#sorry if i forgot to add you to the taglist i'm new at this

[gretagerwigsmuse]

'cause you care, and i swear that i'm here, but i'm there it's gettin' harder to hunt me down (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Summary: In hindsight, your crush on Bradley started innocently enough - he came into the bar one evening and you thought he was cute. Well, more than cute, but it all had to start somewhere...

OR Y/N and Bradley over the course of many, many weekends at the Hard Deck

Author’s Note: enjoy part 2! thanks to everyone for all the support on this, it’s been so fun to write for a super active fandom. i also posted this on ao3 if you’d like to read it all at once. let me know if you like it!

[Part 1]

-------

one and a half weeks ago

You spent the next week thinking about texting him, wanting to text him, wanting to talk to him. But it never seemed like the right time. 

Plus, Bradley was probably - and justifiably - busy. He didn’t need you bugging him. He was assigned to that mission you kept hearing whispers about and Penny told you that two of his friends, Natasha and Bob, were in an accident earlier that week. And then Admiral Kazansky passed away on Thursday.

So, it had definitely been a busy week for Bradley, to say nothing of how busy you had been at work. You were sitting in on so many depositions you thought your head was going to explode, in addition to all the briefs you were helping the ADAs write. Your head had been swimming in legalese for days and you actually relished what was sure to be a busy Saturday shift after an already chaotic Friday one. 

Penny had mentioned to you on Friday that there was going to be an informal reception at the Hard Deck after Admiral Kazansky’s funeral on Saturday, so she would need everyone at work a little earlier to help out. 

You, Jimmy, and Maddie were all at work getting the bar ready when Penny showed up around three o’clock to say that the reception was winding down at the Kazanskys’ and that everyone would be at the Hard Deck within the next hour or so. 

Despite everything going on, you did hope to see Bradley there and at least talk to him a little bit, ask how he was doing, see if he really meant to give you his number last week. Maybe see if he wanted to hang out, just the two of you, once his mission was over? A girl could dream after all -

“- Well aren’t you just a pretty little picture?” 

You rolled your eyes upon hearing Jake’s voice, but still turned around to face him. He looked sharp in his dress blues - and he knew it. “What can I get you?”

“I’d say you, but we are all supposed to be in mourning, so I’ll just take a beer for now.”

You leaned over to get a Budweiser out of the cooler and slid it over to him. “I’ll put it on your tab -”

“- But first you gotta tell me what’s up with the sundress?” He jutted his chin out towards you. “And not that I don’t love the normal jeans and t-shirt look on you, but this is something else, darlin.’”

The unexpected compliment, even coming from Jake of all people, coupled with his southern drawl, caused you to blush. The sundress wasn’t anything that would be considered garish or in poor taste in light of the circumstances that day, but you did feel pretty in it. 

“I wanted to wear something a little nicer because of the funeral, is that so wrong?” 

“Ain’t nothing wrong about you, honey.”

Jake took a long sip of his beer, staring you down the entire time. You knew he never would actually do anything about it, but you always got so embarrassed whenever he flirted with you. You didn’t like the attention it brought - you liked when guys were more intentional, more reserved in regards to their actions towards you.

“What is it with men and sundresses?” you said under your breath, not expecting a response.

“Ehhh,” he shrugged, “probably the fact that most of them are see thru…”

You glanced down at your dress and then back up at Jake, who was smirking. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re fine,” he waved his hand, “and not for lack of trying - or should I say looking - on my part…”

Your expression remained unimpressed and you were contemplating asking if he wanted to close his tab to get him out of your hair; meanwhile, Jake’s eyes roved around the bar and lit up when they seemingly landed on whoever he was looking for. 

“You don’t believe me, fine, let’s get a second opinion on the appeal of sundresses, not limited, of course, to if they’re see thru or not - oh, this’ll be good - Bradshaw!” 

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t asking Bradley to come over? God, it would be less mortifying if he asked Captain Mitchell. Because Jake couldn’t know? Could he? 

Granted, Jake was a pain in the ass, but he was way more perceptive than anyone ever gave him credit. And he was also the textbook definition of a gossip.

“Bet you’d just love to hear ol’ Rooster croon about -” 

“- Don’t you dare -”

You crossed your arms across your chest and glared at Jake, not taking your eyes off him as you slowly moved over towards The Bell. The opportunity had never arisen for you to ring The Bell before, but you’d always wanted to do it. And to have it be because of something Jake said? Well, that was just a bonus. 

Before you could put your hands around the rope, Bradley sauntered over and stood beside Jake. “What do you want, Bagman - hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Bradley,” you said with a smile, ignoring the fake gagging expression Jake was making behind Bradley’s back. “Can I get you a refill?”

He ducked his head and smiled. “Nah, I’m good for now. Maybe in a little while though - so, what do you want, Hangman?” his tone changed immediately and you held back a laugh at the abrupt one-eighty. 

“Well, Y/N and I were -”

You kept sneaking glances at Bradley while Jake was talking. God, he was even more handsome up close and seemed so confident and self assured in his uniform. He looked way too distinguished in his dress blues and you were slightly thankful he had left his hat back at his table. Maybe he’d let you try it on later if - woah there. No. There would be no later. 

Lieutenant Bradshaw was not going to take you for a ride while wearing that stupidly attractive hat and uniform of his. He was not going to pull you close to him in some darkened hallway and whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear about how he wanted to fuck you in the cockpit of his plane -

“- Y/N?” You startled, turning to face Jake and Bradley, the former of whom had interrupted your daydream. “Was just asking Rooster here why he thinks you’re looking so dolled up for us tonight?”

Bradley shoved Jake. “And I was just telling Bagman it was probably because of the funeral.”

“Exactly - see, he gets it!”

Jake smirked. “Oh, I’m sure he gets it. He gets it plenty - say, thoughts on sundresses, Bradshaw?”

“Fuck off,” Bradley grumbled and then tossed you a quick smile. “She’d be well within her rights to ring The Bell on you.”

You nodded and took a step over towards The Bell again. ���Bell hasn’t been rung all night…bet this crowd would love a free round after the long day they’ve had…”

Bradley put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the backs of his feet, eagerly watching the scene unfold. Meanwhile, Jake just scowled. 

“Minx. Well, on that note, I’ve got to beat Fanboy and Bob in a game of pool. So, I will see you around, my dear.” 

As he disappeared over Bradley’s shoulder he mouthed the words you’re welcome and you fought the urge to flip him off. 

“Sorry about him, we really shouldn’t let him off base.” 

You laughed. “Ehh I've dealt with worse at Stanford. He’s mostly harmless, all bark no bite - at least where I’m concerned.”

That caught his interest and he leaned forward on the bar. You briefly glanced down at all the different medals and ribbons on his jacket and saw him doing the same thing with your sundress. 

“What uhh - what do you mean?”

“I don’t know - I guess he just kind of haggles me or flirts with me, but it’s not like he means anything by it? So, I don’t really mind.”

Bradley frowned. “How do you know he doesn’t mean anything by it?”

“It’s Jake,” you said like that was enough. But it apparently hadn’t been because Bradley was still looking at you intently. You blushed. “I don’t know, he teases me about being a lawyer and all the pantsuits I’ll have to wear - which is ironic coming from a guy who wears a uniform everyday.” At this Bradley conceded a nod. “But like he doesn’t actually want to date me or sleep with me? I think it’s just second nature for him? Like that’s just how he talks?”

“Maybe…”

Someone a couple seats down from Bradley requested a couple waters and you quickly got them settled before turning back to him. “And then the whole sundress thing…”

“What about it?”

You were suddenly nervous, anxious even. “He called you over to get your opinion -”

“- Yeah, on why you were so dressed up -”

You groaned. “- Oh my god, you’re literally wearing a suit and have medals on your chest! I’m not the one who’s dressed up here, it’s a sundress for fuck’s sake. If you think this is dressed up, you should see what I wear to work!”

Bradley held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. You aren’t dressed up, you’re in very normal attire for working behind a bar.”

“Thank you,” you settled down, but then remembered you hadn’t finished what you were saying earlier and cursed yourself for bringing up the topic in the first place. “He called you over to get your opinion on if my dress was see thru or not -”

“- He what?” 

Ironically, the first rumble of thunder filled the Hard Deck at Bradley’s words and you almost smiled. 

“He said that was the appeal for sundresses for guys and wanted to know if you agreed,” you mumbled. 

“Why would it matter what I - not that I’d look for that in the first place - because I wouldn’t, I mean -”

You cut him off, saving you both the embarrassment. 

“- He knows we’re friends - friendly, I mean. He knows we’re friendly and he was just trying to mess with me.” 

The more you explained it, the dumber it sounded. God, you’d kill for a distraction. Why was no one else up at the bar getting drinks? But Bradley just nodded - once - and leaned back. 

“Right.”

Another rumble of thunder sounded, this time followed by some lightning. You could hear the rain pounding on the roof of the Hard Deck and dreaded going out into the storm. There was no way you were going to bike home to your bungalow in the monsoon outside and contemplated calling an Uber, surge pricing be damned. You quickly pulled your phone out from under the bar to check the weather. The storm wasn’t going to stop until three and it was only just after ten thirty. 

“You okay?” Bradley asked. 

You nodded and put your phone back. “Yeah, just looking at the weather. Storm’s not gonna stop for awhile, kind of snuck up on me. I biked here.”

“You biked here?” For added measure, a particularly strong gust of wind howled outside. 

“Well, there wasn’t any rain in the forecast when I looked this morning,” you quipped, “I don’t live too far away, so yes I normally bike here.”

“I can give you a ride home - I mean, if you want?” he said after a moment. 

You glanced around the relatively deserted bar. It was slow for a Saturday night after the majority of the funeral guests had left and you had no doubt Bradley would be bored out of his mind waiting around until your shift ended. It looked like his friends were getting ready to leave soon anyway. 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to make you wait around for me. You’re sweet for offering, though.”

“Offering what?” Penny came up behind you with a crate of clean glasses. 

While Bradley said hello to her, you took the crate from her hands and set it on the bar top to empty. “Uhh Bradley offered to give me a ride home, but I said he didn’t have to wait around for me.”

Penny shrugged. “You can head out early if you want? As long as you get those glasses put away, you’re all set.” She winked at Bradley and you pretended not to notice.

“Great, thanks - guess I’m all yours then.”

“Guess so…”

With Penny’s blessing, the two of you dashed across the parking lot towards Bradley’s Bronco some ten minutes later. Once he saw to it that you were all settled in the car, he ran back over to get your bike and then put it in the trunk. By the time he got in the car, he was completely soaked - from his fancy white hat all the way down to his shiny black shoes. The car roared to life beneath you both and the radio played softly in the background. 

“All set?” he asked and you nodded. “So, where am I headed?” 

“Uhh just take a right out of here and head down the street for about a mile or so.”

“Sounds good.” He pulled out of the parking lot and set off down Orange Ave and past the Hotel del Coronado. The streets were deserted, everyone seemingly put off by the rain and the late hour. Bradley drove with more care than you had originally figured, but that could have been due to the rain. Silence stretched between the two of you, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, easy. 

“Thanks again for the ride, Bradley.”

He shrugged. “S’no big - hey, you know you can call me Rooster, right? You don’t have to call me Bradley all the time.”

It felt weird to use any of the teams’ call signs, like you didn’t have the right to do so.

“I only know you as Bradley, would be kind of odd to call you anything else, I guess.” You frowned suddenly. “Do you not want me to call you Bradley -”

“- No, no. I mean, I like it. Ever since I joined the Navy, it’s pretty much been Rooster or Bradshaw. No one consistently calls me Bradley anymore.”

“Hmmm, Lieutenant Bradley Rooster Bradshaw definitely is a mouthful.” 

He laughed. “Might be a bit hard to fit on my drivers license.”

“What if I call you Brad?” It sounded weird coming out of your mouth and you laughed at the expression on his face. “Yeah, I didn’t like that either - oh, take a right here and it’s the second house on the left.”

Bradley turned onto G Avenue and, though it was dark and raining heavily, the Mentors had left the porch and driveway lights on, which still illuminated the entire house.

“Holy shit, Y/N.” Bradley let out a low whistle as the Bronco rolled to a stop in front of the Cape Cod inspired, cedar shingle bungalow. 

Well, maybe bungalow wasn’t the right word for the main house, but it did sum up the guest house you were staying in on the property. You couldn’t see the ocean from your bedroom in the little bungalow out back, but the beach was still only a couple hundred feet away. It was lovely, really - completely renovated, had a full kitchen and dining room, was totally private, was a quick drive to your office and bike ride to the Hard Deck, and Mrs. Mentor - your mom’s closest friend from childhood - even let you pick out the linens in the bedroom. It was perfect. And you were going to be sad to say goodbye to it when you went back up to Stanford in the fall. 

Bradley was still looking at it in awe and you chuckled. “Okay, to be frank, it’s not my house. It’s my parents’ friend’s house and I’m just staying here for the summer - plus, I’m in the guest house out back.”

He leaned over the steering wheel to peek at the house in front of you both and shifted the car into park. “Oh, the guest house, excuse me. I was gonna say, here I am telling everyone to tip you 25%, meanwhile you’re practically living on millionaire row in Coronado…”

You had noticed your tips had increased over the past couple weeks and were faintly mortified that Bradley had told people to do that. But at least it would explain some of their knowing looks lately. 

“Oh, shut up.” You elbowed him in the stomach and he exaggerated a groan. “Tell them to stop doing that, too, it’s not necessary. If they feel the need to do it for anyone, let it be Maddie and Jimmy - I’m serious,” you added when Bradley just smiled.

“Then why do you do it - bartend?” He cut the engine and it was just the two of you and the pitter patter of rain on the roof.

“Well, I used to be a waitress and thought it might be fun to change things up.”

Bradley shook you a look. “You know what I mean…”

You shrugged. “I was fine getting my own place for the summer - contrary to my father’s beliefs, the DA’s office does pay me - but my parents swung this for me instead and I felt kind of…spoiled, I guess? Like I’ve lived a really privileged life and I guess I just want to contribute in some way? I’m not saying I’ll be able to pay my parents back for some seventeen odd years of private school on top of college and law school amongst other things, but I’d like to start somewhere? And until I really make good money, the Hard Deck it is.

“Plus, it gets me out of the house and stuff - out with people and everything. I don’t know too many people around here and there’s always someone new coming into the bar and it’s never boring, so…”

Bradley nodded, considering this, and you. “I think we’ve got a leg up on the lawyers there.”

“Possibly…”

He just shook his head fondly. “Alright, counselor, I think there’s an umbrella in the back seat if you want to use it? I’ll get your bike.” The door creaked open and he jogged to the truck bed, while you fished around for a massive golf umbrella in the back seat.

You mentally prepared yourself to brave the rains and got out of the car. But instead of heading to your front door, you went around to the back of the car, where Bradley had just gotten your bike out. You held the umbrella over his head.

“You can go in,” he said over the rain, “I’ll be right behind you.”

You shook your head and shifted the umbrella again so it was completely covering him. “I’m already soaked - and that uniform looks important.”

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “Fine, but I’m pretty sure we can both fit under here. As long as you’re okay with your ten-speed being the casualty?”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I think I can live with that.”

The two of you dodged some puddles on the driveway and made your way up a short set of stairs to your front porch. There was barely enough room for the two of you on the landing, to say nothing of the bike Bradley was half carrying, half leaning against the porch railing, so you were practically on top of each other under the umbrella. Despite being soaked through, you could still feel the heat pouring off his body. You’d never been this close to each other before - you could faintly smell his cologne and felt the hard planes of his chest against your back as you shakily unlocked the door. You could blame that on being cold from the rain. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Once you got through the threshold, you flicked on the lights and your little bungalow lit up before you both. Practically everything was white - the walls, the linen couches, the curtains, the marble countertop, the kitchen cabinets, but oddly that made it easier to clean - at least that was what Mrs. Mentor had said. There were subtle pops of color in the throw pillows and rugs, in addition to the artwork lining the walls. Plus, everything looked great against the herringbone hardwood floors. It was definitely to your taste, but you wished the assorted knick knacks and decor doting the space had been yours and not something Mrs. Mentor picked out at Serena and Lily.

“Okay, now this is exactly how I imagined your place would look.”

You scrunched your nose. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or -”

“- Oh without question, Miss Hospital Corners. I’ve seen you clean the bar, you’re freakishly neat. Jimmy and Maddie don’t put nearly as much effort into it. I like it though.”

“Har har,” you rolled your eyes, “make sure you take your shoes off, but you can put the bike in the storage closet over there?”

“The bike goes in the storage closet? Jesus, this place is fucking nice,” he muttered and then set off towards the storage closet near the back of the bungalow.

While he was gone, you gave the living room and kitchen a quick once over, looking for anything out of place - read embarrassing - but found nothing. You turned on some additional lights and headed over towards the kitchen. 

“You want some water or anything?” 

“Sure,” he shouted back. You could hear his footsteps getting closer to the kitchen as you fished around in the refrigerator.

You didn’t turn around as you asked: “Still or sparkling?” 

He let out an exaggerated groan and you finally turned around to see him taking off his suit jacket so he was just in his white dress shirt. “No mineral water? Come on, Y/N, you’re slacking here.”

“Oh, please forgive me for my egregious error, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I won’t let it happen again,” you said, laying it on thick. 

You were both standing there, smiling at each other like idiots and the kitchen suddenly felt too small. Bradley took one step towards you, then another, causing your arm to brush against the cool stainless steel refrigerator as you leaned back. You peered up at him and he opened his mouth to speak, but something out of the corner of your eye in the fridge caught your attention.

“- Oh, there’s a - it looks like there’s an extra Topo Chico back here - so, mineral and sparkling water.” You held the bottle between the two of you and practically thrust it into Bradley’s chest.

His eyes flitted between your face and the bottle, before settling back on you. A slow smile crept across his face. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t really know what mineral water tastes like.”

“And here I thought you were a man of refined taste?” He shrugged and then took a sip. “Initial thoughts?”

“It’s fizzy,” he stated the obvious, “and also a little salty? But it’s good, thanks.”

You smiled, pleased and then fished around in the fridge for another bottle for yourself. When you closed the refrigerator door, your hand brushed against your dress, reminding you of how wet you still were. You hazarded a quick glance over at Bradley, noting the way his wet shirt was practically plastered to his body. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt. You swallowed. 

“I can put your clothes in the dryer if you’d like?” He raised his eyebrows. “I mean, maybe not your jacket, but the rest of it? Like your shirt and pants and stuff because I feel like that jacket’s something that needs to be dry cleaned and like I wouldn’t even know where to start with putting the medals and pins back on -”

“- That would be nice, thanks.” 

“Okay,” you squeaked. “I’ll probably do the same. In fact, I’ll just wash everything too, the machine’s really quick.

“The laundry’s just over here.” You thumbed over your shoulder and he followed you. “Wait! You don’t have any clothes to change into uhh - I have a couple sweatshirts that might fit you, if that works? You’re out of luck with the pants, though. You’re like almost a foot taller than me, but I can try -” 

Before you could ramble any further, you dashed off to your bedroom, hunting through your closet for your baggiest sweatshirt. The worn, grey Pebble Beach crewneck was slightly big on you, so you hoped it would fit Bradley. For good measure, you also grabbed a pair of sweatpants you’d had for years. They probably wouldn’t fit him, but it was worth a try. Finally, you changed out of your own sundress and into a pair of cashmere pajama shorts and an oversized oxford before you headed back down the hallway. 

“I found one, hope it fits…” you trailed off, any further words you had been about to say were lost to the ether at the sight of Lieutenant Bradshaw standing in his uniform pants and his uniform pants only in your hallway. 

“Oh, uhh thanks,” he ducked his head, “figured I’d save you some time, but should’ve warned you -”

“- It’s fine - you’re fine.” He was more than fine, really. Very fine. And tan. So tan.

He took the sweatshirt from your hands and slipped it on. Shockingly, it did fit him, but probably wouldn’t be the size he would’ve bought had the sweatshirt been new. “I uhh got you some sweatpants, too. So, I’ll just let you change. The bathroom’s down the hall if that works better than doing it in the hallway - changing in the hallway, I mean.”

Bradley blinked slowly, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He seemed just as embarrassed as you were. “Right, thanks. I’ll just - yeah.”

While he was gone, you threw in a quick load of laundry, figuring he could throw his pants in himself. Normally, you wouldn’t mix the whites and the darks, but time was of the essence here and you wanted to get everything cleaned. Bradley probably didn’t want to hang out in your living room all night. 

By the time he came back, you had started the laundry and were sitting in front of the TV, watching the SNL cold open. 

“How do I look?” He did a little spin, showing off the too short sweatpants and too tight sweatshirt. 

You laughed. “You’ve never looked better. Here, have a seat.” 

He sat down on the couch close, but not too close to you and you both relaxed as you watched the opening monologue and the first couple sketches. Like in the car, the silence wasn’t awkward between the two of you - it was easy. You both sipped your drinks, occasionally glanced at your phones, laughed at the sketches, and eventually you got up to put both your clothes in the dryer. Neither of you were terribly fond of the musical guest, so you started chatting again, gradually getting into deeper conversation topics.  

“So, what do you do next - in the Navy?” you clarified, “After this assignment is over and everything?”

Bradley considered this. “Probably just go back to China Lake.”

“That’s near Death Valley, right?” 

“Hmmm, it’s about halfway between Death Valley and Sequoia.”

“And do you like it out there?”  

He thought for a moment before replying. “No one’s ever really asked me that.”

“But do you?” From what you knew about that part of the state, it was very remote. Though you’d only known Bradley for a couple weeks, you didn’t really see him in a place like that. 

“I don’t know? It’s fine, I guess? I have my own house, which is nice, but - I don’t know. It’s quiet and sometimes that’s nice. But sometimes...”

“It’s not. No, I get it.” 

“Plus, it’s not really a - never mind.”

You shot him a look. “What? Trust me, I have no allegiance to China Lake, my feelings won’t be bruised if you were about to say something shitty about it.”

He made a face and then flopped back on the couch. “It’s gonna sound stupid, considering I don’t even - well, it’s not exactly where I’d want to have a family or make a life with someone, really. And I know that’s dumb to say since I don’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a family, but yeah. I don’t see myself making a life there.”

“Is there any place you’d like to go instead? I know you guys don’t exactly get to pick, but like, best case scenario, where would you go?”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll get a promotion if I get picked for this assignment and it goes well?”

“But where, Bradley? Humor me.” 

You didn’t know why it was so important for you to find this information out. It wasn’t like you’d see him again after he was done with his assignment at North Island. He would go back to China Lake and you would go back to Stanford until graduation and then hopefully to San Diego. So, why? Why did you want to know everything about this man?

“You planning out my life for me, Y/N?”

“I’m a big planner.”

“Oh, really? I never would’ve guessed. You seem like the type to index your tupperware containers.” You rolled your eyes at his teasing. “What do you see down the line for me then?”

You twisted your mouth in thought. “Well, first things first, you have to come back from this mission safe and sound, think you can handle that?”

Bradley sat up on the couch suddenly and mirrored your position, sitting criss-cross applesauce, and looked at you solemnly. “I’ll try my hardest.”

“Good, that’s good,” you stammered, caught off guard by his earnestness. “So, uhh you get back here safely and then get a promotion to become - shit, I don’t know what comes after Lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant Commander.”

You scrunched your nose. “Really?”

“Followed by Commander -”

“- How original -” yon quipped. 

“- Then Captain -”

“- Oooo Captain Bradshaw has a nice ring to it. I like that better.” He laughed. “Alright, so now you’re a Captain and get to pick wherever you want to be located and you’re thinking you want somewhere with a beach because your dear friend Y/N said the salt air is good for your health, so you pick Hawaii -”

“- There isn’t a naval air base in Hawaii -”

“- You’re kidding?” That goddamn Ben Affleck Pearl Harbor movie had you all turned around. 

Bradley shook his head. “Nope, just a regular old naval base and I don’t really know how to sail, so that’s out.”

“Aren’t you in the Navy?”

“I land on the boats, sweetheart, I don’t sail them.” 

Your cheeks grew hot once the pet name slipped out, seemingly by accident. “Well, why don’t we skip that part for now and focus on the girl.”

“What girl?”

“The girl you’re going to find and want to make a life with,” you teased, leaning into the bit. 

But Bradley wasn’t laughing. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, Lieutenant,” you teased, “I’ve seen you at the Hard Deck. You keep playing that piano, I know you could definitely have your pick. How old are you?”

“Thirty five.” You hadn’t thought he was that much older than you. The other pilots were in their late twenties. “And what about you?”

“I’ll be twenty seven in a couple weeks.”

Bradley cocked his head. “Awwww, Y/N, you’re almost a real grown up.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. You wanted to pivot the conversation to something else - something more neutral - when your eyes landed on Bradley’s fancy white hat that was still on the kitchen island. “Can I wear your hat?”

“So much for being a real grown up…”

“Please? It looked very jaunty.”

“Jaunty?” You nodded, a huge smile on your face. 

“It’s the perfect word! Or maybe dapper?” 

He considered this for a moment. “I like dapper better, actually. Why do you want to wear my hat so badly?”

“Is that not kosher?” You scrunched your nose. “Like since I’m not in the Navy, I can’t wear it?”

Bradley sighed and tried to look serious as he thought over your request. “You’re lucky I brought it in here with me…” 

He got up from his spot on the couch and crossed over to the kitchen where he had left his hat and other personal belongings. With much pomp and ceremony, he dusted off the hat and held it out for you to take. It was slightly too large for your head and the brim slipped down your forehead to the bridge of your nose. Bradley chuckled softly and leaned down to fix it and suddenly it felt about ten degrees hotter in the living room. 

“You happy now?” he whispered. 

You matched his tone. “Very.” 

He sat back on the couch again, but this time closer so that your thighs were almost touching. His hair had dried and it was fluffier than you had ever seen it and you were dying to run your hands through it. He’d probably let out a little moan before pulling you into his lap. 

You’d slide your hands up his chest before eventually clasping them behind his neck and would slowly bridge the gap between the two of you. You’d kiss him passionately, eagerly, while he’d be hesitant at first and then respond with a fervor. His hands would grip your hips, grinding you down against him, and he’d let out a moan as you divert your attention from his lips to his neck. You’d mark him so everyone would know he was yours when he showed up for inspection -

“- Why’d you never text me?” he asked suddenly. 

You shifted on the couch, rubbing your thighs together slightly, and then took the hat off. You couldn’t believe you’d let yourself get lost in your daydream, especially with him sitting right next to you. 

“Oh uhh, I guess I didn’t want to bother you? I know you have that mission coming up and didn’t want to distract you or anything. It sounds important.”

Bradley conceded a nod. “Yeah, but you can still text me. I might not reply right away, but -” You leaned over to grab your phone off the coffee table. “- What’re you doing?”

You tapped out a couple words and a moment later felt Bradley’s phone vibrate on the sofa. “Texting you.”

“I see you had my number saved already…”

“I may have…” You’d done so before you even left the Hard Deck that night - as Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “And now you can text me and bother me at work.”

Bradley sighed. “Probably won’t be able to, too much next week. Might be out of town for a bit.”

“Oh - oh.” You read between the lines. “You’ll text me when you get back though, right? Like just to check in?”

He reached across the couch to grab your hand. “Yeah, of course, Y/N.”

You squeezed his hand back and both smiled, though it didn’t quite reach either of your eyes. The mission was coming up, meaning that not only was Bradley off to some unknown region of the world to do some unknown, though probably heroic and terribly dangerous act, but that he would also probably be leaving town shortly after. Your window of opportunity was narrowing and you didn’t know what was worse:

Not being able to tell him how you felt. 

Or telling him only to hear your feelings were unrequited. 

---------

half a week ago

A week later saw the Top Gun Twelve celebrating a successful mission at the Hard Deck. It served a dual purpose - obviously toasting to the mission, while also giving everyone who was heading back to their home base a proper send off. 

Jake was giving a surprisingly emotional and rousing speech to all the aviators and mission support staff in attendance that night. It was filled with plenty of 

teasing remarks, but also had a sweetness to it that you knew some of the others wouldn’t have expected. But that was Jake - all bark, no bite. Underneath it all, he was just a big softie. 

You were half listening as you emptied the dishwasher behind the bar, trying to get all the champagne glasses ready for the toast. You also kept sneaking peeks at Bradley, who was standing towards the back of the group, a smile on his face. He looked lighter, clearly happy the stress of the mission had abated and he even came over to talk with you earlier. 

“So, I kept my word, you know?”

“Oh?” You leaned your elbows on the bar, a coy smile on your face. 

“Uh huh, not only did I come back safe and sound, as promised, but I also texted you…”

“So, you did, Lieutenant.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “It’s actually Lieutenant Commander now.”

“Oh, my apologies Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw,” you laid it on thick.

“Apology accepted. But see, I think all this entitles me to a reward of some sort.”

“I’m sure the Navy has you well taken care of.”

He leaned across the bar to whisper in your ear. “What if I don’t want it to be from the Navy, sweetheart?”

Your body prickled with desire and your breath hitched. This was new territory for the two of you. Even last weekend, the closest you had gotten was briefly holding hands. Granted, you talked about just about everything under the sun, but this - the unspoken sexual tension between the two of you - was still relatively new. And you desperately wanted to explore it - now. You just hoped Bradley did, too.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you had just grabbed the last champagne glass out of the dishwasher and took a couple steps over to the counter where you’d placed the other ones, when you lost your footing. Your high tops slid over a stray ice cube and you tripped, quickly losing your balance and dropping the glass on the floor with a resounding crash. 

You landed with a thud and a groan. “Shitttt, owww.” 

You lifted your hand up to rub your elbow when you noticed a huge piece of glass sticking out of it. Blood quickly started oozing out of the wound and you found yourself getting light headed at the sight. 

“Oh, fuck...”

There was a slight commotion on the other side of the bar and before you could even blink Bradley was leaning over the counter. “Shit, Y/N are you okay?”

Your eyes clouded with tears, totally overwhelmed by the situation and Bradley quickly hopped over the bar top and crouched down next to you. 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, sweetheart.” He gently grabbed your hand and started looking over your injury. “I got you.”

The blood continued pouring out of the wound and you moved to take out the glass, but Bradley stopped you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a couple people swarming around the bar top, but only Bradley sat beside you. 

“No, don’t take it out yet. We don’t know how deep it is.” He grabbed a stray rag from underneath the bar and started dabbing at your cut.

You took a deep breath, trying not to freak out. You really hated blood and the sooner you got the glass out, the sooner you could wrap up the cut. “I don’t care, just take it out.”

Penny dashed over with the first aid kit. “Here, honey,” she said to Bradley, handing him a plethora of gauze and band aids. It was clear none of them really knew what to do beyond how to wrap up the wound or tie a tourniquet. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

“Do you think I need stitches?” The thought made you queasy and you knew before Bradley even spoke that a trip to urgent care was in your future.

“Might be a good idea, this looks pretty deep - can I get some water, Penny?”

She quickly poured some water from the tap and brought it over to Bradley. He dabbed a clean cloth with it before wrapping it around your hand again. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m gonna wrap this and then we’re gonna see my friend, sound good?”

Penny looked at Bradley questioningly once the term of endearment slipped past his lips, but other than that, made no comment. 

“Is friend code for something? I’ve seen Goodfellas, I know how this usually works.”

Both Bradley and Penny laughed. “At least we know she’s not in shock,” Penny said.

The two of them got you on your feet and you realized you’d amassed quite the crowd. You looked down at your feet, not wanting to meet anyone’s eye. This was the last time you were going to see some of them, too. Great final impression.

“Alright, show’s over,” Bradley said good naturedly and for the most part, everyone left you alone. 

A couple of the Top Gun pilots you’d gotten to know over the last couple weeks hung around, including Jake, Mickey, Bob, and Natasha. 

Jake’s eyes were filled with concern as he approached you. “You alright?”

You grimaced and held up your hand. “Could be worse.”

“Try not to move it too much, you don’t want the glass to come out before you get to the doctor,” Natasha said, “but I’m sure Bradley will take care of you.” His name was said with a slightly teasing lilt, leading you to believe this wasn’t the first time the team had ragged on him about it. 

“We can call ahead, let them know you’re coming?” Bob offered and Bradley nodded at him.

“Thanks, man. We should get going, though.”

They all offered various platitudes and well wishes and then the two of you were off to where you presumed was the base. Bradley drove extra carefully, even drawing up a line of cars behind him on 4th Street, and you raised your hand above your heart as instructed by Mickey. Once you got through the security gate, he drove a little faster. It was your first time actually on base and you only wished you could enjoy it more - all those hangars and buildings holding god knows what kind of planes and state secrets.

“My friend Ryan’s working tonight, best medic I’ve ever had. He’ll be able to stitch you up, no problem.”

You sniffled and wiped at your tears with your other fist. “I’ve never needed stitches before.”

He smiled at you and patted your leg. It reminded you of your thoughts from earlier in the evening and how you wanted to get even closer to him - you just hadn’t envisioned it this way. 

“First time for everything,” you mumbled, “you ever have stitches?”

“Occupational hazard.” His hand still hadn’t moved from your thigh. “I was worse when I was younger - eyes closed, head first mentality. But then I got spooked on a mission and started overthinking everything. Haven’t had a close call since - well, since recently, I guess.”

“I want to ask, but don’t at the same time.” The Bronco hit a bump in the road and you hissed. “Shit.”

Bradley rubbed slow circles on your thigh with his thumb. “Sorry, we’re almost there. Keep holding your hand up.”

True to his word, you arrived at the clinic on base a few moments later, where an older looking gentleman in fatigues was standing out front waiting for you. Bradley parked - terribly, you might add - and quickly got out of the car.

“Rooster!” the guy, who you assumed was Bradley’s friend, Ryan, called out. 

“Hey, man. Thanks for helping us out, this is Y/N.” Bradley nodded towards you as he helped you out of the car. 

Ryan held his hand out for you to shake then thought better of it. “Nice to meet you, Robbie said you had a nasty fall and might need some stitches?” Robbie? He must have meant Bob.

“Yeah,” you winced after you stepped off the curb funny and the pain shot all the way up to your hand. Ryan and Bradley held the clinic door open for you and then Ryan directed you down the hallway past the triage area.

The clinic was quiet at this time of night. You imagined it was only really busy during the day during training missions or flights - more serious injuries were probably taken care of elsewhere. After walking past a few closed doors, Ryan led you into one that was open and had all the lights on - you assumed it was his personal exam room. 

“Alright, have a seat over here and let’s take a peek at this sucker.”

Bradley helped you up on the exam bench - needlessly, though that didn’t mean it was unappreciated having his hands on you for even a brief moment - and Ryan started unwrapping the dressings Bradley and Penny had hastily applied at the Hard Deck.

Despite the pain you were in, the wound traveled well and Ryan mentioned how pleased he was that you hadn’t taken the glass out yet since it could’ve hit a nerve. As he prepared you for taking the glass out, you subconsciously grabbed Bradley’s hand with your other hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and didn’t once complain at the vice grip you had it in as Ryan stitched you up.

“She’s a trooper, Rooster,” Ryan teased Bradley once he finally finished. “Now Miss Y/N, you’re gonna be in town for a while, I presume?” You nodded. “Good, good. We’ll set something up in about a week or so to take these stitches out. It’ll scar for a while, but shouldn’t be too permanent.”

You glanced down at your now heavily bandaged hand and turned it cautiously. “Thanks, Doctor Ryan - really, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, letting us come in like this.”

The older man chuckled. “It’s no big, Bradshaw here knows I like the late shift, so this gave me something to pass the time. And hey, I like that - Doctor Ryan.” You smiled and made a mental note to send him a thank you card addressed exactly as such. “Now, what plans do you kids have for the rest of the night?”

Bradley shrugged. “Not sure, it’s this young lady’s first time on base, though…”

“Then I think a full tour is in order, don’t you?”

You tilted your head. “A full tour - at night? Is that even allowed?”

Ryan laughed. “I’m sure they’d let your Bradley do just about anything he wanted on base right about now…” You glanced at Bradley - your Bradley, apparently - but found he had ducked his head and his cheeks were red. “A tour certainly wouldn’t be out of the question.”

Bradley let out a sigh, but didn’t seem too put out. “What do you say, sweetheart? You want the full tour?”

This time it was your turn to blush. The term of endearment rolled off his tongue so nicely and you were reminded of all the times he had uttered it earlier in the evening as he was taking care of you.

“I’d love to, actually.” The two of you stared at each other, smiles doting both of your faces when you remembered there was someone else in the room.

Ryan chuckled. “Well, don’t let me keep you…”

“I’ll be sure to tell anyone that it was your idea, lest we get caught…” Bradley recovered quickly. Ryan just waved him off. “You ready?”

After thanking Doctor Ryan again for all the help, you and Bradley left the clinic and climbed back into the Bronco. He took as much care getting you situated this time as he did earlier in the evening - even going as far to buckle you into your seat. And if his hands lightly grazed underneath your t-shirt as he pulled back, then you just hoped your blush wasn’t as obvious as his. 

Like Doctor Ryan mentioned, the base was relatively deserted this time of night and Bradley cruised down the streets with ease, calling out different buildings and whatnot. The base wasn’t just military buildings - there were also stores and restaurants and other facilities for the naval officers and their families - it was like its own little town. 

As the Bronco rolled up to stop sign, you recognized the street you had come in on going one way, but with a muttered fuck it Bradley turned in the other direction and started driving deeper into the base. 

You didn’t ask any questions, you just leaned your head against the window, lulled by the low murmur of the radio and Bradley’s smooth driving as you flew past a new set of buildings, each one larger than the next. Eventually, you stopped in front of what you figured was a hangar and Bradley parked the car - this time better than when he did at the clinic - and cut the engine. 

He turned towards you. “Alright, remember if anyone asks, Rear Admiral Peters said we could be here…”

Your mouth gaped open slightly as his words sunk in. “Wait, wait Doctor Ryan is a Rear Admiral?”

“And a shit-stirrer, too, but -”

“- You had a Rear Admiral take a piece of glass out of my hand? What the fuck, Bradley? Like he doesn’t have anything else better to do?” 

He just laughed. “It’s literally his job, he’s a doctor, Y/N - do you even know what a Rear Admiral is?”

“No,” you sassed right back, leaning closer towards him, “but I do know it’s higher than a Lieutenant Commander -”

“- A highly decorated Lieutenant Commander, I’ll have you know…” 

He glanced at your lips and then back up to your eyes. And he had the absolute dopiest smile on his face and you wanted to kiss it off - just climb over the center console and straddle his waist and kiss him, injury be damned. Because Bradley looked so goddamn happy and irresistible and at ease with himself and you. 

“How could I possibly forget,” you whispered, drawing closer towards him. The air in the car was electric, like there was some invisible string pulling you together.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Let’s go see some planes.”

You two got out of the car and made your way into the hangar. Bradley seemed to have way too much fun sneaking down the corridors, Mission Impossible style, and he kept shushing you when you laughed at his increasingly dramatic evasive maneuvers. Eventually, you got to a locked steel door and Bradley took a keycard out of his pocket and the lock hissed. He grabbed your hand and you two walked through the door before your mouth gaped open at the sight before you.

“Hoooooly shit,” you said in awe, looking up at the rows upon rows of planes spread out before you. “There’s no way we’re actually allowed to be here - even with Doctor Ryan’s blessing.”

“I mean, I think I can be granted a little leeway - after practically saving the world and all.” You shoved his shoulder and he let out a grunt. “Come over here, you can see my new plane.”

You let him drag you across the hangar to an F/A-18 in the corner. “New plane? What happened to the old one?”

A wicked smile crept across his face. “That’s classified, sweetheart.” 

He said the words teasingly enough, but you understood that for Bradley to have a new plane, that meant something had to happen to the old one - like it getting blown up or shot at on that fucking crazy mission. But you reminded yourself that he was standing here beside you, looking as giddy as a kid in a candy shop and you temporarily pushed the thought out of your mind. You approached an F/A-18 on the far side of the hangar with the words “LCR BRADLEY ‘ROOSTER’ BRADSHAW” printed just underneath the canopy.

“This is - wow. I feel so small standing next to these - not literally, just like it’s so much bigger than me.”

Bradley’s lips quirked up slightly. “That’s how I used to feel, that’s how I knew I wanted to fly.”

“Did you want to fly because of your dad?” You’d heard Penny and Captain Mitchell mention Bradley’s father plenty in passing, but Bradley, himself, had never brought him up.

“Yeah, kind of hard not to. I don’t remember him too much, but what I did was all about flying and planes and the Navy. Almost didn’t happen either.”

You turned to face him. “Oh?”

“Maverick - Captain Mitchell, pulled my papers at the Naval Academy. It sent me back four years.” That was why he was so much older than everyone else. “It’s hard to be a naval aviator if you don’t start at Annapolis.”

“Did you do NROTC in college? They had it at USC, a couple people in my major were in it. I remember they’d already been up for hours when I was rolling out of bed for my 9:35 class.”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I did it at UVA and was probably exactly like those kids before your 9:35. I had the biggest fucking chip on my shoulder, too. I was just so - angry at Mav and hadn’t been thinking as straight as I should’ve and my mom had just died. I was a mess.”

You were dumbfounded. “I had no idea.”

“Some parts of it are kind of surreal, too - about the whole Navy thing, I mean. Like when I was first made a Lieutenant, I realized I had surpassed him - my dad - in rank and that every subsequent promotion would only further the gap between us.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be proud of you. I’ve heard the way Captain Mitchell talks about him, he seemed like a great guy.”

“Yeah, I think he would be.” Bradley sighed and gave the plane a quick pat. “Well, uhh what about you and your parents, huh? How do they feel about you being a hot shot lawyer?”

You laughed. “Oh, they’ve told all their friends at the club about how their daughter’s going to be District Attorney some day.” That got you a laugh. “But I could totally sell out and go into corporate or entertainment law and they’d still be proud of me.”

“What do they do?” 

You both had started walking amongst the planes again, slowly making your way back to the door. “My mom doesn’t work, never has. She and my dad got married right after they graduated from USC, but my dad’s an exec at a golf company up in Carlsbad.”

Bradley seemed impressed. “I assume they both play, too?”

“My mom plays at least five times a week, but my dad might get three rounds in if he’s lucky.” 

“Hmmm, now that’s a problem I’d love to have.”

You scoffed and glanced down at your bandaged hand. “You’re telling me.” 

It was quiet between you two for a moment, but it wasn’t strained. As always, it was easy. Bradley’s right hand kept brushing against your left as the two of you meandered between the planes. You took a chance and linked his pinky with yours. Emboldened when he didn’t pull away, you laced the rest of your fingers with his. 

“You ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t in the Navy?”

Beside you, Bradley sighed. “Sometimes - especially when I’ve had a tough day or am on a deployment.”

“And?”

“I loved history when I was in school - still do, really. Military history, historical fiction, old school spy novels - that sort of thing. So, I think I’d be a professor - or a history teacher at the very least.”

You smiled. “No, that sounds perfect, actually. You seem like a big reader, too, though I can’t really say why.”

Bradley laughed and it echoed throughout the hangar. “Fills the time on base. But I think I’d focus on post World War II history, like the Cold War, all leading up to the early nineties.”

“You’ve thought about this,” you said earnestly. He nodded, looking almost bashful. “You could still do it?”

“What? Go back to school and get my PhD?” he joked. “I’d be surrounded by all those young kids -”

“- You’re thirty five, Bradley, not eighty five - plus, I thought you were younger when I first met you?”

He jumped on the topic change. “Oh really now?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your still clasped hands. “You have a young disposition, okay? But uhh back to the original topic…you can still do whatever you want, Bradley. We all can and you deserve the chance to try, too - if you want, that is.”

He absorbed this, thinking it over seriously and you two stopped walking. “I’m gonna miss having my little planner around - also my future lawyer.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You didn’t like being reminded that this had an expiration date. It kept bringing up your thoughts from last weekend; did you tell him how you felt and risk rejection or just resign yourself to leaving things as they were and wait until you went your separate ways? 

Because you liked him - you really liked him and you thought there could be something special between you two. But did he see it the same way?

A noise snapped you both out of your thoughts and Bradley glanced around, looking for the source. “Come on, we should head out.”

You two made your way back to the Bronco, this time with less spy moves from Bradley and giggling from you. The drive back to your bungalow was more subdued and the silence heavier than normal between you. Something had shifted between you two in that hangar. 

After minimal instructions from you on how to get back to your place - Bradley said he had an idea where to go, but didn’t want to get lost - you two got out of the car and he walked you to your front door. You had just turned the key in the lock, opening the door slightly, when you stopped to look up at him.

“So, uhh thanks for everything tonight - again. I really appreciate it - and hey, it’s a good thing I’m not right handed. Might make work a bit of a pain next week,” you were rambling at this point, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

He ducked his head. “It’s no big, I’m just glad I was around to help.” 

Oh, god. Why did he have to look so cute and adorable when he said that? Damn him and that stupid smile of his. Why’d it make you feel like the only girl in the world?

Suddenly, unable to waste another second, you surged forward on your tip toes and grabbed a hold of his shirt with your hand before putting your lips over his. When he didn’t respond right away, except to put his hands on your waist, you immediately pulled back and let out a deep breath. 

You couldn’t believe you’d actually done that and gave into your impulses and just kissed him. And for him not to react or do anything about it? You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look him in the eye and see the expression on his face.

Fuck. Oh god, oh shit. 

“Right, sorry. Uhh thanks again, but I have to go - early day tomorrow and all that.” It was Sunday, but that didn’t matter. “So, I’ll see you around? Or maybe not because - yeah, thanks again, Bradley -”

“- Wait, Y/N -”

But you’d already snuck past him and crept through the door, closing it behind you. God, you were such an idiot. You were friends - that was all. All those little endearments and looks were just how Bradley acted around everyone.

Maybe.

So, why didn’t he kiss you back? Why didn’t he want you? You’d done everything right; taken your time, gotten to be friends, and - fuck. Your eyes started to fill with tears. God, this was so embarrassing. You leaned your head back against the door and took a couple deep breaths, centering yourself. You stood there for god knows how long, going over everything from tonight, from last week, from each interaction you’d had with Bradley. How were you going to face him at the Hard Deck the next time you saw him?

Eventually, minutes later, you shook yourself out of your pity party and went into the kitchen. You put your kit of medical supplies from Doctor Ryan on the counter and started going about your nightly routine, content with wallowing in bed all morning until your shift tomorrow afternoon.

But it was funny. Looking back as you laid in bed, you realized you didn’t hear the Bronco pull out of the driveway until after you turned the kitchen light on.

---------

today

The unfortunate thing was the woman, Abby, seemed rather perfect. She worked on the base in Comms or Targeting - you weren’t quite sure, but Bradley seemed to know exactly what she did - and had her Masters in Aeronautics and Astronautics from MIT. 

Mickey had set the two of them up. Apparently, he and Abby went to undergrad together at Vanderbilt and had reconnected when she had transferred to North Island a couple months back.

She had two Dirty Shirleys - you tried not to scowl at the irony - and Bradley had two pints of Sam Adams. 

And she was pretty - really pretty. She wore a sundress that you desperately wanted to ask where she bought it from and her brown hair looked really soft and shiny in the way that you could never get yours to be and - god, she was perfect. And seemed really fucking nice, too. It would have been so much easier to hate her if she had been a bitch, but she actually seemed pretty cool to hang out with. You cursed Mickey for having such a lovely friend.

Plus, she sounded perfect for Bradley. She was smart, accomplished, and seemed to be rising fast in the Navy. They both rattled off Naval jargon and acronyms like nobody’s business, but you couldn’t tell if Bradley seemed a little more subdued than normal because that was how he acted on a date - a real date - or if he wanted to spare you from any further embarrassment?

Which brought you back to your original thought that this might’ve been easier if Abby wasn’t so fucking perfect and pretty. Because Bradley was pretty, too. Well, maybe not pretty, but he was handsome. And they looked good together. And they’d probably go on a bunch of dates and get married and trot around the world with their equally beautiful kids, probably named after his parents in some variety and - fuck. You took a deep breath and went back to drying some glasses further down the bar from the couple.

You absently glanced at your right hand and the wound still stretched across your skin. Doctor Ryan had called you yesterday about scheduling an appointment to get your stitches taken out and you had originally planned on asking Bradley if he wanted to come with you - if only to be given a chance to see Doctor Ryan again, obviously - but now you weren’t so sure.

Maybe this date of his was a blessing in disguise? It could be a clean break after Saturday night. It wasn’t like you would both be in San Diego for much longer. Bradley was probably heading back to China Lake within the next few days - he hadn’t heard if a base change was part of his promotion yet - and then you would be back up to Stanford in late August. This thing - this stupid, silly, unspoken thing between the two of you wasn’t meant to last. Better to lose him now then later on when you had really fallen for him. 

(But you already had. You totally had.)

With a glance at the clock above the bar, you figured you would ask the couple if they wanted another drink after you had heard the sound of a straw sucking on air a couple minutes ago. You made your way over to the two of them - only to see Abby with her hand on Bradley’s bicep - and took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“Your dress is really cute,” you said honestly, the comment slipping out before you could think better of it. 

Abby thanked you and mentioned the store where she had bought it. “And I must say,” she added teasingly, “you have to be the best dressed bartender I’ve ever seen here.”

“Oh, I actually just got off work at -” you started to reply, but Bradley cut you off. 

“- Y/N’s been working in the DA’s office this summer, she’s in law school at Stanford.” Damn him.

Abby turned her attention back to you and you nodded shyly. “Err yeah, I normally just work here on the weekends, but Penny needed some last minute help tonight, so here we are. Me and my business casual - I even have a blazer in the back room if needed - but uhh, do you guys want another round of drinks?”

They both glanced at each other, feeling the situation out. You could tell Abby wanted another drink with the way she was twirling her paper straw around in her empty glass, but Bradley just shook his head and pushed his empty pint towards you. 

“Nah, we can close out.”

“Cool, sounds good. I’ll be back with your check then.” You nodded and turned on your heel towards the register. 

The back of your neck prickled with awareness as you swiped Bradley’s credit card through the reader. Though you couldn’t be sure, it felt like his eyes were on you. You tried to block out their chatter behind you, but you caught a couple words from Abby: 

we should --- again --- back on base --- maybe

You grabbed the check-pad and slipped the receipt and Bradley’s credit card into it with a little more force than necessary. As you approached the couple, you found Abby looking at you curiously and you subconsciously shrunk back into yourself.

“Uhh here you guys go, have a - have a good night.”

Abby called out a thanks, but you had already headed towards the other side of the bar, not wanting to wait around to hear whatever empty platitude Bradley would surely offer. Though you didn’t turn around to see for yourself, you could hear the scrape of their barstools on the wood floor and the tinkling of the bell above the door, signaling the couple had left. 

You let out a great sigh and rested your elbows on the bar before resting your head in your good hand. Fuck. Stupid fucking Bradley Bradshaw - what kind of a name was that, anyway - going off and making you think - what? What did he really make you think? That he liked you? Did he really lead you on? No. He had been nothing but friendly and kind to you over the past month or so. 

Granted, sometimes you had caught him looking at you like you had hung the moon. And then there was how sweet and protective he was last weekend when he brought you on base and how insistent he always was with making sure you got home safely. But that was just - that was just friendship, wasn’t it? He was just being thoughtful. It probably had something to do with being in the military and having a strong moral code. 

Maybe.

The bell above the door chimed again and you righted yourself to see who it was - and promptly wished you hadn’t.

Bradley. 

“Y/N…” He strode across the bar towards you.

You swallowed thickly. “Can I get you something else?” Your words were all business and professional, but you knew he had seen you slumped over the bar.

“I uhh yeah, actually. I was just curious if you needed a ride home or anything?”

“Well, it’s not raining, so no, Bradley I don’t need a ride home,” you snapped, not at all feeling bad about the hurt expression flitting across his face.

“Right.” He rapped his knuckles against the bar top. “But maybe I can wait around until you’re done with your shift? Talk?”

You just looked at him blankly. You really didn’t want to talk, but it was inevitable and at least if you did it now, you were going home anyway and could wallow all you wanted. “I guess…”

He sat a couple seats down from you, seeming to know you needed some space, and started watching the Padres game. You could tell he was glancing at you as you went about getting ready behind the bar and you eventually took pity on him and got him a glass of ice water.

Penny only needed you till nine that night, so Bradley didn’t have to wait around long. At one point, Captain Mitchell came in and the two chatted for a bit. If nothing else, you were glad to see that things between the two had been resolved. Both Penny and Bradley had alluded to something happening on the mission that brought Uncle Mav back into Bradley’s life and you were pleased the men’s time at Top Gun had resulted in something positive. He kept sneaking looks at you, even while talking to Captain Mitchell, but you avoided making eye contact or acknowledging him. 

And then it was time for you to clock out and talk with Bradley. You briefly considered sneaking out the back to avoid him, but figured you couldn’t drag this out any longer. You stopped by the mirror in the backroom to fix your hair and check your makeup, but then chastised yourself for caring and went to meet Bradley outside. 

There were a couple of picnic tables off the back of the Hard Deck towards the beach and that was where you found him. The soft light of the moon, coupled with the porch lights off the back deck made him look so handsome and you couldn’t help but be disappointed he hadn’t been dressed up for you. 

Bradley turned around at the sound of your approach. “Hey…” 

“Hey…” You crossed your arms over your chest, protecting yourself. Your navy blue blazer normally felt like a suit of armor against snooty colleagues and pretentious law school classmates, but now it just made you feel stuffy and bookish after seeing Abby in that pretty sundress.

“So you uhh wanted to talk, so - talk?” you stuttered.

Bradley took a couple tentative steps towards you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no idea you’d be here and I know that -”

“- Why’d you do it? Why’d you make me think you liked me and then - and then throw it back in my face - by going out with the most perfect girl in the world, mind you - when you know -”

“- You weren’t supposed to be here -”

“- And that makes it better, Bradley? That I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight so I wouldn't have to wait on you and your date? I don’t do this - I don’t go after guys too often. You could’ve just told me you didn’t like me, I’m a big girl, I can handle it. Kinda already got the hint on Saturday night.”

You would’ve accepted it with grace had he actually told you he didn’t like you. Granted, you probably would’ve had a good cry when you got home and texted your friends from school all about your failed summer romance with a naval aviator. But you would’ve accepted it. 

He heaved a great sigh. “But I do like you, Y/N.”

Despite his confession, you couldn’t help but feel small. “Then why’d you go on a date with Abby tonight? She seems lovely, by the way…” you couldn’t help but mutter.

“She’s Fanboy’s friend. He had set her up with Hangman initially, but he had to leave town sooner than he thought and couldn’t go, so he asked if I would.

“And I didn’t see the harm in it; I’d see her once, just hang out and talk, and she’d never be the wiser that Seresin couldn’t make it. It’s why Fanboy picked the Hard Deck, actually - it’s not exactly a first date spot - and he knew I wasn’t looking for anything with her. 

“But then I walked in and saw you standing there and my heart dropped to my stomach and I froze. And you seemed so normal about everything and I kept wanting to text you and explain, but didn’t want to be rude, so I figured I’d just tell you after and then I saw you when I came back in the bar later and you just - you looked so sad that I just had to make sure you knew - because I don’t think she’s the most perfect girl in the world - not at all. But I think you might be - for me.”

You felt your heart softening and took a step closer to him, though he didn’t seem to realize it, too caught up in his own feelings.

“I had this whole plan, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was gonna ask if you wanted me to come with you to get your stitches out and then we could get dinner after? Like a proper date - away from the base and the Hard Deck and everything? And I know that isn’t exactly what anyone would want to do on a first date - no one ever really wants to go to the hospital, but -”

It was funny how close Bradley’s idea mirrored your own. “- I would’ve liked that,” you said softly.

He sighed. “I like you, Y/N - so much. And I really like to be given a chance with you. You just caught me off guard the other night and I shouldn’t have let you go without telling you that, but you bolted before I even got the chance to say anything. So, now I want to say that I’m sorry - for tonight and Saturday and making you think I didn’t - that I don’t like you.”

“I like you, too,” you practically whispered, “It’s just - Bradley, what are we doing here, though? How does this end well? I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have pushed - you’re going back to China Lake and I have to go back to Stanford in the fall and we could’ve parted as friends.”

You didn’t want to fall for him anymore than you already had. He just made it so goddamn hard to resist him.

He stepped forward and took your hand. “I don’t want to part as friends or whatever - I want to be with you, Y/N. For as long or as little time as we’re allowed. My transfer request went through, I’m going to be stationed here - on North Island. So, we have the rest of the summer to spend time together and get to know each other even more.”

You ducked your head and smiled. God, you knew you were going to cave into him and his stupid smile and sweet words. “The rest of the summer, huh?”

A smile crept across Bradley’s face and he bit his lip. “Maybe longer, too. Depends on if you want to keep me around when you go back to being a hotshot lawyer and all..”

“Hmm, it’s too bad Stanford’s a seven hour drive from North Island...” You’d looked it up once, okay? Fucking shoot you.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “You’re forgetting one thing, sweetheart.” You scrunched your nose. “I have a plane.”

“That sounds like misappropriation of government funds, Lieutenant…”

He took a step towards you and slipped his hands over your hips. He had an impish smile on his face. “That’s Lieutenant Commander to you, counselor.” You ducked your head. “But I do have my own plane.”

The image of Bradley standing in front of an old fashioned Cessna briefly flashed through your mind. Maybe he’d take you flying in it? “And you’d fly up to see me? You’d do that?”

“Yea -” you surged forward to kiss him, cutting him off. This time he kissed you back and you wrapped your arms around his neck, the both of you losing yourselves in the kiss. All too soon, Bradley pulled back and laughed. “Why are you always cutting me off to kiss me?”

You clicked your tongue. “Maybe I think that mouth of yours could be put to better use elsewhere?”

“Oh yeah? Want to know what I think?”

This time he leaned forward to kiss you, coaxing your lips open with his tongue. He tasted like beer and smelled him home and you didn’t want him to let go of you. You threaded your hands through his sandy colored hair, finding it just as soft as you’d always imagined. After a moment, you pulled slightly on his lip before dragging your lips along his neck up to his jawline, making sure to slightly graze your teeth against his skin. Bradley pulled you closer towards him in response and pressed his hips against yours. 

You wished you hadn’t been wearing a blazer and a work dress and that Bradley didn’t have that light blue oxford on - even though he had looked so handsome in it. Because you wanted to be closer to him and feel his skin against yours and have him tell you how beautiful you were. 

He pulled back to smile at you and you found yourself doing the same. You both probably looked a little dopey standing there staring at each other with the most adoring smiles on your faces, but for right now it was perfect. 

“You’re worth going the distance, Y/N.”

Because now you had all the time in the world.

-----

taglist: 

@nikkmarie @delicateflorencia @idkwiabiawia @domerpalmer​ @myname144244​ @unknown1010000202 @rosiahills22 @millama19  @itzzgillianj  @roosterschanelslut  @arianna-bradshaw @n3ssm0nique @katiemcrae​ @the-winter-marvel33 @the-untamed-soul @shanimallina87 @ nikkmarie @jadedcircus @wishingwell-2  @athenxt  @anotheronechicagobog @alana4610 ​

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse

Word Count: 4869

A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!

Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 

“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.

You nodded. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.

“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”

“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 

Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.

“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 

“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.

“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.

“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “

That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.

***

The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 

“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.

“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.

“Great,” you mumbled.

“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.

“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.

A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 

They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.

In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 

Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.

Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.

“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 

“I saw you inside,” she told them.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.

“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”

***

Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.

“I do,” he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 

“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.

“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.

You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”

 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 

You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 

“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “

“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 

You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 

“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.

The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 

You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.

“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 

The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 

‘Dammit.’

“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 

You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

You three obeyed.

“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”

“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 

The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.

“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”

“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”

You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.

“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”

“None taken.”

“But what about the shotguns?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.

Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.

You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.

Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 

You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 

While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.

“Need help?” you smirked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.

“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.

“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”

“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.

You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.

Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.

“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 

You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”

“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.

Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.

“Super,” the older brother muttered.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.

“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.

***

You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.

The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”

Sam nodded. You chortled.

“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”

“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.

“What about you?” 

Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 

“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 

He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.

He shot you a look.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”

“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”

“What, at pool?”

He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”

“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.

You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”

You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”

You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 

“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.

“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 

He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.

You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 

“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.

Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”

“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”

You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 

“Um, weird question,” you started. 

He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 

“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”

And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.

“Dean?”

“Hm.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

***

Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.

“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 

“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”

About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 

The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  

“Let them through.”

“Thanks.” 

You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.

“You okay?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” sighed Sam.

“What the hell happened?” 

“Hook Man.”

You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.

“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.

“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”

Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 

“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.

Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”

“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook—”

The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”

“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 

He said nothing.

“Exactly,” you giggled.

***

Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.

“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”

“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.

“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”

Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”

Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 

Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.

“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.

“Dean and I will take the church, then.”

“We will?” the older brother asked.

“Yup.”

You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.

You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 

“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 

Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.

“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.

You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 

“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.

Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”

You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”

“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”

“I have,” you said. “My mom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “

“Catholic?”

“Oh, very.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”

Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.

“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 

Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”

His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.

“So did I,” the older brother answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”

“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.

“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.

“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  

You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.

You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 

You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 

“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”

“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen. You and those two boys—”

Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 

“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 

You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee

[romantichomicide95]

KINKTOBER-AKI HAYAKAWA/FREE SPACE

pairing: aki hayakawa x reader

warnings: 18+. spanking.choking. p in v. fingering. oral (f!receiving). female anatomy. slight praise kink. multiple positions. drunk sex. drinking. smoking. slight rough sex.

notes:how is this my first time writing for him and this is the longest thing i’ve ever written? please. also if it’s ooc im sorry. and i finished this at 1am so don’t come for me with the end.

word count-> 2k

kinktober masterlist / taglist

“Here.” You say throwing the pack of cigarettes at your roommate, Aki. He had come home from work moments ago, and you’d realized you’d forgotten to do the one thing you’d promised him…buy him a new pack of beer and cigarettes. He’d gotten a little pissed, which wasn’t unlike him after a shitty day at work as a Devil Hunter, so you let it slide.

Mostly because you so conveniently drank the last beer in the fridge, so you’d had to run to the corner store for both.

“Thanks." Aki said, taking the cigarettes and beer. He looked at you with his normal stoic expression, yet his dark eyes held a flicker of gratitude.

"Sorry I got so pissed before. I had a rough day.” He looks over at you. Your hair is down today and you look really good. He thinks you always look good. Your figure, the way you dress just a little bit revealing. He thinks you do it on purpose to drive him crazy. You’d had sex before, the perks of having a hot roommate, but it had only been a few drunken nights…much like this one.

“It’s cool. I’m sorry I forgot. My memory’s kind of on the fritz lately.” You say, taking a beer and settling down next to him on the couch.

"Yeah, whatever. I’m over it ." Aki says, taking the beer from you. His attention seems to be locked on you, he can't help but stare at your lips. The way they pout ever so slightly. “Let’s just forget about it." He adds, looking away.

“Alright. Deal.” You say, smiling at him. You turn the TV on to some random show and you both sit in comfortable silence watching TV and drinking beers, you make it through the pack quite quickly.

Eventually, Aki grabs his cigarettes and stands up, walking outside towards the balcony for a smoke. You follow behind him.

Aki lights a cigarette, and watches you as you walk towards him, your hips swaying slightly. He can't help but admire the way your body moves. You’ve got such a great body, he thinks to himself.

"Can’t believe you’re drunk already” He says, taking a drag.

“And you’re not?”

“I’m not as much of a lightweight as you." He says. He takes another drag from his cigarette and looks at you.

You giggle slightly, “That’s true.” You take a step towards him, a slight sway in the way you walk thanks to the affects of alcohol. “I think you like me when I’m drunk though.” You tease.

"Maybe." He says, his voice low and husky. His eyes are locked onto yours, admiring the way they sparkle under the dim light of the balcony.

He takes another drag from his cigarette, watching as smoke billows around you.

You wave your hand in the smoke, willing it to disappear. “I think I’m a fun drunk.” You say with a cute little pout.

"Yeah, you're fun." He says, his voice a little deeper from the affects of the booze. “As long as you don’t puke on me." He says, with a slight chuckle, taking another drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing red in the darkneses.

“Hey!” You yell, swatting his arm. “That was one time.” You say in defense. With a playful grin you lean against the balcony railing. The cool breeze brushing against your face.

“I'm kidding." He says, with a smug smile. “Let's go back inside." He takes another drag from his cigarette and then stubs it out on the railing of the balcony.

You follow him inside, the glow of the TV illuminating the room. You lean against the kitchen counter, watching as he grabs another beer from the case.

“Want another?” He asks, extending a beer filled hand to you.

You hop up on the counter, opening your beer and taking a sip. “See, I think you’re trying to get me even more drunk.” You tease, a playful smile graving your lips. “Cause you like me drunk.”

"Maybe." He says, shrugging. He steps closer to stand directly in front of you, looking you up and down as you sit on the counter. He looks in your eyes for a second, before leaning up to grab a bag of chips from the cupboard behind your head. His shirt slightly lifts and your eyes trail along his stomach, admiring his physique.

“Like what you see?" He, asks catching you staring, his voice low. He takes a chip from the bag and pops it into his mouth, watching you closely.

The tension between you is palpable. “Maybe I do.” You shrug. He takes a step closer, setting the bag of chips down next to you. You instinctively spread your legs apart, giving him access to step between them.

“You’re drunk.” He says, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His voice is low and husky and the rich tones make your body shiver.

“So what if I am?”

“Well, if you're drunk, then maybe you don't care."He moves closer to you, your bodies slightly touching. One of his hands reaches resting on your thigh, just barely above the hem of your shorts. “Maybe you want me too."

“Want you to what?” You ask, feigning innocence.

You can feel the heat from your bodies emanating between you. Electricity funnels through you both, a magnetic pull of your bodies. Aki’s hand moves higher up your thigh, closer to the heat between your legs. “Do things that we shouldn't be doing right now."

You suck in a breathe as his hand moves higher and your heartbeat picks up. Your gaze falls from his eyes to linger on his lip before you’re looking back at his eyes again. You say nothing, the electricity surging through your body renders you momentarily speechless.

Aki senses this as his hand finally stops to rest at your hips. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

All you can do is bite your lip and nod as he leans in to brush his lips against yours. His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He presses his lips to yours in a long lingering kiss, he pulls away to look at you. He smirks at the hunger he can see in your eyes before he leans in to kiss you again.

This kiss is deeper, his tongue traces the edges of your lips seeking permission to enter before sliding inside.

He pulls away slightly, his piercing blue eyes looking through you as a smirk grows on his face. “You taste like beer.”

“So do you.” You say, breathless and eager. You lean in brushing your lips against his again. He pulls you closer, his lips pressing against yours in a hard rough kiss. A kiss filled with hunger, and intense desire.

Aki’s hands navigate the curves of your body, until he finds the hem of your shirt, pulling it off over your head. He admires your body for a second before he’s kissing you again. Your hands travel up his back, gliding your fingertips over his muscles until you reach his hair, gently tugging at the dark strands.

His hands move to your waistband, undoing the button and zipper with quick movements. He pulls your shorts and panties off. Exposing that beautiful sight of your naked pussy. You spread your legs further, and it’s like a beacon calling to him. “Fuck you’re so wet..." he murmurs before he’s down on his knees and diving in, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips.

You let out a soft moan, tugging his hair as he licks and sucks at your heat. His hands grip the flesh of your ass, holding you steady as he devours you. “Fuck…taste so good.” He says, tasting the sweetness of your juices that mingle with the taste of beer on his tongue.

He’s intoxicated. Your taste mixed with the pretty little moans that escape your lips as you tug his hair, is driving him insane. His fingers slip inside you, moving in rhythm with his tongue.

You rut your hips up, chasing more of his tongue as you clench around his fingers. He smiles slightly against your skin, before his tongue is flicking at your clit. He thrusts his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot that causes you to moan louder.

“Aki…F-fuck…gunna cum.”

“Cum for me." He murmurs against your skin. His fingers move faster, his tongue whipping around your clit. He can feel it happening, the way your body tenses up, the way you moan his name over and over again. “That’s right..." he says as you explode around him, your juices dripping down his face and covering his fingers.

He pulls back slightly, looking at the mess he's made of you. The way your pussy glistens is amazing. He leans in again, licking up every last drop of your cum from your body. His tongue traces along your sensitive parts, making you gasp and arch into him.

“Aki, please…” You beg, all you can think about now is how bad you want him inside you. He leans in to kiss you, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

"Please what?" He whispers, his hands tracing up your thighs. His eyes are locked onto your body, the way you're shivering under his touch. The thought of being inside you now is driving him crazy. “Fuck you?" he asks, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I can do that.”

You reach down, helping him to take his pants off as your lips meet again. “So fucking eager.” He groans against your lips as his cock springs free. His hands grip your ass, pulling you against him as his cock slowly sinks inside you.

Soft groans escape him as he feels your gummy walls tighten around his cock, the feeling is almost too intoxicating.

“Best fucking pussy. God, feels so good.” He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in again, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your entire body shiver with pleasure. “Ahh fuck, love this pussy so much.” He moans again, his hips moving faster now. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady.

He groans again, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The way your pussy clings to him, the sound of your bodies slapping together, it’s almost too much for him. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there.

"I can't...fuck..." He pulls out suddenly, leaving you feeling empty and needy. “Get down and turn around.”

You oblige, bending over and spreading yourself open for him. He admires your ass, round and firm begging for his touch before he gives it a good slap. Causing you to cry out in pleasure and pain.

He steps closer thrusting inside you from behind, unable to control his movements. His hands grip your hips again, holding you steady as he fucks you hard moving you in sync with his rhythm. He slaps your ass again, admiring the handprint left behind.

“Fuck, come here.” He says turning you around again, he lifts you up with ease and carrys you to the couch. Laying you down and lining himself with your entrance again, he thrusts inside you again. His hips move faster, his cock hitting your service everytime he enters your lush walls.

He comes down to kiss you again, trailing his lips down your body before taking a hard nipple into his lips. His tongue moves around the bud and it causes your moans to become louder. You rut your hips up into his, your nails digging into his back as his thrust become more erratic.

He can feel something start to boil inside him, a coil in his stomach ready to explode. “C-can’t hold on much longer…gunna cum.”

“Cum inside me Aki, fill me all the way up.” You moan, breathlessly in his ear. Those words alone cause him to let go, as he shoots his seed inside you, filling you up.

He rides his orgasm out, before collapsing on top of you. You both lay breathless and sweaty.

After awhile he leans up on his hands above you, kissing you on the forehead and looking in your eyes.

You take a deep breath. Carding your fingers through his hair, stifling a giggle. “Told you that you liked me when I was drunk.”

[whmp]

hey, it's me! i'm still alive, somehow, though just barely. this semester has been pretty tough so far and will probably remain that way until spring. despite this, i managed to add some fun new features. : ) ALSO i promise 100000% that if you sent me an ask i WILL answer it. i will. anyway, look at all those cool things! -> a system for cuts, bruises, tattoos, wounds and other decorations your whumpee's skin is an empty canvas. whether you fill it with scars and wounds or cutesy band aids is up to you!

the way this is set up is kind of like a bunch of stickers. so for example, if you decide to hurt the lil' guy with something sharp, he'll get a "stab wound" sticker in the spot you decided to target. over time, that sticker will change over to a "stab scar" one. it's a very flexible way to do things, but it still needs some work and a couple big changes, since it's very unfriendly to low-end computers. in terms of visuals though, it should look exactly the same as the decal-based "decorations" for your whumpee that you see above!

- a better way of getting that dude on camera the camera system is now a lot more immersive and will fit the story. the awkward developer cam that could clip into walls is no more.

you can drag around the view and zoom in and out by scrolling. as you progress, you'll get access to even more ways to invade your whumpee's privacy. : )

-> new ways to get horny in the last devlog post (around 1000 years ago) i said that you won't see any "horny accessories" in the upcoming updates. that was a complete lie, sorry! here's a preview of some cool new horns you can give to your whumpee.

the neat part is that the horns are customizable - other than just choosing the shape, you can modify their size and color gradient. -> other stuff + story i've made plenty of changes and additions to the back end. most of it is not flashy or super significant - most of the time and energy i could dedicate to the project went right into fueling the violent, bloody conflict between me and custom shader code. i've also made some updates to how time is simulated and fixed a bunch of bugs. there is now a sound system too! i'll look for some copyright-free sfx and music before the next update. oh, and there's some lore too!

i've been experimenting with different ways of delivering the main storyline. heavily stylized cutscene-like sequences were very fun to do! not sure if i'll stick with this style though. either way, i have the general outline of something that resembles a plot. >: ) that's it for now! again, sorry for the irregular update schedule. i've been following the "no progress for a long time, then one night you have all the energy and inspiration in the world and you zone the fuck out for an unhealthy amount of time just working on your thing then until realize that you're going to be asleep within the next 40 seconds" development strategy - hopefully, my brain will kindly allow me to switch to a more comfortable workflow. :' ) taglist below: (let me know if you want to be added OR LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO ADD YOU IM SO SORRY) @whumpinthepot @andithewhumper @pigeonwhumps @monarchthefirst @scp-1296 @whumpedydump @screenys-whump-corner @whumpshaped @bloodsweatandpotato @burning-and-remembering @thealmightyconeoftruth @whimpity-whumpity @catnykit @vietbluecoeur @rainythealias @cardboardarsonist @snakebites-and-ink @lthrboy @woo-lu-woo @wingsofadragonsstuff @wecoffphm @bayvel @pics-and-fanfics @dokidokisadness @generic-whumperz @lambetjenasus @aarika-merrill @hayaneakabane @moons-cozy-corner @brittaunfiltered09 @rule-masochism @reverie1234 @oddsconvert @wh-wh-whumpified @currentlyinthesprial @cupcakes-and-pain @heavenlyden @whumpsday @likeadeadbattery @stay-on-topic1 @cyborg0109 @kawhump @astrowhump

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 3

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Words: 4,990, Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Sexism, Arguing, Man trying to get with reader.

A/N: AAAHHHH PART 3?!!? Guys this is so much fun for me and I'm so glad you guys are having fun too. Is it weird that I feel like we are doing this together? Also guys just to warn you... we are getting a little angsty,,, a little violent... So if you are not into it, comment and I will give you the general plot of this chapter if it become too much! Anyway please enjoy, love you guys so much! And if I forgot to add you to the taglist I am so sorry! Just lemme know and I'll amend it! And if you need to see the other parts, click the tag with the title of the series, and it should have all the parts together! Ok I’m done!

The home of Alfie Solomons was the quintessential diorama of an old man's bachelor pad. Despite the anxious and angsty attempts by his elderly maid Sarah, the home still carried the air of a man who not only preferred to be left alone, but also had no plans of adding anyone into his inner sanctum. There was paper and documents strewn about, half read books piled by his favorite chair, a hosting bar cart that was looking more ancient than him, and a massive dog making his home on the floor in front of the roaring fire. Alfie silently thanked Sarah for her efforts. Sarah was the best housekeeper he could have ever asked for, she was essentially silent, and did not scold him for the ever present animal pen he kept. Then only things she asked for was to be paid on time, for her Sabbath to be uninterrupted, and to be warned ahead of time if there was to be company. Luckily, he never had to concern her with the last item.

With a grunt he landed on his favorite chair, studying the unused love seat and the matching chair to his that sat across from him. It was a set that was meant to host, that was meant to have visitors and entertain. He had no idea why he bought them, they looked exactly as they did when he bought them three years ago. Untouched. And yet he couldn't help but imagine you sitting so prettily on the chair beside him. With every inhale he could smell the lingering scent of you on his jacket lapel. Clean, like plain soap and fresh air. A kiss of lavender oil that washed over him as you flipped your hair out of your face. He could see so clearly you laughing at his jokes, pouring out tea for you and him, rubbing Cyrils face and giggling at Alfie's gruffness. He could see you darning a small sock...

With a groan Alfie rubbed the visions out of his eyes like a dream. Because that's what it was isn't it? A stupid stupid dream. You were so... fresh and sweet and... frustrating and loud and obnoxious and such a know it all and... beautiful and kind and smart and...

Alfie huffed and got up to beg for sleep in his room, but his head on the pillow only ran through these reveries even more. You were much to young. 10 years his junior at least. You were pure and kind, and he was a bad man. It was an unequal yoke to carry. He had killed people in the war and at home. He had manipulated and schemed to get this. And you deserved more. You deserved a good man, a softer man. Someone who lived a quiet life and could give you a life above board, where you never had to look over your shoulder. Someone who was gentle and wouldn't argue with you, would just treat you like the Queen of Sheba. That is what you deserved. Not some old gangster with a bad back and dozens of men plotting his demise. With a sigh he resolved his promise. He would take care of you as long as you let him. Protect you from all the mess and nonsense of this job, and let you be the girl you are. And when it was time to let you go... he'd let you go. He could protect you and honor you ask long as you'd let him, but when the right man came along, he’d let you leave, knowing that you were safe. And with a sigh he rolled over, letting himself sleep for a few hours, his mind slipping off into a world where you maybe chose him, and made that other chair your favorite.

Across Camden you had just finished explaining to your mother that your very kind boss had just brought you home after a late night in the office. You had to assure her that you were safe and that he was very respectable, that no danger was present. Though the constant worrying and fussing irritated you sometimes, she was a good woman, a good mother, who just wanted the best for her oldest child.

Your mother and father got married incredibly young, and were forced to become acquainted with the world and it’s imbalances even earlier. Where you still got to be young and childless and educated, your mother at your age had already had you, and was working in the family tailors shop full time. The day you realized your mother could scarcely write her name, you heard your mother sobbing to your father late in the evening. It was then that you resolved to do your best in everything, making sure your mothers sacrifices weren’t in vain. And if it took a little white lie to keep her from having a heart attack? Well… it would be worth it.

“Ah I just don’t know darling, that seems awfully forward don’t you think? I don’t even remember your father being alone with me ever until our wedding night? Are we sure he is a good man? Do you have anything with you in your purse darling?”

“Mama I promise you everything is fine. I think his insistence in NOT letting me walk home is evidence enough yes?”

Your mother fiddled with the end of her long braid, a habit indicating her anxiety, a motion you know well, “Mmm I suppose… but darling I just worry. Young women now… very very independent and it is good but… oh I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of darling. Will you take a weapon or something with you?”

You laughed, and maybe you shouldn’t laugh at your own mother. But… oh it is your mother!!! The sweet woman that she was! Who refused to go to sleep without a candle, and forbid your father from cleaning his gun around her, and dropped many a plate due to loud noises… what does she know about a weapon!! “Mama what weapon?! Shall I bring a hand gun to work? Mama none of us know how to use a gun, except Papa and Eli! I’m ok I promise! My boss is not a dangerous man!”

From her place in the kitchen cabinet you heard her speak, “Oh hush! Of course not a gun!! You are absolutely ridiculous. No just take this pocket knife ok? Oh please don’t look so disturbed! It is in good condition and your father got it for me when he would have to work late at the tailors! Will just put it in your work bag please? For your poor mother? If you love me you’ll do it!”

With a laugh and a kiss on her soft cheek you affirmed her, “Of course mama, I could never refuse your gifts. Now now mama don’t be cross i am not teasing! Just promise me you don’t worry about me anymore! I am a grown woman and I am very capable of taking care of things. I learned from the best yeah?”

You mother nodded and kissed your cheek back, patting your head, “Yes yes. Well thank you my love. Now I’m off to bed, and you should too. Sleep well my darling.”

As you prepared for bed you felt a heaviness in the pit of your stomach. What would your mother say when she found out you had been lying to her? What if she did find out? What if she sees you with Alfie in the street? No no it wasn’t possible. Your mother hadn’t left this side of Camden in a decade, and she hates going farther than two blocks. No no it’s fine. You’re fine. And technically, it wasn’t a complete lie! No Alfie was honorable! And he was sweet! And he was handsome… and kind…. and smart… and rugged… if he weren’t a gangster you would’ve probably been matched with him… to be his wife.. No no! No what a childish fantasy. Those are the thoughts of a love struck child. He was your boss and that was it! So what if he was handsome? You were his secretary and that was it! And if he somehow decided to… promote you… you allowed a giggle to leave your chest as you blew out the lamp next to you. Tomorrow is another day.

Soon you developed a routine with Alfie, and the next few months seemed to fly like a wonderful dream. During the week you woke up, making yourself and Alfie lunch for day. The walk to the bakery was typically a lovely and brisk one, with the rising sun being your partner.

Upon arriving at the office, you make quick work of saying hello to the regular faces, and sneaking a sweet treat to Ollie. You set the kettle on, making sure a nice hot cup is ready for you and Alfie upon his arrival. A healthy amount of milk and sugar for you. Almost no milk for Alfie, but extra sugar. Then the daily schedule needs to be attended to. After working with Alfie for a few months you’ve developed a system of who gets what treatment. Some names get tea and a pleasant seat. Some get very bitter tea and must stand the entire time while they wait. Some get absolutely nothing, and are made to stand with their back to Alfie’s door, wondering how they will be summoned. Shot or call. During the meetings you take copious notes. Partially to make sure you don’t miss anything that Alfie will need to call upon later, partially to make visitors nervous about what is being recorded. You had become quite the necessary tool for Alfie. You added a certain glamour and class to the office. A sort of authority in the way you walked that continued to make weak men sweat in the office. Alfie’s favorite part of these meetings was having you re-read what was said, noticing that you added a certain something to keep the pressure on the other party. You were proving yourself an absolute natural.

It was during a day like this when Alfie came back from a ‘social visit’ with a big smile on his face, “Shalom treacle!! Get your coat darling we’re going out!”

You looked up from the calendar you were organizing, “Shalom Alfie, what do you mean we are going out? You have an appointment at 2, and you need to look at the numbers from last week and-“

“Hush woman, fuck the meeting I said we are going out.”

He grabbed your long coat from the hook, and held it open for you to put it on, “Now my love we have very special things today. You remember the gaming club Tommy mentioned? Well he found a place right? And today we are going to look at it and get a price for it.”

As you put your arms through the sleeves, and grabbed your scarf from Alfie you can’t help but question, “But what does this have to do with me? Why do you want me there?”

Alfie then finished his dressing of you by handing you your bag and offering you his arm, “What does this have to do with you? What does this have to do with you? Have I heard that right? Well my dear you put the fear of the devil himself into men like no other. Make them piss themselves. No no don’t laugh treacle it’s true! I need you to strike fear in the hearts of these sinners and help me find the holes. Think you can do it darling?”

The way he smiled at you… it made you want to do anything and everything for him. You smiled and nodded, “Let’s get on with it then.”

Alfie smiled even greater at the small smirk that played on your beautiful lips. He loved it when you worked with him like this. You walked arm and arm, laughing and carrying on like mischievous children ready to prank their teacher. You arrive at the possible location still laughing when you meet Thomas Shelby, and two other men, who you can only assume are the other Shelby brothers that you’ve heard so much about. Your eyes meet with Tommy’s, and you feel your stomach drop at the wink he gives you before walking toward you and Alfie. “Alfie, glad you could make it, “ he stoops down to grab your hand and kiss it, “Good to see you again darling. Let me introduce you to my brothers.”

You’re introduced to both Arthur and John. Your eyes soften at both their faces. John’s eyes show a soft mirth, a sweetness of a young man who still has so much to learn, much like Eli. Arthur… just looking at him your heart is heavy. You don’t know anything about him but his eyes look sad, and there is a weight to his shoulders that make you already feel quite sorry for him.

It takes about three flights of stairs to reach the top floor of the building. It's musty, clearly has not been used for some time, there are cobwebs and piles of dust over every counter, and the once white cloths covering the tables are now a dingy gray. Your wide eyes look up and around the space, clutching your notepad and pen to your chest, "What did this place used to be?"

Tommy answered, "It was once a bar, a little club run by some young idiot who thought he knew his way around this business. Couldn't make it past a year. Now.... it's been sitting vacant. Waiting for us."

You stray from Alfie's side, making notes of everything that would need to be done, "What all is included in the sale?"

"Everything. Tables, counters, fixtures, chairs. All for a reasonable price if you ask me."

"Mmmm Alfie will be the judge of that I think. Alfie, the wall paper will need to be redone yes? I think a richer color on the walls."

Alfie looked at Tommy and smiled, "Yes you're quite right treacle. A wine red yeah? Something indicative of the debauchery of such a hell hole."

"Mmm yes. Tommy, John, Arthur... how stable is this bar counter? How much would it cost to replace it?"

And so went the rest of the afternoon. You milling around the space making notes and sketches, and supplementing with the comments of the men in the room, who may or may not have been following you like ducklings. John and Arthur pulled curtains to let light in, and frankly John was more than willing to do what it took to gain a pleased smile from you. Once adequate notes had been taken, everyone sat around a table, waiting for the agent to come by and agree to a price.

During this part of the meeting, you tended to hold your tongue, only responding to when Alfie asked you to ‘refresh’ his memory on a particular point. It was these parts of the meetings that you could really see Alfie work his magic. Tommy Shelby and Alfie Solomons couldn’t be more different. Where Tommy was smooth and steady in tone, Alfie was a hurricane. A bear of a man who ripped things to shreds. Though on the surface it looked as though Alfie was merely destroying and rebuilding on a whim, there was a method. Study his opponent, memorize the motions and responses to his moves, and utilize it against them. Use previous information to flip and return on his enemy. It was a studied craft. Something you knew that had worked on for a long time. It was an art piece, and with every wink he threw your way, it was clear it was not just an act, but a piece of him. He was a gangster, through and through.

Soon enough, a deal was reached, and a plan was set in place for renovations to start the very next day. And in accordance with their 50/50 split, equal men of Shelby’s and Solomons’ men would be taking part in the work. All the men shook hands, you nodded and smiled at the Shelbys, quick to rebuff Tommy’s offer to take your hand again. Alfie seemed to be in a particularly good mood, and as you walked out of the building, he looked at you and said, “Oi... you hungry?"

You stopped and peered up in his eyes that were partially obscured by the wide brim of his hat, "Mr. Solomons are you asking me to dinner?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh goodness... see this is why you can never be nice right? Because there you go... being cheeky with me... can never be a yes or no with you yeah? It's always got to be something with you innit? I mean - "

"Alfie Alfie! Yes I am hungry! Now take me to dinner and buy me a drink yeah?" You laughed at his blustering and grabbed his arm, making him meet your eyes, he huffed in response but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Buy you a drink yeah buy you a drink! Buy you a hobby so you stop harassing old men. I mean don't you have anything better to do than just be mean to your old boss?"

You laughed as you both walked away down the street, "What do you mean a hobby? My whole life now is just doing your bidding isn't it? And someone must keep you humble, all that business makes your head explode."

You let Alfie lead you to a clandestine pub a few blocks away, shrouded by family businesses and laughing people. As soon as Alfie walked in, the wait staff scurried around, clearing a table in the corner for both you and Alfie. Soon enough you had been given food and drink, and you felt increasingly more relaxed in your seat, facing away from the door opposite of Alfie. You allowed yourself to day dream in the comfortable silence you occupied. It didn't feel like dinner with your boss. It felt like dinner with a friend. Dinner with more than a friend. You imagined about what it would be like with Alfie all the time. To spend the afternoon with him walking through town, enjoying the sun and the conversation. To be taken to dinner with him, meet with friends and repeating faces. To be taken back home with him... sit in front of his fire... to fall asleep with him...

"Hello... treacle??" You're knocked out of your reverie with Alfie's bejeweled fingers waving in front of your face.

"Oh my gosh Alfie I'm so sorry! Yes whats wrong?"

Alfie laughed heartily head thrown back, "Goodness darling your mind must've been in fucking Timbuktu! I was asking if you wanted another drink?"

You felt the heat flush to your ears and cheeks and chuckled in your embarassment, "Oh my goodness I'm so embarrassed. No no I'm fine Alfie thank you. You go, I'll keep our table."

Alfie nodded and went to the bar to grab another glass of Rum. You proceeded to look around the cozy pub when a man slid into Alfie's seat. "Well hello beautiful. Mind if I sit here?"

Your eyes rushed to him. Young. Could be handsome if he cared to bathe and wash the stink of liquor off of him and change his shirt. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was sweaty. Stupid. Clearly so. "I'm sorry but you must be mistaking me for someone else. I'm here with my boss and you are sitting in his seat."

He sneered and winked at you, "Oh I saw the old man alright. Solomons yeah, I know him. I'm not too worried about the old man darling. Why don't you come sit with me yeah? I promise I am much more pleasant company."

The irritation was brewing in your stomach, but in truth you didn't want to cause a scene, "If you know Mr. Solomons then you either have a death wish or you are stupid. Please leave and get away from me. Mr. Solomons will not be happy to see you in his seat."

"You calling me stupid?"

"I am. You are clearly an imbecile, and a drunk one at that, now if you excuse me."

You proceeded to get up to find Alfie, when the man stood up and grabbed your arm, "You dumb bitch, how dare you get up. I'm trying to be nice to you!"

The table fell over with a clatter, and you began to scream, "Get off of me!!"

Before you could say another word Alfie came through wretching the man's hand off your arm, squeezing the man's neck."Now you listen to me right? You apologize to the young lady right now."

The young man's face began to slowly turn red, but he managed to splutter out, "Or what? You're gonna hit me with your cane?"

Alfie only seemed to squeeze tighter, and you saw something in Alfie's eyes that you've never seen before. It scared you. "No... no no... this is what's going to happen. If you don't apologize to the sweet young lady here. I will kill you. If you do apologize, I will not kill you. Now I think... I think that is a pretty generous offer yeah? And little man... I think you know who I am. And I think you know that killing little vermin like you doesn't bother me the least bit yeah? So what will it be? Quickly now!"

Without Alfie letting go, the slowly purpling face gasped out, "I'm sorry. I'm so... sorry ma'am."

You nodded back, feeling bile rise in your throat. Alfie dropped the man unceremoniously on the floor with a crack of the table. Without looking away from the gasping man he yelled to seemingly no one and everyone, "OUT!"

Every patron but you and the owner scrambled out with out a second thought. The bar owner locked the door and went to the back, and you felt your pulse quicken ringing in your ears. The sick in your stomach swirling. Alfie circled the still gasping man, who had bruises blooming on his throat, "Now... who taught you to grab women like that eh? Who said that was ok?"

The man didn't respond, and in anger Alfie kicked him right in the ribs. You screamed behind your hands as you heard the sickening thud and crack. Alfie grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him against the wall, 'WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? YOU THINK YOU CAN GRAB MY SECRETARY! YOU CAN GRAB MY GUEST?"

The young man began to sob, begging, and saying he was sorry. Alfie only continued, "Oh you crying now yeah? I thought you said you knew about me and weren't scared. That's why you thought you could harass my sweet secretary yeah? Well let me get you better acquainted."

With that, you saw the Mad Baker of Camden for the first time. Beating and beating and beating the man in front of you. Blood coating the knuckles of Alfie, as the young man's face proceeded to take the most brutal beating of it's life. You tried to stay quiet but it became too much, "ALFIE ENOUGH! It's enough Alfie!"

He paused, fist mid air as the man quivered underneath him. Alfie turned to you, "Enough? It's enough?? This man touched you without your permission and this is enough?!"

"You're going to kill him Alfie! Please enough!"

"I determine when it's enough!"

And he went back to punching him, growing more and more wrathful. And it became too much when the groans stopped, but the punches didn't. All you could do was scream at Alfie and weep. When Alfie finally finished and was heaving, you shoved a napkin in Alfie's hand and left without a word.

You began walking down the street, the tears streaming down your face. You didn't want anyone to see you crying, and the slowly setting sun aided. It was going to be an hour walk home. Your feet will hurt by the end of the night. But you didn't care. You needed the walk. You needed the air. You needed the scent of blood out of your nose and the sight of Alfie out of your mind. You had walked for who knows how long when you heard Alfie's voice yelling over the sound of a car, "Get in the car NOW!"

You looked over your shoulder, Alfie was yelling your name out the window of the car, with Ollie driving. You turned your head back and kept walking forward. You kept hearing Alfie curse, yelling your name, "Stop being a child and get in. DO AS I SAY NOW!"

"OR WHAT? YOU'LL BEAT ME WITHIN AN INCH OF MY LIFE??"

You tried to keep walking, but in a dangerous move the car sped and swerved in front of you, blocking your walk. You gasped as Alfie got out of the car, with a red stained, jeweled finger in your face, "Listen to me... you stop this act. You get in the car right now. You can be angry at me all you want but listen to me... you do not walk home alone. You work for me, you don't walk alone at night. Now. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car."

Tears were still streaming down your face, and you were so so angry with him, but you didn't have a choice. And your feet were hurting. With a huff you walk in the car, not letting him hold the door open for you. You sat in your seat, nodding at a very embarrassed looking Ollie. As soon as Alfie sat next to you, you stared out the window, looking at all the apartments whose occupants were definitely not listening in to your argument. You sat in silence for a few moments, but you couldn't hold it in any longer, "That was too far Alfie."

"I decide what is too far."

"You could have killed him."

"And the world would be better for it."

"You cannot treat people like that Alfie. He was just a child."

"A child who definitely would have hurt another woman in the future, he needed to learn a lesson."

You turned to him then, "Oh and that's how people are taught then yeah? Beating them to a bloody pulp any time they make you upset?"

He leaned in to your face, getting dangerously quiet, "This is my life darling. This is what you signed up for."

You scoffed, "I did not sign up to be a witness to you being a beast! This is not a way to live! This is heinous! You don't have a right to treat people this way!"

You didn't realize your volume, or the way your heart was racing. You were heaving, tears streaming down your face. His eyes... fixated on you. There was rage but you knew it wasn't at you, "I have every right darling. This is the life that has been given to me. Everything that I have, everything that I can give to you, Ollie, and the rest of the men in that distillery, is because of what I do. This world that we live in darling? You think that's fair? Nah... that ain't fair. If you want anything in this life... you need to take it. Grab it with both hands and never let go and never let anyone else take it. This is the way this world works beloved. This. This is what you signed up for. Now either grow up... or don't come back to the office."

You breath stopped. You didn't even consider that option. You felt more tears fall as you turn to face the window again. The rest of the car ride was in agonizing silence. You hated every minute. Alfie made no noise except a huff. After an infinity, you finally reached your home before you could move Alfie put his hand out, "Don't get up yet."

He grumbled as he got out of the car, looked around at both ends of the street, and then went to your door, opening it and helping you out. You refused to meet his eyes but you took his hand. You also let him walk you to the door, and as you reached for the door, you hear him cough and say, "I want you back at the office treacle alright? Course I do. But you really need to decide whether you can handle this. I hate seeing you upset I do darling. But this is who I am. This is the business. Now you need to decide if you can do it. Alright?"

You nodded your head limply. He just patted your head, feeling sick in his stomach, "Alright then. I'll know your answer if I don't see you tomorrow. Good night sweet heart."

"Goodnight Alfie." You whispered, turning your back quickly to run upstairs. Alfie would drive home in complete silence that night, agonizing about what would happen.

You ran past your whole family gathered around mending the laundry in the sitting room. You refused to tell you mother what happened, and didn't let Eli in your room. When your younger sister asked you what was wrong, you just cried in her chubby baby arms, while she patted your head with her child palms. You cried in your pillow, reliving the vision you saw, wondering what to do. You didn't want to see that kind of violence, you had never seen anything like that. But you loved this job. You loved your freedom. You loved spending time in the office, laughing with Alfie and meeting new people. You tossed and turned all night, but sleep would not take you. It was well past midnight when you finally felt the exhaustion of the day creep its' fingers over your eyes.

And then you smelled the smoke.

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia

[kenmakodz]

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

14. BANNED </3

-> a bit of a timeskip! not long, just shortly after the group (trademark) left to go home. yuuta is still extremely embarrassed HAHA, anytime someone mentions him being jealous of yuuji his whole face turns red. toge loves it.

-> hi!!! i am SO sorry for the little hiatus, i had some insane writers block along with schoolwork, i also got a new job :D i'm a server at a banquet hall for weddings now and feel cool asf fr (i have to wear a tie every day. save me.) BUT anyways we should be back on track now, sorry if this seems like filler i swear it's going somewhere help

previous, masterlist, next [15. ???]

taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hanyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11 @marifujioka @nyxlai @sonicsolos @saltypuffin1040 @r0ckst4rjk @h8ani @lmaolmaolmao @maya-maya-56 @mittensdun @adrenova @pnkblueberry @morgyyyyyyy @chososwh0r3 @lunecqm @r4veeen @arivsx @levlucs-kiru @mellozhi @sad-darksoul @ichorstainedskin @phoenix-eclipses @h3xi2g0n3 @eternalalmondd @en40p @love-jelly @kaeichi @vianna99 @dreamxiing @satoryaa @0range-juiceee @you-always-made-me-blush @casabaswrld @jjk-men @luaqsv

if you are in bold, i am unable to tag you :( and if i forgot to add you, PLEASE YELL AT ME

⤷ © kenmakodz

[zodiyack]

Flowers

Pairings: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Request: reader who would always give eddie hand picked flowers because she liked him but once they got to high school they went their separate ways until eddies birthday when he wakes up and flowers are waiting for him outside his door

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Taglist: @dpaccione, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @sebby-staan​ sorry i forgot to add others, i posted this directly from my drafts

As the little boy brushed the dirt from his knees, he felt a presence looming above him. This presence did not instill fear, but joy. He knew this presence. He looked up to meet the eyes of the girl he'd been thinking about all morning.

She greeted him with a shy smile and reached out to help him up, her other hand behind her back with items hidden. "You're quite clumsy, Eddie."

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks beet red as he avoided her eyes. "I just tripped, that's all."

Her laugh made his stomach churn with butterflies. "Here, I picked these from my mother's garden for you." He watched her move her other arm out with a little bouquet of mixed flowers. Every day she gave him one, different flower combinations each time. Happily, he accepted the gift and thought to himself nervously.

Just as he was about to lean in and peck her on cheek, her mother called her inside, causing her to smile at him softly and walk away after telling him goodbye. Little Eddie beat himself up every day for years for that missed opportunity.

Eddie sighed and dragged himself out of bed, his heart heavy with the love that never died. He fell for her long ago, but she was gone now. The last time he saw her was a week before highschool started. The two were so excited about becoming freshmen, but the excitement didn't last long. She moved away and his heart shattered.

"Eddie... I have to tell you something." She sighed, avoiding his eyes as to not worry him with her glossy ones.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I..." Her voice quivered for a second, ripping Eddie's attention away from the log he was attempting to balance on. "I'm moving in a few days."

At first he laughed, denial at its finest. But then he saw her face. Nose red from crying, eyes watering to the brims, bags under her eyes. How had he not noticed? "W-what?"

"I don't want to...but my mom...we have to move." She wiped her tears away and reached behind her. Another bouquet. He'd received one every day since they met. Unfortunately he had a daunting feeling that this would be one of the last ones. "Remember me whenever you see flowers, yeah?"

He nodded, staring at the flowers in his hand. She sniffled and moved to go around him, but she was caught off-guard as he pulled her into him, the scent of nature and honey filling his senses, smoke and cologne filling hers. Neither of them wanted to let go, but the time came when they were required to go their separate ways.

Eddie looked into her eyes, her e/c orbs taunting him, her lips tempting. He was about to lean in, when the opportunity slipped by once again, his uncle calling out and him cursing the man under his breath in return. They hugged each other once more and said their goodbyes.

The day of the move came, and all he could do was hug her and receive one last bouquet.

He wiped his teary eyes and got ready for the day to come. As he left the trailer, he began to dwell on the time. It was nearing his birthday, and all he could do was think about the girl who remembered it when no one else did. Just when he tried to think of anyone, anything but her, she clouded his mind.

Hellfire Club was still functional and a great topic for his focus, especially when it came to campaigns. Why not think of a new one? Perhaps one with a cute little maiden who gifts the adventurers flowers after they aid her on a side quest?

'Fuck.' Eddie thought. 'cute little maiden? Flowers?' even in his attempt to drown her out of his mind, she just kept finding ways to peek out and into the spotlight. All throughout the day, she was his main focus. His only thought.

Normally, it wasn't this bad. He had dreams about her, in fact, he'd been having them since the day she left. He couldn't pass by flowers of any type in any place for arrangement without thinking of her. The scent of any flower to exist drove his mind to her. But why was she more active in his mind lately?

Eddie got home and lied on his bed. Still no clue as to why his long lost crush suddenly became the main character of his thoughts. The curiosity kept him awake until dawn, cause and effect taking place the next night, effect having him pass out almost at the exact second his head hit the pillow. She was in his dreams that night, clearer than ever. Her smile shining and warming his heart, her laugh sending butterflies into his stomach and making his head dizzy with how flustered he was.

Reality set in once again when he woke up, shaking his head as he tried to get a grip. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and stretched as per usual. Eddie went through his morning routine, head still hostage by the girl. She was so entrancing, he forgot to eat, and tried to head directly out the door the instant he was finished getting ready.

However,

Something was in his way. Halting all thoughts and actions, Eddie looked down at the object in front of him curiously. He picked it up, closing his eyes as he inhaled through his nose. The scent was more familiar than any other he'd smelt the past few years. He moved the flowers around, the crinkle of newspaper wrapped around the homemade bouquet echoing throughout his trailer as he did so. A note slipped out from between the flowers. Shifting his attention to the loose paper, he read it carefully with a full heart.

He knew that handwriting anywhere.

"I hope these jogged your memory. I missed you." A little heart beside the last word made his own full and begin to beat faster. "Happy birthday, Eddie."

[iluwmycats]

Gonna Hunt You Down (A Colin Zabel Story) Part.2

Colin Zabel x OC!Female

( Part.1 )

Summary: After visiting Ms.Lange in the hospital, Colin goes for lunch with Hunter and tries to get to know her better. But breaking through her walls will not be easy. Because she is a tough cookie, after all. 

Word count: 4767 words

Warnings: Language, sexual tension, and too much cuteness of our beloved detective *>.<*

A/N: Hey! 👋🏼 Welcome back to this series!

Sorry, it took me a while to release this episode because -besides the fact that English is not my first language- I'm a little obsessive Virgo, so I had to correct all the mistakes carefully before release. I believe it was worth the delay.😉 Also, I'm still improving my writing skills. So, I would appreciate any suggestions about my writing. Please feel free to comment. :)

Last but not least, I mostly use italics when writing inner voices. ✨

I hope you enjoy it! <3

Taglist/ @kaismanwich @yes-divine-ruler @blackroseguzzi @witchyykitten @just-anotherstan @jetbl4ckhair99

Evan said he constantly listened to this song while on his way to the set of Mare of Easttown. Because this song reminded him of Zabe. So I wanted to add it here. Enjoy!

"We're late, Zabel. Visiting hours have already begun. Are you sure she said she's coming?"

Mare took a puff from her electronic cigarette and kicked a pebble nervously. She hadn't slept properly last night because her grandson kept coming to her bed. So now, she was a bit grumpy than usual.

"Yes, she'll come." Colin replied.

"Alright then... I'll be in the car!"

Mare took another puff from her cigarette and started complaining as she walked towards her parked car.

"If you two don't show up in three minutes, I'll go to that goddamn hospital myself!"

"Oh..kay... Sergeant." Colin spoke to himself. And then returned his watery eyes to the empty street way. He didn't want to show it too much but looked forward to seeing her again.

"C'mon... Where are you?"

And just a second later, Colin saw her at the beginning of the street.

"Finally."

Hunter was half running, half walking towards the police station. When she saw Colin, she waved as if to say, 'Here I am!'. Then she came and stood right in front of Colin, panting.

"Goo... Good morning, detective."

"Good morning."

Colin looked at this panting girl from head to toe for a while.

"Where were you?"

Hunter rested her hand on the body of the street lamp while she doubled up. Trying to regulate her breathing before talking.

"Oh, Jesus... Sorry, I'm late. I forgot to set my alarm this morning, and my mom took the truck. So I had to walk here."

"No problem," Colin replied with a soft smile. Then Hunter's red knuckles caught his eyes.

"Are you cold? Today is a bit colder than usual."

She instantly hid his hands in the pockets of his black denim jacket.

"Huh..? No worries. I got pretty warm walking."

Just then, there was a loud honking. Turning their heads, they saw Mare pulling up beside them.

"Enough with the chit-chat, ladies!" She shouted angrily at them through the open window. "We're late. Just get in the car already!"

Colin panicked but tried not to show her and continued speaking gentlemanly as if Mare hadn't just yelled at them.

"A-Alright... Looks like Mare's not in the mood today. So, let me ask you instead. Do you want to sit in the front seat or the back seat? I don't mind either way but-"

Hunter was already in the back seat as he spoke.

"Just get in the car, for God's sake!" She yelled at him, unable to stop laughing.

Colin was stunned momentarily but then quickly got into the front seat. And Mare could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

"Now... Hold on tight, or I won't be responsible for your head trauma."

And then she stepped on the gas with all her might and drove towards the hospital, not caring about leaving black tire tracks on the road.

"God dammit, Sergeant!"

As Colin hurried to fasten his seat belt, Mare wished she hadn't missed visiting hours because of these two blabbers.

When they arrived at the hospital, visiting hours were still in progress. So they stopped rushing and calmly entered the corridor where Ms.Lange was.

“Let’s hope she’s awake.” Colin murmured. With a bouquet of daisies in his hands (from the florist outside the hospital), he looked like a shy man going on a date. It made Hunter smile.

He looks pretty thoughtful. She thought. It's cute, in a way.

They kept walking along the corridor, and Mare knocked on the door when they finally found Ms.Lange’s room.

“Good morning, sunshine! Still not awake? Course, you’re awake.”

When Mare’s fake-happy voice lightened up the room, Colin and Hunter followed her inside. But… there was no one in the room. Just a few wisps of smoke floating above the bed.

“I know you’re here. I can see it in the air.” Mare said smilingly and started to walk to bed.

Since they both lived in the same town, Colin thought they could be friends. Cause that would explain the sincerity in Mare's speech.

"Ugh! Just leave me alone, would ya?"

Ms.Lange was crouched in the small space between the bed and the wall, puffing on a cigarette in distress. Colin took a few steps forward to get a better look. But instantly, he felt terrible for seeing her wet eyes and messy blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Also, she looked so small in that hospital gown.

It was hard for them to watch someone at her lowest.

"Oh... Come here, Jess."

Mare took her arm and gently laid her on the bed. And her wet eyes met Hunter's for the first time since the incident happened.

"Hey, Ms.Lange... How do you feel?" Hunter asked half-heartedly as she took timid steps toward the bed.

"I'm glad you're alive."

She didn't get on very well with her. Because Ms.Lange was also an edgy spirit. And everyone (especially Mare) knew that fire and gunpowder could never go together. But Hunter never got along with anyone. So… There was no need for drama.

Hunter was asked to protect Ms. Lange. And she did her job. That was it.

"Thank you for pounding that bastard. Now I owe you." She thanked her with an invisible smile.

Hunter laughed joyfully.

"Why don't you just double my paycheck and send it to me?"

When an amused expression appeared on Ms.Lange's pale face, Mare and Colin smiled at each other.

"Honey... Don't worry, I will."

At that moment, Colin decided that holding the bouquet of daisies in his hand this long made him look funny, so he bent down and handed it to Ms. Lange with a sweet smile.

"These are for you."

"Oh, boy... Why the bother?"

As she embraced the bouquet smilingly, Mare took the tape recorder out of her jacket pocket and sat down on the chair beside to bed with a severe expression.

"Now… If we're done with the pleasantries, let's take your statement, shall we?"

Then they started talking about the whole incident from the beginning. Mare asked Ms.Lange told. How she had been repeatedly abused by her ex-husband and the latest incident... And the reason why.

"He told me I would not have peace unless I gave up the house we bought together."

Colin was all quiet and busy listening and examining Ms.Lange's expressions.

"...And I said, fuck yourself. I'm not giving you my goddamn home!"

"Well said."

When Hunter murmured as he looked out the window, Colin's eyes immediately shifted to her. Then began to study her side profile and behind.

She was about Mare's height. And with her well-fitting leather jacket, black jeans, black boots, and dark brown hair falling down her back in a loose ponytail, she somehow resembled a biker. Colin couldn't help but wonder if her hair was as soft as it looked. Or how it would feel sliding through his fingers.

Oh, stop it, Colin! Are you a fucking pervert?

He invisibly slapped himself and turned his gaze to Ms.Lange again. But his mind was still on Hunter. A lot of strange thoughts about her had been running through his mind since yesterday.

Like, what kind of panties she wears? Does she sleep naked? Or if she likes being handcuffed during...

Colin was embarrassed just for thinking those sinful thoughts but couldn't resist anyway. He was curious asf.

"What do you blushing for, detective?"

Jesus Christ!!

Colin was startled when he heard her low voice near his left ear, surrounded by her warm breath. The hairs on the back of his neck instantly stood on. She was so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body.

"I'm not blushing." Colin muttered with panic. He wasn't even able to give her a proper look. But Hunter had been watching him all along, intensely. Since she was the one who asked.

"Were you daydreaming?"

Hunter asked again with her low voice, this time grinning mischievously. She looked so provocative to Colin for doing that.

God... Keep me sane.

He swallowed, fidgeted uncomfortably where he stood, and then crossed his arms nervously over his chest. He knew he was being AWKWARD at the moment. But he couldn't help it. He always reacted awkwardly when things he didn't expect happened around him.

"No... I don't daydream during working hours." Colin replied with a serious look, at least trying to look serious, but... Did he manage? He wasn't sure of it. Because Hunter started giggling as he finished.

"Liar."

At that moment, Mare turned over her shoulder and called, "Hey!" to them.

"We're done here. Does anyone want to add anything? Hunter?"

When Mare called her over, Hunter had to stop picking on Colin and reluctantly walked over to the bed.

"Well... I got few things to say, actually."

Colin breathed a sigh of relief when Hunter's attention turned away from him to Ms.Lange.

Oh... God, thank you.

It was a blessing for Colin. Because when Hunter had almost cornered him, Mare had intervened and saved him unwittingly.

"Ms.Lange, I have to tell you that I am really proud of you for having the courage to file a complaint against your abusive ex-husband. Since he'll go to jail, you won't be a target for him. In this case, I guess you won't need me anymore. So…"

Ms.Lange sat up from her bed a little and nodded in agreement.

"You're right. He's going to jail. But let me tell you this..."

She took a deep breath and opened her lips to tell Hunter what she had just told Mare.

"Maybe he won't be around, but his creditors will find me."

Hunter frowned in confusion, and for a moment, her eyes flickered between Mare and Colin suspiciously.

"What is that mean?"

Ms.Lange started to explain.

"I learned from one of his friends that he got a lot of money from a loan shark to fix his shitty business. That's why he wanted my house in the first place. I don't know how much he owes them, but I'm not willing to pay."

She sniffled her red nose for a second and wiped her teary eyes once again, after explaining the situation patiently.

"As you can see, the danger has not passed yet. These guys are gonna come after me to take their money. God... I was thinking of moving out of here before the accident, but now..."

"I didn't allow her." Mare intervened aggressively.

"Because we're not gonna be afraid of by a bunch of weasels!"

Now, there were sparks of enthusiasm in her eyes.

"Also, we're cops, for God's sake! Aren't we, Zabel?"

Colin nodded his head instantly, like a soldier.

"Yes, sergeant!"

All this made Hunter nervous, but it wasn't enough to scare her. Because she was not an easily frightened person and pretty good with guns. Cause she was a cop's daughter, after all.

"So... Girly, if it's okay with you, I want to keep you by my side as a bodyguard for a while longer. And Mare says you need a job. So..."

Mare's eyes looked down at her feet as she spoke the last words, and Hunter didn't say anything. Cause it was true. She needed this job.

"What do you say?" Ms.Lange asked sincerely.

And Hunter's hesitation just disappeared at that moment. Because she knew that she often struggled to find a decent job. And it's hard for her to say out loud, but… There were bills to pay and family members to feed at the end of the day. So… She wasn't going to pass up this offer.

"Well…"

After a short cough, "I'm not as cruel as to say 'no' to someone who asks me to protect her." she answered.

"Also, I'm not afraid of the bad guys you mentioned. Cuz you know, I'm the bad guy myself." She added with a cocky smile.

"So... Don't worry, Ms.Lange. I'll guard you at all costs."

Ms.Lange's eyes were shining with tears now.

"Oh... Call me Jess already, you rascal!"

Hunter reached out and attempted to shake her trembling hand with a warm smile, but suddenly, Ms.Lange threw her arms around Hunter's shoulders and hugged her tightly. Then whispered in her ears with gratitude:

"Thank you."

...

It was already lunchtime when they finished the query and threw themselves out of the hospital.

"...kay, thank you."

Mare had already called the station and asked them to send two police officers to stand guard outside the hospital until Ms.Lange was discharged.

"Well... Everything seems fine." Mare said as she put her phone in the back pocket of her pants.

"The police officers are on their way to stand guard. They will look after Ms.Lange for a couple days until she is discharged. And..."

After a long sigh, Mare continued to explain the current situation.

"The other officers will arrive soon to pick up the bastard after his treatment. I think he'll go straight to jail. So the case will be over. And, then, our new case will begin. But for now, everyone can take a deep breath."

After a short silence, Colin was the first to speak.

"Uh, Mare... Since it's lunchtime, where are we going to eat?" He asked when the hot steam from his lips formed a small cloud above his head.

"Is there a good place to get a burger or a coffee around here?"

Mare shrugged as she unlocked her car.

"I don't know about you, but I should go home for lunch. Drew is pretty ill and didn't go to school today. So... Take care of yourselves!"

"But, Detective... Won't you take us with you? Where can I go-"

Colin tried to object, but...

"Oh, stop whining, Zabe! I've given you the best guide you can ever find. What more do you need? Hunter's a local girl. And I'm sure she knows a good place."

As Hunter chuckled to Colin, Mare had already gotten into her car.

"Go eat something with her!" She shouted out with a half-smile through the window. "See you at the station." Then she left the hospital's parking lot in a hurry.

"Oh, boy..."

Hunter laughed at Colin's frightened expression. Her spirits were freaking high. Because she just realized that the poor detective was afraid to be alone with her.

"Looks like you're stuck with me."

It was the first thing Colin said to her. And... He had said it with disappointment then, but Hunter looked hella amused when she said it now.

"Oh, it's not... I mean, I'm not nervous about hanging out with you. Ever."

Colin tried to smile and acted like it was not a big deal.

But it is a BIG deal! Fuck, I just daydreamed about you. He thought in anxiety.

How can I look at your face again? God, help me.

Hunter smiled, oblivious to Colin's thoughts.

"Then it's good." She simply replied and pointed to the street ahead with her index finger.

"This way! I know a good place that makes delicious burgers and fries. But I can't say anything about coffee. I'm not a coffee person."

When Hunter started to walk that way, Colin immediately chased after her. Since he was hungry as a wolf, he just focused on the "burgers and fries" part.

For a while, they walked side by side in silence. But Colin was not a man who liked silence, so after a few minutes, he felt obliged to speak. Even if it irrelevant.

"By the way, is your name really Hunter? Or is it some kind of nickname?"

Hunter's chin twitched momentarily before she gave a reply to his unnecessary question.

"It's not a nickname. It's my real name."

She was very sensitive about her name but didn't want to make it too obvious. So she quickly dropped the issue by looking around.

However, Colin couldn't seem to let it go.

"It's a boy's name." He said casually as he looked at the houses and shops on the street. "You know that, right?"

When she felt the anger boil inside of her, she stopped walking suddenly. Didn't want to break anyone's heart over this, but...

The name issue was a BIG red button for her, and that Colin guy fucking pressed it with his broke ass. Unwittingly or not. He made her hella pissed.

"What happened?"

When he realized Hunter was no longer walking beside him, he stopped and turned around, looking curious. There were 5 steps between them, and judging by the look on his face, he clearly was unaware that he had just dropped a brick.

"Are you... kay?"

As his eyes met her piercing gaze, he felt that familiar, itchy, electric current run up from his kneecaps to his stomach.

"Detective," She broke her silence.

"I highly recommend you to be careful when you put my name on your tongue." She underlined every single word with a dangerous timbre.

"W-What?"

Colin was intimidated by the sudden seriousness of the girl laughing only five minutes ago.

"Oh... Did I say som-"

Hunter got closer and said her words straight to his face:

"This is my first and last warning to you. So, you better listen to me carefully."

She never broke eye contact with him, so Colin couldn't look away this time.

"Don't ever make fun of my name again. Or I swear I'll beat you and make sure you won't be able to pee on your own, for a long time."

Colin felt a tingling under his pants right after she finished.

Oh, God...

Her words were so powerful that he couldn't believe he had an erection just because of that.

Like how tf?!!

It wasn't supposed to be.

"Let me introduce myself properly." She continued her warning speech, oblivious to his thoughts.

"My name is Hunter. And no, it's not just for boys! Also, my dear father didn't give me this name because he thought I would be a boy. He gave me this name 'cause when he first saw me, he knew I would be a badass hunter one day."

This was a harsh outburst (and a bit rude), but strangely, it pleased Colin. Somehow, he liked being scolded by this unpredictable woman. 

"Now, if that's clear," Hunter dropped the conversation gladly as she saw Colin nod. "I'm going for lunch." They both seemed relieved at that moment.

"If you're still hungry, you can join me."

She lightly patted Colin on the arm and walked past him to the restaurant around the corner. After a few seconds of freezing, he quickly zipped up the front of his coat and called out while chasing after her:

"Thank you for, uh... warning me! Hunter... I won't do it again."

When Hunter didn't give any reaction and kept walking to the restaurant, Colin felt like a total idiot. 

Agh! Shut up already! You're such a loser.

The 'name thing' was obviously her soft spot, and she had taken out her claws to protect herself, her name. But there was no need for that. Colin had made her do it with his reckless words. And now he was feeling guilty as fuck.

When Hunter walked through the restaurant door with the sign Apple Pie'rre and disappeared, Colin rushed in and headed for the table where she was sitting. The little bell at the top of the door kept ringing after him, but it faded into the crowd after a while.

Apple Pie'rre** (imaginary place)

"Wow... This place is nice." Colin said half-smiley while sitting down in front of Hunter. His eyes were studying inside now. 

The restaurant was large and had a spacious dining area with retro double leather armchairs and wooden tables. It looked like a warm, family-friendly place. And also quite crowded at this time of day. 

The smell of burgers, coffees, and sugary treats carried by passing waiters whet Colin's appetite. 

"My father's favorite place. It was..." Hunter said quietly while studying the menu.

"He used to get us here every Sunday." 

A broken smile appeared on her face but quickly disappeared. Good memories were long gone. Would there be new ones? Hunter didn't sure.

After a long look at her, Colin mustered up the courage and said what was going on in his mind, despite the risk of getting beaten up by her.

"Well... He had a good taste, I must say."

Hunter didn't look angry or offended. On the contrary, she was just smiling contently.

"Yeah, he had."

And then she called out to the waitress at the table they were sitting at. The faltering look on her face broke Colin's heart. From what he'd observed so far, Hunter was a fun-loving, teasing girl and a bit of a hothead. But now, Colin was seeing her like this for the first time.

I think she was a little touched. He thought, looking at her teary eyes.

Another soft spot has been determined. Be careful, Zabe.

"Did you know they've been making the best burgers in this town since 1975?"

"No." Colin replied simply and did not move his eyes from her a bit.

"Well, I guess you learned just now."

"Yeah."

She tried to distract him with some unnecessary information cause she didn't want to look so fragile and small in front of him. But her plan just didn't work. Thanks to her teary eyes, now the only thing on Colin's mind was how much she cared for her father. 

Fuck! She hissed to herself and wiped her eyes quickly when Colin turned his head to the waitress that came to their table.

"Have you decided on your orders? Uh, Hunter?! How are you?"

When they started to chat, Colin's eyes studied the girl. Apparently, she is one of Hunter's friends. And she was looking exactly the opposite of Hunter. She was all in pink clothes and had short, wavy blonde hair. And she also had bracelets decorated with colorful beads and charms. And her creepy smile with 32 teeth… Let's say she just looked like she had escaped from Wonderland.

It just doesn't look like Hunter's taste, Colin thought. She probably likes being that 'dark' girl in high school.

Colin sighed as he looked at her naturally red lips. Hunter may have been a tomboyish girl, but at the same time, she was too hot to handle. And she also seemed to make it her hobby to give poor Colin mixed signals and make him feel delusional.

God knows what else.

"Oh, I think I'mma go with a double cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a big cup of cola."

"Alright... The usual order goes for my friend. And sir? What would you like to order?"

Zabel was so lost in his thoughts.

"Zabe!" When Hunter called him, he quickly downed to the earth and gave his order by saying, "Same as hers." with a nervous smile. 

As the waitress headed to the kitchen, he removed his coat and put it next to him. It was boiling inside. And also, thankfully, his boner was gone.

"I... I heard about your dad, and I'm so sorry." He dived straight into what he wanted to talk about without any fear.

"It's a shame I didn't get to meet him. I could've learned a lot from him." 

She was totally father's daughter. Colin could tell just by looking at her. But unfortunately, ten years ago, she lost her 'dear father' in a most tragic way. He learned from Mare this morning and felt terrible for her. 

Poor girl just bit the bullet and went on with her life. Colin thought.

His father was just an alcoholic abuser when her father was a hero in the state where he lived. And how could it be that a scumbag like his father was still alive, and hers was in the ground? Colin is never gonna understood that. Ever.

As Hunter's absent-minded, bereaved eyes were still looking out the window, "I wondered something." Colin continued.

"You are obviously a tough cookie. And pretty smart. Why didn't you consider becoming a detective like your old man? I mean… Mare followed in her father's footsteps and became a good detective. What about you? Didn't you ever want to?"

He now realized how badly he wanted to partner up with her. But it wasn't an option at all. 

"So... You're asking me why I ended up as a pain in the ass instead of being a brilliant detective, right?" Hunter replied with a smirk. This guy was really something else. 

"Yea-"

For a moment, Colin was relieved she didn't mind him talking about her father. But after that, he got panicked at what she said.

"No, no, no, I didn’t say that. I didn't say that you're a pain in th-"

"Slow down, detective. I'm just teasing." Hunter laughed joyfully.

"But... I bet you wished to imply it. Cause I did 'your job' at the most needed time. You must feel useless and humiliated when you arrived at that garage."

Colin didn't say anything, but the look on his face told everything. Indeed, at first, he was jealous of her, but now he only admired her.

"Anyway... Let me be clear for you, detective."

Hunter gathered all her thoughts about this topic and reached her point without haste.

"As you witnessed earlier, I have some… anger issues. If I were a cop, I probably wouldn't be able to handcuff criminals without punching the shit out of them. So I think it's good that I'm not a cop for your peace. I mean... You probably wouldn't want a problematic co-worker around you. Would you?" She ended up her speech with a tricked question as she delightfully smiled. And he couldn't take his eyes off her smile for a moment.

Actually... Colin would want her around him, as a cop or not. Cause she was right his cup of tea. But he didn't say anything, just dropped the conversation with a nervous laugh.

"Here you go!"

Just as they were about to fall into another long silence, the delicious smells of burgers and fries filled the table. And Colin suddenly came to life, his eyes wide open and unable to hide his surprise.

"Wow, that was fast!"

The waitress girl, 'Pixy' (That's what it said on her name badge.), smiled cheerfully and confessed, "I prepared your orders myself. Enjoy!"

"Pixy, you're the best! I love you!"

When she chuckled and left to take another table's order, Hunter took a massive bite of her burger and closed her eyes while chewing it slowly. Her taste buds were exploding with flavor. At that moment, she didn't care if she looked like she was having an orgasm. Cause that burger was fire. And she just wanted to enjoy it.

"You look so lovely."

Colin let his thoughts escape his lips for a moment, and when he realized what he had just said, he had a coughing fit as he focused on his following words to fix the situation. His eyes were wide open.

"I mean... You look like you're enjoying too much of that burger. It must be your favorite food.

Hunter awkwardly smiled with her full mouth and looked away shyly. Because she had just been caught in the act of her guilty pleasure.

"Is it... that obvious?"

She swallowed her bite while thinking about what she's gonna say after. And when she finished, she put the burger down and explained calmly, "Yeah, it's my favorite food. But, since I'm on a hard diet, I haven't had a burger for a long time."

"Diet?!" Colin surprised.

"You don't look like you need a diet."

Hunter took a big sip from his coke and kept explaining shyly.

"Well... Actually, I'm interested in bodybuilding."

She didn't want to tell him that fact about herself, but… She had just said it.

"It's not like... I want to be huge or be a professional. I just wanted to push my limits."

She felt insecure after saying that cause, from what she had seen so far, most men didn't approve of women's muscle building. So… She just wondered what he would think about it.

"I can see that you are ambitious," Colin said while thinking.

"If pushing your limits makes you happy, you shouldn't feel guilty about it."

"Who said I feel guilty?"

Colin kept his attitude the same.

"Then, why are you looking at me like you want me to approve you?"

The daring expression and the confident tone of his voice...

Damn!

This time, he cornered her. And made her look away.

Are you the same detective that had red cheeks earlier today? She thought in confusion. Clearly, she didn't expect that question.

It was Colin's first-ever challenge to her.

"You're a strong woman, with or without muscles." Colin continued confidently as he saw a doubtful look on her face. Now he was looking right into Hunter's eyes with his own will for the first time.

"It's nobody's business but you."

Hunter thought men were programmed to despise and criticize women all her life. Cause, with the exceptions, most men are fucking bullies, and the rest are just cowards with a hero complex. Thinking women can't do anything on their own. But it was hella wrong!

"Well..." She sighed.

No man, other than her father, had ever said such encouraging things to her. So, she felt a bit touched at that moment. Offguarded...

"You're quite a rare man, detective. Has anyone told you that before?" His speech had defeated Hunter, and Colin was aware of it.

"Nope," He smiled a little timidly. "You're the first." Then he took a bite of his burger with peace of mind, knowing that he had finally created a breach in her walls.

Oh, boy...

She couldn't help but smile mischievously as she took another sip from her coke.

I think we'll be seeing each other more often, detective.

I've got my eye on you.

Keep reading --> ( Part.3 )

Thank you for reading! 💗

It was a bit long, but I hope you liked it. The story will get better and better as it progresses. You can be sure of that. So please feel free to comment. And remember to leave a like. 😉

[ferris-the-wheel]

I want to make a new twst dorm but I don't know what movie to base it off of =^='

HAHAHA SO I FORGOT DIASOMNIA WAS BASED OFF OF SLEEPING BEAUTY (i'm very dumb ik) SO JUST IGNORE THAT ONE!

Pretty much just listed disney movies that haven't been made into official dorms or have characters already based off of them (hence why I didn't include The Princess and the Frog, because Sam is twisted from Dr. Facilier). Yeah I fucked up with Sleeping Beauty, like I said, ignore that one 😅

Feel free to give ideas for the dorm you pick (or even one you didn't pick) such as the dorm's appearance, dorm name, traits of the students, and other stuff you may think to add.

(By the way, I plan to stick to the boys-only thing, sorry, so if you want to add an oc to this dorm, please make sure it's male (and that you run it by me first obv). This is my decision, so please respect it 😓 You're welcome to have your oc wear whatever you want though (including skirts, we don't judge here!)

taglist: @edith-is-a-cat @twst-om-lover @officialdaydreamer00 @haruhar-u @lu-lul @lyle-my-beloved @xen-blank @cookiesandbiscuits @b-floyd-o-leech-b @mermaidfanficlibrary

[translatemunson]

track two — the ex tapes

warnings: not proofread. this is not a fluff series, so be ready for some angst and angry characters.

author's note: thanks for the love on track one! also, i'm creating a taglist for the series, so let me know if you want to be tagged on track three!

series masterlist

What were the odds of walking into the studio and finding your famous ex boyfriend? He doesn’t even like pop music. How the hell?

You should’ve known that you were walking into a trap when your manager told you it was an impossible to miss opportunity to explore new genres of music. But you should’ve known better that LA was smaller than Hawkins. And that, one day, you would find yourself face to face with Edward Munson.

You can’t hear what people are saying at the entrance, you’re already leaving and never looking back. To hell with the good opportunity for your career. To hell with working for Corroded Coffin. You rather work on a stupid store than write with Munson.

You open the trunk of your car and throw your guitar case there. Your journal is full of drafts of ideas you’ve crafted while in traffic. But you want it all gone and buried deep inside your bag.

“Hey, Charlie, wait!” Eddie is running in your direction, but you couldn’t care less about him. You’re just glad he’s not calling you by your real name. “Please, let’s talk.”

You get inside your car in no time. You turn the engine on and begs for the stupid car to heat up as fast as possible. You need to get the fuck out of there.

“C’mon, let’s talk.” He’s closing the distance between the two of you.

“Fuck you, Munson. No, I’m not helping you with the thing that destroyed our relationship.”

You put the car in reverse and leave the parking lot without looking back. The streets to your apartment are blurry in your mind, the anger mixing with the pain, and you only register you’re at home when you open the door and it’s greeted by a very lazy Steve.

“Edward Munson booked me to write a song for his shitty little band” you announce, throwing your bag on the kitchen table and taking your shoes off.

“Edward Munson in like Eddie the freak Munson?” Instantly Steve is up on his feet and walking towards you.

“The one and only.” You press your palms to your face. 

“Why you?” Steve knows the reason why you mostly work for the pop music field. Because even though the synthesizers and catchy melodies aren’t your thing, it’s better than working with your ex.

“Because I’m the ballad songwriter of the moment. I forgot to add Corroded Coffin on my Never Working With list, fuck me,” it’s all your fault. You might not know with which artist you’re working until you arrive at the studio, but your manager knows and keeps some of them out of your schedule. Sorry, she can’t work with you right now, but we’ll look forward to another opportunity. “My manager told me it was a good opportunity, but I just can’t!”

“Don’t do it. Or like if you want to I could take another day off and go with you. I’ll make sure to kick Munson’s ass.” Steve owns this small cafe a few blocks from your apartment. He works there most of the time, but always takes some days off to relax. Today is one of those days and you wish he was working.

“No, I’m cancelling it. Fuck him and his stupid band, I’m not getting in a studio with him.” Your body falls into the couch. “Stupid Munson.”

“Ok, it’s your call. Fancy some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Steve is your best friend. He was there when Eddie left everything behind, including you. He knew you would do anything possible to not see Eddie’s face again, but there you are, reality happening right before your eyes. He sits next to you and holds you in an awkward hug — because you’re holding your legs to your chest and hiding your face. 

Your tea gets cold. The moment you get out of your position, Steve is leaving the house to have a night out. He got your acoustic guitar from your car because he knows you’re gonna end up locked in your room writing new songs. That’s how you process your feelings.

You get some leftovers from the week, a bottle of wine and your cold tea. You refuse to let this nightmare get the best of you. So you write your heart out until you hear the phone ring. You hope it’s not Steve calling you to ask for a ride because you’re down 3 glasses of wine and driving is the last thing you wanna do.

You walk over and answer the phone.

“I’m not giving you a ride, I am-”

“Hi, sweetheart. Can we talk?”

You’re killing whoever gave your number to him. 

“Wrong number, asshole. Never call me again.”

You hang up on him and go back to your room. Pages and more pages of your feelings. You might need to find an artist to sing about it, but you do not care. You wanna drag Edward Munson in the mud because of everything he did to you. He must’ve found out you are Charlie, because there’s no way someone booked a pop songwriter for a rock band.

The phone rings again. 

“Hello?”

“Please, don’t hang up,” Eddie asks. “It’s just a business call, I promise.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Does it matter, sweetheart?” He pauses. “So, business. I can schedule a studio tomorrow morning.”

“No, Munson, I’ve told you: not working with you. Can’t you get a no for an answer?” You wish you had brought the wine glass with you.

“No, I can’t. How did you end up on songwriting? I thought you were going to college to study biology.”

“Chemistry,” you correct him. “I’ve given a song I wrote to a singer I was seeing back in Chicago, he recorded it and my name was on the credits. The song was a huge success and the next thing I know I’m moving to Los Angeles to write for other people. Why do you care?”

“And how’s that been going for you?”

“I can pay my rent and I’m saving up to leave this country. Canada, Europe perhaps. Last time I was in Hawkins I saw Wayne,” you remember the encounter with Eddie’s uncle. You were both in the same market and he called you from the end of the aisle. He looked better than the last time, and said his cousin bought him a house. “Have you visited him?”

“No, I haven’t. Been busy with writing the album and touring. But he’s coming to LA soon, I bet he would like to see you.”

“Don’t.” You stop him. “Don’t act like it’s all fine. And only a few people back in Hawkins know about Charlie Roger.”

“Who? Robin? Nancy? Steve?”

They were the ones who encouraged you to keep writing, to try to be a singer yourself, but you just couldn’t. Nancy and Robin are coming to visit you and Steve in a few weeks and you can’t wait to try to convince them to move to LA again. The gang back together. Or at least most of it.

“They know, yes. But to everyone else it is like I’ve left everything behind because of what happened.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses, Munson. State your purpose or I’m hanging up on you.”

“I wanna work with you.” He’s quick to answer you. But you can imagine him, on the other side of the line, holding his face and staring at some of the most beautiful views of the city. “Even before I knew you are Charlie, I found your lyrics really good. I mean, Charlie’s lyrics. I still loved your poems tho. I’ve been doing fine on my own for, what, 3 records now, but I need some help to finish this one. One song is all I’m asking.”

“No, I can’t. Sorry, Eddie. Goodbye.”

“Good night, sweetie.”

He hangs up before you can. 

It’s gonna be a hell of a night.

taglist: @lokiofasgard616

(message me/coment here if you wanna be tagged on future updates of the series)

[daegalfangirl]

just one word...

if you could describe him with one single feeling or emotion what would it be and why?

GENRE — written stories, interview format that conducts the story

WARNINGS — none so far but def more tba

AUTHORS NOTE — hi i don't know when these will come out or how long they'll be but this is inspired off of a tiktok i got on my fyp and literally all of the feelings were stolen off of it 😭 i wrote it all down in my notes and forgot to save the tiktok link to credit it up until now but credits to that original tiktok!! also all of these stories are meant to be smut since i'm trying to explore that field for my writing so i did not add chenle or jisung to this series, sorry!!

RECENT UPDATES — july 5th, continuing on writing jaemin's story

TAGLIST — @myaheartsmarkie (send an ask, dm, or comment to be added!)

reader survey will not be provided for this series.

❝ i don't think i'd be here without him, and for that i'm grateful. ❞

while you couldn't see much in everyone else, you saw hope in mark lee. after leaving a toxic and abusive relationship that left you in a dangerously concerning mental state mark was the one who put his feelings aside and put all of his time and energy into you. you will eternally be grateful for what he's done, but what do you do once you find out about his lifelong crush on you?

PAIRING — mark x fem!reader

GENRE(s) — angst, fluff, unrequited love (but not really)

WARNINGS — severe mental health issues for reader, mentions of suicide and self harm, discretion is advised to those who are sensitive to this kind of content

STATUS — not started

teaser | full fic

❝ awww is someone upset? gonna cry, baby? ❞

you and renjun had been friends forever considering the fact your mothers were best friends while also being neighbors. you and renjun were inseparable but your friendship consisted of teasing each other and usually irritating the other. it's all fine until someone crosses the line and somebodies feelings get hurt. it turns out the only line that was crossed was the friendship betweeen you and renjun. what do these encounters hold for the future of your friendship and will it turn to something greater?

PAIRING — renjun x fem!reader

GENRE(s) — smut, crack, fluff, angst, childhood best friends to fwb to lovers

WARNINGS — LOTS of bickering, tba

STATUS — not started

teaser | full fic

❝ it's not bad, i just think it's a little delusional to think jeno lee is the greatest being to exist. ❞

you and jeno lee know each other quite well considering your older brother is married to his older sister, but he's never been someone you took a particular interest towards. he's much too full of himself and thinks the world revolves around him. the one time you decide to attend a college party, your dynamics change after a confession. the question is, will you give him a chance?

PAIRING — jeno x fem!reader

GENRE(s) — crack, angst, fluff, smut

WARNINGS — tba

STATUS — not started

teaser | full fic

❝ out of everything i thought love could be, wishing i was in lee donghyuck's arms was definitely something i was not expecting. ❞

lee donghyuck. god, how much rage you feel when you hear that name. everyone knew that no room would ever be silent if y/n and donghyuck were in there. you were both enemies and neither of you made it a secret. but if you're both enemies, why do you feel jealousy when donghyuck shows off his new girlfriend?

PAIRING — donghyuck x fem!reader

GENRE(s) — e2l, crack, fluff, angst, smut

WARNINGS — tba

STATUS — writing (in progress)

teaser | full fic

❝ his eyes were so empty like an endless void. i just want him to know he deserves better. ❞

na jaemin and you only knew each other by mutual friends. both of you were in relationships, and both of you were unhappy. everytime you stared into his eyes you saw a mirror. jaemin unknowingly helped you end your relationship and start your journey into finding yourself. you wanted to repay the favor, but it turned out to be much more difficult than you thought. how could you so selfishly fall in love with someone who can't even love themselves?

PAIRING — jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE(s) — angst, fluff, smut

WARNINGS — tba

STATUS — writing (in progress)

teaser | full fic

daegalfangirl, 2022

[kookie-doughs]

Happy Meal

Hawks / Keigo Takami X Reader

-As a young mother YN didn't know what to do when the number 2 hero had taken the last happy meal that her son so desperately want.

Chapter 22: Family

"Kei," You pull him to the bed you share with a smile. "Thank you."

He gives you a kiss. "For what exactly I think I need you to stroke my ego."

You giggled, "Well thank you for being here for me and Sato. Thank you for letting me stay with Tenko. Thank you for giving everyone a chance."

He looks at you so tenderly, his stare making your heart skip.

"YN, I love you. Anything you want, I'll do it. And Tomura, he wasn't a lost cost. All Might saw hope, and who else would be better to change him than Sato and you. Not to mention after what he did for Sato."

"Youre letting him stay with us. That means so much to the three of us."

"He's your family." He kissed your forehead. "Despite him thinking otherwise all those years ago, I know you think of him as family. That's why you couldn't leave him that time."

"He never saw me romantically honestly. It was just attachment. No one else was there for him aside from me."

"Well he's still attached, but at least not the 'I'm going to keep you chained to me' type of attachment anymore."

"Yeah I think I like the lost dog attachment more than that."

"How are you okay after he kidnapped you though? You're not upset, you're not feeling anything."

"I was never scared of him. I trusted him. Not to mention it was my fault for leaving him that time. I could've taken him with me. I'm glad, he turned a new leaf."

"Fatherhood does that. Hell, I'm not Sato's real dad and I'm changing."

"You are his dad. You and Tenko."

"Dabi is our dog."

"You are so mean!" You laughed.

He pulls you to his chest chuckling, "They're not bad. They make it fun. It's like... we have 2 other kids."

"I wonder what's going to happen if Tenko gets a girlfriend." You giggled at the thought.

"Oh yeah I live with my ex girlfriend, who i kidnapped, her husband, who almost killed me, and our son. You wanna know what happened? Well I was a mass murderer and killed even as a kid you know just this and that. Then my ex, I got obsessed with her but she was my stepsister so it wasn't a good idea."

"That's so stupid! Why am I his stepsister?!"

"You practically were! Your dad adopted him so, siblings but not by blood. Stepsister."

"Why are you my husband?"

He smirks and pulls you closer, "Because I am. I'm going to marry you. Someday."

"You forgot to add Dabi in the story."

"Ooh, what if Dabi ends up being his partner!!"

"No."

"You're so boring."

"I'd rather not think about those two being intimate."

"Tomura is only going to love Sato. No one else. I can feel it. He's going to be our basement dweller."

"Dabi is gonna be a ladies man. Give people time to adjust, make them forget he was a villain, he'd be popular."

"Sato is gonna be the greatest hero. Imagine having so many quirks. Everyone is gonna be jealous of him."

"Are you not going back to being a hero?"

"I think I'd rather focus on family. I'm done being a hero. Been a hero since i was a kid, early retirement isnt bad."

"Who's part of that family..."

"You, Sato, Tomura, maybe another kid. Occasionally Dabi too."

You smile at him. "Tomura is family?"

"He is to you, and since we're getting married your family will be my family."

"I can't wait for our family."

Your lips met in a kiss that spoke of everything left unsaid, a celebration of your shared journey, and a promise of an everlasting connection.

Previous | Masterlist

AFTER SO LONG I FINALLY FINISHED IT! IM SORRY IF THE ENDING WASN'T GOOD BUT I COULDN'T REMEMBER THE ENDING I FIRST HAD IN MIND

But I'm so glad I got this over with😭 Im sorry it took so long

I hope the time it took to write this doesn't discourage you when I write my other stories🥲 thank you for your support I hope you continue to do so hehe

lov ya guyssss

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @faithneko @officiallykuute @pinksilk @applepie-macaroon @lolawassad @grinnwolph @nykie-love-anime

[pigeonwhumps]

Diwali cooking

Sanctuary masterlist

AMOW day 6: baking

So, I've decided I'm posting these in order of completion, not prompts, bc day 3 is definitely not complete (neither one) and I've used multiple prompts from some days anyway. And this is more cooking (and storytelling) than baking, but oh well. Enjoy!

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages @flowersarefreetherapy @amonthofwhump @poc-whump

Anita helps Lea make galub jamun, and tells her the story of Rama and Sita.

Set on the first day of Diwali, a while after Lea comes to live with Anita, Indira and Theo.

1.1k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, recovery, conditioning, implied past non-con, kidnapping, memory loss

"Lea, do you know the story of Rama and Sita?" asks Mistress Anita suddenly.

Lea glances back at Theo, who's sitting on the countertop, a smudge of coloured sand on his nose from the rangoli, talking to Mistress Indira in sign language as they make the bean curry together. He looks nervous, but he's smiling. She can't explain why the expression looks strange on him, only that it does, and it's starting to make her head hurt, watching him.

That's why they're making gulab jamun dough outside on the balcony, though. So Lea can ignore Theo if it gets too much.

"No, mistress."

"Sorry, I should've told you earlier. I forgot you didn't know. It's the origin story of Diwali, for us. Pour a little bit of milk into the bowl and mix it together with your hands." Lea pours the milk in and sticks her hands in the bowl carefully. It still doesn't feel right, getting so messy, but she does it anyway. Mistress Anita likes her doing things like this. "That's good. Add more milk if you need to, and keep kneading until it's a smooth ball. So. The story of Rama and Sita. Rama was a warrior prince, married to Sita. A demon king called Ravana, with ten heads and twenty arms, wanted to marry Sita himself, so he disguised himself as a wounded deer and appeared in the forest in front of her. Sita was worried about the animal, but it disappeared into the forest before she could ask Rama to help her with it, so he decided to find the deer himself. Before he left, he drew a magic circle around her to keep her safe. So long as she stayed within it, she'd be protected."

Lea can guess what's going to happen and her hands drop the dough, clenching and unclenching tightly. Sita's not going to be safe, is she? Mistress Anita rubs her shoulder gently.

"Hey sweetheart. It'll be okay in the end, you just wait and see. Next, Ravana shifted into a thirsty beggar, and appeared again in front of Sita. As Sita stepped out of the circle to give the beggar water, Ravana shifted back to his normal form and kidnapped her. When Rama returned empty-handed from the forest, he was shocked and confused to find Sita gone. He went searching back in the forest, and came across the monkey king, Hanuman, who agreed to help Rama search for Sita.

"Hanuman searched for days, eventually finding Sita in Ravana's prison on the island of Lanka. He took the news back to Rama, and together they gathered an army of monkeys to go to Sita's rescue.

"The battle lasted for ten days, and Ravana was winning, before finally Rama saw his chance and shot Ravana with an enchanted arrow given to him by the gods. He died, and Rama and Sita were reunited, and everyone in the kingdom lit lanterns so they could find their way home. That's why we light diyas for Diwali, and celebrate Sita's rescue and their reunion."

Lea nods and swallows, giving Mistress Anita a weak smile. All those people, celebrating Sita's escape for centuries.

And yet, when she tried to escape, all she got was punished. She doesn't even remember the escape now, but she certainly remembers the punishment. But she supposes she is only a Pet, and Sita was a princess.

Still, it's... it's awe-inspiring, Sita's story. That people still celebrate her rescue from imprisonment all these centuries later, that they remember it... there has to be something there for Pets like her, right? She didn't want her handler, she never did. She realises now how relieved she was to be sold. It was like a weight off her chest when Mistress Anita bought her, and she reunited with Theo (although he did just make things more confusing for a while). She still doesn't remember him from before, but she knows she knew him. Just as she knows now that it's a relief not to be used by her handler anymore. Her handler who she would like to find and punch in the face, and for a moment she's glad that Mistress Anita can't read minds because that thought would be worth a huge punishment from anyone.

Theo was happy to see her. And she's happy that Sita made it home.

"Sweetheart, you can stop kneading now," murmurs Mistress Anita, and Lea blinks down at the bowl. The dough is nearly flat.

It's not supposed to be flat, is it?

"Sorry, mistress."

"That's okay. What were you thinking about to cause that?"

Lea swallows. That was a direct question, she has to answer. "My– my handler, mistress."

"Fair enough. I'd quite like to punch him too." Lea blinks. That certainly wasn't the answer she was expecting. "Here. Have a sweet. It'll make you feel better."

Mistress Anita holds out a bowl of coconut chikki, a present from her colleague apparently, and Lea takes a piece hesitantly. It's hard and sweet and she loves it, has done since Mistress Anita first gave her some, but she doesn't understand why she's being given a treat this time. She hasn't done anything to earn it, she thought about hurting her former handler and she messed up the dough, if anything she deserves punishment, not a treat.

As if reading her mind, Mistress Anita says, "It's Diwali, it's a time for eating sweets. Don't worry, I'm sure we can salvage the dough. Divide it into small balls, roughly fourteen if you can, and roll them until they're completely smooth."

Lea does so, and it works. Soon it's time to go inside and make the sugar syrup, next to where Mistress Indira and Theo are working on the stove, and Lea, ignoring her headache, and with Mistress Anita's approval, reaches up and pulls Theo into a hug. He startles but returns it enthusiastically.

She hasn't initiated many hugs since she arrived here, especially not when she's not in distress, but maybe she should. It's not like Theo will hurt her, after all. Their reunion was a good thing. And his hugs really are very nice.

Theo sinks into her chest, and she strokes his hair automatically. She's not sure how she knows he likes it, she just does, and she's right.

And with the kitchen filled with the smell of spices and Theo held tight to her, warm body pressed against hers, she thinks that this place, Mistress Anita and Mistress Indira's flat, is finally starting to feel like home. It's supposed to, it's always been home because her owners live here, but it's never felt like it.

Not until now.

[seospicybin]

Omg the latest chapter was a Rollercoaster. I'm feeling so many things right now. I can't even with how chaotic it all was.

And I feel so sorry for hyunjin. He already went through it once. He doesn't need it again. Ugh.

Im mad at the characters but also not mad at you. You write so SO well and make me feel their emotions with just a few words. It's incredible.

Oh and PS. I was a part of the tag list (analovegirl) but a friend pointed out that I need to change my url. Which I did. But forgot to inform you, so you were unable to tag me. I hope I'm not being a bother by making you change my url in your tag list. Also may I please be added to permanent taglist too? Absolutely love your writing. And am gonna be waiting for anything and everything you write from now on. While also reading past works 😉

Ugh! The urge to spoil everything 😵

Ok you guys can hate on y/n all you want for now and that's exactly the aim. Y/n isn't perfect, she makes mistakes ok? She's confused and Hyunlix are freaking attractive and don't lie, you guys wouldn't know what to do either, right? 🤭

Chapter four will tell you everything so pls be patient and look forward to it 🙏🏻

Thank you for enjoying my writings, babe. I'll add your new username to permanent taglist ❤️

[byhees]

OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED I NEVER ASKED U TO CHANGE UR TAGLIST

I AM G4M3GIRL OMG I TOTALLY FORGOT AND ITS BEEN M O N T H S

ahhhhh I'm so so sorry

Can you please change it and add my "new" User instead? 😭😭😭

I am embarrassed omg

omg it’s perfectly okay!! i’ll be sure to tag your new user in my upcoming posts, thank you for all the support <3

[liwaywaydreamer]

Miss ma’am. Excuse me.

First off. How dare you…???

I barely got done reading the prologue for My Saviour and i am absolutely vibrating in my seat with excitement at the thought of future chapters. Goodness gracious. I—

All that to say, i wish you best of luck and i cannot wait to see how the story unfolds, meeting the characters and imagining the places we’ll be exploring.

New and forever fan,

Skyy

Ps: if you have one, can i please be added to your forever/permanent tag list….??? Please and thank you~~

🥺🥺 I-- thank you. To be honest with you I don't function well with compliments because I don't want to overwhelm the other person, with how I am (I am gravely a validation seeker 🥴) and yeah. I really appreciate you sending this and I hope I will deliver. I may be slow with the updates and the fact that I couldn't stop myself from dipping to another wip 🥴

Thank you Sky really, and I hope I'd see you more here 💜💜💜💜

(edit: Sorry I forgot the last part, I still don't know if I'm going to make a taglist or not coz I'm very disorganized and I know I'm going to add mature stuff in my works and I'm afraid I might be tagging minors or ageless blogs, so yeah. Just a reminder for all, it doesn't need to be exactly your age if you're uncomfortable with that, just putting 20+ will be fine. So yeah, thank youuuuuu)