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strangersmunsons · 2 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 6 Prompt: Conversation Hearts 💕 ~ 2,300 words Eddie teases you because he thinks your crush on him is hilarious, but you don’t find it very funny.

A tiny, hard, unidentified object thwacks! against the back of your head.

“Ow!” You spin on your heel to confront the culprit, and…are actually not that surprised to see Eddie Munson standing there, smirking at you.

You rub the back of your head. “What was that?”

Wordlessly, Eddie holds up a small pink box. Conversation hearts. Of course.

You turn back around and keep walking, staring determinedly ahead, but he matches your pace. He strolls next to you down the hallway, nonchalant as can be, like he doesn’t have some trick up his sleeve to pester you with. When his arm brushes against yours, you shift subtly away, not wanting to touch him.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate, now is it?

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumble back instinctively, the need to mind your manners overpowering your need to avoid engaging with Eddie Munson at any cost.

“So? Who’s the lucky fella taking you out tonight?”

There isn’t one. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You gotta tell me who my competition is.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

He pouts at you.

You abruptly veer off to the left and duck into the restroom; you don’t want to hear what he has to say next.

“Hey! Where ya going?”

You shut yourself into a stall and lean with your back against the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? Was it not enough for him to simply not reciprocate your feelings? He had to go out of his way to tease you about the stupid crush you have on him, too?

Used to have, you think bitterly to yourself, as though there wasn’t any lingering affection embedded deep into your heartstrings.

But it’s not that easy.

Eddie Munson was different. He was rowdy, snarky, and absurdly eloquent for a guy in his third go-round as a senior; he liked to read, he played guitar in a band, and he protected his friends like an attack dog. He worked at a bar and dragged on Lucky Strikes as he walked through the school parking lot, practically stomping across the pavement in his heavy boots.

But still, there was a softness hiding underneath that hard shell. You were sure of it.

Smitten kitten. That was you. Reaching your own senior year, you were finally, finally able to share a class with him. Ms. O’Donnell’s fourth period English became your favorite part of the day, the perfect place to indulge in your silly romantic fantasies, because the leading hero who starred in them was conveniently seated just two desks away.

Which was all fine and dandy for you, until he knew.

You still don’t know how he found out. Did Nancy Wheeler let something slip in front of her brother, Mike, who ran and snitched to his fearless club leader? Or did Eddie somehow glean it from you by sheer intuition?

It was little things at first. Cocky, arrogant smirks aimed directly at you when he came into the room and plopped down in his seat. Cheeky tugs at your hair in the hallway. He hissed your name across the library and pulled goofy faces when you turned to look, wagged his tongue and threw wadded-up balls of paper at you. These actions left you confused, and automatically put you on guard. What did they mean, and why did they start occurring so suddenly?

You weren’t left guessing for long. He quickly got bolder. Eddie was already behaving like a general menace, but then it went beyond the rude gestures and peskiness. He did the unthinkable; he started teasing you mercilessly about your pathetic infatuation.

He chased you in the hallways, calling you mocking pet names and asking when you were going to finally give him a chance. He blew kisses at you when you made eye contact in the cafeteria, pouting at you when you didn’t return them, while his friends all watched the exchange and laughed uproariously.

It was so humiliating you could cry, and you had, many times over. And to think you had liked him because he was supposed to be nice underneath that tough exterior.

You’d rather be on the receiving end of Jason Carver’s poisonous words, or even worse — a repeat of Tommy Hagan’s routine torture from the year prior would be preferable to this.

Having Eddie poke fun at your unrequited love for him was far too much to bear.

You sniffle uncontrollably, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You wipe at them furiously with your sleeve, feeling hot with embarrassment. You wish you could hide in here forever, and you almost do — but the late bell rings, and — Goddamn it — you have a quiz. Heaving a shuddery sigh, you walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a sprint to Ms. O’Donnell’s room.

The ornery woman gives you a frown as you enter her class late; you keep your eyes glued to the floor as you scamper to your seat, pointedly ignoring the curious stares of your peers, who are no doubt wondering what’s got you in such a state. Certainly not meeting his gaze, which is trained on you. You can practically feel it.

Quiz papers are passed out, and you can scarcely focus on the questions. You skim and answer as quickly as you can, wanting nothing more than to put your head down and wait for class to end.

The period passes in a blur; you’ve spent most of it watching the clock, telepathically willing the red hand ticking the seconds by to move faster. As soon as the bell rings you’re out of your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder and all but running from the room.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You ignore him, weaving in and out of the crowd of students.

He catches up with you anyway. “What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, for once sounding completely serious as he talks to you. “Why were you crying?”

Tears threaten to well up again. You purse your lips and shake your head as your face starts to crumble. God, you’re so over this whole thing. The teasing and the crying followed by more teasing, and more crying, an endless cycle that left you emotional and on edge every time you had to see him.

“Hey.” He tries to place a ringed hand on your shoulder, a touch that would have had you swooning mere months ago, but you wrench yourself out of his grip, face streaming.

Later at home, your parents are off to dinner, celebrating their own love story. You revel in the luxury of an empty house, taking a long, hot shower, and slipping on your softest pajamas. Ordering your favorite takeout and putting on a comfort movie has you feeling almost okay again; you’re determined that today will be the last day you let Eddie Munson get under your skin, ever.

There’s a rapping at the door. You hop up from the couch and grab the cash your parents set aside for your dinner, pad to the front door, and swing it open with a polite smile plastered on your face.

Except the person standing there is decidedly not a delivery boy with an armful of food, but one Eddie Munson.

Immediately, you try to slam the door shut, but Eddie sticks his foot out before it can close all the way. He yelps in pain as the heavy door squashes his Reebok, but he doesn’t move.

“Oh my God! Is it not enough for you to bully me at school? Now you have to come to my house?! How do you even know where I live?!”

“Wheeler told me your address!” His eyes are wide, alarmed by the ferocity of your reaction. Wincing, he asks, “Can you just talk to me for a second, please? I’m trying to check on you.”

Reluctantly, you ease the pressure you’re putting on his foot. You keep the door half-shut, peering at him from around the jamb. You say nothing, waiting suspiciously.

When it seems to Eddie that you’re not going to deck him, he relaxes a little. “I just wanted to apologize,” he admits, sounding as bashful as Eddie probably ever could. “I guess I upset you earlier today, and I didn’t mean to.” He pauses. “That was because of me, right?”

You sigh. “The fact that you even have to ask…”

His cheeks turn pink, and shuffles his feet nervously. “Look, I’m really sorry. For buggin’ you all the time. I guess…it’s some kind of…wish fulfillment thing for me, or whatever — anyway, it’s stupid, and I’m sorry for doing that to you. I swear I didn’t realize that it upset you so much, otherwise I never would’ve kept doing it.”

Eddie’s grimacing in shame, eyes downcast. He does look awfully sorry, but you’re not quite ready to forgive.

“I just don’t understand why.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “You know, you spend so much time fighting the basketball team, or anybody that so much as looks the wrong way at your Hellfire friends. You know what it’s like to get picked on. How could you do that to me? Even for a second?”

Eddie opens his mouth to interject, but you press on.

“If you thought it was funny that I liked you, then fine. You don’t have to like me back. But you don’t need to laugh in my face about it, either.”

He blinks. “I — what?”

“That’s so fucking mean, Eddie, for you to taunt me every single day —”

“You liked me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap back.

“Princess, if you liked me, this is the first I’m hearing about it. I was under the impression that you hated my guts.”

Both of you fall silent, staring at each other intensely. Eddie’s brow is deeply furrowed, full lips parted in wonder.

You falter uncertainly. “I’m…confused.”

His face is a mirror of your own bewilderment. “So am I. You thought I was teasing you…for having a crush on me?”

You suddenly feel very exposed, like someone just walked in on you naked. “Weren’t you?”

“No.”

The words hangs in the air between you for a moment.

“Well, I definitely don’t anymore,” you state defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because you never looked twice at me and then all of a sudden you — you started calling me Princess and blew me kisses and talked about us going on dates like it was the funniest joke in the world!”

“Did it ever occur to you,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, “that I did all those things because I liked you?”

There’s an odd swooping sensation, like stepping for a missing stair.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, though his big doe-eyes still have a tinge of sadness in them. “I — I thought,” he wavers, then tries again, “I kept asking when you would go out with me because I really want you to. Go out with me, I mean.”

“Wish fulfillment,” you mumble, echoing his phrasing from earlier.

“I thought we were playing some kind of game, I guess. I thought you knew the meaning behind it, when I would do all those things. I had no idea I was hurting your feelings. And believe me, I had no clue that you had a crush on me — you’re way out of my league, Princess. I thought I was fighting a losing battle, so I kept hamming it up.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. “You threw papers at me. And pencils. And dice.”

Eddie chuckles nervously, thoroughly embarrassed. “Forgive me. I’ve been held back twice; that’s not really an indicator of a mature brain, is it?” He shrugs. “I wanted you to pay attention to me.”

All the emotional turmoil of the day hits you like a tidal wave. Impossibly, you find yourself getting choked up yet again. “All this time, I thought you were laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t,” he says softly, taking a step towards you. “I swear on my life, I never meant to make you feel this way. God, sweetheart, if I’d have known…” His gaze lingers on your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the way you’re almost hiding from him behind the jamb. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

You swallow harshly. “It’s my own fault, I think. I always jump to conclusions — everyone tells me all the time that I’m too sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” he reassures you. “You’re sweet, you know? Gentle. That’s all.”

Oh. Eddie Munson thinks you’re gentle.

He cocks his head to the side. “Did it ever even occur to you? That I might have a crush on you, too?”

You laugh in spite of yourself, wiping at a few stray tears. “No.”

“Well, it should have. ‘Cause I did then, and I do right now, too.”

Eddie slips something out of his pocket, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He holds out the same box he had earlier: small and pink, still full of pastel candies rattling against the cardboard. He pulls the flap open and shakes a few out into his palm; after looking over his options, he selects a lilac-colored heart and holds it out so you can see the small text. It simply reads: FOR YOU.

“A small token of my affection,” he whispers. “If you want it.”

Without thinking you reach out and grasp his leather-clad forearm, tugging on his sleeve. “Come inside,” you whisper back, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have him close and warm. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie bows his head. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

He finally crosses the threshold and steps into your arms, swinging the door shut behind him.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

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dckweed · 9 months

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Not sure if you're doing top gun requests right now, but if so, here's one. Rooster with a girl who is helping penny at the bar on a super busy night and there is some rowdy group who keeps calling her over and staring at her, and eventually they go too far and try to grab her but she just knocks one of them clean out and as the guys (hangman, fanboy, etc) is taking care of them, rooster takes her away bc she was about to go crazy on them lol. He's just like "that was so hot but you don't need to go to prison tonight."

baby i am always taking top gun requests. ooooh i love this idea so freaking much, thank you for choosing me to send it too, i absolutely do love it when you guys send things!

please note that i see every request that comes in and i am getting to them one at a time! with that being said, feel free to send one in!

anway, how are we all doing today? are we staying hydrated?

warnings: drinking, violence, inappropriate groping and harassment, bar fights, established relationship with rooster!

"BITCHLESS & DICKLESS' bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader

It was a busy Friday night at the Hard Deck, you and Penny the only two working and barely able to keep up with the constant flow of customers coming through, it only seemed to get even more crowded and rowdy when a small group of sailors fresh off the base come through, taking up a couple of the tables near the juke box. They signal you over and you make your towards them, order pad in hand incase they order more than just beer.

"Hey guys, how can i help you?" You ask, your voice upbeat and a smile on your face. It was sticky hot outside and you knew your shirt was clinging to your skin because of it, you tried not to feel too uncomfortable with the obvious way two of the men were staring at you. "Eyes up here, fellas." You say, giving a playful angry look. You were used to being looked at, it kind of came with the job title of bartender, but that didn't mean that it didn't make you uncomfortable.

One of the men cocks a smirk at you, leaning back easily in his seat. "They'll have a round of Budweiser," He says, his eyes not leaving you once as he gestures towards his friends. "and i'll have your number, sweetness."

Before you can open your mouth to object politely, one of his buddies beats you to it. "Hey, Hanks, give some of us a chance with her damn." He chuckles flashing you a smile.

"How about none of you get a chance?" You say sweetly, laughing with his buddies. "I'll be back with the beers in a minute." You shake your head, walking back to the bar. You grab six cold beers from the ice box and start putting them on a serving tray.

"Those boys gonna be trouble?" Penny asks, maneuvering her way behind you with a few drinks of her own. You hadn't realized that she had heard the interaction.

"No, they'll be fine." You shake your head, glancing back over at the table as you pop the tops off of the bottles one by one. The one that had asked for your number, Hanks, was staring at you and talking to the rest of his friends at the same time. His gaze unsettled you, but you carried on with your job anyway. You make your way back over to them, planting your serving smile back on to your face as you start handing out their beers. "Alright fellas, let me know if there's anything else i can get you, okay?"

"That phone number is still wanted, honey." Hanks' friend says, taking a sip from his bottle. He shoots you a wink and manspreads in his chair, you perk an eyebrow at him. What was it with navy boys being so goddamn persistent?

"I'm sure it is honey," You say, your voice a little more stern on the matter this time around. "but my boyfriend sure wouldn't appreciate me giving it out to random navy boys that walk into my bar." You turn to head back towards the actual bar, where you see Penny starting struggle.

"I don't see him around, im sure what he don't know won't kill him!" Hanks voice calls after you, its almost admirable how persistent they are, it was afterall one of the more endearing qualities about your boyfriend when you first met him, although you had to say that he hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable as these boys were.

"Oh he'll be around!" You call back over your shoulder, not noticing that at that moment said boyfriend and his group of friends had walked through the front door of the bar. You didn't notice them for quite a few minuets, giving them plenty of time to get to their usual seats as you worked on the fresh wave of customers at the bar, mixing drinks and handing them out almost mechanically.

After around twenty minutes or so Bradley comes up to the bar, standing directly behind you, your back turned as you pour beer from the tap. "Here you g-Bradley!" You exclaim excitedly, nearly spilling the beer in your hands before you hand it to the man standing next to him.

"Hey baby," He says, his voice gruff and hoars, tired. He gladly accepts your kiss as you lean across the bar for it, pressing his lips against your own. He was still wearing his flight suit, and still covered in sweat, and a quick glance towards the others told you everything y ou needed to know.

"Rough day?" You look at him, eyes questioning as you get to work making their drinks. Whiskey neat for Jake, Scotch on the rocks for Bradley and Natasha and a pop for Bob, your favorite sober companion most evenings.

"You could say that," He says, a deep sigh leaving his chest as he watches you, already feeling more at ease. You didnt pry any farther, knowing he would tell you all about it in bed that night. "When are you off?"

You pout, coming around the bar with the drinks on a serving tray. "Not until nearly closing tonight," You say, walking with him towards the others. Bradley studiously takes the tray from you, ever the gentleman even on his roughest days, his arm brushing your shoulder as you walk. "Hey guys," You greet, giving Jake and Bob your usual friendly kiss on the cheek, and with a giggle you give one to Nat too when she taps hers and gives you a lopsided grin. You could tell by looks on their faces that they all needed a dose of happiness.

"Where's mine?" Bradley whines, hand on your hip possessively. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his waiting cheek anyway, adoring the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Awe come on Rooster, you get her all the time, let the rest of us have some." Natasha says, causing you to throw your head back in a laugh, leaning farther into your boyfriend. Your laugh was infectious and the whole group lets out a chuckle, you watch their bodies relax afterwards. "Might want to keep em coming, Y/N , it's been a rough one.."

Jake looks somewhere behind you, eyebrows pinched, stare hard. "Looks like you're in need, Y/N" He says, raising his whiskey to his lips to take a sip.

You look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the group of sailors from earlier on the other side of the bar. "Those guys again," You sigh, grabbing your tray off the table.

Bob grabs your wrist before you go, and you furrow your brow at him. "Are those guys giving you a hard time?" He asks quietly, he knew Bradley was already on edge as it was and didn't want him looking for a fight.

"Nothing i can't handle, Bobby," You say, ruffling his hair with a wink before heading off towards the group, putting some pep back in your step. "Ready for round two already, fellas?"

The night drags on quickly and slowly all at the same time, customers come and go, drinks are made and made again and carried out to tables. The two main groups being your Boyfriend and the rest of the daggers and the group of boat boys who become more rowdy as the night drags on.

Bradley is already uneasy with them as it is, catching them staring at you one too many times and asking for your number more than once, to which you studiously turn them down, looking his way as if asking for help. He knew he would step in when needed, but he also hoped that didn't need to happen, he knew Penny would talk to Mav and Mav would talk his ear off about it tomorrow on base.

Your patience had more than worn thin, and you were counting down the minuets until your shift was over, hoping that the last half an hour would pass without any issues. Your hopes were wrong though.

You were bringing the group of boat boys another round of beers and a couple of waters and were just picking up the empties and placing them on your tray when you feel it, a large, sweaty hand sliding up the back of your thigh and right up onto your ass, giving it a heavy squeeze. Your eyes widen. "You wanna lose that fucking hand?" You ask, voice gruff as you stand up straight. The entire table quiets.

"What? Fly girl over there is good enough to squeeze this thick ass but i'm not?" Natasha had playfully smacked your ass on her way to the restroom a short time ago, something the two of you had grown close enough as friends to do. It had made you laugh, but this? Oh this was an entirely different ball game.

You see red, and off in the distance you hear Bradley and Jake both yell and the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as they all get up abruptly. Youve done it before they can even reach you though. The tray drops from your grasp, your dominant hand balling up as the sound of shattering glass reaches your ears and your fist collides with Hanks' face, right between the eyes. You feel a sickening crunch under the force of the blow and blood spurts out of his nostrils as he slumps down, you had hit him hard enough to knock him out.

"What the fuck?!?" Bradley is next to you, arm out protectively as his friends all stand from their seats, ready to brawl over what you had done, even though their pig of a friend had done worse in your opinion. "Y/N?"

"Bitchless and Dickless over there can't catch a fucking hint!" You yell lunging for his friend. Rooster's arms hold you back though before you can make contact with him, the entire bar watches you scream and kick at the sailor as your boyfriend drags you out towards the parking lot. "Fucking assholes! Squeezed my fucking ass!"

Surprisingly, Bob is the first to throw a punch. He had been watching the idiots mess with you all night long along with Rooster. And after their long ass day he was just as ready to fight as the rest of them, infact, he actually took pleasure in what he did. His fist collides squarely with Hanks' friend and Natasha drags the already semi conscious asshole across the floor after you and Bradley, Penny coming to help her.

"Jesus christ baby, you started a fucking brawl!" Bradley laughs, opening the passenger door of the bronco, shoving all of his stuff onto the floorboard as he sets you up on the seat. "That was so fucking hot," He says, hearing police sirens in the distance already. "You have no idea how bad i want to fuck you right now but i can't have you going to jail tonight, buckle in tight baby.." He says, closing your door before running around to the drivers side, the only the thought on his mind is getting you home where you're safe and in your guys' bed, preferably underneath of him.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick imagine #miles teller

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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months

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Take Care Of Business

40s!Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Mechanic!Reader

gif belongs to babyrooster

Summary: The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

Warnings: mentions of period accurate sexism, mentions of a cheating fiancee. copious amounts of fluff, seriously you may overdose

Notes: OMG ITS HERE ITS ACTUALLY FINISHED!!! thank you so sosososososos much to @hangmanssunnies for your endless endless ENDLESS love and encouragement during the last year writing this, and also to @ussgallifrey, who was super supportive during the earliest versions of this fic <3 i can't believe its heeerrreeee

1946

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you’re guided through the busy dance hall, barely missing a waiter with a large tray of drinks as you go. You try to call back an apology, but the hand wrapped around your wrist is already dragging you away, weaving in and out of the crowds of dancers and party-goers.

You’d almost forgotten what the atmosphere in a place like this could be like, exuberant and daring, and now that the war was officially over, lacking in any sort of melancholy.

Bea, your well meaning, but a little over-excited friend, finally seems to be slowing down, though she has one last surprise in stall for you, using your momentum to swing you around to her side with a strength such a small woman certainly shouldn’t possess.

“There she is!” a male voice, deep and pleasant, greets from somewhere in front of you, and you give your head a quick shake, attempting to get your bearings now.

“Sorry we’re late, sugar! Had a lipstick emergency!” Bea says only half truthfully, stepping away from your side momentarily to allow a handsome moustachioed man to lean down and kiss her cheek.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet display. Bea had been telling you all about Bradley Bradshaw for weeks now, and if even half of what she’d told you was true, you already liked him immensely for treating your friend so well.

“And this must be the famous Ducky I’ve heard all about,” honey coloured eyes swivel away from Bea and land on you, making you remember yourself.

“It’s so good to meet you at last, Lieutenant Bradshaw!” you shake his offered hand warmly.

“Please just call me Bradley– or Rooster!” he gently corrects you, before he hums, and shoots Bea a suspicious look.

“Do you think she’s adding us birds to some sort of collection?” he asks conspiratorially, the question making you laugh genuinely at the absurdity.

Bea huffs, shakes her head, and smacks his arm, trying her best to fight off the grin on her lips.

“All I’ll say Rooster, is that you’d best treat her right, or she will hunt you for sport,” you lean in and reply, receiving your own smack for your trouble. Rooster’s face turns bright and he laughs, pulling Bea near with his arm around her.

“I can believe that, yes ma’am,” they look at each other with barely concealed adoration, and it makes your heart clench a little in your chest. You’re quickly distracted though, with the sudden and rowdy approach of six other people, all dressed to the nines like everyone else around you. Rooster seems unfazed by their appearance, though he tears his eyes away from Bea to glance around at the now much larger group you were in.

“Fellas, you all know Bea already, and this is Bea’s friend, Ducky,” he easily introduces you to the six newcomers, all men except for a tall, beautiful brunette woman who looked like she could eat every single one of them for breakfast. A flurry of handshakes and names are exchanged, and you’re surprised by just how quickly you feel totally absorbed by the group of Naval Aviators, like you’d known them all for years and were just catching up again.

“I’m spotting a free table, north west!” the man who held the youngest looking features of the group, Fanboy you believe he’d introduced himself as, pipes up, pointing over everyone's heads to the large round table that was currently being cleaned up. Before you can even process it, the entire group is migrating casually toward the table, Rooster catching the arm of the waiter before he leaves, putting a round in, you assume.

You find yourself next to Bob, who sends you an adorably awkward little grin as he pulls out your chair for you, and you thank him sincerely. Despite the gentlemanly gesture, the moment you’re comfortable, he’s taking his own seat, and once more totally absorbed by the woman you’d learn was named Phoenix, or Nat. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, too distracted by all the new faces, and their excitable personalities, but Bob was clearly, utterly enamoured by Phoenix, and it looked like the feeling was returned, if perhaps a little less obviously

“Hey, Javy, where’s your other half?” Bea is sat a few places down from you, her hand wrapped through Rooster’s arm. A man on the opposite side of the table waves his hand over his shoulder.

“He’s coming, probably caught his reflection in a glass,” Javy snorts.

“I wanted to introduce him to Ducky!” Bea pouts, and her words make you frown.

“Pardon?” you say pointedly, leaning around Bob and Phoenix to look at Bea with a frown. Rooster seems to be matching your expression, and he cocks his head at his partner.

“Ducky is far too nice for him,” Rooster says, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really mean it.

“Oh come off it, Ducks, you could do with meeting someone new!” Bea rolls her eyes, but her voice is imploring.

Your frown deepens just a little bit, but you aren’t too angry. It wasn’t as if she’d tricked you into a double date or anything. There were plenty of other seemingly solo people around that you’re sure any awkwardness could easily be avoided if you managed to stick by Bob and Phoenix.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you there, Honey Bea,” A smooth male voice purrs from behind you, and you almost jump at the hand that comes to rest warmly on your shoulder. You turn quickly in no small amount of surprise at the person apparently so close, but any further thought is cut off when your eyes properly take in the handsome face smirking coquettishly down at you.

You’re so surprised, you gasp daintily, fumbling to your feet so that you can greet him properly.

“Hangman!” you welcome him excitedly, happily accepting the hand he offers to help you up.

“Jake,” he corrects gently, and you feel foolish for laughing.

“Jake!” you repeat fondly, caught up in staring at him.

“You two already know each other?” Bea sounds put out, but intrigued, and you manage to tear your gaze away from Jake for a few moments to focus on her.

“Oh, Ducky and I go way back,” Jake tells her, at first offering no more explanation.

“We met during the war,” you explain to her, opening your mouth to continue on that he had been a friend of your fiance’s, but you stop yourself. Jake had been your friend long before you’d found out he knew your ex-fiance.

“Best damn aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had,” Jake adds, sounding proud as he brings your hand that he still holds up to his lips. Phoenix jerks then, blinking quickly around the other’s and then up at Jake with a growing smile.

“Wait, you’re the Ducky?! Jake’s Ducky?!” She questions in no small amount of disbelief. There’s a quiet chitter of understanding and awe that briefly overcomes the table, and you’re about to ask what it is she means by that, when Jake squeezes your hand and draws your attention, all the while shooting Phoenix a dirty look.

“Stop interrupting,” he scolds needlessly, and draws you closer.

Your chest flutters, but you’re distracted from the butterflies caused by being described as ‘Jake’s Ducky’, and instead distracted by an odd look on the blond’s face. It quickly turns a little darker, and you can’t help but notice the brief flicker of his eyes down to the hand he still holds.

“Where is the old man, then?” Jake tilts his head at you, and then quickly around at the crowded club, seemingly a little stiff now. You suck in a breath, realising now what he’d been confused by.

Clearing your throat, you take your left hand back from him with only a small amount of effort, before smoothing down your frock primly. Suddenly his closeness was nerve wracking as you feel him studying your features.

“Probably with his new wife. I haven’t exactly been keeping up,” you can’t help but scold yourself for the sass and bitterness in your tone. It just wasn’t classy. Jake seems to jolt as he processes your words, and for several more moments he stares down at you with an unreadable expression, before at last a tiny crease pulls between his brows, and his lips purse.

“I never liked him, anyway,” Jake says the words flippantly, and you know it’s supposed to be a joke, but his still taut expression and lack of humour in his voice tell you otherwise.

“Never good enough for you. To you,” he goes on quieter, so no one else can hear but you. You look down at your skirt, heart thumping away rapidly in your chest even as you shrug.

“Well, it’s probably for the best,” you do your best to shake off any residual foul mood and nerves, straightening up. Your lips curl back into a smile as you look back up at him once more. It felt nearly impossible to be melancholy when you knew Jake was around.

“It’s so good to see you again,” you tell him earnestly, and watch as Jake’s face softens. He takes your hand again, keeping eye contact as he lifts it to his lips and kisses it once more, this time, right where your old engagement ring would have been.

“I imagine,” he smirks, bouncing an eyebrow at you. You scoff, but grin even as you roll your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say ‘you too’!” you scold with no conviction as Jake rounds your seat, not even releasing your hand when, helping you back into your chair before he quickly folds himself into the empty space beside you. He simply shrugs at you, making a point of pulling his chair closer to yours, before his eyes flicker past you to land on Rooster and Bea.

“Sorry to ruin your little setup,” he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, though you doubt Bea was feeling too upset, not with the way she was looking between you and Jake with glee in her eyes.

“Hey, wasn’t my plan. I think she’s too good for you,” Rooster chortles, catching the fist Bea attempts to sock him with, and kissing it instead.

Jake ignores Rooster, and instead cuts his gaze down at you, leaning in so only you’ll hear him.

“How long have you been in San Diego? Are you staying?” he asks, sounding excited by the idea. When you turn to face him fully, his nearness is so much that if only for propriety’s sake, you’re forced to pull back from him as you talk.

“Six months now. I met Bea on the boat coming home from London, she convinced me not to go back to New York after… everything.” you tell him, realising suddenly what incredible luck you must have that you just so happened to run into one another when you’d resigned yourself to never seeing him again.

“I’m glad.” he says, pinning you in place when you feel his hand reach out and take yours from where it rests on your lap. Your heart thumps heavily at his brazenness, but it also sets you alight with a hopeful flame that in recent months you had come to realise you always had, but never allowed yourself to take notice of or indulge before.

The thoughts make your face boil, and you avert your gaze, your free hand shaking just a little as you reach for the glass of water that had been poured for you earlier.

“Oh, Ducky,” Jake sighs affectionately, leaning away from you at last, but tightening his grip around your fingers. You finally get the courage to glance up at him sheepishly, only to find him grinning down at you cheshire-like.

“My little sitting Ducky,” he continues, his smile only continuing to grow.

You know you should probably feel more trepidation about his sudden forwardness, but the only thing that you feel pumping through your veins is the exhilarating thrill at the thought of Jake calling you ‘his’ anything after so long of secretly wishing it to be true.

The way he looks at you feels positively predatory, and under his blistering hunter’s stare, you really are his sitting duck.

1942

The rain batters down against the airfield in what you knew would only prove to be ugly flying weather tonight, and you quickly send out a prayer of luck on behalf of the pilot you know by handwriting alone. Your time as an aircraft mechanic had officially come to an end, not for any good or decent reason, mind you, but for the sole fact that someone had suddenly decided that an active airfield was no place for a woman.

Nevermind that you were the best mechanic in the hangar, your colleagues had stroppily resented your presence from day one, and your true purpose as an additional engineer was forcibly concealed. Instead, you’d had to pretend you were a secretary around any actual personnel, especially the pilots, and once the hangar was clear for the day, you would be at last allowed to perform your actual job.

You’d gotten the impression fairly quickly that your coworkers shunted off the hardest to please, fussiest pilot, onto you, hoping you might fail at the first hurdle under the sheer amount of work this ‘Hangman’ seemed to demand. Unfortunately for them, you’d had no problem meeting the brief, and day after day that the planes were towed into the hangar for repairs, the stack of memos detailing Hangman’s complaints that always accompanied his aircraft grew smaller and smaller.

And then one day, instead of a plane to fix and a list of notes, you had a letter shoved into your hands, the contents of which was a written apology from one Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, informing you that he’d he’d been shot down, and all your hard work over the past weeks was now engulfed in flame somewhere in Italy. You’d immediately penned a reply, not caring at all about the state of his aircraft, and expressing your relief that he had made it out safely. You’d had to sign it off using a pseudonym, your own name would have gone against your boss’s wishes, and a fake name would be easily found out on an active military base.

You’d gone with ‘Ducky’, the callsign your father had used during the Great War, and from then on out, it had stuck.

Lieutenant Seresin had been sent back to the airfield eventually, and you’d both gone back to business as usual for several months. His battered bomber would be towed into the hangar for repairs, but gone were his blunt instructions, in their place he left short personal letters usually detailing his most recent flights, and only sometimes with requests about fixtures to be made. You would then leave your own reply for him to find when the plane was returned back to the runway, and so on, so forth.

At least, that's how things had been carrying on until this morning, when you’d been abruptly dismissed by the airfield’s second in command, a snivelling man who had informed you they had ended your auxiliary work here, as it was apparently no place for a woman to be.

You’d wanted to shout and demand explanations, to demand your colleagues defend your worth, but they'd all remained silent, and you’d quickly been escorted off to pack your things with tears stinging your eyes.

You can’t help but wonder if your secret somehow got out, by the doing of jealous coworkers, and if perhaps Hangman hadn’t been so pleased with you upon finding out that you’re a woman.

The heavy rainfall makes it difficult for you and your bags to get across to the waiting transport plane, but the war stopped for nobody, so you’d wound up in the back of the empty aircraft, your clothes and things all but totally soaked. You’d been told the plane wouldn’t leave until the storm died down, so you’d huddled onto one of the benches miserably and tried to get warm, but you felt yourself filled with a deeper coldness than simply the biting european air.

You sit and stare out the back of the plane’s fuselage, simply taking in the distant ebb and flow of the airfield, a flurry of activity that wouldn't stop just because of some rain. It comforted you in a way, to know this place would carry on, but there was a deeper part of you that worried for them. You weren’t a braggart, but you knew you were the best mechanic here, taking not just pride in your work, but joy and passion too. It concerns you what may happen to the pilots in the future.

But, it was much too late for you to do anything else now. Perhaps if you’d been brave enough from the start to demand your recognition all along, this wouldn't be the case, but you think that perhaps they’d have just gotten rid of you sooner.

And then you notice something very odd.

All of a sudden out of the pouring sheets of rain, a covered military jeep comes tearing into sight, its driver in some kind of rush despite the slow lazy movement of everything else in this weather. You blink in surprise as the car skids right up to the plane you’re in, and jump up when it at last comes to a full stop only a few feet from the ramp. You can’t help but take a step back when the door flings open, and you watch as a tall, handsome man bounds out, clearly with urgent business to attend.

The man quickly moves up the plane ramp toward you, ducking out of the rain and taking a moment to fix his hair briefly before he straightens fully again. You stare at him with widened eyes, taking in the aviation uniform he wears, complete with gold wings that seem to glint blindingly despite the lack of sunlight on them. He pauses at the top of the ramp, and you almost jump back again at the intensity of his gaze when his bright green eyes narrow at you.

“Now, now, Ducky, don’t you know it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye?” the lazy southern drawl to the man’s voice surprises you so much that you almost don’t notice the familiarity with which he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry?!” you blurt dumbly. The blonde nods acceptingly, and steps forward, placing his hands on his hips.

“I should hope so! You think Kirk is gonna send me letters the next time I get shot down?” he asks scoldingly, but his casual mention of what would have been certain death for any other pilot is what finally snaps you from your shock.

“You'll get more than just a letter from me the next time you’re shot down!” you say crossly, finding yourself none-too-pleased by his nonchalant attitude toward the subject. Your threat makes a smirk form on the blonde’s lips, and at last he seems to stop his baseless tirade in favour of giving you a very blatant once over. You’re more subtle in your own assessment. A quick glance at the name pinned just below his gold wings confirms your suspicions about who it is you talk to, and when you snap your eyes back to his face, you find he’s already watching you closely.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve known you’re a woman for quite some time,” Hangman says, somehow both seriously and flippantly at the same time, waving his hand dismissively. Your brows furrow and you open your mouth to defend yourself, but shut it again quickly when you realise you’re unsure of what you’d say. “I first suspected when the repair hangar suddenly had a secretary who made terrible coffee. They aren’t sending anyone who makes shitty coffee this close to Italy. No offence.”

You feel like you should be insulted by his words, but truthfully, you’d made the joe that bad on purpose out of pure spite, until they stopped asking you to fetch it. The two of you continue to stare at one another for a few seconds, before you shift your eyes away from him, swallowing thickly as you begin to fidget with your still damp sleeve.

“The other’s thought it best that the pilot’s didn’t know a woman was working on their planes…” you try to explain. Hangman immediately scoffs at your words, and you eye him cautiously as he flings a hand out behind him, toward the entrance of the transport plane and in the vague direction of where the bombers are lined up on the tarmac, their bright colours obscured by the heavy rain.

“Ducky,” he begins dryly, “We paint our planes with women, we name our planes after our women,” he tells you, his smirk tipping up into pure amusement now, an eyebrow following. “Besides, I ain’t ever known a pilot who’s intimidated by a little skirt, especially around our machines,” he purrs, lowering his voice flirtatiously. Your face immediately heats up at his insinuation, and you can’t help but tut disapprovingly at him, even if you did appreciate his other sentiments. You fold your arms over your chest in disapproval while Hangman chortles at your clear bashfulness.

“I mean it, Ducky, please don’t go,” the pilot all but begs you then, his tone suddenly serious. He steps closer again, forcing you to look up at him in the gloomy dark of the plane.

“I– I’m not leaving because I want to, Lieutenant,” you tell him somberly, dropping your gaze again when you find his stare too intense. “I was told to leave.”

Hangman scoffs again, and adjusts his stance.

“Right, and I’ve just come from dangling my ass in front of a court martial, or seven, to make sure that order is belayed.” he informs you much too casually. You sputter at his mention of possible charges on your behalf, your arms falling unfolded again as you take a half-step forward in panic.

“W–what?! What did you do?!” you demand, half worried, half furious.

Hangman grins widely at your clear exasperation, and tips his chin up cockily. You get the sudden feeling he enjoys ticking you off and making you nervous.

“Well, they can’t expect me to remain their best pilot if I don’t have my best girl working on my other best girl,” he tells you slowly, as if it should have been completely obvious already. Your face gets even hotter at his clear flirting, guilt strumming in your stomach at the way your chest flutters despite your relationship status. However, before you’re able to rebuke him by pointing out the ring you wear, the handsome blond makes a show of digging into his breast pocket, and pulling out a crumpled, coffee stained letter, holding it out towards you.

You hesitantly step closer to take it from him, feeling his bright, intense gaze return to yours, as you unfold and quickly look over the typed missive. It’s only a few lines long, and signed at the bottom, so you find yourself hurriedly meeting his eye again.

“You did this for me?” you ask, voice now watery. Hangman stares down at you, looking suddenly less cocky and sure of himself, taken aback by your clear emotional response.

“... Technically, I did this for me.” he corrects unconvincingly, voice lilting to sound dismissive, but you barely hear him, and certainly don’t care for his posturing.

“Thank you!” you gush, feeling a massive weight lift form your chest for the first time all morning. The pilot blinks down at you, stiffly taking in the tears that you try to wipe away with the back of your hand.

“How’re you supposed to drag me back by the ear the next time I get shot down, if you’re not here?” He changes the subject slightly, but only earns a small laugh in reply, not a further telling off, which he’d hoped might distract you from your tears.

“I think that will be the least I owe you after this.” you sniffle. The pilot shuffles uncomfortably, and raises a hand to scratch nervously at the back of his head, unable to sidestep the emotional centre of this interaction like he’d wanted to, but he chooses to wade through it, for you.

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, Ducky, really,” Hangman sighs, speaking tiredly, but firmly. “You’re the best aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had, probably that any of us have had. Shouldn’t matter if you’re a woman.” he hopes he sounds sincere. You hold the belayed order to your chest, and with a wobbling lip stare up at him like he was the sun itself.

You don’t realise this is the exact moment Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin falls completely in love with you, but as he eyes the shiny engagement ring you wear, he does.

1946

You try to ignore the way Bea stares at you and Jake for the next half hour as you catch up, and eventually, you are able to brush off her pointed looks and coquettish smiles. The other Daggers, Rooster and Phoenix particularly, show no such subtly in the way they seem to watch Jake interact with you. Phoenix had even grown a smug little smile in the last few minutes and had begun teasingly questioning Jake about the tender way in which he had taken up your hand and absolutely refused to let it go.

You get the feeling they know something you don’t, but you don’t feel that poorly over it, not when Hangman, Jake, has his hand in yours, his thumb caressing back and forth in little circles everytime you seem to go quiet.

Eventually, tiring of the clear teasing at his expense, Jake rolls his eyes and clears his throat. Fixing you in his gaze fully, he squeezes your hand and gets to his feet.

“I think we’ve both answered more than enough of your questions, Ducky, dance with me?” he doesn’t wait for your answer, but you would have said yes anyway, and, with a final glance back at the table as if to apologise for the sudden exit, you’re tugged gently away and almost immediately find yourself wrapped up on the dancefloor.

“I’m sorry if I’m rusty, it’s been a while since I danced properly,” you say nervously, feeling slightly lightheaded as Jake’s free hand moves to take hold of your waist firmly. His lips flick up, but he fakes a frown anyway, lowering his chin at you. You’re so close now you can feel yourself pressed right against the front of his pristine dress whites, feel the gold buttons through the tulle of your dress.

“I would have thought you’d be out dancing all the time now, fiancee or not,” Jake replies smoothly, making you shift your gaze away from him for a moment.

“It’s hardly wise to spend all my time dancing when I can barely find a job…” you say quietly, chewing on your lower lip, before you finally look back up at him. “If I’m honest, I hadn’t thought I’d still be working, once the war was over.”

Jake’s features lose any of their humour and he purses his lips.

“No, I’d have thought not… you should be being looked after by a good man, living a good life, taken dancing whenever you’d like and you’d never be rusty.” he tells you seriously. You can’t help but smile warmly at him and shrug a little in his hold.

“I think what I should do is adjust my expectations,” you say, inhaling sharply when his hold on your tightens, and he seems to pull you even nearer, if possible.

“I’m afraid that is absolutely unacceptable,” he tells you with a vehement shake of his head. “I think we’re going to have to do something about it, aren’t we?”

Butterflies errupt in your stomach, and unable to bear looking at him any more, you gently pull your hands from his, and wrap them around his neck. Your head rests softly on his chest, Jake quickly adjusting to meet your new stance in a way that suggested to you he’d imagined holding you like this for some time. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you, Jake.” You say quietly, only knowing for sure that he’s heard you by the way he gently squeezes your waist in response.

“For what, darlin’?”

“For everything. For always coming back like I asked, despite your terrible habit of only ever returning with about half as much plane as I sent you out with, for believing in me, and fighting for me, and always being there for me, even when Grey wasn’t.”

Jake stays quiet for a beat, his grip on you never wavering, and for a few moments the two of you just sway.

“It never felt right, knowing what I did about him, how he behaved, and keeping it from you… I… I felt so guilty all this time thinkin’ you’d been married to a man I knew didn’t deserve you, knowing I should have said something.”

It’s your turn to stay quiet, though eventually you shift your face up so that you can look at him. For the first time ever, Jake struggles to make eye contact with you, but when you begin gently smoothing over the hair at the back of his neck he meets your gaze. You smile sadly and shake your head.

“I knew,” you tell him, watching how his expression shifts from guilt-ridden to pained, and he opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “I didn’t want to believe it, and if you’d tried to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you.” You continue stroking the back of his hair as if to comfort him. “And now I can still look fondly back on that time. In my mind, I will always think more of you looking out for me on his behalf, more than I think of him.” you admit.

Jake purses his lips and frowns.

“He never once asked me to do that for you, I couldn’t believe it, even when he knew we were stationed together. I woulda made sure you had someone you could trust, rely on, especially given how the other mechanics treated you.” He sounds so angry, and you can’t help but blink up at him in surprise.

“Grey never asked you to look out for me?” you ask, a fresh sting cutting your heart. You were long over your cheating, good for nothing ex-fiancee, but occasionally on nights like tonight, you felt the hurt once again. Jake takes in your surprise and hesitates for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I won’t give him credit for that, I’m sorry sweetheart.”

You stop swaying, pausing for a moment to stare up at him, and then you can’t help yourself, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say once more. When you pull away, Jake studies you for a while, before he slides his hands up to take yours, suddenly spinning you out, and then back in, where he catches you seemingly with his entire body, hands quickly wrapping you up securely again as you gasp.

“Why so surprised, honey? I’ve never made a secret of how much I adore you?” He teases you, making you stutter.

“Y-yes well, you were usuaully far more subtle about it!” you attempt to defend. Jake’s face breaks out in a grin, but he eyes you sardonically anyway.

“I’m glad my restraint didn’t go unnoticed. I could easily have seduced you away back then,” he tells you wryly. You frown.

“I don’t think that’s true…” you argue, but Jake only smiles.

“Let me believe, honey,” he implores, making you laugh.

You fall into a comfortable quiet then, and happily let Jake twirl you around the dancefloor, shaking off any rust you may have obtained in the months since you’d last been out like this. After once more spinning you away and catching you again, you meet together with your faces much too close to be proper, but you hardly care with the way he looks down at you.

“The moment I saw you sitting in the back of that transport plane, I knew for sure you were my dream girl, you know that?” he tells you breathlessly. “I spent my entire recovery when I was shot down daydreaming about you, rereading every letter you wrote me.”

“You’re just trying to charm me now!” you accuse playfully. Jake chortles, and shakes his head.

“I told all my nurses about you, how I was going to marry you when the war was over,” he says, making your heart skip several beats.

“And all because I fixed your plane up real good?” you ask, unsure how else to respond. Jake raises an eyebrow and fixes you with an amused expression.

“Clearly you don’t grasp how attractive that is.”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“I hope my being unavailable didn’t hurt you, back then,” you say softly, surprised when Jake only shrugs minimally.

“Other than curbing my ability to seduce you, I knew one way or the other things would work out,” he tells you, sounding oddly serious. You blink at him, but cock your head slightly.

“I suppose they have, haven’t they?”

“I knew you liked me,” Jake says teasingly, leaning his face even closer to yours so that your noses almost touch. You roll your eyes, but don’t move back.

“How could I not? I’ve spent the last year feeling like a fool because I thought I’d never see you again!” you reply, lamenting the wasted time.

Jake hums, making you suck in a breath when he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve been looking for you, but I didn’t even know your full name, or if you’d had it changed… But I’d never have left you, not when you never left me, no matter how many planes of yours I got shot out of.”

“Please don’t ruin this moment by reminding me,” you scold him, making the blond laugh. After a few beats of swaying together, you wrap your hands back around his neck and lean into him. You feel Jake’s head come to rest on yours, the both of you looking out at the dancefloor, where you spot Rooster and Bea dancing alongside Pheonix and Bob.

“Who do you think will have the wedding bells ringing first?” you ask wistuflly. Jake takes a moment to answer, humming briefly before he replies.

“Us.” He tells you matter of factly.

You can't help but giggle, and blindly smack his shoulder lightly.

“You’re hopeless!” you say, shaking your head where it lays against his chest. Jake only tightens his hold on you.

“Can’t let those nurses down, can I? They told me I had to marry you if you still hadn’t left me after the amount of times I was shot down.”

Against him you grumble, and poke his neck a little more forcefully.

“I wouldn’t recommend tyring that again,” you say darkly. You feel the man straighten ever so slightly, his head bobbing as he nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He affirms. You stay dancing closely, wrapped up in one another until he speaks again. “Will you come down to base tomorrow, look over my plane?” He asks quietly, and you can’t help but grin. Pulling back from him, you gaze into his green eyes, finding pure hope and adoration there.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction

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charliehoennam · 2 months

Text

A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request. Subtle reminder that my ask open again! Tried my best to sum it up, hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Reader's a pub owner and fianceè to The Alfie Solomons. Turns out she's a bit more than just that.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: Language, Adopted!reader, not proof-read, I think that's it??

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Most people would have been nervous if Alfie Solomons strolled on into their area of business without any notice.

Everywhere he went, his most trusted and strongest lackies followed behind for protection. They were intimidating on their own, but Alfie's dominant presence was enough to make anyone mentally retrace their days, wondering if they'd made their weekly payment for protection or if they'd gotten in trouble with any of Alfie's clan.

You, on the other hand, were not like the others. You remained calm, cool and collected the minute he wandered into your pub.

Despite it being young to the busy street and small in comparison to the neighboring establishments, you had heard many things about Alfie. Only rumors, however, mostly from your drunk clients at the Glass & Barrel.

Some would argue that he was full of himself. Others would make remarks on how he was a form of savior with the jobs he'd given them. A few despised him with all their might for the beating he'd ordered onto them. Judging by what you knew of these specific clients, you knew it hadn't been for nothing.

It was early morning when you hear the doorbell chime. You could hear him mumble on as he looked around at the pub, but couldn't quite make out what he said.

You knew right away who he was. The hat and the cane were dead giveaways, but it was his demeanor that made it clear. And what he did for a living did not sway you in the slightest.

You had expected his visit for a while. It was just a matter of time that he showed up to explain how his method of security works. It was simple. You pay and his boys protect. Extra pay meant he'd place a strong lad in the pub to chase away any unwelcome, rowdy guests.

The first thing Alfie noticed about you when he walked in and sat down at the bar was how unfazed you seemed. He knew at the moment that you were a fearless woman and he admired that.

He assumed you had to be that way, given the dubious characters that milked the bottles from your shelves and the barrels in the basement.

However, there was still a sweetness in you that teased his curiosity. It made him yearn for a woman in such a foreign way that he hadn't felt since he was a young lad.

Since then, his visits became more and more often until you realized he was stopping by about two or three times a week. The funniest thing about his visits was that he never drank anything other than water. It was quite comical.

He enjoyed charming his way into your heart. Every visit consisted of laughter, taste-tests of his finest brews, playful flirting and him trying to convince you to go out on a date with him.

You resisted. Alfie knew that you wouldn't be easy. He could barely imagine just how many drunken fellas have tried their luck with you. The gun you hid under the bar wasn't for nothing.

In fact, your reservation made you all the more special.

He respected your pace and, every time you turned down his invitations, he didn't press you.

"I respect that, love. But a man's gotta try, right? Maybe one day I'll get lucky and you'll say yes."

And he was right. One day, he did get lucky indeed and you finally accepted one of his relentless invitations. However, you requested that it'd be during the day.

You told him it was because the pub made more money at night, but really, you didn't want to give off the impression that you'd be repaying him with sexual favors.

Not that you didn't want to. Alfie's ruggedness was just one of the many features that you admired. You were more than attracted to him, but you weren't the type to sleep with someone so early on.

It was an unspoken boundary, but Alfie understood you better than you could ever imagine. He didn't need to hear you say it and he never forced you or questioned you about it. Truth is he was willing to wait as long as he needed to because he knew it'd be worth the wait. Because something told him that you would be the one.

The chemistry between you and Alfie was naturally cohesive. He cherished every moment he got to spend with you. Every laugh and smile he teased out of you were trophies to him.

Your relationship grew into mutual petting and necking often stolen in secret at the opera, in the corners of fancy restaurants or in the convenient shadows at the pictures. It gradually grew to the point where you finally felt comfortable enough to invite him to spend the night with you.

Alfie was right. It was definitely worth the wait.

He made sure to take it slow as to burn every single second and touch of into his memory. He wanted to make it about you and your pleasure.

Every kiss of his lips burned into your skin. His beard scratched your soft flesh of your as his kisses trailed over your body. His greedy hands pulled and squeezed you tightly, aching to meld your bodies to become one.

He couldn't get enough of you and you couldn't bare to part from him. The softness of his hair when your fingers raked through it, his hairy chest brushing against your breasts and then your back, the moans and groans vibrating from the depths of his core. It was enough to have you addicted to him.

That night with you was unlike any night he'd ever spent with any other woman. There was meaning to this act, deep meaning. You were the woman he loved, the one he hoped to marry. You were the woman that had given him hope to become a father and inspired him to be a better man. Despite being a hardworking man, he felt the lost desire to have a home to return to. Suddenly, Alfie had hope for a future in which he wasn't alone.

Throughout the time he'd gotten to know you, he noticed how you always seemed to stray away when the topic shifted to your family. You didn't lie about them. You told him just enough to satiate to his curiosity that was entirely about your adoptive parents.

The truth was that you barely knew your biological family. You knew who they were - your loving adoptive parents had always been honest with you about your origins - and that you were indeed one of the legendary Shelbys of Birmingham.

You hadn't thought about them for a long time until your now-fiance Alfie was meeting with Tommy Shelby at the distillery.

At first glance, you didn't know who was sitting across from Alfie in his office until Ollie told you and asked you to wait.

You stood outside of the office, away from Alfie's sight. It was clear Tommy was in rough shape. You'd heard about the beat down; you were amazed to see him still walking.

If he recognized you, he didn't make it obvious. He only saw you on his way out of Alfie's office, but he simply walked past you and left the distillery without looking back.

An emptiness hollowed you inside after he left. You wondered if he knew who you were. You wondered if anything would've changed if you had told him. After all these years, you doubted he'd even remember he had a little sister younger than Ada. Granted he was older than you - you yourself didn't remember anything from that time - there was a small part inside you that had hoped he'd remembered, but you had finally been answered.

It'd been a couple of days since you saw Tommy at the distillery. Although it hurt a bit to know he hadn't remembered you, you accepted fate as it was and felt like you could finally put it behind you as if you had finally buried the past.

Until the devil himself walked into the Glass & Barrel, announcing his arrival with the doorbell chime. He paused for a moment and let his eyes scan the pub.

It was early in the morning with only a couple of your regulars: veterans of the war drinking away their sorrows, and Bubba: the large bouncer Alfie insisted to keep inside the pub.

You froze as you watched Tommy take a cigarette before sliding it across his lips to wet the bud. From the corner of your eye, you noticed how Bubba looked at him and sat up alert, instantly recognizing him.

Bubba was a tall man who had gained his nickname for seeming common and unthreatening. You'd seen him in action plenty of times dealing with the rowdy clients to know he was anything but. He could blend into the crowd just as easily as he could fend off four men at once. Bubba always loved a good fight.

You nodded at him to let him know it was alright. He opened his newspaper again, but his eyes stayed locked on Tommy from the far corner.

You treated Tommy as you would treat any customer and offered him a drink.

"Whisky, please," he answered as he sat in front of you at the bar.

"Brown or white?"

"Brown" he nodded watching you move behind the bar. "This place yours?"

"It is, " you answered setting a glass in front of him to pour his drink.

"Nice place... Decorate it yourself?"

"I did."

He nodded and a small sip of his drink.

"You grew up 'round here?"

"Around London, yeah. Moved a bit here and there, but always stayed in London."

"You know, I once had a little sister. She was taken away early from us. My poor mum, she did her best to raise us. We were a bit of a handful. Six in total... Last I heard about her is that she lives in London."

Tommy cradled the glass in his hand and admired the brown liquid, but he could feel your eyes burning through him.

You froze as the realization washed over you. It was no coincidence that he wandered into your pub. It was entirely intentionally.

"Runs her own pub. Seems like that tends to run in the family," he paused and eyed you with a steely steady gaze, as if he could see right through you. "Does he know?"

Tommy felt like he already knew the answer. Alfie would have most likely brought it up during their first meeting if he knew.

"No. I haven't told him. I don't feel it's necessary to."

"I can respect that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're still family."

"With all due respect, Mr. Shelby, I have a family."

"I'm just saying, that's all. If you ever need a hand, you know where to find us."

You didnt bother replying since he was quick to stand, snuffing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar.

He stopped just before the door to set his cap on his head before glancing at you one more time on his way out.

You felt Bubba's eyes boring a hole into you so you quickly moved about, getting back to work. There was no doubt he'd be telling Alfie about this little visit. Tommy's a wise man; Bubba knew his visit was no coincidence despite having not been able to hear your conversation.

The truth would have to come out.

Once Eddie arrived to take over the night shift, you made your way a few streets over to the home you and Alfie shared.

Unlocking the door, you walked inside to hang your coat up. But from the corner of your eyes, you could a familiar shadow standing by the fireplace.

Alfie was never home this early. The lack of acknowledgement to your arrival made you certain something was up.

"Alfie. You're home early," you smiled walking towards him.

"Yeah, I am. I had an urgent matter to tend to myself."

"I see..." you nodded as you slowly drifted over towards him over the wooden floor that now felt like eggshells. Had Bubba told him about Tommy's visit? Had word spread about your relation?

"I heard tommy Shelby went to see you today... Care to tell me what that was about?"

"Before I tell you, Alf, there's something you should know."

As he lifted his gaze from the warm fire, his eyes carried the same softness he heard in your voice.

"I never told you this because I never thought it'd be relevant. But the truth is that I was adopted when I was a child... From Birmingham. I was 12 when my parents told me I'd been a Shelby."

You paused, hoping for some sort of reaction from Alfie, but there was nothing that could hint at his reaction.

"I didn't even who they were until that day I went your office. To be quite honest, I didn't even think any of them remembered me. That's why he came to the Glass & Barrel, to tell me he knew it was me."

Unbeknownst to you, Alfie already knew the truth. There was a doubt in the back of his mind that questioned - if you did in fact know your biological family - where your allegiance would lay and, at this point, it was only growing within.

His doubt consumed him, slowly but surely, over the following days. Everything had changed.

You first noticed that Alfie started missing dinner. After you moved in together, he was always home for dinner.

The mornings you once used to treasure due to the breakfast you shared with him were shared only with the presence of Cyril.

Gone before you woke up and home after you'd fallen asleep.

This night, you decided you were not going to bed. Tonight would be the night you confronted him.

The exhaustion of the day was beginning to set in. Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to read your book, attempting to keep yourself awake.

Cyril, whose head was resting on your lap to be petted, snored peacefully. Blissfully unaware of your brewing angst.

Adrenaline quickly chased away and drowsiness you felt the minute you heard Alfie's car outside. It was now or never.

You waited for him to unlock the door and hang his coat up along with with his hat, still seated on the couch.

Alfie noticed the living room light on as he walked towards it and spotted you on the couch.

"Bit late, innit love? Should be in bed."

"Why are you avoiding me, Alfie?"

"No one's avoiding you," his foot was already on the first step of the stairs. Your anger quickly turned to tears as he proved you right.

"Then stay down here and face me, damn it."

Your hands trembled as you marched towards the stairs. Alfie stopped halfway up them when he turned to face you.

"I did not choose this, Alfie. I did not ask you be a Shelby. I did not choose the family I was born into. But if there's one thing I did choose was you."

Silences lingered heavily. His blue eyes stared down his nose at you. Your chest rose and fell with the adrenaline and flood of emotions coursing through you. As frustrated as you were, you didn't want to hate him. You couldn't if you tried.

Alfie hadn't thought about how his attitude would have affected you. He needed time to think. He trusted you blindly, but not knowing if your allegiance could change paralyzed him.

He watched how deeply emotional you were about his absence and realized that - the same way you chose to leave your biological family in the past despite knowing who they were - he needed to make a choice too.

He walked down the stairs until he stood before you.

"You're right, love," he nodded gazing into your tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah?"

His palm met your cheeks as he cradled your face in his hands.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you really think I would betray you, Alf?"

Your hands wrapped lightly around his wrists.

"For a moment, I wasn't sure if I'm not honest. Fuck, love. You gotta see from my side, yeah? Just wasn't expecting the love of my life, the apple of my eye, to be a Shelby. And that you knew."

"I didn't it mattered, Alf. I'm no Shelby. This is where my family is. In this house, here with you. I'm a soon-to-be Solomons."

"Right, you fucking are," he whispered wiping an escaping tear from your cheek.

"I choose you, Alfie. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, love. C'mere," his arms opened and welcomes you into his embrace. "I choose you too."

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons x f!reader #tom hardy #peaky blinders

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devotedlykoneshots · 1 month

Text

PARK JISUNG: THE LIBRARIAN

Genre:🔞, minors dni, librarian theme, nothing too bad.

Word count: 3706

---------

After ending things so terribly with your family , you decided you needed a change.

A new place to start over.

So you move into a small town and take a job at a book shop.

Soon you would meet the neo fraternity brothers and a special young fella who changes the course of your life and plans forever.

It was two weeks after you began working did you notice the chaotic group of students who frequently came to the library.

Huang renjun was probably the most level headed among the group, you often caught him trying to keep the rowdy ones quiet before you would step in and remind them of the rules but the guy surely had anger issues which he frequently took out on Lee donghyuck.

You're sure the older didn't mind though.

Lee donghyuck was the trouble maker and he loved finding new ways to get under peoples skin, his friend mark Lee was often the target of his endless teasing.

Speaking of Mark Lee, he wasnt as noisy as donghyuck but it was hard not to notice his laugh which resonated throughout the library when he found something funny.

Which was mostly everything.

Zhong chenle was pretty laid back but he was a gossip king, there was nothing that went on around campus that he didn't know about.

Na jaemin was a ladies man, he couldn't help that he attracted a flock of girls everywhere he went, you had to kick him and his guests out multiple times because of his blatant ignorance to the no sex rule.

Lee jeno was also a ladies man but not as bad as jaemin, he wasn't cocky but he was confident in his abilities and he also respected the library rules.

That only left park jisung the quiet guy in the hoodie, he was polite and seemed the most mature out of all his hyungs.

He never spoke up much but you had caught him staring at you on multiple occasions before he would look away and acted as if it never happened.

It was a school night when you had to break it to the freshman that time was up and you had to close the library, you felt bad but it was late and you were in desperate need of a cool bath.

"Ah...I should walk you out" jisung offered and you smiled, hugging your bag closely to your chest and nodding in agreement.

A swarm of butterflies erupting in the depths of your belly, jisung was attractive and no one could deny that.

A crush on the quiet freshman was bound to happen.

"Okay"you agreed and walked with him towards the door.

"Text me when you're safe at

home."he said and slipped something in your jacket pocket, he seemed hopeful and you looked up at him but bit your bottom lip to hide your smile.

"I will"you promised and waved goodbye to him, walking the rest of the way home. Thankfully you didn't live too far from your job, maybe just a 5 minute walk or so.

However jisung wasn't expecting his hyungs to jump from behind a bush and ultimately surprising the unsuspecting freshman.

"Aww jisungie has a crush"he groans in annoyance as haechan pinched his cheek.

---------

The next time you see jisung is at school the following week and he arrived earlier than his hyungs, which you raised your eyebrows at.

"You didn't come here with your friends?"you asked curiously and he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and sitting down in front of you.

"Eh? No, I uh ...wanted to ask you something. Alone."he puts emphasis on the word alone and you became nervous yourself.

"What is it?"you asked him and he looks around to make sure his fingers weren't lurking around a corner before leaning over the table to whisper to you.

"Do you know how to bake?"he asked and you laugh softly at that, quite amused to be frank.

"Yes I do"you tell him and lean forward on your own, not missing the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment before licking his own.

"Can you help me?"he asked as he refocused on your eyes and you lean forward, resting your chin in your palm.

"What are we baking?"you asked him, he smiles shyly and ducks his head as he becomes embarrassed.

"Muffins, mum's having a sale"your heart melts at that and you take a risk, reaching out to ruffle his hair and he hums before looking back up at you.

"Okay, what time should I be there?"you asked as if you knew where he lived.

"I'll pick you up"he tells you and you smile softly, biting your bottom lip.

"Yeah? I'm off tomorrow so give me your phone I'll give you my number"you hold your hand out for his phone and he laughs awkwardly, pulling his phone from his back pocket and unlocking it before sliding it over to you.

"You won't give my number away will you?"you asked jokingly and he smiles, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair before ruffling it again.

"Of course not"he swears and you smiled, putting your number into his contacts.

"Great"you both smile at each other and you hear a bunch of ruckus coming from the entrance of the cafeteria, it's his friends.

"I should go"he said and you tried your best not to look sad but he saw the look on your face.

"I'll call you or text you , or both, yeah I'll do both"you laugh at him again and nod, watching as he rushes off before his friends spot him with you and tease him until the end of time.

-------

Jisung arrives at your place the next day and you lock up behind yourself, getting in the car and smiling over at him. He's quick to tell you it's his friends Jeno's car so if you see any girl clothes it doesn't belong to him.

"Jisung it's fine, I promise"you have to cut him off and grab his hand, stroking his hand with your thumb to calm him down.

He bites his bottom lip as he keeps glancing down at your hands and you're just innocently fiddling with his fingers now, whipping your head to look at him as he traps them in between his own and intertwining your fingers.

You can't help the smile that takes over your face and look out of the window, jisung smiles and keeps driving before pulling into a parking lot.

"Oh, my mom is here"he said and you looked over at him in panic, you weren't expecting to meet his mom so soon.

"Sorry, I didn't know she would be here"he turns and apologizes , you shake your head as you scold yourself for overreacting.

"It's okay, I'm here to help remember"you smile at him to reassure him and he nods, getting out of the car and you get out as well.

He immediately reaches for your hand to hold and squeeze, you look up at him as you approach his mother who was sitting on the porch.

"You must be the girl my son speaks so much about"you blush at her words and look at jisung.

"Mom"he whines softly and the woman laughs, ruffling his hair.

"Thank you for coming to help, chenle just arrived and the rest of your friends will stop by later"she informs him and a look of panic crosses over both of your faces , she only laughs and watches as jisung leads you into the house.

"Your mother is really sweet"you tell him as you both make a beeline for the kitchen, he moves around to grab all of the ingredients you'd made a list of beforehand.

"Hyuck you won't believe who just walked in hand and hand with jisung"chenle gushed , the boys ended up coming over at lot sooner than they intended.

You and jisung are just in your own little world when the guys enter, somehow the boy got flour on his cheek and you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"You have a little something right here"you lick your thumb and wipe the flour off his cheek, he blushes and shakes his head.

"Look at you two, all in love twilight style"haechan speaks up being unfortunately himself.

"Haechan be normal for once , challenge failed"you shoot back and jaemin snorts at that, amused.

"Woah, where did this sass come from? What happened to the sweet Liberian?"he teased and you rolled your eyes.

"I picked it up over time, now are you gonna stand there or come over here and help us?"you asked them, jisung watched in amazement as you bodied haechan.

"Yes ma'am"mark said and immediately gets to work, by work you mean grabbing a bowl and waiting for you because he absolutely had no idea what he was doing.

"Marks like-"haechan speaks, doing a salute sign as he clowns mark one last time.

"Me when a bad bitch tell me to do something, looking real goofy"renjun takes a deep breath and sighs.

"Haechan"said boy whipped around to look at him, the room erupting in pure chaos at his choice of words.

"Yes daddy?"renjun looked nothing short of disgusted, questioning why he was friends with these people for the sixth time this week.

-------

Thankfully you guys finished making muffins in under 5 to 6 hours, with the help of jaemin which you found out was the sole reason why the guys have survived so long without their parents.

The guys invited you back to their place after to unwind and that's how you found yourself trying weed for the first time, it took a couple hits for you to get the hang of it but now you were relaxed and finding a spot next to jisung.

"Is it the weed or are your eyes always this pretty?" You ask and he laughs softly, cupping your chin with his hand and studying your face for a moment.

"You're so high right now"he said before taking another puff of the blunt that was being passed around.

"I've always thought you were pretty"you speak, unable to stop yourself from speaking your mind.

"Pretty goofy"haechan snorts and continues rolling another blunt.

"Don't be a hater hyuck"you roll your eyes but jisung brushes your cheek gaining your attention.

"You're pretty"he states, the weed giving him the confidence to say that and you're quick to act on your instincts.

Your lips moulding together for the first time and he gasps cupping your cheeks, he kisses back for a moment as your fingers run through his hair before he pulls back.

"Mmm- y/n"he pulls away but you chase his lips , your lips connecting once again and he groans softly against your lips before he's pulling away again.

"Get a room!"haechan yelled out and you both pull away , blushing again and not daring to look at the wild boy.

"Ow!"you hear him cry out from renjun slapping him upside the head.

"Shut up haechan"he rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch and you got up from your spot.

"Jisung, come with me"he looks up at you and your outstretched hand before getting up, taking your hand and letting you pull him to the kitchen.

You both end up outside and you sigh at the same time before laughing at you being so in sync.

"Why are you single?"he suddenly asked and you laugh at the sudden question.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around why a girl like you would be with someone like me"he elaborated and you furrow your eyebrows, confused even more.

"Someone like you?"you questioned.

"A nobody, all of my friends are interesting and I'm just...me"he frowned and you cup his face in your hands.

"Don't talk like that ji, not ever. I like you for you, you're sweet and funny albeit unintentionally sometimes but I'm perfectly fine where I am right now because you make me happy"you tell him and he smiles , leaning forward and kissing your lips.

His large hands grab your waist and pulls you onto his lap, you kneel above him and he pulls back.

"So technically I'm your first love?"he asked hopefully and you smiled, his hands sliding up the back of your thighs and squeezing your ass.

"Something like that, yeah."you said breathless and leaning down to kiss his lips again, his hand grips the back of your neck and he forces his tongue in your mouth.

You can't help but moan into the kiss out of surprise and his hands kneading the flesh of your ass, deepening the kiss and taking your breath away.

You whine softly into the kiss and jisung pulls away, panting and closing his eyes to calm down his breathing.

"Jisung-"you gasp as he picks you up once he stands and carries you inside to his bedroom, your face is in his neck as your heart beats faster the closer you get to his bedroom.

"Tell me you don't want this and we can go back downstairs-"he says and you can feel his heart beating just as fast as your own, your back pressed up against the door to his room and you knew in that moment what you wanted.

"I want this- I want you"your fingers tangle in his hair and you kiss his lips with passion, he stumbles back before regaining his balance and pressing you against the door again.

His lips trail from your lips to your neck and sucks, bites and licks the skin there.

You can't help but to moan as he practically devours the right side of your neck before dipping down to leave his marks over your collarbone.

You couldn't believe the shy guy you'd met months ago was now ravishing you up against his door , his name falling from your lips and his hands squeezing your ass again.

You hear the doorknob turn and he carries you inside , shutting and locking the door behind him.

A gasp leaves your lips as he drops you onto his comfy mattress and moves to take the leather jacket off.

"Keep it on" you speak up and he stops immediately, crawling onto the bed and leaning over your body.

"You like my leather jacket that much?" He asked with a smirk and you bit your bottom lip, nodding your head and pulling him down as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"You look so hot in leather"no one could deny that and you certainly weren't about to, so jisung pulls your tank top down and your breasts spill out.

"Fuck- you're so pretty baby" you roll your hips up against his bulge and he let's out a shaky breath, you were already soaking your panties with your arousal and he takes your nipple into his mouth as he sucks on your nipples languidly.

Your eyes close and he moves to your side, still sucking and licking your nipples as he slides his fingers over the damp material of your underwear and you let out a whimper.

"Jisung" you call out to him and grab a fist full of his hair, he sucks your nipple harder and successfully draws another moan out of you.

He can feel your arousal seeping through your underwear and covering his fingers with your slick , his free hand wraps around your shoulder and rolls your unoccupied nipple between his fingers.

"jisung"you gasp and grab his hand , his tongue continues to flick against your nipple and you groan softly.

"jisung please"you cry out to him and he chuckles softly, kissing your cheek.

"I have to prep you first doll"he tells you and you whimper softly, moving around your body to kiss down the expanse of your chest.

"jisung, I need you"you whine and he laughs , lips pressed against your stomach on his descent down your body.

"baby, what did I just say?"he looks up at you with a look in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"I'm sorry"you apologize, gripping the sheets to ground yourself to reality.

"I'm going to remove these now"he said as he grabs the waistband of your pants, your heart beating faster in anticipation.

"just put it in"you say exasperated and he laughs, taking off your pants and licking the outline of your panties.

A new side of jisung that no one knew about, where did he even learn this from? The sweet and innocent boy who helped her bake hours prior, now was making her squirm underneath him.

Your underwear was the last thing to go, leaving you naked and vulnerable.

"tell me you want my tongue"he speaks as he rests his head on the inside of your thigh, using his other hand to trace mindless shapes onto your skin to tease you.

"please jisung, I need your tongue on my pussy."he hums softly, lifting his head and licking a stripe up your core and hearing you gasp.

Jisung doesn't hold back as his tongue flicks against your clit, his lips enclosing around the bud and sucking languidly , his hands holding your hips still and placing a hand over your hips to keep you in place.

Your back arching off the bed countless numbers of times as he brings you to an orgasm with just his tongue, the second time you cum is by his fingers alone and the third is simply by both just because he felt like it and he got too carried away.

You push at jisungs head as he continues to lap at your juices from your latest orgasm, he pulls back eventually and hovers his body above yours.

He places a hand over your mouth as he pushes his cock into you slowly, your back arching at his sheer size but he pushes you back down and delivering a quick thrust into you before he starts to thrust into you.

"fuck"you scream against his hand and your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues to thrust, every thrust precise while his free hand fondles with your breast.

A pull on your nipple has you arching your back before a sharp thrust sends you back flat against the mattress, your nails digging into his back as he fucks his cock into you faster.

He dips his head to suck on a spot on your neck harshly and you whimper, holding onto him tightly before his lips are back against yours and he's forcing his tongue into your mouth.

Your tongues brush together repeatedly as you kiss messily, groans and whimpers leaving the both of your lips.

"I'm cumming!"you cry out and your hips stutter against his own, he quickly pulls out as you cum and watches as your body spasms.

Your hips thrusting into the air before he slips his fingers inside of your cunt and thrusts his fingers at a fast pace, his hand clamping down on your mouth to hide the impending scream you release.

Once you finish cumming you roll onto your side to get away from his fingers but his hands guide you onto your hands and knees.

"you think you can cum for me one more time doll?"he asked sweetly, kissing your cheek and turning your head to kiss your lips passionately.

"Jisung ah-"you whine as he enters you again and starts to thrust his hips again, his hands gripping your hips tightly and trailing his tongue up your spine to lick your sweat.

"ah- jisung, that's dirty"he just laughs at you and thrusts his hips faster, you moan louder at the pleasure coursing through your body and he continues.

He licks the expanse of your back and pulls your head back to kiss your lips again, his fingers rolling your nipples between them and you cry out.

Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum again, your body falling against the mattress completely exhausted.

"you did so good for me"he praises you and kisses your lips, you kiss lazily as he takes your hands in his and guides them to his cock.

You take his cock into your hands and stroke his length, your eyes opening as he climbs up your body.

"be a good girl and finish me off"he said and you stick out your tongue, your lips wrapping around his tip as you suck and he thursts into your mouth.

Each thrust you take him deeper until you're gagging on his cock, so deep in your throat and jisung groans and praises you.

" my girls so good at taking my cock"he moans, fingers tangled in your hair.

"I'm gonna cum"he grunts and pulls out of your mouth, his hand stroking his cock quickly before he's cumming all over his hand and your face.

"fuck, come here"he licks up his mess and you gasp, trying to push him away to stop him but you're no match for his strength and he kisses your lips deeply.

The aftertaste of cum lingers on his tongue and you whimper, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

"y/n, will you go on a date with me?"he asked , the drastic change in his demeanor nearly gives you whiplash and you kiss his lips again.

"That's a yes"you mumble between the kiss and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as you kiss.

"I can't get enough of you"he groans softly as his lips trail down to your neck, you let out a breathless sigh.

"I'm yours, always have been since the moment we met"you speak sincerely and he smiles, you and jisung were as inseparable as you were insatiable that night.

Your love for each other will go down in history, you were just the local librarian who just so happened to have stolen his heart, always and forever.

#nct smut #park jisung smut #nct dream smut

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lostloveletters · 1 month

Text

Little Wing (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Kate "Woody" Woodward and John Brady have it bad for each other, except Woody's convinced he doesn't care for her and Brady's convinced he messed up his shot with her. They prove each other wrong.

Note: Woody and Brady’s first kiss fic yay🤭 Title comes from the Jimi Hendrix song (which is on Woody’s playlist). I know I keep saying this, but I’m so overwhelmed with the response to Woody/Brady, I didn’t expect it at all, and it means so much to me🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies. Suggestive to a point, but not explicit. Light miscommunication plotline.

Darla had been the one who pointed it out. The Texan wasn’t one for biting her tongue, and expressed earlier that day while they were eating lunch with Meg that John Brady wasn’t making himself scarce around the hardstand, or the hangar. Wherever that downed plane of his was while they were working on it, he’d inevitably show up at some point.

“‘S like he don’t think we can fix a damn plane,” Darla said through a mouthful of toast, stale from that morning’s breakfast. The guys in the kitchen knew the three of them weren’t ones to pass up food just because it was a few hours old.

“I got the same thing at my pop’s shop back home. These fellas would bring in their cars and tell ‘im they didn’t want me workin’ on them. Half of ‘em didn’t even know how to change a tire,” Meg agreed, her thick Boston accent making Woody have to strain to understand what she was saying sometimes.

Darla shook her head. “Some ‘a these flyboys, I swear to god they got more swagger than sense.”

Woody didn’t want to tell them that Brady’s frequenting their work area might have coincided with the one day he showed up to check on how things were going, and she apparently struck a nerve by trying to be nice—something she was rusty at despite her best efforts. So he’d hang around and watch, sometimes not saying very much at all while puffing away at his pipe. Made her feel tantalizingly scrutinized beneath his stormy gaze.

His crew were all nice enough guys. A little rowdy sometimes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Still, their pilot’s recent behavior made it tough for her to shake the feeling that he wasn’t all that fond of her. A damn shame, because she had it bad for him. Figured it was the first time she was into a guy who was decent.

Earlier that week, Hambone waited out the English rain in the hangar with her, telling her what he and the rest of them did before the war. Mostly recent high school graduates or everyday working guys. She didn’t find it surprising that the pilot had a degree, but almost couldn’t believe her ears when Hambone told her that Brady was a musician before the war. If anyone deserved to walk around with the swagger most of the pilots did, it was Brady, in her opinion, yet to her, he seemed level-headed and reserved.

She had left lunch with Darla and Meg that afternoon with a newfound resolve to win Brady over somehow. If not for her own sake, then to at least not make her own faux pas the other girls’ problem.

Her quip to Holly about John Brady and his cockpit was mostly for her best friend’s amusement. Anything in her past she’d remotely consider a relationship boiled down to little more than sex. Never exclusive, and never all that satisfying, either.

Woody nearly scoffed at herself. As if he’d want anything to do with a woman like her.

“Evening, Lieutenant,” she said as he walked up.

He sighed, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “You don’t have to be so formal, Woody. It’s just us out here.”

“Bucky and Holly are listening to the Yankees at the Nationals.” She nodded in the direction of the jeep in the distance. “They made some bet on it.”

“I hardly think that counts considering how far they are.”

She hesitated. “If you say so.” Stopped herself from adding ‘sir’ at the end.

The following ten or so minutes were all hers. Pointed out every inch of the plane that’d been worked on since he last came by. Had an answer for all of his questions or concerns. She didn’t miss a single detail, wanting him to know yes, she was serious, and yes, she could fix a damn plane. Got the same thrill she did when she’d tell people how she souped up their cars to race, watching the appreciation and at times disbelief for her work on their face.

“Still got some kinks to work out, but it should be coming along a lot quicker now,” she said.

“You did all of that since yesterday?”

“I can’t take all the credit. Darla and Meg helped out, too.”

He cracked a grin, his pipe between his teeth. “You’re pretty damn good, Woody.”

She smiled. Her heart might’ve skipped a beat or two. “Thank you.”

“You must’ve been a mechanic before this, huh?”

“Here and there,” she said. Eager to steer the conversation away from herself, she quickly added, “You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“I am. I got my degree in music, too.”

“Let me guess what you play…” She folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t strike me as a tuba man.”

The slightest smile worked its way onto his face. “No, I’m not.”

“Way too smart to be playing the triangle.”

“Hey, don’t count out the triangle.”

“You’re pulling my leg!” She laughed, silently proud of herself for not saying 'You're fucking with me' which otherwise would've been her reflexive response. “Alright, I’m gonna make my real guess now.” She pursed her lips as she considered her options. “Clarinet?”

He nodded. “And saxophone.”

“Both? Oh, I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said. “Either. Whichever one you like best.”

“I play with the band in the officer’s club once in a while. You should come by. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there.”

“I’m not an officer.”

“I’ll make sure no one kicks you out.”

“Are you offering to be my personal muscle?” she half-joked.

He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think you need it, but sure.”

“Thanks, John,” she said. “Unless you prefer Jack? Or just John?”

“What do you think suits me?” he asked.

“Well, I like Johnny, if you’re really asking.” She smiled like she was letting him in on a secret, like she knew all along he’d be Johnny to her.

It was her eyes that got him, though. The same green he saw when someone else made her laugh or how just about everyone seemed to have some anecdote about Woody—how she helped them out or told a joke that was just the thing to lift their spirits. But for all of the stories about Woody, the undertones of admiration or outright expressions of desire within them, nobody had one like his. Kissed his cheek without hesitation. Looked at him with those forest green eyes he could lose a hundred years in. Just when he was sure he had his chance and missed it, he was Johnny, and instead of getting lost in that forest, he knew exactly where he was going, how to push his way through and find her.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, staring above them and shaking her head.

Woody grabbed a screwdriver and kicked over a wooden milk crate that had seen better days. She tentatively placed her boot on it, pressing down a moment before stepping up.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t reach otherwise.”

“That thing’s about as flimsy as cardboard,” he said, setting his pipe aside. “You’ll break your neck.” His strong hands were on her hips before he finished speaking. Held her steady as she stood on top of the crate.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

She worked in silence until she stood on her toes, and the crate wobbled ominously beneath her. “I can’t see. Can you get me a flashlight and—”

He squeezed her hips in frustration. “Woody, just do it tomorrow. It’s not worth getting hurt over.”

“Help me down, Johnny?” she asked, turning slightly in his hold, her eyes flashed an unmistakable desire that nearly sent him to his knees.

He kept one hand on her waist, the other holding her free hand as she stepped down from the crate. A flash of red spread across her cheeks, and he was drawn in closer like a moth to flame, following her to the nearby toolbox where she put the screwdriver back in place, double-checking the contents before locking it up for the night.

“You got something…” His thumb brushed just below her lip. They stared at each other in silence, voice caught in his throat before he closed the gap between them, cradling her chin in his hand as he kissed her.

A shock to her system, there was something uniquely vulgar in his tenderness. Past lips on her own had been rough and selfish, part of a song and dance she grew tired of by the time she was nineteen. To be kissed with such care at twenty-three made her skin burn for more.

She grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. Threatened to lose herself in the embrace, almost unsure of where Woody ended and John began.

He caught her bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. She shuddered when he released it and pressed a hungry kiss to his lips, her want betraying her with a soft whimper.

She felt him pulling away and thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. “Johnny, don’t go. Not yet,” she whispered pleadingly, raking her fingers through his hair.

It didn’t take much else for him to give in, losing himself in that forest in her eyes. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Being good,” she answered, “and I was getting better at that until you got here not even an hour ago.”

He smiled, eyes glistening almost mischievously. “Well, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Am I your sweetheart?”

“If you want to be.”

She smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else’s,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Me either.”

#john brady x oc #john brady x ofc #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air x ofc #masters of the air #john brady #mota #mota x oc #mota fanfic #ch: woody

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would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend · 5 months

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jangmo-o???? :pleading:

Jangmo-os may be more than some owners can handle, but the most determined owners may be able to find a great companion in one!

They’re on the heavier side for their size, but overall they are just the right size to be a pet. They may not be the most conventionally cuddly with their fur hardened into their iconic hard scales (Shield), but dragon lovers out there certainly won’t mind. Unfortunately, it is hard to speculate about how friendly a jangmo-o would be to a human. They are social creatures, living in groups and communicating with one another (Moon, Ultra Sun), but they don’t have experience with humans due to the remote nature of their habitats (Moon). However, in the ancient past of the Alola region, warriors values jangmo-os for their “valiant disposition” and lived alongside them (Ultra Moon), so we know that they are to some extent open to getting along with humans if they get used to them.

One really important thing to keep in mind when considering adopting a jangmo-o is that these little fellas are noisy. Jangmo-os use their scales to communicate, expressing their feelings or even scaring away enemies by smacking them together loudly (Sun, Ultra Sun). If you live somewhere where you’re prone to getting noise complaints, I’d look for a different pet! I’ll also warn you that jangmo-os love to rough-house. Wild jangmo-os play fight together all the time by smashing their head scales together, which allows them to grow in both strength and skill (Moon, Sword). This sort of play fighting is important to their development, so I would recommend either adopting multiple jangmo-os that can play together or finding a way to safely play with them yourself. Other species of pokémon, especially those of the hardier sort, might be able to help with this as well. If you’re looking for a gentle pokémon, these rowdy little dragons might not be right for you.

In battle, jangmo-os are exceptionally brave and refuse to back down (Ultra Moon). Thankfully, they aren’t quite as dangerous as their evolutions. Moves like Dragon Tail and Dragon claw take advantage of their typing and tiny battle-ready battles, but they certainly couldn’t be considered lethal by any means. Playing with a jangmo-o (or facing an angry one) may be painful, but it isn’t so concerning that it drags down their score.

Hopefully I’ve been clear that jangmo-os would be a very specific kind of pet, that might not be right for everyone. These critters are loud and rowdy, and love to play-fight, but they aren’t dangerous or antisocial enough to be too much for a loud and rowdy owner to handle. As far as dragon-type pokémon go, jangmo-os are a great option.

#pokémon #pokemon #jangmo o #pkmn irl #PR-B

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sweaterkittensahoy · 1 month

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Since prompts are open again, it's time to launch the Unholy Trinity + Evil Fourth Thing - please gift us with your hc or drabble on the adventures of Bucky, Curt, and Bubbles, featuring their secret accomplice Gale "absolutely batshit, actually" Cleven.

(This is also me enjoying Jack Kidd torment)

The thing is, and I cannot stress this enough: No one ever fucking believes Jack when he says, "I don't fucking care what Bucky, Curt, and Bubbles are fucking doing. Come find me when Buck's tagging along. THAT'S where the trouble is."

And the response is always the same: "Sir?? Cleven?? Calmest, coolest, most disciplined man in this entire air army? Surely he'd be a good influence."

"I need you to stop and think for five seconds, then answer this question: Why would the first three allow a good influence anywhere near them?"

Is Buck a good influence on literally everyone else on base? Yup. Great officer. Top-notch leader. And it's not even that he's a BAD influence on Bucky, Curt, or Bubbles in normal circumstances. Jack will be the first to admit that Bucky would have been in the drink (because Jack threw him there himself) if Buck didn't actually have some ability to contain him.

And Curt, well he's just rowdy like a lot of the boys. And Bubbles, he only gets rowdy if someone's there first. It's not three idiots and a braincell. It's low impulse control (Bucky & Curt) and perfectly fine unless he's feeling a little fighty (Bubbles), and then Buck. Who is a fucking chaos demon turned human by a witch that Jack is certain his great-grandda must have pissed off just before leaving Ireland. It's the only explanation.

Rowdy, Jack can handle all day. Big family, lots of cousins. He's been stopping fights and redirecting energy since he was in short pants. Nothing to it. And, of the boys, Bucky, Curt, and Bubbles are actually pretty okay. The one most likely to actually get into a fight is Curt, and he punches like a mule kicks, so Jack never worries there, either.

The thing Buck brings to the table is a fucking scheming mind. He learned it from his father and doesn't actually like that he CAN come up with a hundred ways to fuck something up if need be. But it was trained into him, and at least it comes in useful for flying. He's glad to put it to use rather than having the skills just itch the back of his head feeling like a really stupid can of worms to open.

But, then, it also turns out that there's types of scheming you can do that don't cause trouble. And can make people laugh. And can lift spirits. And just be fucking funny.

Like when the base got 100 calls in one day because "someone" parked a the Colonel's Jeep up at the entrance to town with a sign on the bumper:

FOR SALE

RUNS PERFECTLY

FIVE POUNDS

And Jack had known the moment he'd heard about it who'd done it. It had Buck Cleven's fingerprints all over it. And, in fact, Jack is certain he knows what happened:

Bucky and Curt drinking.

Bubbles also drinking.

One of them deciding it would be funny if they stole or hid the Colonel's Jeep.

Buck interjected, saying, "Fellas, no, let's not do that."

At which point all bystanders wandered off because, well, Cleven's the responsible one, so fun's over.

And then Cleven thought for about three minutes while the others kept drinking, leaned in and said, "If we do it your way, we get caught. We gotta do it my way."

Agreement. Theft of Army Property. Many, many phone calls.

Jack made sure to be very pissed off when he heard about it.

He also made sure to send Lemmons to retrieve it. Because Lemmons has a face like an angel and can absolutely convince everyone he really did mean to take the sign off the bumper before he brought it back.

While it is sometimes very frustrating that no one believes Jack about Buck, it at least gives him some cover for having a little fun of his own.

He can't play pranks like that. He's Air Exec. And every now and again Buck will meet his eye when a prank goes off with perfection and give Jack a wink.

#air exec daddy is tired y'all #jack kidd #buck cleven #bucky egan #curtis biddick #bubbles payne #masters of the air #the trick to this all truly is that jack didn't want to be air exec #but he is so he'll do it fucking right #but man he wishes he could still fuck around sometimes

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tokkias · 7 months

Text

So I’ve been saying over and over that I want to write a multichap at some point and with me finishing classes before nanowrimo I am deeply heavily considering using that to work on a bigger project. That being said, I don’t know what that bigger project is soooo I’m just gonna put my ideas out there and let you guys vote for what you want to see.

Fair warning, I might not do whatever wins the poll—I might not do nano at all because I’ve been struggling with writers block real bad, but I still wanna get a feel for what we’re vibing with

Option 1 High School AU. Lucy is a new student transferring from Acalypha who has trouble finding her footing socially in Magnolia between her troubled home life and her need for academic success. She finds her closest friend in Natsu, a rowdy, class clown, rugby player. Classic High School AU slow burn shenanigans ensure. Estimated 90k+ words.

Option 2 Modern AU Lucy character study. A “Layla doesn’t die” AU where Lucy tries to balance her relationship with Jude, who wants to reconcile with her after Layla goes into remission, while also balancing her relationship with her best-friend-turned-boyfriend, Natsu, who Jude fucking hates. Estimated 60k+ words.

Option 3 Modern Fake Dating AU. Sick of his family bugging him to find a relationship, Natsu tells them that he’s already seeing someone. When they start nagging him to let them meet her, Natsu claims that he’s dating his long-time best friend, Lucy. Lucy would have no trouble playing along if it weren’t for the fact that she was stupidly in love with him. Estimated 50k words.

#mya's mumbles #nalu

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whoahoney · 1 year

Text

A Girl Called Honey

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie becomes enamored with the new family next door, especially the oldest sister and matriarch, Honey.

CW: 18+, fem reader, mature themes & language, mild(??) child abuse (spanking), parentification, Eddie’s pervy thoughts, reader goes by Honey, Honey is a lil ignorant, fluff, pining, possible eventual smut (we’ll see how this goes)

A/N: the brain child of me and my good ole buddy ole pal, @boomhauer

Boom, this is for you. 🫶🏻🤠🚬🌾

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie and Wayne Munson had just come home from grocery shopping, unloading the cab of the pickup as they heard the low rumble of two trucks coming around the corner of Forest Hills. The two shared a look as the vehicles parked on the front lawn of the trailer beside their own.

The engines cut and the creaks of each door opening only kept Eddie’s eyes glued to the scene. In the truck closest to him, five boys clamored out of the cab and continued a loud conversation as they took in the sight of their new double wide.

“Jeez Louise, fellas—what’d I tell ya?—told ya it’d be nice here!” The driver asked in awe, looking to be the oldest of them. The other four nodded eagerly and mumbled their agreement before running up the porch.

A couple more car door shut from the other side, two girls, no older than 18 and 14 walked up the steps carrying a toddler and a baby on their hips as another child ran ahead of them with squealing laughter.

The older girl looked exhausted, but even in her tiredness Eddie couldn’t help but be taken with her. The younger girl resembled her greatly, but held brighter eyes than her sister.

“Go on, boy, you can gawk later.” Wayne mumbled on his way past Eddie’s frozen figure. Eddie scoffed before looking back at their new neighbors, their houses not even 50 feet apart.

He took in the loads their trucks carried, wondering how they would all fit inside. But he’d never had a double wide before.

Only two more trips out to the car and ten minutes spent putting things away, Eddie took to the porch to smoke while Wayne cooked dinner. The boy would be lying if he said he wasn’t hopeful to see all the new kids living next door, finding them intriguing, especially the oldest girl.

Their windows and doors were open, letting in the evening air and playing loud music. The general rowdiness of the young boys playing was audible from outside, though it wasn’t completely off putting. Eddie had a couple sets of neighbors live in that house, unsavory characters. Any ruckus coming from the house in years past hasn’t ever been good.

But this noise was nice. It sounded safe.

He could barely make out the Creedence Clearwater song as four sets of feet pounded down the steps. The younger boys kept their energy as they ran around the truck and jumped around, throwing playful hits and dodging them expertly while they waited for the older boys to open the tailgates and start handing out furniture to take inside.

“Terry! Tommy! Getchyer asses over here!” The older boy barked as another boy looking to be Eddie’s age set down all different kinds of chairs in the grass as he unloaded them.

The two younger boys, Terry and Tommy, ran on over and grabbed two chairs each to take inside. The older boy hopped up in the back to hand down a coffee table and then the beginnings of a bed frame.

Wayne stepped out onto the porch and took a seat next to Eddie on the worn leather couch, the boy holding out the carton of cigarettes to his uncle.

“S’almost ready,” Wayne said in his drawl, lighting the cigarette between his lips. Eddie nodded and looked back to the next yard to take a drag.

“Janie! Come help Aaron with this?” The boy in charge hollered over the top of the truck into the house.

“Why can’t you??” She asked as she trudged outside, wiping her hands on her paint stained shirt and carefully testing her bare feet in the grass before quickening her pace.

“Cause I gotta get the TV and I told you to, c’mon, now.” The boy grunted as he hoisted the television into his arms and hobbled to the house, slowly losing his grip on it before the oldest girl flew through the door and down the porch steps to pick up the bottom of it and help him up the steps.

“Thanks, hun.” He grunted, stepping into the house.

Eddie and Wayne looked at each other with quirked brows, eyes saying the same thing.

‘What the hell?’

The girl lingered on the small planked porch, leaning over the rail and using the collar of her tshirt to wipe her face. She grabbed her tits and looked down quizzically, Eddie flinching back in shock as she patted down the rest of her body.

“Junior! You gotta smoke?” She hollered with a drawl in her syllables toward the house, her sagging ponytail laying down her back and swaying as she turned. Her feet were also bare, her shirt similar to her sisters as it hit her mid thigh, her gym shorts visible under the hem that rested on the top of her ass.

Eddie’s eyes caught the part of her cheeks that peeked out of the bottom of the blue material, begging to be pinched. He shook his head, taking another drag and averting his eyes back to the bed of the pickup where Janie and Aaron were carrying two pieces of a long and short legged coffee table.

It resembled a dinner table in the way that it was long and rectangular, and it seemed to fit together in the middle to be put away. It was hand painted a sage green, one that made him think of the girl in search of cigarettes.

He heard a distant holler from further in the house, “Nope, quittin’!”

The girl in the doorway looked almost offended with her wide eyes and dropped jaw. She grumbled and turned around, dodging the younger kids coming through. After the boy named Aaron was past her, she walked over to the truck and hopped up in the back, pulling on something from the bottom of the depleting pile.

“Honey!” Janie called as she walked out of the house again with her brothers in tow. The girl in the bed of the pick up ceased her pulling and stood up to her full height.

“Yes?” She asked in exasperation, her hands on her hips like a tired mother. This made the Munson men chuckle.

“The baby shit again and I’m not gonna change him this time!” Janie said with her arms crossed, standing by the truck as Y/n began handing boxes down to the boys, stacking random objects that had fallen out on top.

She rolled her eyes, “You gonna do my job up here? You gonna go keep an eye on dinner? You gonna watch the way you talk to me??” She asked with an attitude and a quirked brow as she stared down at the girl.

Janie groaned and stomped back into the house, holler for her older brother to find her the wipes. Aaron looked up at his sister and shared a laugh. The corners of Eddie’s mouth tugged upward at the sound and the look of her smile.

“Who shoved the stick up her ass?” Aaron asked quieter.

She shrugged. “Aunt Flo?”

Aaron shivered in disgust, “I don’t like it when y’all talk about your lady problems.”

“I didn’t even say nothin’!” She laughed, handing him another suitcase and then opening the one she seemed to be desperate to get to earlier. She rummaged through the contents before groaning and cursing under her breath. She sighed and closed the case as the three younger boys came back out of the house.

“Jun!” She called, hopping down from the truck and walking to the porch, leaning in the doorway to speak to her brother. “You mean to tell me there aren’t any cigarettes anywhere in this place?”

“Jesus, woman, you need one that bad??”

“Yes! Where are they?”

“Don’t got any. Will you hang up the fly bags?” He hollered.

“Fuck you! I knew I seen you throwin them away!” She got louder and marched into the house, shoving past Aaron. The boy stumbled onto the porch stifling laughter as he looked to the next oldest brother and pulled the carton of cigarettes from his pocket.

The younger boy looked mortified as he began laughing in disbelief, surely knowing what his brother was in for. Eddie must have too, because when Aaron looked his way he laughed harder and shoved them in his pocket, “You’re not gonna rat me out, are ya?” He asked his brother and then shifted his gaze to Eddie like he was addressing him too.

The boy shook his head profusely, zipping his lips. “I know nothing.” he adjusted his grip on the box and hurried inside, hearing the clattering and shouting of the oldest boy getting chased down by the oldest girl, “I swear to God, Honey, I didn’t touch your freakin’ cigarettes!”

Eddie chuckled as Wayne smiled and squashed the butt of his cigarette under his shoe, heading inside to check on dinner, Eddie’s gaze going with him. When he turned back forward he came face to face with Aaron, standing a couple feet in front of his porch.

“Hi.” He said, his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, a Black Sabbath muscle shirt on his chest. He had long dark shaggy hair, similar to Eddie’s but shorter.

“Hey!” He said in quiet surprise. There was a silence between them as they took each other in, Aaron catching the art on Eddie’s arms and Eddie eyeing the scars littering the boy opposite him.

“I’m Eddie—“

“—Aaron. But you prob’ly know that by now.” He chuckled as Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, that was pretty fun to watch, not gonna lie.” He chuckled, wiping his mouth and standing to his feet to walk down the steps and lean on the railing.

Aaron nodded and chuckled in agreement, “Yeah, she’s fun to mess with. She gets this angry face every time and she gets so wound up she thinks she’s gotta beat on someone—“

“Sounds like a lot of fun.” Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, well, she’s too serious these days anyway. She used to be more fun but, uh, then she grew up. And we had to move. But, uh, Hawkins should be good, yeah?” He asked awkwardly, staring at his feet kicking pieces of gravel.

Eddie raised his eyebrows, “Depends on your last name.”

Aarons face fell. “Well, sheeit.” He tsked with his hands on his hips. “Guess we’re fucked then, huh? With a last name like Haller.” He shrugged carelessly before they both fell into laughter, Eddie nodding his confirmation.

“You, uh, going to the high school?” Eddie asked.

Aaron nodded. “Senior year, baby. You?”

Eddie nodded. “Yep! Senior year. Third times the charm, right?” He said almost bitterly.

“Hell yeah it is!” Aaron said in genuine support, reaching a hand out for a low five. Eddie raised his eyebrows in slight shock before slapping his hand down on his.

“Do you, uh, if you need a seat at lunch Monday, you can always come sit with us—me and my friends.” He said casually. Aaron seemed to light up a little at the thought. Before he could say anything, his sister was sticking her head through the door and hollering dinner was ready just as Wayne poked his head out the door to tell Eddie the same.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, man. I’ll see you on Monday.” He said before turning to go home.

Eddie smiled to himself as he scurried inside, grinning to himself at the prospect of a new friend and the thought of the girl called Honey.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When night fell, Eddie was back outside, this time on the lawn in an old metal chair, his head laid back, staring up at the sky. He lazily puffed on a cigarette.

Just as he thought about going inside, the screen door creaked open and Honey wandered out. Their porch light was on, the faint glow of it cast across Eddie’s face. She plopped down on the step and sighed deeply, rubbing her hands down her face and hiding for a moment.

“Honey!!” Janie called.

“Jesus, fuck—what?!” She hollered, barely turning her head, her brow stressed and crinkled.

“Tell Aaron and Cal to stop hogging the garlic bread!”

“Tell Jun! I’m off duty for tonight, remember?” She wiped her hands symbolically. “I’m so close to running away, I swear ta God!” She hollered to no one in particular before sighing and finally meeting Eddie’s eye.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, wasn’t trynna be… loud.” She said quietly, her eyes wide and looking almost embarrassed. Eddie shook his head and the hand that held his cigarette, noticing how she eyed it and then shifted her gaze back up to his face.

“Don’t worry about it, really. You guys already seem like better neighbors than the last three before you.” He chuckled as she gave a weak smile and nod. Eddie took a drag and stood from his seat, walking to the corner of the porch and leaning his shoulder on it to talk to her. “I’m Eddie.” He nodded.

She stood and walked over to him, crossing her arms over her chest as she stopped a few feet in front of him. “I’m—“

“Honey!!!”

She closed her eyes and sighed before turning on her heel and taking a few quick steps to the house. “What is it now??”

“Nevermind!” The young boy yelled. Honey sighed and shook her head, walking back up to Eddie.

“I’m Y/n, but everyone calls me Honey.” She held out her hand, her eyes shying away from his though her face seemed hard.

He softly smiled down at her and took her handshake, her hand warm and a little rough for being so small and delicate looking in his.

“What do you want me to call you?”

This caught her eye and she cocked her head in confusion. “Wh—I mean, I guess it’d be weird if you were the only one to call me by my name.” She shrugged.

“Honey it is.” He smiled, their hands still clasped between them. She smiled, sparkles reaching her eyes as she did. Eddie hesitated as he thought of something else to say. “You wanna smoke?”

“Are you-are you serious?” She chuckled. Eddie blushed at her shock and he nodded. “Aw, shit, you must’ve heard me bitchin’ earlier—oh my god, did you hear—“

“You chase your brother through the house? Yep. And it was great.” He said with a laugh as he reached into his pocket and held out the carton for her to pick from.

She sighed a laughter of disbelief as she plucked one from the box and looked surprised as Eddie held out the open flame of his lighter, waiting for her to lean in. She did, her eyes wavering from his to the lighter as she hollowed her cheeks and puffed.

He couldn’t help but smile down at her. When she met his eye again as he put away the lighter, he smiled. “Thank you very much. The moves been—well. More than stressful. I prob’ly got a few gray hairs from it all.” She puffed again.

Eddie chuckled and shook his head, “I’ll bet! Gotta take two trucks to go anywhere, yeah?”

She nodded as she exhaled. “Yeah, but most of us are at school during the day so I can take the little ones to town every once in a while. I don’t have my license though.” She said the last party slowly, only realizing after that it wasn’t information she should share with a stranger.

Eddie chuckled, “I didn’t for the longest, either. I took my test when I turned 18.”

“That’s what I wanted to do! 18’s come and gone, though.” She shrugged.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“Just turned 20, you?”

“19.” He nodded. So did she.

The air between them was thick with silence as the smoked, the sounds of night emerging from the road noise of the evening.

“You go to school?” He asked, her eyes widening at the question.

“Like… college?”

He nodded, taking a drag and stuffing his hands in his pocket. She shook her head no.

“That’s alright! I don’t think I’ll go after graduation, either.” He shrugged.

She nodded but stayed silent. “Do you… like school?” She asked.

Eddie chuckled and hissed a deep breath in, “Absolutely not. But can’t get anywhere without a diploma, Y’know?” He shrugged.

Honey sighed and deeply inhaled her cigarette, her brow crinkling. He tilted his head as the creaky screen door of the rowdy house swung open, Aaron and Janie walking outside.

“It’s just Eddie!” Aaron hollered inside, Cal following after.

Honey groaned softly and turned around as her siblings approached.

“You’ve met my siblings?” She asked.

“Just Aaron—“

“I’m Janie!” The girl said brightly, her eyes soft and trained on Eddie. His eyes only flickered to hers politely and nodded his head with a tight smile, his gaze returning to Honey.

“This is Cal.” Aaron slapped the slim boys shoulder, knocking him forward a bit.

“Good to meet you guys. Where’d you move from?”

“On the southern border of Oklahoma.” Aaron answered before Honey could speak, Eddie catching her mouth open and close with a bite to her cheek and another drag on her cig.

“That explains the accents.” He smirked, meeting Honey’s eye and making her melt a bit no matter how bad she didn’t wanna admit it.

“They ain’t that bad, there’s some people back home you can’t even understand what the hell they’s sayin’ half the time, they talkin’ so fast.” Aaron shrugged, his vowels elongated and r’s hard with his drawl.

Eddie chuckled, thinking of some old men that hung around the gas station in the mornings, drinking coffee.

Honey rolled her eyes and took another deep drag. “Do you go to the high school?” Janie questioned Eddie with intrigue. “I’m in 8th grade!”

“She hasn’t been to public school in a while.” Cal sighed, clearly having had enough of her enthusiasm.

Janie elbowed him harshly in the ribs with a red face. “It’s farther than Honey got.” She muttered, hoping to get the heat off of herself.

Honeys eyes widened as she took her last toke of the cigarette. She clenched her jaw and then exhaled, throwing the butt harshly on the ground and turning on her heel to stomp back into the house.

“Oh, now you done it.” Aaron sighed in annoyance, rubbing his eyes. Cal followed after his sister, concerned or maybe just getting away from Janie.

Janie crossed her arms and brushed it off as she headed back into the house with Cal, “She had it coming, she’s been on my ass all week about the freakin move, I mean, what’s the big deal—“

Cal shut the door behind them, leaving Aaron with Eddie yet again. “I better go make sure Honeys not getting the wooden spoon after her.” He chuckled nervously.

Eddie nodded though he looked serious, “She okay?”

“Who, Honey? Yeah, she’ll be alright, always is. See ya!” Aaron jogged away, calling his last words over his shoulder.

Eddie held a hand up in farewell, glancing to the end window of the double wide, a glowing orange room behind a floral linen sheet that jerked closed as if someone had been peeking.

He sighed, biting his lip and waiting for any other sign of her. Taking one final drag through a sigh, he threw the butt of his cigarette down on the ground, the filter of the camel bouncing right next to the one that had belonged to Honey.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Monday morning, Eddie heard the clamor of his neighbors climbing into the truck belonging to the oldest brother. Junior, Aaron, Cal, Janie, Terry and Tommy made a fuss about their bags and lunch money and sack lunches, the younger kids whining about the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Doritos they’d had every lunch for the last two weeks.

Aaron, Cal, and Janie each received $5 from Junior, coming up short when it came to Cal. “Fuck—Honey! You got 75¢?” He hollered, fumbling with his bill fold.

Honey rushed outside, three coke cans wrapped up in her hair on top of her head and fasted with clips and pins. She wore her large shirt from yesterday and a tattered and faded violet robe.

She held her purse and dug around for quarters and dimes, dropping them in Cals waiting hands as everyone else hopped in the truck. Honey looked at Cal with sincerity and cupped his cheek to get him to meet her eye.

Eddie continued to watch from the front door, waiting to make his exit to avoid bothering them on yet another vulnerable moment.

Honey nodded her head and Cal nodded with her, holding his hand on her wrist as she kept her grip on his jaw. He could see her lips say “I love you, be good.” Before she kissed his head and pushed him away to the waiting truck. He hopped in, and Junior took off hastily, as if he were late.

Eddie checked his watch and found himself late, too, darting out the door in a similar fashion as Honey lingered on her lawn.

The girl jumped at his sudden emergence, clutching her chest in a gasp. “Mornin’, Honey!” He called, shutting his door and starting the rising engine. She couldn’t help but chuckle as she watched him speed down the street.

��── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Honey had been mortified, being embarrassed in front of the cute neighbor boy not only once, but twice in the last 24 hours. She’d wanted to look presentable and take a shower that morning but the alarm clock didn’t go off and she had to see everyone off properly while running a half hour behind.

By the time she’d reached outside, she’d completely forgotten about her state and worried only about her siblings' first days in their new place, out and exploring new parts of the world she’d never see.

When she heard Eddie’s door slam open and caught the sight of his long legs booking it to the dark van parked in front of his home, her heart lurched up into her throat, embarrassment clawing up her cheeks and tainting them red when they made brief eye contact as he leapt inside.

“Mornin’, Honey!” He’d called, his smile making her forget all about the cans in her hair and her ratty old robe.

She replayed the moment over and over in her head all day as she stayed home with the two little ones. Frankie managed to convince her to set up the kiddie pool, filling it with dirt as quickly as his little shovel could.

After he'd spent almost an hour filling the small pool, he asked for the water hose to turn it all into mud, and who was she to refuse on the warm August day?

By the time the sun began to set, Frankie and Randy were slathered in mud, as was Honey. She sat back in her lawn chair, her bare feet buried in the mud that hit her at her mid calf. The cool mud felt amazing on her feet after unpacking and chasing the babies around all day.

She held a Sixteen magazine on her stomach as she slouched in the flimsy chair, listening to the rowdy boys make sound effects with their mouths as they played monster trucks in the muck.

It wasn’t until she heard the familiar rumble of Juniors truck that she realized she hadn’t started dinner. She jumped up at the thought, her heart pounding in her chest as she hurriedly sprayed her legs off with the cold hose.

“Randy, Frankie, we gotta cook dinner, let’s go!” She plucked up the baby Randy and grimaced as he started kicking and screaming, flailing his little limbs at the idea of going inside. Frankie didn’t hesitate to holler his protests as she washed off Randy’s naked and mud corroded body.

Junior pulled up carefully, watching Randy and Frankie as he stopped and cut the engine, all the tired and loud children hopping out of the truck with moans and groans of hungriness and homework, discussing supplies for projects and where to get a trifold presentation board.

Junior walked up to Honey with a hard look on his face as he eyed the two young boys giving his sister such a hard time.

“Gimme Frankie.” He sighed, nodding to the boy still refusing to leave the mud pond he created.

He shook his head profusely, grunting “mm-mm!” as he did. Honey looked the other way when Junior jerked the 4 year old boy up and smacked him once on the butt, shoving him almost roughly towards the hose Honey held flinchingly. “Get yourself washed and get in the house.” He said lowly, the little boy sniffling but nodding in agreement anyway.

Honey washed the boys in silence before hoisting them on each of her hips with a strained groan, “Aw, shit, y’all are too big for this now.”

Frankie laughed as Randy fussed, still not giving up his fight. Honey sighed, using her foot to kick open the door, making it swing and hit the side of the house so she could step in, carefully. As she turned, she noticed the parked van next door, the driver door swinging open and a smiling Eddie stepping out, his eyes already on hers.

Her first thought was her head, thankful for the high ponytail it was in now. She fought a smile as the door shut behind her and she set down the two boys to go start dinner.

Janie and Aaron sat that the small table with their books open, their homework set out in front of them as they stared at it intently. Cal sat at the coffee table, the tv remaining off in front of him as he busied himself with finding the right page in the textbook. Terry and Tommy were already in their play clothes and outside to play, abandoning their shirts and shoes along with their backpacks.

Honey made her round to check on each kid as Junior washed up. She stuck her head back outside and took note that the two boys were in the side yard that separated their property from the Munson’s.

They fought each other with sticks, their chests and faces already having some mud smeared across them in the five minutes they’d managed to be outside alone. “Hey!” She hollered at them, the two unseen Munson men on the neighboring porch turning their heads in alarm as the boys ceased their playful sounds.

“Y’all better stay outta that mud, dinner won’t be long.” She pointed at them, fighting the urge for her eyes to flicker to Eddie. Terry and Tommy whined, asking why Frankie and Randy got to play in the mud and they couldn’t as she ignored them and walked back inside to fix sandwiches and chips for everyone who could bear to eat it yet again.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The stars had come out, the smallest children were in bed, and the older children had finished their homework after two grueling hours of helping Aaron read his English homework and reminding Janie the tenths have to go somewhere in math.

Cal always had an easy time in school, skipping a grade when the rest of his siblings were lucky enough they only got held back once.

Except for Honey.

As the rest of them gathered around the glowing tv set, watching Doctor Who (Cal’s choice), Honey excused herself for a well deserved shower.

Halfway through washing her hair, the water turned cold, though she was used to it at this point. She hurriedly rinsed the rest of the soap from her hair and hopped out to seek the warmth of her room.

She tiptoed across the floor and scolded herself for not grabbing clothes before her shower since the babies were tucked in their little beds next to hers and Janie’s.

She selected some sweatpants and a crew neck sweatshirt that used to belong to her brother, and tugged them on, keeping her hair wrapped in the towel and walking out the door.

Junior sat with his arms crossed at the counter, his hair wet and combed straight back just like the rest of the remaining children. “Where you goin?” He asked as she walked past him and to the door.

She groaned and turned to him, “Outside! I can only take being in a house for so long, June. Or do you forget I don’t get to go anywhere or do anything!” She spat before stepping outside and shutting the door behind her. Honey regretted her outburst but couldn’t take anymore of being checked on like a child when she wasn’t allowed to be one.

She plopped down on the steps, foregoing her chair still parked by the mud pool she’d inevitably spend her day at tomorrow. The towel tugged at her hair as it came unwound. She sighed and pulled it off, scrubbing her nails against her roots to loosen it up and relieve the tension.

“Ahem.”

She jumped and turned to the Munson trailer, the small porch light flickering as Eddie sat on the brown couch that occupied his porch. He smiled warmly and waved, a blush pinching his cheeks when she chuckled and ran a relieved hand over her face.

“Sorry, I was hoping I wouldn’t scare you.” He chuckled as he stood and leaned against the porch railing.

Honey shook her head dismissively, “it’s okay, I’m just jumpy anyhow.” She shrugged.

They shared a silence, the noises of night filling the empty space. Crickets and frogs from the creek in the woods chorused around them, rushing winds from the main road barely audible.

“Care to join me?” Eddie asked, hoping she didn’t hear the light waver in his voice and holding up his half full carton of Camels as he stepped off his porch. Honey smiled and nodded, hoping she hadn’t responded too quickly as he strode over the property line and took a seat next to her on the narrow porch steps.

Honey’s heart vibrated in her chest at being so close to him, so close she could smell him. She could smell something skunky yet earthy coming from him, mixed with the aroma of cigarettes and some spicy cologne, and she couldn’t say the combination was bad. Not bad at all.

And for some reason she found her mouth watering yet feeling prickly with dryness.

“Here you are,” he mumbled as he handed her a pre-lit cigarette and stuck a new one in his mouth for himself. She thanked him quietly and puffed, a sigh escaping her as the nicotine released the tension from her shoulders. “Rough day?” He asked as she leaned her forehead in her palm.

She nodded, chuckling dryly. “No tougher than yesterday or the day before, so that’s nice, I suppose.”

Eddie chuckled this time, thinking she sounded like Wayne. Honey breathed deeply, listening again to the nature of Hawkins at nightfall. She could feel Eddie’s gaze on her as she hollowed her cheeks to inhale the smoke, savoring the woolen taste and rolling it around in her mouth before puffing it out into the cool night air.

“H-How was yours?” She asked. She looked over his face now that she had the opportunity, she’d always been told it was rude to look away from people when she spoke to them. The stubble on his chin and upper lip made her wonder if it was rough, the same question posed to his unruly hair that seemed to frame his face perfectly.

His plush lips curved into a smile before he took a quick toke, the smoke excreting as he spoke. “It was pretty good, actually. Got to hang out with your brother most of the day, showed him his classes—gave a few teachers a heart attack by my attendance alone.” He chuckled. “It’s always nice making new friends.” He added.

Honey blushed and bit the inside of her cheek to conceal her smile as she tore her gaze away. She was too hopeful. Eddie was now her little brother's friend, and she should respect that, right?

Eddie still looked at her, a smirk on his face as he took another drag. “So, Honey—can I call you hun?” He asked, nudging her arm as he turned his body to look at her better. She chuckled and nodded as she smoked. “Okay, hun, what do you like to do for fun?”

Honey mirrored him and propped her back up against the railing, their knees touching and not bothering to move. She shrugged, “I don’t really, uhh, well—sometimes, back home, we’d go swimmin’ in the pond behind our house… there’s a place around the bend—where we’re not allowed to go, it’s surrounded by brush and there’s a small shore with hundreds of little rocks and critters and wildflowers… and a gorgeous tree to climb…I like swimmin’” she nodded when she wanted to roll her eyes at her vowels and her sudden lack of thoughts.

“Swimmin’” he quietly echoed in her voice before a warm chuckle escaped him, “Sorry—s’just cute is all.” He shrugged and took another hit from his cigarette. The compliment heated her cheeks and cleared her thoughts.

“What else?” He asked, his brown eyes back on her.

Honey tried not to melt at the sight, “Uh, well—I just, I haven’t had a lot of time to—“

“Hey, Ed!” Aaron’s chipper voice rang quietly from the screen door as he made his way outside.

Honey sighed and took an extra drag on her cigarette instead of finishing her sentence, her explanation boring enough anyway. She didn’t see Eddie’s curious and lingering stare as she looked at the grass below the last step and the chipped red polish on her toes from the last time Janie painted them.

Adam sat at the top step between them, his Iron Maiden shirt paired with flannel pajama bottoms was similar to what Eddie normally found himself wearing to bed. “Fueling sister’s bad habits, huh, Munson?” Aaron asked as he snatched the cigarette from Honey’s mouth and took himself a generous hit as she scoffed incredulously.

Eddie chuckled and turned more towards Aaron. “Hey, I saw a lady in need, who am I to deny her a smoke?” He said in an accent from a long time ago, like the way Aaron spoke when he talked about the stories he always had his nose in.

Aaron rolled his eyes, “She smokes like a chimney, I’m sure she can go one day without a cigarette.” He chuckled, taking another drag off the stolen cigarette.

“Well when a smoke is the one thing I get to myself around here, I don’t fuckin want to, Aaron.” She grumbled as she snatched the half gone cigarette from him and stomped up the steps and into the house.

Aaron sighed as she thwacked him on the back of the head as she passed, rubbing the sore spot as the door swung shut. “I’m sorry, man, was that like a thing… going on between y’all or somethin?” He asked, leaning to the side to look at Eddie better.

Eddie offered a cigarette out to his friend and shrugged his shoulders. “Nah, I don’t think so.” He said doubtedly. Aaron eyed him suspiciously as he lit the cigarette.

“Yeah, alright. I may be dumb but I ain’t blind.” He snorted, handing back the silver zippo.

Eddie's cheeks heated as he shook his head and poorly repressed a smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Honey didnt bother to go out on the porch the next night, or the night after that. In fact, two weeks would go by before Eddie caught her by herself again. The sun was setting and she was taking down the fresh laundry from the day, a small radio playing Janis Joplin sat on a tv tray nearby with her lemonade and nail Polish.

She had a cigarette in her lips, her brother having brought her some home from work, surely. Her shorts were like normal, too small and adorable peeking out from under her large shirt she wore like a smock at a job.

Her nails were painted a cherry red that matched her hair clip. She was struggling to fold a bed sheet when he strolled up to offer a hand, spooking her as he ducked between the flowing, floral and stained sheets on each line, feeling awfully separated from the rest of the world like this.

“Need a hand or two?”

He chuckled as Honey jumped out of her skin and turned to him with a gasp. Her shock melted into amused annoyance before she nodded. Eddie eyed her over the length of the sheet as she matched up the corners a couple times and walked to meet him in the middle.

“There ya go.” He mumbled as she took the rest of the sheet from him and folded it in front of her. Eddie wished to tilt her chin up with his index finger ever so delicately. But he didn’t.

“Thanks.” She said quietly.

“Any time.” He said, more meaning in his eyes than his voice.

“You, uh, got more cigarettes.” He shrugged as she uncoupled the other sheet, handing him a side without a word. They flicked the cloth, a rolling wave snapping through it before they folded it once in half, then twice before meeting again.

“Jun came through. He always does eventually.” She shrugged as he nodded thoughtfully, the golden hues in his eyes jumping out in the fading orange light.

“Well it kinda took away my excuse to talk to ya, so...” He shrugged like she had, a glint in his eye that told her he’d missed her.

She felt the longing pull in her chest as she hugged the sheet. “Y-You don’t need an excuse to talk to me, Y’know… could just… come knock on the door...” She looked to the ground at her worn bare feet.

Eddie ducked his head to search for her eyes, “Yeah?” His eyes seemed shinier now that the sun had sunk under the horizon and the only traces left of it were pink against perriwinkle.

She looked back up at him, her whole face flushed as she wrung her lips against each other in nervousness and eventually nodded and smiled. “I’d like that. I haven’t had a friend in a long while, Y’know?”

Eddie’s smile faltered for only a second before he fixed it and nodded. “Well, Honey, I’m interested in becoming very very good friends.” He leaned closer and quirked his lips into a teasing smirk.

She sighed dreamily and looked to his lips unknowingly, his smile stretching into a wolvish grin as he got the inkling of a feeling that he may have this girl wrapped around his finger already.

He glanced down at her own lips as she was distracted, noting how pink they were, maybe a little chapped but he longed to know what it was like to kiss every inch of her. His gaze dipped to her chest, the mounds jutting out from her chest and allowing the cotton tshirt to fall straight down and conceal any semblance of a figure.

But Eddie knew better.

He knew she was hiding an ethereal secret underneath that shirt.

His eyes snapped back to hers as she took a breath to say something when she was interrupted by Janie yanking open the last sheet separating them from the inevitable world.

Taglist angels 🦋

@loving-and-dreaming @newshade

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x fem reader #Eddie munson #eddie munson fic #perv!eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x reader fluff

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azures-bazar · 1 year

Text

To His Eyes

Here's a one shot following the lovely request of @bubblegumbitchs-world ! The plot was that buff female!reader was insecure about her body, and Arthur is here to comfort her !

I added a few things to the plot, like Micah being mean (as always). Please excuse all these mistakes or non-sense English terms, some of them make sense in French lol

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader

Word count : 2.8k

Short summary : You always had a stronger build, as far as you could remember. And Arthur is probably your number one supporter whenever you feel down about it !

Tags : Buff woman, Chapter 2, insecurity, cute, you’re beautiful, your muscles are astonishing, Arthur admires and loves you, post Sean’s return party, Micah being mean

"Y/N !" Lenny shouted from the other side of the camp while getting to his horse. "Could you chop some wood ? I have to head to town and can’t do it now ! I’ll pay you back !"

"I’m on it !"

You put down your morning coffee and headed over to the pile of wood Lenny had left for you. You did not mind trading tasks since you knew how busy Lenny could be at times. Charles was away hunting with Arthur, John was still not feeling well, and Sean… well let’s say your favourite Irish Terrier was too busy sleeping it off after last night’s party before his guard duty. You were the only fella suitable for a task you somewhat enjoyed at times. Wearing one of Arthur’s shirts and a plain grey skirt, you obliged.

As far as you could recall, you always had a strong build. You had been stronger than the vast majority of children since a very young age, always carrying the weakest ones around the streets of your town. Dutch found you by chance somewhere in 1894 while you were having some hard time finishing a brawl after a drunk man, displaying a cruel lack of decency, had tried courting you by dragging you close to him. You had pushed him away, resulting in a fist fight, which then escalated to a brawl in the entire saloon. Dutch had dragged you out of the pit and took you to his hideout without questioning anything about your bruise-covered face.

"We need another pair of strong arms, this lady right here will do the trick !" you heard him laugh as you were left with Arthur

Morgan had spent a few hours trying to stitch your wounds, which was something you obviously hated. He had tried catching your attention by getting to know your name, calmly reminding you that you were safe with him, joking about his current torture in order to make you smile. It took you two weeks to get back on your feet and work with the rest of the gang members, performing chores that were mostly assigned to men due to your strength. Arthur unexpectedly fell for you while you were carrying sacks to Mr. Pearson’s wagon, dropping them nearby before adjusting your hair.

Arthur had often found himself staring at you, sketching your movements in his journal while contemplating your beauty. He admired your strength, your shape, your beautiful traits, the way you could easily cut Bill’s speeches about women being inferior to men. Even Davey and Mac respected you for that ! Arthur was quick to find himself dreaming about you, waking up shaken and almost sad since nothing he had seen earlier was real. He had made a very first awkward move to tell you how beautiful you were by slipping a drawing on your cot with a note inviting you to meet him in the middle of the night outside camp. His confession was the sweetest thing you had ever heard as you could tell this brawny man, looking so threatening at times with his heavy Southern accent and rowdy behaviour, was as adorable as a puppy whenever he was around you !

Your affair had started just a few weeks prior to Blackwater’s ferry heist. Arthur often took you to town, enjoying spending time with you at the saloon or taking you to the tailor for you to get better clothes. Your shape was different than the rest of the girls, and you deserved more than a full ocean of gold according to Arthur. Your stay at Colter, holding onto each-other on his bed had brought the two of you close enough to lead you to share his tent at Horseshoe Overlook. At least, neither you nor him would have to walk through the entirety of the camp to see one another ! Surprisingly enough, it was Dutch’s idea to to bring the two of you together, for the better… and the worse, since you were not this quiet most of the nights.

As you finished your chopping wood, you walked around the hideout to carry a few sacks to Pearson’s wagon before stumbling upon Micah, who had left his chair to head to you, smoking his cigarette with a large smile. You crossed your arms on your chest as you wanted him to move aside, but whenever you tried stepping near him, Micah would move and block your way. Meeting his gaze made you regret not begging Arthur to leave him in Strawberry.

"And here’s our strong lady." Micah smirked. "How does it feel to have your clothes directly borrowed from Arthur’s stash ?"

"Get lost." you said as you noticed Karen nearby, who was quick to stop her guard duty as soon as she noticed you

"Must be hard being a lady and having to buy men’s clothes since women’s are too tight."

Ever since the day Dutch brought him in, Micah’s favourite hobby had been to tease everyone around camp, often provoking women. You were his favourite target since you could easily fight back, he had adored the first punch you gave him after witnessing him acting inappropriate towards Mary-Beth.

"'Em big arms are good for a man, but for a lady…-" Micah laughed

"Shut up." Karen said, interrupting him as she noticed you trying to hold yourself from punching him

"In my opinion, ladies built like men shouldn’t be called…-"

"No one cares ‘bout your opinion. Leave her alone."

Micah smirked and walked away as Karen carefully placed her riffle on the ground, taking your hands between hers. Being Micah’s second favourite target due to her overall behaviour, she could not help but feel empathy towards you.

"Are you okay ?" she asked. "Micah’s always a dick with us ladies."

"I’m alright." you smiled. "I… I should get back to my chores."

You quickly walked away from Karen, grabbing a few more bags while making your way to Pearson’s wagon, doing your best to avoid Micah who kept looking at you from his seat. His sole remark about your arms made you vanish under a wave of insecurity towards your own body. You looked at the girls, analysing their beauty while they were apparently stitching a skirt.

It had always been easy to notice that your body type was a little different from theirs. Your muscles were more defined and larger, you were in a perfect shape since you were active most of the time, only sitting down three times a day as you were doing so many things around camp. When you were not doing chores or hunting, you could be sent outside to rob some shops. You were never truly resting, always being active, which caused your muscles to remain as defined as they were.

"Damn." you grumbled

You found yourself envying the girl’s various body shapes. From Karen’s beautiful curves to Tilly’s thin corseted waist, the way Molly held herself, how sweet Mary-Beth appeared… Micah had made you highly doubt yourself, despite your overall shape never caused you any trouble earlier. In fact, you were proud of it, despite having to borrow some of Arthur’s tightest shirts at times since the ones the girls were wearing were not fitting or could be uncomfortable for your daily tasks. Your body was different and, despite you felt insecure about it, everyone loved the way you looked.

The girls admired you, you were strong and beautiful ! You were kind and so sweet, with a precious porcelain heart anyone could notice. Men around camp adored your implication into chores, you often demanded more to keep up, frequently asking anyone if they needed help. Even Bill was always amazed by the way you could do things the rest of the girl couldn’t. But your number one admirer and probably best support was Arthur, and nobody could deny it.

You were his everything, his sweetest girl, his darling lady he would love until his last breath. He loved having you rest into his arms, drawing circles on your back, massaging your scalp while whistling a few old melodies his father had taught him decades ago. He adored the sight of you wearing his shirts since most of them were too large for you, drawing your portraits by night when you were asleep. He loved seeing you wear pants and skirts, dresses or even rags. Every single thing you were wearing suited you, and he was quick to remind it.

"M’lady, you could wear a tent as a dress and a flower pot as a hat, everything suits you !" he often said

You kept doing a few chores around camp, barely noticing Arthur and Charles were back from hunting. After giving some meat to Pearson, Arthur’s very first gesture was to gently kiss your forehead. Instead of spending time with him, knowing that your chores were done, you decided to withdraw inside your tent to get some rest and untie your corset, wanting to take it of for the rest of the day.

Since he came back to camp, Arthur could not take his eyes away from you. He could easily notice something was wrong, he could feel it. Just by the way you held yourself, or how quickly you headed to your tent, closing its flaps behind you. Whenever he would come back, even after a few hours, you would spend the rest of the day with him, sitting on his knees by the fire, singing old ballads with him, kissing him under the ocean of stars above your head… but not that day.

Arthur had left his current conversation with Javier and Sean to head to your shared tent, calmly clearing out his voice before entering, not wanting to walk in while you were getting dressed. Indeed, he had seen you naked more than once, but he did not want to have anyone look inside the tent while passing behind him, just out of curiosity. Sean was quick to do it at times, but no one had the right to see your body bare but Arthur.

"Can I come in ?" he asked

"Yes."

You sighed as you took your shirt off, moving your arms back to reach the laces of your corset. Ms. Grimshaw had given it to you a few days after you arrived, she had worn it years ago when her shape was a little similar to yours. It fitted you perfectly, but you wanted to take it off, feeling the need to wander around camp without it for a few minutes. A dress and one of Arthur’s shirts would certainly do the trick !

"Hey sweetheart." Arthur said, walking inside as you were untying your corset. "What’s wrong ?"

"Are my arms really this big ?" you asked, dropping your corset on the ground

"What ?"

"Am I built like a man ?"

"What the hell are you talkin’ about ?"

You turned back to Arthur while dragging a skirt out of your chest, putting it on over your chemise as he approached you, looking concerned. You stepped back, wishing for an answer first. You could easily spot Arthur’s confusion as his eyes were quick to speak for him. You proceeded putting on one of your shirts you usually would wear for the evening. It was a tailor-made blue blouse Arthur had bought you back in Blackwater. Your favourite.

"Just… just tell me if I’m built like a man." you asked, being suddenly brought to tears

"Of course you ain’t !" Arthur laughed, believing you were joking. "What the hell, Y/N ? Haven’t seen a man lookin' as feminine as you yet !"

Arthur’s reaction made you chuckle, but tears were quick to make their way out of your eyes. You hid your face behind your shaking hands as you started crying, doing your best to mute yourself. Micah’s comments were repeating themselves in your poor mind, causing you to break down into pieces despite knowing how beautiful you were, and how amazingly you were built.

"Oh, princess… c’mere." Arthur said, opening his arms to greet you

"I’m sorry, I’m…-"

"C’mere."

You walked forward and threw yourself into Arthur’s embrace, burying your head in his shirt, allowing yourself to cry against him. One of his large hands made its way to your hair while the other one kept caressing your back. He kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes.

"Lemme guess… Micah’s been sayin’ shit."

"Mmmm-mmmm…" you hiccuped

"I’m so sorry he’s such a bastard…"

"It ain’t y-your f-fault…"

Arthur kissed the top of your head, feeling deeply saddened about your the way you felt. He was sorry for leaving you alone with Micah, he was sorry for bringing him back to camp after what they did in Strawberry. On a few occasions, Arthur would deeply wish to go back in time and stop Dutch from leaving camp on the day he would encounter Micah. Life might have been easier without him around, the Blackwater’s botched heist would never had taken place, and you would not be crying into his embrace by now. However, there was one thing which made him outrageously devastated, one single thing which was quick to bring him to tears : witnessing you being insecure about your body.

"It’s alright, sweetheart." Arthur whispered to your ear as you clung onto his shirt. "I got you."

Needless to say, Arthur adored your body. He would run his fingers on your toned arms, on your back, on your calves, and often admire how beautiful you were. You were his main subject when it came to sketching people. You were so inspiring, inside and outside ! Whatever you were doing, Arthur loved it. To his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. A large shining sun which was blinding him with love. You were the beautifulest gem of his crown, his pride and most certainly one of the main reasons why he was still alive. There were no other women like you, so sweet, kind and caring, so gentle and so strong, eager to help anyone, whatever the situation was. He loved you for who you were, and the rest of the world did not matter as long as he had you by his side.

It took him about five minutes to calm you down. You left his embrace after some time, he firmly held you by the shoulders, looking into you eyes with a large smile. You could easily feel lost when your eyes would meet his, they were the main reason why you fell in love. His puppy glance won you over so often that you could not even count the number of times you had forgiven Arthur’s attitude and manners. His beautiful green eyes were quick to show you all the support you needed, you knew Arthur was quick when he had to cheer you up, just like you were with him.

"You don’t have large arms, and you ain’t built like a man." Arthur smiled. "You’re literally a greek goddess or somethin’. You’re perfect."

"You’re saying it because you like me."

"First of, I ain’t likin’ you, I love. And secondly, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, period. I love your body, I love bittin’ your well-shaped muscles when we’re in bed, run my fingers on your body… I love you, as a whole."

"Arthur, I…-"

"If you don’t believe me, lemme try something. SEAN !"

You gasped, hiding behind Arthur while buttoning your shirt above your chemise as Morgan called for Sean a second time, you heard him scream from the other side of the camp. He was probably eating some stew or was drinking a whiskey before going on guard duty, and would not hesitate to look between your tent flaps if needed !

"Oi ! What’s it, English ?!" Sean shouted

"Ain’t Y/N beautiful ?!" Arthur asked

"Oh, ya ! One of the most beautiful women of that damn country with Miss Jones !"

"Shut up, Sean !" Karen laughed behind your tent

"See ?"

This overall interaction made you laugh. Arthur turned his head back to you and gently lifted your chin up for you to meet his gaze one more time. This time, he was blushing. Just the sight of you smiling at him was quick to make him believe some butterflies were flying in his stomach. You were such a gorgeous woman, even Sean, being in love with Karen, was quick to confirm it !

"Darlin’, you know you’re so beautiful when you smile." he mumbled

"Thank you, Arthur."

Don’t ever let Micah make you feel like that. You’re a beautiful woman, the most beautiful I know. Nobody should convince you otherwise.

You nodded, allowing Arthur to drop a soft kiss on your lips before embracing you one more time. Your confidence was still hurt, but Morgan’s words were so encouraging and genuinely filled with love that Micah’s comments were quick to be forgotten. You nuzzled your head into Arthur’s neck, allowing him to kiss your forehead. You felt protected, you felt loved. You did not need anything but Arthur at this moment.

To his eyes, you were beautiful. And nothing would change his mind, nothing.

Nothing.

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