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mysteria157 · 2 months

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex

WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)

Summary:

Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.

So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | **Sequel**

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“Can I get you a drink, princess?”

When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year.

Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead.

The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.

The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture.

The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.

Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.

Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.

But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.

“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”

“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”

“How much you bench?”

It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.

Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.

Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less.

They can’t stand it.

And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together.

Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for.

Princess.

Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown.

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”

Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.

You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.

Four, six, eight?

Fuck.

You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does.

His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.

“See something you like?”

He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.

“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”

You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.

The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin.

You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.

Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.

A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.

You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship.

However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.

God, get yourself together.

To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard.

You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention.

Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.

You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely.

To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’.

“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”

“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”

“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”

Bullshit.

It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.

But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.

Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.

You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.

Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today.

You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.

Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.

“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”

There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later.

You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.

“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”

You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.

“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”

You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face.

“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”

You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.

Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war.

You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’ in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.

The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—

The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.

“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.”

Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.

It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices.

“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”

“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.

In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”

When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat.

“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”

It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today.

Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh.

Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude.

Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.

“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”

He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.

“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”

That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage.

But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.

And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.

So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression.

“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”

Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath.

“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.

“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.

You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot.

“The whole package, princess.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.

His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now.

You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think.

Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.

“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.

He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.

“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”

“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.

He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.

“What’s it going to take?”

His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.

“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”

He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.

“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.

“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”

He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.

“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.

He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”

He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”

But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”

Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior.

Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it.

“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”

At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess.

His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you.

The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.

She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.

“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”

***

He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.

“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.

“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off.

You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.

You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.

“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way.

Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.

Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—

“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.

“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”

He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.

Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.

“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth.

“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.

She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”

“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”

She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”

There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.

And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it.

Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.

Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.

You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.

“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips.

One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”

You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.

Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.

“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.

“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”

You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.

***

“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.

You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits.

You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”

For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease.

It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”

You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.

“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.

You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.

You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.

“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them.

He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.

“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.

It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.

So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.

Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.

“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.

You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”

“Cali?’ he questions, confused.

You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”

“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”

“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.

“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”

You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh.

“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”

The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”

“In relation to what?”

His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—

“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”

He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.

You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”

The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.

“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.

“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”

You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond.

“I…depends…are you any good?”

He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.

“Jury’s still out.”

You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.

You deserve a reward.

So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.

“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”

You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.

***

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent.

You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.

Should you tell Toji goodbye?

No.

No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—

For fuck’s sake.

You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.

You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.

Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight.

“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.

“Why not?”

Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”

Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.

Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist.

One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.

“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.

He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of.

His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.

You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.

He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—

You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—

He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger.

“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.

One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.

You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.

“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”

You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed.

You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.

“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.

You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.

He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.

“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”

You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.

But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”

Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.

“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.

He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.”

The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.

Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right.

And god, does Toji do it right.

He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling.

The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel.

“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”

He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart.

Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.

“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”

His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.

By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.

“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges.

“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”

With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him.

“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”

“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.

“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt.

“Is that a problem?”

The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.

“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”

Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.

So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time.

You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—

“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.

Huh?

You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.

“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.

He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before.

“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”

“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.

Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.

He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.

It’ll pass.

And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.

“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.”

When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.

Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.

He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.

“Hop on, princess.”

Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.

Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.

You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.

“Am I nice and hot?”

“Yes, fuck yes, baby.”

It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours.

You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.

“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”

You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.

“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”

He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.

You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again.

You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.

His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in.

He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter.

“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”

He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.

“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”

You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.

“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.”

You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask.

The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum.

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.

You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.

The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.

There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.

The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.

“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.

“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”

“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”

Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.

Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.

“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”

The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--

‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’

It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.

You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels.

He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on.

His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you.

You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.

“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.

“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line.

“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”

His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders.

The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.

He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him.

“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”

He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.

He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat.

When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you.

“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”

Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.

You lied.

Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder.

Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you.

It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone.

The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.

***

“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.

You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure.

As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.

“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”

“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”

“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”

She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.

“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”

James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.

“Girl, fuck you.”

Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.

Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint.

“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”

Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”

“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”

“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”

You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil.

You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.

You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.

“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”

“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”

“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.

You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”

He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.

“Listen—”

You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”

That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.

“Fuck, will you stop—”

“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.

“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.

“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes.

He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”

“I said—”

“Oh my fucking god—I like you!”

His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.

“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod.

“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.

“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”

He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.

“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.”

You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.

“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”

What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is.

“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.

He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches.

“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”

It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them.

“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.

That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it.

“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me.”

“I…”

It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it.

The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.

“One date, princess.”

The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth.

Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.

You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards.

“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”

He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door.

“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.

He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.

For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”

You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—

A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.

When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.

You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.

When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier.

You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.

Thanks for reading! You can find the sequel here!

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rafesgoldrings · 10 months

Note

thinking real hard about rafe cooking burgers and hot dogs on a grill with his shirt off, reader sitting by the pool with everyone at their 4th of july party and it’s about 5-6pm ish for visual effects.

i’m actually kicking my feet about this

I’m so so sorry i’m just now getting to this! I hope everyone had a good fourth of July (if you guys do anything for it)

So…I think we know where i’m going with this one🤭 trophy wife reader and Rafe hosting their annual 4th of July celebration at their house. You made all the invitations and sent them to all your friends/family a week prior, taking note of everyone who said they’d be there. The day finally came and you were wearing your favorite bikini, you walked outside to wait by the pool once you finished the decorations. It was over the top and extravagant, red, white, and blue themed decor in every possible spot. Even the pool had some decorations, balloons floating lazily around the water as it rippled gently. Everyone started arriving around 5 and Rafe fired up the grill, wearing only his swim trunks that hung low on his hips showing off his abs, and you put on the playlist you’d created. You kept sneaking glances at him while having conversations with your friends, he just looked so good that you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t believe he was all yours and this was really your life.

Once the food was done, everyone sat at the tables you had set out and enjoyed a meal, drinks, dessert, and being able to just relax and have fun after stressing so often at work. After everyone had eaten and the food had time to settle, you’d all hopped into the pool to cool off. Rafe swam up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, softly kissing the side of your neck “Hi baby, you look beautiful. Did an amazing job with everything”. You let out a small giggle and thank him, turning around to face him and give him a kiss while wrapping your arms around his neck.

The speaker you had set out started playing your favorite song and Rafe picked you up and began dancing to the best of his ability with you in the water, laughing as you squealed and squirmed around while everyone watched with smiles. The sun had long set and it was getting late so you decided it was time for fireworks, telling Rafe to get them out of the pool house and get them ready. You’d had them put together so all you had to do was light them and they’d put on a big show, no need to light each individual one so you could watch them together.

Everyone watched in awe as the colorful bursts of light exploded and boomed into the sky, eyes lighting up with each new firework. You and Rafe were sitting on the ground wrapped up in each others arms, his chin resting on the top of your head as you just enjoyed the moment. It felt like a movie, everything just perfect and too good to be true, but this was how life was everyday with him. It always felt like a fairytale and Rafe ensured it stayed that way, sex or no sex.

“I love you, so much” he said softly, pulling away to look into your eyes and give you a kiss. It was random, but the pure domesticity of everything was stirring up his emotions. He never thought he’d end up here, with a beautiful wife, gorgeous home that was equal parts of both you and him, hosting events like this with friends and family that he actually enjoyed, and all of it was due to you giving him a chance.

“I love you baby” you gave him a lazy smile, placing a few more small kisses on his lips and laughing as he pulled you to the ground with him. The both of you on your backs just watching the fireworks go off, wrapped up in each other like nobody was around, the ring on your finger reflecting every color that went off in the night sky and shining so bright, this was the moment you’d dreamt of your whole life and you couldn’t be happier.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #outerbanks rafe #trophy wife! reader x rafe #asks <3

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equallyshaw · 3 months

Text

little lion | Luke hughes au! ↠ all about luke and liona. ↠ au Masterlist! ↠ also not in order, these are random thoughts!

met in october 2023

they do not officially date until 11/04/2023

split time back and fourth between newark and greenwich village

the type of couple to wake up at sunrise, get a coffee and bagel from the corner truck and walk through central park

luke is for sure the one that runs into pigeons and acting like a fool

only to get kailey to laugh

life's mission of luke is to make kailey happy and laugh at all times

intimate touching instead of kissing in public, always having to hold hands or have a hand on a thigh, of their lower back. especially if they go out at night, luke makes sure they are glued to each other at all times

the most competitive board gamers (monoply- absolute feral and scene it harry potter- she will kill whoever- including luke to win. so will luke.)

kailey got luke into harry potter and made him read the books early on in their relationship

actually, she got him onto reading in general. will read anything now.

luke demands one broadway show a month from kailey, meaning they put on the cast album and she belts out the songs with him.

luke absolutely adores kaileys mom, helen. will constantly ask about her and shamelessly asks for home cooked meals from her.

kailey adores it and whenever he gets homesick, she brings him over to her mom's or invites her to hang out and he's grateful for the relationship

luke does not meet alex until July when she invites him out to Washington dc for a visit

one of their favorite dates is to go to painting or paint pottery

they also like to go to watch movies, because she is a movie fanatic and it's something simple to do

her first game that she goes to is the last home game before christmas break, with a win over detroit

nicknames for kailey: pretty girl, calls her by her middle name 'kai', my romashka - meaning my cammie or chamomile, and my lioness

nicknames for luke: pookie, lukey, my love, darling, and Mashunechka (an generic intimate nickname)

huge fans of ice cream and ice cream dates

huge sweettoothes in general

when summer comes around, kailey visits michigan as much as she can between working her nannying job and working at the local bookstore in georgtown.

once her dad finds out about him, kailey and him go to cape cod

around their 6 month mark, kailey see's something on social media and quickly feels like luke might be cheating on her based on the limited space between the two. she even calls her dad about it, but does not mention specifics.

their song is: say yes to heaven, by lana del ray

just like how people belt out to taylor swift and are obsessed with her? that's them with olivia rodrigo and tate mcrae. no hesitation.

when kailey's in a particular mood or stressed with school, luke will come over to her apartment or she will come to his and jacks and they will have a star wars marathon.

as a fashion major, she feels entitled to update his fashion. as well as jacks, because they both need it.

she researches curly hair routines, and the both of them continuously try new things to find out the perfect routine, for him.

she teaches him russian, dubbed "little lion lessons". she teaches him the basics and simple greetings and conversation words. he surprises her though about six months in when she is having a harder time with her mental health, and gives her a whole ass talk in russian and like she thought that she knew he was the one she wanted to marry. but she REALLY knew he was the one.

luke learns enough russian to have a basic conversation with kailey and alex. alex is pretty stunned to say the least. he goes, "you mean he didn't flunk out of highschool?" in old slavic to which luke didnt understand.

uncle geno is the BIGGEST fan of the two

she tells him before she tells her dad

when pittsburgh visits new jersey, he invites her out to dinner along with luke.

in summer of 2024, she joins the cast of hadestown at the off broadway theater for a limited time run as eurydice, for the month of august. luke comes to her first week of shows before heading to michigan to get some things settled, before pulling quinn, jack and his parents for the finale on the 29th. after a two-day staycation, her and luke head back up to nyc and jersey for the year.

cape cod is their place - they get a offseason house in 2028.

luke and kailey ended up going 4 times during their first summer being together

they have a very important talk one morning over coffee and croissants and just know that that is where they are meant to visit at least once an offseason.

some angsty thoughts:

once she graduates in 2026, she has a hard time figuring out what she wants to do. her dream is to open a boutique clothing store in manhattan somewhere or on the cape or georgetown, but doesn't know short term.

ends up going to Washington for about two months, and it just so happened to be when alex was moving from Washington to new york to get back together with kaileys mom once he retires at the age of 41, a year after kailey graduates, he and her mom decide to give things a go again after some really good years the past few.

but she's in Washington while he is back in michigan, and even though luke is trying his hardest to give her the space she needs and craves, its difficult. he is moody af and at times does NOT train.

kailey calls sent a text over in july, stating she needed a break for a bit and that she would reconnect with him once the season begins.

luke has such a shit show of a summer after that + the beginning of season.

kailey spends july through September in the hamptoms with her parents, after alex helping fulfill her mom's dream. summer in the hamptons. (for longer than a week)

luke gets hella jealous because andrei visits for a week in august before heading back to carolinas. he hates how close the two are now that they are on a break.

OH and he also does not like her bestie chris, and thinks he still is in love with her but we'll get a blurb for that at some point hehe

when kailey returns to nyc with her parents she does not expect to see luke in the city.

he always used to say he hated the city when he was not with her

that the reason he loved the city with her, was because she gave it life and energy. he loved seeing it through her eyes.

she was very shocked to see him and he was stunned too. he didn't expect to see her the first time he headed into the city.

but nico being the swiss princess that he is, has to come up and greet her when she goes to dinner with her parents at Soho house

and then the rest of the group comes up, and alex is NOT happy

he doesn't care for any of them, she whispers in russian "be nice dad."

but he see's luke and relaxes a bit.

he really likes luke and began to feel like maybe they could be the real deal before their break.

but anywho

alex talks some sense into his daughter (calls her a dummy) and literally drops her off at the train station to head down to jersey to talk to him. (will get blurb at some point!)

and she does

and yknow, they get back together and what not.

and ofcourse, not without luke promising that he's gonna marry her one day. even though they had talked about it many times, and their future together- she knew it to be soon.

hope you all enjoyed!

please like and reblog if you did (:

#Luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes au #little lion au #luke hughes x ovechkin #alexander ovechkin #Jack hughes #washington capitals #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine

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sees-writes · 4 months

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Rereading Fablehaven so here are some headcanons

The fairies in FH universe are undoubtedly beautiful but also are equipped with sharp fangs that hurt a lot when they bite someone

After Kendra becomes fairykind her ears become slightly pointed and her teeth become sharper but the sharp fangs are only visible to those that have drank the milk

Vanessa has multiple tattoos

Warren has one tattoo which is very small because it hurt so much but he wears it with a badge of honor (he will never admit it was dare or that it’s a butterfly)

Ruth Sorensen has a tattoo which very few people have seen but apparently it’s pretty bad ass

Kendra and Seth took it upon themselves to get Warren up to date on pop culture stuff after he woke up. Seth covered memes and Kendra covered pretty much everything else

Kendra has a rather diverse music taste (much to most people’s surprise) and loves to make playlists for people

Seth will not admit that he listens to the playlists Kendra made him daily

After the death of Kendra’s stingbulb Warren didn’t listen to the playlists Kendra had made him and instead listened to her favorite songs on repeat

Dale grows numerous plants around his home and names them all. He also knows all of the livestock animals by name

Small animals have a habit of imprinting in Dale whether he likes it or not. This extends to magical animals as well

Dale became very fond of Seth. Warren got very attached to Kendra.

Stan Sorensen doesn’t drink often but one time during the holidays when everyone was drinking, Warren attempted to keep up with Stan and ended up very shitfaced

Stan walked away fine

Kendra can and will cuss someone out when needed, especially after Zzyzz. Vanessa and Warren are very proud, everyone else is terrified

Seth snuck fireworks into Fablehaven for the Fourth of July and many of the creatures requested that he do it again

Seth made the mistake of stealing from Kendra’s plate once and she hit him, fangs and all, he never did it again

Warren is the only one that can steal food from Kendra without getting bitten

Seth is not very touchy feely when he’s awake but when he’s asleep he will latch onto the nearest person

Warren is 100% a cuddler, so is Kendra, they can and will struggle snuggle Vanessa

#fablehaven #Fablehaven headcanons #brandon mull #kendra sorenson #seth sorenson #warren burgess #vanessa santoro #stan sorenson #Ruth Sorensen #Kendra and Warren #Dale and Seth

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months

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Anchor

A/N: it starts off a little angsty and then gets a little silly. I hope the sex scene isn't too silly. I just think that sometimes sex with Eddie can be silly. He's a silly man.

18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Steve needs to come down from his panic attack. Eddie helps him out.

It was the fourth of July, 1986. . .exactly one year since Starcourt. Steve had been feeling twitchy all day and very on edge. He couldn't sleep last night either. Nightmares plagued him all night long. He heard the term from Hopper before. The anniversary effect. He knows the signs of PTSD. Hopper had sat them all down to explain what to look for and what to do when something like this happened. Steve should have called Eddie to cancel, but Steve had been looking forward to hanging out with one of his best friends all week. This would be the first time they would be hanging out alone, and for some reason, Steve was really looking forward to that. A knock on the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

"Is he knocking to the beat of a Metallica song?" Steve asked himself, and he smiled softly. "It's definitely Eddie."

Steve opened the door and grinned at the sight of Eddie. He wore tight black cut-off shorts, a stripped crop top with cut-off sleeves, and his hair was braided down his back. There were sparkly butterfly barrettes pinning his bangs back.

"Uh, hey, Eddie," Steve said, staring at him in confusion.

"El was hanging out at Max's trailer, I didn't want to say no to the kid," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning.

"You spoil her," Steve said grinning fondly at him.

"She deserves it," Eddie said.

"Yeah, she does," Steve said. "By the way, did you knock to the tune of a Metallica song?"

"If you know it through a door, then something tells me that you've been listening to it without me. Stevie. . .are you a secret fan?" Eddie asked, smirking.

"Shut up," Steve said blushing.

He didn't want to tell him that he was listening to the music when he wasn't around because, well, he didn't know why he did it. He recognized the top Eddie was wearing. It was his old black polo that he had given Eddie. It looked better on him than it ever did on Steve. He grinned when he realized that Eddie had ripped off the buttons, leaving a slit open in the middle of his chest. He was showing off his tattoos and not just his tattoos but his scars as well. Eddie had never been afraid to show them off.

"You going to let me in, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, right," he said stepping aside.

Just as Eddie was walking by him, a set of fireworks went off in the distance. Steve jumped and grabbed Eddie's bicep, gripping it tightly.

"Stevie?" Eddie asked softly.

Eddie placed a gentle hand over the top of Steve’s hand. The sight of Eddie's nails painted a red glittery color caused him to break from his reverie, and he laughed.

"The food is getting cold," Steve said as he closed the door behind Eddie.

"Don't worry. The fireworks fuck me up too," Eddie replied as he followed him into the kitchen. "Stevie! You ordered my favorite. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

"Please, if I were trying to seduce you, I would do better than pineapple pizza," Steve replied.

"You dare insult the food of gods?!" Eddie exclaimed and Steve laughed.

"You and Argyle should start a long-haired, weed smoking, pineapple pizza loving club," Steve laughed.

"Oh, we already have," Eddie said cheerfully. "By the way, that dude can smoke me under the table."

Steve tried to focus on what was happening inside of the house. They were watching a movie, their empty plates lying on the coffee table. Eddie was sitting so close to him that his shoulder was brushing against his. He tried to focus on Eddie, but there were fireworks going off outside, and suddenly, the guy on the TV started speaking Russian. Steve tried to breathe but found that he couldn't. His chest hurt, and his entire body was trembling. He let out a gasp as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Who do you work for?!"

"I told you! Scoops Ahoy!" Steve screamed. "I swear!"

Steve screamed when they hit him again. He wanted it to stop. He was begging it to stop.

"I don't believe you! How did you find us?!"

He was crazy. This man was crazy. After he hit him, the man ran a hand through his hair, and it was sickening how gentle he was because Steve knew it wasn't real. It was just another tactic. Steve hated the way he leaned in at first, and then he yanked himself away. He hated that he was crying.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," the man said softly. "Just tell us who you work for, and this will all stop. It's okay."

"Steve?!" Eddie's panicked voice broke him out of his memory.

Steve was gasping for breath, and he was crying. Why was he crying?

"I - can't -," Steve trembled.

"Stevie, can I touch you?" Eddie asked.

Eddie placed his hands on his shoulders. Steve flinched but relaxed when he realized it was Eddie who was touching him. He trusted Eddie. The fireworks were still going off, and Steve still couldn't breathe.

"I was telling the truth, Eddie," Steve sobbed. "They still wouldn't stop. T-they wouldn't stop."

"You need to breathe for me, Stevie," Eddie said. "Focus. Breathe in and out, okay? Can you focus on my voice?"

"I'm trying!" Steve snapped.

"I've been reading about this. Okay. Um, you need to focus on the moment. You're safe, okay? Nothing is going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Stevie, do you trust me?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Steve gasped.

"I need to anchor you. I need you to come back down, and this is the only way I can think to do it. Can I?" Eddie asked and Steve nodded.

Eddie cupped his face and pressed his lips to Steve’s softly. He could feel Steve relax, and his breathing became steady. Steve started moving his lips against Eddie's, softly at first, and then it became hungry. Eddie could taste the salt of his tears on his lips and the desperation on his tongue. Steve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I think I'm properly anchored now," Steve said, and another firework went off. "Ugh, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"You're telling me that you need help, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

The two young men stumbled upstairs, and once again, Eddie was pushing Steve against a wall. This time, it was the wall of his bedroom, and he was pressed up against him completely, grinding against Steve’s thigh as they kissed. Steve broke the kiss to take off his shirt and smirked at the hungry look in Eddie's eyes. Eddie grinned and went to take off his own shirt. . .and got stuck.

"Steve! Something went wrong! I got stuck! Steve! Stop laughing, asshole! How am I supposed to see your tits?!" Eddie panicked.

Steve continued to laugh as he helped Eddie out of his shirt. He took off the butterfly clips and set them on his dresser. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him deeply.

"That was very sexy," Steve giggled.

"Fuck off," Eddie said.

Eddie grabbed him by the back of his thighs and picked him up into his arms.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm stronger than I look, big boy," Eddie winked as he threw him onto the bed. "Now watch as the Magnificent Munson makes his lovely assistants' pants disappear!"

Eddie unbuckled Steve’s pants before yanking them down and completely off, tossing them behind him.

"Voila!"

"You're crazy!" Steve giggled.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea," Eddie laughed maniacally.

He placed his knees on either side of Steve’s hips and leaned down to kiss him. He moved his lips down to his neck, his chest, and then down to his stomach. Eddie grinned mischievously.

"Whatever is that you're going to do, don't do it," Steve warned.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s stomach and blew a raspberry near his bellybutton. Steve burst into laughter. Eddie sat up a little.

"I'm sorry, is this not how you blow someone?" Eddie asked innocently.

"No, Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked and blew another raspberry on his stomach.

"Eddie!"

"I'm sorry, I think you're going to have to come up with a safe word," Eddie said and blew yet another raspberry.

"Anchor!" Steve laughed.

"That's a good safeword, baby," Eddie said, pressing a kiss to his stomach.

He started kissing the rest of the way down until he came to Steve’s boxers. He grinned and took the elastic part in between his teeth. Using his mouth, Eddie lifted up Steve’s hips and dragged his boxers down until they were off completely. Still in his mouth, he shook his head and then spat them on the floor. Steve shook with laughter.

"Are you putting on a show, or you going to fuck me?" Steve grinned.

"Can't I do both?" Eddie asked.

It finally happened, Eddie was now deep inside of Steve.

"Are you going to move?" Steve asked.

"Gentleman, make sure you keep your arms and legs wrapped around your metalhead at all times!" Eddie said as if he was a train conductor. "Most importantly, enjoy the ride. All aboard the Munson express!"

Eddie slowly started to thrust into Steve and grunted as he moved. Steve moaned, gripping Eddie's back tightly. It wasn't long before Eddie started to make train noises as he thrusted inside of him. Steve rolled his eyes back as he laughed, his body shaking around Eddie's dick.

"Eddie!" Steve giggled.

"You feeling a little unsafe, Stevie? Do you need to use the safeword?" Eddie asked.

Somehow, Steve arrived on time. Eddie had followed soon after, spilling into the condom. Steve was still laughing when Eddie left and came back to clean him up.

"I don't know how I managed to laugh and cum at the same time. That is the silliest sex that I ever had," Steve grinned. "I don't want to have sex with anyone else ever again."

"That was my plan all along, baby," Eddie said, snuggling into Steve’s side.

Steve finally managed to get some sleep that night with a smile on his face and the man of his dreams in his arms even with the fireworks going off outside. All was well.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #eddie got really nervous it was his first time

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alyssajennwrites · 4 months

Text

Fireworks ~ Quackity x Y/n

Quackity x f!reader

TW: Fireworks (Loud noises), cursing, fluff

Note: In 1st person. I’m sorry if your tall but for the sake of the story the reader is short. Also, it doesn’t really mention it but Y/n is around Quackity’s age (just wanted to say that so you didn’t get confused).

Remember: D/n = Discord name, S/n = Ship name, N/n = Nickname

Summary: Y/n meets up with the dspm gang for the first time. But things take a slight turn in the wrong direction when Tommy not only sets off fireworks, but when he also sets off Y/n’s fear of loud noises.

A/N: I know it’s not the Fourth of July but I’ve had this idea for forever so I wanted to write it.

Word Count: 2,015

༺𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂༻

“Happy Fourth of July everyone!” Tommy said through the discord as he and the rest of the gang streamed.

I am currently sitting in my room, waiting for Tommy to finish up. He said he’d be done in five minutes, he said that 30 minutes ago. Not gonna lie, he’s kinda a dick sometimes. He’s my best friend, but he’s just irritating sometimes.

I honestly shouldn’t have let him stream from my setup! I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, but I shouldn’t have let him.

“Tommy,” I whined, walking over to him and placing my head on his shoulder. “You told me you would be done 25 minutes ago.”

I gave him a pouty face while trying to get his attention. He looked over in my direction but didn’t look at me. He looked over at the chat.

“Chat! Stop spamming that! Y/n and I are not a couple!” Tommy said, well more as he yelled.

I looked over to see the chat spamming their ship name for us, S/n. When chat first started spamming it, about a year ago, Tommy had freaked out. But now he just yells for the fun of it.

I laugh and put on a headset, pulling the extra microphone over to me.

“Hey chat!” I say waving at the camera even if I feel like a complete idiot doing so. “Tommy? Why isn’t a game pulled up on the computer? Weren’t you playing on the SMP?”

“Well, Mujer Bonita, we don’t have our set up with us at the moment,” I heard Big Q say through the call.

Big Q has a habit of giving me nicknames but saying them in Spanish. At first, I couldn’t understand a word he’d say, but now I know bits and pieces.

“Oh? And why would that be?” I ask.

“You’ll just have to wait and see missy,” He replies.

“Well chat,” Tommy interrupts. “I better end this before Big Q and N/n get into another fight. You know the drill and I really don’t feel like repeating it but check the follow button and I’ll see you later. Bye!”

He immediately ends the stream, but doesn’t disconnect from the discord call. He turns to me, letting out a long breath.

“What? Why are you acting like you need to do something this minute but you don’t want to?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “Did you forget that you have a college essay due tomorrow?”

I hear a lot of, “Ooo,” coming from the boys still in the call. I laugh, at Tommy’s face.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” He asks, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly.

“Do you really expect me to? You had 3 weeks to complete that essay and you put it off until the night before. I’m surprised you even finished it.”

“Tommy, the lady has a point,” Karl jumps in.

I smirk, triumphantly.

“Quit boosting her ego! You should see the look on her face,” Tommy says, somewhat annoyed.

The whole call bursts out laughing and I’m reminded of how much I want to meet them all in person. I’ve only met Tommy in person and he is currently staying over for the next couple of weeks. I really want to see them.

It’s weird, having people know you better than you know yourself. Especially if those people have never met you in real life. Like, take Karl for example, he knows every one of my favorite songs. Though that’s probably because I play and sing them nonstop when on a call with him.

“Alright, alright! Enough! N/n and I have to go. We’ll talk to you idiots later!” Tommy says.

Multiple byes and see ya’s can be heard from the call before Tommy logs off. That’s when he turns back to face me.

“Let’s go before we miss the party.” With that, he pulls me up and begins dragging me to the front door.

“Tommy where are we going?” I ask for about the third time during our little night drive.

“Y/n! I swear! If you fucking ask again I’m gonna turn around and we’re going home. And trust me when I say you’ll not be happy with that!” Tommy says as he takes a corner way too fucking fast.

I sigh, laying back further in my seat. I pull out my phone, opening Discord to find absolutely no messages from my main SMP friends. I frown, both confused and disappointed. That’s when I decide to get their attention.

See, the boys are very protective of me. Me being one of the only girls along with Niki has its perks. So, I text the main chat for our little group of friends.

D/n:

AAAHHHH SAVE MEEEEE

Big Q immediately answers this and I’m not surprised.

Quackity:

Woah! What’s wrong? Are you okay?

KarlJacobs:

You good?

Dream:

Fuck not again…

Tommy looks over when he hears me laugh at the boys’ reaction.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He leans over and looks at my screen. “Hey! Turn that off! No Discord during our trip!” He takes my phone again, placing it on the other side of him where I can’t reach it.

“Tommy… Give me my phone back!” I yell reaching for it.

“No! Get away!” He screams back at me.

“Don’t make me ask again Bitch Boy!”

Tommy playfully gasps, “Okay, now you’re not getting it back!”

I huff, sinking into my seat, defeated. My phone begins vibrating. Over, and over, and over, and over again.

“Damn girl, why do you have Discord notifications on?” Tommy asks, turning on my phone screen. “Holy shit! What did you say to them? I can’t read what they said because of your stupid Face ID, but I can tell that they’re worried.”

“Dude! Eyes on the fucking road!” I say as he drifts into the other lane.

~~~~~

The drive takes another 30 minutes before Tommy turns into a parking lot. I get out of the vehicle, looking around. There is nothing here. I see no party.

“Here you go. Please answer them before they start bugging me,” Tommy says, handing his phone to me and then leaning on the car.

I unlock my phone to see multiple messages from the boys.

Quackity:

N/n? You can’t scream and then not respond to us!

Mujer Bonita? Answer us, please!

Tubbo:

Y/n?

Y/n are you okay?

GeorgeNotFound:

Did she get kidnapped?

KarlJacobs:

No, she didn’t fucking get kidnapped, George!

It goes on like this for a while. So I keep scrolling to find this,

Wilbur:

Have you tried calling her?

Quackity:

No, let me try really quickly!

Wilbur:

You should have tried that first dipshit!

‘Quackity started a call’

’Fifteen missed calls from Quackity’

I sigh,

“Tommy! You took my phone and now the SMP is worried!” I say, playfully slapping his arm.

“Geez! Sorry, I didn’t want them to spill the surprise!” He said.

But before I could even question him, he dragged me towards the one bend in the road at the end of the parking lot. This bend was conveniently wide enough for me not to be able to see the other side.

“Tommy, I don’t like this,” I say, pulling my arm out of his grasp and backing up. “What is going on?”

“Just trust me N/n.” Right after he said that I could feel my phone vibrate.

I unlock my phone, finding that I had a message from Big Q.

Quackity:

Trust him Mujer!

I look up, confused, but either way, I hesitantly reach out my hand to Tommy. Tommy grabs hold of my hand and pulls me around the bend.

I stop short, gasping at the sight in front of me. There was a huge house like tent with lanterns everywhere. There was a walkway with torches lining the path. The tent was illuminated by what I guessed to candles or lanterns. The one thing that stood out to me the most was the crowd of people all talking outside of the tent.

I freed myself from Tommy’s hold and ran down the path to the crowd. As I make my way closer, I see one of the short males turn to face me. I gasp as I recognize the face, freezing when I recognize all the faces in the crowd.

“What…?” I say quietly. “How are you here?”

Tommy comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Happy Fourth of July Y/n.”

~~~~~

After many hugs and some tears. We all settle down. Me sitting next to Alex on the loveseat. Wilbur sitting on a stool with his guitar, strumming the tune to Your New Boyfriend. And everyone else sitting on the couches and chairs that surround the fire.

I look around at our group, there was Alex, Karl, Wilbur, Dream with a face mask on, George, Tubbo, Tommy, Philza, Niki, and Ranboo who also had a mask on.

They did it. They actually made a get together. And it is the best get together I could have asked for.

Out of no where, Tommy jumps up and yells,

“Time for fireworks bitches!!”

He runs outside, everyone else following. But as I stood up I realized, I hate loud noises. Tommy’s yelling is fine but, fireworks? I’ll have a mental breakdown.

“You okay mi amor?” Alex asked, walking back over to me.

“Mhm,” I say quietly, still looking at the wall.

“Hey…” Alex says quietly, using if hand to gently turn my head to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t laugh,” I saying, smiling sadly.

“I promise.” He sticks his pinky out for me to link with mine.

I laugh lightly, linking our pinkies in a promise.

“Okay, so…” I take a deep breath. “I’m scared of loud noises.”

Alex looks shocked at that. But he doesn’t laugh. He gives me a small smile and pulls me into a hug. But then suddenly he pulls away.

“How do you handle Tommy’s yelling and screaming them?” He looks worried, but I just chuckle.

“Oh, Tommy’s fine. I know that his yelling is all fun and games,” I reply smiling. “When I first met him though, I almost fell out of my chair because I jumped so hard when he yelled out his welcome.”

“Well, why don’t we go outside with the others?” He asks, stretching his hand out for me to grab.

I hold on, momentarily forgetting my fear. That is, until Tommy set off the first firework and I jump back. Alex immediately looks back to see me sitting on the ground, shaking. He quickly sits down next to me and covers my ears with his hands.

A look of worry, and guilt crossing his face. His hands were warm on my ears, and I couldn’t seem to make myself look away from his eyes. There was something about them that was mesmerizing.

We stayed like that until Tommy had run out of fireworks to light. Alex pulled his hands away from my ears as soon as he was certain that there were no more fireworks. He gently brushed his fingers across my skin, wiping away the tears that had broken free.

“I’m sorry, I should have stopped them sooner,” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” I whispered back.

“Hey! What do you two think you are doing on the ground?” Tommy called out from the distance.

Alex and I both laughed, helping each other off of the ground. We spent the rest of the night laughing and having fun. And Alex couldn’t seem to let go of my hand, but I’m not complaining.

“Wait, were you guys texting me from the same room? And were you in a call with Tommy from the same place?”

I never got an answer, I only got a bunch of laughter.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x reader #mcyt #dsmp x reader

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kykydebondy · 10 months

Text

collection of moments being in love viii-x

viii. hundreds of images laid out on the floor, colourful tape, a pen, and a scrapbook she’d bought for kylian to celebrate their first year together. they had spent hours looking at the photographs, carefully examining them, remembering every intimate moment that united their existence. an image of their first holiday in the mediterranean – she was staring into the lens, confused, an unusually big ice cream cone in her right hand, the small island’s old town in the background. kylian’s heart had skipped a bit when he turned to look at her and saw the smudge on her nose, he quickly grabbed the camera she carried around, wanting to immortalise this moment, keep it safe in his memory forever.

then a photograph depicting both of them, his twenty-fourth birthday, lounging on the couch after the blissful celebrations, her head resting on his lap, on top of a chunky blanket, looking up, half-smiling at his witty remark. his left hand around her waist, under her shirt, mindlessly tracing little shapes on her warm skin – a heart, a K, an i love you. her favorite one, the picture she had set as her phone background several months ago: kylian peacefully sleeping, his mouth half-open, his features uncommonly relaxed. she rarely saw him this way, tranquil and quiet – but she had woken up before him, the room already flooded with sunlight, the shadows painting peculiar motives on his bare back, his soft breath fully audible in the morning’s serenity.

ix. the first days of july had come swiftly – the past few months a blur of rainy evenings at home, cold days on the grandstands of the stadium, hoping to see ky return home unharmed, unending hours spent in front of her thick books, and tender, forgiving instants of love in between.

paris was routinely busy that tuesday morning, cars rushing through the narrow streets, the first, soft birdsong of the day wafting over the roofs, and herself standing in front of the small boulangerie down the cobblestoned street from her apartment, under the threat of a heavy cloud, buying freshly baked bread for breakfast, and a pain aux chocolat for later. with the gentle sound of the first raindrops falling, she threw her white linen shirt over her shoulders and walked the familiar way by the crooked medieval buildings.

she noticed ky had managed to find a white tee and some cream sweatpants in the pile of washed, clean clothes beside the dresser. he had put his morning playlist on, singing along to the words of a song she’d heard every morning that week – whose name however she didn’t know. the table was already set, big blue plates, butter, honey, brie, two bowls of greek yoghurt, camomile tea. quietly walking up to him, she set the bread on the counter to his left, wrapped her arms tightly around him. she felt his hair was still damp as she left a trail of kisses down the back of his neck, and smelled amber, rose, her fabric softener, felt his warmth on her cold skin, briefly closed her eyes.

kylian rinsed four apricots under the running water, sliced, and placed the bread on the table, sat down next to her to have their breakfast. he recounted the unusual dream he’d had last night, softly stroking her hand, running his fingers up to her shoulder, tightly squeezing and inviting her over to his lap. her tank top landed on the floor, his lips tightly on her mouth, then her neck, their bodies and minds so closely intertwined, it was almost forbidden to feel this deeply.

they showered again together, later, they had to because they’d sweated so much, he rubbed her shoulders, hugged her for a few minutes under the hot, running water. then cleaned the table, kylian left for his training session, she put the laundry together, closed the windows, packed her bag and caught the next metro to class.

a funny video after training, a picture of her lunch in front of a big stack of books, his mom’s home-cooked meal in return, in written form exchanged i love yous.

x. she sat next to his younger brother at the last game of the season, france against greece, seeking to qualify for the european championship. the atmosphere in the stade de france was magnetising, kylian‘s name being shouted louder than everyone else’s, words of encouragement and adoration for the newly named captain, eighty thousand blue, white and red flags being waved in support. it was always thrilling to watch him play, and she never grew tired of it – his extreme concentration, swift and effortless movements, his demeanour on the field, it felt pure, almost sacred. on such occasions it was especially hard to comprehend that he was hers to touch, to love and hold onto – the boy with the world at his feet kneeling only before her, permitting himself to feel vulnerable, defenseless in the act of loving.

they shared two kisses after the whistle had been blown, a small peck on her forehead, a lingering one on the lips. he seemed tired, but happy, freshly showered, ready to finally go home.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappé x reader #kylian mbappé #just kylian

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earlgreytea68 · 8 months

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Do u have any twin skeletons thoughts/analyses?

SO MUCH. BUCKLE UP.

I looooove this song and I think it is the most raw and brutal song about the disintegration of the Pete/Patrick relationship in the entire discography, I really do.

Patrick jumbles his use of lyrics up time-wise, he plucks them from all over their chronology, but I don't think he would write this song today, and I don't think he would write the lyrics up in this song today. Like, the lyrics are brutal, but the song they're in are worst, the way he arranges them, the way he sings them.

BUT THEN HE ENDS IT IN HOPE. THIS SONG.

I feel like there is this vague trajectory to the lyrics that Pete writes and the way that Patrick arranges and sings them. When they're both young kids, the lyrics are more straightforwardly melodramatic and self-pitying, the way kids are, and Patrick sings them that way. Which isn't to say they're not still complex, but yeah. As they move toward the hiatus, I feel like the lyrics actually get less bitter and more longing but Patrick starts arranging them and singing them more viciously, so that lyrics that could have been love songs become angry songs instead. Post-hiatus, Pete's lyrics take a distinctive pining turn that he's never entirely left, although they're not always about relationships (they never were, really, which is what I love about him) but about the passage of time and the way everything is yearning ambivalence for things you can't even define as you get older. Patrick in the beginning of the hiatus still arranged these lyrics in songs that felt defiant but by now the lyrics get put into love songs and lose some of the irony in the way Patrick sings them.

That's kind of a tangent.

Anyway, I don't actually think they dealt, lyrically or musically, with a lot of the emotions of the hiatus until AB/AP. I think they wrote SRAR almost carefully. Some of the songs in it feel almost like Patrick designed them to try to be at a remove, they feel kind of impersonal, aiming for the kind of heterosexual drama that FOB rarely hits in their songs because Pete rarely writes lyrics like that. But I think about a song like The Mighty Fall or Death Valley or Just One Yesterday or Young Volcanoes -- and there is A LOT to all of those songs, too, of course, and I love them -- but they're easy to read as just, you know, typical radio play stuff. (The notable -- REALLY notable -- SRAR exception is Miss Missing You, of course, and maybe that was as much as anyone could deal with at the time lol.)

But AB/AP, to me, is FULL of working through the hiatus baggage. There's "The Kids Aren't Alright" and there's "Fourth of July" and there's "Favorite Record" and THEN THERE'S THIS SONG. To me, this song is all about a relationship -- a partnership -- that's supposed to be perfect breaking completely to pieces right in front of you, and the way it devolves into recriminations and accusations.

The chorus, revolving around this titular room where everything went down. I read “shares our fate and deserves our pity” to imply that this room has been somehow ruined, too (sharing our fate) and that’s such a huge pity, like, this isn’t how it should have happened. There’s deep regret in this chorus: I don’t want to remember it, and what they don’t want to remember is the things the promised. The promises you make to the people you love and when it all goes to hell and you end up not keeping those promises, you don’t want to think about them.

EVERYTHING about the description of the relationship in this is some of Pete’s most vivid lyrics. This is one of those songs where every single line is absolutely crystalline. When Taylor Swift said once that she wanted “Blank Space” to be like a Fall Out Boy song where every line is a zinger, this is the song I think of, because the way this relationship is described, the way it unfurls through the song, every single line carries an entire story within it, it’s all so vivid. And the thing is, this could be read to be about sex—dull the pain, strip down to skeleton, saint swimming our sins—sure, it’s all sexy, but I don’t think any of it is actually about sex. Stripped down to our skeletons, that’s not how you have sex, that is way more revealing, way more vulnerability being shown than just taking off your clothes. It has to be read in the context of the image on their Greatest Hits compilation, those twin skeletons, dedicated to each other even in death, like, it’s just not about sex. Sure, sex can be read as sinful, but there’s a multitude of sins out there in the world for them to be swimming in. And the line that really smacks me over the head: “’til we’re twins again.” You…don’t have sex with your twin. I mean, unless we’re getting into some really weird narcissistic thing going on in this song. The twin thing is so…Patrick-coded hahaha. Because who is Patrick? The person he has twin-speak with. This whole thing is in the vein of Pete’s pining language to be honest: I MISS YOU SO MUCH. I JUST NEED A LITTLE DOSE OF YOU. I MISS HOW WE USED TO BE. I MISS WHEN WE WERE SO OURSELVES WITH EACH OTHER THAT WE WERE BASICALLY SKELETONS, THERE WAS NOTHING TO HIDE BEHIND.

But the way Patrick sings these words, the melody he gives them: It doesn’t sound pining. It sounds biting and cruel. If he sang this song in one of his piano arrangements, I bet these words would kill you with how much longing is in them. But that’s not how he sings them.

And then we get to that jet black crow, droning on and on and on, up above their heads, droning on and on and on. The way that droning line repeats, the way Patrick sings the on and on and on so that it sounds like a drone, it’s cleverly done, and the jet black crow always feels like this bad omen to me, this thing hanging over them, that they can’t escape. I MISS YOU SO MUCH, PLEASE STAY HERE WITH ME, but there’s that droning of foreboding hanging over their heads. You’ve got to keep making trouble until you find what you love, he’s not done yet, he wants to keep going, he needs a partner in crime AND YOU SHRUG. I never can decide which of them is speaking there, who looked to the other for their partner and didn’t find him there, and maybe it was both of them, because they were mutual destruction, maybe that’s the point.

Then we get to the second verse, one era dying and the next being born, showing up just to fade away, calling an end to the whole thing – and hating it the whole time (“I wanna throw my hands in the air and scream”). “I can just die laughing on your spiral of shame”: the way Patrick sings that. That is another line that I’m not sure who it’s meant to be referencing, and it could just be both of them. Honestly, the cruel things you do to the people you love when there’s a jet black crow droning on and on over your heads. But you get through the wreck and you pull yourself together enough to survive, even though you’re barely holding yourself together with a string.

But. BUT. THIS BRUTAL, BRUTAL SONG that Patrick takes Pete’s lyrics and puts together here. The way he has the pining of the first verse devolve into the vicious backlash of the second verse in the wake of the indifferent and painful shrug is so good and then the narrative retreats into: Hold on. Hold on, hold on, hold on. At the end of the song he repeats “hold on” EIGHTEEN TIMES. That’s how much he wants Pete to “hold on.” This song about the complete disintegration of this relationship ends with Patrick begging, over and over again: Hold on. Hold on. It’ll be okay. Hold on. That jet black crow drones on and on and on twelve times. Patrick asks us to hold on many more times. And he never sends droning as he does it. He packs multiple notes into the ons. The jet black crow is gone by the end of the song. I made promises. Just hold on.

#long post #fall out boy #fob #peterick

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floralcrematorium · 5 months

Text

Fall Out Boy lyrics that make me want to write fics because I'm unhinged and always thinking about middle-aged gay men ᵇʸ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵒʸ

Take This To Your Grave

• "And I can't forget your style or your cynicism" - Homesick at Space Camp

From Under The Cork Tree

• "Why don't you show me a little spine you've been saving for his mattress, love" Dance, Dance

• "Can I lie in your bed all day? I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake" - Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

• "I found the cure to growing older and you're the only place that feels like home" - I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

• "I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends and I am sorry my conscious called in sick again and I've got arrogance down to a science" - I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

• "So douse yourself in cheap perfume, it's so fitting, so fitting of the way you are" - I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

• "I used to obsess over living, now I only obsess over you. Tell me you'd like boys like me better, in the dark lying on top of you" - Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

• "I'm casually obsessed and I've forgiven death. I am indifferent yet (I am a total wreck)" - The Music Or The Misery

• "I'm every cliché, but I simply do it best" - The Music Or The Misery

Infinity On High

• "I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light" - Hum Hallelujah

• "We're so miserable and stunning... Love songs for the genuinely cunning" - The Carpal Tunnel Of Love

• "Best friends, ex-friends to the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around" - Bang The Doldrums

• "Do you remember the way I held your hand? Under the lamp post and ran" - I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers

Folie à Deux

• "Say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same" - I Don't Care

• "Does your husband know the way that the sunlight gleams from your wedding band?" - Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet

• "I will never end up like him, behind my back I already am" - What A Catch Donnie

• "My head's in heaven, my soles are in hell. So let's meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well" - w.a.m.s.

Save Rock And Roll

• "I don't know where you're going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?" - Alone Together

• "You and me are the difference between real love and the love on T.V." - Where Did The Party Go?

• "Anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name, it will be held against you" - Just One Yesterday

• "I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way" - Just One Yesterday

• "But even though my eyes closed, I still see you. I just hope that when you see me, I'm not see-through" - The Mighty Fall

• "I wanna see your animal side, let it all out. Oh there you go, undress to impress. You can wear the crown, but you're no princess" - Death Valley

• "Oh, c'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered" - Young Volcanoes

American Beauty/American Psycho

• "She's in a long black coat tonight, waiting for me in the downpour outside. She's singing, baby come home, in a melody of tears, while the rhythm of the rain keeps time" - Jet Pack Blues

• "You are my favorite 'what if,' you are my best 'I'll never know'" - Fourth of July

• "I wish I'd known how much you loved me, I wish I cared enough to know" - Fourth of July

• "The torture of small talk with someone you used to love" - Fourth Of July

MANIA

• "You are the sun and I am just the planets spinning around you" - The Last Of The Real Ones

• "I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me" - The Last Of The Real Ones

• "I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you or be just your friend" - HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T

• "There is nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you" - Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)

• "If you were church, I'd get on my knees" - Church

So Much (For) Stardust

• "You were the sunshine of my lifetime, what would you trade the pain for?" - Love From The Other Side

• "Part-time soulmate, full-time problem" - Hold Me Like A Grudge

• "I will never ask you for anything, except to dream sweet of me" - Heaven, Iowa

• "I like playing dumb, letting you figure me out" - I Am My Own Muse

• "I've got all this love I've got to keep to myself. All this effort to make it look effortless" - Flu Game

• "Self-sabotage at best, under your spell" - Baby Annihilation

• "I think I've been going through it and I've been putting your name to it" - So Much (For) Stardust

• "In another life, you were my babe. In another life, you were the sunshine of my life" - So Much (For) Stardust

• "I used to be a real go-getter, I used to think it'd all get better" - So Much (For) Stardust

#i will not apologize for being chaotic #bein a little unhinged about fruk tonight #you don't even know #yes these are all about fruk #maybe one day i'll work my way through this list and just write an amalgamate of FrUK oneshots because i'm... Normal #okay the headfirst slide lyric is about Framano AND FrUK so...#also as you can see i am SO normal about Fall Out Boy #fanfiction #floralcrematorium writes #fall out boy #floralcrematorium is so normal and cool #fruk

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haileymunson · 2 years

Text

random steve headcanons

steve harrington x reader

a/n: NSFW under da cut baddies *mwah* hope you enjoy!

sfw:

when he worked at scoops ahoy he’d buy you ice cream if you came while he worked and would make you your favorite ice cream after his shift when you picked him up

when he worked at the video store, despite him constantly getting distracted he’ll let you wander around the store and find movies the top of you can watch

if you love going to parties obviously he’s taking you to all of them. if you don’t, he has no problem leaving them early or not going to them at all, as long as you at least pop in to the bigger ones

his friends from season 1 were huge jerks, and after the events of season 1 and him graduating, he doesn’t talk to them anymore

he would consider Nancy, Eddie, and Robin his friends. is a little uncomfortable and uneasy around Johnathan but will be respectful

he will 100% give you his sweaters and jackets and hoodies. they fit you like a dress and he swoons seeing you wear his clothes

if the both of you met before he graduated, you didn’t really know him but he kind of knew you around. you didn’t really appreciate his attitude and the shitty people he hug around

if you met after he graduated he’s definitely a lot nicer and more courteous. he isn’t a huge jerk and even though he has a track record of many ladies he’s been with, seeing and getting to know you somehow made him want you to be his forever and last girl he was with

late night drives listening to popular 70s-80s songs, drive ins where he’s probably coaxing you to make out with him, as bad as you actually want to see the movie, cute mall dates in his uniform (the scoops ahoy uniform >>>>>>)

as he is a fan of the ladies, this man can be very charismatic and charming

romantic candlelit dinners, cute walks near the lake and maybe listening to soft music while at lovers lake ;)

reading books or watching the movies you rented while cuddling and holding hands

he takes you to fairs and wins you a buttload of stuffed animals, rides all of the big rides with you, gets you whatever you want to eat but not too much or you’ll throw up, and takes you on the ferris wheel as the both of you watch the fireworks if y’all are there on the fourth of july

imagine him being nervous to meet your parents for the first time, so the first time he sneaks in your house you can hear him throwing pebbles on you window and he’s outside your window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand

going to the park together and after a good picnic, he brings you home while giving you a piggyback ride and joyfully singing the lyrics to your favorite songs together

if you go to college or you’re both still in high school, he’ll leave you cute and motivational messages in your lunch, your textbooks, or your notes (literally anywhere he’ll know you’ll see it)

cute slow mornings together with his pretty brown hair sprawled all over either of your pillows, slowly starting the morning with slow pecks and gentle cuddling and brushing your teeth and getting ready together

as i said he can be charismatic and charming, but his dad jokes are out of the world corny yet he manages to make you laugh anyways

is the type to hold your hold and touch a part of your body during a conversation, and also can be very attentive and focused on what you’re saying if you’re talking about something important or rambling

loves when you play with his hair and in general your hands in his hair makes him melt

if you like high school steve, going to his basketball games and cheering him on while he looks for you in the crowd, blowing you a kiss and giving you a wink when he finds you

i feel like homie’s love languages are gift giving, touch, and quality time

loves when you hold his face with your hands and kiss him passionately and vice versa

it’s rare when he feels insecure or not confident, but when the time comes you’re always there to reassure him and tell him how much you love him. as for when you feel insecure, he’s the exact same way except things usually end sexually lol

gets really angry and hostile when someone tries to insult you or talk bad about you. will fight anyone who tries to defy or look down on you

he’s cute when he wants to be, and when he is he notices little quirks and things about you

want to memorize every curve, every mole, every freckle, every stretch mark and everything about and on you

even though you might know share the same interests, he’ll make it his mission to be as interested and try his best to understand whatever it is that brings you joy since you do the same with him

he’ll try to whisper jokes to you while in lectures or class

he’ll walk you to your classes and pick you up / drop you home

if you’re in high school or college, the both of you will do homework together and study together. if you can’t be together neither of you have a problem with staying on the phone for hours together studying

speaking of studying together……;)

nsfw:

he’s a dom. argue with your muva.

is a soft!dom

king of aftercare BYE

holds hands with you in missionary or while making out

can be rough, soft, passionate, or lazy

CONSENT KING, literally will not do anything unless he’s asked you and he knows it’s okay for him to do

^ despite him being a head pusher once he’s comfortable with you and knows your limits ofc

pull his hair pls and thank yew

is a humongous tease buy lordt don’t tease him because he’ll make you regret it with the most insane back shots

inforces a no pants rule when you move in together

loves to give you praise

“you look so fucking good baby,” “fuck just like that princess,” “such a good girl for me,” “you like that?,” “i want to make you feel so good baby,” “just like that babygirl don’t you dare fucking stop,” “come ‘ere,” “you’re so fucking pretty baby,” “don’t hide from me princess i wanna see your face when you come,” “you can take me baby,” “I love the way you look when i’m inside you”

and loves to hear you praise him

“am i doing good baby?,” “right there? you want me to fuck you right there?,” “you want it like that, huh?,” “do i make you feel good baby?,” “how do you want it love, tell me,” “you want me to keep fucking you?”

lowkey i’m not sure if he’d be into threesomes or sharing you. he’s very overprotective and doesn’t like sharing

late night car sex in his car because why not lol

definitely took you to lovers lake to make love to you lol

likes to experiment

is definitely into quickies but loves to take his time with you

would die if you asked him to let him fuck your throat

you would die if he asked you to sit on his face

likes when you mark him up with your nails and with hickies

loves to give you hickies all over your thighs, breasts, and neck

gives the best head HOLY-

his soft lips and insatiable tongue are a deadly combo

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington scenarios #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington moodboard #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve stranger things #steve harrington x sinclair!reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington hc #steve harrington headcanon

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dadr0ckmusic · 2 years

Text

stranger things headcanons because i said so (fruity four + billy)

basically them in my dr

steve harrington

does restaurant challenges unironically. like he has to eat a big wet daddy burger in an hour just for a plaque on the wall and a pic with the owner smh

calls his car babygirl

modern au where he texts the girl he likes at 1:11, 2:22, etc just to get her hopes up

loves madonna. you can't tell me otherwise

he does yoga. and if you catch him he'll threaten your life

calls his house 'the love shack'

if you were just becoming friends with him he would listen to your music or do your hobbies with you just to make you happy

would totally rock out to stacy's mom

he gives off lactose intolerant vibes. i do not make the rules.

would definitely have playlists called "alt songs that make you drink monster" or "sad vibes" or "coronavirus got me like"

would've fucking KILLED on grindr

would love twilight. he's on team jacob

laughs at minion memes

robin buckley

the literal queen of your mom jokes

she would totally say "who up wonking they willy rn"

would work at spencer's

she had a ton of hamsters that died the most traumatic deaths when she was a kid and they're all buried in her backyard

loooves poop and fart jokes

she still sleeps with the same stuffed bear she had when she was little (and we are NOT judging)

says "oh my goodness gracious" at the funniest possible times

would literally FUCK at rainbow loom

her childhood room was purple and steve picks on her for it

cannot use chopsticks to save her life

one time steve made her mad so she literally WENT OFF THE GRID and he didn't see her for a whole week and he was freaking the fuck out

was a bug girl. worms? fuck yeah. roly polys? best buds. what the fuck is that thing? it has a terrarium now.

literally is the most caring person on the planet. she's always worrying about you and what you're feeling and what you're doing

only eats the marshmallows out of lucky charms

is scared of bees

billy hargrove

he bakes. he bakes cookies, cupcakes, you name it. if you ever catch him he's FORCING you to taste whatever he's making

an AVID reader. he's got books all over his room, stolen library books in the glove box of his car, and he's reading the hawkins post every morning no matter what

his mom taught him how to sew. lets say after a mishap with the whole 'different dimension' thing, you're bummed cause you got a hole in your favorite shirt. billy would be like "i can fix it for you" and you're like "what??" but he just gets mad and goes "just give me the fucking shirt" and then the next day he's bringing it to you good as new

hates cooked carrots

can fall asleep anywhere. couch, car, at a party, you name it. he will find a spot to fall asleep

he was actually very interested in supernatural stuff when he was younger. and then when max started telling him about everything billy was like "wait. i read this about... blah blah blah" and max is just so surprised

he can totally make a mean cocktail. you want a pina colada? whipped up in seconds. craving a margarita? he's got the salt ready. feeling like an old fashioned? liquor's already in front of him.

he never wears sunscreen. not a single spf anywhere on his body.

calls girls broads and you can NOT tell me otherwise

totally thinks metallica was at its best in their thrash era. sorry bud i'd hate to break it to you

hates the fourth of july cause of y'know.

i feel like he would totally get into dog rescue after he leaves hawkins.

would totally kick ass at mario kart. like he's THE BEST and he always chooses bowser

would totally bash you for your music taste if it was different than his. "what the hell is a beatle?" "mick jagger is not hot." "queen? aren't they gay?" "zeppelin? who taught you that?"

a literal GOD at making mac n' cheese

nancy wheeler

so so so stubborn it's actually annoying.

call her 'einstein' and you're six feet under the floorboards

the tom cruise poster in her room has stared her in the face ever since robin commented on it

nancy's actually amazing at rollerskating. like even mike was surprised because when did she get good at that?

she has nightmares about what happened to barb multiple times a week :(

please know that if you're really close to her she would kill someone for you. no hesitation.

she's super literal? like when someone asks a hypothetical question she's like "when would this happen? why w-" and then immediately get cut off

has a tonnn of notebooks/journals just filled with random stuff like doodles, school notes, reminders, and little ramblings

has plants named after each of her friends and when something's wrong with one of the plants, there's always something wrong with the friend.

is a feminist (slay)

she saves every birthday card given to her and keeps them in a box in her closet

she's a morning person. up and at 'em before 9 every morning and it pisses the gang off when they all sleep in the wheeler's basement. "nancyyyyy..... close the curtains i beg of you..." "it's such a beautiful day, don't you think?"

she's actually amazing at shoplifting.

eddie munson

is allergic to peanuts

when i tell you this man is spontaneous... think 100x more. he'll pull up to your house at 11pm and declare that he planned a road trip while sitting in detention earlier that day and that you're going with him. "eddie what are you doing here? it's so late." "we're going to ohio. we're gonna stop in columbus for like five minutes and drive back." "what the hell."

has cried to sweet child o' mine and will keep that fact to his grave

owns multiple pairs of boxers with superhero logos on them.

definitely has 10 in 1 shampoo that he uses for everything.

ate dirt as a child

if you ever smoke pot with him, just expect him to say the weirdest shit while he's doing whatever. "do you think steve is thinking about me right now?" "yoooooo...... uh.... yo..... um...... i forgot....." "i want to get a cat." "shut up eddie."

he's just,,,, so oblivious,,,,, to sarcasm, flirting, jokes, etc

has ADHD, no doubt about it.

just like billy, he'll bash you on your music taste no matter what. even if you like the same music as him. "that's your favorite tool song? god, you could do way better than that." "c'mon, you know that dio sang better than ozzy." "munson, you're lying straight through your teeth and you know it."

will make you friendship bracelets and you KNOW you're wearing them till you die.

modern au where you're facetiming him and he takes SO MANY facetime pics of you and sometimes makes them his lockscreen. he thinks he's THE SHIT for that.

he giggles. a total giggler.

he flicks dustin in the head all the time.

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pasukiyo · 2 years

Text

𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟐.

— steve harrington x f!reader

warnings; none. just lots and lots of tooth-rotting fluff teehee

a/n; GUYS i kid you not when i say i’ve been working on this one since the fourth of july CRIES africa is one of my favorite songs of all time and i’ve never thought about it this way until now i swear, every time i listen to it now i think of being in love with steve harrington and goofing off with him while screaming the lyrics :’)

word count; 2.5k

; listen to africa by toto!<3

the sky had since bruised into a black and purple, and the sun had given her one last taunting wink before it sunk behind the buildings across the street. she huffed as she peered over to the clock hung above the entrance— ten more minutes until closing. this was music to her ears— now all she had to do was wait out these last ten minutes until she could close the shop.

she thought she’d even get started on cleaning the store— until a group of teenagers came barging in, dampening her already sour mood once again. her shoulders dropped and she practically slammed her elbows back onto the counter, head in her chin as she glared daggers into the teenage boys’ backs, hoping they’d feel her gaze and take it as a sign to leave.

“god, customers at this time of night?”

she glanced over to steve as he joined her pity party, his head tilting so that his chocolate brown eyes could melt like syrup into her own. she tore her own eyes away from his, and she cursed beneath her breath at the heat rising to her cheeks. steve chuckled at this, his fingertips pressing into her cheekbone, lingering for a moment before swiping the loose strands of hair that had veiled her away from him behind her ear. “aww, is somebody in a bad mood?” steve mocked, jutting his bottom lip, a cheeky grin plastered across his face when she narrowed her eyes in his direction.

she scrunched her nose and leaned away from his touch, “shut up, steve,” she grumbled, eyeing the clock once more. “god, this blows. i just wanna go home,” she moaned again, her shoulders and chest heaving in unison for effect. steve pressed his lips together to suppress a smile, his weight on one forearm when he turned back towards her. “but aren’t you glad you get to spend time with me? your favorite person?”

she side-eyed his cheeky grin, pursing her own lips together and rolling her eyes. “who says you’re my favorite person, harrington?” she replied, and he mocked pain, his palm over his heart, his eyebrows furrowing. “ouch.” her eyes fell over the kids again as they bickered back and forth between a horror movie, steve’s hip prodding against her own. “i’m totally gonna break up with you after that,” he continued. “not your favorite person?” he tutted, tousling the brown locks atop his head. “i can’t believe you.”

“quit whining,” she mumbled as the kids made their way towards the counter. “someone’s grumpy,” steve’s voice was barely audible, but she caught it— hence the dirty look she shot his way.

steve’s gaze was like fire, his eyes boring into the back of her head while she dealt with their late night customers, and she could feel it. she made no effort to veil her annoyance away as she sent the kids on their way, steve’s hip a ghost against her own. she followed them out, leaving steve to sulk behind the counter as she locked the front door behind them, turning the open sign closed.

she gathered air into her chest as she turned, letting herself lean back against the door, eyelids fluttering closed. her body ached, a dagger prodding against the inside of her head. “so, are we gonna go and close up or are we going to stand around like we’re in a drama all night?”

she peeled a single eyelid open and cocked her head towards where steve still stood, elbows on the front counter with an eyebrow raised to his hairline. “you’re annoying,” she grumbled, pushing off of her palms, her fingers tousling the hair atop of her head as she made her way towards the back. steve was practically on her heels, his breath creeping along the bridge of her neck. she slapped her skin there, her eyelids narrowing as she glared at him over her shoulder, “give me some space, yeah?” she snatched the mop from the supply closet and turned back to where steve stood in the middle of the room, his irises sparkling when she came near.

“here,” she pushed the wooden handle of the mop into his chest, “make yourself useful.”

his bottom lip jutted out into a pout as she flashed the most sarcastic of grins, pushing past him to work on the lobby. “you’re so mean to me,” steve sulked, watching as she grabbed the box of returned tapes and made her way to the horror section. she scowled at him over her shoulder, halloween and nightmare on elm street between her thumb and forefinger, moving them to the top shelf where the popular titles rested. “you’re such a baby,” she rolled her eyes, rearranging the vhs tapes on one shelf before moving to the next. she watched from the corner of her eye as steve absentmindedly ran the mop back and forth against the floor, his irises anywhere but. she shook her head, facing back towards the task at hand, wanting nothing more than to go home, curl up in bed, and rest.

silence ensued— well, at least for a moment, until steve decided that enough was enough.

“it’s too quiet,” he murmured, and she turned, watching as he made his way behind the counter, rummaging around the shelves for who knows what. she didn’t say anything, her eyes once again rolling in their sockets as she moved to the next shelf, tugging the box of returned tapes along with her. “hm. i don’t really take you as a metal person.”

she cocked an eyebrow up to her hairline as she gazed over her shoulder, irises falling upon her boyfriend as he rummages through a basket of records, the record player at his side. “metallica. the romantics. elvis. abba?” he paused, an abba record in his hand as he gazed over to where she squatted, scrunching his nose. “nah.”

“what are you doing, steve harrington?” she questioned as his face lit up at a specific record, practically tearing off the cover before placing it on the player. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he cranked up the volume, drumming his fingers against the counter to the beat. she stopped to listen for a moment, “toto, africa? god, steve, that is so 1982.”

“hey, this is a timeless song,” he argued, eyebrows furrowed. “i guess maybe you wouldn’t know because your taste in music sucks.”

“i thought you liked fleetwood mac?”

“eh.”

his hips began to rock to the beat, and he pushed the mop around the counter, his eyelids closed as he focused on the music. “i hear the drums echoing tonight,” he began to sing along, the handle of the mop his microphone. she shook her head, her lips twitching and threatening to break into a smile. she fought the urge, but the way steve inched closer and closer, singing the lyrics aloud into the handle of the mop did not go unnoticed.

“i stopped an old man along the way,” steve sang, pressing his hip into hers as she slid another tape onto the shelf, the box nearly toppling to the ground. “steve!” she practically shrieked, tightening her grip. he only smiled, drawing in closer, his free hand resting on her hip. “he turned to me as if to say, ‘hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you.’”

her teeth clamped down onto her bottom lip to grab ahold of the giggle that threatened to emit when he flipped his hair, his singing— or rather, screaming— permeating the empty family video. “it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you,” he shouted into his makeshift microphone, leaning down until his forehead pressed itself against hers. “there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. i bless the rains down in africa. we’re gonna take some time to do the things we never had.”

she pushed her palm flat against his chest, pivoting around on her heel to veil her smile away from him, not ready to give in to him just yet. she pulled a copy of the breakfast club out of the box and slid it into its rightful place, st. elmo’s fire soon joined it at its side. “the wild dogs cry out in the night as they grow restless, longing for some solitary company,” steve continued, practically a looming shadow behind her she couldn’t escape from. she turned her head when he rested his against her shoulder, continuing on to the next line. “steve!” she chuckled, “get back to work!”

“i seek to cure what’s deep inside,” he continued, completely ignoring her protests as she moved to the next shelf.

alas, steve was already one step ahead of her.

“frightened of this thing that i’ve become,” he sang, snatching the box of tapes out from her grasp, letting it fall to the ground with a recoiling thump. “steve harrington, if anything happens to those tapes, we’ll both—“

“just shut up and dance with me.”

he tugged her back into his chest, his mop long forgotten on the ground behind him as he took both her hands in his, his hips swaying to the rhythm. “it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do,” he sang, one of his hands retreating from hers all the way down to her hips, guiding them side to side.

she couldn’t help it, her lips cracked into a smile, her chest heaving in a giggle as they danced, steve’s hair flopping up and down in unison with the banging of his head. “i bless the rains down in africa,” she found herself murmuring the lyrics beneath her breath along with steve, his eyes— the ones that reminded her of the sweetest chocolate— surged into hers, her heartbeat ringing in her ears. “we’re gonna take some time to do the things we never had.”

with both hands on either side of her waist, he tugged her back into his chest— where she belonged. the music softened, but suddenly, it didn’t seem to be the most important thing in the world right now, and neither was the mop or the box of vhs tapes. enveloped in the arms of the boy she loved, his eyes swimming through the pools of her own, his heart thumping against his chest just for her, and vice versa— this was everything she ever needed.

“hey there,” he finally broke the small silence, their hips swaying to the softening rhythm of the song, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. she emitted a small, breathy giggle, “hey.”

“so, am i boyfriend of the year or what?” he chuckled, his irises briefly flickering down to her lips when her tongue swiped between them. “you know, not everyone’s girlfriends get serenaded by their insanely hot boyfriends while slow dancing in the family video store. you should feel lucky.” she laughed, her lashes fluttering when her irises cowered to the floor beneath their feet, and steve’s head followed, eager to maintain the eye contact. “well, that’s presumptuous of you,” she tittered, gazing back up and into his deep, brown irises, her teeth sunken into the flesh of her bottom lip. “but i guess i can admit that you’re pretty.”

“pretty? just pretty? come on, did you even consider the hair?”

“you’re an idiot, steve harrington.”

‘hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you,’ the song echoed in the background as steve wet his lips, irises glimmering with nothing short of adoration— and it was all for her.

“maybe i am. but you’re beautiful, and that’s just a fact, so, i guess i’m not a total idiot.”

she laughed, and maybe it was because she was wrapped up in the moment, or maybe it was because she knew the beat would drop at exactly the right time, but she kissed him, their lips surging into one another, forming into the perfect mold.

‘it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.’

she pulled him into her even closer, his hands venturing from her hips to the small of her back to feel her even closer than she was before— if it was even possible. their tongues slow danced with one another as the song continued, his skin warm against her own.

‘i bless the rains down in africa.’

eventually, they pulled away for air, their foreheads, both slick with sweat, resting against one another as they panted, chasing down their breath.

“i bless the rains down in africa,” steve sang underneath his breath, and she giggled, nuzzling her head up against his as he attempted the high note. “i bless the rains down in africa,” she sang along with him this time, his hands soothing over her elbows, all the way back down to her hands. they jumped up and down to the beat as they sang the line again, the mop and the box of tapes still long forgotten. “i bless the rains down in africa,” they braved the high note together, out of key voices trembling in laughter at the other’s attempt. “we’re gonna take some time to do the things we never had.”

they chuckled as the music once again softened, and steve rested his palms on either of her cheeks, giving her lips a swift peck as he squished her face together. “steve,” she giggled when he pulled away. he simply smiled back, “i love you.”

and she did the same. “i love you t—“

“what the hell are you two doing in here?”

their muscles went stiff at the interruption, and they snapped their heads to the entrance where their manager stood, eyebrows furrowed and hands on his hips. they pushed one another away and stood up straighter than they were before, her hands locking in front of her whilst steve crossed his arms over his chest, clearing his throat. neither of them dared say anything, only shared a swift glimpse over at one another.

“nothing to say, huh?” their manager scoffed, shaking his head as he made his way towards his office, most likely to grab something he had forgotten earlier. they turned around, watching as he fumbled around his desk until he finally came up with what he had came for— a flask filled with who knows what. he took a swig of whatever it was he had in there as he glared at them over the rim of the flask. “well, i don’t pay ya to stand around and make goo-goo eyes at each other. get back to work!”

they watched as he pushed open the door, “and don’t forget to lock the goddamn place up either.”

they stood in silence as they watched him start up his car through the window, and waited until he had pulled out of the parking lot and sped off until they erupted into laughter, falling into one another. steve pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of her head before she walked off, bending down to grab the mop up off of the floor. she pivoted around on her heel to him and pressed it into his chest, although steve’s eyes only remained on her, and she wondered if he even realized he was now holding the mop.

“now get back to work,” she snickered, “and don’t use this as a microphone this time.”

#steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff

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virgosvoid · 10 months

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Fireworks

summary: it’s the 4th of July, and the Spiders are having a party at HQ, though Miguel would rather be cooped up with his Spiderman duties. You try to convince him to join...

pairing: Miguel x YN!reader

notes: Was 4th of July yesterday? Yes. Am I deciding to post the fic the day after? Yes. Do I care? Not really.

Also this fic contains only fluff

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

It was the Fourth of July. The entire day was filled with celebration. HQ was splattered in shades of red, white and blue. The Society had planned this celebration for quite some now. You offered to help. You sent out proper invitations and were in charge of the catering. You weren’t the only one with a job for the party. Jessica and Gwen were in charge of the decorations. Peter B was given the task of getting an inflatable pool. No one planned on bringing one to the party but Peter begged to bring one, so the task was given to him. He offered to help out with other things, but with his track record of forgetfulness and laziness, it was better for him to stick with one task.

Jessica asked Hobie to pitch in, though he wanted nothing to do with the party. “You are all just falling victims to capitalism,” is what he had responded with. Though his mind changed quite quickly when Miles announced that he would be in charge of the music. “Look bruv, I respect ya and everything, but ain’t no way in bloody hell am I gon’ let ya be in charge of the music.”

Miles had responded with a frown. “Are you saying I have bad taste?”

Hobie responded, “You got decent music taste, but you listen to the same bloody songs. With all do respect bruv, but if I have to hear Sunflower one more time, I think I’ma go mad.” You had laughed at Hobie’s comment. Poor Miles really did listen to the same music all the time. Is Sunflower the only thing he listens to? But after a minute of quick banter, the boys decided to work together and both be in charge of the music.

The party was in less than an hour, and everything was perfect. Jessica and Gwen went above and beyond with the decorations and you definitely gave it your all when it came to the catering. Ten tables filled with many foods. Most were finger foods such as platters of cheese, salami, pigs in a blanket, wings, chips and about six different dippings. One would think that ten tables is excessive for catering, but you were dealing with dozens of spider-people. You also had arranged five separate beverage dispensers all filled with different beverages. Alcoholic and nonalcoholic.

Though, you made sure to keep the alcoholic beverages far from the kids and told one of the other Peter Parkers to be in charge of guarding the alcoholic drinks, just in case Gwen, Hobie or Miles try to snag some alcohol at the party when you weren’t looking.

Though your favorite thing was the dessert. The cookies and donut holes. And the chocolate fountain. When the catering guys came into HQ to set it up, Miles' eyes practically lit up. It was no ordinary fountain, it was a large fountain. Large as in the size of a real fountain. You truly gave it your all. And you were satisfied with everything. Though you felt satisfaction, a wave of disappointment overtook you. Your head turned to look at the tower that led to your Miguel O’ Hara’s office.

A day after the planning started, you had been rambling to him about the party and how ecstatic you were about being a part of the planning. He smiled at the way you moved your hands while explaining all your ideas and objectives. He enjoyed seeing you get all passionate. “I’m very excited for you,” he said very calmly and sweetly. “I think it will turn out great.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “You think?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You and all the Spiders will have a great time for sure, I know it.” Those choice of words had caused you to tilt your head in confusion. “What do you mean by that? Are you not going to go?” Miguel leaned his head back as he sighed, “Baby you know I don’t like parties or any sort of celebration.”

You crossed your arms. “I know but this is technically a work event and since you are a work-obsessed freak, I was confident you would go.”

Miguel squinted his eyes while also crossing his arms in return. “First of all, I’m not a work-obsessed freak. You make it seem like all I do with my life is work.”

You purse your lips and tilted your head as you gave him a are-you-sure-about-that look. Immediately understanding what you were trying to say, his face sank into a frown. “Fuck off,” Miguel said while rolling his eyes. You pout your lips as you look at him again. “Stop that,” he said in an annoyed tone. You continued with the face, “Why?”

He rolled his eyes again. “Those puppy dog eyes are not gonna work on me. I said no. Someone has to be Spiderman babe. Even on the holidays or other special occasions”. You rolled your eyes. You walked over to Miguel, who was sitting on the side of the bed that you both slept on. You held his gorgeous face in your hands. “Can you not be Spiderman for one day and just be Miguel. Is that too much to ask?” you asked him softly.

Though Miguel told you no, you kept subtly bringing the topic as the days went on, hoping that he would have a change of heart. Unfortunately, for every time you brought it up, he gave the same repetitive answer. No.

An hour had passed and some of the Spiders had started to enter. The party was being held at the main hall and it was quickly getting packed, which was expected though you weren’t expecting it to be packed so quickly. It made you glad that a lot of the Spiders took the time toeven be here for the party. Everyone wore bathing suits including yourself. You wore a red bikini top with some denim shorts. Though it felt a bit awkward that everyone came in swim attire when...

“Where’s Peter B!” Jessica rushed to you in anger. You press your lips down firmly as you let her rant. “The party started an hour ago! Everyone is here in swimsuits and trunks and we don’t even have the inflatable pool!” You shrugged. “He didn’t answer any of the texts from the group chat.” Jessica let out a frustrated groan. “He was supposed to show up hours ago,” Jessica pointed at her watch. “I swear I am giving this idiot ten more minutes and if he doesn’t show up, I will web my way to find him and it won’t be pretty for him.”

Almost as if Jessica had blurted out some sort of spell, Peter B came swinging into the main hall and landed in front of you and Jessica. He had some blue swimming trunks while having a duck floatie wrapped around his waist. He was holding on to a box that appeared to be the inflatable pool. “Who’s ready for some fun!” he said with a cheerful smile. Jessica turned to him, her eyes squinting in irritation.

“You are late!” she shouted abruptly. “Am I late or are y’all just early?” he said to Jessica while giving a quirky finger gun and giving a cheerful wink. Jessica certainly was not enjoying this. “It’s 7:46, the party started at 6:30. Says it on the invitation.” Peter B shrugged, “It said it started at 6:30, didn’t say anything about being there exactly at 6:30.”

Now Jessica was fuming. “Everyone that was in charge of bringing something had to be here two hours earlier. It was said in the fucking group chat!”

Peter B raised a brow. “Group chat? I don’t remember receiving anything from a group chat. Hold on let me-” his hand reached every pocket and crevice of his shorts and did not feel his phone anywhere. His eyes widened. “Seems that I lost my phone,” he chuckled weakly.

You looked over at Jessica who was rubbing her temples while whispering things you couldn’t quite make out. “This is why we never ask you for any help,” she shot a web at the box with the inflatable pool inside, dragging it to her. She tightened her grip on the box. “I will set this up,” she said in a monotone voice as she walked off. Peter B shrugged it up and shouted, “Let’s have some fun!”

The streets of Nueva York were surrounded by loads of people celebrating the Fourth of July. Music was blasting in every corner. Cheerful shouts are all of what could be heard. Today appeared to be a day of peace and unity. That is what people would want you to think. This is a villain’s dream. A day where everyone’s guards are down and completely vulnerable. The perfect time to strike. Which was why Miguel couldn’t allow himself to relax. All of the other Spiders could take the day off if they wanted, but not him. That was something that was not available for his comfort. Or more like something he wouldn’t allow to be available for himself. He swung through every alley and every corner. Waiting for something to happen. He landed into an alleyway. His body slowly lurked in the shadows as he observed the sight before him.

Kids were running. Their faces filled with laughter and joy. Miguel could smell the barbecue scent from across the street. The music was so loud and booming. People were dancing and singing loudly to the lyrics. It was a wondrous sight, even to Miguel. This is probably what’s going in HQ right now, he thought to himself. He could imagine all the fun you must be having. The music, the food, all the Spiders all together. Can you not be Spiderman for one day? Your words stuck to him like glue. Constantly replaying in his mind.

Miguel turned around from the joyous sight and was preparing to continue his lookout. Until he heard someone. “Is that Spiderman?!”

Miguel turned around to see a few people running up to him. He walked out of the shadows and now was visible for everyone to see. A guy in an open shirt ran up to him. “Yo Spiderman! Can I take a picture?” Miguel didn’t argue and let the guy take a selfie with him. He shouted happily. He was certainly drunk. Some kids ran up to him. “Spiderman!” a little girl shouted. A boy shouted, “Do a trick Spiderman!” A young dad suddenly came in too. “Can you pose with my kids?” Miguel nodded and grabbed the girl and boy and put them on each shoulder.

The dad put his phone down. “Thank you so much Spiderman!”

Miguel gave the guy a nod as he gently put both kids back on the ground. “No problem.” A mom was walking with her phone and kid, most likely wanting Miguel to take a photo with her kid. He was going to take another photo until he heard a large noise. Suddenly, his spider senses tingled. All the people talking to him faded out as he tried to see where the noise could be coming from. He started to walk away, though people still kept trying to speak to him. “Sorry guys, but I must go,” he said as he shot his webs and flung himself far from everyone.

He swung from rooftop to rooftops with urgency. The closer he was, the louder the noises seemed. He landed on a rooftop and hid himself to avoid anyone from seeing him. He was hearing voices. He couldn’t quite make out what was being said until he heard someone shout, “Fireworks!” Suddenly the noise he heard before was clear to him. It wasn’t some villain preparing to strike but some people putting fireworks for today. He rubbed his temple, “Dios mio.” He felt really stupid. He peered his head slowly to get a good view. He saw a small group on the rooftop next to him. They all were cheering as the fireworks were in the air. They all seemed...happy. Just a group of people spending the day together and enjoying each other’s company. Your words lingered in his brain again. Just be Miguel. Is that too much to ask?

The party started at 6:30 and in a blink of an eye it was 9:00. The party had been going on for almost three hours and still felt as if the party just started. Peter B was dancing horribly. Jessica was talking with the other Spiders while also cringing at his moves.

You were near the pool with Hobie, Gwen and Miles accompanying you. You were recanting a story to them. You took a sip of your third drink. You were certainly a bit tispy, but so was almost everyone else here. Youcontinued to tell your story until your focus shifted as the DJ started playing Sunflower. Miles gave a shout. “Finally! My song!”

He ran over to the crowd where the DJ was while shouting the lyrics. “Look at him go,” Hobie pointed at him. You let out a laugh. Miles had been waiting the entire party for the song to come up. “We need to give him a new song to obsess about. It’s getting concerning,” you laughed. Gwen dipped a chip into the chicken dip she put on her plate. “I swear, I send him playlists all the time. Yet, he always sticks to the same song.”

You took a bite of a wing. “From now on, we need to establish a legit rule. No more Sunflower in HQ.” Gwen and Hobie both laughed. “I’m being serious,” you giggled.

“I’m pretty sure you can convince Miguel,” Gwen said, trying to prevent herself from letting out another laugh. “Oh sweetheart, I don’t think it would need much convincing. Miguel would make a thing without hesitation.” Everytime Miguel heard Miles even hum the tune, she could see his annoyance grow.

Gwen groaned as she took a bite of a chocolate fudge cookie. “Y/n I swear. This food is so good,” she said with her mouth full to the point where you couldn’t quite hear what she was saying entirely.. You appreciated the praise though cringed at her mouth full of food.

Hobie shook his head. “You Americans truly lack manners,” he joked. Gwen gulped her food and was about to retaliate until she saw something that caused her face to freeze in shock. Hobie whispered, “Oh shit.” All of a sudden, the music stopped. You turned your head and also stood in shock as you saw Miguel walk into the party. He wasn’t in his Spiderman suit, but had a red open shirt with a white tank top. He had some sandals and brown shorts. His eyes scanned the room as he noticed the sudden tension that appeared.

“Why is everybody so tense? Put the music back on and continue the party,” he said in a bit of a commanding tone. Just as he commanded, the Dj resumed his music and so did the party.

You walked over to him with a mix of happiness and surprise on your face. “You came.”

“I did,” he said to you softly. “I knew you would come,” you teased with a laugh. He raised his brow. “Are you tispy?” he asked. You squint your nose in response. “Just a little.”

He smirked at you, “Are you sure?” You giggled, “Yes.”

Miguel walked closer to you slowly, but the mood was completely ruined when Peter B came to Miguel sprinting and pushed him into the pool. You couldn’t hold it in. You bursted out in laughter to the point where you could feel your knees losing balance. Gwen and Hobie were also laughing. Miguel was soaked and did not seem too happy. He noticed your laughter.

“You think that’s funny,” he asked in a serious tone.

You laughed and nodded. “Yes I do.”

He swam closer to you and grabbed on to you to throw in the pool with him. You let out a laugh as you collided into the water. Then you could hear Peter B shout as he jumped into the pool. Then Hobie and Gwen joined in. Suddenly everyone was laughing and other Spiders joined in the water. You smiled as you took in all of this. Then you heard a subtle laugh. A laugh you haven’t heard in a while.

You quickly turned your head to Miguel. “Miguel O’ Hara, did you just laugh?” you teased. Miguel moved his face closer to you. “Did I? I don’t think I did,” he teased back with a smirk.

“Guys! The Fireworks!” you heard Miles shout. You averted your attention to the sky as fireworks shot up into the guy. It was a beautiful sight.

You could feel Miguel’s stare, so you slowly turned to him. For a moment everything went silent as you both just took each other in. “I’m glad you came,” you said with a loving smile. He took a moment to respond. He just couldn’t help himself but admire you. You could feel your face get a bit flushed. He finally responded, “So am I.” He smiled at you. Miguel O’ Hara smiling in front of everyone. Now that was a sight. You both moved closer to. Your lips brushed against each other into a sweet kiss.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman #fanfiction #miguel x y/n

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sweetwhispersofchaos · 10 months

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Red, White, & Blue

A Rooster x Phoenix one-shot Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, oh and lots of smut. Explicit. Minors DNI! Word count: 7240 Story and Cover Image Edit by me Prompt #74 from @creativepromptsforwriting @creativepromptfills (Feel free to reblog) A day late and a dollar short, this is my Fourth of July story.

Description: Rooster isn't a fan of the fourth, it was too close to the anniversary of his dads death. Phoenix tries to help him make new, happy memories.

After the Dagger squad completed their mission they dispersed back into the wind, separating to their four corners of the world to continue with their original units. Rooster found himself back in Japan to complete another five months of service there before being moved again. When his orders came down for San Diego, he wasn’t sad at all. He spent the last 5 months reconnecting with Maverick via facetime and now they could catch up on the years they missed with each other. There was a bonus to this assignment as well. Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote were all stationed there as well.

Rooster moved in April and by May was settled into his small apartment and with his new unit. He spent his days flying and nights banging on the piano at the hard deck with his friends. Maverick had retired finally and was helping Penny run the bar while consulting for the NAVY, so it was another way to spend time with his long-lost family. Things were going well, and he couldn’t complain.

Then his least favorite time of the year rolled around. July 4th was an important day for the country he served proudly, it was Americas birthday. Rooster, however, never felt much like celebrating. His dad had died just a few days prior to the holiday. His first fourth without his father was spent snuggling in his mother’s lap, watching fireworks from their backyard in Corpus Christi, Texas, while she sobbed uncontrollably. They never really celebrated the holiday; it was just too painful for his mother. She told Rooster one time when he was in high school and asked, about how July 4th was his father’s favorite holiday. He and Mav would have cookouts for their pilot friends that included at least one of them getting burned while running from fireworks and lots of singing americana themed songs off key. She looked so sad as she recalled these memories to him, and he decided to never bring it up again.

The fact that his father was a military man added insult to injury. Everything about the holiday was pomp and circumstance surrounding those who sacrificed for freedom. Rooster always struggled to see all the uniforms, military vehicles in parades, and fly overs on that day, so he decided to just ignore it, never going anywhere, never participating when asked, or celebrating at all.

When Mav and Penny invited him and his fellow aviators out to Mavericks hangar for a huge get together, Rooster panicked. He was getting along so well with the older pilot, and this might throw a wrench in everything. He didn’t want to be rude but how would he let the man down gently without telling him why he would be sitting on his couch with a beer and ignoring the outside world that day?

He tried. Several excuses later Penny had sweet talked him into making an appearance, especially after Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote had all enthusiastically accepted their invitations. Rooster was disgruntled to say the least. The thought of Maverick wanting to celebrate during this time of year really rubbed him the wrong way, and Phoenix must have picked up on that notion. The day after the invitation conversation at the Hard Deck, she cornered him at work before their hops.

“What’s up your ass, Bradshaw?” she asked from behind him as he walked towards the hangar door.

Rooster stopped in his tracks, swearing under his breath. He was hoping she wouldn’t bug him about it, but that woman never missed anything when it came to Rooster and his emotions. He turned around and found her standing with her arms crossed, an eyebrow inclined to the roof, waiting for an answer.

He sighed then tried to play it cool. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Bullshit” she immediately spat. “You couldn’t get out of the July 4th invitation fast enough last night. What gives? Don’t like us anymore?” she smirked.

“Depending on how much you continue to bug me about this, I might not.” He said completely dry.

Phoenix took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them. “I’m coming over after work to get one of your shitty beers and you’re going to tell me.” Then she lightly shoved his shoulder with her helmet before walking around him and heading for her jet.

Rooster turned and watched her go, rubbing his face with his free hand in exasperation before walking out into the California heat. He never thought he would have to have this conversation with anyone, especially Phoenix. They had always had a thing of sorts, although they never made a move past being best friends. They were close and had been since they met at Top Gun 8 years ago. They told each other everything and travelled around each other’s orbit, but he always kept her at arm’s length, not wanting to bring anyone into his personal shit nor start something he wasn’t sure he could see all the way through. It had been a few years since they had seen each other in person when they were both called back for the special detachment and Rooster began to feel all sorts of feelings again. But he still wasn’t sure he wanted to bring her all the way into his bubble.

Guess she was going to push her way in whether he wanted her to or not.

After work he tried to slip out before she could catch him but no such luck. Phoenix was already leaning against her jeep parked next to his Bronco. Rooster let out an exasperated breath as he approached her, having half a mind to remove his shades so she could see his irritation on full display, but it wouldn’t have mattered, a satisfied smirk on her face already.

“Would you believe me if I told you I already have plans this evening?” he asked as he stopped at the front of the Bronco to address her.

She stood up and grabbed her backpack from the ground “Not in the least. Start driving Bradshaw, I’m right behind you.” Then she practically skipped to her driver’s side door and hopped into the jeep. Rooster just shook his head then trudged to his own door, taking his time getting in and turning everything on, hoping it would deter her, but knowing better. Damn that woman, if he didn’t like her, he’d hate her. She never took his crap, or anyone else’s, he had to give her credit for that.

Once they pulled into his complex, they both walked silently up to his door but before he could unlock it, he turned to face her. “Look. I’d rather be alone right now.” Was all he said.

Her smile became a little crestfallen as her eyes dropped from his. She took a slow breath then looked up at him. “Listen, I can respect that if it wasn’t so obvious that you’re in pain over something. How long do we have to be best friends before you let me in? We went eight years without me knowing about the whole Maverick situation. You don’t have to hold all this shit in, you know? I want to be here for you, not just as coworkers and drinking buddies.” Then her eyes drifted down to her hands that were fiddling nervously with the strap from her backpack. It wasn’t often she dropped her tough exterior but when she did, it was usually with him and he found it beautiful.

Rooster contemplated for a minute. How long was he going to keep her pushed out of his heart. If he was honest with himself, he had let her in a long time ago, he was just scared, for so many reasons. They were coworkers, which was a weird grey area to begin with, then the thought of doing to her what his dad had done to his mom, leaving her broken and alone, just about killed him to think about. Then there was all his personal bullshit. She had her own issues in life to worry about, why should he bog her down with his own misery?

Was he being fair though? She was a big girl, maybe he should let her decide for herself if he was worth the trouble, she was obviously willing to put herself through on his behalf. For years he had been her go-to person, why couldn’t he finally let her be that for him? He steeled his resolve, turned back to the door, unlocked it, then held it open, using his other hand to wave her into his place.

She looked up at him quizzically at first then a meek smile crossed her face, and she breezed past him. The apartment was sparse, and she had been there plenty of times that it was a second home for Phoenix at this point. She dropped her backpack in the closet by the door, toeing off her sneakers, then walked into the kitchen without a word. Rooster did the same, dropping his bag and shoes into the closet before flopping into his recliner, already exhausted from the conversation he was about to have. He heard the pop of two beer bottles then she brought him one before tucking her legs under her on the end of the couch closest to him.

They sat in silence drinking from their beers for a while. He was starting to think maybe she had changed her mind when she spoke up.

“I’m not sure what to ask to get this conversation started.”

He exhaled “It’s pretty cut and dry. My dad died 33 years ago on June 30th, 1986.

Her eyes went big. “Rooster, that’s tomorrow.” she all but whispered.

He only shook his head in slow affirmative then took a long draw from his beer.

“My mom loved that man deeper than any love that ever existed, I think. When he was killed,” he took a ragged breath, trying to hold it together, “it liked to have killed her too. The fourth became more of a day of mourning than a happy occasion for us. Mom didn’t feel much up to doing anything that day.” He paused for another drink.

“Sure, that makes sense.” Was all she said before taking a swig of her own beer.

“That woman was such a character. You would have loved her. She was hard not to love. I mean, I’ve told you some of the wild and wacky stuff we did when I was growing up. Holidays were always a big deal, except the fourth. The only place we ever went was to the cemetery sometimes but as I got older, I just couldn’t go and watch her lay on that patch of grass and sob for hours in the Texas sun. “A few tears escaped his eyes, much to his protests. Before he could wipe them though, a small, calloused hand reached up and swiped his cheek gently. He looked at her, her eyes watery and filled with compassion.

“Rooster, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to grieve however you feel is best. If that means holed up here on the fourth, then do it. I don’t mind covering for you.” She hesitated, “or I could come hole up here with you. So, you’re not alone?”

He let loose a soft smile “I’d like that.” He said with a rasp in his voice before he could stop himself. Was this the clutch his mom had on his dads’ heart? Is this what it felt like? He didn’t deserve this tough, hardheaded, yet gentle woman. She suddenly made what felt like the world’s worst day into something to look forward to.

“Do me a favor? Talk to Mav. I know he might try to talk you into going to the party but give him a chance to prove you wrong. He deserves to know what’s on your mind.”

Rooster just nodded then finished off his bottle. She chased hers until it was empty and then stood and reached for his bottle. Phoenix threw them away then moved to the closet to put her shoes back on and grab her bag. He stood and walked to the entry way, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall watching her.

She spoke over her shoulder “I hate to chat and run but I’m meeting up with a couple of girlfriends at the gym.” She turned and almost ran into him as she closed the closet door. She was so close he could feel her breath on his crossed arms. Her eyes drifted up to his and he smirked.

“So, what are we going to do Sunday for the fourth?” he asked cheekily.

She only stared at him then exhaled into a smile. “Whatever you want Lieutenant.” S stepped back, opened the door and disappeared.

Rooster wasn’t sure what to make of that comment but suddenly the fourth didn’t seem so scary.

The next day after work, Rooster went to dinner at Penny’s house like he did most Wednesdays. This was a somber meal considering the day, and Mav struggled to get through his toast to Goose. Rooster hadn’t seen Mav on this anniversary in many years and he could tell it aged the man more and more as the years passed. He would probably always blame himself for what happened, no matter what anyone said. Rooster wondered if he would ever have to go through something like that. Hazard of the job and all.

After Amelia went to her room to work on homework, he had the dreaded conversation with Penny and Mav. He was pleasantly surprised when they were both extremely understanding, even Mav. Rooster could tell it stung a little, under the circumstances, but they agreed he should do what he needed to do and that he was always welcome if he changed his mind.

Rooster helped Penny carry a stack of dishes to the kitchen and began to rinse them while she toweled them off and placed them in the dishwasher.

“So, do you mind if I ask what you plan to do for the fourth?” she asked calmly.

“I don’t mind. Phoenix is coming over.”

He caught the eyebrow raise and intrigued look she gave him out of the corner of his eye, but she didn’t press, and he didn’t say more.

Maybe he and Phoenix could make some new memories to replace the bad ones? Suddenly, for the first time since he was three years old, he was looking forward to the fourth of July.

The rest of the week at work seemed to drag and there was an obvious tension between Phoenix and himself, but in the best possible way. They used their flying as flirting, and it bordered on foreplay in the air. They pushed each other, goading the other on and passing smart ass remarks back and forth to each other. Even Coyote made a sideways comment that Friday about it.

“Could you two and your planes get a room please?” He cracked as they walked back to the hangar from their jets.

Bob choked on a snort, Phoenix just made a taunting face at him, and Rooster looked away trying to hide the blush he could feel crawling across his cheeks.

Phoenix shot back “Only if you and your ego get one first.” Everyone laughed and then parted ways for their weekend festivities. When Rooster made it out to the parking lot, he found Phoenix once again leaning against her jeep right next to his Bronco.

“So” she said once he was close enough to hear.

“So” he replied, nonchalantly, as he tossed his gear into the back of the Bronco.

“So, I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Yeah, if you still want?”

She snorted her reply, her face looking skeptical. “Change your mind Bradshaw? I could always go over to Mavs with the rest of them?” her eyebrow raised in amusement as he came to stand in front of her, dangerously close again, looking down on her from behind his aviator shades. She was playing coy and he kind of liked it. Oh no, he had decided once and for all that this cat and mouse game was done and his fourth was going to be the best one in the history of his fourths.

He slid his glasses down his nose, looking over the top of them as a Cheshire cat grin crossed his face. “Two pm, don’t be late.” Then he winked and slid his glasses back up.

She shook her head with a chuckle and they both jumped into their cars and drove away.

At 1:45PM Sunday July 4th Rooster was a nervous wreck. He had secretly thought of this moment for a very long time. Was he getting ahead of himself? Maybe all she wanted was to flirt and keep things platonic otherwise? Only one way to find out, he figured. Anything to distract him from how he normally felt on this day.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror, sporting a patriotic Hawaiian shirt over his usual white tank and a pair of khaki shorts. He could hear the sarcastic remarks already. He hoped the surprises he had for her would be appreciated, at least for the effort. He decided the only way to move forward was to take a page out of Carole Bradshaw’s book of unconventional fun. Even though she never did anything entertaining for the fourth, he used his imagination based on every other holiday they had celebrated together and went to work.

At two o’clock on the dot he heard a knock at his door before it swung open. He quickly grabbed a white beard and patriotic top hat and threw them on before exiting his bedroom “Bradshaw, come help me” She called out, her smaller frame bent over trying to pick up a few grocery bags. He had to smile at the visual. She was wearing a tiny red tank top and very short denim shorts, her own pair of aviator shades covering her eyes, and her car keys were hanging out of her mouth while she struggled with the bags. He smiled at the sight.

Phoenix raised her head to look at him and froze on the spot, her car keys slamming to the ground as her jaw slid open. He put his arms out as if to say “ta-da” and she began laughing hysterically. She was laughing so hard she began to grab her side and used her other hand to clutch the door frame.

“What” she laughed more, trying to breath “are you wearing Colonel Sanders?”

He scoffed then walked to the door and scooped up all the bags in dramatic fashion. “I’m Uncle Sam, thank-you-very-much.” Then he winked and made his way to the kitchen, listening to her continue to cackle and gasp for air.

“You’re letting out all the bought air, get in here, would you?” he called from the kitchen as he began pulling items from the bags. There was a considerable amount of alcohol, some junk food, and a bakery carton of red, white and blue sprinkled cookies. The door closed and she finally appeared in the doorway, immediately busting out into another fit of laughter as soon as she saw him. She was wiping tears from her eyes and clutching her side still.

“You have GOT to take that off or I’ll pee myself.”

“Aw come on, where’s your sense of fun?” he asked.

“You look like Santa came to visit for the fourth.” She giggled.

“Ok, that did it.” He said flatly and removed the items.

“That’s better” she said and moved into the kitchen to give him a hug, raising up on her tiptoes so she could wrap her arms around his neck. Something was instantly different about this hug. Sure, they had hugged plenty over the years. Being in many near death situations will do that to you. But this was a different hug. They weren’t pulling apart. No one moved or let go. They just stood in the middle of the kitchen, her arms around his neck, his strong arms wrapped around her middle, very still.

“Glad you could come” he said barely above a whisper into the side of her head.

With that she pulled back some, a shy smile on her face as they continued to hold each other.

“I wouldn’t have missed Santa Sam for the world.” She said with a grin, and he poked her side, knowing full well she was extremely ticklish. She released a very unladylike snort and turned around to run, shouting behind her “Ok now I do have to pee.” The bathroom door closed, and he waited just a couple of seconds before he heard a loud “Oh shit” from the lavatory.

She found another one of his surprises.

A few minutes later she came running back into the living room where Rooster sat on the couch waiting for her. She launched herself at him, landing with her legs straddling his lap, her hands attempting to get to his neck, but he held her wrists firm, laughing deeply at the feigned angry look on her face.

“Seriously Bradshaw, a fucking Uncle Sam inside the toilet lid? You about gave me a heart attack!” She continued wrestling with him, trying to get free.

All Rooster could do was laugh much in the same way she did when she first arrived. Her position hadn’t been lost on him either. This was not a position they had been in before and he was starting to sweat through his laughter.

“Oh, come on, that was funny you gotta admit.” He said and then with his hands still firmly wrapped around her wrists he maneuvered her arms behind her back and held her there, a prisoner. His prisoner. She stopped squirming in his lap, thankfully, and just stared at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not admitting anything” she said low, and he just gave her a small, pursed lip smile before he did it. He made his move. Rooster sat up, held her wrists, and brushed his lips briefly across hers. He immediately opened his eyes, hoping she wasn’t pissed, but all he saw was a beautiful flush across her cheeks, her eyes still closed. She sunk a little and wiggled her arms trying to go free, so he released her wrists. Her hands moved to his chest and her lids slowly fluttered open. Their eyes met and he almost dissipated under the warmth of the melting chocolate staring back at him.

He brought his hands up to cover hers on his chest, rubbing small circles on the back of them with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking.” He said, genuinely sorry that he took advantage of the situation. A rueful smile played across her face and then without warning she was on him.

Her hands slid up his chest, across his shoulders, wrapping around the back of his neck as she leaned in. His eyes were open in shock at first as she began kissing him, but this time it was deep and needy. His hands moved to her hips, gripping them tighter than he probably should, and he pulled her closer until she was resting against him. She slid her tongue across his bottom lip, and he was all too happy to part them for her. Their tongues began to dance, and a small moan escaped her that sent a chill all the way down his spine.

No sooner had it started, she was pulling away from his face, flustered but smiling a genuine and radiant smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for a very long time. Glad you decided to skip the asking and just get to the good stuff.”

He was gob smacked. Natasha Trace does not throw caution to the wind, quite literally. This almost feral and lackadaisical version of his best friend had him more confused than he was before their talk the other day. Why didn’t she ever say anything?

Before he could ask, she lifted herself from him and reached her hands out to pull him up.

“C’mon Colonel, any other surprises?” she asked.

His mind went down a wicked path and it must have shown on his face because she lightly smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand. “For the fourth you pig.”

He chucked then took her hand in his and lead her to the small dining table near the kitchen. The table and walls were covered in cheap dollar store decorations including plastic patriotic plates, cups, and cutlery.

“You really had fun with this didn’t you?” She asked him.

“Just wait, there’s games and everything. My mother would be so proud.” He said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Of course, there is.” And she just rolled her eyes.

An hour later the table was covered in various snack packages and discarded beer bottles. Papers for name that patriotic tune and a fourth of July crossword sat discarded next to a small Bluetooth speaker. They had moved their chairs closer together and were looking at a piece of paper together.

“Rooster, some of these are just gross.”

“That’s the point of the game This or That. Gotta find the lesser of two evils.”

“Fine, but I refuse to go through with anything actually on this sheet.”

“Not a requirement.” He said with a smile.

“Ok I’m going first then.” And she snatched the paper from his hands. “Let’s see” she said as she poured over the options. “How about this. Wear a mullet forever or have red, white and blue hair forever?”

He sucked air through his teeth as if this was the toughest decision he’s ever had to make. “You know, I rocked a mullet for most of second and third grade. Wasn’t pretty but at least it would be closer to regs than colorful hair so, mullet it is.”

Phoenix laughed as she passed the paper. “I want to see those pictures!”

“No way.” he shook his head and picked up his drink. “I’m pretty sure I burned those pictures.”

“Liar. Now ask me one.”

“Patience mam. I’m working on it.” He took a drink and put his bottle back down. He looked down the list and asked, “Would you rather drink ketchup through a straw or eat mayo with a spoon?”

She immediately acted as if she was gagging. “I don’t like either of those.”

“That’s not the point of the game Phee, you gotta choose.”

She shot him a dirty look and grunted “Fine. Sucking a condiment through a straw, regardless of what it is, just sounds shitty so I’ll go mayo with a spoon.” And her body shuddered in disgust.

He laughed then passed the paper back to her.

She skimmed her finger down the list and made comments as she went. “That one is gross too. I don’t want to know the answer to this one. I already know the answer to that one.”

“Whoa whoa whoa know it all, ask it anyway. I might surprise you.”

She looked at him annoyed. “Trust me you won’t. Not on this one.”

He sat back and crossed his arms, daring her to ask with his expression. She rolled her eyes again and spoke in a very sarcastic tone. “Would you rather sing all night or dance all night?” Then she tossed the paper down in front of him, sure of what was coming next.

Rooster contemplated his answer though then an idea hit him. He pushed his chair back and stood up, Phoenix looking all together confused. Rooster fiddled with his phone for a minute then hit the power button on the small speaker. A Jason Aldean song started up and he held his hand out to her.

“If the answer involves you then the answer is dancing all night.”

She looked stunned as she reached her hand up to meet him. The next thing he knew they were in front of his couch, her right hand enclosed in his left as he held her close, their bodies swaying to the music.

Rooster started singing the words to the song quietly into the top of her head.

“I think technically its cheating if you sing while dancing, per your insistence that you have to choose one or the other for the game.”

He chuckled “Ok, dancing only.” Then the arm he had around her lower back pulled her in closer and she turned her head sideways to rest it on his chest. They continued to sway through the end of the song and then all the way through another song before she spoke again.

“Rooster?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s dance all night.”

The implications of her statement hung thick in the air and his swaying faltered. He looked down as she looked up at him, something desperate sparkling in her eyes. There was no going back from something like this. He warred with himself for a split second before he made his decision.

Rooster slid both of his hands under her ass and lifted her up suddenly, causing her to let out a tiny squeak. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and they began kissing. These weren’t small, meek kisses. These kisses were intrusive. Tongues dipped in and out and her teeth grazed his bottom lip, causing him to squeeze her ass. Rooster began walking towards his room, barely able to see as they continued to kiss hard and furiously.

Once in the room, he used his foot to close the door before turning and pressing her back to it. He stood holding her against his bedroom door but pulled his lips away to look at her one more time.

Between ragged breaths she asked “what?”

Rooster swallowed hard, touching his forehead to hers. “This will change everything. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

He felt her lips place a light kiss on his forehead.

“Rooster, look at me.” And he did. “I want everything to change. Now please, change it.”

He didn’t need to hear anymore. His lips crashed into hers and the race was on. His mustache created chill bumps on her skin as his lips worked their way down her neck until he was lightly sucking on a sensitive spot near her collarbone. Her nails were starting to dig into his back, and it made him suck harder, eliciting pants from Phoenix that were like music to his ears. Her body was writhing against him, clearly searching for more.

Rooster slowly lowered her to the ground until she was standing and grazed his lips lightly across her collarbone and shoulder as he turned her to face the door. With her hands resting on the door in front of her, he gently slid some of her hair out of the way and sucked on the back of her neck. She moaned her approval.

His hands slid up her sides until they were resting on her breasts, slowly needing them through her tank top and bra. She moved his hands and yanked her shirt over her head, momentarily pushing his lips away from her neck. When his hands moved back to her breasts, he realized something amazing, her bra was a front clasp.

His fingers made quick work of the small hooks and as the cups fell away his warm hands covered both breasts, another moan escaping her pretty mouth. He began rolling her nipples with his fingers and her ass grazed his dick, making him jump. Roosters’ hands moved to her shoulders and slid the red lacy bra down her arms until it hit the floor.

Phoenix turned around and crushed her lips to his, frantically removing both of his shirts. As they skimmed lips, she traced her tiny fingers over each curve of his abdomen then he felt her pert breasts pushing against him as she wrapped her arms around his midsection.

Rooster wasn’t sure how much more he could take; his brain was screaming. His cock was screaming. He wanted her to scream.

They began moving towards the bed, never ending the waltz their tongues were dancing together. Rooster unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop to the ground before he unbuttoned hers. Before he could lower them though, she stepped back, panting and flushed. He was worried that she had changed her mind but then she gave him the sexiest grin. She turned around and hooked her thumbs into the top of her shorts. What happened next almost dissolved Rooster on the spot.

Phoenix bent over slowly, and as she did, she pushed her shorts down gradually, revealing a thin pair of red lace panties. There she was, her ass in the air, and she wiggled it ever so slightly, teasing him. He was done playing. Eight years of sexual tension was a huge itch, and he was about to scratch it so good she just might cry.

He gave her right ass cheek a small spank and she gasped. Before she could react further though, he grabbed her hips and turned her as she stood back up. Then, with his eyes connected to hers, he lowered himself to his knees. His fingers skimmed the outside of her legs as he placed a small kiss to her stomach. He slid his fingers deliberately up her thighs until he hooked his thumb into the single string holding up the panties on either side. Then he was lowering them, smoothly crawling his fingers across her skin as he did.

He wanted to worship her. She deserved nothing less. This was an enormous gift she was giving him, and he didn��t want to waste it.

She stepped out of her panties and then ran her hands through the tufts of his brown curls. When she tugged on it, he growled then leaned in and swooped his tongue across the outside of her heat. He could smell her arousal and his cock throbbed painfully. She tugged again and he raised his head to look at her. She looked at him through hooded eyes, lust radiating from her skin.

Rooster used his hands on her hips to move her until the backs of her legs hit the bed and she sat. Staring straight into her soul, he placed his hands on her knees then pulled them apart, spreading her wide. Without warning he buried his face between her soft thigs and ran his tongue from her vagina to her clit, producing the most beautiful cry from her as she threw her head back.

He smirked to himself then slid his arms under her thighs, wrapping them all the way around and gripping them tight. He blew a light breath onto her wet slick, and she shuddered. Then he began lapping at her opening as if it were the best ice cream he had ever tasted. His tongue pushed into her, and she whimpered. His tongue moved north and began a beautiful assault of her clit. He started slow, savoring the movement of her body against his face and the tiny noises she began to make. He circled her then sucked gently, gradually picking up the pace. She moved her hips in rhythm with his tongue, a barrage of obscenities pouring from her mouth. She was getting close, and he could tell.

Rooster removed one of his arms from her leg and she made a noise of protest until two of his fingers entered her wet folds and she cried out. He hooked his fingers and thrust them quickly while his tongue struck her mound faster and faster. This tempo unraveled her forcefully, her pelvis grinding into his face and fingers as she threw her head back and let out a shriek, he was sure the neighbors had to of heard. She twisted and pressed against him as she rode her wave and her movements slowed as his did. He slowly skimmed her slit with his tongue as he removed his fingers, her pants shooting straight to his core.

He stood and looked down at her, naked and open to him. She was a vision of beauty and he felt so overwhelmed by this scene his stomach tightened.

Phoenix let her head roll to the side, her eyes opening to meet his as her breath finally slowed. She reached out to his swollen dick, trapped in his boxer briefs, and ran her hand from base to tip. His whole body jumped, and an unattractive noise escaped his mouth. Her lips curved into the sexiest smile and without hesitation she gently pulled the waistband away from his cock then yanked the underwear all the way down in one swift movement.

Before Rooster could react, her tongue was on him, grazing the underside of his cock until it reached the tip. She licked the precum away then took him whole, filling her pretty mouth with all of him. Animalistic noises echoed from his mouth as she hollowed out her checks to suck him hard. Her hands were cradling his balls and the base of his penis as she slid her mouth up and down in agile movements. He was seeing stars and getting close. As much as he would love to see her mouth take his cum, he had other ideas of where he wanted it to go.

Rooster ran his hands through her raven hair then gently pulled her back until her mouth was empty of him. She looked at him with innocence, knowing full well how naughty she was being. He looked at her hungerly and his voice came out extremely husky when he told her to move back. She obliged, using her feet to push herself further onto the bed.

He crawled across the bed with her and as she lowered herself back onto her elbows, he placed his hands on either side of her and dropped down for a deep kiss. When she pulled away, he gazed into her eyes before wrapping his arms around her and laying her all the way onto the bed smoothly. His eyes searched hers the whole time, looking for any ounce of doubt or fear before he crossed the last precipice of their relationship. Knowing where his mind was, she reached out to stroke his cheek with her hand. A beautiful smile grew, and she said the one word he needed to hear. “Please.” She almost whispered. He only nodded his head and moved in closer between her legs.

He placed his lips on hers, languid kisses shared between them as he aligned his cock to her entrance. With her arms wrapped around his neck he slid in, and she inhaled sharply, her chin lifting to the ceiling. Rooster peppered her jaw line with light kisses as he began to move, gradually at first. They had waited eight years for this moment, he wanted both to savor it. His lips moved down as he rocked into her and took first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, his tongue circling each one until she was begging for more. Her pleading made him brave. Before she even had time to register what was happening, he had grabbed her around her waist and rolled over, his back landing on a stack of pillows, Phoenix still connected and now, on top of him.

She placed her hands on his chest, steadying herself, before a dangerous look crossed her face. Whatever happened next, he knew he was going to enjoy it immensely.

Bracing herself she began rocking back and forth, grinding her sensitive bud against his pelvis. Her head rolled and lulled with the movements, his hips swaying to meet her. She sat up as she continued to rub against him and raised her hands into her hair, putting her exquisite breasts on full display for him. He reached up and pinched her nipples between his fingers as she let out moans in time with her movements.

Rooster brought one of his thumbs to her mouth, beckoning for her to suck on it, which she did like a good girl. Then he brought his thumb to her clit and began slow circles that had her calling for God. The harder he pressed the more she pushed down, her actions becoming more erratic as she reached behind her and grabbed his inner thighs for support. Seconds later she was falling apart again, a cry erupting from her mouth that ripped right through his body, awakening something feral and needy in him. Before she could come down from her high, he had rolled them over again and was burying himself so deep in her that he thought he might shatter immediately.

His mouth was sucking at her collarbone while her hands clawed at his shoulder blades. He pounded into her with all the force he could muster, her cries growing louder with each thrust. Suddenly he realized she wasn’t just wailing incoherently. His name was pouring from her mouth. Not his callsign, but his name.

“Bradley, oh god Bradley” she yelled over and over as he crashed into her. Something about his name on her lips had his mind and body spiraling. With two more fast and hard plows he blew his load into her as he called her name into the void.

“Oh Natasha, holy shit.” His cock exploding forcefully into her body.

He stilled buried to the hilt, both breathing intensely, tiny whimpers escaping her mouth with each heave of her chest. As his mind came back to earth, he regained some of his bearings and eased the tension of his body from against hers. His lips met hers in a tender kiss that she reciprocated as best as she could between heavy breaths.

His heart almost burst when she smiled at him, her cheeks flushed, a sheen touching her brow. She was stunning and it made his heart clench. This was it for him. No more shutting her out. He wanted all of her like this, over and over again, for eternity. He had found his happiness.

As he softened, he slid out of her and sat back on his heels, watching her regain composure as her breaths became steadier. She raised her hand for help, and he grabbed it, sitting her up gingerly. She bent her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her chin came to rest on the top of her knees, and she gave him a gorgeous mega watt smile.

Rooster moved next to her and laid back on the stack of pillows. He rubbed circles lazily on her bare back, connecting the scars he could see. Into the dark she suddenly spoke, pulling him out of his trance.

“Bradley?”

“Yeah baby?”

She peered over her shoulder at him with her eyebrow raised, wearing a smirk.

“Can we do this every Fourth of July?”

He chuckled then opened his arms, beckoning her to join him. She laid back and nestled herself to his side while he wrapped his arms around her. He placed a peck to the tip of her nose and the corners of his mouth raised.

“Let freedom ring, baby.” And they both fell into a heap of laughter and bliss.

Just like that the Fourth of July became his favorite holiday, year after year.

#top gun maverick #natasha phoenix trace #top gun phoenix #natasha trace #top gun fanfiction #phoenix x rooster #bradley bradsha #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fluff #natasha trace smut #rooster x phoenix #roonix #creative writing prompt

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smurphyse · 1 year

Text

Lead Paint & Salt Air | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: mentions of Diana's death (not explicit), mini-PTSD flashback for Spencer, Spencer's horny and lonely, also cranky.

Summary: After two years on the road, Spencer breaks down in Thunderbird, California. In only a few hours he meets some of the most eclectic townspeople of his life when all he wants is some peace and quiet.

(Note: Because of the nature of this fic, being inspired by one of my favorite bands, the chapters will be a bit longer than usual to fit with the vibe of the song they're named after <3)

After he was released from Milburn, Spencer’s mother passed in her sleep. It was blessedly quick and painless for her, and though it tore him apart he was grateful at least for that. Finally, Spencer had nothing pressing tying him to D.C., and he followed Gideon’s lead so many years later. Buying a Jeep and taking to the road, Spencer lived out of a suitcase as he’d done for years.

Instead of searching for serial killers, he began a long search for himself.

For two years now, he’d asked miles of pavement and yellow dashed paint who he was. He questioned the night sky and the morning sun over countless towns and cities. He’d even asked the mountaintops and hillsides, and yet he had found no answer.

Spencer started drinking again. It seemed the thing to do in shitty motel rooms and dive bars, putting on a few pounds with each greasy dish that accompanied his bourbon. The bags under his eyes were no longer from a lack of sleep - though he still didn’t get much because of the nightmares - but instead they stained his skin from the exhaustion of that ever-present question in his mind.

Is this who I am now?

Am I broken? Am I beyond salvation? Am I as worthless and lonely as I feel every single fucking day?

It all started when he tried to strangle a pregnant Cat Adams in an interrogation room. He slid down the cold concrete wall in a prison too much like the one he’d been released from when it first erupted through his brain like a bullet. One question led to another… and another and another, but they always started with that one.

Is this who I am now?

At this point, he was sure he’d never find the answer. Instead, he’d contented himself with wandering, exploring all that America currently had to offer. One day he’d move internationally, maybe go back to Paris where he’d spent time with his mother.

He’d happened upon Thunderbird, California early that morning. Worried he was lost forever in the Cali wilderness, Spencer followed the rising sun through winding forest roads as it streamed through the trees. After a few hours cautiously eyeing the offshutes of paths and trails, he finally burst into civilization.

It was a tiny beach town. A handful of buildings littered the main street, string lights connecting them along with the wind-blown piles of sand scattering along the road. Houses haphazardly were plopped along the varying hills that hid it from the outside world, but it was beautiful.

The shops on the main strip were brightly painted, handmade signs reading Billy’s Bait and Go!, Sue Says Sew, and Gil’s Grocery proudly proclaiming strangely named stores that gave little question for what they did to service the town. Spencer had yet to spot a normal chair on the porches outside- they were all either beach chairs or porch swings swaying in the light breeze.

Sunday was the Fourth of July, and the town was in full patriotic mode. Red, white, and blue windmills and flags sprung up from nearly every lawn. A fireworks stand was smack dab in the middle of a roundabout in the center of town, with a few people hurrying across the curved road to it. A man in an oversized Uncle Sam hat handed out sparklers to the kids, smiling wider than the sun.

Spencer spent the morning in the town diner, Bean There, looking out the large window as the small town came to life. It was apparently known for its local coffee. Spencer had to admit it was good, on the top ten list he’d tried in his travels. Though the best coffee had been found in a China Town shop in lower Indiana, which he was loath to admit.

He sat in a booth in the corner, people watching as the crowds picked up and petered out. All sorts of people filtered through the door as they used the diner as a waystation before heading out to the rest of their days. In a town of less than five hundred, any outsider was noticed immediately, and Spencer was no different. Nearly every person who came in eyeballed his Jeep on the way through the door and squinted at Spencer before ordering. He didn’t mind, he was used to being the outsider, had been his whole life.

He picked at a plate of waffles and bacon, holding a book loosely in one hand as he enjoyed the morning sunlight through the window. His waitress, Michelle, had given him a side-eye after his first hour, unsure what to make of him. He simply tipped her early, going with a twenty-five percent tip of what he’d already ordered. She was much more amenable after that, mostly leaving him alone but checking in periodically with a smile and a refill.

His hair was still long. He had refused to cut it, even after JJ's insistence over video chats. He liked it, especially liked these new trends of men finally getting to put their hair in a bun. He liked the look, and had been enamored with the Nordic styles he read of in his youth, braiding and intricate knots decorated with silver and beads. He missed those days in Earth’s history.

He wore a pair of jeans and a purple flannel shirt with his boots. Though he often preferred suits, this style had appealed to him greatly in his early days on the road. He’d been called a “hipster” more times than he cared to admit, but he felt strong in his fashion choices. He knew he looked good, and Spencer had long since gotten used to the beard. Shaving on the road was hard and without the dress code constrictions of the BAU, he was happy to grow it out.

“Hey, Honey!” Michelle chuckled from behind the counter as the front door swung open. It chimed in greeting as two people stepped through and into the cool air-conditioned building. Spencer tried not to stare at the woman, but he’d spent a good long time on the road and it had been a while… and she was gorgeous.

Her hair poofed around her shoulders, eyes alight with an animated excitement. Copper toned muscles peeked out of a tank top and tight jeans, a red flannel tied around her hips as she sauntered into the diner. She had her arm looped around an older man’s waist, who hugged her tightly back before letting go as they approached the counter.

He had a clearly visible Ranger tattoo on his bicep, both of which were bigger than Spencer’s head. With his slicked back salt and pepper curls and giant frame, Spencer knew he wanted nothing to do with being on that man’s bad side.

“Mornin’, Chelle,” she smiled, easing into the stool across from the waitress. The man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, looking curiously around the diner as many patrons had that morning. His gaze landed on Spencer, who quickly glanced out the window to avoid his hard stare. "How's it going?"

“Oh, you know how it goes- a flirt here, a proposal there,” Michelle jokingly lamented as she pulled two mugs out from under the bar. She snagged the carafe from the coffee maker and filled them before sliding them across the counter.

“Oof,” the man chuckled heartily, finally tearing his dark eyes from Spencer and to her. “Sounds exhausting.”

“You joke all you want, Rose Delgado,” Michelle scolded, her playful smirk turning to a hard glare. She pointed at him, “I am a catch and everyone here knows it.”

Rose held up his hands in defeat, “My bad, Chelle. You’re absolutely right. If I were a few years younger I’d try for your hand too.”

“Who says you can’t?” she quipped with a wink, and Rose went bright red.

He dragged an awkward hand across the back of his neck and laughed, "Huh, well, I think Mattie May might have a problem with that."

The women laughed along with him, and Michelle tapped the counter lightly with her fingers, "I'll put your usual in. Extra powdered sugar, right, Honey?"

The girl referred to now forever in Spencer's brain as Honey nodded, licking her lips. "It's gonna be a long day, Chelle. Give me as much coke as you got."

Rose smacked the top of her head in jest, and Honey looked up to stick her tongue out at him. She glanced over at Spencer as he slid out of the booth, and even as he made his way over to the counter to pay she never averted her gaze. A gold ring was tied to a string necklace around her neck, and it was all Spencer had not to follow it to where the pendant rested between her boobs.

"You drive that Jeep outside?" Rose grumbled as he approached. Michelle came back up to the counter as Spencer tugged his wallet out of his pocket.

He handed her more than enough for his meal and another tip, then nodded, "Yeah, that's mine."

"Your axle is about to crack. You should get it looked at."

"I'll do that," Spencer replied politely. He was used to strangers telling him things he didn't really need to do by now. They often took one look at him and deemed him an academic, which wasn't wrong, but to them it usually meant he couldn't take care of things himself.

"Here's your change, baby," Michelle interrupted, reaching across the counter with a ten in one hand and a to-go cup of joe in the other. Rose stared at him, as did Honey, but Spencer just shook his head at the waitress.

"Keep it. Thanks for letting me keep your booth for a few hours."

He swept up the cup, gave her a nod and turned on his heel out the door. She laughed to herself and shouted after him, "Come back soon!

"Boy tips real good," he heard her just before the door closed behind him. "He can live in that booth if he wants."

Spencer smiled to himself as he hopped in the jeep. This was a nice town, but he'd been through a lot of nice towns. He had to keep moving, searching, coming up with a reason for leaving his friends behind to worry about him.

He decided to see the beach before going back through the trees. He wanted to see Oregon, but his phone didn't work so well in these isolated parts of the state so he'd have to buy a map somewhere. He made note of the lone gas station in town, then followed the signs to the sand.

It was early, but there were people in the water. Spencer wasn't much for swimming, so he parked his jeep in the small lot and pulled a blanket out of the back. He found a secluded spot on a hill, unfurled the blanket and sat down. He took off his flannel and shoes, leaning back to enjoy the view.

The sounds of shrieking laughter and the waves lulled him into complacency as he sipped his coffee. The sun was hot, but not too bad for this early in the morning. Unlike DC, this area wasn't humid, and the soft winds off the water cooled his skin.

Is this who I am now? Popped into his mind, always at the worst times. Once upon a time, he was a strong and capable man, an elite FBI agent always willing to go the extra mile. Now, even sitting here exhausted him. Speaking to the townsfolk at the counter exhausted him, and all he wanted to do was have a drink and go to sleep.

Is this who I am now? He wondered. Am I the guy who has nowhere to go and nowhere to be except the road, running far away from my past and the pain that follows?

He supposed so. Being out here hurt less than sitting in his empty apartment, looking into the void of his missing heart and wondering just when exactly his life passed him by. He always thought he’d have a family, kids and a wife by now. He thought he’d have a house and people to depend on him, that he’d love and they’d never wonder if it was out of obligation or a bond from trauma like it had been with the BAU.

Sure, they called him every week or so, just to see if he was okay. Their voices were always laced with concern, but a dripping tiredness of having to worry about the kid. Spencer hadn’t been a kid in a long time, and with each new trauma their babying of him became just another weight added to his shoulders. Another reason to prove himself.

It never worked.

Deciding it was time to go, time to run away again, Spencer dragged himself away from the beach and its false allure of peacefulness. He rolled up the blanket and put it back in its usual spot in the back of the jeep, put his coffee in the cupholder and he was off again.

Coming up the bend from the beach, he spotted a pothole one second too late. The back wheel slammed into it with a loud crunch, and before he knew it the back of the jeep collapsed into the sand-dusted street.

“Oh, goddamnit,” he grunted, punching the passenger seat in irritation.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, and sure enough he had zero reception. He groaned and let his head fall back on the headrest, his eyes shutting. Sucking in a deep breath, Spencer counted to five before letting it go.

“Yer axle’s cracked!” a voice came from the side, and when Spencer opened his eyes he spotted a beat up truck next to him on the road. It had cans dangling from the sides on old fishing line and other random trash piled up in the back, a boat hitched to the back of it.

An old grizzled man leaned heavily out the window, pointing at the back of the jeep and nodding, “Yep, y’ain’t goin’ nowhere, son.”

“Yeah,” Spencer snapped, furrowing his brows at him. “I noticed.”

“Ain’t no need to take a tone with me, boy,” the man grumbled. He pointed a gnarled finger at Spencer that shook in the air. “I’mma help you.”

Spencer didn’t have a lot of faith that his twisted tree limb of a man was going to be much help to him, so he waved his cell phone at him. “I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone so I can call a tow truck?”

The man frowned with an exaggerated bottom lip and shook his head animatedly, “I ain’t got one of them things! Ya think I want brain cancer or somethin’?”

“Uhm… no?” Spencer began, but he cut him off with a beckoning hand.

“No. I don’t,” the man nodded firmly. “C’mon, I’ll take ya up to Rose’s place.”

Spencer groaned internally at the name he’d heard this morning. It was the same squinting old man who told him the axle was about to crack in the first place. Then he brightened up at the thought of getting to see Honey and her tight tank top again.

“I ain’t got all day, son. I’m busy, y’see,” the man called, breaking through his thoughts. Spencer nodded to himself and turned off the jeep before getting out and snagging his suitcase from the back seat.

He rounded the truck only to open the creaky door and find almost an entire carton of cigarette packs littering the floorboards, along with a variety of loose tools and nails. Spencer climbed into the cab and closed the door behind him, setting the suitcase on his lap. It was a travel size, just big enough for a week’s worth of clothes and shoes. He kept his toiletries in another bag in the back of his car.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said softly. “Sorry for snapping. It’s been a bit of a day for me.”

The man chuckled, a little choked huffing sound from deep in his throat. “It’s been a bit of a day for everyone, son. It’s only nine in the mornin’!”

Deciding it was better to scoff in his mind and not at this weird stranger driving him through town, Spencer nodded. The brightly colored shops passed them by as the man drove at a snail’s pace, stopping for the allotted three seconds at each stop sign and never using his blinker.

“Name’s Nell, by the by,” the old man declared suddenly, jerking Spencer out of his reverie of the town. “Not that you asked. What’s yer story, son?”

“Uh, I’m Spencer,” he said slowly. Awkwardly. “I’m just traveling.”

“That’s a sheht story. No pizzazz, no flare. Ain’t you got stories where yer from?”

How do you like dead mutilated bodies? He wondered. Spencer laughed quietly and made sure to stare straight ahead. Nell’s eyes flicked quickly to his each time he looked over, and the truck veered with them.

“I’m not much of a storyteller, Nell.”

“Shame,” Nell muttered, his top lip twitching as he seemed to think very hard about that. “Puppy dog eyes like that, you could get a peach and a half to follow you home if you could string a good yarn.”

Spencer struggled to follow that metaphor, so he just gave a noncommittal hum. The thought of a man who looked like Nell referring to a woman as a ‘peach’ left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You ever been this way up before?"

"Nope. Just passing through on my way to Oregon."

"Ah, sheht," Nell grumbled. He slapped the steering wheel and pointed at nothing. "Oregon ain't got nothin' on Thundabird! I came here after 'Nam and never looked back!"

Spencer thanked God that Rossi didn't talk like this, not that fighting in Vietnam caused mushmouth, but he was getting irritated.

"Lotsa people round here just showed up. Never left. It's a town of strays, y’know? Might find somethin' purty and never wanna leave like I did."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, not really paying much attention. He gazed longingly out the window and decided he could have walked faster than Nell drove.

"Met my Bernie and never could leave. She’s purtier than a seagull at sunset, I swear it.”

“You have any kids?”

“Nah, she’s small. Not much more’n me can fit in there most of the time.”

Spencer made a face and turned to him, disgusted, “What?”

Nell leaned forward and rubbed a hand across the dash of his nasty truck, “She’s small, but she’s a beaut! All I ever needed.”

Thankfully, they finally made their way up to the diner. Delgado’s lay catty corner to it, right next to a small inn called The Thunderbird Inn. Spencer got the hell out of Bernie as fast as he could and waved a hand to Nell. “Thanks for the ride, Nell. It’s been a trip.”

“Anytime, son!” Nell chuckled manically, and it was all Spencer had not to grimace. He pulled out of the small driveway slower than molasses, almost hit a stop sign, then rumbled down the street.

Spencer took a steadying breath and shook his head before going into the mechanic's shop. A small reception area stood in the front, the smell of grease and exhaust puffing in from the door leading through the garage. There was a window in front of a desk where a small woman sat in a headscarf. She wore a brightly colored floral shirt, her braids piled high above her head as she gave him a small wave.

"How ya doing, baby?" she asked with an easy grin. The tension in Spencer's shoulders from talking to Nell eased in just one look at that smile. There was also something about an older black lady calling him ‘baby’ in a soft voice that made him feel better for some reason.

"Uhm, my car broke down," Spencer said, pointing behind him.

She nodded, "I'm Mattie May. Rose told me you might be making your way here."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Spencer snarked, rolling his eyes.

"Don't take it personal," Mattie May hushed. She stood and rounded the corner, then waved for him to follow. "Man's got a sixth sense about cars. In fact, I first met him when I broke down on the side of the road outside of town."

Spencer followed Mattie May behind the counter and into a small kitchen area. He eyeballed the fridge as she puttered around. Pictures of Rose, Mattie May, and Honey littered the front. Some had group photos with a few of the eclectic townsfolk he'd run into already, others with people he didn't know.

"He asked me to dinner before fixing my car. I fell head over heels and never looked back. Moved here a few months later." She pulled out a fresh pot of coffee and poured him some in a brightly colored mug with flowers on it, then one for herself. "You take sugar, baby?"

"Lots of it," he muttered, leaning down to look at more of the photographs. "This town's like the Bermuda triangle, huh?"

"For lost souls… yeah, I guess it is," she said softly. Her skin glimmered under the fluorescent lighting, dark and beautiful against the bright purples and pinks of her shirt and beaming smile. "You lost?"

Spencer stood up sharply, suddenly rocked with defensiveness. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "How long do you think the repairs will take?"

Mattie May clicked her teeth and sighed, then handed him the mug. "Rose will have to tell you that. If he doesn't have the parts you can stay at the inn. I'll have Honey make you up a room."

Spencer took a sip. It was fantastic, obviously from the same beans the diner used. "Is she your daughter? I saw her with Rose at the diner."

"We've definitely taken to her like she is. Another stray that showed up a while back and never wanted to leave."

"Do people who come here ever leave?" he snarked, flashing her a look.

"People land where they need to. Sometimes that's here."

"I'd like to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. No offense."

Mattie May smirked at him and leaned against the counter, "None taken."

"Axle cracked, huh?" a familiar deep voice came from behind them. Spencer looked to find Rose leaning over the front counter and watching him expectantly.

"Right in half."

"Hmmm," he grunted, nodding to himself. "I'll send out Rico."

"The man's got somewhere to be, Rose," Mattie May said, waving her cup at her husband. "How long will it take to repair?"

Rose pushed himself off the counter with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face as he ambled slowly into the small kitchen, then shrugged. "I don't have that model in stock as nobody in town drives it. Could take a month for the parts to come in."

"A month?" Spencer asked sharply. He set the cup down harder on the counter than he meant to, and it hit with a clatter. "I can't sit around here for a month."

“Or more.” Rose shrugged, "UPS only comes through here once a month by boat. It's too hard to get through the mountains."

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" Mattie May asked softly. She set a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze. "If you gotta be somewhere soon, I'm sure we can find you a ride."

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck roughly in irritation. "Nowhere. I just don't like sitting in one place too long."

"You some sorta drifter?" Rose asked, eyeing him with a hard glare. Spencer was sure he looked the part with his old flannel, messy hair, beard and battered boots, but he didn’t like the thought after his previous line of work.

Spencer glared right back, his jaw set tightly. Mattie May blew out a breath and gave him another squeeze before letting her hand fall from his shoulder. “It might do you good to sit still for a while, then. C’mon, baby, I’ll take you over to Honey and we’ll get you a room.”

Mattie May steered him around Rose and out the front door. A loud boom! Made him jerk away from her and flinch from the sound. A few errant pop pop pops followed, and when he heard her soft laughter he looked up to see kids lighting fireworks in the street.

His vision dragged, his blood pounded in his ears as he tried to convince himself he was fine. He wasn’t being blown up, and he wasn’t at Everett Lynch’s home. Mattie May’s voice ripped him sharply to the present as she called to them.

“Y’all go somewhere else and do that! People are tryin’ to work!”

Their shoulders deflated and they nodded, “Yes, Mrs. Delgado!”

She shook her head and chuckled, turning back to Spencer. He stared at the charred spot on the pavement where the firecrackers had erupted, chest heaving as the acrid scent of burnt embers flooded his nose.

“You okay, baby?”

Spencer found himself turning toward her kind voice, his eyes wet and suddenly more tired than he’d been in months. “Yeah. I’m… I’m not a big fan of the fourth of July.”

“The firecrackers?” she asked. He nodded. “Did you serve?”

“Uh, no ma’am.” He didn’t want to tell her anything about the FBI. Since leaving, Spencer hadn’t told anyone that he used to be an agent. What he’d become was too shameful.

“Holly Henson isn’t much for it either since he came back from Iraq, neither is Rose. I bought them some noise canceling headphones for this time of year. I have an extra pair.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

She led him into the front of The Thunderbird Inn, where Honey sat behind the reception desk with a young man Spencer hadn't met yet. He was tall and about her age, near thirty, leaning over the counter and smirking at her. His easy going grin and good looks reminded him of Luke, as did his dark closely cropped hair.

"I'm serious, Honey. It'll be fun."

Honey lounged in a roller chair and crossed her hands behind her head, "I'm not going to the bar on the fourth. I'll end up having Lionel and Ritchie pawing all over me and looking down my shirt."

The man peeked a little further over and grinned, "I'd tell you to wear a different shirt, but I can't exactly blame them for trying to sneak a peek."

Honey sat up sharply and slapped at him, and he jumped back with a mad laugh. She looked over his shoulder and her eyes brightened as she saw Spencer. "Axle cracked, huh, big tipper?"

Spencer squinted at her and nodded. Mattie May laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, "He needs a room for the night, Honey. Rico, Rose is lookin' for you. You gotta go tow this young man's car."

She turned to him, "I never caught your name."

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Rico eyed him the way Rose and every other person in this town seemed to, "Your axle cracked?"

Spencer sighed in pure exasperation. “Yes.”

Rico glanced back at Honey, who shrugged and made a face. He made his way toward the door, watching Spencer. His shoulder bumped Spencer's as he passed and then he was gone, Mattie May following closely behind.

"I got Room 4 open, Mr. Reid," Honey said playfully as Spencer glared out the door where Rico went. He looked up to see her dangling an ancient key attached to a little green tag with the inn name on it. "Follow me."

Spencer followed her and her tight jeans down a hallway to the left. The inn was a big square, two levels, with only a handful of rooms on the first floor. Honey took him to the center where the rooms met in the middle of the curved hallway. A door across from his had a sign on it that read Management on the front in faded gilded lettering and a doorbell on the side.

"Dinner’s at six. I'll bring you a plate," she said absentmindedly as she fiddled with the door. She clasped the handle and tugged up as she turned the lock. "Door sticks, and there's a patio out back where we usually have a bonfire this time of year. If it's too loud, let me know."

The door opened with a crack, and she pushed it open for him to step inside. The room was small and airy, wide broad windows that had a view of the far off ocean and palm trees. Spencer spotted boats and people in the water as he stepped up to them to look out. The tulle cottony curtains swayed with the breeze through the cracked door, and without much thought Spencer shut and locked it.

The bedspread was a bright sky blue with matching pillows. The walls were painted off-white, with pictures of the beach and the town plastered all over, much like Mattie May’s fridge and the reception areas of both businesses. Spencer dug into his pocket as he looked around with hardly disguised disdain and pulled out his wallet. He handed his credit card to Honey, but she just stared at him.

“Don’t you need this?”

“First night’s on Lionel. He was supposed to fix that pothole weeks ago.”

Spencer squinted at her, “How do you know I hit a pothole?”

She smiled, wide and bright. “Saw you drive toward the beach. Townspeople know to avoid it.”

“Good to know,” he grumbled, stuffing his card back into his wallet. “Is there a phone I can use?”

“Mmm, most people here don’t have cell phones. Providers don’t get great service around here, but there’s a landline on the nightstand.”

Spencer nodded, looking to where she pointed. “Internet?”

Honey laughed, but when she saw him watching her sternly she stopped. “Oh, you’re serious. There’s Collie’s Cafe down the street. It’s dial-up but it’ll get you what you need for a dime every ten minutes.”

“God this place really is the Bermuda Triangle,” he groaned, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. “Does everyone have a weird name here?”

Honey put her hands on her hips and made a face, “Who’s got a weird name?”

Spencer just glared.

Honey broke out into a creeping slow smile and nodded to herself. “You’re not a lot of fun, are you, Mr. Reid?”

“You can call me Spencer.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. She tapped her jaw and watched him, “This is a nickname kinda town. You stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

“I hope to God that doesn’t happen,” he said irritably. “If Honey’s not your real name, do you mind if I ask what it is?” “Y/N,” she replied with a grin. “Call me that and we’ll have a problem.”

“I don’t want any problems, Honey,” Spencer snarked back. “I just want to leave Margaritaville and go to Oregon.”

Honey bit her lip and smiled before turning on her heel and walking toward the door. She lingered for a moment with her hand on the knob, obviously chewing on something in her mind. Sucking in a breath, she glanced his way once more and said in a soft voice, “Maybe your problem is that you can’t enjoy where you’re at, Spencer. Maybe you should take a breather.”

Before he could angrily reply, she closed the door behind her. It didn’t fit in the frame well, and he heard her little grunt as she pulled up on the knob to latch it shut. Shaking his head and letting out a pained breath, Spencer hoisted his suitcase up and tossed it on the bed, grateful to be alone again. He plopped down next to it, elbows on his knees as he looked around, and that question popped into his head again.

Is this who I am now?

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: PLEASE tell me what you think... this series is so close to my heart. What do you think of the townspeople we've met so far? Reader/Honey? Sad!Spencer??

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