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pia-nor481 · 5 months

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Champion of the world

Max Verstappen x reader smut

3.1k words

Max had preformed so well this year. He won races and was on the podium often and yet he couldn't help but feel anxious. Max was one of those people who often bottled their feeling and thoughts up, thinking it was the best idea, when in fact, it was not. They were sat in his red bull drivers room before the start of the race. "Max it will be okay, you'll do amazing like always. You've spent so much of your life racing and preparing for racing, it's your time." Her words didn't soothe him all that much, no matter how right she was, nothing would get through to him. "That doesn't mean I'll win, anything could happen on the track, no matter how good of a driver I am. There could be a safety car, someone could crash into me, the engine could fail or a really slow pitstop." He always made it worse for him self, yes all those things were possible, but it didn't mean it was all going to happen and ruin the race. He still had a chance of winning the championship. She looked up at him, trying to hide her disappointment in his statement, he was sat above her on top of what was the most uncomfortable 'bed', while she sat with her legs crossed on the floor, she enjoyed max looking down at her, regardless of the context.

They where in this position often, every race she turned up to, Max was on the top step of the podium, he knew it was superstitious, but he felt as though she was a good luck charm. Monaco was the first race she attended, rushing down from their flat towards the paddock after spending a little too much time in bed with Max. They'd ended up in his drivers room once again, her pulling the zip of his race suit up, not without him running his hands over her body. They quickly made a rule, if she was dressing him, he could undress her. It often lead to her freezing adorning just underwear. It made max relax, and she'd do anything to ensure that. But it max didn't win, even if he left covered in champagne and walking away with a trophy, it didn't seem to be enough.

So Max would lock him self in his so called 'office' of their shared flat and worsen his eyesight by staring at a screen. He would spend said time analysing data and strategies, or watching previous races trying to see where he would lose time, and then use the sim for hours on end. Max would barely leave the room, Jimmy and Sassy would often scratch at the door wanting their owner's attention, but would hardly get it. She would be left to look after his cats, and try to look after him. She would try everything possible to make Max leave those four walls, mainly make him some sort of meal, depending on the hour. First she'd call out to him, and get no response, then she'd text, again no response. Finally she walk straight into the room and just place the plate on his desk, hoping he might actually acknowledge her. But he never really did. Of course Max appreciated everything she did, he just wasn't overly connected. Most nights she'd go to bed with out him, and be woken up at an ungodly hour upon feeling the bed dip slightly, but when she would reach out in the morning, his side of the bed would be cold. Although the dishes she left in the sink last night were washed, there was no trace of her boyfriend anywhere. Not even in the sim room.

Around three hours later, Max would come back drained, clearly coming back from what was a particularly difficult training session. His kissed her on the lips before promptly walking toward the bathroom. She knew that he wouldn't be seen again for a while. This became a cycle for the couple. Until it was Saturday, post qualifying was always a fun time. Max usually felt better about racing when he was starting on the front row. This usually fixed the slight drift in their relationship; Max became a lot more aware for what he was doing, the proper term would be neglecting, but it would take him a while to come out of this hyper focus and begin to look after himself, and his girlfriend of course. He wouldn't leave her side, man felt so debilitated because of his actions, then he often would feel his heart thumping loud in his ears. His cortisol levels would have been sky high, a long with his disappointment in himself. He couldn't believe that she would still be loving and caring towards him, after all he had been putting her through this year. She must have felt so lonely, so unloved, and yet she would still kiss him like there was no tomorrow. She never turned him down because she loved him dearly.

"I love you, thank you so much for everything, you honestly don't know how much I appreciate it, appreciate you." It seemed like a simple sentence that would be written in cursive inside of a birthday card, yet Max meant every word. It would clear the stress of points was getting to him. He was so irritable and angry, he couldn't sleep and constantly had headaches even paracetamol could cure. It was daunting to see her boyfriend in such a way. "Max, just come to bed, please, I'm struggling to sleep without you here." She already had to settle with out cuddles, max felt as though he got too warm in bed, but now having to sleep without him. It was becoming too much. "I need to win the next few races, I don't want to get far behind in the points." Receiving 12.5 points in Belgium wasn't particularly helpful in this situation.

"Give me a kiss before you go." She almost begged as Max stood up, the national anthem was going to start soon and so he needed to be out in the pad ok by now. So he pulled her closer by the waist and connected their lips. She gripped his upper arm in the process, just wanting to feel him once again. They stayed like this for a few minutes, not wanting to let go, she may have not realised it, but Max felt most relaxed in her presence, feeling her helped the most though. "I love you"

The race was horrifying. Abu dabi was already a tricky race, that coupled with a safety car was not great for Max. He was however, capable of over taking Lewis Hamilton, and thereby won the race. Elated was all Max could feel, finally he was able to take a full breath and smile, he finally felt relaxed in away; stress free. He was practically screaming down the radio. Max was the world champion and he was ecstatic. After coming down from the high of a win, max decided he wanted another. You wouldn't think Max verstappen would be overly fond of a quicky, due to his nature of trying hard and making things perfect, that should take time, but it was something he enjoyed, the thought of getting caught was such a turn on for him. "Come here." He stated, grabbing her, not overly rough, that however was not his thing. Covered in champagne, Max pulled her back towards his drivers room, and as soon as the door was shut he pulled her close. His mouth immediately attacked her neck and she moaned out, running her hands up his body and into his hair, tugging on it slightly. "Don't start, baby."

Max was angry, the fact he had to ask on multiple occasions if they were sure he won was most likely the cause. He liked to be dominant, he always was, in every aspect of his life. He slid his hands over her back and under her ass, pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his hips, he gently, as possible, placed her on the bed of the room. Max didn't let go, he was being possessive. His hand constantly made contact with her skin. Just as he slid his hand between her thighs she moaned out, "Please Max." Everything he did always felt good, she felt it through out her whole body. She pulled the zip of his race suit down and began palming his cock, he groaned at the feeling, becoming a little more loud than usual. "Please Max, just fuck me already." She knew they were running out of time, he had places to be.

As Max slid in he felt as though he was losing all control of himself. With every thrust of his hips he got closer to ecstatic, he reached down again, putting pressure on her clit, making sure she was getting as close as he was. Her moans echoed through out the room as Max sped up, rubbing faster circles on her skin. "Feels so good." She was losing the ability to form coherent sentences, thoughts too, Max knew she was close and wouldn't leave the room until she was satisfied. "Cum with me, love" He practically moaned out, leaning closer to her body. With her eyes still rolled to the back of her head, Max pulled out slowly, almost rushing to pull his clothes back on properly. She sat there for a while, watching Max, she was so happy to just be around him, that much was clear with the smile on her face, she was so blissed out, not that Max was surprised. They'd not had sex for a few weeks, so she'd not cum in a while. Once he didn't look disheveled, he began to kiss her lightly, wanting to provide some form of comfort before he had to disappear for interviews and debriefing. "I've got to go, love" he spoke softly as he shifted closer to the edge of the bed, and so, he kissed her and help do the buttons of her top up. "I know, I'll go back to the hotel and get ready, it seems like we have a lot of celebrating to do." With one final kiss to the forehead before walking towards the door. She knew that going to a club tonight wasn't nonnegotiable, they would all be getting immensely drunk.

Once they got off of Max's private jet, they practically rushed towards their flat. Max hooked his arm around her neck as they approached the front door, he was yawning the whole ride over, Max was exhausted, not physically but mentally; the stress of the season was really affecting him. "Talk to me, please, love." She looked over to him as the words left her mouth, she placed her phone and keys on the table and looked at him again. "About what?" Max looked a little on the pale side compared to normal, yet he still tried to give her everything he had. "How you are actually feeling, I hate to say it, but I'm going to because I love you so much, you seem to be so worn out, you need real rest, and yet I know you will be in that sim room, trying to improve your already amazing performance." A small trace of defeat laced her words, Max did become a tad bit displeased with the statement, but he didn't have the strength to be more than so. "Everyone thinks I cheated, as if there's a point of racing. There's no point in winning if I didn't try for it; and I know I've put in so much effort. I spent the better half of the year on the sim, I've had to get new glasses I've been staring at that screen for so long. But that's not even the worst part... I've driven you away in the process. I've been an awful boyfriend and no doubt made your life so much harder. I'm so sorry,love."

He felt so relieved having got that off of his chest, with rather loud sigh and a fall of his chest, Max walked towards her again, He rested his head on top her. "Oh Max, I love you, I'm not going to leave just because you were busy. You wanted to win and you definitely deserve it. You're right in the sense that locking yourself away for so long wasn't fair on me, but I knew how much you wanted this. And if it was going to make you happy, then it would make me happy." He was almost in tears. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other. "You need to relax." She said, feeling his finger tug on her top slightly, before his hand slipped all the way up her chest. " I think I know how to relax." He smirked, grabbing her wrist and lightly pulling her towards their bedroom.

She pushed his chest lightly, forcing him to lay down on the bed, she enjoyed the feeling of warmth against her finger tips, Max's touch was divine. He began to sit up, reach out for her body. Her hands made contact again, while she spoke, "I don't think so." Her tone was teasing, she wanted him to feel good, he wanted to feel good, but she would control the when. "Oh, please, love. Don't tease me." Her hands slid over his torso, feeling every divot and muscle, the sensation was intense; max let out an exasperated sigh. As she climbed into his lap, she could feel his hard cock, it was almost painful. She palmed him once again, changing pressure to ensure he would be on the edge. He was practically moaning, the loudest she had ever heard him. "Be good." She whispered out, as his cock jumped. They had never discussed the possibility of Max having a praise kink, although he definitely deserved all the praise in the world after this season. "Did you like, hm? Do you like me calling you good? Or do you like when I tell you what to do?" Max's chest was rising and falling rapidly. "Answer me, Max." It didn't come across as aggressive, yet it was still demanding. He was shocked with himself, never did he think giving someone else completely control of his body would be so marvellous. She began to stroke his cock faster, slowing down every few moments to tease the tip, edging him further. "Yes, yes to all. Please, Love. Let me cum." He was virtually begging as she liked along the underside of his cock; the precum leaked heavily, and so she began sucking him dry. "Uh, yes." He could feel the sensation through out his entire body, and could hold back, her mouth quickly filled with his cum.

Max was panting as he sat up, making eye contact with her in the process. She leaned forward, kissing his neck, giving him as much attention as possible, he didn't cheat, never, not in any aspect of his life, he loved everything too much. He loved her. Her so called kisses left bright red marks all over his pale skin. "Sit back, baby." Max moved back towards the headboard, still blissed out and a little coherent; in the meantime, she slowly stripped of her clothes, giving him a little show while he caught his breath. Max's gaze shifted back towards her and he felt his cock harden again almost immediately, blood was rushing through his body rapidly. A lazy smirk dawned his face as she straddled him again, stoking him a bit before sitting down fully, taking him whole in her cunt. Her eyes rolled back temporarily at the feeling, it felt like he was in her stomach in this position; his hands rested firmly on her hip while she got used to the feel of the stretch. Max didn't have to say anything, she could tell by the look on his face, and the hunger in his eyes, that he felt euphoric, just being inside her.

"Fuck, Max, feels so good." He felt almost cocky at the statement, he didn't even have to do anything and she was already moaning. Max shifted slightly, bending his knees in an attempt to thrust his hips up, but her hands came down from his chest to stop his movements. "No, why won't you listen to me? I said you're not doing any of the work, and I mean it." As much as Max like control, he also liked to please. She began to lift her hips up and then down rather slowly, easing Max into it, without overstimulating him. She was already squeezing him tight, so it was hard for max to resist, he was desperate, desperate for her, desperate to cum. Her hands gripped the headboard for support, allowing her to fuck him faster, he moaned out as she leaned forward, almost coming off his cock completely. It all felt too good, they were both edging on ecstasy, so much so that Max's grip only tightened, leaving marks on her skin. Her hands came down from the bed and onto his chest as she began to ride him even faster, his eyes closed and mouth agape, he felt his legs start to shake slightly. "That's it, so good for me." She practically huffed out as his breath hitched. Max came hard, he could feel it through out his whole body; legs shakes, head thrashing with his eyes rolled to the back of his head, a choked out moan bounced off the walls in the process.

After riding out his high, her arms came down as she went to rest her head on his chest, silence filled the room for a moments as they both caught their breath. Her hands trailed over his body once again, this time, in a slightly less erotic way, a more comforting act. His hands slid up her back and into her hair, playing with it, this was an act they both enjoyed. "I love you." She knew that. “I’ll be better, I promise.” Light laughter filled his ears, “Max, I love you so much, don’t doubt that.” A smiled covered his face, he not only promised her, but himself; he felt terrible for what he did and so would never do it again. He could not treat her in such a way.

#f1 x reader #f1 x reader smut #f1 smut #33 max verstappen #max verstappen x reader smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #MV:33

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commanderyes · 2 months

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The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

#guild wars 2 #guild wars 2 fan art #guild wars 2 fan submission #snargle gutslurper #commander yes #that's all folks #thank you for everything #keep loving yourselves okay? you're worth it #all of you #see you in the game :)

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domjaehyun · 2 years

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KISS U RIGHT NOW (L.MK)

pairing. mark lee x fem!reader genre. some fluff, smut word count. 6.9k contents. kissing, breast play, fingering (receiving), oral (giving), unprotected sex

summary. in which mark just really wants to kiss you. alternative summary. five times mark wanted to kiss you and one time he actually does.

notes. happy (belated) birthday @najaemarkl !! this fic is based off the song ‘kiss u right now’ by duckwrth 🥰

saturday.

Mark thinks he might be going insane.

Mark is standing in the middle of this party on a Saturday night, red Solo cup in his hand, surrounded by dancing bodies, among which there are undoubtedly several girls who would go for him.

Mark is standing in the middle of this party, and all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss you, his best friend.

monday.

It started as an inkling these past couple of weeks, but it got a little stronger on Monday, a persistent nagging feeling as he watched you in the back of your shared Linguistics class. You’d knocked your dangly earring out in your hurry to raise your hand and answer a question your professor had asked, and were currently preoccupied with lightly dragging the point of the earring hook against your lobe in an attempt to find the piercing hole.

There’s something about the soft tilt of your head, the focused look on your face as you devote your attention to putting your earring back in, and the way the tip of your tongue peeks out in concentration that has Mark seeing you in a light getting further and further from platonic by the day.

He wants to feel your tongue against his lips, wants to caress that space of your neck you’re thoughtlessly exposing to him with his hand, feel the soft skin under his fingertips, tilt your chin towards him and lean forward to connect your lips. You’re nibbling at your bottom lip now as you write something down in your notes, and Mark bets you wore that lip balm he’s always loved the smell of, unbeknownst to you due to his never mentioning it, and he wishes he could just lean over and see how it tastes—

“Mark!” You whisper, placing your hand on his thigh just a centimeter above his knee, and Mark jolts out of his stupor, meeting your gaze with a sheepish tint to his cheeks and ears that he prays you don’t notice or ignore. “I asked if you have correction tape? I made a mistake.” You frown and Mark almost spirals all over again at the sight of your bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he just wants to kiss over and over until it goes away in favor of a smile.

“Uh, yeah—I definitely do,” He stumbles over his words as he roots through his pencil case and finds it, passing it to you. Your hands touch, fingers brushing the other’s palm, as you take it from him with a grateful smile, and Mark knows you definitely don’t think much of it, but he’s thinking about how soft your hand is, how warm, how he wishes he could just reach over and hold it for no reason other than the fact that he wants to.

Mark’s not sure if this wave of wanting to kiss you is going away anytime soon, but he hopes it does—for his sake.

tuesday.

Mark’s inkling, his persistent nagging feeling, turns into a whisper on Tuesday, accompanied with a phantom tugging sensation that he fears might literally pull him towards you for more than comfort when he comes over to your dorm, as requested, to see a very sad and teary-eyed you sitting on your rug dejectedly. He almost drops the takeout bag he carefully carried from your favorite Chinese food restaurant to your dorm, and he cannot afford such a financial loss, so he clutches onto it protectively.

The glossy look in your eyes, lashes, now wet with tears, clumping together, your pouty bottom lip—that damn lip—trembling slightly with the weight of unshed tears, and the occasional sniffles you let out almost make Mark drop the damn takeout bag, the male floored by how pretty someone can look when they cry. He approaches you carefully, settling down on the rug beside you and folding his limbs in somewhat clumsily. When you look over at his struggle, a small chuckle escapes you, and Mark’s heart clenches at the sound, eyes sweeping over your frame to assess any physical injuries you might have. Finding none, Mark sighs in relief and slumps back, his head resting against the side of your covered mattress.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mark asks softly. You hadn’t specified what was wrong in your distress signal text; you only sent “SOS,” your and Mark’s Best Friend Code for “come over and bring comfort food,” and Mark readily complied as soon as he caught sight of the notification banner; he’s not sure if this is a symptom of being hopelessly whipped for you or just a testament to the strength of your friendship.

He’s pretty sure it’s the former, as another glance at your tear-streaked cheeks sends his poor heart lurching again, but Mark really hopes for his sake that it’s the latter.

“No,” You mumble, sniffling twice before meeting his gaze with wide, shining eyes that, to Mark, are just screaming for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. “Just need you here.”

“I’m here,” Mark promises, and sets about opening the takeout containers and laying everything out as nicely as he can, even using some textbooks from his backpack and your desk as a makeshift table. “I got your favorite.” He says hopefully, spearing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips expectantly. You laugh softly, the sound fond, your cheeks lifting into a smile as you lean forward, accept the forkful, and chew, relief taking over your body as Mark watches you visibly relax.

You slump against Mark’s arm, resting your head against his shoulder, and Mark prays you can’t hear the pounding of his heartbeat which sounds out loud and clear in his own ears. Mark drapes an arm around your shoulders and tries not to stiffen when you turn yourself inwards, tucking yourself into his side and humming softly, tries not to let his desires take over and give in to the tugging feeling that urges him to nudge your head up with his own and slot your lips together.

Mark really isn’t sure if he can hold out much longer.

wednesday.

Wednesday almost has Mark caving when you two lie on his bed, watching movies on his laptop. You’re so close, the side of your thigh pressed up against his, hips brushing, shoulders touching, and Mark knows it’d be so easy to turn and press his lips to yours.

To make matters worse, Mark’s eyes keep trailing down to your chest, which moves every time you laugh, and by the time you’re engrossed in the film, Mark’s lost interest entirely, instead opting to study your features and reactions. Try as he might, Mark’s eyes continue to wander down to your breasts, shamefully gazing as if looking hard enough would grant him the feeling of what it’d be like to touch you.

Mark’s finally coming to accept that he wants to do more than kiss you; far more, actually. He wants to touch you, hold you, be intimately familiar with the taste and feel of you—

More than anything, though, Mark wants to love you. If you’d let him. He wants to make you smile, laugh, understand the meaning of love songs—he wants to spin you around in the rain and leave kiss after kiss against your lips and trailing down your neck to your collarbones. He wants to buy you thoughtful gifts and watch your eyes light up; he wants to be the one to wipe your tears and kiss everything all better.

He wants, firstly, however, to know if you even want that from him. He hopes you do. Overwhelmed by his thoughts and unshakable desires, Mark reaches up and fitfully runs his fingers through his hair, no doubt messing it up. He mumbles a quick apology when his sudden movement causes you to jolt in surprise, looking over at him. To his confusion, you don’t look away yet, observing him for another moment before leaning towards him.

Is this it? Is this the moment Mark’s been dreaming about for ages? He can barely contain his excitement, reflexively nibbling his bottom lip out of nervous habit, and he tries to remember to breathe, to relax, there’s no good in kissing someone who’s stiff as a board—

“You messed your hair up,” You murmur distractedly, reaching up and ruffling his hair, adjusting it until he looks presentable. “All better,” You say sweetly with a soft smile, and Mark wants nothing more than to cup your face and kiss you over and over and over until your smile is so wide he can’t kiss you anymore.

Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him? Mark hopes you don’t, because that would be uncharacteristically cruel of you.

“Thanks,” He forces out a small chuckle, and your brows furrow instantly, of course they do, you know each other like the back of your hand.

“You okay?” You ask curiously, a tinge of worry in your voice, and Mark nods reassuringly. “You sure? You can talk to me about anything, you know.”

As Mark successfully de-escalates the situation and redirects your attention to the movie, he can’t help but think that there are, unfortunately, some things he might be better off keeping to himself.

thursday.

By Thursday, Mark doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his feelings in. He’s driving down the road, endlessly pursuing the night if it means staying by your side, and you’re sitting right next to him, content as can be.

“Were we supposed to be turning soon?” Mark asks, and you look over at him, shrugging.

“I dunno.”

“You’re riding shotgun,” Mark chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel and looking over at you. “You’re in charge of directions.”

“Nuh-uh,” You counter, furrowing your brows—very cutely, Mark thinks to himself—and turning slightly to face him better. “I’m a passenger princess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mark snickers, and you nod firmly, settling back into your seat.

“Yep,” You reply, popping your lips on the “p.” “I’m in charge of looking pretty and maintaining the good vibes.”

“Well, in that case, you’re doing an excellent job,” Mark replies with a laugh, barely registering his words until they’ve settled in the now thick air between you two.

“…Did you just call me pretty, Mark?” You tease, reaching over and tugging at his pinking ear.

“Don’t distract the driver!”

“Answer my question!”

“Maybe I did.” He admits, and you smile widely, flipping down the mirror and checking your reflection. Mark steals a glance while you do, studying the slope of your nose, the curl of your lashes, and the faint pucker of your lips as you reapply your lip balm, the faint but pleasant scent of cherry Chapstick wafting past Mark’s nose.

He’s never been one for cherries, but he can honestly say he’s never wanted to taste them so badly in his life.

“Why, thank you, Mark.” You don’t yet look at him, fixing your hair in the mirror before flipping it back up, and Mark’s eyes rove over your face with an almost hunger, drinking in your beauty as you sit beside him, entirely unaware. When you turn to look at him, he shifts his gaze back to the road as if he’d never been looking, and you hum thoughtfully, picking up your phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth speakers in his car. “Any requests?”

“Nah, play what you want,” Mark offers. “I trust your taste in music.”

“Mark, you’re just killing it with the compliments tonight.” You say gleefully, stretching your legs out before you cross one leg over the other. Mark can see the faint line of muscle in the side of your thigh, and he wants so desperately to run his fingers along it, press his lips to the indentation, leave kisses lower and lower and back up until his mouth grazes your inner thighs— “Who are you practicing on me for?”

“I’d never use you as practice,” Mark replies indignantly, offended that you’d even suggest such a thing.

“Sorry,” You stress the word with a playful lilt as you raise your hands defensively. “Was just asking.” The car falls into a comfortable silence between you two as the song you picked plays in the car speakers. ‘Crush’ by DUCKWRTH sounds throughout the car, and Mark can barely hold back his chuckle at just how apt your song choice is.

He’s crushing, and he’s crushing bad.

He can’t help but steal glances at your bare legs as he drives, eyes gravitating towards that damn muscle, and he’s moving before he knows it, reaching over to you with his closest hand. He wants to stop, pretend it never happened, but he’s more than halfway to you and to stop now would mean an awkward retreat of his hand back to his lap, and he doesn’t think his pride could handle that.

He swallows hard and pushes past his worries—literally—and pats your knee comfortingly, his hand almost trembling under the feeling of your warm, soft skin under his palm.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Mark echoes his sentiment from earlier. “Use you as, like, flirting target practice or something.” He hopes he sounds sincere because he means every word.

You have no idea that you’re the main event to Mark.

You smile at him, eyes bright, and place one hand on top of his, patting it gently and leaving it there. Mark’s over the moon, floating on cloud nine, and it’s a miracle he can stay focused on the road and not swerve off from how frazzled his thoughts have become.

“Passenger princess?” He calls to you, and you hum in acknowledgement, half-turning to look at him. “Can you go above and beyond your job description and look up the directions, please?”

“Mm,” You hum thoughtfully, tapping your chin with your index finger of the hand holding your phone. “I guess I can do that.” You answer finally, shooting him a teasing grin before unlocking your phone and devoting your attention to it.

To be honest, Mark could drive for hours aimlessly if it meant getting to keep his hand on your leg and you by his side.

friday.

By the time you two get your food, eat it in Mark’s car, and drive somewhere to relax, it’s well past midnight and officially Friday, the night enveloping you two in its cool embrace. As soon as he puts the car in park, you’re leaping out of the passenger side door and making your way to the front of the vehicle.

Mark can’t help but chuckle as he gets out of the car and heads over to where you’re standing at the precipice of the overlook, all the city lights twinkling in the night.

“It’s so pretty,” You sigh dreamily, the lights reflecting in your eyes, and Mark can’t help but agree, his gaze only on you. You’re practically bouncing on your heels with excitement, bounding back over to his car and carefully sitting on the hood, crossing your legs at the ankles.

“It really is,” Mark echoes, but he’s still watching you, mentally hyping himself up for his next move. Swallowing thickly, he throws caution to the wind and walks over to where you sit, standing so your knees push against his hips.

Mark’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t for you to uncross your ankles and hook them behind his legs to pull him closer to you. You release him almost immediately, the moment fleeting, but the mischievous grin on your face sends Mark’s heart lurching as he wants nothing more than to cup your face and press his lips to yours.

“What’s wrong?” You ask curiously, and Mark blinks out of his daze.

“Nothing?” He winces inwardly at how defensive he sounds, and by the unconvinced look on your face, you’ve picked up on it too.

“You’re biting your lip like you do when you get all…in your head.” You point out, tapping his chin lightly, and he swallows before releasing his poor bottom lip. “Let me in there, Mark.” You say softly, reaching up to trace light circles on his forehead. “What are you thinking?”

I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so bad that it hurts, Mark groans internally, but says nothing yet. In an act of boldness he’ll surely regret later, he loops his fingers around your wrist and brings your hand down to your lap, slowly slipping his digits between yours. You smile down at your linked hands fondly, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and Mark thinks for one hopeful moment that you want him too.

Mark looks up from your hands, pushing away the thoughts of how nicely they fit together, to see that you two are much closer than he thought; your eyelashes are close enough to count, and he can smell that fucking lip balm that drives him insane. A shaky breath leaves him before he can stop it, a breath of anticipation, of hope, of—

“Mark!” You laugh incredulously, and he jolts, sheepishly refocusing his gaze on you. “You disappeared again.” You murmur fondly, releasing his hand and trailing your fingers up his arm to tickle the back of his neck lightly.

“Sorry,” Mark mumbles, nerves sitting tight in his throat, a lump he can’t seem to swallow, and you shake your head dismissively, smiling up at him.

“Will you take me with you next time?” You joke softly, and he nods before he knows he’s doing it, his body so tuned into you that he’d give you anything you want without a second thought. “Good.” You sigh, content, and Mark makes another bold move, acting on his desires for the second time tonight—third if you count his touching your leg in the car—and stepping closer until his knees hit the bumper, placing his hands on the car on either side of your body to tentatively trap you in.

Your bright eyes look up at him curiously and, if he’s allowing himself to indulge in his thoughts, challengingly, as if daring him to take the step he so desperately wants to. His chest swells with anticipation, his eyes slowly dropping down to your lips, and he thinks for a moment about leaning in and biting the bullet.

But flashes of your panicked, nervous, even disgusted possible reaction to him have Mark popping the balloon of hope suddenly, an awkward laugh forcing itself out instead as he leans back from you slightly, freeing you from his embrace.

“You’re welcome anywhere I go,” Mark assures you.

Your responding smile almost soothes the ghostly chill of rejection Mark imagined.

Almost.

saturday. (again.)

A cracking noise startles Mark out of his thoughts, with him quickly coming to realize that his grip on his cup has tightened considerably, denting the cup. He’s about to go and toss the cup, having lost his taste for the drink inside, when he hears his name being called from behind him.

“Hey, you.” Your voice cuts through the sounds of the party with ease, and Mark turns his head as your arms wrap around him in a tight backhug. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothin’, really.” Mark answers, shrugging casually.

“I ask because you love this song, and yet you were just standing in the middle of the floor like a statue.” You snicker, and he balks, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Oh, nothing, for real; just thinking about school.”

“Thinking about school on a Saturday night? Don’t we come here to do the exact opposite of that?” You tease, and he chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Come with me to the bathroom? I need you to stand guard.” You grin widely in an attempt to convince him, and Mark fights back the urge to chuckle.

You have no idea that he’d do damn near anything for you.

“C’mon.” He murmurs, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow just a step behind him, Mark’s hand ghosting along the small of your back as he guides you through the many bodies. For a brief second, Mark loses you, the feel of your back slipping away startling him into turning around to see you a couple of feet back stuck behind a kissing couple.

He moves back towards you, hand returning to your back as you graciously lean into him, and continues making his way through the crowd, keeping you closer to him than before. Your hand grips the hem of his shirt—Mark guesses it’s so you two don’t get separated again—and Mark’s hand accidentally dips under the hem of your shirt, fingertips briefly grazing the bare skin of your waist. His mind reeling, Mark moves his fingers and, if you notice, you say nothing, readily following him upstairs to the bathroom.

When you two reach the door, the last thing Mark expects is for you to pull him into the bathroom with you, the sound of the door clicking shut finally letting the situation sink in.

“Are you sure you want me in here—”

“I’m not actually using the bathroom, Mark.” You laugh, leaning up against the sink and inspecting your reflection. Mark watches as you pull your lip balm from your pocket and apply it to your lips, and he can’t help but wonder if you’re doing this on purpose. “I missed you, y’know.” You hum thoughtfully, and Mark makes a surprised sort of sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, trying and failing to hide his incredulity.

“Yep,” You confirm. You turn to face him with a (very cute) frown. “Did you not miss me?”

“No—I mean yes, of course I did—”

“Then why wouldn’t I miss you?” You counter, and he presses a hand over his face, laughing despite his building nerves.

“You just love messing with me, don’t you?” He chuckles, and you shrug, lips curling into a beguiling smile.

“I like pulling you out of your head, Mark.” You say. “I like knowing what you’re thinking.”

Mark thinks that it’s basically now or never; when else is he going to get the opportunity to tell you how he feels?

“You know, lately, I’ve been thinking about—” Mark starts off boldly, but he cuts himself off at the last minute, still unsure if he wants to take that forward step and possibly ruin your relationship.

“Mark, you’re always so in your head.” You chuckle fondly, leaning in towards him. “Thinking about what?”

“Thinking about…kissing you.” Mark finishes slowly, and the look in his eyes when he looks up from his shoes to meet your gaze is a look you’ve never seen from him before. He steps towards you, your feet inch back reflexively, and this continues as he slowly backs you up against the countertop, his hands coming to rest by your hips on the sink, carefully closing you in.

“Oh, yeah?” You hum, blinking slowly at him, and your lips curl into a small grin.

“Yeah.” Mark’s serious—more serious than you’ve seen him in a while—and the intensity in his gaze has arousal stirring in your lower abdomen as you watch him intently.

“And how long have you been thinking about this?” You ask softly, voice low and curious. Mark chuckles finally, looking away from you for a moment before answering you.

“A while.”

“How long is a while?” You press.

“Couple weeks.” He answers, knowing he’s severely lowballing it, and you roll your eyes, nudging his thigh with your knee.

“And you never thought to tell me this because…?” You question, and he shrugs dismissively.

“Didn’t think you were interested.” He replies, and you nod thoughtfully.

“Ah.” You say. “That’s stupid.”

Mark lets out a small chuckle as he leans even closer to you, his face closer to yours than it’s ever been. “Don’t make me laugh right now.”

“Why not?” You tease, gently poking his stomach and trying to mask your surprise when you feel firm muscle as opposed to the squishiness you expected. “You can kiss me, you know.”

“Stop talking,” Mark groans, his brows furrowing, and you grin at him mischievously.

“Or what?” You’re lifting up onto your tiptoes, leaning in closer to him and stopping just before your lips connect. “What if I don’t?”

“I’ll make you.” His words thrill your mind and the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips thrills your body, your blood starting to buzz in anticipation.

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise?” You know Mark well enough to know he needs to be goaded into boldness, and you’re just the right person for the job.

“Whichever you want.” His voice is throatier, huskier, and almost unbearably attractive.

“I want you to shut up and kiss me already.” You lightly bump the tip of your nose against his, a wide, excited smile growing on your lips.

“I can do that.” He breathes, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you in and finally connects your lips. The kiss isn’t an explosive fire right away, but a slow, warm one that builds steadily to an inferno as you two get used to the feeling and taste of each other.

Mark’s mind is reeling, finally getting to taste your lip balm, which is almost as delicious as the unique taste that’s just you, and he thinks for a moment that he could probably stay there forever with you.

Before you can even process it, Mark’s kissing has morphed from cautious and hesitant to heated and passionate, and his hips press against you, pushing you against the countertop of the sink more insistently. His fingers on the back of your neck slip into the hair on your nape, tugging not-so-gently at the locks. When you softly gasp in surprise, he pulls back as if you’d shocked him, eyes wide and apologetic.

“Is this okay?” He asks worriedly, and you scoff, leaning into his embrace.

“Yes, Mark. Didn’t I say something along the lines of ‘less talking, more kissing?’” You huff, and he grins, pulling you back against him to slot your lips together once more. “You don’t have to be gentle, Mark—I can take it.”

“God, you’re gonna drive me insane.” He groans under his breath, sounding strained as he obliges and presses you against the countertop roughly, hands flying to your hips to lift you, guiding you on top of the sink. His lips detach from yours and start descending down your neck, sucking and licking, his fingers digging into your hips as he moans against your skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He grunts, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your sweet scent as he presses his lips to your skin over and over.

“That feels so good, Mark,” You hum, content with the feeling of Mark’s mouth working away at your neck.

“Can I—?” He starts, but you cut him off.

“You don’t need to ask about everything, Mark,” You chuckle fondly, pulling your neck away from his lips in favor of running your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?” Mark mumbles worriedly.

You nod. “When have I ever missed out on an opportunity to complain about something?” You say playfully, and Mark relaxes visibly as he laughs and nods in agreement.

“Good point.” He murmurs, and you smile sweetly as you pull him in for another kiss. “In that case,” Mark says in a low tone, lips pressed to yours, “I’m gonna indulge for a bit.”

Before you can ask what he means by that, he’s yanking your shirt up and over your head and discarding it thoughtlessly on the floor, his hands finding your waist and slowly gliding up to your chest, where he cups your breasts and squeezes, kneading them and tugging gently at your nipples through your bra.

Without his having to ask, you reach back and unclip your bra, shrugging the straps off and letting the garment fall off of you. It lands between you and Mark on the floor and Mark looks down at it, up at you, down at your bare breasts with wide eyes, then back up at you in awe.

“Damn, you’re incredible,” He groans, his hands eagerly massaging and caressing your breasts as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest towards him. His lips attach to your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your chest, where he takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan lowly and tip your head back, hissing when his teeth catch your sensitive bud, tugging and releasing before swirling the tip of his tongue around it and sucking. He cups both of your breasts in his hands, pressing them together, before rolling his tongue over your nipples, moving from one to the other eagerly and punctuating his surprisingly skillful swirls with gentle nips.

“Feels good, Mark,” You sigh dazedly, a lazy but content smile curling your lips, and he groans, the sound low in his throat, in response, sucking at your nipples with more fervor. He bathes your chest in wet kisses, groaning louder when you whine plaintively.

His hand leaves your breast to snake between your bodies and unbutton your jeans, pushing into your underwear and stroking along your folds, parting them until he reaches the fleshy pearl of your clit. Your hips jolt at the touch, Mark releasing your nipple from the warmth of his mouth and moving up to kiss you as you rock down on his fingers.

His fingers, thicker than you expected, push past your entrance, two digits curling inside of you and eliciting a pleased hum from you. He slowly fucks his fingers into you, your walls slick and tight around them, and he can’t help but think about how tight you’re going to feel when he’s finally inside of you.

“Right there—” You whimper when he hits a spot that has your toes curling, and he chuckles, diligently thrusting his fingers into you repeatedly as your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and making him hiss. “Sorry,” You pant and he kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly, an unspoken acceptance of your apology. You turn his face to yours and kiss him full on, Mark moaning against your lips as your core flexes around him.

You’re practically riding his fingers at this point, breathy whimpers escaping you as he strokes along your inner walls, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Mark, ‘m gonna—” You moan, and he nods, flicking his tongue into your mouth and kissing you through your climax, the liplock turning sloppy and clumsy as your lips part to moan his name and a string of swears.

As soon as the aftershock trembles disappear, you’re pushing him back gently, creating enough space between you two for you to slip off the sink and sink to your knees.

Mark thinks he could faint at the sight of you looking up at him, opening his pants with one hand. His cock aches at the prospect of your mouth wrapped around it, and he tilts your chin up to look at you better.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Mark assures you, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that, Mark.” Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and he hisses. “I want to.” Your mouth is around the head of his cock without a moment to prepare himself, and Mark swears—loudly—his head tipping back and thumping against the wall behind him. Mark whimpers, both in pain and from pleasure, and your giggle tickles his ears as you pull off of him and pump his length up and down, positioning yourself above his length to drip a trail of spit down onto his tip, working your fist over it to lubricate your movements.

Mark blinks down at you in awe, shuddering when you take his length as far into your mouth as it’ll go, the tip of your nose pressed against his stomach as you swallow around him.

He whimpers when you start bobbing your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock with every movement. His breaths are ragged, chest heaving, blunt nails scratching uselessly at the wall behind him, and he curses when his hips buck up of their own accord, sending his length further into your mouth. There’s a moment of bliss when he’s smoothly sliding into your mouth only to be topped by a second of ecstasy when he hits the back of your throat, which flexes around him and drags out a groan of delight from deep in his chest.

“Sorry—” Mark whispers, poorly restraining the urge to thrust into your mouth. You pull off slowly, swiping your tongue over your lips to break the string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip, and when you speak, your voice has a slight rasp to it that has Mark’s eyes practically rolling back into his head.

“Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Mark?” You ask with a beguiling smile, your hand slowly stroking his length, and it’s all he can do to stop his knees from buckling right now.

“I’m not gonna last if I do,” He warns you in a choked voice, and you frown.

“But I want you to finish inside of me.” You huff petulantly, and he groans, gripping your wrist to stop your movements.

“You can’t say that or I’ll cum right now.” He complains, and you roll your eyes.

“Then I’ll finish that later.” You decide, and Mark successfully contains his surprise at the prospect of doing this again with you. You stand back up and Mark’s hands move to your hips, the gesture almost second nature, before he’s gently pushing you back so you’re pressed up against the sink countertop. He nudges himself between your legs and brings the thick head of his cock to your entrance, gliding it up and down through your slick folds to collect your arousal. “Mark, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time.” You chuckle, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Well, sorry for wanting to take my time with you.” He mumbles, and a fondness spreads through your body, your lips curling up into a sweet smile. He pushes into you slowly, and you hiss at the stretch, your best friend being more well-endowed than you expected. “Told you I should slow down.” Mark wants to gloat, but his heart seizes with concern at the look of discomfort on your face.

“I’m fine,” You answer stubbornly. “Just—give me a minute.” Mark nods and rubs comforting circles into your hips, bringing his lips to your neck to press sweet kisses from your ear to your shoulder and back up again.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Mark urges against your skin, brushing his parted lips along the spot behind your ear, and you sigh blissfully.

“You can move,” You murmur, and he thanks the powers that be as he pushes forward into you, bottoming out and feeling the tight wet warmth of your walls wrapped around him. Both of you let out a moan, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder, and he pulls out before starting to thrust into you, deep strokes reaching every spot inside of you that makes your mind go blank. “Shit, Mark,” You cry out as he fucks into you with all the desperation and desire he’s been restraining for the past weeks.

“You like that?” He chuckles breathlessly, pulling back slightly to reach between you two and massage your clit, and you nod with a whimper, rolling your hips against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Me too,” You breathe, and he’s so surprised he almost fucks up his rhythm, sending you shifting back on the sink with a particularly powerful thrust. “Fuck—”

“Sorry, I’m—I can’t,” He moans, pressing his fingers against your clit harder and angling his hips so he can drive his cock into the spot that makes you roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“Mark, please, I’m gonna—” You gasp, and he nods, kissing you again to silence your moans as you both climax, your walls tightening around his length almost painfully as he pumps spurt after spurt of cum into you. He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, the corners of your mouth, your cheeks—anywhere he can reasonably reach.

He pulls out of you carefully, his chest heaving as he catches his breath and tucks himself back into his clothing. The air is thick and silent as Mark starts to spiral; are you coming to your senses? Experiencing some sort of post-nut clarity? Are you about to tell him you two can never be together and that he’s ruined everything—

“Wanna get food and watch a movie at my place?” You ask, turning around to face him. You’ve adjusted your top back into place and are in the process of zipping and buttoning your jeans.

“Y-Yeah.” Mark mumbles, half-dazed, half-relieved.

“Great! C’mon.” You say with a smile, washing your hands and leaning against the door as he does the same. When he’s finished, you take his hand and open the bathroom door, ignoring the stares you two garner as you leave. As you lead Mark through the party, he can’t help but hope things stay this comfortable even in the morning.

sunday.

When Mark wakes up on Sunday, his mouth is drier than he ever remembers it being, his head feels like someone’s drumming on his temples, and he can barely get his wits about him quickly enough to take in his surroundings. All Mark knows right now is that there’s sunlight streaming in from the window beside the bed he’s lying in, he is not in his bed, and the person lying beside him is still asleep—

Hold on.

Mark turns his head carefully, lifting off of the pillow to look beside him so he doesn’t make any noise at all, and—it’s you.

At the sight of your sleeping frame, your back to him, Mark feels himself go limp with relief—well—almost everything on him goes limp, but one thing remains very, very…stiff.

Mark is now trying to piece together everything that happened last night, and the realization of what exactly went down hits him like a freight train, damn near knocking the wind out of his lungs in an involuntarily sucked-in breath.

Flashes of the night before start to run through his mind; his hands on your cheeks, your waist, your breasts, grabbing at your hips, his lips following the trail blazed by his lustful fingertips, the way your mouth felt wrapped around him—his cock—nestled deep in your folds—how tight you were, the pretty sounds you made—

Mark remembers damn near everything, but he can’t remember how it ended. Did you hate him for taking that forward step? Did he fuck up the relationship between you two? Did his lust get the best of him and potentially cost him his best friend?

“You really are so in your head, Mark.” Your sleepy voice remarks softly, fondness and amusement audible even past your just-woken croakiness, and hope fills Mark’s chest as he turns his head towards you. You’re now facing him—Mark wonders when you did that without him hearing, but figures he was so distracted by his thoughts that he must not have noticed—and smiling sweetly, tired eyes twinkling nevertheless, and Mark thinks it’s insane that you’re every bit as lovely when you’ve just woken up as you always are—maybe even more so. “Good morning,” You greet with a small chuckle.

“Morning,” Mark mumbles, his thoughts still racing. “Did—last night, did I—was that a bad idea—?”

“I’m happy,” You cut him off pointedly with a wider smile than before as you stretch your limbs, a small groan escaping you as you relax again. You look over at Mark and raise your eyebrows in question. “Are you happy?”

“I’m fuckin’ thrilled.” Mark rushes to get the words out, feeling like he can’t reassure you quickly enough, and your eyes scan his face before you laugh, and the sound is so free, so void of worry, stress, concern—

You’re not stressed in the slightest, so maybe Mark doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“I like you here with me like this,” You muse lightly, looking over at Mark with warm eyes. He’s about to speak, but you continue, “in my bed.”

“Yeah?” Mark can barely get the word out alongside his exhale of immense relief, but you hear it, as you always do.

“Mm, yeah,” You hum, and he nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know what else?”

“What else?” Mark’s relaxed considerably, smile morphing to a small smirk as he parrots your cadence back at you playfully. You don’t say anything for a moment, and he looks over at you curiously to see that you’ve propped your head up on your hand, elbow resting on the mattress. There’s a playful glint in your eyes, mischievous, even, and Mark’s a little bit lost, but your happiness is infectious.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

It’s Sunday morning—or afternoon…Mark hasn’t figured that part out—and Mark feels like something’s clicked into place, and, when he looks at you, he knows you feel the same way.

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Baby Blue - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

Joel loses a bet to Ellie and is forced to chaperone a dance in Jackson. He might not mind it as much when he sees that their pretty neighbor is also chaperoning.

warnings | 18+ light on the angst, heavy on fluff, SMUT

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Sweetness, it's just fun either way :)

..................

Joel lost a bet. He had taken Ellie out to practice her shooting, lining up old cans as targets. She was getting a little too cocky about her aim, so he had upped the ante, moving the still-standing cans a few more yards away, stacking them in a pyramid.

“If you’re so good, kid, I’d like to see you hit just that top can there.” He pointed out to the can on top of the stack. Ellie scoffed.

“Easy. You don’t think I can do it, old man?” He just shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. Ellie was grinning.

“Do you bet I can’t do it?” She had caught him that day in a half-decent mood, so for once, he was game to play along.

“What’s your wager, kid?” She thought for a moment, before her eyes lit up wildly and she fixed him with a grin. Joel was suddenly a lot less interested in playing along.

“If I hit that can, you gotta sign up to chaperone the dance they’re throwing next week.” Joel actually groaned at that. When he had heard from Maria about their plan to host a makeshift prom for all the high-school-aged kids in the town, Joel had thought to himself that there might not be anything he missed less than the concept of a bunch of hormonal teenagers nervously fucking around in a humid gymnasium for a whole night. He had chaperoned one dance before, Sarah’s first and only homecoming, and his heart seized at the memory of how he almost blew a gasket watching Matthew Brown getting a little too handsy with his daughter. Needless to say, when they had asked at the next town meeting for adults to volunteer to chaperone, Joel had not offered his services up.

“Ellie, there’s gotta be something else. I’m not going anywhere near that dance.”

“Well if you’re so sure I’m gonna miss, what’s it matter anyways?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And if you miss, what do I get?”

“If I miss, I’ll stop bugging you about your very obvious crush on our neighbor.” Ellie hadn’t let up about the young woman next door, not since Joel’s fake birthday when she had helped Ellie bake that cake for him. What the girl didn’t know was that the pair had shared a kiss that night, but since then, Joel had been hopeless. He’d greet her whenever he saw her around, and they’d exchange a few nice words, but everytime he talked to her his brain went fuzzy with the memory of that night, and he’d yet to “make a move” as Ellie had been goading him to do ever since.

“Alright, kid. Let’s see what you got I guess.” They shook on it. Joel wasn’t really worried about it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could make that shot, and if it meant getting Ellie off his back about their pretty neighbor, he was game.

He had sorely underestimated the kid, which was why he found himself in the old Jackson rec center gymnasium on a Saturday night, watching a bunch of puberty-ridden children of the apocalypse dance with each other to old cassette tapes from the eighties. This certainly hadn’t been on his end-of-the-world bingo sheet.

He leaned back against the cement wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ellie until he found her awkwardly dancing with Dina. At least he didn’t have to worry about Matthew Brown tonight. It was mostly other women chaperoning, and they had all given him weird looks when he came to volunteer. He had thought to himself that next time, he’d move the cans a lot further away.

But then he saw her on the other side of the gym, his lovely neighbor in an equally lovely light blue dress. The dress itself wasn’t anything special, a short-sleeved thing that fell at her shins, but on her, Joel reckoned it was still the prettiest thing he’d seen in at least the last twenty years. Her eyes met his from across the gym and she smiled brightly, already walking over towards him as Joel’s brain began to blare the oh shit alarm. She sidled up next to him, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Joel Miller, can’t say I was expecting to see you here. You lose a bet or something?” His eyes went wide as he looked at her. She just laughed.

“Sorry, I had to. Ellie told me.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“That kid is gonna be the death of me.” She shrugged, offering him a grin.

“She’s certainly a spitfire, that one. You know, she always asks me if I’ve talked to you lately, always telling me that you’d like to see me.” Joel felt absolutely mortified, his eyes sweeping anywhere but towards her to hide his embarrassment. He caught Ellie’s gaze out of the crowd, and the girl looked so smug he’d like to dissolve into nothing on the spot. That damn kid. He shook his head, turning his attention back to his neighbor and trying to pull himself together. He cleared his throat.

“You, um, you look real nice.” Her smile started to ease the panicky feeling in his chest. She lightly swayed the skirt of her dress.

“Traded some of the tomatoes I’ve been growing this summer for it. Certainly not the same as what I wore to my own prom, but I guess it works for a chaperone.” He offered her a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember much of your own prom?” She laughed.

“Oh yeah. I wore this awful shiny purple dress and had matching butterfly clips in my hair. My date’s cufflink actually got stuck in one when he tried to pull a move in the back of the limo we rented, nearly scalped me he yanked so hard.” Joel couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that.

“Sounds memorable. I take it your date didn’t get too far in, uh, making his move?” She just let out a low whistle, shaking her head and swaying into his side again.

“What about you? Do you remember your prom?” He sighed, altogether liking the feeling of her shoulder continuing to brush into his too much.

“Hmm, I think mine was a little before your time. To be honest I don’t think we even made it to the dance, just ended up, uh, parking.” He blushed furiously as he got the words out, instantly regretting it. She just hummed.

“Wow, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy, Miller. I’m scandalized.” He could see by the smile threatening to creep onto her face that she was kidding.

“Did you at least wear a suit?” He scoffed.

“Of course. Gotta wear a suit to prom. I wasn’t that much of a heathen.” She quirked her brow at him.

“What color?”

“Blue.” “Navy?”

“Uh, not quite.”

“Like a royal blue then?” Joel just sighed, his shoes suddenly very interesting to him.

“No. You’re not telling me you wore a baby blue suit to prom are you?” He huffed.

“It was the 80s, alright? Everyone was wearing them, thought it was cool.” Her laugh was big and bubbling, eyes crinkling up as she looked at him in disbelief. She finally caught herself, resting her hand on his bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I just– never in a million years would I have pictured you in a baby blue suit and now I’m probably gonna be imagining it until the day I die.” He shook his head, not able to fight the smile breaking out at her delight in teasing him. He willed her to keep her hand on his arm, and she did, curling her fingers lightly and letting out a sigh.

“Laugh all you want, but my date thought I looked good that night.” She hummed, tilting her head up at him.

“I’ll buy that. But you look pretty good tonight too.” He choked on an inhale. He knew her flirting was entirely gratuitous, all he had on was a button down and jeans, the same thing he wore everyday. She leaned into his side.

“Whaddaya say, Miller. Will you be my prom date?” He let out a breathy laugh, feeling the blush creeping up his neck again. Maybe it was the sound of “the Cure” fizzing in the background, or the dizzy feeling he was getting watching the swish of the hem of her dress around her bare legs, but Joel finally decided to go for it. He tilted his head down to catch her gaze, a wry smile cracking across his face.

“I’m flattered, darlin. Thought you’d never ask.” The grin she gave him was her brightest yet, and Joel felt like he was melting on the spot.

They spent a while like that, leaning into each other against the back wall and snickering about nothing, lobbing flirtations back and forth. One of the other chaperones stopped by and slipped her a flask that they started passing between them, warmth quickly settling into both their features. Joel hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time, with her arm slung around his shoulders like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed resting her cheek on his arm as he glanced down at her.

“You know, even after he yanked my hair, my date still tried to make another move.” Joel scoffed but she just nodded.

“Mmhmm, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom, tried to get me to give him a handjob, pfft. I smacked him in the face and left right then and there, had to call my mom to come get me.” She laughed, but Joel wasn’t finding anything funny about it. Even though it had been at least two decades ago, and whoever this punk was had probably long been turned into a walking mushroom, Joel still briefly felt a twinge in his chest that he’d like to knock the guy’s lights out. He felt ridiculous, instead drawing his attention back to her and tentatively letting his hand wrap around her waist.

“That’s a really shitty prom memory.” And then, his tongue loosened by whatever they had been swigging from that flask, he said something way too bold.

“You wanna make a better one?” Her fingers stilled where they had been lightly playing with his shirt collar. She was just as shocked as him at his words, but she quickly caught herself, melting back into a smile.

“Well, depends who I’m making it with.” Joel was already slipping his hand into hers and turning heel to tug her along behind him out of the gym and into the hallway. Her breathy laugh of his name made his heart kick inside his chest. He was startled however, once they got out into the empty hall as she pulled him back towards her, tripping over his feet until they crashed together in a kiss. His hands quickly found purchase on her waist as she tugged him down by the hair at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the low groan that thrummed through his throat when she licked into his mouth. She pulled back with a wet click of spit, taking a big gasp of air. Joel’s knees felt weak at the sight of her, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving in her pretty blue dress.

They were interrupted however, by the sound of chatter spilling out of the gym and into the hall. Joel’s eyes landed on another door, pulling her behind him and into what must have once been a supply closet. Luckily, when he flipped the lightswitch it worked, and they were back on each other in an instant, a tangle of tongues that was admittedly taking him right back to his highschool years. He walked her back until she was pressed up against the door, their hips slotting together, seeking more however they could get it. Her hands were grazing up and down his chest, sliding along the waist of his jeans in a way that was making him feel dizzy. His palms started to wander as well, from her waist down to the swell of her thighs, making her gasp when he squeezed the softness there before dipping around to her ass and he thought to himself that she was perfect in his hands.

He was snapped out of the swimming reverie that was kissing her when he felt her fingers starting to work at his belt buckle. He was quick to take both her wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the door. She huffed at him and he could only breathily laugh at her frustrated expression

“Nuh-uh, darlin. This one’s gonna be all you, alright?” She smiled, her head lolled to one shoulder.

“We gonna go parking after this, prom date?” Joel grinned, already kneeling down in front of her.

“Something like that.” While he may have felt like he was back in highschool, he still had his very-much-not-teenaged knees and back to deal with and he was feeling it as he got down on the floor in front of her. He figured the pain would be worth it.

His palms gently curled around her ankles, skimming up along her calves and the backs of her thighs as he rucked up her dress along with him. Her breath hitched when his hands squeezed at her hips, not taking her eyes away from his as he thumbed at the band of her underwear.

“Is this ok?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He gave her hips a harsh squeeze that made her gasp.

“Need you to tell me, darlin, please.” She drew one of her hands to card through his hair, tugging lightly at the scalp to get him to tilt his head up towards her. Her eyes were blown wide, and she squirmed in his grip. Joel felt like his head was going to explode just looking at her.

“It’s good, Joel. I want it, want you, please.” It was all he needed to hear, laying an open-mouthed kiss to the top of one of her thighs before sliding her underwear down her legs and helping her step out of them on wobbly feet. He drew the hem of her dress back up and she seemed to get the hint, bunching it up in one fist to keep it out of the way for him. He let his mouth wander up the plush inside of her thigh, breath grazing over her cunt in a way that made her shiver in his grasp. When he dipped away, however, trailing down her other leg, she breathed out a long whine. At that, he let his teeth graze her skin, nipping just a bit unkindly at the softness.

“Patience, prom queen, I’m getting there.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I’m prom queen now?” She went to say something smart, but was cut off with a broken gasp when he finally dragged his tongue through her folds.

“I’d sure give you the crown, darlin.” With that, he dipped back into her heat, drawing his tongue up from her fluttering entrance to her clit and swiping over the bundle of nerves there. He could feel her thighs shaking where his rough palms were splayed, and he drew her one leg by the back of her knee over his shoulder to open her up even more to him. She keened into his mouth, sighing out soft curses mixed with his name as he worked her over. It wasn’t lost on Joel that it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, but judging from the way she was tugging on his hair and canting her hips into him he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Fuck, Joel– want m-more– please– need more.” He rested his cheek on the swell of her thigh, bringing a hand up and slipping two of his fingers into her tight heat. The moan she let out was more of a cry at that, and Joel’s head went swimmy again at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

“Want you to come for me, darlin. I know you can. You wanna come for me?” She nodded frantically at his goading words, and Joel dipped his face back between her legs to lick harsh stripes against her clit as his fingers continued to steadily pump her. He came up for air for a moment, watching her face scrunched in pleasure above him, the sight made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Please, baby, come for me. Just let go, pretty.” It was all it took to send her over the edge, her hips jerking in his grip and her cunt pulsing around his fingers as he fucked her through it. She let out a few warbly gasps of his name, tugging his hair to get him to stop working her over through the sensitivity. He finally pulled away and she hissed as he helped her get her foot back on the ground, slumping back against the door and gazing down at him with a hazy smile, her dress fluttering back down around her legs. Joel stood with a groan, his knees screaming in protest but he was quickly distracted by her pulling him in by his collar for a stomach-churning kiss. She pulled away with a gasp, eyes searching his.

“Joel, wanna feel you please. Want you to fuck me.” He groaned at that, dipping his forehead to rest on her shoulder and shaking his head lightly. She stilled in his grasp, and when he looked up at her again, a worried look had settled over her face. He couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that rumbled in his chest, that this woman standing before him actually wanted him that much. The furrow between her brow deepened, but he was quick to lay a kiss there, stroking the arc of her cheek with his thumb.

“I want you too– believe me. But I’ll be damned if the first time I have you is in a fucking supply closet.” She let out a wild laugh at that, her eyes crinkling up as she looked at him and a warmth melted through Joel’s chest at the sound.

“You know, I thought you were kidding about the whole parking thing.” Joel grunted, stealing another kiss from her before guiding her out of the closet.

“Fuck parking, I’m gonna take you home, darlin, if that’s alright with you?” They were already walking out of the gym but she still squeezed his hand and shot him a wicked grin.

“Sounds good, prom date, lead the way.”

When one of the chaperones checked the door that had been left ajar, they were only slightly horrified to find a pair of panties strewn on the supply closet floor.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

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reidsqlick · 4 months

Text

That Damn Book. || (S.R)

pairing: Spencer!Reid x GN!reader

summary: You’re Garcias friend, and she had lent you a book mere weeks ago, not aware of her intentions for this just yet, you were soon to find out..

warning(s?): Swearing. No clue if that’s actually classified as a warning, but if it is, there we go..

Penelope Garcia. A hardworking, smart, sickeningly sweet woman. A woman you were more than happy to call your friend, nay, your best friend. You and Penelope had met, and instantly bonded over your shared fascination for cats.

Penelope Garcia was your dearest friend. Something else that you found out about her almost immediately was that she works for the FBI, and is a part of the BAU, aka ‘The Behavioral Analysis Unit’. She’s their Tech Analyst, and you’d be surprised, even though she has to go through seeing all of the absolutely gruesome things on those screens, she’s always walking around with her sweet, sweet smile.

That’s another thing that drew you to her even more. Being able to do the things she does, and still walk around with a smile? It’s absolutely bewildering, not even you can, and you work with animals. Soft, cuddly animals. Not even you can go around smiling like that, but her? She does it so swiftly, with such glee. It’s absolutely fascinating.

About two and a half weeks ago Penelope had lent you a book. Normally, you would’ve already read the book, since she’s always trying to find new books for you to read every now and then, but you’ve already read them. This time, although. You haven’t even seen this book before. This was all new to you, Garcia giving you a book you haven’t read was very, and I mean, very rare.

Usually she picks up really well known classics. Or, well- in your opinion they’re classics. Books like “The Fisher King”, and “The Collector”. Books you grew up to love, as your father apparently had owned a bookstore before he had passed. He passed a month before your birth, and you felt the need to read every book on that man’s bookshelf. You barely got halfway, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that you’ve read many good, classic books in your lifetime. Yet, you haven’t even read this one. She seemed more than excited when she had found out that you hadn’t read it before. “What!? You’re serious? I- now you gotta read the book!!!” She was more than just happy to give this to you, even though it seemed like it was her favorite book by the way she had acted over this topic.

Then again, this surprised you. Garcia definitely was just picking books before, classics. One’s displayed as classics in your local bookstore, but this, this one was different. This one seemed like it had come from a reader, like it wasn’t Garcia at all. But, after all, she is your best friend! Might as well just give it a read, what harm will it do you anyway?

A week had passed, you’d been swamped with work, and with your personal life, but also you’d been swamped with this book. Lord, has it taken up your time. Well, as much free time as you had, and if you’re being honest, you hadn’t had much of any.

This book would’ve been done by now, and added to your bookshelf, it was a short book, only a hundred and thirty-eight pages in length. On the shorter side, but- work had been kicking your ass, so it’s not you to blame, but your boss.

Eventually, the long week had come to a halting, crashing, very tiring end. You’d finally gotten a day off, and this was finally the time you could sit down and read this book that you’d just been longing to read for the entirety of the week. You had been in comfy clothes, reclining on the couch. Your face finally in this very beautifully written book, until you were sorely interrupted by a knock at your apartment door.

You groaned, saved your place in the book, and gotten up off of your couch, walking over to the door to see who could possibly show up at your apartment at 9 o ‘clock on a Saturday night. You peeped through the teeny, tiny peephole of your apartment door to see Garcia standing there eagerly, with a great big Garcia smile plastered on her face.

You sigh softly, and opened the door. Garcia stood there in a bright pink dress with an enormous smile on her face, although the moment she saw you, she frowned, “Honey!! Why aren’t you dressed up? It’s a Saturday!!” She had looked genuinely distraught. “Hm? Oh, today’s my day off,” I said softly “this is the one day I figured I could get to actually reading this book you had lent me!” I said with a smile.

The frown hadn’t left her face, “No, hun. You’re getting ready , cmon. Me and my coworkers are going out for drinks tonight!! You’re not going to stay in on a Saturday, nope, nada. Not on my watch. Cmon, get ready!! We’ve gotta be there in twenty minutes. Chip chop!!”

Twenty minutes!? Never mind twenty minutes, her coworkers? You haven’t met her coworkers in your almost two years of friendship. Usually you would care, you’d have a grudge. But it was Penelope, she works for the FBI. Of course there’s a reason behind her not wanting you to meet her friends, of course there was.

You couldn’t have just gone all these years cause she thought they wouldn’t like you, no, of course not. It’s cause of her job description. She’s a straightforward type of gal. Work stays at work, home stays at home. You never had issues with that, until now.

Now you’re thinking about it, you can stop thinking about it and you have to get ready!? Shit. You don’t own anything business casual, yes it’s drinks, but you’re also meeting your best friend in the whole world’s coworkers. Oh my god. You’re pacing nervously, but just end up going with jeans, a t shirt and a hoodie.

It’s cold in Virginia in this type of weather, or course. You don’t bother to do anything with your makeup, as you only own mascara, but you brush through your hair, spray on perfume, and walk out of your bedroom door. That’s when she shrieked.

She was in disbelief almost, “What!? Jeans and a T shirt? Y/n, I mean... You can pull it off better than anyone I’ve ever seen try to. Eh, it’s good enough!!! Cmon let’s go, get your shoes on cmon!!” She was absolutely ecstatic. For more than one reason, too. She was more than happy to go out and see her coworkers, but also happy for them to finally meet you, as she’s always talking about you

She eventually drags you out of your apartment and into her car, and drives you both to the bar that her coworkers were meeting. You had gotten out of the car, and grabbed your bag. Why bring your bag? Don’t you only need your phone!? Yeah. Usually, you’d only bring your phone, but you’re definitely not overly social, you’re in your mid twenties, you had to bring that book. This isn’t really your thing.

You walked with Garcia into the bar, and she gravitated towards the smallish group in the back, there was about five of them sitting at a larger table, the minute they had seen Garcia, they all waved, inviting her over to the table.

Then for just a second you forgot you were with her. “Okay, guys!! This is my friend who I’ve been telling you guys about for what is it, two years now? Yeah! Two years,” she smiled “their names y/n,” she pointed at you, and then the team “y/n, team, team, y/n!!”

They all had waved, and smiled at you, they all introduced themselves to you. Their names were Morgan, which you already had known who he was, Garcia always talks about her team, but him mostly. There was also Rossi, Hotchner, Prentiss, and JJ. They were all very kind, and welcoming. More welcoming than you would’ve thought.

Something was off, though. She said including her, the team was seven members, and you had only met seven. You shrugged it off until you had seen a taller, lengthy man in a cardigan roll out of the bathroom and walk over to the teams table. Garcia smirked, “Oh! Yes, y/n this is boy genius, Reid. Reid, this is Y/n.”

He then smiled, “Ah. Yes, the infamous Y/n. Nice to meet you, Y/n, as Garcia already had stated I’m Reid, Doctor Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid.” He had smiled, obviously proud of the amount of PhD’s he’d received . You had reached your hand out to shake his, as a friendly gesture.

He has immediately shrieked when you tried to reach for his hand, “Yeah, sorry I don’t shake hands. The amount of pathogens shared in a handshake is more than shared in a kiss, so- I’m not all for handshakes, sorry.” You smiled, turning a light pink.

“Oh, that’s my bad. Well, as Penelope had told you, and apparently the rest of the team, I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/ln. Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” You said with a smile. He had then nodded and then schooched his way into the booth, as had you. You were seated next to Penelope.

She had smiled and then whispered something to you, “He’s a germaphobe. Don’t worry too much about the man. He’s all smarts, no risk of infection.” She chuckled, and so did you. He seemed nice, though, and so did the rest of the team. They truly seemed like sweet people.

An hour or so had passed, and the team were all talking to each other while you had told Penelope you went to get a drink, you just needed to get fresh air from the new people. Not that the team was bad, no. They were sweet as can be. Just, people aren’t the thing you’re best at.

You were sat at the bar, reading the book your dear friend had lent you just mere weeks ago, it’s not normal for a book this short to last you this long, if you’re being honest. You were so deep into the book, you didn’t quite really feel or hear much going on around you, until you were snapped out of it, someone had tapped you on the shoulder.

You immediately had turned around, surprised. To your shock it was the one, and only ‘Doctor Spencer Reid’. “Good book.” he had said, just two mere words. “Hm?” you had said, confused, wondering why he’d come over here to comment on the book you were trying to read. “Oh, I was just saying. Lovely book, is it not?” you nodded. “First time read?” you nodded again, “Classic.”, you’d looked at him like he had two heads.

“Classic- Like it’s a classic, you know? It’s quite the good book, if you weren’t reading it as of now, I would’ve recommended it to you if I had known you were a reader, yourself.” he said, now sitting next to you. “Oh, yeah. It’s pretty good.” you smiled. “Why’d you decide to read it? I, personally just really like books so I read about every piece of literature I can get my hands on-“ you cut him off, pointing in the general direction of Penelope.

He cocked his head to the side, confused. “Garcia? Penelope Garcia? Recommending ‘The narrative of John Smith’? There’s no way-“ you shrugged, “She’s always giving me books, she does it, and often. Usually, I’ve read the book, but this time I hadn’t.” he nodded, and then asked a rather odd question. “When did she… recommend it to you?”

It was silent for a moment, until you had finally remembered the answer to his question just seconds later. “About.. a little over a week I’d say. Why?” he sighed. “I showed it to her a week ago. She’s always asking what I’m reading- so I show her.” your eyes widened. “You!? This is why she recommends me books? You’re serious?”

He shrugged. “I’m almost certain it’s me. I’m a reader, and by the way you act when you’re in the general vicinity of a book, so are you.” you nodded in agreement, “Yeah, but, but, why? I mean what’s the reasoning? She could look up classic books. Why do they have to come from you?”

If he was honest, he didn’t know. He had a general idea, but you didn’t. He didn’t want to weird you out when you barely even knew the man. Although, he did feel as though he should mention his thoughts to you, as it could lead to more insight on this topic. “I think I just may know why she’s doing this. Don’t you?” you shook your head no.

He sighed. “She’s setting us up. I’m almost certain. You’ve seen her do it with other people, right?” you nodded, smiling, “Yeah! Yeah,” you chuckled “she’s been doing it with others for as long as I can remember, just never with me. She knows I’ll be upset if she even were to try to set something like this up. Why would she do this all of a sudden?”

“All of a sudden?” Reid asks, you nod. “No, no” he says “not ‘all of a sudden’ she’s been giving you recommendations for what, months?” you nod again. “Sounds like her,” you say in a lower tone “can’t even be mad, though.” you add.

He looks at you like you’ve got two heads. “Can’t even be mad? You just went on about how you’ve warned the woman if she’d try to set you up. Why the sudden change, Y/n?” you chuckle, smiling softly.

“I don’t know, boy genius. Wanna tell me?”

A/N: spoilers for later seasons: anyways ignore the fact that this is the book that maeve gave reid…. UHHHH. no, but i suck at writing leaving that at that.

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roosterforme · 2 years

Text

Is It Working For You? Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Welcome back! Just making sure you didn't miss anything Masterlist

Summary: Back at the Hard Deck, Bradley shows off his talents. So what if you're a little jealous, you can handle it, right?

Warnings: angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter, getting more into 18+

Length: 3600

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

"Let me get this straight, you don't want to go out with him, but you want to go to the Hard Deck tonight to see if he's there?" Maria asked you as you shared a takeout dinner in your tiny apartment.

"Yes. Why doesn't that make sense to you?"

"Because it's ridiculous."

"So are you coming with me?" You whined, "Please, please, please. I'll look stupid if I go by myself, and Cam has a date with that guy who works for the financial planner."

Exasperated, Maria tilted her head back and reluctantly agreed. "Fine, but all my drinks go on your tab. And you're not allowed to embarrass me."

And that's how you found yourselves crammed into the Hard Deck at 9:30 on Saturday night. You hadn't realized until you got there that an aircraft carrier had arrived into port earlier that evening, and the place was swarming with crew members and their families.

"Holy shit, we'll never get all the way up to the bar to get a drink at this rate!" Maria complained. "Start throwing elbows."

"Sure," you muttered, head on a swivel, looking for Rooster. Maria just kept nudging you closer and closer to the bar where Penny and Jimmy were looking really frazzled. You and she ended up leaving with four beers and four tequila shots, afraid it might be awhile before you made it back for more.

"There's an empty spot on that ledge!" Maria yelled, and you prayed you could make it that far without wearing any of the tequila. Of course said ledge had a perfect view of the dartboard and Rooster, who had seemingly just arrived for the night.

You weren't sure if he had seen you yet. Then it struck you that he was perhaps going to keep avoiding you. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. Since he had his back turned your way, you took the opportunity to take inventory. Wild Hawaiian shirt? Check. Very touchable curly hair? Check. Jeans that were maybe slightly too tight but did lovely things for his butt? Double check.

"Why can't I meet a nice civilian who has a butt that tight?" you moaned into the beer that Maria handed you. And it wasn't even the beer you usually drank, the same one Bradley preferred as well. It was a weird pilsner and you didn't even really want it.

"You are so transparent in your lust for him, poor Rooster probably can't figure out what he did wrong with you," Maria said as she worked on her own bottle of beer. "I maintain that you deserve to be ignored. And, yes, I know you have your reasons, but you always jump to conclusions. Even Kyle was fun until he wasn't, right? It's never all bad. You never know, you could have a long and happy life with Bradley. A house in the country, some kids, maybe eventually grandkids. He would mow the lawn shirtless, you would bake him pies. A real love story."

You snorted. "Jesus, you sound like my mom."

"Yikes, time for shots then!" You each downed two shots in a row, and it wasn't too long until you started chatting with a friendly sailor and his wife who were next to you at the ledge. You actually managed to lose track of time for a while before checking to see where Bradley had gone.

Over all the noise, you noticed that someone had turned off or unplugged the jukebox. Then you heard the tinkling of piano keys as someone seemed to be warming up to play the old upright piano on the other side of the bar, but there were too many people packed inside for you to see who it was.

That's when you recognized the opening notes to the song. Whoever it was at the piano was playing "Roses" by OutKast. "What the hell?" you whispered, grabbing Maria by the front of her shirt and shaking her. "Can you see who's playing the piano?"

She pulled your hand away and glared at you. Since she had a good couple inches on your height, you hoped she'd be able to see further than you could. "Okay, just chill out! Oh, it's him. It's Rooster."

Not that you really needed the confirmation.

He played through the piano intro of the song a few times as you immediately abandoned Maria and trekked through the crowd with your second beer. By the time you got close enough to actually see him, he was stretching his arms wide before pounding out something else altogether.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain...

Oh Lord, was that his singing voice?

Too much love drives a man insane...

It was raspy perfection. Like bourbon with a sugary bite to it.

You broke my will, but what a thrill...

The other aviators began to crowd around the piano as you inched a bit closer.

Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

Rooster had half the bar chanting along to the last line. Then everyone went completely wild, and you gaped at him as he played, clearly in his element as he entertained everyone. His aviator sunglasses were pushed down slightly lower on his nose and he winked at Phoenix, Bob and the others over the frames. His huge hands absolutely flew over the keys with that same elegant movement you'd already gotten used to from him.

As he finished the final notes at full volume, you caught his eye and a genuine smile crossed his face. You joined everyone in applauding him, even bouncing on your toes a bit in your excitement.

You wanted him. So. Badly. Your vision was a little bit all over the place, presumably from the tequila or the lust or both. You wondered if it was too late to get him to take you to that place in Del Mar after all. As you waffled back and forth, trying to decide the safest bet here, you noticed not one but two girls approach him where he was standing next to the piano. The jukebox screeched back to life just as your brain screeched to a full stop.

The girl on the right looked a bit like you, something that was very upsetting for your mind to process. And the other one, well she had her hand on his arm. And both of them were wearing clothing that looked like it was painted on. You glanced down at your boat shoes, ripped jeans and plain cotton tee. When you looked back up, Bradley was saying something that had both girls hooting with laughter.

Oh, you wanted to throw up. In fact, you thought you might.

"Hey, everything okay?" It was Phoenix, cautiously sidling up next to you. You realized you had been standing stricken, motionlessly clutching your beer bottle at chest height for who the hell knew how long.

Apparently you had a front row ticket to a riveting show called 'You Are Insanely Jealous And You Deserve Every Minute Of This', because not even fifteen feet away, Bradley was smiling at both girls.

"No, everything is bad. Very bad," you told Phoenix. "I am so dumb. God, I'm just terrible at this." Yet you were still unable to move.

"Look, I know he likes you. And honestly, he gets a ton of attention from the locals. This is really typical. It doesn't mean anything."

You turned to look at Phoenix, agony clearly written on your face. "He gets a ton of attention from them?"

"I mean, yeah, all the guys do. And Bradley's obviously pretty easy to look at. And he's nice to everyone, well except Bagman. But I think he would really rather have some attention from you, if I'm being honest here."

Your heart pounded harder as Maria came creeping through the crowds to your other side. "There you are! I couldn't find you, and then I ended up getting us some more shots while I was looking for you." She handed you a double shot of tequila and you downed it immediately, wiping your lips with the backs of your fingers.

And then one of the girls had Bradley's phone in her hand, and it looked like she was about to type in her phone number.

"Fuuuuck," you moaned as you handed your empty shot glass and beer bottle to Phoenix on your way to the piano.

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

Bradley's eyes stalked your every movement as you approached him. He had watched you knock back a shot and was a little nervous that meant you'd be leaving the bar for the night. Now it was like you were moving in slow motion for him. He noticed every toss of your hair and how your tongue peeked out of the corner of your mouth as you walked. The way your tight tee shirt pulled across your chest as you tossed your shoulders back in determination was almost his undoing. You looked just like you had last Saturday night when you spun around on your barstool, ready to put him in his place.

Then suddenly you were a foot in front of him, and he didn't know what to say. He had almost forgotten he had Libby and Charlotte attached to his arms. Or was it Lindsey and Scarlett? He had no idea.

"Hi," you told him in the steadiest voice you could manage.

"Hey, Y/N," Bradley replied, and to his shock he watched you pull his phone out of Libby's grasp and slap it against his chest, never once taking your eyes off his. Then you let your fingers trail down along every single button on the front of his shirt before clasping your hands in front of yourself.

"You can play piano," you told him, as if he was unaware of that particular talent he possessed.

"Yes, I can."

"You didn't play last weekend."

"No. I was too busy talking to you," he said in a matter of fact voice that had you biting your lip for a second.

"You played 'Roses'," you told him quietly.

Bradley nodded slowly as he tucked his phone back into his jeans pocket. "I did."

"Why?"

As he hiked his hands up onto his hips, he realized the other girls had vanished and he was more or less alone with you. "Why do you think?"

You shrugged dramatically. "I don't know, Rooster, probably to torture me?"

A startled laugh escaped him. "You think you're the one being tortured here? That's pretty funny. No, Y/N, I played it because I know you like it. And it's been stuck in my head since yesterday."

"It's been stuck in your head?" you asked, seemingly unsure of what else to say.

Bradley yanked his sunglasses off and let them hang from the top of his shirt. "Yeah, of course it has. It's been playing on repeat in my brain. I also can't stop thinking about that weird green hot sauce in the cafeteria that you like. Or how your car is the shittiest thing I've seen in a long time."

You looked down and fumbled with the hem of your shirt, but you were finally smiling. "It has character," you insisted.

"Sweetheart, please look at me," he muttered, and your eyes instantly snapped up again, pupils blown wide. "You're sending me some serious mixed signals here. I don't know what you want me to do. If you want me to stay away from you, just say so."

"I don't want that."

He sighed deeply. "You want to be just friends?" He watched you shrug in the most noncommittal way. "Because friends don't pull the kind of shit that you just did. You told me not to ask you out, then you sent those two girls packing. What's your deal?"

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

You stood before him, speechless. He was not going to let you off the hook easily. You swallowed down the awful feeling in your stomach. Wasn't honesty the best policy? You were so drunk, you weren't sure anymore. "What's my deal? I was incredibly jealous. That's my deal."

You watched Bradley's face for any sign of reaction, but he gave nothing away.

"Why were you jealous?"

"Isn't it obvious?" you muttered, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. Your head was spinning wildly, and you needed to tell Maria that there was no way you'd be able to walk back to your apartment tonight.

"No, Y/N. It is not obvious."

Time to face the music. "Because I like you, that's why. And I'm wildly attracted to you. Jesus, Bradley, how could I not be?"

Bradley shook his head, and it was making you dizzier just watching him. "So many fucking mixed signals," he said under his breath as you took a stumbling step backward. "Are you okay?"

"I think I drank too much," you managed as you tried to take your phone out of your pocket to text Maria. "I don't know where Maria went, but we came here together. I feel awful."

Bradley took you gently by the elbow, and spun you halfway around so you were facing away from him. "She's right over there," he told you, and you tried to look to where he was pointing, his forearm resting on your shoulder. Your head was swimming. "Do you want me to take you home?" he asked, and his sweet, raspy voice in your ear calmed you down.

"Maria and I can get a Lyft," you told him as you leaned back against his chest. This felt so nice, you wanted to curl up into him and fall asleep. Bradley's hand slid down the side of your shoulder, anchoring you to him while he rubbed you gently through your sleeve.

"Is she your roommate?" he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and soothing your back.

"Mmhmm, she is."

"I'll drive you both home," he said, wrapping his other arm around your waist and leading you toward Maria on the way to the exit.

"Haven't you been drinking?" you asked as you tried to walk as normal as you could.

"Not a single drink tonight."

"Why not?" you asked with a yawn, desperate to keep him talking. You'd missed his voice over the last few days.

"Because I drank most of a bottle of scotch last night after work in hopes I would be able to fall asleep. I thought my liver deserved a night off."

You didn't remember much more after that, other than Maria taking your hand as you felt the cool night air hit your face. And as Bradley buckled you into his front seat, he whispered, "Please don't barf in my Bronco, Sweetheart," next to your cheek.

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

You jolted awake in your bed and sat up quickly. It was sunny in your bedroom and your mouth tasted terrible. "Oh my God, did I throw up in his Bronco?" you croaked to your bedroom walls. Desperate to know what time it was, you gently rolled across your bed to where your phone was charging on the nightstand next to your glasses. Your head was on the verge of imploding, you were certain of that. How much did you drink last night?

You gingerly slid your glasses onto your nose. It was almost 10:00 on Sunday morning, and all of the other details of the previous evening came slowly flooding back to you. Bradley had played the piano for you. Well, he had played for everyone at the Hard Deck, but in some way, you were certain it had been just for you. And he had been sweet enough to drive you and Maria home, even though you were kind of an ass to him.

You suddenly started laughing and had to grip your head to make the throbbing stop. Had you really taken Bradley's phone away from that girl? You did remember slapping him in the chest with it, too. Add that to the list of things you would never do sober.

You had handled the situation like you owned him. And he let you do it. Bradley let you send those girls away without another look in their direction. His attention had firmly been on you. Just you.

A gentle tapping on your door sent your hungover head into a frenzy. "Yeah?" you croaked and a second later Maria's head poked inside. The smell of breakfast cooking made your stomach churn with hunger and something else unpleasant.

"Wow, you look terrible."

"I feel worse," you managed. "How much did I drink?"

"Well, I don't think it was necessarily the quantity so much as the tequila itself. Come on, I made you waffles. You'll feel better after you eat."

After you had two full waffles, some fruit and a lot of coffee in your stomach, you were able to converse like a human.

"Bradley drove us home, and I can barely even remember it. Was he nice to you? Was his car messy? Was he a good driver? Did he use turn signals?"

"Of course, no, pretty good, and yes. Also you'd probably like to know that he carried you inside from his car."

Your eyes went wide. "No!"

Maria nodded as she blew on her mug of coffee. "Yeah, he did. You fell asleep, and he insisted on letting you doze, so he scooped you up like a little baby and carried you to the couch."

"He carried me up three flights of stairs?"

An impressed look settled on Maria's face. "Yes, and let me tell you, your boy wasn't even slightly winded. He looked like he would have happily carried you to Texas if you had told him you wanted to eat BBQ for a midnight snack."

You groaned loudly, a combination of embarrassment over being carried by Bradley and sadness over not being able to remember it.

"Then after he left," Maria continued, "I managed to coax you into the bathroom to get you ready for bed. It was not easy to change you into pajamas or get you to take your contacts out while you fought with me, so you probably owe me lunch. Tequila makes you... difficult. And I've gotta ask, what are you going to do about your Rooster problem? Because if I saw things correctly from the bar, he ditched not one but two other girls as soon as you demanded his attention."

Indeed. What were you going to do about your Rooster problem?

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

The glimmer of hope that filled Bradley on Saturday night carried him all the way through Sunday. He ran almost seven miles before he noticed any fatigue, and then he lifted weights for an hour. He felt so good, he even went grocery shopping and stocked the small refrigerator in his barracks room.

You had staked your claim on him. At least it felt that way. You had said you were jealous, and you put your hands on him. And then you snuggled against him, and it had taken every ounce of his self control to keep his lips off your perfect neck. Because now he had a new problem; you had done all of that after you had been drinking.

Bradley needed to get you to talk to him, but he needed to make sure the timing was right. No alcohol, nobody else around, and no bullshit.

Monday did not prove to be the opportune time for that conversation. The entire day was truly a mess. Bradley had blown up at Maverick in front of an entire room of people, the flight training was a mess, and the team was not getting along. You were also nowhere to be found. Bradley must have looked to where Lieutenant Wilson and Lieutenant Harvey were sitting one time too many, because during a break, they had mercy on him and informed him that you were meeting with your superior officers.

"Do you know what it's about?" Bradley asked them.

"I'm assuming it has something to do with the mission. Y/N is the lead comms tech, so she usually gets updated information first," Cam Harvey said. "She's working really hard to make sure you're as safe as possible. We all are."

"Appreciated," Bradley replied with a nod. But by the time he was showered and leaving for the day, he still hadn't seen you. As he rode the elevator down alone, his phone buzzed with a message from Mav.

Beach day tomorrow. Meet by the seaside cliffs at 9 am. Dress for fun.

"What the fuck?" Bradley muttered, wondering what the message possibly had to do with the mission.

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

"I need you to implement this into the plan today. I don't know how many more weeks of training we have available before you all get hauled out to that carrier, so this needs to be perfect," Commander Bickel told you as you furiously entered code into the navigation simulation program for the F/A-18 Super Hornets. You had been holed up with him in his office all day. Every tiny bit of new information that was collected needed to be taken into consideration. The mission was too important to miss something and regret it later. Apparently the hillside slopes around the SAMs had initially been miscalculated, and you were currently updating them with satellite imaging.

The fact that Rooster could be there in person made you strive for perfection. Plus, you actually liked your boss. He was fair and friendly and you respected each other.

'Yes, sir. I'll take care of it."

You worked late into the evening before you were dismissed, but on the way out Bickel told you, "You've been invited to a beach day tomorrow, courtesy of Captain Mitchell. Harvey and Wilson, too."

"Sir?"

"Take the day off tomorrow and enjoy yourself."

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

Thanks for reading! The next chapter.... oh boy, get excited for it!

Check out Part 5

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#top gun fanfiction #rooster fanfic #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 8 months

Text

The Art of Stealth

masterlist

summary: jason doesn’t seem to understand the art of sneaking into your dorm room quietly

pairing: jason teague x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.9k

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, jason being adorable, tooth rotting fluff

timeline: set before the show, so no real spoilers

author’s note: i looove this character so much and i really wish he was in more than 20 episodes :,,)

You and Jason started dating when you were Sophomores in High School. You were there for him each football game to cheer from the bleachers, and when he got accepted to Metropolis University you were both overjoyed. When you also got accepted, Jason was that much more excited about going to college.

Suddenly all the trips back to Smallville he’d been mapping out had no need to be taken and he could simply see you on campus.

Jason was part of a fraternity with his teammates, but you hadn’t joined a sorority. So, Jason would sneak into your dorm room. However, he wasn’t very good at the actual sneaking part.

A loud crash woke you up and you grabbed the baseball bat from under your bed. You were ready to whack the shadowy figure that had climbed through your window when you heard his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason groaned. “God, you need to put some pillows under the window or something.”

“Jason? What the hell are you doing?”

“Visiting my girlfriend? So we can sleep in the same bed?” He stood up, a smile on his face. “What? It’s Saturday, everyone’s sleeping in and no one will notice I’m in here!”

“You’re adorable, but if you get caught in the girl’s wing you could get expelled!”

“You kidding? Who could expel this adorable face?” He was still smiling as you turned on your light and tossed the bat onto your bed.

“How do you look so cute right now? You just fell into my room!” you laughed a little.

“Awe you love me, don’t you?”

“I really do.” You got on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his full lips. “So much.”

You were studying for an upcoming test when you heard a rushed knock at your door. You slowly got up from your chair and walked to the door, the knock continuing up until you opened the door.

“Oh my god, Jason!” you gasped and pulled him into the room quickly. “What the hell?”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brows and smiling.

“It’s after nine and a weekday! You can’t be here! Did anyone see you? God damn it, Jason if I have to bribe the girl across the hall again I-” He cut you off by grabbing your face and kissing you. “Alright, you’re forgiven.”

“I think I’m getting better at this whole sneaking around thing, though,” he said, walking over to your bed and sitting down. “I’m like ninety-five percent sure no one saw me.” He leaned back and grinned before someone knocked on the door. You motioned for Jason to hide, so he rolled onto the floor.

You opened the door and were met with your smiling neighbor, “Hey Casey, wha- what’re you doing here?”

“I saw Jason come in here, Y/n,” she said flatly. She held out her hand with a smile. “C’mon, girl’s gotta eat!”

“This is so unfair! I see your girlfriend going into your room every night!” you said. You went to your dresser to grab five dollars.

“The perks of being a lesbian, Y/n!” Casey smirked when you handed her the money. “You should try it sometime.” You closed the door.

“Jason, you can come back out,” you told him before he slid out from under the bed.

“You know you’ve got like ten pairs of panties under here?” He smiled up at you from the carpet. You rolled your eyes and held out your hand which he took and used to heave himself off the floor. “Love you,” he said and kissed you.

“Next time I’m sneaking into your place,” you mumbled.

“Ooh no!” He shook his head. “House full of horny guys that might combust if they see you in your tiny pj’s? No thanks, sweetheart.”

“Well then, just slide five dollars under Casey’s door before knocking on mine tomorrow, okay?” you laughed.

“Good morning,�� you mumbled, snuggling into Jason’s chest. Your eyes suddenly flew open. “Oh my god!”

“Shit,” Jason sighed.

“Shit is right! Hurry up and climb out the window!” you exclaimed, pulling the covers off of him and standing up. “I am not getting expelled just because you haven’t grasped the art of sneaking in and out of my bedroom!”

“Wouldn’t it be smarter to just act like I came here early in the morning?” he asked. He stood up and put his pants on from the night before. “If anyone asks, you can say you had to help me study?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You nodded a little, looking into his bright green eyes. You then shook your head, “Wait, no it doesn’t! Stop giving me that look that makes me do anything for you and just hurry out of here before someone sees you!”

He grinned, “You really are a sucker for this smile, aren’t you?”

“I really, really am so please get out of this room before I fold and jump back into bed with you!”

“I love you,” he said before he kissed you. He then put his shirt on, kissed you again, and climbed out the window. “See you in class, my love!” He peeked his head into your room and you kissed him one last time before he left for good and you closed the window.

“My love?” You scrunched up your face a little. “Who talks like that?” You laughed lightly then groaned to yourself, “god damn it, I love him so much!”

#smallville x reader #smallville fic #smallville #jason teague x reader #jason teague #jackles character #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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charincharge · 1 month

Text

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering.

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run?

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise.

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand.

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar.

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?”

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin.

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee.

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?”

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words.

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~

#idwtw #idwtw au #rowaelin #rowaelin fan fic #rowaelin fic #tog fanfic #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #she's backkkk #i stg i'm finishing this fic #no fic left unfinished

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edsloveydove · 2 years

Text

I Have Always Seen You

pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader

summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...

warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!

word count: 9k+

notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!

DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day.

Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now.

“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.

“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”

“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”

“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse.

“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?”

Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson.

I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends.

While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night.

By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things.

I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to.

Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink.

“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly.

Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation.

It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive.

‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’

I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least.

But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped.

‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’

The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.

Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right?

Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at.

I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it.

I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning.

Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them.

“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely.

Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly.

“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”

He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile.

Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s.

“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade.

“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes.

I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end.

“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them.

“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider.

Naturally, I take full offense.

“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing.

Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around.

“Hey, Munson.”

Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with.

2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them.

“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says.

“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh.

“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool.

Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.

‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’

I finish my business and leave the bathroom.

After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down.

“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes.

I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms.

“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?”

I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.”

Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me.

“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!”

My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off.

“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says.

Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem.

I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech.

It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend.

“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water.

“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”

I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down.

I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!”

All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water.

Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest.

Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me.

“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee.

The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets.

The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement.

Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red.

Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on.

About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs.

“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him.

“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me.

I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?”

I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with.

He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes.

“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out.

“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.

“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite.

I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face.

“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can.

“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.”

“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding.

The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away.

But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives.

“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me.

“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly.

Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down.

“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-”

“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’.

“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek.

“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders.

“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts.

“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling.

“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile.

Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.”

A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror.

“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks.

I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly.

Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry.

“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!”

When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering.

After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little.

“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?”

“Why are you here?”

“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face.

“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.”

He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box.

“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way.

I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he?

“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm.

“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.”

“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count.

“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting.

By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back.

Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently.

So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly.

‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’

By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.

Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight.

Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby.

He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them.

After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home.

“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be.

“Yes.”

James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything.

“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?”

I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster.

My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists.

“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand.

I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least.

“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads.

A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him.

“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.”

I rip my arms out of hold.

“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.”

His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me.

“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.

Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us.

“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly.

Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’

Eddie stays silent, watching me closely.

I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.

It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too.

I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here.

James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?”

I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do.

Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time.

I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me.

Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so.

“What can I do for you Danny?” I say.

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me.

I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion.

Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them.

I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin.

I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun.

“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though.

“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.”

My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off.

“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us?

“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself.

I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while.

After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave.

“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject.

Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal.

“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light.

“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?”

“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it.

Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything.

“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?”

The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward.

“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?”

He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.”

“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal.

Eddie just looks at me confused.

“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily.

“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.”

Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies.

“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says.

“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal.

“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it.

The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep.

“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks.

That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest.

“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off.

“Yeah?”

A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking.

“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle.

“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says.

More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach.

He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep.

My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes.

Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…

A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing.

“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.”

There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname.

“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.”

I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left.

Eddie helps pull me to my feet.

‘Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’

“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.

My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.”

“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?”

“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!”

“You know I always love when you use my full name.”

And the bastard cuts the rope.

The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is.

Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas.

“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!”

“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.”

I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side.

I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of.

“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face.

“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!”

“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!”

We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground.

Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form.

I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again.

“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!”

Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong.

“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.”

He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.”

“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!”

He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches.

He couldn’t possibly be…

His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me.

Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks.

I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again.

I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books.

My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.

Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us.

Oh.

He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?

In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did.

An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air..

“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.

“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.”

He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me.

“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.”

I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.

“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.”

A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?”

He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?”

“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy.

“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.”

“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn’t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?”

Eddie’s face drains of color.

“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?”

“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off.

“What?”

“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.”

He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes.

“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”

It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that.

“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes.

I place my hands over his that still hold my face.

“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.”

His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more.

“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head and take a deep breath.

“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”

“Hey, now. Watch it.”

I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.”

“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.”

“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.”

I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.

“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly.

“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?”

“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #my boyfriend eddie #my writing

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robotsandramblings · 2 months

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as said, i'm very curious as to fans' watching habits - how many are die-hard must-watch-at-midnight-drop fans, how many will wait, etc.

i'm also curious because i'm always worried about when i post spoilers. for S1 and S2, i'd wait until Saturday to post anything, because i assumed many people had school and/or jobs that might prevent them from seeing new episodes right away.

but i'm starting to think that a lot of fans - at least, the people that i see on tumblr - are posting stuff on Wednesday after it airs? so i guess i'm safe then! depending on how this poll goes, i might start posting spoilerly stuff on Wednesdays too.

(fyi, personally, i'm a "wait until Wed evening" person. i like to still spend my day getting stuff done, so that i can relax in the evening and enjoy the new episode(s). it's also because i live with my family and we share the TV, and i prefer to watch new eps on the TV (v.s. on my laptop in my bedroom) when i'm by myself, so i have to wait until the TV is free lol. which is usually evening or even late at night when they've gone to bed!!)

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #poll

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months

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Lavender - Ch. 18

A night out at the speakeasy leads to an unexpected connection. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-17 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (broken up), Tommy Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT :D unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up!) and Tommy being an absolute flirt. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only!

Length: 4.8 k

Saturday, May 15, 2010 - Six Months Later

“I need more than a drink,” Lucy put her head on the front desk of the clinic with a groan. “I need at least 2. Probably five.”

“I think they have that,” Andrew said, smiling a little. “Pretty much the whole draw.”

“That one guy was such a dick,” she propped her chin on her fist. “Why did I decide to become a nurse again? Why did I think this was a good idea?”

“Because you made career choices before the world ended and then stuck it out?” You said, sitting on top of the desk behind the counter.

“Yeah being a nurse wasn’t exactly a walk in the park then, either,” she grumbled. “This is my problem, I’m basically an addict, I get one REALLY GOOD patient and then I act like that fixes alllllll the assholes…”

“Sounds like dating men,” Marta joined your little group from the exam area. “Lee is finishing up with the final patient and then we’re free. We’re so close, guys. So close I can taste it.” Marta glanced over at you and groaned. “Aw, Doc, you got changed? You look all cute and shit? That’s not fair!”

“Hey,” you replied. “I have nowhere else to wear the cute dress. You have dates. I have speakeasy night with my coworkers, just give me this.”

“You could have dates too, if you wanted,” Jess was perched on the other side of the horseshoe shaped desk, Andrew squarely between you in his office chair. Her feet were in his lap. “All you’d have to do is just say yes to one of the guys who talks to you or actually ask someone out.”

“Yes but why should I when I have you lovely people, all our patients and Petri dishes in the lab to keep me company?” You smiled. Andrew and Jess shared a brief look. You tried to not roll your eyes. Mostly because they’d given you a lot of leeway in the past almost year since you and Joel had split up. Especially when you got back from your trip outside the QZ.

You hadn’t even bothered to go home that night. You walked straight to Andrew and Jess’ place, knocking on the door and trying to not cry until you were inside. Andrew was the one to answer and you fell into him, burying your face in his chest as it felt like you were cracking open with the pain of it.

“You were right,” you choked out as he pulled you inside. “About what he did out there, you were right…”

“Oh, honey,” he wrapped his arms around you the best he could with the backpack in the way, kissing the top of your head before tucking you below his chin. “I’m so sorry. I wish I was wrong. I really do.”

You slept there that night, Andrew sandwiched between you and Jess, other people and the safety that came with them the only thing that let you rest.

You’d managed to avoid Joel since you’d returned. It had been half a year since you last saw him that night at the QZ fence. There were signs of him, though. He was usually on your mind somehow, not that you were happy about it.

A few weeks after the trip, you passed Tess on your way to look for a few more books and CDs at the underground sellers’ shops. She didn’t notice you but you noticed her. It looked like she’d gotten into a fight, she had a black eye and gash at her throat. You frowned.

“Tess?” You changed direction to follow her. “Tess!”

She turned and looked surprised that you’d talk to her for a moment before meeting you in the middle.

“Doc,” she looked you up and down. She had a tendency to do that, you noticed. She liked to evaluate things. Like she thought you might have changed since she last saw you. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” you smiled. “Look, I’m happy I ran into you, I’ve been thinking…” You glanced around and tugged her off to the side of the road. “You and Tommy and… everyone, you’re still making runs, right?”

“Not taking you out there again,” she shook her head. “Joel was pretty firm on that…”

“No, that’s fine,” you waved her off. “I just… You know that saying ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?’”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

“Well there’s only so much I can do for you if you guys come back already hurt, down a lot of blood, all that jazz,” you said. “But if I gave you some basic trauma supplies, showed you how to use them…”

“You’d do that,” she said it more than asked it.

“Of course,” you frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” She didn’t say anything else, so you just pressed on. “Could you plan to come by my apartment sometime this week, late? I can put together some kits, show you what to do for common injuries…”

“Wednesday?” She asked.

“After 10:30,” you said. “Should give me time to get home from the clinic.” You were surprised to learn that you actually kind of liked Tess. She showed up to your apartment not long after you did. Wednesday had been a rough one and your shirt was still bloody, deciding to prioritize getting the blood out of your hairline instead of changing your clothes.

“Doc,” she said by way of greeting, her eyes drifting to the blood on your shirt and back up to your face, strand of bloody hair still in your fingers.

“Sorry,” you said, giving an apologetic smile. “Had to do a field amputation today without anesthesia, it was a mess… I’m making tea, want a cup?”

“I’ll take tea,” she said, coming in and sitting at the table. You got your still bloody hair out of the way and quickly pulled the shirt off before grabbing a t-shirt out of the drawer and pulling it on.

“Sorry,” you smiled apologetically again. “I just really needed to get at least some of that blood off me…”

You put the tea on the table and grabbed the kit you put together, giving Tess a crash course in trauma stabilization 101.

“So were you a military doctor when this shit started?” She asked after you packed the supplies back up.

“Oh God no,” you laughed. “No, I was a biology teacher. I was finishing up a pre-med degree though, and I’d always wanted to be a doctor so I was just reading everything I could find to get a jump on med school. I got here, they were setting up medical facilities with all of one doctor so he trained me.”

“And how’d you meet Joel?” She was sitting back in he chair, watching you. His name made your stomach clench.

“You could ask him,” you said, looking at the almost empty tea cup.

She scoffed.

“You are an off limits topic,” she said. “For both Miller men, as it happens. Joel doesn’t answer, Tommy says it’s not his shit to say. Joel got back from the trip with you, said nothing for three days and then pretended that nothing happened.”

You nodded slowly.

“And you don’t like not knowing,” you said. She smiled.

“Exactly.”

You signed, fidgeting with the mug.

“I met Joel in 1999,” you said. Her eyes went wide. “It’s why they called me Kid, I was just 20 back then, still in college.”

“Jesus, you were a kid. He still a grumpy asshole then?” She laughed. You laughed back.

“Very rarely,” you said. “Punched Tommy in the face at a bar once because Joel was being an asshole and Tommy called him on it. Though I made him watch ‘When Harry Met Sally’ and he actually liked it. Tried so hard not to laugh at the fake orgasm scene he choked on his beer.”

She laughed at that. She told you about some of her life before, too. Spending summer on a lake with her husband and son, a mishap when renovating their basement that left a giant splotch of paint over the new linoleum that they’d never been able to properly clean up. You got both of you beer.

“I was never sure who the outbreak was worse for,” she said. “People like me who had a life going that got ripped away or people like you who never really had a fucking chance at one.”

“We all got screwed,” you said. “Sometimes I think we all died back then, everyone who’s left is just a ghost of what they would have been otherwise.”

“And you still wear ribbons on your braids,” she nodded to your hair. You glanced down, the blue ribbon splotched purple where the blood had splattered it. You smiled a little.

“There are very few things that make life worth it anymore,” you said after a moment. “And life is too short to not wear the damn ribbons.”

You knew they were using the trauma kit supplies. Tess would show up every six weeks or so, asking for a resupply. She’d even asked for a new euthanasia kit once. You almost had a panic attack before she had the chance to tell you that it wasn’t Joel or Tommy, just a traveler they’d run into who couldn’t bring themselves to turn their gun on themselves. But you hadn’t needed to come pull a bullet out of any of them again, so you were counting their trips as a success.

“Alright kids,” Lee came out from the exam area, lab coat still on. “We are all set, they’re getting dressed and then we are out of here!”

“I’m going for the jukebox as soon as we get there,” Marta said. “No one try to stop me!”

“Oh God,” Andrew groaned. “You’re going to make us listen to the Backstreet Boys all night aren’t you?”

“Think they’re still alive out there?” She asked. “Just performing for some QZ on the west coast?”

“Imagine if they’re infected,” Jess said. “You’re just walking down the street and then bam, attacked by a Backstreet Boy…”

“This,” Andrew looked up at her. “This is why I love you.”

Walking to the Speakeasy with everyone reminded you a little of college. It helped that you were wearing a sundress like you’d worn so much in Texas. It helped that the weather was warm and the sky was clear. Mostly, it helped that there were people laughing. You weren’t sure if your memory was just selective but it seemed like people just didn’t laugh anymore.

There were some tables in the corner of the speakeasy that were open and you pushed them together, sitting down with your back against one of the walls. It just felt better that way.

“Beer?” Andrew looked to Jess. She nodded and he turned to you. “Beer?”

“I’m thinking a 1996 left bank Bordeaux, something with some good body to it,” you said, thinking.

“Yeah, so beer?” He smiled.

“Yes please,” you smiled back.

“I only put on two songs,” Marta sat beside you. “So, Andrew, Mr. ‘If it’s not rock and roll it’s not music,’ will only have to suffer for so long.”

“And if only we could get him to suffer in silence,” Jess mused.

You laughed and Andrew brought beer and you sat drinking with your friends, forgetting for a minute that it was the end of the world.

“Doc?”

You turned to see a slightly familiar face. You frowned for a moment, trying to place him when it clicked.

“Oh my gosh, Tim?” You asked. He smiled, nodding. “Holy cow, you’re so… adult!”

He laughed. He was a student from your first year as a teacher in the QZ, finishing high school in 2007. You hadn’t seen him since.

“Yeah, I’m 21 now,” he smiled proudly. “Doesn’t really matter much now but still, cool to say.”

Bitter Sweet Symphony started playing and he held out his hand.

“Wanna dance?” He asked. “I think the statute of limitations of you as my teacher are up.”

“Fuck it,” you shook your head. “Why not?”

“Yeah!” Marta whooped. “Getting Doc on the dance floor!”

You flipped her off and she laughed as you followed behind him.

Tim, you were happy to know, was doing alright for himself. He had a girlfriend he was crazy about. He was stuck working for FEDRA, of course, but he was doing some engineering work.

“All because you made me interested in science,” he said, one hand at your waist, the other in yours. “So, thanks for that.”

“You’d have gotten there eventually without me,” you smiled. “But I’ll take some credit for your success.”

The song changed to something you didn’t recognize, something fun and upbeat. His face brightened.

“Mind if I spin you?” He asked. “Always wanted to try that.”

“I am in the dress for it,” you smiled a little. “Go for it, kid.”

He clumsily twirled you under his arm until his fingers slipped out of yours and sent you spinning across the dance floor. You were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe and he took your hand again just as you saw Joel, watching you from across the bar.

Your laughter died and your breath caught in your throat. Seeing him was like seeing a ghost. It took you a moment to understand why but then you realized it. Since November, you’d thought of the Joel you knew as though he were dead. He’d died with Sarah, back in September, 2003. He’d never made it to Boston.

You’d mourned him in a way. You’d put the few clothes he’d left at your place into the floorboards with your stash - those weren’t his, after all - but left the picture of him, Sarah and you on your nightstand. That Joel wasn’t a killer. That Joel hadn’t blamed you for it. You’d taken to charging your old cell phone, reading back through texts with him and with Sarah that were still stored there every night before you fell asleep. There was a voicemail, too, one from a week before you visited the last time.

“Hey Baby,” he’d said. “Think I fucked up the time difference again, must still be out with Louisa… Anyway, missin’ ya. Call me when you’re home safe. Love you.”

That Joel was dead and the man he’d become was staring daggers at you.

“Doc?” Tim said.

“Mind if I cut in?” Andrew said.

“Good to see you, Tim,” you managed to turn and smile at him. “Glad to know you’re doing well.”

“Take care, Doc,” he smiled, leaving you with Andrew. He pulled you into his arms and put his mouth near your ear.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said quietly, holding you tightly to him so you had no choice but to sway with him. “We’re going to stay out here for this song and we’re going to have a great time. And then we’re going to go back to the table and drink the beers that Jess is getting us right now.”

“I just…”

“Nope,” he cut you off. “We’re not doing that, we’re not going to run away because that fucker showed up. We’re going to stay here and we’re going to have fun in spite of his ass. Got it?”

You just nodded.

“Good.”

You weren’t paying attention to the music, the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you drowning out almost everything else, Andrew’s hands on you seeming like the only thing tethering you to the earth. You let him guide you back to the table, a fresh beer sitting in front of your seat.

“Hey Doc!” Jess said brightly. “So an amnesiac walks into a bar. He goes up to a beautiful blonde and says ‘so… do I come here often?’”

It took you a second and then you laughed, the spell of Joel’s eyes on you snapping. And life continued on. Until a Texas drawl appeared over your shoulder.

“Scuse me.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as you looked behind you, Tommy standing there. “I was really hoping I could get you onto the dance floor.”

“Me,” you said, incredulous.

“Well I try to make a habit of getting the prettiest girl at the bar to give me the time of day,” he smiled. “So I’m just hopin’ you’ll cut me a break for old time’s sake.”

“Look,” Andrew said, but you cut him off.

“Why not,” you said. He smiled - that fucking Miller man smile - and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and toward the dance floor. Linger was playing. He put his hands at your waist and your arms went around his neck, swaying in time.

“So Kid,” he smiled. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you said cautiously. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you.

“I feel like you’re doubtin’ my good intentions,” he said.

“If Joel sent you to talk to me, you can tell him to fuck off,” you said.

“That asshole?” He scoffed. “He about ripped my arm off when I said I was going to ask you to dance, he doesn’t want me doin’ this. You think that’s the only reason I’d come talk to you?”

“Maybe not the only reason,” you smiled a little.

“Wasn’t joking about gettin’ the prettiest girl at the bar to give me the time of day,” he smiled back. “Got news for you, any bar you’re in? That’s you. I just have to talk you into it now.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head a little, smiling anyway.

“You’re still such a player, aren’t you?” You teased.

“Nah, just a charmer,” he said.

“How’ve you been?” You asked.

“Well as can be expected,” he shrugged. “Roommate’s a dick but…”

You snorted and he smiled broader.

“I told him he was a fuckin’ asshole for what he did to you, you know,” he said after a moment, face turning serious. “He was also a fuckin’ dumbass but he’s always been a dumbass. It’s the asshole shit I can’t stand.”

“Let me know if the message ever sinks in,” you said wryly.

“That’ll be the day,” he scoffed.

The song shifted, something soft and slow. He tugged you closer and your cheek leaned into his chest. You danced quietly for a bit.

“I wanted to ask you out, back in the day,” he said eventually, his lips close to your ear.

“Really?” You glanced up at him, not wanting to move your head.

“Joel told me you were ‘off limits,’” he laughed a little. “Course I didn’t know that was because he wanted ya but…”

“Damn,” you joked. “Dibs really put you off, huh?”

“If I’d known it was just dibs it wouldn’t have,” he replied.

The song changed to Black Magic Woman and he stepped back from you a bit.

“Now, see, I might have had some ulterior motives,” he smiled sheepishly. “May have put this on the jukebox in hopes I could get you to dance to it with me…”

“I don’t know how to dance to this,” you laughed, moving to head back to your seat, hand still in his. He caught you and pulled you back against him.

“I do,” his hand went to the small of your back, pressing your hips against his. You swallowed. “Just gotta follow my lead, pretty girl.”

He took the lead, his hips pushing against yours, moving in sharp rhythm. You could feel him through his jeans. His legs nudged yours in the right steps, your breasts flush against him. His eyes traced your face, lingering on your lips.

The song felt too short, the two of you coming to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, bodies still close together.

“How ‘bout a drink?” He smiled.

“Sure,” you smiled back. He laced his fingers with yours and led you to the bar, just catching a glimpse of Joel standing up and storming off as you did.

Tommy joined the table with your coworkers, pulling up a chair close to yours, one hand on the small of your back. Marta asked how you knew each other and immediately latched on to the “we’ve been friends for 11 years” thing to get stories out of him like the time he tried to teach you to grill and you accidentally set the thing on fire and seriously considered pushing it into the pool to put it out.

“We’re gonna head out,” Andrew said before he leaned in to kiss your cheek goodbye, whispering in your ear as he did. “You OK?”

You just nodded and he left with Jess. You realized then that they were the last of the party to leave.

“One more drink,” Tommy smiled. “Just you and me.”

“Well if you’re going to twist my arm about it,” you smiled back.

The bar was emptying out, just a few stragglers left on the dance floor. Tommy got you both a whiskey on the rocks, sitting next to you in a booth, putting his arm around your shoulders. You propped your feet on the chair across the table from you and leaned your head on his chest, swirling the whiskey in your chipped glass. The ice clinked.

“Missed seein’ you,” he said after a minute, taking a drink. “You always just… Made shit better. It’s all brighter with you.”

“You’re sweet,” you smiled a little, taking a drink. “And I’ve missed seeing you, too.”

Closing Time came on and Tommy laughed.

“We can take a hint!” He yelled over your head before finishing his drink. “We’re goin, we’re goin.”

You laughed, polishing yours off, too, before getting up. You could just barely feel the alcohol in your head, far from drunk and just on the edge of tipsy.

“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You know, I walk home on my own late at night most days,” you said, following him out of the bar, anyway. “Always ends up fine.”

“Humor me,” he smiled, holding out his hand. You smiled back, taking it. He tugged you close to him, setting an easy pace.

You talked about random things you missed about Austin, laughing when you mentioned your favorite second hand clothing shop downtown near campus.

“Isn’t that just shopping now?” He teased.

“Oh you know it’s not the same,” you laughed. “I got this great dress there once from the 70s. I think I only wore it once, to a wedding, but damn did it make my boobs look fantastic. One of life’s great regrets is the fact that it’s rotting away in my closet in New York.”

“Damn,” he shook his head. “Now one of my great regrets is not seeing that dress…”

You laughed, stopping at the door to your building.

“This is me,” you half smiled.

“How about I walk you up?” He asked. You raised your eyebrows. “I know I know, but how often do you walk home from the clinic with a few drinks in you?”

“I’ve treated you, do you want to know the answer to that question?” You teased. He laughed.

“Well those times, I wouldn’t have to feel guilty if somethin’ happened to ya,” he said. “Let me walk you up.”

“If that’s what will help you live the dream, Miller, far be it from me to stop you.”

You opened the communal door and led the way upstairs, stopping by your apartment.

“See?” You teased, after unlocking your door but leaving it closed and turning to face him. “So eventful.”

He leaned his arm against the door frame, caging you in on one side. His eyes dropped to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Still think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his free hand delicately lifting your chin toward him.

“Tommy,” you breathed. His hand slipped from your chin to the back of your head, his thumb still along your cheek.

“Want me to stop?” He asked, moving closer.

You swallowed.

“No,” you said.

“Good,” he said. “Neither do I.”

He kissed you then. Soft, gentle, his lips parting just enough that you could taste the whiskey on his breath. He leaned his body into yours, the hips that had been moving with yours on the dance floor pressing into you a different way now. A familiar ache sparked low in your stomach as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure how long he kissed you, but after a moment, he pulled back, a little breathless.

“Why don’t we go inside?” He said softly.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening the door behind you.

Things moved a lot faster then. His hands slid the straps of your dress down your arms before your door was fully closed. He reached to lock it while you fumbled with the buckle of his belt. His lips were on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, his hands ranging over every inch of skin they could reach before sliding your dress down to pool on the floor. You pulled at the buttons of his shirt until you were able to shove it off and he quickly unclipped your bra. He looked down at your bare chest, panting for breath a little.

“Damn,” he said. “Don’t regret not seein’ the dress anymore. This is so much fuckin’ better.”

He stepped out of his boots quickly and you unbutton and unzipped his pants. You kicked off your sandals and he tugged your panties down, leaving them on the floor as you pulled him against you toward your bed. He paused, your legs against the bed, his hands holding you gently.

“You sure you’re good with this?” He asked.

“Just kiss me, Miller,” you said. He wasted no time obliging.

You pulled him onto your bed with you, his weight settling easily between your thighs. He slid a hand down your body to your pussy, softly tracing your clit for a moment before pressing his fingers against you, working you in slow, longing circles. You moaned against his mouth, rocking your hips against his hand. You felt him smile against your lips.

Tommy slipped a thick finger inside you, exploring you, the tip brushing your inner walls until he found the spot that made your toes curl. He added another finger, working both of them against the place inside you, adding his thumb to your clit until your back arched and you came with a loud moan around him.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” he pressed his lips to your collar bone. “Gonna need you to do that again while I’m inside you… you’ve got me fuckin’ desperate for it…”

“Then get inside me,” you panted, reaching between your bodies to take his cock in your hand. He was thick, hard, not so long that you were worried about whether or not he would fit but long enough that you knew he would fill you. You worked him up and down, spreading the wetness from his tip over him.

“Tryin’ to kill me, I swear,” he said, slipping his fingers from inside you to himself, brushing your hand away. He lined himself up with your entrance, pressed his lips to yours and thrust into you.

The stretch was immediate, a sharp but pleasant burn as he sank into you. He moaned against your lips and you rocked your hips against him, making his movements stutter.

“You trying to make me cum before I’m even inside you?” He gasped. “Fucking hell, girl.”

He thrust the rest of the way inside you in one quick, hard motion, making your back arch, pulling a delicious moan from your lips. His arm slipped below you, pulling your torso flush with his as he began to fuck into you, his thick cock sliding out to just the tip before thrusting back against your back wall with every stroke. You clung to him as his lips found your throat, your breasts, his hard length moving faster, more forcefully every time. The tip of him was hitting the spot inside you with every movement, your second orgasm building fast.

“Fuck, I’m going to…” you managed. He thrust harder, your sentence ending in a strangled cry.

“Won’t last when you do,” he gasped. “Where can I…”

“I’m on the pill,” you said quickly.

“Thank fuck.”

He picked up the pace, holding himself deep inside you every few strokes, your body tightening and coiling around him until you felt the taught band of pleasure snap, your core pulsing around him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” he groaned, thrusting two more times before collapsing on top of you, both of you limp and gasping for breath.

He pressed his lips to your throat, still deep inside you, and you saw the picture frame with Joel and Sarah on your nightstand out of the corner of your eye. While he was distracted, you reached up and silently set it face down before wrapping your arms around the man in your bed.

A/N: THAT'S RIGHT GUYS SHE'S GETTING WITH BOTH BROTHERS AND JOEL FUCKING HATES IT. This has been building since literally day one of this story lol. Tommy has had a crush on her FOREVER and now it's finally paying off - for him and for us (because we get the drama of it)

I have a taglist, so if you'd like to be included, just comment below! Thank you so so much for reading and following along. I hope you enjoy the drama and the angst! Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #tommy miller

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604to647 · 5 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 5 (The Courtship)

2.7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: A week's time passes before your next date with Din and you can hardly wait.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), Just more fluff (but horny fluff?), lots of making out again, reader is horny as heck, mention of alcohol consumption (reader gets a little tipsy), usual pet names (pretty bird, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc.), ONE "good girl", ONE dick joke.

A/N: Can you tell my love language is acts of service? 🥰 As this takes place over the course of a week, I'm using a brand new divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics to help denote the passage of time. Thank you for all the support! Sorry for the slow burn!

Optional musical soundtrack: Seven by Jung Kook & Latto (Clean version)

Series Masterlist

“He wants to court you?!”

Hands covering your blushing face, you peek through your fingers, “That’s the exact word he used.”

“I thought you said he was in his 40s, not from the 1840s,” jokes Bea.

The usual brunch group dissolves into fits of laughter. “I felt like a silent movie villain twirling my mustache, trying to steal his virtue,” you giggle, “He was so sweet about it though, I think it might be kind of nice… to not… get railed.” The table roars.

Rory looks serious, “Honestly, babe. Any way he makes you happy, as long as you’re happy…”

“I’m happy”, you smile dreamily.

“…but next week you better come to brunch with a sex limp.”

Your mortified waiter chooses this moment to set down the mimosas and you cry actual tears from laughing so hard.

The next week turns out to be crazy busy for you at work; a project deadline gets pushed up to the Friday and you know all your week nights are spoken for. You share with Din your disappointment that you won’t be free for a second date until the work week is over.

“I’m sad too, pretty bird. How about I plan a nice relaxing date for Saturday, help you decompress after your hard week?”

You almost say that you can think of something specific he could do to help you decompress, but you think Monday morning might be too early for you to be so horny. Instead, you thank him for his thoughtfulness and tell him you can’t wait, “It’s a date.”

Your day is so full of meetings and review that you barely leave you desk; the periodic messages in the GC or from Din checking in on you are some of your only moments of reprieve during your hectic day.

At 6:30 pm your stomach rumbles, and you realize you haven’t eaten all day; groaning, you realize you’re looking at at least 3 more hours of work before you can go home and heat something up. You hear your name and you look up to see one of your team members escorting Din off the elevator and pointing towards your office.

He’s a sight for your tired eyes and you melt into his open arms, ““Hi! This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?” Din’s arm wraps around you, then reaches up to give your tired shoulders a brief but deep massage before he pulls back to show you the brown bag he has in his other hand.

“Know you didn’t eat lunch today, pretty girl. Thought you might be in danger of forgetting dinner, too.”

You could cry from the gesture. Pulling him into your office and closing the door, you kiss him quickly but tenderly, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My pleasure. Now eat.”

Din sits and waits for you to start digging in before getting up to go. You ask about his dinner, and if he wants to share yours – but he lets you know he understands you have a lot work and he doesn’t want to distract you; he had been worried he was overstepping by showing up unannounced at your place of work, but seeing how ravenous you are for the food he brought, he’s glad he came. You wave off his concerns, and give him your approval of his takeout choice in between big bites. When he hears that you think you might not be able to get away until close to 10 pm, he frowns, “Text me when you’re 5 minutes away from leaving, I’ll come pick you up.”

“It’s oka—”

He stops you with a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll feel better if I can see you safely home at that hour. Can you do that for me, pretty bird?”

You nod, touched.

At 10:10 pm, Din is waiting outside your office, leaning against his truck and watching you wave goodbye to your co-workers, joke crying that you’ll see each other again in less than 10 hours. You’re so tired you close your eyes and lean your head against Din’s shoulder as he drives; he holds your hand the entire way home.

Din waits downstairs while you go in and get Al, walking him with you the same way he did the other night. Before sending you upstairs afterwards, he wraps you up in his arms, once again running his hands firmly over the stiffness in your back from sitting at your desk all day, kissing you long and hard. Barely keeping his breathing under control, Din whispers, “Missed you today, baby.” You pull yourself closer to Din, tilting your head back far enough to rest your chin on his chest and look deep in his eyes; playing with the curls at the base of his neck, you mouth, “Me too,” before opening up your mouth to his one last time before going in.

The next day, Tuesday, Din brings you lunch (“Can’t have you missing your lunch again, sweetheart”) and sits with you while you eat at your desk, watching you answer emails and the occasional question from a colleague who pops into your office. You don’t have to work quite so late today, and are able get home at a reasonable hour (8 pm?) to have dinner. Din still comes by later that night after closing up the gym to walk the dog, and also to bring you another surprise: your dry-cleaning from Peli’s. So glad to be spared the errand, you thank Din with a grateful kiss before asking him how much you owe him. Din gives you a look, to which you respond with a look of your own before sighing, “I’m too tired to do this right now, but this isn’t over, Djarin.” Din puts his hands up in mock surrender and grins, “Anything you say, pretty bird.”

Before parting for the evening, the two of you make out like teenagers: hurried and excited, sometimes clashing teeth and bumping noses from impatience, then giggling before crashing your mouths together again.

On Wednesday, Din brings you dinner again and this time, brings enough for your whole team. After accepting their copious thanks, at your insistence that he isn’t a distraction, he stays and eats with you this time. You happily let yourself escape a little from work through easy conversation with Din; he’s also easy on the eyes tonight in casual sweats, and you try to maintain a modicum of professionalism at work by not letting your eyes and thoughts drift down past the waistband of his sweatpants. For being semi-successful, you allow yourself a few less than professional kisses after dinner. His visit leaves you rejuvenated, and you power through the remainder of your work, missing Din already and eager to see him again for your nightly dog walk. Al has adapted quickly to the new routine, and after the walk, lays down on the sidewalk, seemingly waiting for you and Din to have your nightly make out session. Tonight, Din has you cradled against his shoulder, hands running over your body and face in long gentle strokes. He knows you’re exhausted from work, and wants more than anything to relax you so he can send you upstairs pliant and languid, in hopes you’ll fall into bed right away and get the rest you need. Your kisses tonight are unhurried, long and sweet. You’re already half asleep when Din finally releases you and sends you in with a gentle pat on your rear.

Thursday turns out to be you and your team’s longest, hardest day, the last full work day before the Friday deadline. Din picks you up very late from the office, and you take up your usual position, resting your head on his shoulders while he drives. This time though, you’re wide awake, jazzed up from your team’s progress and how close you all are to pulling everything off. Din holds your hand just like the drive on Monday, but periodically brings it to his lips to pepper your knuckles with light kisses. As he drives, you can’t help but stare at the hand that rests on the wheel, and how it flexes as he steers one-handedly. You can barely conceal how much you want this man to touch you; you steal glances at Din’s handsome profile as he concentrates on the road, squirming in your seat the entire drive. Heat and desire bubble below your stomach as you hope that same hand grips your body hard tonight when his mouth ravages yours.

As if you were clairvoyant, tonight’s post-dog walk make-out session is hungry and intense. At one point, Din has you pressed up against your building, heavy breathing while his hands roam up and down your sides, close to but never groping your breasts. You’re worked up and needy and you let Din know by moaning into his mouth as he kisses you. Din looks sternly at you, panting, “You can’t be making those pretty noises, baby. You’ll drive me crazy.”

Giving him a little smirk, you push up on your tip toes and kiss him open mouthed, this time making sure to press your core against his thigh and give him a drawn out, throaty groan.

Din breaks this kiss by gripping the hands on your waist tighter, and placing you firmly back on your feet, “Now, I thought you were going to be my good girl.”

Your eyes widen, his words shooting straight to the throbbing spot between your legs; “Fuck,” you breathe.

Din hadn’t expected this reaction, but he quickly catches on, “Oh you like that, do you?”

“Mmmhmmm,” you whimper, as you close your eyes and Din slots his mouth over yours again; neither of you even trying to stop your moans this time as the kisses get deeper and harder.

“Fuck,” whispers Din when he finally comes up for air, “I’m in so much trouble.”

You look up at him, slightly stunned and unfocused, “Me too.”

Din gently cups your face and looks at you with seriousness, “Pretty bird, I hope you know just how much I want you. You feel so good. And sound so good, too. You’re also… precious to me; I want to take my time with you, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur as you pull him back in for a series of soft kisses, “Al says you can take your time.”

Friday passes in a frenzy with last minute prep for the deadline presentation. Everything goes off without a hitch, and the whole team ends the day early, opting to go out for afternoon drinks and then dinner to celebrate hard work and a job well done. When you talk to Din before heading out, he gives you a hearty congratulations and tells you to have a great time, offering to give you a ride home after (extending the kind offer to your co-workers as well), “Have a good time, pretty bird. You deserve it.”

Afternoon drinks plus dinner wine, plus post dinner celebratory champagne have you feeling giddy and buzzed by the time you ask Din to pick you up. You’re not drunk, but you’re carefree, happy and your inhibitions are definitely down. And all you want is Din. You want to see his lazy grin. You want to run your hands over his broad back as he hugs you. You want his hands and mouth on you. You want him. You practically climb into his arms when you see him waiting for you outside the bar.

Din laughs warmly, “Had a good time, sweet girl?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm,” you hum, face buried in his neck. Fuck, he smells good.

Brushing the hair away from your face, he takes in your goofy grin and bright eyes, trying to assess if you’re drunk, but is cut short when you pounce and kiss him with hurried eagerness. He grins against your mouth; yep, you’re tipsy. And it’s making you even more incorrigible and adorable than usual; Din isn’t sure he can resist you like this, but he’s going to try, “Okay, let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

Din helps you into the car, and after you buckle yourself in, he gives you a chaste kiss on your head before closing the door. While he is rounding the car, you can’t help but pout a little. Din said he wants you, but you feel like you definitely want him more – you can barely keep from jumping him at every opportunity, and he seems to remain ever calm and sometimes unreadable, resisting your (albeit mild) advances with little to no effort.

Holding your hand again as he drives, Din notices you don’t rest your head against his shoulder like usual; he looks over and observes a somewhat melancholy look on your face as you look out the window. He gives your hand a little squeeze, “Everything okay, pretty bird? Why do you look kind of sad?”

Even under normal circumstances you consider yourself a fairly direct person, preferring to address things rather than let them simmer, but the alcohol tonight is making you downright brave, and you let your feelings pour out ineloquently, “Don’t get me wrong, Din - I don’t mind waiting and taking things slow. And I think it’s really sweet you want to, so I’m not trying to put any pressure on. But…I guess I’m just feeling kind of sad that I’m the only one who finds waiting hard."

Maybe you are drunk; your words sound a little bratty even to your ears, but you don’t know how else to express your likely unwarranted feelings of rejection. Feeling a little embarrassed for being so needy, you look down at your lap.

If you didn’t have such a sad expression on your face, Din might have laughed at the idea that it’s been easy for him to keep his hands off of you. At every turn, your charm and pretty face threaten to make him snap, and it consistently takes every ounce of his discipline and self control to not break his resolve and take you hard on the closest available surface. All he wants to do, all he thinks about is making you feel good; not a night goes by where he doesn’t imagine what you might look like underneath him, crying out his name while he gives you every ounce of pleasure that he can. The car idles at a stoplight and Din reaches over to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and then trails his fingers down you jaw, gently pinching your chin and turning your face up to look at his. “Sweet girl, please don’t feel that way. It’s not true,” he grins bashfully.

“It isn’t?”

“Not at all. You’re not the only one; it’s hard for me too.” He tilts his head down, nodding slightly at his lap and you follow his gaze to the crotch of his pants. Your eyes widen at what you see. It’s a monster. You clasp your hand over your mouth to stifle a nervous laugh; how is that suppose to fit??

Din starts moving the car again and, in a way that’s clearly tongue in cheek, teases, “Excuse me, missy. Are you laughing at my erection?”

You giggle and can’t pass up the opportunity, “You said ‘it’s hard for me too’,” and laugh so hard, you snort.

Din’s laugh booms throughout the car. And just like that, your little crisis of self doubt is averted, and the two of you are laughing uncontrollably, grinning like idiots. It’s not lost on Din how amazing this feels: even with dumb dick jokes and the promise of no sex, he is completely enamoured with you.

Tonight, the kisses are positively sinful. Deep and passionate; you’re pressed up against the wall again, but this time Din has you caged in with his forearm braced above your head, possessive of your body. His other hand cupping the back of your head, pulling you in for kiss after kiss: hungry kisses on your lips, hurried kisses down your neck, breathy kisses behind your ears. Your hands are fisted into his shirt, both of you pulling each other in for more, more. More.

You’re the one to pull away first, needing to catch your breath; Din touches his forehead to yours, “See you tomorrow for our second date, pretty bird.”

Dazed, you remember it’s only been a week and one date with Din. How are you ever going to survive this man?

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #modern au #modern!din djarin #no y/n

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rocketturtle4 · 10 months

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Be My Favorite - When is the present actually the future?

I’m pretty sure writing this is about to consume my entire Saturday but by the time I wake up tomorrow La Pluie will have been out for 6 hours and my Sunday brain will have other things to think about! (it actually only took about half of it so I'm considering that a win)

I have read through my Tumblr feed for people’s thoughts on the latest Be My Favorite episode and I absolutely have to share because I found that while ideas and themes explored mirrored my own thoughts, the conclusions people were putting forth about where the show might be going were completely different.

(Posts I don't specifically reference in this but that which I definitely read and you should too include @syrena-del-mar and @shouldiusemyname here and @chickenstrangers here )

Also shoutout to @bengiyo because I used your sarge watches to reduce how much I had to go back and watch things.

LETS CLOWN

(am I, am I using it right? I have so many questions about the LINGO and I don’t know who to ask)

My Hypothesis: Kawi is going to be faced with the ultimate choice of remaining in the past or the present when the crystal ball runs out of charge and he will choose to remain in the past where he must face his uncertain future.

Okay, stay with me please

Question 1: When is Kawi actually in the present?

Last week I made a throw away post about the time travel being a metaphor for being unable to skip ahead in life without consequences. In particular this scene (a flashback at the very end of episode 4):

Got my brain thinking about how Kawi and the people around him freeze in their character development whenever he jumps forward, so maybe his present is actually in the past.

EVIDENCE

Timeline 1: OG Future

In this timeline Kawi essentially froze the moment the crystal ball was broken. In the OG Future he is distantly acquainted with classmates, sad for the death of his father (from whom he was distant), distant from Max and has never drunk any alcohol. This is all directly reflective of where he was at the time he broke the crystal ball.

Timeline 2: Future 2 – He’s Pisaengs best man

In this timeline he’s been back in the past, and acted very unlike himself because he assumes he's dreaming. At the end of this timeline he ends up in the very early stages of becoming Piseang’s bestie. We have not yet had serious (feelings) tension between Piseang and Kawi, only a single night of bonding and I would argue that in this particular future timeline, Piseang is not in love with Kawi. He has become a platonic bestie (something that could never happen without the time skip) because these were the emotions Kawi and Piseang had for each other in the past even if these were pretty fledgling emotions when Kawi left. (Also, Kawi now drinks heavily, something he did for the first time in this immediate past when he thought it was a dream).

Timeline 3: Future 3: Piseang is in love with him and abandons his own wedding.

In the past Kawi is more intentional with his actions to change things. We also see his confusion around how he became Piseangs best man because as Kawi continues to grow and learn this option doesn’t make sense (But as a frozen version of the previous past's future…) (I'm losing track of the tense I can feel it)

In this timeline we have only progressed slightly further through the past but all the development was around Kawi and Piseang and Piseang’s growing feelings (Piseang getting Kawi the plushie happens in this Future’s linked Past). And we come forward to Piseang finally giving into his feelings and kissing Kawi. This scene is very similar to Piseang almost kissing Kawi in the past in the following episode (episode 3) when they fall over because in Piseang’s arc these things happened at a pretty similar point in time, its just that in this future he was frozen at his point of realization until Kawi’s consciousness returned to his body on the morning of Piseang’s wedding. He could only act after Kawi was back to being old!Kawi, because of things being frozen.

Timeline 4: He’s Famous and it’s a mess

In the linked past here, Kawi has JUST debuted as a lead singer, has turned down Piseang kindly but Piseang has made his devotion clear, has decided to date Pear ‘because he’s in love with her’ BUT Pear is feeling uncertain about her place in Kawi’s life (evidence: both the bar scene with Not, and the hospital scene) and is friends with Max again. (Also I'm not sure if I already linked @lurkingshans post with Kawi 'interupting his own growth arc midstream.' it definitely kicked my brain into gear)

In the future he is a famous singer, distant but close to Piseang, and friends with Max (why has Max stuck with him huh?) also Not and Pear and Kwan provide, in my opinion, strong evidence for their frozenness because we’ve just seen in the past that Not has feelings for Pear and Kwan has feelings for Not, and this is the exact feelings scenario we get in the future. There has been no change. They're frozen in their feelings from 12 years ago.

We also have had posts about the idea that Kawi has gotten drunk and kissed Piseang multiple times through this jump. (Which makes perfect sense if you freeze his character at this exact point of uncertain feelings that are being ignored) (@piningintrovert here) (also this post where for some reason my @ won't let me tag dropthedemiurge IM SORRY) (also here) @becomingabeing

Also his alcoholism is spiralling because he has not learnt anything about drinking responsibly in the (mere days/weeks) it’s been since episode 1 started (and alcoholism is definitely more complicated, but in this specific context you have an individual that’s just started drinking heavily because they’ve discovered alcohol and their life is super confusing and these habits aren't checked or changed because his growth is frozen, there are simply the consequences) (not saying this is the case just the case in the context of this theory)

Counterpoint

Kawi’s dad has survived surgery in the past but is still dead in the future.

I don’t necessarily think this is strong evidence against my point but it’s worth mentioning.

Question 2:

How does Kawi’s Memory Work in these Futures?

This is a separate thread but it’s related to my theory because in Timeline’s 2 & 3, Kawi appeared to have no memory of the intervening years. (Inference: He hasn't really lived them)

Timeline 4 was a little different but the memories seemed to need specific triggers (speaking aloud, seeing a person) to come back. We saw in his arguments with Pear and Piseang that he DID seem to gain and settle into his memories more as he thought about the intervening past (intervening past = the time between when he left the past and arrived in Future 4).

We see 2 different flashbacks of the ‘Pear leave’s Kawi’ moments. 1 seemed to be Kawi remembering (trigger is when he sees Pear for the first time). 2 seems to be Piseangs own memories (flashbacks are always so frustrating because who is remembering? Is Kawi remembering this too?.

Kawi also just slips into being less jaded and work focused than his (frozen) future self apparently is. (Sudden carfree metaphorical ocean romp definitely relevant here)

ALSO Kawi freaks out about his own memory in episode 7 3/4 10.30 (re Piseang’s new number) (this almost felt like young!Kawi was overlayed with old!Kawi and so we were getting conflicting reasons for the memory lapse (is he sick? did he call Piseangs old number as young!Kawi without thinking?)

Counterpoint

The scene at the very end of episode 7 threw a small but solid spanner in the works of my brain because when does this scene take place? Piseang says eight years, original jump forward was 12 (I think) so therefor this is in the intervening years. Which I kind of thought of as frozen/fairly nonexistent (Except specifically when a character thinks about them) so I am not sure how this scene fits in.

This could be something Kawi will specifically think about before going back in time

(see this post for more clowning @sparklyeyedhimbo)

(side note, his jacket looks super similar to the flashback jacket in this counterpoint scene - it's not the same one though)

How old is Kawi’s brain?

I also made a throw away post about this last week, I have no clearer thoughts on this except that it’s intriguing to ask how old the Kawi traversing between the past and the future actually is? This post is so long I’m just going to link it. It’s not very fleshed out.

Side Point

One thing that floated into my brain while thinking about all this was the recent Step By Step episode and the dissatisfaction everyone felt about the time skips. So often used as a means of progressing a characters life while rarely showing meaningful character growth.

Could this whole show be a commentary on time skips and their conceptual flaws as a means of fast-tracking character growth?

I think it’s a bit of a reach, but I also don’t tend to read into directors/creators intentions as much so I thought I’d put it out there for people to chew over.

Additional hypotheses/questions I’m chewing on:

Q: Will his dad survive if he chooses to stay in the past to take care of him?

Q: How many sets of memories does he have, does he remember any of the intervening past between main past timeline and future 2 and main past timeline and future 3? Are the memories getting overlayed?

Conclusion

As @lurkingshan pointed out, Kawi interrupts his character growth when he jumps forward in time. We have to go back in time to keep growing. Yet we’ve gone back and forward and back and forward 4 times now and the future is always messy because the characters can’t live on without change for 12 years and still grow together. I could absolutely see the show choosing to go in the direction put forth by @wen-kexing-apologist and @stuffnonsenseandotherthings here also @lurkingshan and @ginnymoonbeam have interesting thoughts about Kawi having to stop trying to change the future and live with his choices to move forward.

It's just that I think he is going to do that in the past giving up his chance to jump forward without growth. Because he has to choose not to know where he is going, to truly live in the present.

Savy?

(please point out all the holes in my theory, I am so invested I need some PERSPECTIVE)

#be my favorite #be my favorite meta #be my favorite time travel #be my favorite the sereis #rturts is wondering

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