldn’t help but get nervous thinking about how far into the future that was. It was 11pm now and he usually comes by around 9am. Ten hours. Anything could happen in that amount of time. What if you found the camcorder? What would you say? What would you do? Would you never speak to him again? He knew he’d never be able to sleep with those questions floating around his mind. So he laid there in bed, wide awake. Ten hours, he reminded to himself, all he had to do was wait ten hours.

******

Somehow, Eddie managed to get around 4 hours of sleep that night. He was never one to willingly get up this early, especially on the weekend but for you he’d do just about anything. He got out of bed and took a quick shower to help wake him up some more. Throwing on his usually attire, he makes his way out the door and to his van, deciding against a morning coffee knowing you’d fix some once he got there.

Eddie pulled up to your apartment once again and slowly made his way over to the door. Before he could reach for his key, you opened the door and greeted him in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Good morning, sunshine! Are you ready to get this party started?”

“Y/n, please, you know I can’t get excited about the day without coffee first.”

“I swear, sometimes it’s like I’m best friends with someone’s southern grandpa. My own little personal peepaw.” You joked but it only made him send a glare over to you. He really wasn’t a morning person at all. “I’ve already got a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“You truly are the best…I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says as he walks by you towards the kitchen to pour himself a cup.

You closed the door and followed behind him making your way to the fridge. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.. so..” you said as you opened it, “what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? We could just have cereal if you want that instead.”

“Could we have French toast again?” Eddie asks walking up towards you, coffee in hand. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the last time we had it.”

Your back was to Eddie so you hadn’t realized just how close he had gotten. As you turn to face him so you could answer his question, you accidentally bump into him causing him to spill some of his coffee down your shirt.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelled while trying to hurry and pinch your shirt so the coffee wouldn’t burn you.

“Sweetheart, I- I am so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, it’s okay” you put your other hand on his shoulder to try and stop him from panicking, “it was my fault anyway I bumped into you. Don’t worry about it, really, it’s not a big deal. And to answer your question, yes we can have French toast again, but we need to get eggs first.”

“Uh- y-yeah sure. I can run and get them real quick.”

“That’s fine with me. While you go do that, I’ll go get a shower and change out of these clothes.” You said as you headed off to the bathroom.

Suddenly Eddie didn’t feel as bad as he did before about the coffee. It was like the universe itself was helping him with his mission. This was it, his one chance. Once he heard you start the shower, he hurries into your room. Making his way over to the camcorder hidden away, he turns it on and presses the record button. “Jesus H. Christ please let this work” he mutters to himself. With that he leaves to make his way to the grocery store and tries to keep his mind busy, thinking of anything other than what’s happening back at the apartment.

Eddie comes back with the eggs and your morning routine is back on track. You fix breakfast together like always and just spend the day hanging out. You didn’t do much during these sleepovers, but you both still enjoyed the quality time together. By the end of the night, you found yourselves cuddled up on the couch watching a few movies you had on hand. You had fallen asleep on Eddie, your back to his chest. He somehow manages to get out from under you without waking you, and he carries you into your room. Laying you down on the bed, he covers you up with the blanket and makes sure you’re still in a deep sleep before he walks over to the shelf with your stuffed animals. He reaches over and turns the camcorder off and forms a mental note to himself to make sure he’s up before you are so he can somehow sneak it back out to his van. Eddie climbs into the bed to lay next to you. Sharing the bed is something you always did even as children growing up so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. While in a deep sleep, you turn over to face Eddie and snuggle right up to him. He wishes you two could stay like this forever and not just on Saturdays when you have sleepovers.

*****

The next day you both wake up closer to noon rather than super early like before. Of course Eddie didn’t wake up earlier than you, who does he think he is? He’s thankful that you get up and head to the bathroom and as soon as the door closes, Eddie jumps up to grab his camcorder, practically running to his van and back in hopes of not getting caught. When he comes back in, he jumps at the sight of you standing there across the room from him.

“Whatcha doin’ big boy?” You say standing in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of water.

“I-uh- went for a smoke.”

“With your cigarettes on the table the whole time?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. He was starting to freak out. He had to come up with something quick.

“Not that kind of smoke, princess.”

“Ah, gotcha.” You finished your drink and turned to set the glass in the sink before returning your attention back to Eddie. “So, do you wanna go get something to eat? Lunch at the diner maybe? I’m starving.”

Eddie couldn’t let you in his van knowing what was sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t have time to hide it in the back again and he knew you’d race and beat him to the van if he agrees to go out.

“Uh, no not this time. I- I actually have to leave.”

“Leave? Why?”

“Wayne needs me. Yeah, uh he’s got this thing he’s been working on and he told me the other day that he would need my help today with it so um, I should get going.”

With a confused look on your face you stare at him suspiciously. The longer you take to say something the more he feels like he’s going to have a heart attack right here in the middle of your apartment. Finally, after what feels like forever to him, you say something.

“Yeah, sure, okay.. um, well I guess I’ll see you around then? Call me tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, of course I will.”

Eddie leaves your place in a hurry and speeds back home. He can’t believe he just did that. The thrill of it all. He gets home and rushes inside. Going straight to his room and setting up the tape to play, he sits on his bed with his back to the headboard. He was already semi hard on the drive home, just thinking about what was waiting for him on that tape.

After a few minutes, he could hear your bedroom door open on the video. It took you a second to come into the frame but when you did, Eddie thought he had died and went to heaven. There you were, in nothing but a towel, water still dripping from your hair and making its way down your body. He starts to palm himself over his jeans making him hiss at the physical touch he so craved.

“Shit.. oh fuck…”

Things had just started and he was already a whimpering mess. A small wet patch forming on his jeans just from what little bit he saw of you. He couldn’t take it any longer, needing to feel more he took his jeans and boxers off. His cock springing up to his stomach as he groaned, finally feeling some relief. He spit in his hand and started stroking himself, gathering up his precum from the head as he watched you walk around your room looking for new clothes to wear.

Once you found an outfit, you laid it on the bed and began to dry yourself off. Your back was to the camcorder as you removed your towel. Your bare ass was on display for Eddie now and he tries his best not the cum at the sight of it.

“Oh god, baby, fuck you’re so beautiful.”

Every once in a while he catches a glimpse of some side boob but he grows impatient wanting to see more. Speeding up his fist, he becomes a blabbering mess as he tries to find his release.

“Shit, oh my god look at you. Just look at you. You’re so god damn beautiful. Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby. Letting me see you like this? Sticking that ass out for me? God you’re so fucking good. So, so, good.”

He stops for a second to spit some more on his cock and then resumes the same pace he had before. At this point of the video, you had dried off and discarded your towel, but was still standing there fully nude for him.

Throwing his head back, he started to beg even more. “Oh fuck, princess, I’m getting so close. So fucking close.. please turn around for me baby. Please please please, I need to see you. All of you.”

Eddie knew you couldn’t hear him, but that didn’t stop him from saying it. He looks back up at the screen and suddenly, as if you had actually heard him, you turn your head slightly over your shoulder and he swears you were looking straight into the lens of the camcorder. Before he could process what was happening, you spoke.

“Be patient, Eddie, you’re not the only one who gets to have fun with this.”

Eddie instantly froze, hand not moving but still holding his cock. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? No, there’s no way you actually said that.

You turned around and Eddie let out a moan. Seeing you fully nude, your cunt on display right in front of him. He wanted to cum so bad. He needed to cum.

You start to feel yourself up looking directly at him. He starts to jerk himself off again at the sight of it all.

“Oh, you’re so dirty. Such a filthy little slut for me. I take back what I said about you being good. You are bad, very bad, sweetheart.”

Eddie could feel himself inching closer to his orgasm with every pump of his fist, his breathing gets heavy as he chases his release.

“Fuck, oh fuck, just like that baby, keep playing with those pretty tits of yours. Shit, oh- oh my god I’m gonna cum baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. You gonna let me cum all over those tits, hm? Ohhhh shit.”

Just as he’s about to cum he hears a noise come from the video causing him to pause what he’s doing yet again. The sound of your front door opening and suddenly a voice. His voice.

“Princess? I got the eggs! I’m gonna get started on breakfast, okay?”

You call out to him, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be out in a minute!”

You made your way closer to the camcorder and looked directly into it. At this point Eddie knew for sure he had been caught and wasn’t just imagining things.

“Looks like you just cockblocked yourself.. let’s see if you’ll have the guts to finally make a move in person. If not, I guess we’ll just have to wait until next weekend, yeah?”

You turn to go put your clothes on before quickly turning back. “Oh and by the way, next time you want to sneak and record someone, make sure there isn’t a big red light coming from the camera.” And with that you winked and started getting dressed.

Eddie sat there for a second, mouth hanging open in disbelief before quickly putting a pair of sweats on and grabbing his keys. He’ll be damned if he waits a whole week before making a move now after that stunt you just pulled.

******

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car

Oh look, it's a new instalment of our favourite neighbourhood DILF. Thank you so much for your continued support of this silly little series of mine. Please continue to reblog, comment and like if you're enjoying this!

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary | Joel drives you out of the way of prying eyes for a 'date'

Word Count | 3.4k

Warnings | As usual, just dbf!Joel in general, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering (f), unprotected PiV sex (Don't do this) and talk of contraceptives.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late afternoon sun is beating through the kitchen windows as you rinse the plates in the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. You smile to yourself as you place them exactly where Joel had told you during your party, before your mind wanders to more unsavoury thoughts of him.

Your parents are sat in front of the television as you wrap up clearing up for dinner, making sure the leftovers are packaged in the fridge. You’re about to grab a cold beer for your dad to enjoy whilst he watches his shows when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Joel.

Fancy going for a drive?

Sounds ominous. This hasn’t been your plot all along has it? Sweeten me up so you can take me down a back road and murder me?

Joel.

Damn. You caught me. Guess I’ll just have to take you down a back road and fuck you instead.

Give me twenty and pick me up at the end of the road.

You pull out the beer for your dad but leave the bottle you were going to take for yourself, walking it through to the living room. You hand it to him but don’t sit down like usual.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” You announce, “Been cooped up here all day, just want to get out for a bit.”

Your mom looks up for her gossip magazine and raises an eyebrow, “You be careful now,” She warns, “And be back by eleven, okay?”

“I’m twenty-five mom, do I still need a curfew?”

“Whilst you’re living under our roof without paying rent, yes you do.”

You sigh but relent. You must admit she is right. You hadn’t wanted to stay longer in New York once you’d graduated, thinking the job market in Austin would be less competitive, but it was still a slog trying to find a job that paid well enough that after your student loan payments were gone, you still had money to enjoy life.

You grab your keys and head out of the door, driving your car a few streets over to make it look like you did indeed go for a drive on your own, parking it up in the parking lot of the church. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Lord for leaving your car in his driveway so you could go and live in sin for a few hours, before you’re jogging the few streets back over to wait on the corner of the street for Joel.

Within minutes he’s pulling up, rolling his window down with a wicked smile on his face, “How much for a few hours, sugar?” He finishes with a wink.

“I’m outta your price range, Miller.” You shoot as you round the front of his truck and slip into the passenger seat.

“Huh, weird,” He comments as he pulls away from the curb and starts driving, “Last time I checked you were free for me.”

“Well then, aren’t you lucky?”

“Very.” He says with a smile, as he free hand snakes to rest on the skin of your thigh, squeezing gently as he continues to drive to God knows where.

You smile when you realise he’s pulling the truck into the reserve a little ways out of the suburbs. You’d been here before, sometimes on your own when you needed to clear your head, Sarah had asked to go hiking one weekend when Joel and Tommy were both working, and you think you briefly remember a high school boyfriend bringing you here so he could kiss you.

The spot that he pulls into is secluded. There are trees that shade the small area that he parks in but there’s still a nice view of the lake through the windscreen of the car. The sun is starting to set, creating a mix of orange and red hues in the sky and it’s quite a romantic spot, you think to yourself.

“You knew exactly where to come,” You muse as you undo your seatbelt, “You bring all your girls out here, Joel?”

You turn to look at him and he has a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want the truth?”

“Always.”

He chuckles, “I used to bring Sarah’s mom here, when things were still good,” He points to a tree in front of you, “I actually think Sarah was conceived against that tree over there,” You gasp in shock at his admission, swatting at his bicep which has him laughing, “You asked for the truth!” He accuses.

“So, you bought me here to reminisce?” You ask, “Gonna fuck me against the tree to relive your youth?”

“You want me to fuck you against the tree?”

You shake your head, “Not really, don’t think my hips and my back are up to the job.”

“Don’t be so silly,” He chuckles, “You’re the young and agile one out of the two of us,” He’s finally undoing his own seatbelt, “But that’s good because I definitely don’t have the stamina to hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.”

You look out to the lake, you can see the slight breeze is lapping the water to the shore and it’s so hot that you think dipping your toes into the water might offer some relief, “Wanna dip your toes, Miller?” You ask, nodding your head to the water.

You don’t give him much time to respond, opening your door and stepping down from the truck as you break out into a jog down to the water’s edge. You can hear him open his door and the crunch of the gravel under his shoes as he moves to join you. By the time he catches up to you, you’ve already shed your sandals and you’re into the water up to your mid-calf. It’s not as relieving as you thought – the sun has been beating down on the water all day, so it’s like a lukewarm bath.

Joel is kicking off his boots and tucking his socks into the top of them. You watch intently as he rolls the bottoms of his jeans up past his ankles before he’s wading into meet you. You can sense he doesn’t want to get his jeans wet, so he’s not moving any further once his ankles are covered in the water, so you wade into the shore a little, scratching the itch of desire to be closer to him.

When you’re within reach, he’s taking hold of your wrist, turning your gently before his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as you listen to the sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the water lapping at the shore and the odd whistle of birdsong.

“This is nice.” You mumble, turning your head to look up at him.

“Yeah,” Joel sighs, bending down just enough to kiss you chastely on the lips, “Wish I could take you out properly, darlin’.”

You spin in his arms so you’re facing him now, a teasing grin spread out on your mouth, “Has Joel Miller brought me here on a date?” You tease.

“Maybe I did,” He smiles at you, “There’s even a cooler with beer in the truck.”

He leads you from the water, stopping to let you put your shoes back on, so you don’t hurt your feet on the gravel. He motions for you to sit in the bed of his truck once he’s laid down a blanket for you. He pops the cap off two bottles of beer, making sure he insists he’s only having one so he’s safe to drive you back later.

He settles into one of the corners, letting you sit between his thighs, leant back on his chest. It’s weird, sitting here like this, not worrying about the fact someone might see you, or hear you, but you can’t say that you hate it. After a week and a half of stolen moments and sneaky fucking, you wonder what it is the both of you are doing together, but you don’t bring it up. You want to enjoy this before launching into the inevitable question of ‘what are we?’

You finish your beer quickly, Joel opting to savour the singular drink he’s allowing himself, but he tells you to help yourself to another from the cooler, which you do, “This all seems very wholesome Miller.” You comment.

You feel him shrug behind you, “Just wanted ya to know I’m not just here to get my dick wet,” You hear him take a sip, “I mean, I am because it’s fantastic, but I don’t wantcha feeling like I’m usin’ ya.”

You want to add something meaningful to the conversation but you’re treading on dangerous ground. In all your fantasies about this situation it was never meant to be something serious. He was going to fuck you once, tell you it was a mistake and that would have been it. Nowhere had you imagined being led against him in the back of his truck like this.

The sun is setting fast now, and you can sense that the darkness won’t be far behind, then you’ll need to go home. You put your half-finished beer back in the cooler, moving around so you’re still between Joel’s thighs, but just kneeling to face him now, “Kinda want you to get your dick wet now though.”

“That so?” He raises an eyebrow and finishes the rest of his beer in a big mouthful, “You’ll need to come here then, won’t you?”

His hands are dragging down your sides to reach your hips before he’s shifting his legs, so they’re not as spread, settling you onto his lap in a similar way to how you’d been the first time you’d done this. You settle yourself down on his lap and let your lips crash to his.

He’s squeezing his hands on your hips, gently moving you in his lap so you’re grinding against him, just enough that there’s friction for both of you, whilst he opens his mouth when you rub your tongue along his plush bottom lip. You let your tongue mix languidly with his own as you continue to grind your hips into his, there’s no need to rush, not when you don’t have to worry about your parents walking in on anything, so you’re going to savour every second of this.

“Look so good on my lap, pretty girl,” He praises when you pull away, just a touch, from his lips to get some air, “Feel what you do t’me?” He’s bucking his hips up into yours where you can feel his growing erection in his jeans.

You move forward to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue. You take his bottom lip between your teeth at one point and nibble, which causes a hiss from his lips of mixed pleasure and pain. His hands have dropped from your hips and their now rooted under your skirt, gripping fingers into the meat of your ass so hard that you think you might bruise there tomorrow.

You let a moan fall from your lips when he bucks his hips into you again, feeling the bulge in the front of his jeans rub at the front of your underwear, but it’s not enough anymore.

“Joel-” You gasp, “Need- more.”

“What do you need?” He whispers, “Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Want you to make me come.”

He doesn’t say anything in reply, just moves his hands to hook into the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips enough so he can pull them down, but he doesn’t seem concerned about taking them all the way off just yet.

“I’ve got a feeling of déjà vu.” You breath out, referencing the fact that you’re in exactly the same position as you were that first time, even down to the way his thumb is teasing along the seam of your pussy right now.

“At least this time there’s no risk of your dad waking up and shooting me.”

“I kinda- ohhhhh,” You trail off as his thumb dips between your folds to gather your slick before achingly bringing his finger up to touch your clit, “I kinda like the risk.”

“Naughty girl,” He’s muttering, but he doesn’t seem to care all that much because he’s thumbing tight circles on your clit that have your hands gripping at his shoulders and your head thrown back in pleasure, “Might not be your daddy that catches us tonight, but still, plenty of opportunity for someone else to walk by and see me with my fingers in your pussy.”

He's keeping his thumb on your clit, but you feel one of his thick fingers slip inside of you and curl in the way he’s learned makes you come undone with minimal work. You listen as he chuckles when you start grinding your hips down into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, “Always so tight for me sweetheart.” He praises.

You’re letting out little gasps and moans as he works another finger inside of you, thumb never leaving your clit where it is rubbing tight and purposeful circles. You’re sure if anyone were to stumble upon you it would be hell of a sight. You with your head thrown back, grinding down onto Joel’s hand to meet the upward thrusts of his fingers, his name falling from your lips a mile and minute and Joel with his head buried in the crook of your neck, licking hot stripes with his tongue along your skin.

“Don’t stop,” You gasp out, “God I’m so fucking close Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’.” He mumbles against your hot skin.

Within seconds you’re clenching around his fingers and crying out into the canopy of the trees as he pushed you over the edge into oblivion. When you hear the shout of his name echo around you, you bite down on your bottom lip to stop any other sounds alerting someone to your presence as he works you through the aftershocks.

He’s pulling his fingers from you, looking straight into your eyes when he brings the fingers that were inside you to your lips, “Go on, baby, clean yourself off my fingers.”

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He presses the two fingers onto the flat of your tongue and you’re sucking them into your mouth, rubbing your tongue over them to clean your slick off him. It’s depraved but the look in his eyes makes it worth it, he’s hungry for you, looks like he’s about to devour you in a second.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own tongue. You can hear him groan when he tastes you on your own mouth, “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl.”

You don’t have the brain power to respond – instead, your hands grip his belt and start to undo it, pulling it through the beltloops. Then, he’s the one undoing the button on his jeans, tapping your hip for you to sit up so he can shuck them far enough down his thighs, along with his underwear, so that his cock is finally free.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feast your eyes upon it. Sure, you’d felt it inside of you not two days ago, you knew he was big, but seeing it in front of you was another story. What you wouldn’t give to wrap your lips around it right now. You would, but you were desperate for him to fill you.

You reach a hand out as you’re settling yourself back on his hips again, guiding his cock to rest at your tight heat, “Go on sweetheart,” He encourages, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “Sit yourself down on my cock for me.”

You do exactly as you’re told. Joel slides into your slick pussy easily, despite the stretch, and its mere seconds before you still yourself for a moment when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his quickened breathing below you – it’s good to know he feels the same as you do when he’s enveloped in your warmth like this. You start to move your hips, grinding into his own and the friction it creates is delicious. You can feel him nudging the sweet spot inside you as he moves.

You look down at him, his eyes glazed over and his head leaning against the truck. He pushes himself forward as his hands lift your shirt up and over your head. You make no complaints when his fingers pull the straps of your bra down your shoulders and he pulls the cups down, freeing your tits in front of his face.

“Knew you’d have such pretty tits, baby.” He’s mumbling before he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the hardened bud whilst his other hand is working on your other.

Everything that he’s doing is spurring you on. You feel him bring his knees up to rest against the back of your thighs, which gives you more leverage to start bouncing on his cock in earnest. His mouth doesn’t leave your chest except to switch from one nipple to the other, rolling each between his teeth, using the flat of his tongue to soothe each when he’s done.

You’re half aware of the fact that your combined ministrations are causing the truck to shake beneath you – a squeak added to the sounds of you both gasping each other’s names, but if Joel doesn’t seem to care, then neither do you.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He’s breathing out as his mouth finally pulls from your chest, one of his arms is wrapping itself around your waist, pressing you into his chest, the other rests on the back of your head, bringing your face to his neck where you start peppering kisses as he takes control, “So fuckin’ tight, and those pretty sounds you make in my ear, I’m close.”

He’s fucking up into you now. You’re so wet you can hear him sliding in and out of your pussy, the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every upward thrust just another added stimulant in what proves to be an orgasm that catches you by surprise.

As you’re moaning Joel’s name into his neck and clenching around him, you’re vaguely aware that he’s moaning your own, pulling your body off his cock as he spurts thick ropes of cum across your inner thighs. You stay still, listening to the sounds of your combined heaving breaths before he’s whispering into your ear, “That was fuckin’ close baby, didn’t wanna pull out.”

You’re leaning back a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your sex-scrambled brain talks before you think, “Maybe I should go and get the pill?”

His hands are cupping your face now, searching your eyes for evidence that you’re telling him the truth with your words, “You want that?” He asks, “Want me to be able to fill your sweet little pussy full of my cum?”

You’re climbing off him now and shimmying down the truck bed, picking up the edge of the blanket to wipe yourself clean, “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” You admit with a shrug as he’s pulling his jeans back up around his waist, “I think I’d like it though.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna pressure you sweetheart,” He says, following your lead in getting down from the truck bed, setting the blanket and cooler back in the truck, “But if you don’t wanna do that, might be an idea for me to start wearin’ something whilst we fuck, I’m sure as hell not wantin’ another kid right now, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

You can’t deny that he’s right, you’ll have to think about it when you don’t have a million and one hormones running through your body telling you to scream that you just want him to bend you back over and fill you up regardless, “I’ll have a think.” You promise as he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss you.

What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turns into five minutes of you pressed up against the truck door, making out like horny teenagers who don’t want to say goodbye to each other. You suppose that really is what you are, just horny adults instead.

“Come on,” He says, breathless, when he pulls from your kiss, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller Taglist - @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33 @casa-boiardi

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

Note

do have any rosie headcanons? especially erm, ahem, *spicy* ones? (asking for a friend, plz/thanks)

Oh Nonnie, don’t I just! come on into the pillow fort, (don’t forget to bring your friend) and be careful not to crush Meatball’s paws.

Massive amounts of gratitude to my darling friends who contributed so very much found herein, some aspects word for word, and who are always there in my hour of need: @suraemoon @faegoddessog

Well hello hello. Is this a requested description or a love letter? Legit don’t know but here goes…

Cock-versations || Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal edition 🥇

nsfw (AF!!) below the cut

General Remarks: let’s just start this off with some entirely accurate blanket statement like- “this is the prettiest cock in the 100th.” Yeah we could get in the weeds and start measuring everyone up to see if The Nazi Prosecutor and Legendary Pilot of 52 missions and the 100th’s beloved Step Dad(dy) Who Stepped tf Up is indeed the biggest, but like, why? Because what we know without that experiment (although Lordy, what an experiment that would be??) is that this man knows how to use what he’s got. And what he’s got is substantial. Must I go on to euphemize the whole “piloting a school bus like a fighter jet?”

Sordid Details: Rosie stands for something else besides shortening that name, ok? This color is like…like Monet specifically invented it for the perfect shade to paint his waterlily and for the gorgeous and graduated pink hues of Major Rosenthal’s cock leading to the impossibly wide mushroom head that’s situated on a very plush pink base that’s almost as wide as it is long and so is in danger of appearing mildly shorter at times? but that’s mostly an optical illusion due to the girth. Yes we said Gale is packing the perfect dildo cock but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and so at a certain point one must ask: for some of us, doesn’t a little individuality almost add to the beauty than subtract? Such is the case with the Rosie Cock, it’s just special enough you could pick it outta a lineup but it also doesn’t look so unforgettable as to be mistaken for an elephant trunk or a betting pencil.

For your endearing consideration: beyond being the prettiest color and the most deliciously sized appendage, this man also takes care in his appearance, those short and curlies are kept nice and trimmed for your ultimate sucking pleasure and the pubes are a little surprise in themselves as, rather like his mustache, they have dark roots but there’s a definite glint of ginger to them when you get them out into the bright sunlight or when the sun is really pouring into the window. So, your assignment is to 1. outdoor sex, romantic picnic or lounge chair by the pool it don’t matter just no fox hunting. 2. Let this man throw the covers off after a night of passion and then you yourself wake up early enough to survey the landscape of him, as it were, i swear the prettiness will take your breath away

A Note on the Wielder of the Weapon: back to the whole piloting a school bus like a fighter jet… He’s packing but he’s not a pummeling packing sorta guy like dear Egan who will bully his receivers into orgasms, or Cleven who will soberly and expertly dish them out like they are communion wafers to be reverently accepted. Rosie, no, see, he’s both generous and also -fun. He’s a dork, he laughs when he shouldn’t and trains in his underwear -but one of those times to laugh is sex!! a little levity never hurt sexy times and some of the most truly romantic sex is fond and giggly while also full of expertise, passion and hours and hours of this man wooing the fuck outta you like you’re not already signed sealed and delivered as his. This is the sorta man to be able to line up y’all’s eyes, noses and lips all while undulating like a damn dolphin at the hips.

Finesse, my friends, finesse.

Twinkle Toes aspect: such a fucking tease and a dork at times, as we’ve mentioned. Also between his crazy eyes and his lawyerly self assurance, this man has terrifying capabilities to turn his virtues into villainous weapons. See: gaslighting. He can make you feel nuts for thinking he’s teasing the fuck outta you when he’s just been sitting here with colleagues. (Honestly? This could get intense but that’s for a darker fic at another time.) But to keep it chill and more in character, let us just say you’ve gotta be ready to be wooed for hours on end, and that’s not for the faint of heart. Neither is being discreetly fingered in front of his prestigious associates at dinner or in the elevator. Because he does that, so subtle and yet so intense. He’s 100% a “feral for no panties under that skirt” kinda guy, all the house chores he so sexily helps out with also means he can hide your underwear like a pro just in time for an outing.

In short: he’s all about sex all the time, but not in the rabbit-like aspect of some of his fellows, doing dishes is a natural form of foreplay for this man, he understands the inner workings of arousal, it’s on his mind all the time but it doesn’t mean he’s doing it all the time, and in fact, this is one of the few men who could put it in you for a few strokes, bent over the hood of his Chrysler after dancing and drinks, only as a means to tease you and then put himself back in his trousers and drive home while you get so desperate you actually start calling him Daddy. -not in the modern weird way (no shade but it stands) but in that 40’s sorta way, (which has layers of its own).

If ya know, then ya know.

One more addendum: once he’s inside you, this man’s face displays every wondrous, anticipatory, contemplative and blissful emotion that is part of the orgasmic journey, he also cums an extraordinary amount, you’ll think he’s done at last and NOPE, here comes another rope of the thick stuff. Which means that after the frantic over-the-edge-first-wave-of-cumming bit, he’ll open his eyes again and smile down at you as he works the rest out in a more measured but very lethal way, if you’ve not cum yet or are about to again, this is when he gets you and it’s made so much worse/better because of all the hot and slick stuff he just deposited 🥰 also…humming

#masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #mota #mota asks #cock-versations #naughty sleepover #nate mann

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neverwanttofallasleep · 7 months

Text

A Need That Goes Unspoken - Chapter 1

READ THE PROLOGUE FIRST!

Word count: 5,071

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

thank you again @writingcold x

You hear a knock at your bedroom door as you angrily shove the last of your toiletries into your suitcase.

“Yeah?” You call.

“Can I come in?” Alex calls back.

“Yep!”

He opens the door, humming as he scans his eyes over the mess.

“You almost ready? We’re leaving in 15 minutes.”

You huff. “Yes, Alex. I’m almost ready. Do I really have to come?”

He chuckles and sits down on the end of your bed. “Yes, you really have to. This is the last chance we’re gonna get to hang out for a while. Who knows how long I’ll be gone. I’m gonna miss you.”

You sigh. “I know, I’m gonna miss you too. This summer would've been great if you hadn’t volunteered to be a fucking roadie for the Kiszkas and you could've just stayed here with me.”

“The band has a name, you know. And Danny’s not a Kiszka.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. You could just, like, not go.”

“This is such a cool opportunity for me, Y/N. You know I can’t say no.”

You sit down. “I know. Can’t we tell the Kiszkas not to come? So you and I can just hang out? I wouldn’t even mind if Danny came along too.”

He laughs. “It’s their cabin.”

You groan. “I know! But without Ronnie coming it’ll just be me and five stinky boys for ten days. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Alex hums. “Well, considering that we’re all adults now, I don’t think we’ll be that stinky. Besides, I think it’s only one of those five stinky boys that you actually have a problem with.”

“Yes, and he’s insufferable. It’s going to be a fucking nightmare.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re sharing a room. Plus, Eloise and Phoebe are coming up tomorrow. So you’ll have a nice-smelling buffer.”

Jake and Danny’s girlfriends. That does kind of make you feel better. Phoebe is a year younger than you and Danny, so her parents must really trust her to be letting her stay at a cabin with her 18-year-old boyfriend for nine days. Eloise is a year older than you, but the three of you have gotten along well when you’ve hung out. You’re kind of looking forward to getting to know them better.

“What about you? Not bringing Shaun?” You quip.

Alex chuckles. “No, that’s just casual. He’s not the most intellectual company.”

You smirk. Since he’s been home for the summer, Alex has been hooking up with Shaun, the meathead football player in the year above you, who’d shocked everyone by coming out during his senior year. To his credit, he did a lot for breaking the stereotypes for gay kids at your school. Unluckily for Alex, he’d already graduated and didn’t come out as bi until he was in his first year of music school. The same music school that he’s just deferred from to go on the road with Greta Van Fleet. You scowl to yourself.

“Penny for your thoughts, sis?”

“I can’t believe you’re dropping out.”

“I’m not dropping out.” He frowns. “I’ll just start my third year when I get back. There’s no rush.”

You roll your eyes. “You say that as if you’ll come back. Look at Jake and Josh. You’ll get addicted to the lifestyle, and I’m never gonna see you again.” You whine.

He shrugs. “College is already over an hour away, it’s not like we see each other much anyway. If I stay on tour, I guess you’ll just have to come with me. Maybe you’ll meet a nice boy on the road.”

You roll your eyes. “If it didn’t mean I’d have to interact with Sam, I would in a heartbeat.”

“Alright,” he chuckles. “Get your shit together, and let’s get the fuck outta here.”

You wheel your suitcase down the drive, and Alex takes it from you and stacks it in the back of his truck, tetris-ing it in with the bags of groceries, the spare cooler full of alcohol (provided by Jake and his ID), the beach chairs, and his own bags. You settle in the front seat, plugging in your phone. If Alex was dragging you along, you were choosing the music.

It was only a two-hour drive, pretty much directly north through Saginaw, to the Kiszka family cabin. It was a place you’d spent many summers in your childhood, but it didn't quite hold the same excitement it used to. You’ve opted out of going the last three years, instead choosing to spend the time off school with your friends. This summer, however, Alice and Kyle are off on their big Europe adventure. Chloe and her boyfriend are headed to Miami to sunbake for 3 weeks, and Bella is spending her whole summer working at the hair salon. She’s enrolled in beauty school in Detroit starting in September, and is saving for her own apartment.

When Alex had asked you to come with him and the boys to Oscoda, you’d flat-out refused, telling him you’d rather spend the summer in Frankenmuth than spend any more time with Sam than absolutely necessary. With some sweet talking from him, Danny, and Josh, though, and some bribery from Jake in the form of a case of white wine, you’d eventually caved. You’d miss your brother and your friends when they went back on the road. Hell, you already did miss them.

Danny and the Kiszkas had been playing shows on weekends and touring during semester breaks since about halfway through your Senior year. You knew from his blatant absences that Sam had missed his fair share of school. Danny too. They even missed prom. Not like you really cared, although you wouldn’t have minded a dance with Danny before you graduated and potentially never saw each other again. Well, that was probably an exaggeration. But if not seeing Danny meant not having to see Sam, you might just take it.

You know the band is good. You’d seen them play some shows here and there, and most nights you can hear them practicing in their garage through your bedroom window. You’re truly happy for their success. You’re just resentful of the fact that Sam has tainted the experience for you.

The tour is scheduled to resume in the first week of July, which is roughly 2 weeks away. You know you’re going to miss Alex a lot, but despite your ribbing, you really are excited for him. And he was right, it wasn’t like you could see him all the time when he was living in Ann Arbor, anyway. If you had to guess, you were just kind of pissed that he’d be spending all that time with Sam. You knew that was unreasonable. Sam and Alex didn’t have any beef. Part of you just wanted Alex to hate Sam because you did. You’d never ask that of him, though.

Alex must know how salty you are about how coming on this trip, because he really does let you choose the music for the entire drive. You’re not convoying or anything, the others left early this morning. Alex had let you sleep in and waited until late morning to drive up, knowing you’d put up even more of a fight if he’d made you set an alarm. You stop in Standish to get some food and swap out drivers. You’d bargained with Alex that you’d drive the second half if he bought you McDonald’s for lunch, and he’d agreed.

When you finally make it up to the cabin, you can’t help but grin at how pretty it is, and how nice it feels to be back. It’s tucked away on a back street just outside of the township. The road is relatively flat, with forest on both sides, and a small lake at the back of the lot. It’s about two and a half miles from the main beach and the nearest supermarket. It’s walkable, but you wouldn’t want to in this heat.

The boys must’ve heard the roar of Alex’s truck, ‘cause Josh and Danny appear on the porch as Alex gets out.

“Don’t just stand there, assholes! Come and help me!” He calls to them as he opens the truck bed.

You see Josh smirk and Danny chuckle as they head down the steps and tread the gravel driveway toward you. As you go to step out of the truck, Danny extends a hand to you to help you down.

“Glad you made it!” He grins widely.

You’ll never understand why Danny is still so kind to you, in spite of Sam. It makes the whole thing even more frustrating. If Danny can act like a grown-up, why can’t Sam? Ever since Chloe’s party in ninth grade, he’s been a total dick to you.

It started out as just ignoring you, which was bad enough, considering you’d been such close friends only days before the party. But then it morphed into something uglier. Seething looks, snide remarks, and eventually flat-out insults. It hurt, but you gave it right back to him. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand what you’d done to deserve it. Overnight, Sam just changed into a totally different person. He became cruel.

Only to you, though, which pissed you off even more. He acted totally normal around Alex, Danny, and his brothers, if only a little more crabby than he used to be. You imagined that was only when you were around to witness it, though. He was probably his normal, bubbly self, when he wasn’t looking out for you over his shoulder every five seconds.

You give Danny a big hug and head to grab your bags. You all follow Josh into the house, where he points at the bedrooms, indicating who’s sleeping where.

“Danny and Phoebe are in the guest room, and Jake and Ellie are in Mom and Dad’s room. Y/N, you’re in the sunroom. Alex, you’re in with me and Sammy. We’ve got the bunk room.” He giggles.

The infamous bunk room. It’s exactly what it sounds like. A large room, probably once a den, now with all three walls lined with bunk beds. It sleeps 6, and it’s where all the kids used to sleep when you came here in your childhood. When you were really little, you were always afraid of falling out of the top bunk, so Sam would bravely offer to take the top of your set so you could sleep on the bottom. Once the lights were off and he was no longer concerned about impressing his older brothers, he’d get scared, too. He’d crawl down the ladder in the middle of the night, and your parents would find you cuddled together in the bottom bunk in the morning. You smile at the memory, before remembering yourself and scowling. What an asshole. He’d never be so chivalrous now.

You’re excited to sleep in the sunroom, though. It’s a sort of makeshift bedroom, and it was where you and Ronnie had graduated to when you’d decided you no longer wanted to share with the boys. It’s a small room off the main living area, private enough, with a double pull-out couch against the far wall. The best part, though, is the floor-to-ceiling windows on the west wall, where the sun hits perfectly in the late afternoon. You’d used to spend hours sitting in there as a teenager, reading your books and enjoying the golden sunlight.

“Where are the others?” Alex asks Danny and Josh.

“They went to the store to get stuff for dinner. Barbecue tonight.” Danny grins.

Alex fist pumps. “Hell yeah!”

You smile and shake your head, wheeling your bag over to your bedroom.

You settle in, leaving your suitcase open and resting it on top of the chest in the corner of the room. Josh has kindly already unfolded the couch for you and made up the bed. They’re really working hard to get on your good side, and you snicker to yourself. As they should be.

You set your phone charger, water bottle, and book on the small coffee table acting as a nightstand, and take your toiletries to the bathroom, which is over the other side of the house, next to the bunk room. Your only qualm about sleeping downstairs is the shared bathroom. There’s another on the second floor, between the two main bedrooms, which the couples would be using.

You find an open spot on the shelf and unfold your toiletry bag, hanging up the clean, pink towel you’d taken from the linen cupboard on your way through. When you glance around, you see the boys things already scattered around. They’d managed to make a mess of the small bathroom within a matter of hours. You sigh.

When you’re unpacked to your liking, you wander out into the kitchen, to find Josh making cocktails, Danny and Alex perched on the barstools at the kitchen bench.

“Your wine’s in the fridge, lovely, but it won’t be cold yet. You want a salty dog?” He gestures to the open bottles of tequila and grapefruit juice in front of him.

“I think it’s technically a Paloma, if you’re not using gin.” Danny corrects.

Josh shakes his head. “No, a Paloma has to have seltzer in it. This is a tequila salty dog. And it’s a greyhound if you use vodka, which is disgusting.”

Danny chuckles. “Sorry, sir. I’ll check my facts next time.”

You smile at their banter and nod. “Sure. Thanks, Josh.”

Alex hums. “Don’t go too hard, too early, sis.”

You scoff. “What authority do you have? You’re still underage, too.”

“Sure, but I’m still your big brother. Just take it easy.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

When Josh is done, you all take your drinks and head out to the back garden, seating yourselves around the rickety outdoor dining set. Danny produces a pack of playing cards from his pocket, and you all begin a game of old maid.

You’re down to just two cards left, and just as Alex presents you his hand, you hear the squeak of the sliding back door opening. You all look up to see Jake, sunglasses perched on top of his bucket hat, an open bottle of Jack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other, closing the door behind him.

“Gang’s all here!” He announces.

“Hey, Jake!” You and Alex call up to him.

“Did you get the olives?” Josh asks his twin, in lieu of a greeting.

Jake grumbles, making his way down the steps. “No, I’ve vetoed the olives. No one likes them except you.”

You grin at Josh. “I like olives.”

“Jake.” Josh groans. “Y/N likes them too. Now you’ve ruined my charcuterie board.”

Jake huffs and heads over to the barbecue to dump the bag, before joining you all at the table. “Whatever. We can get them tomorrow.”

Josh gives you a wink, and lets it lie.

You hear the squeak of the door again, and this time you’re reluctant to look up. You do, anyway. You want to see his smug face drop when he sees you. If there’s anything that’ll make this trip a bit more bearable, it’s knowing that your presence will piss him off just as much as his does you.

Sam emerges from the house carrying two beers, wearing a pair of the shortest red shorts you’ve ever seen on a man, Birkenstocks, and a soft denim shirt. It’s unbuttoned to his navel, showing off a collection of necklaces dangling low on his chest. His hair is so long now, spilling in thick waves over his shoulders. His baby face is still exactly how you remember it, sans the braces, but as his eyes land on you, you see a sour look cross his features. You scowl, refusing to break eye contact. What a stupid fucking outfit. Only Sam Kiszka would choose to dress like a pretentious ‘60s rockstar for a family holiday. Asshole.

“Hey, Sam!” Alex calls out.

Sam immediately schools his expression to look at your brother, greeting him with a smile. “What’s up, Alex? Glad you could make it.”

He doesn’t address you with anything by way of a greeting, and you don’t, either.

He descends the stairs and crosses the garden to take the open seat next to Danny, handing a beer across the table to Jake.

“What are we playing?” Jake asks the group, as he cracks his bottle open.

“Old maid.” You reply, looking only at Jake. “Should we start a new round so you can join?”

Sam scoffs. “Old maid is boring, there’s no strategy. Let’s play rummy.”

“Rummy isn’t a strategy game, either. It’s all just luck of the draw.” You retort.

“Not the way I play it. Feel free to sit out, if you want. I’d prefer it, actually.” He drawls.

You roll your eyes as the rest of the group hums and nods in agreement at the suggestion of the new game, handing Sam their cards to reshuffle the deck. Sam reaches over and snatches your hand away with a smug grin. Alex pats your knee under the table. This was going to be a very unpleasant trip.

After a few rounds of rummy, which satisfied you in the knowledge that Sam had not won any, you all head inside to begin preparations for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, shining just barely through the trees at the back of the house. Peak reading hours, if you could sneak away for a while once you’d made the salad.

You’re stationed at the kitchen bench with Josh and Alex, the other boys outside firing up the grill.

“Tomorrow’s board will be much better, once we get the olives. I won’t be letting those imbeciles go on another shopping trip unsupervised.” Josh hums, as he arranges various cheeses on a large platter.

You giggle. “I’ll come with you. You and I would have a grand old time at the store together.”

“You’d break the budget in one day.” Alex chides.

“But wouldn’t we be living in luxury for that one day, Alex?” Josh replies dreamily. “Think of all the delicious things we could have. Like some good preserves to pair with this cheese.” He gestures to a hunk of blue cheese on the plate.

You nod and hum in agreement as you slice up the cucumber. “I’d kill for some pickles. Like those really big, spicy ones in the fancy jar.”

Alex and Josh both laugh. “Sorry, my love. Can’t agree with you on that one.” Josh chuckles.

Sam and Danny appear at the back door. Sam slides open the screen and silently heads to the refrigerator.

“What’s cookin’ in here, good lookin’…s?” Danny hums, pinching a piece of cucumber from your cutting board and popping it in his mouth.

“Just making a mental list for mine and Y/N’s dream grocery trip.” Josh’s face lights up with realization. “Sam loves pickles too! Don’t you, Sammy?”

“Sure,” Sam says, with very little enthusiasm.

“There you go. I can justify them now, Y/N. You have my support.”

You stay silent, not wanting to engage in any further conversation with or about Sam.

You continue chopping the vegetables, letting the conversation flow around you. Alex follows Sam back outside with the tray of burgers, but Danny hangs back.

“Can I give you a hand, Y/N?” He nudges your shoulder with his own.

You hum. “I was gonna put out some fruit as well, do you wanna grab the grapes out of the fridge and start washing?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

The three of you work in silence for a few minutes, before Josh can’t stand it anymore.

“Time for some music.” He declares, and disappears upstairs to retrieve Jake’s bluetooth speaker.

When it’s just the two of you, Danny clears his throat, and you look up from the lettuce you’ve been tossing to see him looking at you.

“What?”

“No improvement, I gather?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” You mutter, going back to your work. You and Danny have never openly talked about your relationship with Sam, to be fair. You’ve skated around it for years. It just goes unspoken that the two of you do not, and will not, ever get along.

“Have you thought about just trying to have a conversation with him?”

You stare at him pointedly. “About what, Danny? The weather?”

He chuckles. “I don’t know. Just something to break the ice.”

“Our relationship has spent the last three years on ice. I don’t think anything will break it now.”

“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t have to be this way, you know. You’re both choosing this. You could choose not to. One of you just needs to make the first move.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

Danny sighs. “Yeah. But he’s stubborn. I was hoping some forced proximity might help you two work things out.”

You huff. “What is it we need to work out, exactly? You seem awfully informed. Would you like to share with the class what the fuck I ever did to make Sam hate me so much?”

Danny gives you a sad smile. “I’m hoping he’ll tell you himself.”

You feel your stomach bubble with guilt at that. So there is something to know. Something you perhaps should feel bad about, although you have no idea what.

Your conversation with Danny continues to haunt you throughout dinner, and you barely say a word to anyone. Josh gives you a few questioning looks, but you just return them with a smile. You feel even worse than you did before. You’re on a holiday that you didn’t even want to come on to begin with, now weighed down with the knowledge that you might actually be the intruder. Had you said something to make Sam dislike you? You’d turned over all the possibilities in your head throughout the years, and ultimately come to the conclusion that he was the one in the wrong, not you.

Now, however, Danny had you questioning that. Had you said something hurtful to Sam, or about him, behind his back? You couldn’t remember it, and it seemed out of character for you, but you were wracking your brain for some kind of reasonable explanation.

Your worst fear comes to the forefront of your mind.

That night of Chloe’s 15th birthday, you’d ended up on the back porch, alone, sheltering from the rain, trying to wrap your mind around your kiss with Elliot. You’d heard the back door open, and turned to see Jake, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Oh, sorry, Y/N.” He’d said to you. “Was just trying to find a spot to smoke that I wouldn’t get rained on.”

You’d smiled at him. “No problem. I was about to go back inside anyway.”

He’d nodded, pulling a lighter from his shirt pocket. “Don’t go in on my account. How’ve you been, anyway? Haven’t seen you ‘round our place much.”

“Yeah, school’s gotten busy and stuff. I usually don’t see Sam except for Sunday dinners and Thursday mornings.”

“Thursday mornings?” He’d asked you, through a puff of smoke.

“Yeah, we walk to orchestra together.”

He’d hummed. “Oh, yep. Of course.”

You were quiet for a minute, watching him smoke.

“So, what’s going on with you and Elliot, then? He looked pretty happy when you landed that bottle on him.” He smirked.

You sighed. “Dunno, to be honest. I thought I wanted to kiss him, he’s cute and stuff, you know. But when it happened, it was just kinda… dunno. Not what I expected.”

Jake smiled. “No spark?”

You’d nodded. “I hadn’t had, like, a proper kiss, before. So I think maybe I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Experience is overrated. When it’s the right person, it’s good no matter what. Even if you’re both terrible kissers.” He chuckled.

“How do you know it’s the right person? Like, before you’ve kissed them? How do you know who to choose?”

Jake had hummed, moving to lean against the railing. He was shoulder to shoulder with you, looking out over the dark backyard.

“It’ll be someone you find yourself wanting to be around, all the time. Like, not just to kiss them. You’ll wanna spend time with them, just hanging out, sharing your interests, y’know. You’ll think about them 24/7, and you’ll hope they’re thinking about you, too.”

You’d hummed, turning to look at him. “Do you feel that way about someone?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, actually. Just trying to get up the guts to ask her out.”

“That’s great, Jake. Who is it? Am I allowed to know?” You’d nudged his shoulder with your own. You appreciated that the twins always treated you like an equal. At almost 18, Jake never talked to you like you were a 15-year-old. He was the same way with Sammy. It made you feel like a grown-up.

He’d blushed. “Eloise Fischer. She’s a sophomore. I think she’s in the same class as Elliot, actually.”

“Oh, yeah! I know her. She’s super pretty.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You should just ask her, Jake. No one could ever say no to you. Plus, she’s here tonight. I think I saw her talking with Chloe earlier.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You stood in silence for a few minutes, and you’d rested your head on Jake’s shoulder. He really was like another big brother. Between him, Ronnie, Josh, and Alex, you felt lucky that you always had someone to turn to for advice.

Jake had butted his cigarette out on the railing, tossing it into the backyard.

“Do you feel that way about anyone, Y/N?” He’d asked you, as he turned to lean his back against the railing.

You flushed red. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Elliot?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“Don’t tell me it’s Josh. You know he doesn’t swing that way.”

You’d giggled and shaken your head again. He looked at you for a moment.

“Sam?”

You gave a small nod, and he’d grinned and wrapped his arm around you. “I think you guys would be good together. When he figures out what to do with a girl, I’m sure it’s you he’ll be after.”

“Thanks, Jake.” You’d smiled, but you didn’t really believe him. If he was anything like his brothers, Sam would be too cool for you.

You’d never admitted it to anyone else, and you’d gone home that night wishing you hadn’t told Jake, worried that he might let something slip to Sam. As the weeks went on and you and Sam hadn’t fixed things between you, you’d worry over it every so often, only to remind yourself that Jake would never do that to you. You trusted him, and you truly believed he’d never betray that trust. It only made you feel worse when Sam was so cold to you, now that you’d admitted your feelings for him to yourself.

As you get ready for bed in the sunroom, that fear comes rushing back to you. What if Jake had told him? They were brothers, after all. What if he’d told him that very night, and Sam had been upset about it? What if it had grossed him out, and he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore?

You pad out into the kitchen in your pajamas to get a glass of water. The boys are still outside, drinking and trying to get a bonfire going, but you’d retired early. You were tired from driving, you’d told Alex. You’d stay up tomorrow night.

Truthfully, you just needed to get away from Sam and his unpleasantness. You’d tried to kill him with kindness during dinner, heeding Danny’s advice. Your overt politeness hadn’t gotten you anywhere, though, and he’d still given you a salty look when you sat down, and loudly questioned your decision to bring our fruit during dinner as if it was a horrendous, alien concept. You’d gone red and resumed your silence immediately.

You’d thanked him as he cleared your plate, and he looked at you as if you’d grown a second head. He sneered at you when you stood behind him at the fridge, offering to take some of the drinks from him to free up his hands, and snapped at you that he was more than capable of carrying a couple of beers. You’d tried. He was a lost cause.

You take your water to the bathroom to brush your teeth. As you look at yourself in the mirror, you sigh. You tie up the drawstring of your sleep shorts and pull at the hem of your old t-shirt, smoothing it over your stomach. If Sam had known you had a crush on him, you honestly wouldn’t blame him for being disgusted by the idea. You’ve never thought you were ugly, but you certainly are plain. Never able to compare to girls like Chloe or Bella. Girls that radiate confidence and ooze sex appeal. Even girls like Alice and Eloise, who are soft and pretty, never need makeup, and would look good wearing a paper bag.

You run a brush through your hair, pulling it back into a bun, and hunt in your toiletry bag for your toothbrush. You turn abruptly when you hear the door open, and are just as surprised to see Sam standing there as he seems to be to see you.

“Oh, sorry. Thought you were asleep.” He mutters, shutting the door quickly and walking away.

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he’d blushed. Probably uncomfortable about seeing you in your pajamas. He hadn’t had that privilege since your last sleepover, when he was 14 and you were 15, and you certainly hadn’t come into your curves or breasts yet.

You’re a little shocked that he apologised instead of finding a reason to be shitty at you for being in the bathroom, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. Maybe if he stays drunk for the next ten days, you might both have a better time.

You brush your teeth and take your water back to your bedroom, shutting yourself in for the night. As you lay down in bed and plug in your phone, you see a new text from Josh.

11.23pm Josh Kiszka: don’t write him off yet x

Chapter 2

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @profitofthedune @sinarainbows @klarxtr @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroupie @mackalah @clairesjointshurt @writingcold @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hi-hi-hello11 @dont-go-home-without-me @gvfpal @freefallthoughts

Message me if you'd like to be added/removed from my tag list!

#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #this is fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #sam gvf #gvf smut

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f10werfae · 1 year

Note

Can u write something abt frat!chris evans and reader getting into their first argument

Frat!Chris x GF!Reader

summary: Their first argument, which really isn’t an argument, but it’s the closest thing these lovebirds will ever get to it because they’re so damn in love and can’t stay mad at each other♥️😭

Chris Masterlist, full masterlist, taglist form

Chris smiled resting onto his back, his sweet girl just resting on his chest as she traced shapes on his body, her lips placing small wet kisses onto his face any chance she got. “You’re so cute bun, jus wanna take you home with me and marry ya already” Chris said as his smile grew, her hands cupping his face as she smothered his face in tiny pecks; the smell of raging sex filling the small dorm room.

Until their sweet talk turned into Y/n asking why the hell Chris knocked on her door at 2am 6 months ago, leading to their first of many meetings. Looking astonished she listened to her now long-term boyfriend’s explanation, a pang of jealousy in her heart. Even though the whole campus knew how serious Y/n and Chris were getting, facebook status serious. No one needed to see the hickies littering either of their necks to see that Chris was absolutely smitten, his parents’ facebook even gush about the girl as well.

“Come on baby, it isn’t that big of a deal” Chris cooed from the other side of the bed, a fuming half naked Y/n was busy picking up her lace bras from the ground. Her cute face furrowed despite knowing she was going to end up forgiving the big goof on her bed anyway, she always did.

“But you just told me that the only reason we actually ended up meeting was because you were waiting to sleep with some other bitch. Of course i’m pissed off” Y/n huffed crossing over her arms. Chris had made the mistake of telling her that the only reason he actually knocked on her door was because he got the wrong door number, man was trying to hook up with some chick named Stacy that his frat brothers had set him up with. Only when Y/n opened the door 6 months ago, Stacy had been forgotten and Y/n had a complete hold on his heart.

“Baby you don’t understand i’m saying i’m glad I knocked on your door, n’ believe me if I didn’t find you then, i’d be lookin for your sweet ass. Trust me” Chris smirked watching his girl try to hold back a small smile as she threw her undergarments back onto the floor and slowly slipped back in beside him.

“I love you and only you, gonna put a rock on that finger once we’re outta here you know this. I’m gonna buy us a big country house, lots of space for our future babies, you like that yeah?” Chris nodded watching Y/n nod along with him shyly, this was the first girl he had taken on so seriously and he knew she’d be the last. Because they’re for life baby.

“But once you graduate what if you find someone-“ Y/n whined plopping her head down onto his chest, his rough fingers combing through it gently as he laughed at her stupid ideas

“Sugar, do you not remember that I literally carry a pair of your thongs in my bookbag, your hair tie is on my wrist, I have a timer set to feed your pet fish, I’ve taken your younger sister to the county fair and i’ve already promised you a ring. Nothin is breakin this love, not even the thought of it”

Y/n satisfied with his answer smiled up at him longingly, even though she was a sophomore in college this was her first real relationship, same with Chris although he was a senior. Both loving for the first time, and it’s enough love to last a lifetime. “I love you so much” Y/n gleamed her fingers trailing down his happy trail on his stomach, his fingers softly caressing her stomach.

“Can’t beat how much my heart beats for you” Chris said cheesily, his other hand tilting up Y/n’s head for their lips to meet. Her small whimpers filling his mouth as his tongue coaxed hers out, both of them meeting for a sloppy sensual kiss that had them both left wanting more. “Go to sleep baby, you’ve got a 9am tomorrow” Chris whispered against her lips, his thumb brushing away the saliva that had collected onto her chin, her eyes sparkling with that same glow they always had.

“You’ll be here when I wake up right baby?” She asked wrapping her arms tightly around his torso, “I’m never letting you wake up alone again bub, if i’m ever not in bed with you it’s because i’m out buying your ass your favourite breakfast. I am sick of you going to class hungry, can’t let my best girl starve can I?”

“Okayy okayy i’ll sleep, don’t wanna hear anymore of your nagging” She groaned pressing one last kiss to his peck before settling deep into his side, his lips coming to her ear to whisper one last thing, “i’ll always choose you bunny, even if we never met, somehow i’d find you. I promise you that, my one n’ only precious woman”

Let’s just say Chris finished off his apology not only with a breakfast in bed the next day, but with a poem he wrote with the help of his frat brothers, declaring his love AGAIN for Y/n in front of the whole sleeping campus. God was he whipped, and has it bad.

———-

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @patzammit @pandaxnienke @stormcloudss @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @chrisevansdaughter @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @evanstanwhore @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @mischiefsemimanaged @thereisa8ella @uwiuwi @bval-1 @angelmather1 @lastwandastan @diyabhanushali1 @emvebee @annajustwrites @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @roofwitty779 @fdl305 @bluebellsn @mdpplgtz03 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @s-void @oliviah-25 @nikkitc0703 @meetmeatyourworst @girl-of-multi-fandoms @imboredat2am @adoreyouusugar @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @mrspeacem1nusone @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @tojisbabymomma @chrisevansangel @tinyelfperson @mansaaay @ilovetaquitosmmmm @xoxokiaraaxoxo @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @caps-shield1918

#romance #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot #frat!chris

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creedslove · 7 months

Note

I just got my masters degree and my bf did not want to celebrate because it’s not that big of a deal and instead he went out by himself.

Would you do an imagine with any of the Pedro boys or him himself celebrating it? I just need a Little pick me up ❤️

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: OH MY GOD HONEY!!! CONGRATULATIONS 👏🎉💐🎉 This is amazing! Such great news honestly, I couldn't even make it through graduation so if you managed to get your masters degree this is a huge deal!!! I hope you are enjoying yourself at the moment and forgive me if I step outta line here honey but your bf is a piece of shit honestly, you know what's not a big deal? His mf ass!!! Once again I'm sorry bestie but you deserve way better than this guy honestly, and well, I thought about it and I decided to go with Joel because he would exactly how to treat you right ❤️

• Joel loves how smart and hard working you are, he is a guy who isn't book smart even if you praise him for his emotional and rational intelligence, he knows that in your relationship you got the brains

• he supports you through everything you decide to do, concerning your academic or professional life, he supports you no matter what and he loves bragging about you and how successful you are

• he would proudly tell anyone you were getting your masters degree because

"you gotta be smart for that, you know, darlin'"

• and once you finally get your masters degree, Joel feels his heart bursting with pride and love and he just gets too excited about you, he wants to know if you will have some kind of ceremony because he will be there

• he hopes he doesn't have to wear a suit but he would if he had to, as long as you are happy he is happy

• Joel would get himself a new shirt and some new jeans, he would put on his good boots™ and his leather jacket 🫦 looking his best for you

• afterwards he would take you out to celebrate just the two of you to some place where you can have some drinks and good food, he's a steakhouse man and no one can try to prove me otherwise but I'm certain he would go for a japanese or italian restaurant if it makes you happy

• he would gift you something too, I'm sure he would go for jewelry, not something awfully expensive, our sweet Joel ain't rich but you can bet he would choose either a beautiful bracelet or a gorgeous pair of earrings and perhaps a necklace

• or even that kind of ring we all would dream of getting from him 😉

• on the weekend he would make sure to throw a barbecue in celebration of you, calling your family, your friends, Sarah and Tommy so everyone could cheer and congratulate you for your achievement

• he is just so happy you managed to accomplish your stuff, he can't even describe into words, he just loves it and he could never hide how proud he is ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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canaidliafail · 1 year

Text

stay grounded pt.5

[part 6]

streamer abby x streamer reader 🌿

so I wanted to write all of Abbys visit to “reader” in one episode but this one is already 5k words and its getting stupid long so..I split it in two parts 🥹

CW: alcohol,weed and sexual endeavours if you will. not proof read, will check later tonight for any mistakes

Minors get outta here

“You’ll love it when I give it to you, leave you wanting more ,Is it everything and more than you were hoping for ?”

_____________

ever since Abby sent you a screenshot of her flight you were on edge. You promised to pick her up from the airport which just meant that you would be there to take her to the bus stop. She did of course tease you for your lack of driver's license and motivation to get it but she did appreciate the gesture nevertheless. However you were scared. You had a bad dating history, an even worse situationship one and you didn’t even want to get into all the people you had to reject during your trips or the other way around. point being, you found yourself ready to light a candle and apologize for all your sins so that karma wouldn't bite you in the ass. Abby, gave you no reason to have that fear. Sure you didn’t text as much as you thought you would but the times that you did she seemed excited and she would occasionally send you screenshots of places she would like to see or would ask for advice on what clothes to bring. Overall, she was nice and seemed to grow closer if her joking manner and her more sarcastic side coming to the light was anything to go by.

you thought of asking

“you smoke weed?” to be ready but decided against it. You always had it anyways and if she were up for a round you’d just roll one on the spot. Abby wasn’t your only issue. This semester at your university was a constant, painful reminder that you were about to graduate with the difficulty level of all the assignments and projects. Now, you were a great student in practice but a terrible one in attendance. It was hard balancing work, mental breakdowns and college.

On your third fitting on the model your college provided you were ready to tear the fabric to shreds and start going off on everyone. You could understand why designers had a reputation for having a nasty attitude but if said designers were having their models switched every week, thus needing different measurements everytime you wouldn’t blame them.

“For fucks sake Im working on a line 44, why cant they just stick to the same model”

“Well this isn’t our graduation project so they are more relaxed”

“well I'm not and they shouldn’t be either” you argued with one poor classmate who dared to calm you down, oblivious to your temper that was impossible to tame.

this was why you refused to have models. In any case, your daily disapproval of your school's teaching system was something that didn’t bother you to that big of an extent. You disliked the way you acted though. You were snarky, impatient and took offense easier than usual and you couldn’t exactly understand why,so one late evening after fighting with everyone that knows you and doesn’t , you sat down on your couch and tried to find which unhealed version of you was getting triggered and why. Half an hour later you gave up and went to make a toast. Your friend group had 5 solid people. June, your most faithful cheerleader to every stupid decision you ever took and the one who also helped you go through with it, Cassie, the most blunt one who brought you back to reality, Rick, She was too sweet and too in love with her slow burn romance of 3 years and last, Olga.

She rarely appeared due to studying in a different city but when you needed someone to figure you out, she was the only one who could get you out of your head.

Most people had a friend like that. Someone that you talked to the least, yet knew you the best and perhaps, had the most intimate and platonic bond to ever exist. So that night, was a cry for help and luckily, Olga was in town and on her way to your place. She came ready, with a bottle of vodka on one hand and a fresh bag of tobacco on the other.

“Im listening”

she said sitting with her legs crossed on the floor across from you. she was about to burn sage and make a tarot spread if need be

“Alright listen so nothing happened but, I'm scared. I feel…weird. See this is a person that I've admired for so long and it’s only hitting me now that I’m about to meet her and its…it's scary actually”

Olga sat through it all and listened to you ramble for hours and pace all over the living room until you exhausted yourself and finally sat back down on the floor and started rolling a cigarette. You were stressed and out of nowhere your eyes were burning and you were crying and Olga was silent through it all. She grabbed you a new rolling paper and passed it over since the previous one got crumpled from your tears.

It took you an hour to completely calm down and then, she finally began to talk

“Listen it’s understandable that you feel that way, She was after all someone you admired for a while and well, it's not like you don't fool around with others but she was always in your mind”

You nod feeling the weighty clawed hands of depression wrap around your throat threatening another crying session that you had to fight back

“And between us, the last time you took anyone seriously it didn't go so well”

“It really fucking didnt” you agreed and she nod. You finished rolling the blunt and took a few puffs

“Alright now that that’s out of the way let's talk reality. Abby will visit you in a week. She is almost in every one of your streams and sure she posts with other women which in my opinion are just her friends,but she also constantly mentions you in her own streams”

You tried to protest and counter argue every reasonable point she made but she sushed you right a way with a glare

“Which has to mean something. Now I know your favorite hobby is downgrading every positive trait you have but Ill have to stop you”

“I really want this to work”

“And it will. Just be yourself,relax and smoke another blunt if you have to but trust me. It will work. It has worked so far and well, what are the odds of that in the first place?”

You smiled. A small smile but enough to show her that her point was understood. You rested your back against the front of your couch and checked your phone. There was a message there from Abby and you let the warmth and excitement that you felt imprint in your mind as a way to soothe your nerves till her arrival.

____________

“Just landed. Waiting for the luggage” you read the message over and over again and then looked up at the gate and saw the people walk out and look around for whoever was waiting for them. You tried to bite down the stupid grin on your face and tried your best to school your features in an unbothered-laid back expression to no avail. You were practically bouncing off the walls and scratching the curtains like a cat.

Abby was here,in your country,in your city a few walls apart. Literally.

You were ashamed to admit that you had practiced different ways to greet her and would constantly switch the position you sat in, not sure what energy you were trying to show. You were man spreading, and then you would cross your legs, and then you would stand up and lean against the bar tables from the cafeteria.

“Get it together” You whispered to yourself and just locked and unlocked your phone pretending to be busy.

One moment you were looking at an old video of you and June attempting a stunt and the other you were looking back up at the gate and the woman of your dreams was actually there. Walking and looking at her phone and then around until she spotted you.

She smiled, wide with teeth and wrinkles at the edge of her eyes and you waved her over. You half ran half walked over to her side and unexpectedly-for you- she hugged you.

“Hey!”

She smelled like pine soap and there was a lingering scent of the outside cold on her jacket. You wrapped your arms around her and felt her weight, her muscles and tried to connect with the very real image that she was right in front of you. She was tall and broad, and fuck so damn gorgeous. You pulled away at the same time and you couldn’t hold back returning the equally big smile that she gave you as her eyes darted all over your frame and face

“Wow hi,this is-“

“Crazy right? Can’t believe I’m actually here”

“Yeah! So how was your flight?” This was comfortable. She was comforting and just,so much easier to talk to than you initially expected. Her voice was lower up close and she wasn’t someone who talked loudly. She was expressive and,and,and

So many things you couldn’t stop noticing and observing about her in pure admiration. You feared that seeing her up close would give you a change of heart and you were so off base because if it did one thing, it was to confirm that you absolutely had a crush on this woman. It was a 40 minute ride till your apartment with the bus and once you reached your destination she visibly seemed to rest her shoulders and lean against the wall taking off her boots and beanie. You hated how attractive she was while doing the most mundane things

“You got a nice place. Can’t believe I’m finally witnessing what's behind the cameras of Cottons studio”

“Hah! If I didn't know you any better I’d say you’re making fun of me”

“I’m absolutely not” she teased and you helped her with her luggage

“So,normally when I have a guest they sleep with me in my room but I didn't know what you were comfortable with so I prepared the couch for you to sleep in as well”

“Ah I don't mind. Thanks”

She said and you assumed she would take the couch but to your horror and relief she left her bags in your bedroom. Which meant you two would share the same bed for the two weeks of her stay.

“Ugh,cool so ok” you looked around nervous and then slammed your hands together in a hollow clap.

“Alright so, let me show you my place first” she walked close behind you as you showed her how everything worked which made it difficult to even walk properly.

I should have trained my walk or something.

You thought in misery as you stood in the corridor showing her your crafting room. She stepped in around you to look at the clothes on the mannequins. You could’ve sworn that there were stars in her eyes when she know the full knight armor that you proudly displayed.

“Fuck I saw this on twitter but Damn you outdid yourself. All these details and”

“Its rococo architecture”

“I noticed.You add details like that to every piece you make. Oh right you also made a white dress that I really wanted to see up close”

“Oh that!” You chirped excited and walked over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room to find the piece. It was from your first year and it was the first clean work you did. The sewing was straight and not a line out of place. You showed it to her and then sat on the thought. That was a fairly old post. How far did she…

“Yeah that one. Its even prettier up close. Sorry I don’t know much about fabrics and all that but from the little that I know this looks amazing”

You were fiddling with your fingers and let her admire all your pieces occasionally adding some commentary about the construction or the inspiration. She showed genuine interest in this and you didn't know how to deal with someone this nice.

“I could make you one if you want” She stared at you wide eyed with a grin and lowered brows “You’d do all of that” she said and placed a hand on the shoulder piece of the knight armor “For me?” You shrugged and walked out of the room to grab your measuring tape that was in the kitchen aisle for unknown reasons. You stopped in front of your workshop's entrance and tried to reach up and see how big the breastplate would be for starters.A soft chuckle escaped her and your eyes shot up to look at her.

“Yes? Abigail?”

She gave you a crooked smile and licked her teeth “You are really short” You would have choked on your spit if your throat wasn't so dry. Was this her way of hitting on you?

“I think your judgement isn’t trustworthy since you are just unreasonably tall. My measuring tape won’t fit the whole of you”

She reached up and rested her hands against the door frame and leaned a little closer to you. Close enough to spike up your heart rate to a dangerous pace.

“Is that not to your liking?”

And in this moment, You hated every girlish bone in your body for smacking her lightly in the sternum and laughing all the way through that embarrassing gesture.

What.was.that.

“You are insufferable” she smiled and pushed herself away. That would sum up any notable moments in your first day with Abby. You did talk a bit and made a quick and general schedule of what you could do while she was here all the while she kept glancing around at your room and you decor while you rested on your couch

“You have a lot of stuff”

“Oh yeah empty spaces freak me out”

She nodded in contemplation

“I like it. My apartment has like, a lot less stuff”

You leaned on your arm and smiled,lazy and pleased with the atmosphere

“Why? Afraid Alice will make a mess?”

“No I know how to keep my pets well trained”

Your cheeks flushed and you reached on your coffee tables drawer to pull out your tobacco and roll a cigarette cause you were getting heated up out of nowhere and you were about to share a bed

“O-oh of course. Then…?”

“I don’t know, I just never bothered I guess? I have a lot of plants though. You’ll see, but yeah I just don't know what decor to go far”

Your mind paused mid sentence. -you will see-

Was that an invite ? You smiled and Lit your cigarette sitting back on the couch in awe of how well the first night went

___________

That night. You simply did not sleep. Your plan seemed genius a few hours ago, but Abby was happily resting in your bed while you played Valhalla,the wrath of the Druids DLC for the second time fighting to stay awake.

Abby Anderson,was sleeping in your bed. You smiled every time you remembered that and then you were ready to cry thinking of the possibility that this would be just a friendship. You texted your friends that had been blowing up your group chat since yesterday.

She is sleeping in my bed right now

Cassie: YOU HOOKED UP ??? GET IT GIRL

No, she is JUST sleeping. I’m up. In my living room playing valhalla

Couldn’t sleep like at all

june: why the fuck didnt you sleep in the same bed?!?!?! Out of all times NOW you remember to have shame ??

THATS NOT

SHIT SHE IS UP EVERYONE QUIET

june: PUSSYYYYYYYU

You tossed your phone on the couch and looked up at Abby in all her morning freshly woken up glory. You gasped quietly at the sight of her unbraided long hair. she wore gray sweatpants and a sleeveless top that showed off her biceps and the sunlight licked the curves of her arms in the most delightful way

“Good morning” you croaked and tried to clear your throat and repeated the greeting more smoothly. she chuckled and sat next to you on the couch

“did you sleep at all?” you shook your head and paused the game

“sorry it got so interesting and then next thing I know birds are chirping” she shook her head and looked at the screen which gave you an opening to look at her

“Then please continue. Need to know who Im competing against for your attention”

you grinned and shook your head trying to ignore her move cause it was too early to handle this version of Abby.

“No, it's fine. Wanna get coffee? my treat”

“sure” she said and you grabbed your phone going to an app and browsing through the open cafes

“you want something for breakfast?”

she leaned against you and peaked at your phone looking through the stores. Your breathing slowed and you felt the hair on your arms raise at the contact that her chin made with your shoulder. You stayed still scared that if you moved she would have pulled away

“I wouldn’t be against that. What do you usually have?”

“W-well. Im european so, a cigarette with coffee”

she looked at you in shock and then broke down in laughter pulling away and getting up with you unconsciously leaning over the spot where she was seconds ago missing her touch already.

“Yeah I’ve seen that meme going around. So it really is a thing” you smiled at her

“mmmm you know me so well”

“Well I hope I do” she teased and went to the bathroom to fix herself up leaving you breathless and a nervous wreck. Did you miss something ? Because it seemed like she was heavily flirting with you and you only now realized how bold she could actually be.

_________

Rick: I Cant wait to meet herrrr <333333

June:I’m so happy you are having fun but if she doesn’t pass the vibe check I’m breaking her kneecaps

Relax! I promise she is really cool.

Olga: what time are we meeting up ?

11 at our usual spot. We will go in together

Abby was laying on your couch going through her phone waiting for you to tell her the plan for the night. She did touch on the fact that despite the influencer parties she was not familiar with the clubbing scene. Not like you seemed to be at least and while at first you insisted that you didn't have to go, she really insisted on doing otherwise. So now you were getting ready and once you were dressed you sat on your vanity and noticed from the mirror that she was watching you. You smiled

“Hey want me to do your makeup?”

She tensed and walked over to you and sat across your vanity on the bed,manspreading and leaning on her elbows which unconsciously made you squeeze your thighs shut and you could feel the tip of your ears burn.

“I’d like that. But ugh,nothing too heavy?”

She asked and you chuckled going back to putting on eyeshadow

“Don’t worry sunshine. Ill do you right”

“Ooooh will you?”

You felt the hair on your arms raise and you looked back at her who had a nasty smirk full of innuendos and you cocked a brow deciding to take on the challenge

“You have no idea”

And that was the first time you saw her get flustered in the most subtle of ways. Reaching around her neck to rub her nape and not looking at you the moment you saw a dust of pink on her nose and cheeks. This was your first little victory.

You were done with your makeup soon enough considering you had a standard go to makeup that you just knew complimented your features the best and then you turned around to start attending to her.

You grabbed a base, a mascara and your eyeliner pomade and stood up to tower over her while doing her makeup.

“Alright relax big girl, I’m not going to hurt you” you said teasingly when you saw how stressfully shut she had her eyes and she breathed out letting a laugh escape and releasing the tension

“Sorry. Not used to this happening”

“That makes me feel so fucking special” she chuckled and then tried to stop when she felt move on your hands starting to do their work.

“You have beautiful features, you know. Bet you’ve been on many MUAs eyes”

“Stop,you’re just flattering me now”

“Absolutely not. I hate doing peoples makeup and yet I wanna do yours”

You tried applying very little foundation, loving the map of constellations the freckles on her face formed and had a desire to accentuate them more by working around them.

Without realizing you moved closer to her standing between her spread thighs, your naked knee grazing her jeans. She carefully moved a hand behind it and gently held your leg which you tried not to think too much about. That was until you felt her thumb brush against the tender flesh of your skin. Slow and subtle and so careful, almost like a wolf trying to lure in a deer. You kept working with her face and when it came to doing her eyeliner you had to be steadier. So you moved closer, balancing your knee on the edge of the bed between her legs, her hand following the movement all the way through until her palm was now resting just a few inches below your ass given that now the only empty space was your thigh.

You were shaking

“Sorry Ill have to hold your face so that I don't mess up”

“Yeah go ahead”

She said a little more rattled than you expected her to sound and you held her cheek while drawing a thin,small brown line. You finished up with the mascara and had to resist testing your luck by suggesting lipstick.

“There. Done”

She opened her eyes and you stared at each other with your lips parted for a few minutes as the realization of your proximity hit. You pulled away first and motioned her over to your mirror which she had to heavily bend over to look at her reflection and she smiled

“Oh wow yeah, You are good. Never thought I’d see myself like that”

Your hands were shaking and you were starting to get anxious. Badly. Your mind wandered off to the fear that you just missed a very good opportunity and you seriously needed weed or a drink

“Alright we are ready to get going then”

Abby hit it off with your friends right away. Not that you ever had doubts but you could never be too sure. Rick, the sweetheart, was obviously just incredibly happy to see you with “the buff mommy of your dreams” as she whispered to you before you walked into the club which earned her a slap on the arm to hush her. The night was going well, save for the first hour of awkwardness before the shots started coming in and the good songs were being put on. You danced and when your favorite song came you and June grabbed each other by the arms and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You were so lost in the moment that you completely forgot how you looked and when you turned around to check on Abby there was nothing but awe in her face. No hint of disgust or discomfort or second hand embarrassment as you feared you would find. No, if anything she seemed to love whatever was unfolding before her eyes and she leaned back to sit on a stool and crossed her arms with a smirk looking smug. You walked over to her and too drunk to care propped your hands on her thigh and leaned in close to her ear

“Are you having fun?”

An arm reached out around you and rested on your lower back which gave you shivers. Your dress was backless and short which normally would make you feel cold but Abby's touch made it feel like it was hot summer night

“Oh yeah this is great. You are a good dancer”

You laughed drunk and high with music euphoria and held her arm you fingers pushing into the muscles in delight and tried to get her stand up

“Then dance with me”

Dragging her was pointless. Like a mountain Abby would not move and could not be swayed. But she did seem to enjoy your determined efforts to get her to do what you wanted so she indulged you while teasing your every move and reaching out to take a sip from her drink.

“You are so stubborn” You mumbled and she leaned in closer asking you to repeat the question the same moment that a girl bumped into you and in motion you fell on Abby. Gravity failed you both as her drink spilled all over your dress sparing her jeans and shirt which made you frown and groan in frustration.

The girl turned around to look at you in embarrassment and immediately held your hand

“I’m so sorry fuck let me help you clean up” she said frantic and your face softened immediately at her remorseful behavior. Your dress was most certainly ruined though. Abby stood up pushing her drink on the other side of the counter and held you by the waist glaring at the girl “Its fine we got this” She said, loud enough for the three of your to hear and moved you upstairs to the restroom.

“Alright now, paper towels” She said to herself and you leaned against the sink counter feeling your head buzz. The smell of chlorine made you dizzy and you had to kneel down and rest your head in the hollow of your crossed arms that were propped against your knees

“You good?” Abby asked and you looked up at her concerned expression

“Ah, I have such a good angle from here” Sober you weren't friends with drunk you. With every shot you took your filter evaporated and you were the type of drunk who got incredibly horny and flirty. The sight of the woman who was sculpted like a Greek statue accelerated those thoughts and those khaki pants sat so nicely and low on her crotch showing just a sliver of her black boxer briefs.

“Oh you are drunk as fuck” She said and kneeled before you holding your arms away from your chest to start cleaning the front of your dress.

“You leaned your head closer to her face and she looked you in the eyes with a playful scowl.

“Oh and you aren’t ?”

She shook her head with a smile and went back to wiping your top

“If I wasn’t I would not be able to do this with that much comfort” she admitted and you did only now notice that the area she was so carefully trying to clean was your chest. You smiled and held her hand to grab the tissue

“Let me do it myself then”

“Absolutely not”

“You fucking pervert”

“Oh you have no idea”

You both laughed and when you left the bathroom you were even closer than before. She still refused to dance much but with the help of your friends you did lift her spirits enough to at least not constantly be seated on a stool. That and she seemed incredibly intent on keeping hold of you one way or another putting quite a show when a more sensual song would play without ever getting too explicit. It drove you mad, this slow burn game of push and pull that lasted throughout the entire night and all the way home where you both crashed on the bed hardly in the mood to properly change or take off your makeup but you did have the decency to turn around when she changed and so did she. Not that it mattered since she decided to sleep in her sports bra and sweats and you wore an oversized t-shirt with your underwear only.In a way,there was a distant thought of you hoping that something more would have happened while at the same time you were incredibly satisfied with the turn of events

—————

Abby’s POV

Her head was spinning and not from vodka. All night she was fighting the urge to make you dry hump her thigh or thrust her hips against your ass in the most vile and sexual way possible.Hell she was close to doing so after the fifth shot of Smirnoff. She groaned and turned around in the bed now face to face with your sleeping frame. She was close enough to feel the small puffs of air on her exposed sternum. She herself was slowly dozing off and was ready to fall asleep until she felt you move closer and bury your face in her chest and tossed your leg over her thigh,keeping the other one snuggly between your own. Her senses were clouded and her head was a mess and she saw you open your eyes that were glossy and in the same daze as she was. You didn't say a word and neither did she. She felt your fingers first, circling her waist and nudge at the waistband of her sports bra, feeling the skin and dipping your fingers beneath it just enough to feel some more. Your eyes fell on her lips and she took the initiative to kiss you. That was the intent. But the gesture was a lot softer, barely grazing the surface. She looked at your eyes trying to find any sense of discomfort but you whined at the loss of contact and she kissed you a second time with more fervor,nibbling on your lower lip and pressing her tongue against it. You opened your mouth with a moan and she took her chance to dive deeper and switch positions with her now on top of you and your hands deep in her scalp holding her hair in fists as you reciprocated the gesture silently begging for more.

She pushed a thigh between your legs and you met her movement by grinding your hips against her chasing some sort of release.

“Abby” you whispered her name like a prayer and she pulled away from your bruised lips a string of saliva still connecting you both with the taste of your cherry lipgloss on her tongue.That soft needy voice may have been the most divine sound that had ever graced her ears. She gave you another kiss on the cheek and then on your jaw and went all the way down to your collar bones. She decided to linger on your neck a bit more nibbling at the tender skin just above your pulse,careful not to leave any unwanted marks. You called for her again and she pulled away and held your face in her hands and gave you another kiss. There were so many things she wished she had the energy to do that night, but there was an impending headache numbing her skull and she could see you struggle to stay sober and awake. You were both drunk and in need of sleep.

You pulled her closer and she rested her head on your chest listening to your heartbeat. Her arms slipped beneath your waist holding you tightly against her front and then she finally fell asleep

••••

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squirrel-fund · 9 months

Text

A.U.gust 2023 • Day 9 • College

A huge thank you to @gallavichthings for hosting!! 🧡

[This started out as just a graphic of Mickey's door, and then this happened...]

•••

"Excuse me. Could you tell me where to find-"

"Do you know-"

"Would you mind help-"

Ian freezes among the sea of college students that pass by, ignoring him as if he were invisible.

Why didn't he take the advice of his older siblings and gotten here earlier? Now, he could feel anxiety pooling in his chest as fear sped up his heart rate. His first day at college and he's already fucking up. Damn, what if Frank had been right? What if he was just a mistake, a waste of space.

"Hey, you okay?"

Ian focuses on the female voice in front of him. Finally, someone willing to help him.

"I think... I'm fucking lost."

"Here on campus, in life, or both?"

He lets out a relived laugh. "Definitely both."

"Okay." The girl repositions her bookbag on her left shoulder and grins at him. "We'll tackle one thing at a time. Can't find your dorm?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"You look scared to death." She laughs before softly punching him in the shoulder. "Come on, I know someone who can help. I'm Mandy, by the way."

Ian can't help the relieved smile that blooms across his face as he follows his new savior across campus. "Nice to meet you, Mandy. I'm Ian."

<><><>

"So, Ian... you single?"

"Oh, uhm... well, kinda."

"Kinda? What the hell does that mean?"

This was the moment that Ian had obsessed about. To be out and proud on campus or be okay with hushed hookups in some random closet. To gay or not to gay was the question he desperately needed to decide an answer to. So, why not give it a shot with a helpful stranger.

"I'm single. My... my ex... we broke up after graduation. He said he didn't want to be tied down."

Mandy snorts at his answer. "Well, your ex is dumb as shit. You definitely won't be single for long, trust me."

That was it. No judgmental frown, no shocked reaction. Ian just knows, right then and there that Mandy, whatever her last name is, will officially become his favorite person on campus.

At least for now.

As they continue through the halls, Ian starts to notice that the overly cheerful bulletin boards that introduce RAs to the students around them and encourage that friendship is indeed magic, have suddenly gone barren.

No bright colors, no badly drawn, well-known characters from television and movies. Just printed notices that announce floor meetings, things for sell, and other blunt, to the point directions. Ian has to chuckle when such a notice catches his eye. It reads: "GO TO FUCKING CLASS!"

Nudging Mandy in the side, he points at the sign so she too can enjoy the ridiculous words that are trying, and probably failing, to be motivational.

But instead of laughter, all she does is roll her eyes. "I know. He's so fucking stupid. I swear if he gets kicked outta the RA program I'll kill him myself."

And Ian needs to ask the obvious question. Who the hell is 'he'? But before the question can even land on his tongue, Mandy is pounding on a door.

"Open up, dickbreath! Need your help."

She jiggles the doorknob, but it's apparently locked. Dickbreath must not be in, but Ian can see a note taped to the door that has an emergency number written on it.

"Maybe we should call the emergency number?"

Mandy pauses her assault on the door and raises an eyebrow at him. "What emergency number?"

Another glance towards the piece of paper and Ian can see that the number isn't a number at all. It's a word written middle finger to those on their side of the door.

With a shake of her head, Mandy goes right back to pissing the occupant off. She just keeps pounding on the door, making threats to whoever lives inside, while other residents start peeping their heads out into the hall, clearly interested in the disturbance but not enough to take action.

One audience member must know her, though. "Just fucking text him, Mandy, fuck! Some of us are trying to study. I mean-"

And it's during this rant that the door swings open and the hottest, angriest guy that Ian has ever fucking seen steps out into the hallway and instantly yells at the guy.

"Fuck off, James! You're a general education major. The fuck are you studying? Two plus two? Spoiler... it's fucking four."

It shuts the guy up instantly. Well, that and the laughter from his fellow peers.

But dickbreath isn't done with him.

"Why don't you go write a letter home to your mommy? Tell her you're still a virgin. Bet she'd be proud."

Ian can practically feel the anger radiating off of James when he slams the door closed. The rest of the students return to their rooms and Ian hears Mandy's brother clear his throat.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Ian. He's lost."

"No shit. He's with you."

She scoffs, crossing her arms and hitting him with a glare. "He needs help with finding his dorm room."

Dickbreath, or whoever, leans against the doorframe. "And? Take him to student services. S'not my job to play tour guide."

"Actually, it is. You're a resident advisor, Mick, so maybe you should, ya know... 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦 him where to go."

Ian senses tension. He hates tension. So, he trys to smooth things over. "It's cool. Nick is right. I should have-"

"It's Mick." Dickbreath... uhm, Mick says, sounding out the letter M like he's talking to a toddler. "Like milk, mad, money... and call me Mickey."

Mandy giggles. "Like the m-mm-mouse."

"Shut the fuck up."

Apparently, she's used to this because she just sticks her tongue out at him and pulls her phone out.

"Oh, shit, I gotta go. I'm late for class-"

"The fuck you are."

"-and the professor is a real bitch-"

"You should love her then."

"-so, anyway, yeah. Ian, Mickey. Mickey, Ian. Have fun!"

And just like that, she's gone.

<><><>

Mickey eyes Ian. Jesus, this dude's tall. He should be in a damn centerfold, not here, outside Mickey's room, looking like a fucking wet dream. And goddammit, he's gorgeous. Red hair, green eyes, freckles fucking everywhere. He's always been a sucker for freckles. They just demand attention. Quickly, he imagines them together, talking about absolutely nothing, a storm rolls in while Mickey traces those tiny specks with his fingertips.

Shit. Mickey needs to get laid real fucking soon because, he thinks, he just might need to kick his own ass for that thought.

"What building you in?"

Ian shrugs. "I don't know."

And that's annoying, but, "alright, what's your room number?"

"I don't... I didn't get that information."

Mickey grabs his hoodie off the inside hook beside his door and shrugs it on, closing it behind him. "That's weird. They usually give you that shit in orientation."

Ian doesn't say anything and Mickey takes a minute to assess this situation. New student, lost as fuck, track pants, backwards hat, duffle bag-

"Which you didn't go to because they scheduled your practice at the same time, didn't they?"

Ian's eyes go almost comically wide. "Yes! Why do they do that?"

Mickey shrugs, pushing through the emergency exit open in a way that doesn't trip the alarm, a skill mastered after weeks of running late for class. "Because they own you now. Scholarship?"

"How did you know?"

"Ain't my first year, Red. Plus, I'm supposed to be 'friendly' and 'relatable' as a chosen RA. I know how to spot fresh meat. Plus... you're dressed like a fucking billboard for both Under Armor and this school. No one does that unless they're throwin' money at them."

"Right. Makes sense."

Mickey nods. Of course it does. It's then that he realizes they're walking without a destination, and really, that's unacceptable. "So, do you know anything about where you might be staying?"

Ian stops walking, dropping his duffle bag to the ground before taking a knee and rummaging through it. And Mickey absolutely DOES NOT think of Ian on his knees for any other reason.

"Ah! Here! It says my resident advisor is Paula? Uhm... yeah, Paula Bitterman."

"Fuck off. Paula?"

"You know her?"

Yeah, Mickey fucking knows her alright.

"Listen man, I'm supposed to make you feel comfortable in your 'transition to educational success' but that bitch is fucking nuts. One dude, last year, apparently played his music too loud for her taste and to teach him a lesson she tied him to a chair, smeared raw ground beef on his body, and threatened him with a big ass German Shepard. Guy had nightmares for weeks."

Mickey doesn't need to add that the guy in that story had been him.

Ian groans with this new information. "Great. That's all I need on top of everything else. A psycho RA!"

And he feels bad. Mickey knows how much pressure new students are under, add in being on a scholarship and then top that with Paula Bitterman? Anyone would crumble under that.

Ian shouldn't have to though.

Mickey knew as soon as Mandy showed up at his door with Ian what his matchmaking bitch of a sister was doing. And even though he didn't seem to, he does appreciate her efforts.

But, he wanted to play this slow. That's why his ass is single 𝘯𝘰𝘸. He moved too fast. Got too comfortable and went and caught feelings for someone who did not feel the same.

And ever since then, for the past six months, Mandy has paraded every gay guy she meets across Mickey's path. Yet, none of them have interested him. Just a gray blend of guys who could be mistaken for anyone else.

But there's something different about Ian. From the moment that Mickey saw him in the hallway, he can tell this motherfucker clings to the shit he cares about.

Mickey sorta wants that someday.

So, fuck it. Here goes.

"You could... I don't know... I mean, if you wanted to..."

"If I wanted to what?"

Spit it out, Milkovich!

"You should sleep with me."

That was not what Mickey's brain had wanted to say.

"I mean... not together, obviously..."

Ian scrunches up his face, sarcasm extremely evident. "Obviously? You mean, you don't want to sleep with me?"

Mickey sighs. "What I 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 is that there's an open room on my floor this semester. I could probably pull a few strings. Get you moved."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better option than whatever dumbass this place chooses for me."

Mickey knows he needs to try harder.

<><><>

Three weeks into the semester and Ian is obsessed with Mickey.

How could he not be?

Not only did Mickey get Ian moved to his building but he also, somehow, got him a card for the cafeteria to get free food. He had said it was because of Ian's "fucked up schedule" making it nearly impossible to grab a bite on days he has practice.

But, Ian likes to believe it's more than that.

Because Mickey comes to his games, he texts him at night to complain about James and his "bitchy attitude", he sends him funny memes before Ian has to run across campus to the two classes he absolutely dispises, and on the rare days when Ian comes in way too late from practice, muscles aching, exhausted beyond measure, Mickey always has some type of food waiting for him.

Yet, Ian doesn't say anything. He knows Mickey is gay. That's not the problem.

The problem is that Mickey is a RA. And, technically, all these gestures that he makes for Ian fall under the umbrella of a helpful RA. Through his rough, sorry not sorry, attitude, Mickey is a great RA and he actually gives a shit about his residents, even James.

So, yeah, Ian stays quiet about his infatuation for his RA.

Or, at least he does until October, when he's interrupted from his studying by a familiar, obnoxious banging on his door.

He yells out that it's open and just who he expects steps into his room.

"Hey, Mands. What's up?"

She kicks the door shut and glares at him. Ian feels a fear he's never experienced before slide down his back. "What-"

"Are you retarded?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are. You. Retarded?"

Honestly, Ian's a bit offended. "No."

Mandy crosses her arms and nods. "Then are you blind?"

Alright. That's it.

"Okay, Mandy. I don't know what your deal is but-"

"𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭!?" She practically screeches in his face. "My 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 is 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. My brother likes you. He does all of these things for you to prove it and show he's interested, and yet I find out that you're going on a date with some meat head from my chemistry lab this Halloween? What the hell, Ian?"

"Mickey? Hold on, Mickey likes me?"

"Yes! God, you are 𝘴𝘰 dumb!"

Ian agrees, perhaps he is. "I just thought he was doing all that stuff because he's my RA."

Mandy scoffs, but her posture softens. "My brother half-asses his RA responsibilities just enough so they won't pull it from him." She sits down next to Ian on his bed. "Feelings are hard for him. Whenever he experiences them or voices them, all he gets is disappointment. His ex, his so-called best friend from high school... our father..."

Ian stays quiet. He doesn't know much about Mandy and Mickey's dad but he knows enough to shut his mouth.

It's a solid minute and a half before she continues. "He deserves to have someone be kind to him for once. To love and to be loved in return. Doesn't everyone deserve that? At least once in this shitty life?"

He nods, because, yeah, everyone does deserve that. And Ian knows that let down. He knows how it feels, he knows how it tastes. How it can stew within you and ruin every good thing you come across.

"Yeah, of course."

"You remember back when we first met? When I asked you if you were single? If you had been in a relationship or straight, I would have taken you two floors down, where my boyfriend is a RA. Instead, I took your gay, single, lost puppy looking ass to my brother."

Ian doesn't know what to say to that. Imagine if his fear from that day had won out and he had never met Mickey? That thought alone physically pains him.

His cellphone lands in his lap. "Text him. Now. And cancel your other date. Halloween is Mickey's favorite holiday."

He just grins. "Yeah, I know."

As Mandy lets herself out, mumbling about how clueless men are, Ian opens up his and Mickey's message thread. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap. Hopeful he'll land safely in solid arms attached to tattooed knuckles.

He types:

"Are you free on Halloween?"

#not beta'd we die like Sammi should have #this has no plot #but I wrote it so #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #mandy milkovich #college au #a.u.gust 2023 #auds writes #auds does canva #ficlet #less than 2500 words

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littlemisspascal · 1 year

Text

Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere

pairing: modern-ish Pero x Female Reader

summary: In which Reader is a newspaper columnist with few self-preservation instincts, Statesman is an insurance company with a catchy jingle, and Pero is the insurance agent assigned to look after you. Except only two outta three of these statements are true.

word count: 3k+

rating: T

warnings: Reader is nameless with no description except for being shorter than Pero, language, blood, violence, guns, non-major character death, Author’s poor attempt at humor, Author knows nothing about insurance and/or a career in journalism, mistaken identity, supernatural elements, worldbuilding

author note: this is what happens when I watch Puss in Boots The Last Wish and then a Statefarm commercial and then random inspiration sparks. It’s borderline a crack fic, but hey, sometimes that’s what the muse wants. I even have more scenes outlined beyond this so...Hopefully someone out there enjoys this 😊

The story of how you wound up in Wader’s Rest is a rather boring chain of events that can be summed up as follows: you graduate with a journalism degree, spend the next five years trying and failing to convince a major news outlet to hire you all the while typing up fluff pieces for your hometown’s website so you can afford food and other necessities, receive a job offer out of the fucking blue offering you a columnist job in a town hundreds of miles away, decide screw it let’s go and…yeah, that’s about it. For these last six months, Wader's Rest has been your new home.

Wader's Rest is a medium-sized-ish community settled along the southern coastline, perpetually smelling of freshly caught fish and sea salt. It’d be a decent tourist destination, in your opinion, if it wasn’t also a hive of criminal activity, crawling with smugglers and drug dealers and fugitives. The city can be split into two types of people: crime-doers and crime-avoiders.

Oh, yeah, and then there’s you in a solo category of your own making: crime-seeker. Insert trumpet fanfare here.

There’s a grand total of one newspaper responsible for updating residents on all things Wader's Rest-related. Wader’s Reader has a staff of twelve working all hours of the day in an ugly brick building on the corner of Main Street, right across from a coffee shop you’re 65% sure is a front for black market antiques but it’s also the only place that doesn’t judge the ungodly amount of sugar you pour in your drink so. Until that percentage rises up to 100%, you reckon it’s alright giving them a pass in the meantime.

In a time where a quick search on your phone or computer can answer any conceivable question you have in seconds, the residents of Wader's Rest are strangely protective of their newspaper. Like, Gollum my precious! kind of protective. The most likely reason is probably because the internet access out here is so painfully slow it’s practically nonexistent, but you like to think they actually look forward to reading your column. No more writing about baking contests and music festivals, not when you’ve discovered the addictive adrenaline rush of investigating the many, many, many crimes of Wader's Rest. Nothing else gets your blood pumping as much as witnessing an illegal exchange of weapons in the back parking lot of a Wendy’s.

So it isn’t uncommon then, to spend your nights crouched behind dumpsters (or sometimes even inside them) or picking locks or doing other shady-as-hell-if-you-had-any-other-job activities in order to gather all the facts and details you need to write the perfect piece for your loyal readers. Insert inspiring quote here like fortune favors the bold or whatever.

It also isn’t uncommon for your nights to end either in the hospital or covered in so many bandages it looks like you spent the night in the hospital. You’re on a first name basis with most of the staff, including Dr. William Garin who’s got such vibrant crystal blue eyes he could’ve been a glasses modeler in another life. Shame he’s got such overwhelming heart-eyes for your boss or you’d be severely tempted to shoot your shot.

Anyways.

See, the problem is, you’re not exactly a master of subtlety yet, and also some of your column subjects don’t always appreciate being watched like they’re zoo animals—they appreciate it even less when you point out that conducting their illegal business in creepy alleyways and abandoned warehouses doesn’t magically make them invisible. Really, any Average Joe could stroll right in and watch the proceedings.

You grunt, head banging against a cement wall so hard you see stars. A meaty fist tightens its grip on your shirt, holding you high enough the toes of your sneakers barely scuff the ground, while the owner of that fist—so massively muscular he’s more of a grizzly bear than a man—glares down at you through narrowed eyes.

Yeah, all those Average Joes really don’t know the fun they're missing out on. Concussions plus bruised, possibly cracked ribs equal exciting times

“Hey Big Mac,” you wheeze, blinking until your vision’s more or less clear and his unimpressed face swims into focus. “Did you get more muscles? You look like you got more muscles.”

If possible, his unimpressed look increases.

Big Mac’s been a recurring foe since your first week in Wader's Rest when you went out for a midnight McDonald’s run—you have a weak spot for their McFlurries, alright?—and discovered him throwing bricks at the neighboring weed shop’s front window. Where he got the sack of bricks remains a mystery, but upon shattering the glass he was in and out in a matter of thirty seconds with an armful of edibles before disappearing into the darkness of night. You’d been so stunned by the whole ordeal not only had you forgotten to call the police, but your McFlurry had melted before you’d even tasted it.

You’ve lost count at this point how many times he’s been featured in one of your columns. Big Mac’s like a really nasty stain on a white shirt, impossible to ignore, but he’s also smooth as fucking butter, sliding out of cuffs before any charges can stick. You don’t even know the giant’s real name (don’t care to learn it either, the nicknames you hand out like free candy add some extra pizazz to the writing)—just that he likes edibles and that when he’s not breaking store windows he can usually be found working as a henchman for any one of the twenty something crime lords in the city. Apparently they don’t mind sharing lackeys so long as there’s no loose lips. Snitches wind up in ditches after all.

Tonight you’ve interrupted a clandestine meeting in the factory district between Big Mac and a new fellow you’d decided to call Stringbean due to his lithe frame—you never claimed to be creative with your nicknaming ability. All it took was accidentally knocking over a trash can with a deafening bang and here you are, helpless as an overturned turtle, hoping you can talk your way out of this predicament with as little bloodshed as possible.

The telltale cocking of a gun immediately dampens those hopes.

Both you and Big Mac look to the sound, finding Stringbean aiming a pistol your direction. He’s a nervous-looking thing, sweat shining on his brow, and there’s few things in life as scarily unpredictable as a twitchy man with a loaded gun.

“What are you doing,” Big Mac rumbles without any inflection in his tone.

“We agreed no witnesses,” is the breathy, slightly nasally response. Nothing about Stringbean–aside from the weapon in his hands–screams bad guy. He’s thin, bespectacled, suit too neatly pressed like it’s his Sunday best clothes. You estimate him lasting about a week before the bigger sharks gobble him up and spit out his—you squint, oh good lord—his bumblebee patterned bow tie as the only evidence of his existence.

“Witness?” you pipe up. “Witness to what exactly? Care to shed some light–ugh!”

The rest of your sentence ends in another choked wheeze as Big Mac shoves you against the wall again. Yep, something’s definitely broken in your body now. He’s not even looking at you, the bastard, like you’re not even a worthy enough threat to keep an eye on for any devious tricks.

Instead, Big Mac says something to Stringbean, probably some kind of grumbling threat about tearing Stringbean’s head from his shoulders if he doesn’t put the gun away, but the thunderous whooshing of blood in your ears prevents you from hearing if that’s right or not. It’s a good line though, the kind of line that tempts you to sneak it into your draft and hope your boss doesn’t cross it out with that damn red pen of hers, possessing a special sixth sense for sniffing out bullshit.

Stringbean retorts something that’s also lost on you–God, you really need to invest in a tape recorder, or some sort of phone app–but whatever he says has Big Mac dropping you without warning, lunging at the smaller man like a lion after a mouse. You fall on your hands and knees with a faint yelp, gritting your teeth at the instant blooms of pain shooting along your nerve endings. It takes you a second to collect yourself, but it’s a second too long to have wasted, remembering too late how dangerous your situation is—

Bang.

A scream escapes you, cowering against the wall in a scrunched up ball. Big Mac’s lying on the ground, unmoving, a chunk of his shoulder missing and gallons of blood gushing out like a damn river. Oh shit. Oh holy fucking shit. Stringbean’s on the cusp of hyperventilating, seeming unable to process his own actions, and then those anxious, too-wide eyes lock onto you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m sorry,” Stringbean says, and he actually sounds sincere. But the effect is immediately dulled when he lines up the gun directly with your face.

One would think, being mere seconds from a bullet entering your brain, that you’d have some kind of epiphany about the meaning of life. See flashes from your childhood, hear an angelic chorus, that kinda thing. The odds aren’t in your favor. There’s no healing from a headshot at this close range. You are going to die and the only stupid fucking thing you can think about is that damn catchy jingle.

Squeezing your eyes shut, words tumble out of your mouth at a frantic speed, “Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!”

Stringbean pulls the trigger.

—

Statesman designing a new kind of workers compensation insurance specifically catered for your risky lifestyle had been your boss’ idea. She knew the head guy of the company, some old bearded fellow straight out of a Wild West Eastwood movie called Champagne (no last name, just like Cher), pulled a couple of strings (which is probably code for glared him into submission), handed you a pen, got your signature, and boom—as of three days ago, Lin proudly informed you “You’re completely covered. Cuts, broken bones, rabid squirrel attacks, the whole shebang. Now get out of my office.”

You’d liked your old insurance and had been quite happy with their care, thank you very much. But there’s no arguing with Lin when she gets that glint in her eye like some kind of bird of prey. And besides, forcing insurance on you is a sign she cares, right? That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself anyways.

The commercials are enjoyable, you can admit that at least. Especially the ones where there’s some kind of dangerous situation involving rampaging bison or avalanches or whatnot and the agent, whose uniform includes a leather jacket and cowboy hat, swoops in to the rescue after the poor would-be victims shout out the jingle Anytime, anyplace, anywhere Statesman is there!, then teleports everyone to safety.

Entertaining? Yes.

Realistic? Hell no.

—

There’s a high-pitched ringing in your ears, rattling around inside your skull.

“—ime for this. Get up.”

Huh? Who’s that?

“I don’t like repeating myself. Get. Up.”

Oh no. Eyes still shut, your hands search for a wound, for blood, patting all over your head, then your chest and torso. Nothing. Fuck, you’ve died and crossed over into the afterlife. That’s why there’s no injury or pain. Your life is over. The end. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. You can’t—

Something hard hits your leg. “You’re still alive.”

Your eyes snap open, surroundings blurring into focus. You’re in the warehouse still. Stringbean’s on the floor near Big Mac, sightless blue eyes staring back at you, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead revealing blood and bone and brain matter. Immediately you avert your gaze, tasting bile in the back of your throat, and it’s only then you see the pair of boots by your legs.

A man stands over you, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with soft-looking, unstyled brown hair and a stubbled jawline sharp enough to give papercuts. The words ruggedly handsome come to mind and stay there, banishing all other thoughts. Brown eyes so dark they’re verging on black stare down at you beneath furrowed brows, the perfect image of silent judgment. What the hell. He might just be the most attractive person you’ve ever seen, beating Dr. Pretty Eyes Garin by fucking leagues.

“Did you just kick me?” you ask before you can stop yourself, rising to your feet. Your head barely reaches his chest—a very broad chest, you can’t help noticing, leather straining at the shoulders to contain him—and you have to crane your head up to continue meeting his dull, half-lidded gaze.

“You weren’t listening,” says the stranger with a voice like the scrape of a butter knife on toast. Your heartbeat stutters, discovering a new favorite sound, and it takes you an embarrassingly long moment to realize you’re staring at his mouth with way more intensity than a person should look at another person’s mouth.

“Uh, yeah, well I-I thought I was dead. He was going to shoot me.” Your eyes drift towards Stringbean again, frowning at the gun in his hand. It doesn’t look like a pistol anymore, metal mangled and warped. “What the hell?”

“Backfired on him. Rare, but it happens.” He shrugs a shoulder, unconcerned, like he’s seen a thousand bloody incidents and he’s numb to the gore. And that’s…a scary thought to consider.

“Right...” You eye him a bit more critically now, taking in the scar dissecting his eyebrow. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

Irritation flares, momentarily overtaking the budding apprehension. It brushes against your journalist instincts, insisting you’re missing something here. “Alright, Mr. Nameless, do you want to at least explain what exactly you’re doing here in the middle of the night?”

“Same as you. Work,” he answers curtly, glancing at his wrist where an expensive-looking watch is wrapped around the tan skin. Your fingers twitch with the urge to touch. “When I’m called, I show up. No matter the time or place.” His eyes flicker around the room with thinly veiled disgust. “Even if it means coming to shitholes like this.”

He goes where he’s called? That’s an interesting and ominous choice of phrasing. What is he, some kind of hitman or secret agent or—

Wait a minute.

Dangerous situation. Popping up out of nowhere. Wearing a leather jacket. Your life is saved despite all the odds stacked against you.

Understanding hits like one of Big Mac’s bricks, finally connecting the dots together and good lord it’s so fucking obvious you fully deserve the forehead slap you give yourself. “Holy shit the jingle actually worked.”

His scarred eyebrow lifts. “What?”

“How did I not know this was a real thing?” you half-ask, half-demand, hands settling on your hips. “You’re proof teleportation is fucking real! I feel like this is something more people should be talking about. Unless…Unless not everyone has this kind of coverage. Oh my God, is this some kind of extra health protection bundle attached to my new contract written in the fine print?”

That stupidly attractive eyebrow lifts even higher.

“Don’t give me that look. Nobody under seventy-five reads all those tiny words, especially when the whole stack is five hundred pages front and back. All those poor trees…Also,” you point an accusing finger, “you’re missing a cowboy hat so I really can’t be blamed for not recognizing you.”

“A cowboy hat?” His face screws up at that, and somehow he makes the expression of someone who stepped in dog shit look attractive. Seriously, how is this guy even real? “I’d rather die than wear one of those.”

You stare at him, slack-jawed at his bluntness. “First of all, too soon, man, too soon. There are dead bodies literally right there. And secondly, wow,” a smidge of awe slips into your tone, “you must have some balls, rebelling against the big boss man like that.”

Oh to have been a fly on the wall seeing Champagne’s reaction to the refusal to comply with the uniform policy. You’d only met the old man for a hot second, but considering his love of westerns it wouldn’t surprise you if he challenged his opponents to quick-fire duels at high noon. Water guns or foam pellets instead of actual bullets, of course. He might gargle with bourbon and use a spittoon, but that doesn’t mean he’s a total heathen.

You snort a quiet laugh, then wince at the ache in your rib cage. Oh, yeah. There’s that fun pain again. The nameless agent turns away with what you think is an eye roll, but it’s too fast to tell, and looks down at Big Mac and Stringbean.

“I-I guess I need to call the police,” you say quietly, stomach churning when a sideways glance reveals a growing pool of blood beneath the bodies. Scary to think how close you’d been to being one of them.

“If it makes you stop talking to me, go right ahead,” your companion quips, uncaring of the scoff he gets for it.

You find your bag by the trash can you’d hidden behind before Big Mac seized you. Bag is a generous term for the accessory that’s more duct tape than fabric after being dropped, kicked, and run over amongst other unfortunate fates. Still, it does a good job of carrying your stuff so you’ll keep on stubbornly holding onto it until the bitter end.

Pulling out your phone, you open the keypad only for the whistling notes of a song to have you freezing in place. Literally, your body feels like it’s become a block of ice, goosebumps rising along your exposed skin. As surreptitiously as you can manage, you sneak a glance at the agent, and it shouldn’t be fair how someone can look so seductive with puckered lips while whistling such an eerily haunting tune. The sheer contrast is enough to make your brain hurt.

Or maybe that’s a side effect of your skull smacking against the wall.

“Did you forget it’s three numbers?” he says abruptly, startling you, and the way he’s now looking at you gives the distinct impression he thinks you’re an idiot. “Two, technically, since one repeats itself–”

“I know what to do,” you snap defensively, turning back to your phone with a huff. Deliberately you slam your thumb against the three buttons, but find yourself hesitating to press call.

Looking up, you find the nameless agent already staring back at you. His head tilts, displaying the same confusion of a dog not understanding their owner’s behavior. It’s…almost ridiculously cute.

“Thanks for, um, being here and stuff,” you tell him, barely restraining yourself from doing something awkward like giving a thumbs up.

He blinks, a flash of something you think resembles surprise crossing his face, and then he’s back to blankness. “I had to come,” he replies.

“Well, yeah, ‘cause of the magic jingle,” you wave a flippant hand, words tumbling out faster than you can keep up with them, “but still, it’s nice, you know, having someone to watch your back, even if I don’t know who you are–”

The sound of your name has your jaw shutting with an audible click. For a second time you think about the unfairness of the situation. He has access to your file, knows your name and personal details, and what do you get to know about him? Bupkis.

“...Yes?”

“Make the phone call,” he says, an edge of amusement in his voice that produces a funny warm feeling in your stomach. Nausea, you decide, that must be it.

Grumbling under your breath, you look back to your phone and finally hit the button, listening to it ring.

“See,” you say, purposefully smug, turning around, “I’m not an idiot–”

The man is gone.

Didn’t even say goodbye, the ill-mannered jerk.

And as the operator picks up, asking what’s your emergency, you can’t help but think your insurance agent is a bit of an enigmatic asshole. All intimidating and sour-faced to ward off unwanted attention. Probably thrives off confusing his clients like he’s some kind of damn Rubik’s cube personified.

Which is good for you since you thrive off of solving mysteries and inserting your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll know his name, his birthdate, hell, his entire history by the end of the week.

You eat Rubik’s cubes for breakfast.

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #the great wall fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #my fic #my writing

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miyuhpapayuh · 11 months

Text

eight.

It had been a couple weeks since Zora and Leon had been a couple, and it was everything they'd hoped for.

Pure bliss.

Breaking the news to their respective circles and mamas might as well have been a marriage proposal, the way everybody was over the moon excited for the two.

Zora finds her way to Leon's job with his favorite food from her job, as well as something for herself.

Following the path to the main entrance, she stops at the check in desk, biting back a laugh at the way the girl looks up at her.

“Mmhm, and who are you here for, pretty girl?” She asks with a smirk on her face.

“Leon Grey.”

“Oh, you're the girlfriend he's been telling us about!”

Zora lets a laugh loose. “He's been talkin’ off heads about me??”

“Mmmhm! He's right, you are absolutely gorgeous!” She compliments, sliding the clipboard her way.

Zora blushes and thanks her, before signing her name on the line and sliding it back. The lady unlocks the steel door, both of them cringing at the loud buzzing sound it makes as it automatically opens up.

“You never get used to that ugly ass sound,” she comments. “Go down the hall and make a right, and you'll find the lounge.”

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

Following her directions, she finds him sitting at a table with a couple guys, who start staring at her immediately.

“Yo, who is that?” One of his coworkers asks, making him look behind him. An immediate smile graces his face.

“My girlfriend, Zora.”

“That's your girlfriend??”

“How you pull a thick’n like that, with your lanky ass?”

Leon sucks his teeth and turns back to them. “Where y'all girlfriends at, again?”

The table fell silent, making him nod. And just as he was about to lay into them a little more, a hand finds his shoulder, making him look up.

Zora smiles sweetly, placing the bag on the table. “Hey, baby. I got your favorites.”

“Hey, sweet stuff! Thank you. I wanna introduce you to some knuckleheads.”

“Yeah, caught em starin’ at me when I walked in. Might as well learn some names.” She smiles, making one of them choke on air as Leon chuckles.

“Zora, this is Craig, Darnell and Clyde. Y'all, this is my girlfriend, Zora.”

“We've heard so much about you, dear. It's a pleasure to finally put a name to a face.” Clyde smoothly speaks, reminding her of her uncle, Tommy.

“Yeah, sorry about the staring. Leon wasn't lying when he told us how gorgeous you were.” Darnell says, making her laugh.

“Hey, at least your mouth wasn't open.” Craig adds.

“It's all good, guys. It's nice to meet y'all.”

“Well, let's get out of their hair, y'all. We'll see you later, Leon.” Clyde says, wrangling the other two up from the table.

Zora sits down beside Leon, laughing as he quickly leans in for a kiss, before pulling the knot from the bag.

“How's your day been so far?” He asks.

“It's been good. I talked to my boss today, and she agreed that her son is outta control. Finally.”

“Really? That's great! Wait… he ain't try nothing else, did he?” He asks, before getting too excited.

“No,” she shakes her head, “I told her about the last run in, and she wasn't happy about it. Suspended him for a few weeks in an attempt to make him understand how serious workplace harassment is. She's only giving him one chance and I've got the paperwork already printed up if need be.”

“Is he a mama’s boy like I'm thinking he is?” He asks.

“He's a spoiled brat, yeah.” She nods, making him laugh.

“Well, good. I'm glad you get to have an uninterrupted work schedule for a while, maybe indefinitely. That's ideal, ain't it?”

“You have no idea. I really cannot stand that boy.” She sighs and adjusts her glasses, leaning on his shoulder as he eats.

“You sleepy?” He asks, glancing down at her low lids.

“Maybe a little. I didn't get much sleep last night..”

“How come?”

“Eh, your couch is more comfy than my bed, maybe.” She shrugs, glancing up at him.

Which was code for, “I wanna graduate to sleeping beside you in bed, but I don't wanna be too forward.”

And, of course he knew that's what she meant.

“How about I come over and tuck you in, tonight?” He suggests, feeding her a couple fries.

A small smile creeps its way onto her way before she can stop it. She nods, circling her arm around the one she's leaning on.

“Consider it done.”

“You need extra clothes, too?” She asks with a giggle.

“Hell, you already got my shirts at your crib. I think I'm set!” He responds with a laugh of his own.

“They're so comfy and they smell like you. I'm not sorry.”

“Mm. Maybe I'll just sleep naked, then.” He shrugs.

“Leon,” she smacks his chest with her free hand.

“Look at you, already copin’ a feel.” He continues to tease, laughing at her incredulous expression.

“Anyway, which one of those knuckleheads were you beefin’ with?”

“Craig.”

“I knew it!”

“How?”

“He looks like the type to get into with some– everybody. A hothead like you used to be.”

“You'd be right about that,” he nods. “He's a good kid, he just needs to relax. I just try and look out for him.”

“That's sweet of you.”

“I do what I can.” He smiles.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“I'm so glad y'all are a couple, cause this glow of yours is out of this world!” Nique squeals, right along with Neoma and Lovita.

Meeting them at Neoma’s place, Zora was finally freely gushing about her new relationship.

“I'm glowing?”

“Like an angel baby!” Lovita says, pinching her cheek.

“I'm so happy, y'all,” she smiles. “It's been so great, getting to know a man who wants more than just sex. Who doesn't wanna control things, cause Leon knows he can't and he doesn't try. We meet in the middle. We actually talk about things! He's got me sharing stories that I haven't shared since they happened, ya know? And, why is he so fine?!” She smacks her thigh for emphasis on the last part, making them laugh.

“Oh, we've seen him! He's so pretty!” Neoma laughs. “We're shocked that y'all haven't jumped each other's bones, with all this kissing and laying up y'all be doing.”

Zora rubs the back of her neck, as it becomes super warm. She, too, was shocked that they haven't found themselves in such a predicament.

“Well, to be fair, I just got fully comfortable in his presence. I guess cuddling on the couch is phase one,” she snorts.

“What's phase two, then?”

“Well, he said he was coming over tonight to tuck me in,” she giggles, “he's so stupid.”

“His long ass in your queen bed is gonna be hilarious!” Lovita cackles, making the rest of them join in at the mental image.

“Take a picture or something, I beg!”

“Right, cause I gotta see it!”

“Y'all are stupid, too!” Zora points at them. “But, I got y'all.”

“Good. Now, don't forget about the barbecue we're throwing this Friday. If Leon's free, you should bring him!”

“Gotcha. What am I on the list for, this time?” She asks.

“Potato salad and some kind of dessert. Neoma said banana pudding, but I don't know about that.”

“What, you don't like it?”

“You know me and nanas got a love/hate relationship,” she shrugs. “But, if that's what you wanna make, I'll still eat some.”

“I'll see if I can find something else, sis. I don't want you to suffer through it.” She assures, to which Lovita blows out a dramatic sigh of relief.

“See? An angel!” She nudges Nique and Neoma, who both roll their eyes while Zora giggles.

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Heading out of her room and down the hall, she opens the door to find Leon with a bouquet of lilies in his hand.

“Hey, beautiful. These are for you.” He smiles, holding them out for her to grab.

“Aw, how pretty! Thank you.” She says, grabbing them from him and pulling him inside her place.

“Anything for you,” he says, kissing her cheek before she rushes into the kitchen to cut and place them inside the new vase she'd bought.

“How was the rest of your day?” She asks, as he makes his way over to her, leaning against her marble counter.

“It was good. I kept getting questions about you and me, cause people are nosy like that,” he chuckles. “I shared my food with the guys, and now they're planning on swinging by the restaurant for more.”

“Linda's dream is to feed hardworking men,” Zora laughs, plucking the flowers until they fall in place like she wants.

“Her dream’s about to come true, too. She won't be able to shake ‘em off, either.” He shakes his head, finally getting to wrap his arms around her waist as she comes to stand in front of him, gazing up.

“Ah, she'll be okay. I missed you,” she admits, welcoming the sweet kiss he placed on her lips.

“I missed you too, sweet stuff. I practically mad-dashed through the six o'clock traffic to get here.”

“Don't be speedin’ for me,” she half-jokes, stuffing her hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“I got here in one piece, mama.” He says, pressing another kiss to her lips, shutting her up.

Moving from the kitchen to her sofa, the pair cuddle up and start their usual movie marathon.

“Oh, before I forget. My sisters are having a barbecue this Friday and you're invited, if you can make it.” She says, playing with the strings on his jacket.

“What time does it start?”

“I wanna say three, but you know colored people and time.” She snorts, making him do the same.

“Boy, don't I. But, okay, it sounds fun. I do have to work, but I'm off at four. I'll head that way afterwards.”

“Great, I'll send you the address later.”

Two movies in, Zora felt her eyes get heavier and heavier and Leon's soothing circles on her back weren't helping her at all.

She fixed her slumped position in his lap and rubbed her dry eyes, hearing his faint chuckle from above her. She turns to look at him, a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“Yeah, you fightin’ sleep. It's cute.”

“I didnt wanna be rude and fall asleep on you.”

“I'm not complaining. Plus, you're so tired. We can continue the movie later.”

“If I ain't know no better, I'd think you were trying to put me to sleep anyway.” She tiredly laughs, sitting up.

“That's what I came over for, girl. Come on.” He says, scooping her up in his arms before she can protest.

Carrying her down the hall to her room, he walks in and whistles at her décor. It makes her snicker.

“What is your problem?” She asks, once he plops her down on the queen size bed.

“It's like a love lair in here!” He chuckles, looking around at the many decanters that litter her dresser, as well as the heart-shaped sunset lamp. Not to mention the baby pink satin bedspread she was currently sitting on.

“A love lair,” she laughs again, patting the space beside her. “You're funny.”

“Yeah, you tryna trap me in here, huh?”

“Nah, you can leave if you want. Once you feel how soft these sheets are, you'll change your mind though.”

“See? Tactful.”

“Shut up!” She tosses a pillow at him, which he catches and tosses back on the bed before beginning to come out of his work shirt and his sweats.

Her incredulous expression makes him pause. “I'm not getting naked, for real. I've got shorts on!”

“Jesus,” she mutters, watching him come out of them anyway, catching sight of something else that makes her turn her head altogether.

Wow was all she was thinking.

He smirks, deciding not to mess with her or the rosiness on her cheeks. He’ll let her live it down, this time.

Since she was already dressed down in one of his shirts, that really did fit her like a dress, along with some shorts, she pulls the covers back and climbs in, patting the space beside her.

He climbs in beside her, pulling her on top of him, wrapping one of his long arms around her waist as he stretches out. His feet didn't hang off the bed like Neoma said they would, which still made her giggle.

“What's funny? I wanna giggle, too!” He says.

“Nothing, nothing.” She responds, hooking one of her legs across his lap and tucking her arm underneath his, smiling to herself as his scent surrounds her.

“Come on, what is it?” He asks, as her hushed giggles vibrate against his chest.

“Okay, okay. I wasn't sure how comfortable you'd be in my bed, cause you're so tall. I thought you'd kinda be hangin’ out of it a bit.”

He hums a laugh, hugging her closer to his frame.

“That's a funny visual, I'll admit. But jokes on you, I'm very comfy on these pink silk sheets.” He declares, making her giggle all over again.

“I told you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, giggles.”

“Kay,” she responds, pulling the cover back over them.

“Goodnight, angel face.” He leans down to kiss the crown of her head.

“Goodnight, pretty man.”

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Friday rolls around, and all four Hunts’ are standing in the expansive kitchen of Neoma’s house, pulling lids and foil back from the dishes that were prepared for the day.

Zora decided to make cheesecake stuffed strawberries, which was easy enough and put a smile on Lovita’s face, making her happy.

“They look so good, sis!”

“I know, I can't wait to eat ‘em! I made three pans ‘cause I know how your friends like to snag food and leave nothing for anybody else!”

“Hey now, you leave my greedy friends alone! They reimbursed you for that pan of chicken.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her off, while their mother laughs at the sight.

“A mess is what y'all are.”

“Says the creator of such!” Neoma quips, moving away as Pamela swats at her.

“Zora, is Leon gonna join us for the festivities today?”

“Yeah, he's still at work, so he'll be here later on. Said, he's bringing sodas.”

“Good, we can always use mixers for the liquor!”

“What if he brings like a coke or something?”

“Coke and rum, dummy. Duh!”

“Dummy? Vita, don't make me hurt you in my kitchen.”

“I'm walking away so I won't be privy to the violence.” Zora says, pulling their mother away and shielding her eyes, making Neoma and Lovita laugh.

Soon, the house and the backyard are full of people, both friends and family, indulging in the good food, music and conversations flowing.

Zora had been pulled in every direction, filling the nosies in on her new man, since their mama likes to spread their business like she's the local newspaper.

“He's a sweet man, and he's fine”, is all she really said, keeping the specifics to herself cause it wasn't anybody's business.

“I'm glad you're not still with that loser. What was his name?” One Neoma’s friends, Sarah, asks, making her stomach sour a little.

“Loser.” She responds, as they both fall into a fit of laughter and high-five each other.

“I know that's right! I can't wait to meet the man that swept your fiery ass up!”

“Aw, come on! I'm not that bad!”

“Nah, you don't take no mess, though! Never have.”

“Hey, nobody should!”

“Right, again!”

The sun was high in the sky, warming the partygoers up. And soon, the liquor came out to warm them up the rest of the way.

“Who's green jeep is that, parked down there?” Zora heard someone say, making her whip her head around to look down the car-littered street, watching Leon step out of the driver's side.

Smiling, she excuses herself and heads his way, damn near jumping in his arms as if she didn't just see him.

“Aw, you missed me?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her and swinging her around a bit, making her erupt in those giggles he loves to hear.

“I did! I might've been counting down the minutes til you got here.” She says, tucking her bottom lip in.

“Damn, he towers over girly!” Sarah says, observing them from the porch.

“A tree to climb.” Neoma notes, pulling her drink back up to her lips.

“I missed you too, baby. As soon as it hit four, I dashed outta there.” He chuckles, moving to get the sodas from his passenger seat, following behind her as she leads them back towards the house.

“Ew, stop staring like yall ain't never seen a man before!” She snapped, and only some turned away as the rest continued to openly gawk.

“Hey y'all,” Leon waves to her mama and sisters, hugs going around.

“It's nice to see you again! I'll take these!” Lovita takes the bags from him, rushing into the house.

“Oh lord, she's about to live her bartender dreams up in my kitchen.” Neoma rolls her eyes, following behind her.

“Those two,” Pamela laughs, turning to Leon. “Are you hungry, son?”

“Starving. I smelled the food when I turned on the street!” He jokes, making them laugh.

“Follow me, sweetheart.” She says, leading them both onto the porch and into the house.

Zora introduces him to everybody, as they make their way through the kitchen, piling their plates high with delicious food, and finding a shady corner in the backyard.

Zora watches Leon eat like it's her favorite show, while she sips on her second rum cocktail.

“Y'all's friends are hilarious, by the way.” He says, wiping his mouth with the napkin she handed him.

“They're the worst, I know. Nique should be on her way soon. I know that's your favorite.”

“She's too funny!”

As if she'd been summoned, Nique rushed over to the couple, kissing both of their cheeks.

“Hey y'all! Look at y'all all cozy in this corner!” She coos, making Leon laugh and Zora playfully roll her eyes.

“What took you so long to get here?”

“Chile, Ron big stupid ass messed up the paperwork I sent to him. So I had to save the day like always,” she rolls her eyes. “I need a drink.”

“Lovita’s playing bartender in there, better go get you sumn!”

“Oooh, see y'all later!” She squeals, rushing up the back steps.

“I think she made mine a lil heavy handed.” Leon snorts, drinking it anyway.

“Yeah, she gets carried away from time to time.” She says, popping a strawberry into her mouth.

“Did you eat already?” He asks, referring to her half empty plate.

“Yeah, this is actually my second plate.” She responds, digging back in.

“You look beautiful, by the way. I like that dress.” He compliments, making her blush.

“Thank you. It's about the color of that pretty jeep of yours.”

“Ain't that a coincidence,” he teases.

As the evening melted into night, the stars were high in the sky, as well as in the couple’s low lids.

Sharing a few dances to the old school jams that continued to play, as well as a few more drinks, Zora was past tipsy and feeling ways she hadn't in a while.

Her left foot kept absentmindedly finding its way up his leg, making him clear his throat and look over at her, catching her wanton gaze.

“If I didn't know any better,” he looks around them, before leaning in to where only she can hear him, “I'd say you were a little hot and bothered.”

“What are you talking about?” She squints, trying and failing at being coy.

“Zora’s had a couple drinks, and now her foot is creeping up my leg. That's what I'm talking about.” He smirks.

“I can scratch the itch you got, if you want me to.”

She huffs in response, but she never drops her gaze from his face.

Inhermission

@sheabuttahwrites @thegifstories @blackerthings @twistedcharismaaa @ghostfacekill-monger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @lemmewritesomeish @nayaxwrites @cecereads209 @soufcakmistress @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy

#mochaff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #zora x leon #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction

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lunartadpole · 1 year

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1 ¦ 2

inspired by this post :))

(Tell me baby, do you recognize me?)

Eddie graduates by the skin of his teeth - and with the help of some pity points from the higher ups at Hawkins High School, a makeshift apology for the town-wide manhunt for him - and he is left with the age old question that plagues most, if not all, graduates: what now?

He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know what he's good at. Sure, there's music, he can play the guitar decently but he doesn't know where to take that. And that leaves him in a bit of a slump. His whole life Eddie has been tethered to this town, itching for some grand escape or for something to call him, begging him to chase it down. He's wanted to get the hell outta dodge for so long, he never actually thought he'd see the day where he'd just…go.

So he graduates. He hobbles off that stage, still in his crutches as his legs still aren't fully able to support his weight again, and it doesn't feel nearly as good as he dreamed of, though he guesses that once one looks death in the eye, fights off hoards of literal, real life monsters, menial things like finishing school with possibly the lowest grades imaginable matter less than one thought. And he stays, in Hawkins, just for another month or so. Just until inspiration hits.

He gets a job alongside Steve and Robin at Family Video, because if he wants out he's gonna need the money, and becomes a natural third to their duo. They work many shifts together, mostly mucking about to pass the hours; arguing about movies, laughing at annoying customers, gossiping about Steve's failure of a dating life. It's nice. Eddie finds something in that, friendship. Not that he didn't have friends before all this interdimensional mess, but there's a difference here at Family Video.

There's a difference with Steve.

Eddie never thought he'd see the day where he actually liked Steve Harrington. But he soon discovered that they had a lot more in common than Eddie would have ever thought; and it's not that Steve suddenly likes D&D, or that Eddie gets a newfound appreciation of Basketball, it's that they're both adrift in the ocean of life, aimlessly floating with no direction, no plan on where to go.

Eddie stays for another month. His friendship with Steve only grows when he invites both Eddie and Wayne to stay at his house. Prior to this they'd been living out of a motel half an hour outside of town, thanks to their humble trailer getting ripped in half when the earth split open. Eddie declines at first, but Steve is insistent.

"It's not like I don't have the space," Steve shrugs. "Big house, gotta fill it with something. Why not you?"

The Munsons move into Loch Nora. Wayne is icey at first, unsure about this whole arrangement and untrusting of the Harrington boy despite Eddie's insistence that Steve is not like his parents. But soon enough, Wayne and Steve hit it off and it's like they've been friendly for years. Eddie walks in on them, more often than not, watching football and screaming at Steve's state-of-the-art TV, sharing a beer and a smoke on Steve's porch. Wayne catches Eddie lingering in doorways, just watching, and flashes him a knowing smile.

"He's one of the good ones, that boy," Wayne comments one night. They're watching Steve in the kitchen from the dining room while he cooks, in his absolute element. There are times where Eddie just, sits and watches Steve when he's preparing dinner; the concentration on the boys face, reading recipes written in feminine handwriting out of a battered notebook, and the utter joy when things go his way, is enough to bring a smile to Eddie's lips and a warm feeling through his body.

Eddie felt that warmth then, watching Steve hum to a song he's been trying to remember for the past week, and it's been driving Eddie up the walls hearing that same poppy tune over and over - but it hasn't really. "Yeah," Eddie agrees with a nod, "He is."

The summer breeze rolls in quicker than usual.

Eddie spends his time in the blistering Hawkins heat in the pool, surrounded by his friends. He doesn't mind that, despite Robin's constant begging and his own teasing to show off Harrington's skill in the water that earned him the title of Captain of the Swim Team, Steve never gets in the water with them; he seems perfectly happy to lounge on the deck chairs with Nancy. Sometimes, when Eddie looks over at them, the two are staring off at the pool with some glazed over expression, the very same he has when he remembers the sound of Chrissy Cunningham's bones snapping. So he doesn't ask, knowing that Steve will tell when he's ready.

When they're not in the pool, they're inside with the aircon blasted, watching movies, eating ice cream. Sometimes - read: very often - Steve opens his home to the kids, who eagerly accept under the pretense of continuing whatever campaign Eddie's been cooking up. Steve takes the gang on drives to anywhere and everywhere, and sometimes, late a night when everyone's gone off back to their own houses, he and Eddie will go on their own personal trips; down long, straight roads with the music - which they bicker excessively about - blasted up as high as the car will allow and the windows rolled down. Eddie sticks his head out the window like a dog and Steve will tell him just that. The feeling of wind on his face provides him that escape he longed for, reminds him where he wants to be, gone.

But Hawkins in fall is beautiful, Eddie did always love watching the leaves change colour. The summer breeze disappears and is replaced with that wild, sharp chill that always made his muscles ease up. But something changes in Steve during the autumn. He quietens, and the nail studded bat makes it return beside the front door. Eddie never presses, instead buying candy in bulk and renting scary movie after scary movie for them to watch leading up to Halloween. Steve falls asleep during one of these movie nights, unconsciously tossing and turning until things almost get violent and he wakes in a cold sweat. Eddie is there to hold him, to wipe his tears while he opens up about everything; Barbra Holland, the pool, Nancy Wheeler and the word bullshit, the Russians. And Eddie just holds him while he melts in his arms, the heat of Steve's body only adding to that warm, fuzzy feeling churning in Eddie's stomach. He does something brave that night.

Steve and Eddie share their first kiss watching Micheal Myers terrorise Jamie Lee Curtis.

Halloween comes and goes. That chill in the air turns to a bite of frost. Eddie never did like going on long journeys in the cold weather.

Winter is spent getting drunk and getting high. Because there's not much else to do. The town experienced a bad storm that year, leaving Steve and the Munsons locked in Loch Nora for a week and a bit. They build a snowman in the front yard, have snowball fights with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. Steve makes a killer hot chocolate.

He discovers that Christmas at the Harrington house is one of beauty when Steve puts up the decorations. Hundreds of Christmas lights light up the street at night, and don't even get Eddie started on the tree - huge and intricately decorated with at least a hundred ornaments, each with their own desiccated place. Steve hangs them up out of muscle memory, like he's done this a thousand times. It's during this time Wayne starts to get antsy about their living situation, concerned about what happens when Steve's parents come home for the holiday, but again Steve reassures them.

"They're not coming this year, so don't worry about it."

They worry about something else, but they never ask.

When it gets too cold, Eddie steals Steve's sweaters, Steve curls into the warmth of Eddie's body at night and Wayne lights the fire so the boys can huddle around the fireplace. Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget the sight of Steve's head resting in his lap, face tinted with the soft glow of the flame. Eddie runs a hand through the infamous hair, untangling any knots with his fingers. It's soft. Eddie doesn't think he'll forget that. Steve gets Eddie a new guitar for Christmas, the one he's been talking about all year; that almost makes Eddie ashamed of what he got Steve, a mixtape full of the songs they listened to on their night drives in summer, but that shame disappears when Steve's eyes light up brighter that any of the lights hanging on the tree. They kiss under conveniently placed mistletoe. The snow soon thaws and Eddie weaves crowns out of blooming flowers for his first boyfriend.

Seasons come and go. Days blend into weeks which blend into months. And the more time Eddie and Steve spend together, the less he thinks about leaving. The year ends with a kiss at a small gathering of friends. The spring season is in full bloom before he knows it, then summer, then fall, then winter, and through it all Steve is still at his side. There's an 'I love you' somewhere stowed in Eddie's chest, and he tries to find the bravery to say it to Steve any chance he gets - when he nurses Eddie back to health from a common cold, when he makes Eddie's coffee in the morning, when he holds Eddie close after a nightmare. Steve has told those three little words more times than Eddie can count, but he just…can't get the words out. They're in there though, waiting.

He thinks he's going to say it, the day he drives to the store to pick up some groceries, one December morning in '87. He has it planned, a quiet night in with Steve's favourite meal homemade by Eddie, treating his boy. Then, as he's scanning the aisle for the ingredients, he hears it. That all too familiar sound. Whispers. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, like someone's watching him, and sure enough when he turns there is. A small group of five, look to be around his age, sneering, mumbling amongst themselves. And suddenly it's March, 1986, and people he's never spoken too are demanding his arrest, calling him a murder. Suddenly it's Summer '86, and some punks trashed the front window of Family Video, the words hunt the freak painted over it.

Suddenly, Eddie realises what fucking time it is and what time he's already lost. His skin begins to itch and a scowl finds its way on his face as he recalls his comfort over the past year, his complacency. He leaves the store without buying anything, racing down the road to Loch Nora desperate to get the fuck out of there as soon as he possible can. He doesn't care that he doesn't have anything to chase, doesn't care that he can't do anything yet, Eddie can't stay in this town anymore; not when the people still torment him, look at him like he's Satan himself and cower in fear.

He throws his things in a bag, gathers the decent amount of money he's managed to save up, and just as he's about to leave he notices that the Christmas decorations are up again, that perfect fucking tree towering over him a constant reminder of the part of himself he willingly gave away. He thinks of Steve, bitterly, liar, and how they're not the same at all. Because Steve might be content with being lost in the ocean, no way out, no plan, no path. But Eddie will not fucking waste away in a town that hates him.

He thinks of Steve, lovingly, darling, but it's not enough. It would never be enough.

Eddie writes a note for Wayne and Wayne only. He's gone before the ice can thaw.

December, 1891

Eddie Munson is walking home to his apartment when he sees Nancy Wheeler.

He's got a good thing going on here in New York. Though it was rough at the start. He drove aimlessly for weeks, sleeping in any dingy motel he could afford, but after he found a severed finger underneath his pillow he decided that sleeping in his van was the safer, and cheaper, option.

He camped out in Ohio for a month or three, working at a roadside dinner washing dishes. Then it was on to Kentucky, which lasted an extremely short while, before North Carolina for the summer. New York was never in the plan, not that he had one, but something so far away from small town Indianna sang his name and there he went.

It was…different to say the least. Eddie had never seen so many people in his entire life, it was easy to get lost in the crowd. For the first four months, he was entirely alone, working three jobs of stocking shelves, wiping down tables and bartending at clubs just to get by. But that didn't bother him, not in the slightest. Because he may have been living out of his van, but at least here people didn't cower away from him. At least here there were others like him. Other 'freaks'.

It's not like Eddie didn't know there where other gay people in the world, but christ sometimes it hard to remember your not the only one when middle aged women are shielding their children from you, and dickheads in school carve those ugly words into your locker every morning.

It was these others who let him crash on their couches when winter rolled around and the van became uninhabitable. Then eventually, it was these others who let him move in permanently. They were like him, in more ways than just the obvious. They too had nowhere else to go, no plan, no path, but desperate to find one. Lost in the ocean and trying to swim.

Things started looking up at the beginning of 1989. All that time, alone in the back of a van, gave Eddie lots of time to thing; about what he was good at, what he wanted to do with himself. And, as it turned out, years of scrawling down D&D campaign ideas had paid off, because Eddie was quite the story teller. And after months of rejection letters and disappointments, one literary journal gave him a publishing deal.

He wrote short stories, mainly, fantasy ones of course. He wrote of dragons and monsters, of evil wizards and an unlikely band of heroes. He wrote of a prince, who was brave as he was kind; who loved his kids despite his insistence that they were nothing more than a nuisance in his life; who was handsome to boot and had hair like silk.

Who loved the local bard when the town roared he was a witch.

…that story might be just for him.

And sure, of course there were times he felt a tad homesick. He writes letters to Wayne from time to time, just so his Uncle knows he's okay, but he never gives his address for him to write back, he doesn't know why. Maybe he's scared that Wayne will come find him, drag him back to that shithole town, or maybe it's because he doesn't want a reminder of the town that hated him.

(Or maybe, Eddie doesn't want to know what's changed in his absence. Doesn't want to know how everyone is, how well they're doing without him. How a certain someone is doing without him.)

Which is why, when he sees Nancy Wheeler walking towards him, he freezes.

Nancy hasn't changed since the day Eddie saw her last. Her hair may be a bit longer, a bit more unruly, but her eyes still have that curious glint to them, and her smile just shows her cunning intelligence. And she's still beautiful.

"Eddie?" She says, disbelief flooding her tone. "Oh my god, is that you?"

Dumbly, Eddie stands there, frozen among the crowd of people bustling to get to wherever it is they're going. Nancy fixes him with a look, taking the sight of it in and her the smile on her face grows. She runs forward and wraps him up in a hug, letting Eddie get a smell of her lavender perfume that also hasn't changed since '86. And just like that, all other concerns he had fade away.

He hugs her back, burying his face in her curls. "Nance? Oh Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?!"

When she pulls away her eyes are fiery. "I could ask you the same thing." She jabs his chest with a pointed finger. But her gaze momentarily softens. "It's so good to see you. Are you busy right now? I just got off work, I was gonna go for some coffee?"

Eddie smiles, knowing damn well he's about to get the interrogation of his life. "I'd love that."

The coffee shop, at least, provides some much needed warmth from the winter weather. New York somehow gets far colder than Indianna during Christmas, and Eddie never did well in the cold.

Nancy buys him a coffee. He can tell by the way she holds herself that she wants to demand where he's been and why he left, but she won't ask. Not yet. Eddie's grateful for that.

"I live here now," she says instead, "Well, temporarily, so far. I got a paid internship at The Times as an investigative journalist. Hoping they give me the job soon."

"That's incredible!" Eddie exclaims. "God, I wish I knew you were here. I would've let you buy me a coffee sooner."

She stirs her tea with a spoon stiffly. "Yeah maybe you should've left a number before you took off. Or, well, anything."

And yeah. Okay. He deserves that. But ouch Wheeler.

He clears his throat. "So, uhm, is Jonathan here with you?"

"Uh, no." Nancy's eyes crinkle in a way where Eddie feels like he's missed out on something. "We broke up."

"Shit, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-"

She silences him with a wave of her hand. "No, don't. It's fine. It happened a while ago, just after you left actually." She coughs. "I'm seeing someone else now. But hey, what about you? How have you been?"

Eddie tells her about everything. About the severed finger in the motel, about sleeping in his van, about working three jobs, about his writing. He tells her more than he means too, things he hadn't even admitted to himself yet, but Nancy always brought that out in people.

"I won't even lie, Nancy, I've been missing home so much." At this stage, they've been talking for two hours, the cafe is slowly emptying and the sun is slowly setting. "Like, the city is great, I fucking love it here, but I just…" he trails off, not knowing how to describe the gaping void in his chest when he thinks about Hawkins.

They sit in silence for a bit. Then, Nancy says, "Yeah, we all miss you too. Especially the kids- sorry, not allowed to say kids anymore. Mike keeps busting my ass every time I call him that."

"Shit, yeah. What age are they now? Eighteen?"

Nancy nods. Eddie leans back in his chair, feeling incredibly old.

"It's true, you know. They miss you. A lot. Dustin tried to get Hopper to file a missing persons report. They thought you'd been kidnapped or something."

Shame paints Eddie's cheeks pale. He never did think about the kids' reactions to him leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Nancy huffs a laugh, "Mike took over your little club too. Though I think Erica does the whole game master thing."

Erica Sinclair, god he misses that little spitfire.

"Lucas is captain for the Tigers as well. Oh and Joyce and Hopper? Yeah, they're married now."

"No way!"

"Uh-huh," Nancy's curls bounce as she nods. "Had their wedding in July last year. And Steve is-"

Nancy Wheeler does something then that Eddie has never seen her do. She falters. She doesn't even try to hide the obvious hurt and hate she has for Eddie in that moment, her eyes glare daggers at him. He thinks she's about to rip him a new one, list off all the reasons he's a shitty person in alphabetical order, and leave him, alone forever.

Instead,

"You should come back. For Christmas I mean" she says. "We've all been doing this thing now for the last couple years where we all get together, it's great really. I think everyone would love to see you."

"Everyone?" he asks, hesitantly. A picture flashes in his mind: a boy's head in his lap, face illuminated by a flickering fire.

"Everyone."

Later, when Eddie's packing his suitcase, he'll blame his decision on peer pressure and how he knew if he said no, Nancy would just continue to wear him down until he agreed. But deep down, he knows that it was because the thought of going back to Hawkins- no, back to his family , filled him with that familiar warmth he hadn't felt in years.

"Yeah." he deflates into the chair. "OK, sure. It'll be fun."

Nancy smirks. Never a good sign.

#might do a p2 to this but idk yet???#last christmas by wham! got me feeling shit #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckley

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littlebowdagger · 2 years

Text

imagine being a stoner and living next to him.

cw: drugs (weed), crack/humor (not the drug), sarcastic pet names (sweetheart, sweet cheeks), 18+ MDNI

characters are aged up!

bakugou

⌫ you’re a fresh college graduate who moved to an expensive apartment complex, which happens to be the same one pro hero rookie Dynamight moves into. you got the money from your job, a producer.

⌫ you also happen to smoke pot. like a lot of pot.

⌫ katsuki could tell as soon as he walked up the stairs to the door of his apartment, the smell was instant and strong.

⌫ obviously there’s a dumbass living inside or there are no authority around. well, he was right about both of those thoughts.

⌫ anyways, he shrugged it off the first time. but he got real sick n tired of it when he got woken up at six am sharp by that “awful stench.” so he decided to get up and follow his nose. it didn’t take him far, cause he found his culprit right next door. your door.

⌫ he didn’t even have to put on his costume for anyone to recognize the blonde- but to scare the living fuck outta ya, he was going to wait til he came home from patrol.

⌫ how does he know you were gonna be high? lucky guess.

⌫ so katsuki’s excited to go home. not because he can catch a break from idiots he works with but because of you.

⌫ this man doesn’t even park in his spot. he wants to come unannounced and really interrupt your little “smoke sesh.”

⌫ he stomps up the stairs and it hits him, like always. he’s smirking when he knocks on your door. like seriously. he’s all cocky about it and invading your house waltzing around like some disney villain.

⌫ nah, but he is leaning his forearm on your wall while his other hand is on his hip. looking down at you with a sexy smirk, he goes, “hey sweetheart. i’m getting a smell complaint from your neighbors. mind stepping out here, sweet cheeks?”

⌫ oh it’s good. his voice is so good. the door is only 1/3rd way opened and you’re absolutely plastered. you’re astonished, your expression is a mix of shock and a guilty grin. your eyes are almost glued together as you awkwardly clear your throat and stand up straight, opening the door and slightly slamming it behind you when you step out.

⌫ what’s sexy is he knows everything that’s racing through your pretty little brain right now. the way you stiffly step out, anxiously stand there, and if you were truly sober, you wouldn’t be trying to hold in some laughter through it all. he walks around you, taking a mental picture of your cute figure. he doesn’t need to take a whiff, and clearly, he doesn’t need to explain himself any further for his presence.

⌫ “um. sir-“ “have you been smoking weed?”

⌫ he tsk his tongue when you suddenly stand straighter and look away from him. he bends down to meet his face to yours. he’s studying your eyes. it’s obvious, and he could totally arrest you, but now that he’s looking at you; deciding if this angel could learn their lesson, he thinks he’s just gonna scare you sober.

⌫ “no sir. i would never, s-sir-” you busy out laughing. oh great. now you’re on the floor and pro hero bakugou is standing over the neighborhood plug.

⌫ you can’t help it! he just looks so serious and everything he’s saying sounds like it should be in a horror movie. like some police in horror movies. now he’s chuckling but quickly fixing his face to help you off the floor. he’s taking you onto your couch and locking your door behind him.

⌫ he decides to leave a basket of air fresheners and spray cans with a passive aggressive note.

⌫ you don’t listen. but you never do.

should i do other characters?

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x stoner! reader #mha bakugou #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bnha crack #pro hero dynamight

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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year

Text

Life Goes On (REUPLOADED)

Rhett Abbott x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: 18 year old reader spends her last night in Wyoming with 21 year old Rhett Abbott before leaving for art school

Warnings: None? Two idiots in love not telling each other

might cross post this to ao3, not entirely sure yet but not posted anywhere else.

read part 2 here!

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Freshly graduated from high school, the summer before you left to go to university had flown by. Days were packed full of riding, roping, moving cattle with the Abbott family whenever they needed, spending time caring for your younger siblings when your mom worked day shifts. You and your best friend Rhett Abbott barely had hung out at all, spare moments here and there in the hay loft when Royal wasn’t needing you two to do a chore around their property. Before you knew it, it was your last night in town.

You were perched atop of your roof, staring at the stars as you took slow drags from your cigarette, you missed the sound of your bedroom window being open and boots padding across the shingles. You don’t need to turn around to know who it was that was joining you, you already knew.

Rhett dropped his flannel over your bare shoulders, the strings of your tank top doing nothing to keep the chill of the Wyoming night time air from sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Can’t believe this summer’s already passed by” he says, sliding up behind you and hooking his chin on your shoulder. You let out a small hum and take another drag, the only noise between the two of you being the burn of the paper.

“I can’t either, and I have no idea when I’m gonna have time to come back and see you again.” you say before exhaling the smoke that was in your lungs. “I saw you every day this summer and I still feel like I never saw you.”

He takes the cigarette from your hand, taking his own slow drag before exhaling after a few beats, “you could always not go.”

“Rhett.. I have to go. I have to get out of this town, I can’t stay here.” you tell him for what felt like the millionth time. “This is going to be good. I can go out there and I can get an education and make a name for myself that isn’t the girl who cried wolf.”

“You didn’t cry wolf, that guy.. He was no good.” Rhett says as he rubs your arm.

“Tell that to the rest of Amelia County.” you take the cigarette back and take the last hit of it before putting it in the old water filled coffee can.

He squeezes your midsection a little tighter and you lean back against him, “as much as I hate it here, I don’t want this night to end.” you say as you exhale the smoke from your lungs, watching it swirl amongst the stars before dissipating.

Tomorrow you would be headed east to Chicago, a 16 hour drive, mostly on I-80 before a stint on I-88. It was a drive that you had mapped out for weeks, even alternate routes should you need them. You weren’t expecting to get into the Art Institute straight out of high school but you were honored nonetheless to be accepted. It was something that Rhett didn’t understand, he knew you were artistic, you did murals all over the town, He just didn’t understand why you felt like you needed to go to school for it.

“Are you going to keep working with your dad?” you ask, staring at the moon rising in the distance.

“Yeah, work with him, move the cattle, now that fair season is over I'm not gonna be on the bulls as much anymore unless I do well this next time.” he says as he admires the partial view of your face in the moonlight. He knew that there wasn’t a lot of money in the bull riding at the level he was competing,or in the ranching, so the odds of him ever making it out the city to see you would be out of the question unless he picked up another job or you were able to fund his visit.

You inhale with a shaky breath and before you know it there’s a rogue tear running down your face and landing on his arm.

“Let’s get outta here. Go for a drive, pretend we have more than just a few hours.” he mumbles and you nod your head. He stands up before offering a hand to you to help you stand. When you stand, you’re a little too close than you were planning on being and you look up at him, your breath catching in your throat. He looks down at you, his dark aegean blue eyes boring into yours and for a second you wish that he would tilt your chin up and kiss you. When he doesn’t, though, choosing to step back instead you give him a small smile and a thanks as you make your way back into your room and down and out of the house, putting his flannel on properly as you make the way to the front door. Rhett kicks himself for not kissing you, but he still follows you out of the house and to his truck, putting his hat back on as he shuts the front door behind him. He opens your door for you like the gentleman he was raised to be and you smile softly as he shuts it once you're settled in the cab.

Rhett drives for what feels like hours, heading out of his own personal hell. There’s a small road up the mountain about 45 minutes from your house where as a child you always felt like you could touch the stars. Neither of you say a word as he drives, neither of you wanting to break the comfortable silence with the impending heartache of tomorrow.

He drums his fingers against his steering wheel, bringing you out of your thoughts, “haven’t even left yet and this place already feels so different.”

“Sucks we had to grow up, that you’re leaving…” he leaves the leaving me out.

“This’ll be good, right? ‘M makin’ the right choice?” you question, finally looking over at him and he looks back at you.

“Darlin’ I want nothing more than to keep you home where I know that you’re safe, but I also know that if either of us were gonna be makin’ it out of this place it would be you. You’re gonna be great wherever you end up.” he tells you, hoping that you don't hear how his voice cracks at the end.

You give him a sad smile before opening your door to climb out. He follows suit and when he makes it around the hood of his truck you wrap an arm around his waist, his own arm finds its home around your shoulders.

You make the small hike up the mountain to where there's a lookout, taking a seat in the grass you look up at the stars where they seem even brighter than they were from the roof of your home. "I'll miss this view the most, I think."

"Lookin' up at the stars definitely won't be the same tomorrow night." he responds, taking the opportunity to sit next to you this time so he can really commit your face to memory.

"It's beautiful." a smile makes its way across your lips and you miss the way he's looking at you when he replies.

"Yeah, it sure is." his eyes trail your face, quickly looking away when you finally look over at him.

At some point you fell asleep in Rhett's arms, awaking slightly damp from the morning dew and when the first rays of sunshine were finally making their way into Wyoming. You smile at the way you were curled against his chest, his arm wrapping around your hip and resting on the exposed skin there. He stirs when he feels the arm you had draped across his torso move and he looks down at you and offers a gentle smile. "Good morning, darlin'."

You return his smile with a sad sigh, "mornin'."

You both sit up, and as always he's hopping up before you so he can offer his hand to pull you up to start the walk back to the truck.

"What time you headin' out?" he asks, packing tobacco into his lip, an action that shouldn't be sexy but is coming from him.

"Uh, well.. I wanted to be leavin' now but I won't say no to breakfast?" you say with a smile and he chuckles, starting the vehicle and heading back towards town as you shoot your mom a text that Rhett and you are grabbing breakfast out so she doesn't need to worry about fixing you a plate.

He pulls into town and parks outside the dinner, both of you take your time making your way and inside. The silence is comfortable as you sip your coffee, speaking only when the waitress comes for your order.

The coffee sits like a hot coal in your stomach, nervousness for the drive and leaving your entire life, the man you fell in love with. Sure, he's three years older, 21 to your 18, but that never stopped him from being there for you. Everyone at school called you "Rhett's girl", they all knew not to mess around with you or he would be on their case. Despite all the buckle bunnies throwing themselves at him, he only ever had eyes for you.

It was easy to love him.

The food arrived and only then did you two make small talk. He asked pretty basic questions:

Where are you staying? In the dorms. Do you have a roommate? No, I don’t think so. What courses are you taking? I don’t know yet.

How long are you going to be gone? You hesitated on answering that, unsure of how long you were going to be gone and if you were even planning on coming back. “I don’t know, Rhett.”

He nods his head and puts cash down on the table, enough to cover the bill and leave plenty extra for the tip. He slides from the booth and offers his hand to you to help you stand up, you smile at the gesture and take the outstretched palm as you rise. “Well, guess we better get you back home so you can say your goodbyes and whatnot to your family.”

Rhett dropped you off at your mom’s house, his eyes following you inside as he walked over to your car, opening the unlocked door to pop the hood so he can check your oil and top of any fluids that needed it. Your mom watches him from the kitchen window as you say goodbye to your younger sister and brother, holding them both maybe a little too tight before you leave.

“It isn’t too late to change your mind, baby.” she says turning to look at you and you stand up and look over at her.

“Mama I can’t stay here, you know that.” you walk up behind her and watch as Rhett double and triple checks everything, even turning your car on and making sure you’ll have enough gas to make a good chunk of the way through Nebraska.

“Did you tell him?” she asks as she rubs your back.

“Tell him what?” you play oblivious to her question.

“That you love him.” you stiffen at her words and she lets out a small chuckle, “sweetheart the only person in this world who is too blind to see how much you love Rhett, is Rhett himself.”

“I can’t tell him.. If I told him I would want him to leave with me and you and I both know that he isn’t going to leave behind the bull riding and his family’s ranch.” you tell her and fill up a travel mug of coffee.

She sighs and goes to say something when the front door opens and not wanting to track mud throughout your mothers house from his boots, Rhett stands in the doorway, “your car’s all good to go darlin’. Ma’am” he says as he addresses your mom with a small smile. She shoots you a pointed look and you send back a glare. Rhett shuts the door and stands on your front porch, waiting for you to come out after saying a long goodbye to your mom.

“I was in your position, and I regret it every single day that I didn’t beg him to come with me. I know how it feels and you’re going to regret it too.” she tells you as she holds you tight.

“You did?” you ask and she nods.

“Yeah, I mean, granted I came back and married him, but your father and I lost years of what our relationship could have been, and then he passed away in that bull accident. Don’t make the same mistakes that I did.” she wipes her thumbs over your face and you shake your head.

“I can’t tell him.. He probably doesn’t even feel the same way.”

“You never know unless you say something, so say something or risk losing him forever.”

Rhett looks back at you as you open the front door and he holds it as you step outside, “you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be moving 15 hours across the country.” you laugh and he gives you a small smile before walking with you to your car. He opens the door and you throw your small bag inside that contains your wallet, cellphone, and charging cord. “Hey Rhett-”

“So listen-” he says at the same time as you, “you go first.”

You shake your head, “no, you can.”

“Be safe, please? You’ll have to stop for an oil change along the way so I left some money in the glovebox for you and there’s pepper spray in there as well should you need to use it, on the drive or in the city.” he tells you and you nod, opening your mouth to say something and he takes a step back, cutting you off. “It’s almost noon, you should be headin’ out.”

“Yeah, I uh, I guess I should.” you say, gripping your car as he walks back up to pull you in a quick hug, kissing your head before pulling away.

You inhale as much of his scent as you can, trying to commit it to memory - the tobacco and coffee of his breath as he exhales across your face, the cedar of his cologne, and the mint of his aftershave that’s barely clinging to his skin.

He climbs into the cab of his truck, head leaning back against his seat as he watches your car pull out of your driveway, tail lights fading down the road with the dust trail you leave, he pounds his steering wheel, cursing himself for not kissing you or telling you how much you meant to him and that he loved you.

You looked back in your rearview, your childhood home and Rhett’s truck fading into the background as you headed towards your future, your new life in the big city.

Life regrettably going on for the both of you, without each other.

#lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader #outer range #outer range imagine #rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x reader #robert floyd #robert 'bob' floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader

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