#southern california i miss you

[ih8victorzelaya]

🖤

[butchcassidys]

Hi friends, I’ve been gone for like two months at this point because I moved back to California and then promptly spent way too much money on a trip to Comic Con Scotland to meet Ewan for a grand total of maybe 10 seconds and then look uggo next to him in a picture. 

Would I spend the time and money again though? Unfortunately ABSOLUTELY yes. He was so kind and gracious and the Q&A with him was 10/10 even though basically all questions that were asked had been asked before. 

But like anyways, now I’m unemployed and reeling financially but like life’s short I guess?

also the fact that he signed my magazine and then wrote obi-wan makes me wanna cry lolz

[summerssover]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊹ ִֶָ

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which you invite the boys over to sesh with you but nate can’t go a day without turning something into a competition

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, sub!reader x dom!nate x dom!chris x dom!matt, poc!reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, SMUT! oral sex (female receiving), overstimulation, foursome, fratboy!chris, asshole!nate, loverboy!matt, whoring

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓, 3.2k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙨!

rude chris makes me foam at the mouth like a fucking dog omggg give me 5 minutes with that man😭

i know im a little late but i didn’t want to give you guys half assed writing so i took my time enjoy lovesss

▐ ❝ 𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 ❞

˚𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

little feet tapping sounded over the wooden floor from your constant scurrying around in your california penthouse. you made sure that everything was nice and put away before turning off your main light and switched to the colorful ambient lighting. the sun was just starting to set, casting a nice ray of gold where you would be lounging soon, now waiting for your new friends: matt, chris, and nate to arrive.

you were a freshman attending the university of southern california for business, a native utahan, fairly new to la and desperate for friends. nate had saw you walking around campus and in a couple of his classes but didn’t pay any mind to it, that is until he caught you hitting your pen outside of the lecture hall before class.

“yo, can i hit that?”

his thick accent took you by surprise, ‘he’s definitely from up north’ you thought to yourself. you analyzed his character before moving forward with the interaction. nate had nice even features, pretty blue eyes and thick brows, not entirely sure due to them being scrunched a little. he wore a black snap back and a bright grin as he waited for you to hopefully grant him permission.

“for sure”

a couple weeks later the two of you would make it a habit to get high by the small pond on campus, talking about your lives away and prior to college, you guys bonded well together. soon you were upgraded from a school friend to a friend, friend, progressing the two of you to go to dinner after late classes, study sessions, you’d even made out a few times although just brushed it off, blaming it on the cannabis.

it wasn’t till two weeks before today when you met some of his closest friends. they were triplets, which was a little strange but cool at the same time. the first hangout with you and your new friends went better than okay hence you’d been hanging out with them everyday up to this one.

your body jolted at the sudden banging at your door. you made a quick stop in your room sliding on your slippers. “i’m coming”

the banging, only got louder the longer you took causing you to hurry to the door. “oh my god, i’m coming” you shouted again and dragged out the ‘g’ in ‘coming’.

the door finally opened revealing three immature boys giggling at god knows what. rolling your eyes you leaned on the door frame, “i said i was coming” the boys giggled again, this time a lot harder.

nate was the first one to pull you into a hug with hands resting on your lower back. “yeah we heard”

you also let out a small giggle and mushed his head into your house. you moved on to greet matt and chris next, pulling both boys into a hug at once. you hooked each arm around their necks causing your cleavage to be present right in their faces. pulling away you were met with shit eating grins, “hey” they both said in unison.

you walked further in the house with chris behind you and matt following after locking the door. nate had already made himself at home, kicking off his shoes and already claimed his spot on the lovesac near the cracked window.

while you watched the boys get settled you noticed they were missing one. “wait where the fuck is nick?”

“he’ll be here a little later, he’s out with madi” matt informed.

“oh there won’t be shit left for him” you chuckled out as you walked to your room again, retrieving your box of weed and papers along with a few of your essentials, then going to sit between matt and nate then placing the box down in the middle of the small circle that’d formed. the boys looked at the baby pink box with stickers of hello kitty and hearts scattered on it and laughed. chris picked up the pink rolling papers decorated with strawberries and matt picked the pink grinder. nate shook his head while laughing at his friends holding your belongings in the air.

“if your gonna’ laugh at my shit y’all don’t have to smoke” you rolled your eyes and snatched the grinder from matt. their laughter started to died down and you began to break up the bud into the container.

“who’s gonna’ roll?” you asked, looking around for who would be kinda enough to do you the favor and to no surprise matt was the only one to volunteer.

“i got you” he reached for the grounded up weed in your hand until his was swatted away by nate’s

“she can roll it herself matt, she’s a big girl” nate smirked at you while you sent an ‘annoyed’ glare at him.

“you’re so strange nathan” nate held his hands up in defense. “we’re your guest”

“yeah, show us how it’s done” chris butted in, staring at you with darker eyes than normal.

one thing you’ve noticed about nate was once he was under the influence he would get really flirty and you’d have a feeling he was already. chris didn’t really have an explanation, he was just naturally a horny person, in fact the first thing he said to you was a dirty joke when you met.

you began to roll the first blunt while six pairs of eyes were fixed on you making butterflies stir in your stomach, being careful not to mess up in front of them. it was one thing to have people stare at you while you tried to concentrate on something but you couldn’t go a minute without locking with a pair of blue orbs, each of them filled with hunger. you were now at the step where you brought the blunt up to your glossed lips, slowly licking a strip of the paper then folding and sealing it.

you heard a shuffle to the right of you, making you look to matt and notice that he had an pillow over his lap. you only chuckled and went back to sparking the freshly rolled joint then taking a long drag and passing it off to nate.

“took you long enough” chris teased you while it was nate’s turn to take a hit from the joint. you blew your smoke directly in chris’ face. “maybe you should’ve done it then”

“watching you lick all over the wood was worth the wait” chris laughed out as the rest of the boys joined in again, causing you to smack your teeth. “nate, skip him”

the rotation carried on for about four more blunts. your living room was fogged up and the sun was fully at rest and replaced with millions of tiny stars and everyone was for sure feeling it. chris and nate would not stop talking about the most random shit, literally just pulling things to say out of their asses while you and matt were on the chiller side but still engaging in conversation with your head laying on the pillow still in matt’s lap and your legs over nate’s who’d gotten a little jealous at how comfortably you lounged on matt.

you began tuning out the chatter and thought about this moment in your life. you’d never imagined yourself in la, surrounded by gorgeous men, drugs and good music, you felt like this wasn’t real life, like this was a dream and you’re enjoying every part of it.

“y/n, out of all of us who would you fuck?” nate dropped his hand to your leg that sat on his lap and gently rubbed it. matt’s fingers that’d been fidgeting in your curls fell as you lifted your head up to look at nate, his question catching you way off guard.

“woah what, did i miss something?”

“just answer the question, it’s me right?” chris crossed his arms and manspread in the second lovesac across from the couch you and matt were on.

“bro y/n/n would fuck me in a heart beat, tell em’” nate shook your legs a little.

“nate, your like three feet tall, she doesn’t want to fuck you i promise” you, matt, and chris cackled at nate’s offense to matt’s comment.

“doesn’t matter, what i’m lacking in height, i’m packing in length, can you say the same?” nate shot back at matt.

“not gone’ lie i would respectfully fuck all of you” there was a quick pause, shocking the boys (not really), hell shocking yourself, but everyone was having fun and getting really touchy so you thought ‘why not throw it out there’.

“bet i could make you cum the fastest though” nate wore a cocky grin and his hand on your thigh rose higher and higher.

“no fucking shot” chris argued.

“nah you gotta specify, there’s lots of ways you could get her to cum” matt added.

“if im fucking her i’ll give it maybe eight minutes, six if i’m raw doggin’ it” the boys debated like you weren’t even there, discussing all the ways they would make you cum and at what speed. you shifted in your spot and squeeze legs together at the heat pooling between them.

“i could definitely have her squirting by just sucking on her clit in four” they used such vulgar language and talked about such intimate acts like a group project. you were in complete heat, needing someone now, anyone.

“you good over there y/n/n?” chris asked you with a similar smirk to nate’s. he looked so good right now, all of them did.

“yeah, i’m fine”

“you think you can help us settle this, beautiful?” nate finished chris’ thought. the sexual tension in the room was now very high and everyone seemed eager for your response. thinking about this logically you knew that the boys were pretty good people and they weren’t the type of guys to record or do anything without your consent, you hoped.

“fuck it”

matt’s eyes looked as if they could pop out of his head. “are you serious right now? there’s no pressure or anything”

“matt shut the fuck up, she gave us her answer” chris jumped up after ashing the blunt and setting it aside.

“perfect” nate push your legs off of his lap and stood in front of you while you got up from your spot as well. nate started by pulling your shorts down and spreading your legs. “keep ‘em’ just like that for me” he whisper to you then took a step back

“damn, yo come look, she’s fuckin’ soaked” nate waves matt and chris over to get a good look at your dripping cunt while you could do nothing but giggle at the feeling of your head spinning, still violently high.

“oh shit, no panties either? good girl” chris looked up at you through his lashes then back to your heat and slid his fingers around your pussy, gathering all your juices and spreading it around your bundle of nerves, earning some whimpers in the process and you clench around nothing, already missing his touch.

“aw, she’s so needy” matt mumbled as he lifted your shirt over your head and unclipped your bra. you were now completely exposed in front of the window that overlooked the city and your chest heaved at the torture of them making you wait.

“wait we need a blind fold or something, i’ll be back” matt disappeared into your room for what felt like a lifetime after coming back with the satin scarf you used to protect your hair at night. he gently covered your eyes with the scarf and tied it behind your head.

“that too tight for you?” you mumbled a quick no and prayed that’d would be your last question before one of them would make a move.

“ready?” you didn’t know who that came from but you were so fed up by now that you didn’t even care. “yes, please”

with no warning you felt a tongue meet your core and repeatedly flick your clit, bringing soft moans out of you in an instant and your hands clinging to their hair.

cold hands were brought to either side of your lips, spreading them open, allowing room for his tongue to devour your walls while you could also feel hands groping and messaging on your tits and kisses on your neck, being hit with so much pleasure at once.

the point of their nose bumped against you while his tongue lapped up your slick and applied more pressure. you threw your head back and your legs started to tremble as you whined through your pleasure.

“time, time” you heard chris say before who had to be nate’s tongue pulling away from you. you remember that matt wore rings today, definitely looking forward to that.

“look bro, what’d i tell you” the three boys watched as you squirmed, whined, and clenched at the unwanted emptiness. a thick stream of cum began to pour out of you and you flinched at nate’s fingers stretching your folds back out, showcasing your pink pussy.

“so fucking pretty, good job baby” nate placed one last kiss to you core. you heard him shuffle from his knees and be replaced with a new pair. you had a feeling it was chris’ turn once a thumb messaged your clit and a tongue plunged beep in your core. your arm flung to the back of the couch as you squealed from just coming down from your orgasm.

“ughh, fuck” your words slurred out, stroking chris’ ego. he removes his thumb from your clit and stretched his arm to your chest, toying with your right nipple while another hand toyed with your left one. your breath got caught in your throat causing you to choke out a series of moans as chris slurped up your arousal.

chris’ mouth detached from you, “she came, gimme that” he hurriedly spat out to matt and nate, leading him to pause the timer.

“shit, three minutes” nate and chris laughed as they dapped each other up then did the same with matt. “not yet tho, matt about to go”

“you just told her, fucking idiot” chris chuckled as mat began to crouch between your legs.

“no i can’t do it” you whined and squeezed your legs shut. “s’ too much”

nate huffed and brushed the stray curls on your forehead back. “yes you can baby, you got it”

“i don’t have to, if you can’t handle it, okay sweetheart” matt comforts your strained leg muscles by pulling them back to the ground and rubbing your knee, still shaking from your pervious releases.

“matt she’s fine, go ahead” nate waved you off once he decided you had enough time to rest.

“i’m not touching her if she’s doesn’t want me to”

chris dramatically huffed at the stand still they were in. “bro, common, you want to be the only one to not make her cum, like a little bitch? that’s fucking embarrassing matt”

“shut the fuck” nate raised his tone, not wanting the brothers to start an argument while your bare ass was out. “she never said that” nate turned back to you as you’re just now catching your breath. “you still want matt too don’t cha’ sweetheart?” the words rolled off of his tongue so smoothly and it was like his voice scratched your brain so nicely and who were you to be the buzzkill, you’d all probably just laugh about it in the future anyways.

“mhm”

“you can do a little better than that mama” chris whispered and kissed behind your right ear while nate did the same on the other. their actions alone made you wet all over again and matt’s gaze sent tingles to your heat.

“matt, please i need you so bad”

“yea that’s what we like to hear, now you wanna’ show matt that pretty pussy of yours” nate pried a hand between the gap of your thighs and you allowed him to do so. your mind was so clouded that nothing mattered anymore, you wanted them to use you however they wanted and for as long as they wanted.

“hold her leg chris”

a small smile formed at your lips once matt enclosed his soft lips around your bud and sucked gently before he added two fingers in your hole, making you gasp from the ice-like cold of the rings.

“mmh” you vocally moaned moving your hands up to grab the boys heads on either side of you as matt left nasty open mouthed kisses on your cunt. the cold metal against your pussy and your legs being restrained brought to your attention that the boys were revealing kinks you’ve never cared to explored before.

matt pulled his fingers from you and replaced them with his mouth, making obsessive slurping sounds and lapping his tongue occasionally as you poured out into him. “fuck matt right there, yes”

both arms unhooked from nate and chris’ heads to hold matt’s down, scared of the euphoric feeling leaving you at any moment now. matt had gained some confidence, getting faster and sloppier, you offering pornogrphic moans to fill the boys ears. you gasped once more at the sudden hand rubbing circles on your clit, chris, followed by a mouth sucking on your tits again, which had to be nate, you’d peeped him staring at them all night. your back arched off the couch and your painted toes curled up in the air as you let out another overstimulated squeal, your high hitting you hard are and your cum dripping down matts throat and chin.

nate and chris unrestrained you, granting you the vision you wish so badly to have during the acts. matt remained kneeled between your legs and everyone seemed to take a moment of silence to really grasp the reality of what just happened.

“that was so fuckin’ sexy y/n/n” nate complimented, creating an domino effect of the three boys praising you while scattering to find your clothes and get towels for the cleanup. you were back to being a giggling mess with flushed cheeks.

chris went to wipe you off. “so who eats pussy the best?”

you stopped to think and you honestly couldn’t choose. everything was a blur, you just sat there and enjoyed the solid they did for you, all for the fun of it. “all of you were amazing”

“bullshit” nate came back with some snacks and water bottles for all of you then grabbing the remote from the coffee table.

“im being so serious, i felt like i was in heaven the whole time” giggled before looking at the boys who surrounded your couch with you in the middle. “matt did get the best reaction though”

matt raised both hands up in victory with a mouth full of water.

“he went over five minutes that’s not fair, i want a rematch” chris refused like a child. you four cuddled up in a blanket as each of you drifted off the sleep to pirates of the caribbean playing in that back ground and highs coming down.

“was nick ever coming?” you looked to your left seeing chris and matt passed out, then to the right, nate also being passed out.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!- @worldlxvlys @ariieeesworld @muwapsturniolo @esioleren @sturn59 @junnniiieee07 @iluvmattyb @kriissy4gov @patscorner @imsosillygoofylol @sturncakez @sturnzsblog @mattslolita

[natalievoncatte]

The storm was blinding. A white torrent fell from the sky in a raging tempest, the likes of which Lena had not seen since she left Metropolis for National City. This was no mere blizzard, but a genuine thundersnow- lighting flashed eerily in the strange pink-white night as thunder buffeted the windows. The Tower’s balcony door was sealed shut against the driving storm.

They were all out there and Lena was here. There was no supervillain this time, at least, not directly- the freak blizzards rolling through Southern California and wreaking havoc on the unprepared people and infrastructure were caused by some asshole calling himself the Weather Wizard, screwing around with the Flash three states away. Lena had seen him on TV; he was a few clicks above a Condiment King-tier villain. One of the joke guys that some cape would take care of on their way to a real fight.

Or he had been, until he got his hands on some tech he wasn’t supposed to have and started punching above his weight class. Lena didn’t care about that. She was thinking about only one thing right now: Kara.

They were all out there. Kara and the others. The city was a mess; people needed heated shelters, the power was out across two thirds of the city, and Kara had already prevent hundreds of deaths on a bridge that was about to collapse from the unexpected weight of snow and the intense cold. The blizzard had come on so fast that the rush our traffic was almost literally frozen right in place.

The city needed its heroes and Lena… Lena was stuck in the Tower. Literally; there was no way to get her home in this mess and she wasn’t going to leave, and she’d sworn off the idea of putting on silly clothes and picking a made up name to go cast spells and deploy gadgets with the others.

She had a feeling… more of a quiet understanding, really, that Kara was against that, even if she never quite said it.

Finally, she saw a shape in the whirling snow as a caped figure walked up to the balcony doors. As Kara stepped inside, a blast of arctic air followed her, chilling Lena to the bone.

Kara was *shivering*.

“Kara?” said Lena. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you get cold before.”

“J-just exerting myself,” said Kara. “Alex wants me in the sunbed for a few minutes to charge back up.”

She clearly needed it. Her cape was stiff and crusted with frost and there was snow everywhere, clinging to her hair and brows. She paused for a moment, as she descended the stairs, and looked at Lena. Really looked at her- despite the chill and the frost clinging to her, her eyes were warm, the warm blue of the sky on a summer day.

“Kara?”

“Nothing, sorry,” she said.

Lena watched her pass, feeling a bit off kilter, then rushed to the kitchen. She whipped up some of Kara’s favorite hot chocolate and didn’t spare the whipped cream or a cherry on top, and piled up some donuts and cinnamon rolls beside.

Kara looked haggard, groaning as she laid down under the lamps. Her face lit up brighter than the false suns when she saw the tray Lena carried.

“Oh Rao, I could kiss you for that.”

Lena almost missed a step, smoothly recovering from her stumble instead of dumping it all on Supergirl’s crest. Kara looked at her intently, an unreadable but wide-eyed look on her face.

“I know you’re hungry. Come on, eat.”

“Can’t stay long,” Kara said, between eating entire donuts in two bites, “they need me.”

“I know,” said Lena. “They always do.”

Kara sat quietly for a while, eating, and it made Lena feel more at ease to see some color coming back into her cheeks, even if the snowmelt wetted her hair. Absently, Lena brushed a damp lock out of Kara’s eyes.

“Are you going back out?”

Kara nodded. “I have to. They need me in five places at once. The city is completely unprepared for something like this.”

“I wish I could help.”

“You are helping.”

Lena sighed. “I could do more, you know. I’m starting to master the magic, and now that the Foundation is going strong, I can whip up tech pretty fast.”

Kara sighed and sat up. “I know, but I need you here. I can’t be distracted by worrying about your safety all the time.”

“You wouldn’t say that to Alex. Or J’onn. Or Nia.”

Kara let out an exasperated sound, but her voice was very soft. “It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena tried to swallow but her throat clenched, and she fought down the sensation of her heart doing a backflip. Kara rose from the bed and stood to her full height, and Lena was once again taken aback by how dashing and heroic she looked in her suit, like a modern day knight. It made her feel strangely small in a way that she didn’t dislike.

Kara carefully took Lena’s hands in her own, tenderly rubbing the pads of her thumbs over Lena’s knuckles, sending chilling shocks up her arms.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Kara nodded and departed, rushing out of the Tower and back into the storm.

She was gone for hours again. Everyone checked in with Lena periodically, and eventually, Lena found a couch to lay on and curled up under a cardigan as a blanket. J’onn made this place much more comfy than the DEO, she gave him that.

Kara breezed back in sometime after dawn, trudging back inside, ice-caked and frost-encrusted, pale and worn down. She headed right for the kitchen.

Lena padded after her in her stocking feet.

Kara sighed. “Alex, Nia, and Brainy at helping with the shelters. J’onn is out there… there’s roof collapses and accordion wrecks and fires and people trapped. It’s going to be days of this, cleaning it up. How does a blizzard start fires.”

Planting a hand on the fridge, Kara leaned on it and sighed.

“How much time do you have?”

“Now that the sun is up, I don’t need the bed. I can just pop up above the cloud cover if I need it. I just wanted to get warm for a minute.”

“Sit,” said Lena.

Kara sat. Lena made more hot chocolate. The donuts had run out, so Lena tore open more of the little powdered cocoa packets and kept on making more until Kara waved her off.

“Are you getting warmed up?” said Lena.

The way Kara looked at her spoke volumes, but Lena couldn’t read them.

“Yes. I have to go.”

“Okay, but after this is over, you owe me some alone time.”

Kara smiled. “It’s a date.”

They both froze. It was a common phrase, an ordinary idiom, but it felt like something had just… unveiled itself, like fog rolling back from an unknown, verdant country. Kara was blushing scarlet.

“I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” said Lena.

She had to do this before she lost the nerve. She rushed around the kitchen island and rushed to Kara’s side, pressing a hand on her shoulder, and rose up on her tippy toes to press a kiss to Kara’s cheek- or rather, the side of her mouth, just this side of a real kiss. Kara went stock still and Lena thought for a moment that she’d done something terrible, misread the moment, but she could roll it back, play it off as a friendly gesture.

A hand, soft as silk and warm as honey, cupped Lena’s cheek and tilted her chin up, so her gaze met the boundless depths of Kara’s eyes, so full of welling emotion that Lena could drown in them.

“Wait for me.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone, giving herself back to the tempest outside.

Lena waited for her. It was hours again. The snow finally slowed, the sky beginning to lighten as the artificial snow weather patterns shifted back to normal and nature reasserted itself. The city would be in for a shock- it was going to be in the seventies by the next day.

Kara looked utterly worn out when she came back, finally, trudging down from the balcony with her shoulders slumped and her hair hanging in ragged wet clumps from her head as her cape drooped with moisture.

“You waited,” she said.

“I did. Let’s get you dry, huh?”

Lena worked a towel over Kara’s head, more than a little jealous as the effortless way her golden hair formed those beautiful lose curls as the water was wrung out of them, giving her a salon perfect finish with absolutely no work.

One that was done, Kara merely had to remove her suit to shed the rest of the water in a puddle at her feet, leaving her standing there in sweats and a cute fluffy kitten shirt that she had first ironically gifted to Lena and then stolen back, but only after Lena had worn it a few times.

“I’m so tired,” said Kara.

“I know, darling,” said Lena. “Plenty of places to get some rest here. J’onn made his superhero hideout cosy.”

“I don’t want to rest,” said Kara.

Lena’s heart began to pound. She knew deep down that she wanted this, but it seemed so distant and remote that she’d nearly given up even fantasizing about it. Now that Kara had revealed her identity, she no longer changed her posture or body language around Lena and stood tall, shoulders reared back and her lithe, impressive physique on full display even in cheesy loungewear.

Kara took the first step, drawing up into Lena’s space and crossing an invisible boundary, once first laid out over a brunch that was both tense and pleasant, and had been pushed and stretched and nearly broken so many times it could hardly be said to exist at all, and yet the moment she did, it was clear what was happening.

Kara was not putting her arms around Lena’s waist in a platonic gesture. The embrace she pulled her into was not what friends are for. The natural way they slotted together and Kara brushed her lips against Lena’s to ask permission was in no way friendly.

Lena rose a little on the balls of her feet and turned whatever this was into a real kiss, and Kara kissed her back. Kara’s hands roamed down over Lena’s backside before she realized what she was doing and the shot back up to a chaste spot on Lena’s back, prompting her to giggle into Kara’s mouth.

“Miss Danvers,” said Lena, “did you just grab my ass?”

“I… umm…”

Lena grinned. “Yes. Just say yes.”

“I actually wanted to ask you out on a real date first.”

Lena snorted. “Kara, we’ve been on a date for five years. Now, pick me up and carry me somewhere private already.”

Grinning, Kara picked her right up off her feet.

[kisses4kaia]

‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON… .ᐟ

synopsis—you visit your hometown for the holidays and the man who’s smile you’ve been missing has been missing you, too.

pairing—highschoolsweetheart!billy x reader

a/n—merry christmas !! happy holidays !! plz enjoy this rushed christmas special with our favorite cowboy. ❤️

—

“NO FUCKING WAY,” are the first words you’re met with as billy wearily opens the door you pounded on just moments ago. his expression, once groggy and obviously sleep-ridden, now wide awake at the sight of you.

“well, are you going to let me in, cowboy, or are you gonna leave me out here in the snow?” you tease, nose a dusty shade of maroon, bitten with the brutal winters cold, and billy cannot believe his eyes.

he picks his jaw up and nods quickly, opening the door wider for you and rendering himself speechless.

he never thought he would see you again, not after you moved to california to pursue your dreams of becoming a writer. he’d reckoned you would’ve been married by now, had children of your own. children you and billy had planned to have two of. a boy and a girl, a quiet life—and save for scarce letter from time to time, he had no idea how or where you were, and frankly, you were on his mind all the time.

“how? when? why?” billy’s eyebrows are furrowed as he watches you shrug off your heavy winters coat from your shoulders and hang it onto the old coat rack.

nothings changed in his house from since when you were an adolescent, save for the tattered couch that was once pushed against the wall now sitting in the middle of the room, facing the kitchen. other than that, the small, yet cozy, cottage felt like a time capsule—your memories from oh, so long ago suddenly feel like a decade hasn’t passed. like if you’d stayed, the world wouldn’t stop spinning, nor would your life end. you pushed the thought away.

instead, you laugh at the questions, because frankly you’d expected a much different reaction from him when you’d returned to the town you loved so much. “well, i got here on a horse,” you began, already cracking a joke. “as for when, i made it in town last night. and… i just felt like it. that suffice for you?” billy noticed your soft southern accent remained, though you had spent so long away from your beloved hometown.

“where are you staying?” yet another question from billy, but you didn’t mind, for, you were just grateful to see him.

“i’m staying at my parents house. you know it’s the funniest thing, i took the long way there… but the road not taken looks real good now. you know, considering the ass-freezing cold,” you jest again and billy finally cracks a smile. “you know i’ve missed you,” he says, and you pout to contain a smile. “yeah, i missed you, too. why do you think i came all this way? to get a cup of sugar?” you quipped again, never taking anything too seriously.

and there it is. that’s exactly what billy loved about you. so light-hearted, so good. even when he did things he deemed unforgivable, you were always there to highlight the brightness in his heart, to be the brightness in his heart. everything was whole with you, and billy can’t help but pull you into a tight, yearning, embrace. you reciprocate the energy and hug him back just as passionately.

and after a cup of hot coffee and catching up on one another’s lives by the burning fireplace, you end up on the floor, head resting back onto billy’s chest, bodies forming a T shape. “there was this girl called alice, and this other one called barbara, but uh… they were no good,” billy says after asking if you indeed had gotten married and had kids, to which your answer was a strong no, reasoning you didn’t have time for it, yet.

you kiss your teeth and chuckle humorlessly at billy’s unwarranted confession. “if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone, i would’ve asked you,” with the sting in your tone, billy could sense he messed up. because of course you wouldn’t want to hear about other women. billy was uneducated, not dense.

“i’m sorry,” he sighs sincerely, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “it’s okay, i mean, it’s only natural you’re gonna meet other women, i’ve been gone a good while.” you nod, allowing a false smile to dance onto your lips, throat pounding as you try mightily to keep tears from pricking at your eyes.

“hey, i want you. i always have, since the day we met. and you’re here now, aren’t you, baby? it’s just us, hm?” the endearing nickname slips, but you don’t correct him. after all, he was the only soul who could tell which smiles you were faking. “i’m only here for the weekend,” you look up at him, eyes honest and big, vulnerable and almost naïve. he smiles down at you, not turned off in the slightest by the very short amount of time he had with you. “well then, i guess we just have to make it count, right?”

you smile and stand, wordlessly making your way over to where, if memory serves you well, his bedroom is. lo and behold, the room is his, you know by the window being in the same place you remember staring out of while billy played with your hair as your ear pressed to his chest. difference is, the once full-sized bed has been replaced with a king—checks out, you’d taken a mental note earlier of how tall he’s gotten.

billy’s entering the room not long after you, and when he comes closer, places his hands on your waist, forehead pressed against yours, lips just a whisker away from one another’s, he asks. “can i… can i kiss you?” and you smile, because even now, when you’re full grown adults, he’s still nervous to even kiss you without audible permission. “please,”

and it’s like fireworks went off when you feel warm, coffee flavored, familiar lips on yours. god, you’d almost forgotten how much you missed kissing him. your hands tangled in his hair as he walked you back onto the bed, laying you down and not daring to pull away from your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse.

your tongue swiped his bottom lip, a beg for entrance, and he so graciously let his mouth to fall open slightly, allowing your tongue to meet with his. hastily, billy rods you of all your garments, before allowing you to help him strip himself. he only disconnected his lips from yours when he kissed down to your jaw, to your neck and to your clavicle, finding your sweet spot on your collarbone.

his hands trail down your abdomen, coming to a stop at your core, fingers drawing fast circles onto your clit, and you can’t help but moan. “fuck, billy, please, please fuck me, i‘ve missed you so much,” he smiles as he presses a kiss to your cheek, before he pushes his middle finger into your tight cunt. he lets out a groan himself at the squeeze. “fuck baby,” he breathes out, before beginning to pump the digit in and out of you, your pussy getting wetter by the second. and when he adds in another finger, curls both of them upwards to press against that one spongy spot inside of you, you come undone almost immediately. “that’s it, attagirl. cum on my fingers all pretty for me, yeah?” and you’re still desperate for billy’s cock even after your orgasm.

“billy, please,” you whine as you watch him lick the arousal off of his fingers, moaning at the taste, and he just coos at you reassuringly. “i know, baby, i know. just wanted to taste you first,” and when he finally pushes his aching cock into your impossibly tight cunt before bottoming out, you moan gutturally, and a breathy “fuck,” leaves billy. he gives you a moment to adjust to his size—necessary due to your long time spent away from his cock—before slowly beginning to move again.

for your sake, he tried to hold back, go at a pace slow enough that won’t leave your legs out of order for a week, but when you’re moaning underneath him so pretty like that? how was he expected to do anything but fuck you into the mattress like the world was ending? “billy, fuck, please, don’t stop—shit! i’m—ngh—i’m gonna cum, billy, holy fuck!” and it’s with a loud, sinful, moan that you squeeze around him incomprehensibly tight, like a fucking vice, billy thinks, and cum around his dick. he’s right behind you, looking down at where your bodies meet and seeing a creamy ring form at the base of his own cock. i did that, he thinks, and with your nails painfully dragging down his back, with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, with just you being in his fucking presence, he pulls out of your pussy and strokes himself a few times, before painting you with warm, white ribbons of his own release.

wordlessly, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. he runs a towel under warm water and cleans you up carefully, all before preparing a bath for the pair of you.

and when all is said and done, when the world is quiet and you are wrapped up in an old flannel of his, paired with his boxers, sitting on his bed, billy holds you close, and begins humming a song you aren’t familiar with, but the voice from which the tune flows out of is nothing but intimate, close.

“what’s the real reason you came back?” billy stops his humming, and you can only smile.

“because, billy, it always leads to you in my hometown.”

[megamindsecretlair]

Camp Wanderlust, Part 1

Pairing: Camp Counselor!Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, one use of n-word, kissing, mentions of female and male anatomy. FLUFF.

Summary: Welcome to Camp Wanderlust! We're so glad you're here! Inner city kids have been granted the opportunity to spend their summer here, getting introduced to a new world. You and Franklin are camp counselors who can't seem to stop ogling each other.

Word Count: 6,966k

Part 2

A/N: I have no clue where this idea came from but I couldn't stop thinking about college Franklin and how adorable he is! I miss him! So enjoy this new mini-series. I'm also zooted so all mistakes are on me. Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @nerdieforpedro @bratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii

The cool cotton shirt was already starting to stick to your skin. You fanned yourself, wondering if you had enough time to make it back to the cabin before the bus got here. You couldn’t find your scrunchie and your braids were starting to itch as sweat threaded around the parts. 

Girls stood to your left, guys stood to your right, all nervous and full of energy. Orientation started three days ago as everyone met each other, went over rules and regulations, and then had real fun later that night as flasks and mini bottles of booze were passed around. 

The owners of the camp were a silly white couple who just loved to help inner city kids. They stood off to the side from the group of counselors looking like concerned citizens complaining about a large group of Black folk for no reason. They were nice and all, but funny how their compassion only extended to the kids. Every counselor here came from colleges all around Southern California. Not one street kid.

You had never been to camp though and you had to admit, this was a nice way to show inner city kids that there was more to life than weed and going to jail. You switched your weight to your other hip, looking behind you for the hundredth time.

“You lookin’ for your boyfriend?” Dana, your bunk mate, nudged you with her elbow. She was a really pretty, dark-skinned woman with good hair. Her afro was fluffed out and shining in the morning sun. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. 

“Franklin,” she said, drawing his name out in a song. 

You giggled and shook your head, nervously looking around to make sure no one heard her. Despite what she kept insisting, you were not going to throw yourself at Franklin Saint. Your eyes sought him out but if you looked any longer, it would be too obvious. You snatched your eyes away from your right side and looked at Dana.

“No,” you said. “Not happening.” 

Once everyone found out that nearly everyone was single, the energy shifted in the room. People started eyeing each other in a new light. Now hookups were dancing through people’s eyes, eyes drooping below the chaste limit, seeking out the most pleasurable mate for your time at camp. 

Where else were you going to find people who got you? Certainly not at your respective schools where it felt criminal to be seen consorting with your fellow Negro. If two gathered in a space, it was a warning. If three or more joined, suddenly you were a gang and there were board meetings and secret handshakes banning that sort of thing.

No, here, you were surrounded by woods and a lake. Here the predominant color was as brown as the earth and just as beautiful. Here, anything could happen. So people began pairing off and gossiping. Laying claim on the curve of a hip or soft shoulders to lay on, or perhaps the way a smile made your insides flutter. 

Looking over the men, there were certainly some fine specimens. Some tall and broad, skinny and lanky, rounded and thick as molasses. But there was only one for you. He was so dreamy. 

His dark skin soaked up the sun. Such a cute, kind of shy smile. But his eyes were low and mischievous. Like he had a secret in them about you. He had worn blue jeans and a striped green shirt, the collars popped open.  

When your eyes landed on him, you were ready to drool and fall all over yourself. You had never felt that way about anyone. No one in your neighborhood, no one in your schools, and definitely no one at your college. 

And it seemed like he saw all of this float through your brain as he locked his eyes on you and smiled, dipping his chin a bit. You gave him a small smile, in shaking fear that he could see the lust on you,  and you turned away from him. 

You were not the only one to notice him. Snippets of their conversation had floated to you about the cute boy on the left. No, the far left. Girl, the one who look like my next boyfriend! 

You were not going to compete for no man. But your eyes floated to the other men, some who looked your way with genuine interest in your curvy body, and they just weren’t doing it for you. They didn’t set your palms sweating or chest heaving or pussy throbbing. Well, there were maybe one or two you wouldn’t mind entertaining the next four weeks. Let someone else have that man.

Except he had made his way to you. He had introduced himself, voice low and full of dark promises. He had made you laugh and roll your eyes, twist your hair, and find ways to touch him. You had talked all night, completely ignoring everyone else who pointed and gossiped and wondered about you two. 

A bus horn honked twice and you flinched as your thoughts snapped back to reality. You did not need flashbacks of that night, finding out everything you could about each other. Bus after bus pulled into the turnabout to offload a flood of preteens. They brought a jittery nervous air to the balmy June day that were directly at odds. 

Your eyes scanned the kids as they clutched their little sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks too heavy for them. They weren’t quite that loud yet. The extroverts had already found each other, forming up groups and surpassing that line between the “popular kids” and the “weird” ones. You weren’t sure who was in your group yet, but you hoped they weren’t little shits. 

The owners of the camp, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman but you can call us Doug and Anne, erupted into excited giggles and clapped their hands. Some of the counselors began hiding smirks and smiles and giving each other the Look. 

“Welcome to Camp Wanderlust!” Anne yelled in the too quiet air. Nature hadn’t been encroached upon today and was taking its time waking up. The arrival of kids to run across the ground or play in its leaves were a new addition and nature needed a minute. 

Anne rushed forward and waved. “We are so excited that you’re here. How excited are you?” Anne continued. 

The popular kids cheered and threw their hands in the air while the shy ones stood there staring straight ahead like zombies. Maybe they just weren’t morning kids. Because you sure as shit wasn’t a morning person. 

Anne began to list off some welcome bullshit about learning and having fun and going swimming, supervised of course. About making lifelong friends because you could keep in touch with letters. Building bonds and telling some good stories while you’re at it.

She talked about how the cabins were divided. For their safety, girls and boys are in completely separate cabins and lights out at 10pm sharp. No one was allowed outside at night without a chaperone. They were free to go to the bathroom but it was straight back to bed. 

She told them the names of each cabin and the cabin badges were important to remember. Doug came forward with a clipboard and started to rabble off badges, cabin numbers, and their assigned counselors.

In unison, you all waved to the kids with bright smiles and held up mini signs you made yourself yesterday. It stated your name. Three guesses on who your partner was. Doug then rattled off names and numbers. Kids began to separate and walk toward you. 

A line of girls formed in front of you, bright eyed and cute in their little pigtails and afros and braids. Some looked so painfully shy, you vowed to make sure they felt included and had fun. You thrived in college but you were a shy girl just like them. It cropped up from time to time, but you felt more yourself now than you ever did as a kid. 

Doug finished and everyone had their group. The counselors began fanning out to gain some distance and introduce themselves without yelling over a nearby group. You stayed put, not wanting to walk unnecessarily in this heat. 

You had been lined up in numerical order, so Franklin was on the opposite end from you. He faced you and you swore you saw him smile at you before turning to his group of Cabin 5 boys. You turned to your own Cabin 5 girls and gave them your name, making them say theirs and their favorite color. 

You talked some more, trying to find areas of interest where they might all intersect. You doubted you could get total consensus, but it never truly hurt to be optimistic. You took your group of ten to the Raven badge house and let them decide how to pick beds. You weren’t going to help with that. You watched as they worked to decide which bed would be theirs. The assertive ones announced which ones they wanted and if no one objected, then that was fine. The shyer girls took their time trying to be polite and give up whichever one they wanted. The whole process was over pretty quickly and you were back outside, giving them a tour and dodging other groups. 

Your eyes immediately found Franklin coming out of the cabin next door. He moved between shadow and sun as he left the cover of the cabin. He lit up, that sun hitting him all over his gorgeous body. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt with Camp Wanderlust written across the back. You wore a similar shirt and let yourself picture being snuggled up with him. 

You shook your head and faced your group, leading them out and around Camp. You showed them the shower and bathrooms, mess hall, activity tunnel which was the bridge to the rest of the camp. You showed them the Traveler bridge which took them to the lake and boat house, and finally to Curiosity Hill which led to the woods. The hill was a long slope that led to the woods proper full of bugs and small animals. 

You looked at your watch, making good time. You faced your group and started answering questions so they could get to know you. They called you pretty and asked which school you went to, your favorite color, and the like. 

“I bet ya’ll hungry, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah!” They all said, loudly. You giggled and waved for them to follow you to the mess hall. Groups were following behind you, following the unspoken signal for lunch.  You made them line up, grab a tray, and move down the line.

You told them where to sit and told them to get to know one another. You grabbed your tray and went to sit at the counselor’s table.

Dana was already there digging into her tray all neat and polite. She smiled when you sat down and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were out of the hot ass sun, finally had some water, and could eat. Why did you agree to this again? 

“You know your boyfriend been checking you out all morning,” she said. 

“Shut up with that,” you said and began eating. 

“He has! Sharonda said he told Jason that you were fine as hell,” she said. 

“And how did Sharonda hear that?” You asked.

“Supposedly, Keisha and Jason are a thing which is a little funny because Jamika said the same thing. But Keisha and Sharonda are bunk mates,” she said. 

You shook your head. “Oh, you stay ear-hustling,” you said. 

“I like information. I don’t care how I get it,” she said.

“Okay, so then who you got around here?” You asked. 

“I’m still looking. They ain’t that fine compared to Mr. Saint,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll talkin’ about her boyfriend?” Jamika asked, coming up behind you. She dropped her tray onto the table and then scooted onto the bench.  “I swear them girls already getting on my nerves. They gave me the bad little mu’fuckas,” she complained. 

“Where are ya’ll getting this boyfriend from and why are ya’ll all in my business?” You asked.

“So there’s business to be had,” Jamika said and looked at Dana. “Told ya.”

Jamika sucked her teeth and sighed dramatically. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to Jamika. 

“Ya’ll betting?” You demanded. 

“I told her there was something between ya’ll. Ya’ll must’ve met before today or something because ya’ll literally can’t keep your eyes off of each other.” 

“I said that ya’ll ain’t even had an opportunity to do anything or spend time together,” Dana said.

“Ya’ll are so foul!” You could only shake your head at the two girls who instantly clicked with you. Both were similar to each other, favoring each other’s tone and speaking in nearly the same mannerisms. They had never met and yet bonded like sisters. Somehow you got scooped up between them and you were so grateful. 

“When he lookin’ that hard? There’s always something there,” Jamika said.

“What ya’ll betting on anyway?” You asked.

“We can’t tell you that. We can’t interfere,” Jamika said.

“Is everyone in on it?” You asked.

“Everybody but you,” Dana said, cackling loud and hi-fiving Jamika. 

You shook your head, looking over to your cabin kids. They were actually talking which was a good sign but a few were still too quiet. Jamika sighed loudly as she did the same. There were two girls fussing at each other.

“Ain’t you gonna help?” Dana asked.

“Uh-uh, I wanna see who wins,” Jamika said, a little smirk on her lips. 

On the opposite side of you, you felt a tug on your braid. You turned, ready to be mad when you saw Franklin’s wide grin and his pretty eyes. The heat died down in your chest as you sighed. 

“Boy, you was finna get hurt,” you said.

“I ain’t scared of you,” he said. He scooted onto the bench with you, making you scoot over since you were on the end. Dana and Jamika threw knowing glances at each other. 

“What are you doing, Franklin?” You asked.

“Came to see you. Ain’t had a chance all day,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, dabbing your lips with your napkin. Franklin straddled the bench, smiling at you. Just staring and smiling like he could do that all day long. It unnerved you when you looked at each other like this. But you watched him right back.

“Why are you really here?” You asked.

“We’re sitting next to each other at the bonfire right?” He asked.

“You pulled my hair just to ask me that?” You meant to sound playful and teasing, but your voice was quieter than that. Filled with some other emotion like expecting a different answer. As if hair-pulling was acceptable in a different context.

He seemed to see your thoughts and he smiled.  “Just say I get to sit next to you,” he said. He leaned over and took one of your chips. You popped his hand and he yelped, rubbing his hand.

“I don’t play about my food,” you said. He laughed and shook his head, diving in for another one. You tried to pop his hand again but he kept moving it just before contact. 

He gave you another panty-melting smile. “You are so pretty, did you know?” Franklin asked.

You rolled your eyes. He got on your nerves already and you had only known him four days. “I can’t control where you sit, but I wouldn’t mind it next to me,” you said.

Franklin knocked on the bench with a wide grin. He turned to Dana and Jamika. “Ladies,” he said.

He stood up and walked back to his table where the guys whooped and hollered from where they were sitting. You had a flashback to middle school, the same age as these kids, and you felt sick. You hated when so much attention was on you and now all of the counselors were gossiping about your so-called relationship with Franklin. 

“Fuck, where do I get one of him?” Jamika asked. 

“Right, like where his brother at?” Dana echoed. You all watched Franklin’s retreat and him talking to his buddies. 

The rest of lunch was uneventful as you spoke about your groups and how you hoped the first activity went well. You cleaned up after yourselves and began to lead your groups out of the mess hall and across the land towards the activity side. There was an obstacle course set up with things to make these kids stretch their legs and build some friendships.

You walked alongside Franklin and he nudged you with his elbow. You nudged him back. You had family, you were no pushover. You lightly pushed each other all the way down to the course. You were not setting a good example for the kids.

At the course, Anne and Doug greeted everyone and told everyone about the course. She announced prizes at the end of each activity and at the month to the team with the highest scores. Anne and Doug would score the kids with input from their counselors. So it was all about playing fair and working with each other to win. 

One of the counselors, Jason, showed how hard it was to get through the course alone. He was playacting for the kids. Jason was as tall as a tree with rich ebony skin and thick muscles. Basketball guy definitely. He was built for speed and agility but he struggled. 

He returned to his group and Doug and Anne stated that they went in cabin order. Being last in line, you told the girls that they’d have a chance to search for weaknesses. They loved that idea and got a lot more interested in the rules. First, the cabin mates would introduce themselves to each other.

The girls turned completely shy, backing away from the boys. The boys returned in kind, eyeing each other with slightly nauseous faces. 

“Come on guys, what do you say?” Franklin encouraged. 

Reluctantly, a boy stepped forward and held out his hand. One of your girls did the same and they introduced themselves. You looked at Franklin. “Did you teach them that?” You asked.

“They were nervous about being here. I gave them some tips,” he said. He slanted his eyes towards you with a smirk. 

You watched as the kids opened up and started talking. Anne and Doug got the course going with kids going through it and working off the food they ate. When everyone was done, prizes were handed out. That earned them a few hours to relax in the rec room. The counselors were free to rotate shifts and watch the kids. 

It wasn’t your shift yet so you went to hang out with Dana and Jamika back in the cabins. The heat was killing you and you needed to cool off somewhere. You immediately searched for a scrunchie to get the fresh braids off of your neck.

“So we just not gon’ talk about Franklin asking our girl out?” Jamika asked. 

You laughed with your friends up to the cabin while you dodged their questions about you and Franklin. Nerves bubbled in your gut thinking about the boy with the cute smile. You couldn’t describe this feeling between you but you knew that you wanted to explore it. If only you could do it in peace.

You stared up at the stars as you sat on your log. Anne and Doug were really going all out for the experience. These kids were in for a better treat than you ever got. You didn’t have fancy white people paying for your camp stay so they could pat themselves on the back. Selective performism wasn’t around when you were growing up. 

The stars twinkled overhead, spattering the sky with little dots of light. There were more stars than you had ever seen in your life. Too much pollution where you lived and went to school. 

You sat around the campfire with half of the larger group. Anne was with your group, asking the kids about what they thought of the camp so far. Some were excited and they went around in a circle saying what they liked about it. 

You were among the first to get there. By the time Cabin 5 boys made it down, Cabin 2’s counselor was already sitting next to you. 

“No!” Franklin said when he approached. “Aye, switch places with me,” he asked.

The girl, Michella, rolled her eyes and stood up with a smirk. She hi-fived her counterpart. He smirked at the two of you. Ugh. This was so fucking childish. 

Anne missed all of it as she focused on getting her free feedback. Franklin was overwhelming. He wasn’t a big man, but he felt big. He felt larger than anyone else there. He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and listened to every kid speaking.

Every now and then, your knee would brush his. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but it only made you ache and shiver. When he stretched, you couldn’t help ogling him. Those skinny but powerful arms. The groans he made when he went a little too far. 

You licked your lips and hung your head. It wasn’t normal to be this attracted to someone, right? You wanted to snuggle into him and never leave. He could be annoying, but there were times where he seemed to be undressing you with his eyes. 

While Anne was distracted, Franklin turned his eyes to you. “Meet me later?” He asked. 

“Where? Lights out at 11 or didn’t you hear?” You asked.

“Break the rules with me, c’mon. They know we gon’ break ‘em,” he said.

You shook your head, fighting down little deranged bubbles of laughter. He wasn’t being intentionally funny, but you weren’t used to such persistence. You had your fair share of men interested in you. But it was hard trying to find worthy Black men among the sea of white people. 

“I wanna see you, alone,” he said. 

You tuned back into Anne who was giving some background on the camp and why it was named Camp Wanderlust. 

“You know everyone is talkin’ about us and taking bets,” you said.

“So? I’m trynna bet on us too,” he said. 

You shook your head. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You weren’t a goody-two-shoes but you were just as excited as the kids at being here at camp. Your mother never wanted you to go, hiding behind excuses like she thought you would be boy crazy after. Which was ridiculous. You were already married to Marcus Murray. You just knew he was going to be your husband forever. Until he moved away in second grade and you never heard from him again. You didn’t want anything to jeopardize you being here. Not even for the likes of Franklin Saint.

He smiled at you and turned to Anne.

“Of course, that’s nothing compared to…” Anne looked around her dramatically. “No, I can’t say his name. Anyone who says it gets taken in the night!” 

You shared the Look with Michella and shook your head. You didn’t know who Anne thought she was fooling with this routine, but you supposed that it wouldn’t be a proper bonfire without scary stories. 

You stood up with Franklin and went over to the cooler. You opened it, grabbing bags of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Franklin helped you, somehow managing to reach across you for everything. His arm grazed your tummy and you sighed. You tilted your head at him.

“Will you stop?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, innocent as a button. You were not fooled. He smiled at you, tilting his head back in response.

“You keep…you know,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said and stepped closer to you. 

“Oh, you get on my nerves,” you said. You smiled at him.

“Meet me at Traveler,” he said.

You shook your head as you brought back the supplies towards the group. You began passing the bags around, picking up sticks that you had collected earlier. Anne continued her tale of the leader of the lost kids. 

You were pretty sure she was talking about an evil Peter Pan but the kids didn’t seem to mind. Some were really engrossed in the story, looking over their shoulders towards the pitch black night. 

She spun the tale of kids who got lost wandering in the dark by themselves. Snatching up anyone who calls them by name. She wasn’t going to say it for their safety. They absolutely must not go looking for his name on the plank where people had been signing their names for years. One signature is not like the rest and they must never seek it out. 

The kids promised but you already saw some sneaky faces. Faces that screamed trouble. You fought a smile. 

You took turns, trying to keep up the legend of this mysterious leader. No one knew who it was, it could be anyone out there. They could be right over someone’s shoulder and you wouldn’t know. 

A few girls squealed. The boys were trying to seem cool, but you saw their eyes darting around as well. You munched on smores as tales were told and laughs were shared. The entire time, you were in sync with Franklin. If he moved, you moved. If he shifted, you did so as well. It was maddening. 

The kids were dismissed to their cabins to unwind for an hour before bed. You walked your cabin back, Franklin walking beside you. He asked you about what you were studying. You told him your favorite subject and your face practically lit up talking about it. 

You asked him what he was into. He said business. “Business! Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I got a mind for numbers. I can do something with that,” he said.

You really needed to get control of your dirty mind. When he said that, your mind instantly went to his lips. The moon poked through the trees and you were able to see him glow faintly silver. You licked your own, wondering what his lips would taste like. What his hands would feel like on you. 

You dragged your gaze ahead of you. The overhead camp lights shone a giant spotlight on you and your group. You walked to each respective bunk and bid farewell to the kids. You crossed paths with Franklin once more as you walked to the counselor cabin. 

Franklin’s hand brushed against yours. Your fingers tingled. As if it could already feel his hands tangling with yours. “Tonight?” Franklin asked. 

“I’ll think about it!” You said and shook your head.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. You went to your cabin, flopping onto your bed with a soft sigh. You brought the pillow to your face and squealed, questioning the butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t a teenager but, fuck, you felt like you were back in high school. Possibly earlier. Back to middle school where you couldn’t stop thinking about Chris Johnson and how sweet he was. 

“Ugh, ya’ll need to go on and make it official. I need to win some real money around here,” Dana said. She emerged from the closet on her side. 

These cabins were much smaller, big enough for two people and set up like a dorm room. You didn’t have that much money for school, it all went to books and classes. You weren’t able to stay on campus and you took the bus to and from the bastard. 

“Stop,” you groaned.

“I don’t know why you leavin’ that man hanging like that,” she said. She was already dressed in her pj’s: sweats and a tank top. Your pjs were similar but you still weren’t sure if you were going to meet Franklin later or not. 

It made you delirious to think about it. Sneaking off in the night. Wings took flight in your stomach. You flipped onto your back and placed your hands against your tummy. You had to see what he wanted, right? 

It wasn’t to talk. You knew that much. He could be a gentleman all he wanted, but you weren’t that oblivious. You saw the way he looked at you or the way he found little ways to bother you. It was so childish but it grew on you as you formed an instant connection. 

“I’m not trying to,” you told Dana. 

“Look, we only here for four weeks. May as well have some fun and have something to tell your future grandkids,” she said.

You laughed and leaned onto your elbow to face her. “Why would I tell my grandkids I had something with some random boy at camp?” 

“Because grandmas are always talkin’ out the side of they neck. I wanna be like my Grandma Sadie. She told us all kinds of things when my parents weren’t around,” she said.

“That’s why you’re so wholesome now,” you told her. 

You talked and joked while Dana spread the latest camp gossip. You weren’t the only subject of people’s comments. People were already finding themselves tangled up with each other. Try as you might, you couldn’t get Jamika to see what a fuck nigga Jason was. She lost her collective marbles with him. 

As it got later, your nerves got the best of you. You were hovering outside of the door, peeking out to see the distant house where Anne and Doug went to bed. There were still lights on in the house. Across from the house, there were similar bunks with the camp staff. Kitchen, groundskeeper, the like. Other volunteers who agreed to help watch the kids. 

Your foot tapped against the wooden floor, your Converse beating a steady rhythm. Dana had explicitly told you to go while she drifted off to sleep. You took a deep breath and left the cabin. Your curiosity was going to eat you alive.

You scurried across the open courtyard heading toward Traveler bridge. The bridge itself crossed a small creek on a curve. You stopped at the entrance, under the light. You waited there, the chilly night and insects chirping making the woods seem creepier. Like Jason was going to pop out at any moment and go on a murdering spree. You should have brought a jacket. You rubbed your bare arms, feet shifting back and forth as you looked around you for any sign of Franklin. He wouldn’t tell you to meet him and then just not show up right?

“Hey, it’s Franklin,” Franklin whispered, making enough noise to let you hear him approach. You turned to face him, smiling softly at him.

“I’m glad you came. Took forever for my bunk mate to fall asleep,” he said. 

He held out his hand and you took it, going over the bridge with him. There was a stretch of woods here, the trees loomed over you. Gnarled branches twisted and arched overhead, blocking out bits of the artificial light. 

You reached the edge of the woods, where the trees broke up and allowed for a wider entrance towards the lake and the water supplies and equipment. Franklin stopped you from heading towards the dock.

He paused while the moon hit you two perfectly. You saw his face and how nervous he seemed. Franklin? Nervous? 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“You’re pretty cute too,” you said with a smile. He moved his hands to your hips, fingers sliding down your sides to loop his fingers through your belt loops. He pushed you backwards until your back gently hit a tree wide enough to accommodate you. 

Franklin stared into your eyes. “I ain’t the only one feeling this, am I?” He asked. 

He threaded his hand through your left one, watching as the pale light played over your combined hands. You swore your hand was electric from touching him. Little zips of energy flowed between you. Your body was learning him. Learning how he moved and spoke, resonated with his energy to match. 

“No. Is it crazy?” You asked.

“Absolutely crazy. I like talkin’ to you,” he said. 

He leaned down but didn’t kiss you. His lips hovered just there, just out of reach. He was so tall and broad, your hands came around his shoulders. You couldn’t stop grasping him. Your body heated up from the inside out. Your mouth dried feeling him beneath your fingers. 

He let you explore his body. You were too shy to go further, to truly explore him. His hands stayed respectfully on your hips. 

“I want to know everything,” he said. 

You giggled. “We’d be here all night,” you said.

“Shit, I can lose some sleep,” he said.

You shook your head. “Are we going down to the dock or not?” You had did this yesterday too. Sneaking out while everyone was supposed to be sleep. You were sure that other couples were doing the same thing. Finding hidden spots that no one would stumble across at this time of night. 

“I just wanted to look at you,” he said. He smiled and you couldn’t help smiling back. He didn’t even have to say anything and he had your lips curling, your tongue sliding across your teeth, and your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. 

You were lost in the world of Franklin and you didn’t mind. You would gladly stay in his orbit if he kept looking at you like that. Like he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, listening to you speak. 

He finally moved away, allowing oxygen to flow to your brain once more. You shook off his subtle clean scent. He tugged you by the hand towards the dock. Your shoes clanged against the loose boards. It was a wonder the damn thing didn’t collapse by now.

Franklin let you sit down first. You took off your shoes and socks, dangling them over the dock. The water was a little out of reach. Only your toes graced the surface of the icy water. Franklin joined you, taking off his own shoes and socks. He sat back a little, his legs a bit longer than yours. 

He sat close, close enough for you to feel every rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders grazed against yours and you had to sit on your hands to keep from reaching out and touching him like you owned him. 

You spent an hour or so there, talking and learning about his aunt and uncle. His momma working for a piece of shit real estate agent. How he wanted to find a good paying job where his mom could retire and he could take care of her.

You didn’t bother asking about his dad. From the way he spoke about his mom, it was clear he wasn’t in the picture. You told him about your family, your schoolwork, and how hard it was to always be on stage while at school.

You bonded about how students and teachers alike didn’t know what to make of you. They didn’t know what kind of Negro you were. The loud type? The ignorant type? The quiet, good ones that they were comfortable reaching for your hair or asking intrusive questions? It felt good to bond with someone over these things.

Franklin was able to stay on campus but he hardly spent time in his rooms. He could be found in the library somewhere, doing his work like a true little nerd.

“You won’t hold it against me, will you?” He asked. 

He sounded so adorable when he asked you that you shook your head. You leaned back, resting on your hands, as you looked at the stars above you. They were breathtaking. The air was clearer. You wished you could afford this much land. That you could have a place to yourself where no one else was allowed. 

A private lake where you could do anything you wanted. You could swim naked for all you wanted and no one would be around to stop you. Perhaps not such a big land though. You wouldn’t know what to do if a psycho killer came crashing out of the woods. 

“Nah, you good,” you said. He matched your stance, looking skyward. He then turned his head. You turned to look at him as well, not realizing just how close you were. His eyes dipped towards your lips. 

You licked them absently and his eyes tracked the movement. You found yourself leaning forward, closing the distance towards those lips of his. They looked so big and juicy and were probably warm. 

He rested his head against yours, smiling against your lips. “Let me kiss you,” he said.

It wasn’t a question but you smiled and nodded. He crossed that final distance, that tiny gap keeping you apart, He sighed against your lips. His big, warm hand reached up to cup your neck. 

His fingers feathered across your pulse points. You felt your heartbeat there, beating wildly against his fingers. His lips were even more heavenly. His other hand cupped the other side of your neck. His long fingers slid through your braids.

You were lightheaded. Dizzy with pleasure as your lips tingled against his. Shivers ran down your spine. Your hands rested on his forearms, holding onto each other as you gave in to this thing between you. This all consuming thing that made you push forward, press against him, trying to get closer than what you already were. 

Your harsh breaths seemed to echo in the still night. The sounds of the woods were muted here, lending itself to a type of quiet that you never experienced. There was always a plane or helicopter overhead. Some type of siren or dog barking. 

It was hard as hell to go to sleep in a place so quiet. It was eerie. You kept expecting to hear a gunshot disguised as a firework. Here, there were just your loud and racing thoughts picturing this exact moment. 

Franklin’s tongue danced with yours. Sweeping across your lips and diving back into your mouth to taste more of you. His breath was faintly minty. Even after dinner and the smores. 

Your pussy throbbed. Beating in time with your wild heartbeat. You felt him everywhere. All over your skin. Every kiss had an answering call in your tummy. Every squeeze around your neck you felt down to your toes. 

You reluctantly drew away at the same time, panting and turning drunk eyes on each other. “I’ve been dreamin’ about that,” he said. His head rested against your once more. You huffed, breathing each other in. 

“Same here. I felt like that should've helped dull this,” you said.

After your taste, you wanted more. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to lay you down and unzip your shorts. Or makeout with you while his hands explored under your shirt. To rub your aching nipples that were straining beneath your bra for any type of stimulation. 

“Ain’t gon’ happen,” he said. He pecked your lips. But a quick peck turned into two and then three until you were moving into his lap. You straddled him and kissed under the stars. It was just you and him.

Him gripping your thighs and squeezing them for dear life. You running your hands around his back. Your lips crashing against each other over and over, like waves crashing against a shore. You felt weightless in his arms. He hadn’t looked all that sturdy under that skinny frame, but he handled you with ease.

He squeezed your ass and you groaned, couldn’t help yourself from grinding on his crotch. He was thick, warm, and solid under you. He was pressing against your core but there wasn’t enough friction. 

You found a natural break again, opening your eyes to look at him and smile. It still was nowhere near enough but it would have to be. You had already been out too late. You were going to be so tired in the morning.

“We should get back,” he whispered. 

You licked your swollen lips and nodded. Fuck, you wanted to keep going. Wanted to know how far he would push you. 

“Will you meet me tomorrow too?” He asked.

You bit your lip but nodded. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, too,” you said. The other counselors be damned. It wasn’t like they weren’t around, confessing their own feelings. Or already hooking up. Clothes flying in the heat of the moment. 

“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said.

His hands slowly slid from your hips to your sides to help you maneuver off of him. You stood and he stood up after, taking your hand and walking with you back to your cabin. His cabin was further down and you thanked him for the sweet gesture.

He tapped his cheek for a kiss. Your cheeks hurt from trying to hide another smile. He got on your damn nerves. You pecked his cheek, your lips lingering for a fraction too long. “Good night, Franklin,” you said. 

“Good night,” he said. Your name fell from his lips softly, sacredly. 

You gave a small wave and went inside, closing the door and resting your back against it. You were still so lightheaded. Drunk on his kisses and needing more. Dana was still fast asleep so you changed and slipped into bed as quiet as you could. 

You didn’t know how you were going to sleep tonight but you hoped that Franklin would dream of you too.

There's always more Franklin to explore: The Secret Franklin Saint Files | Part 2

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Home (Is Wherever I'm With You)

Summary: You aren’t supposed to be in California for another week, but managed to tie up all your loose ends and arrive early. You get some unwanted attention when you try to surprise your husband at his favorite bar, and after he comes to your rescue, Bradley shows you just how much he missed you right there in the Hard Deck bathroom. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: unwanted flirting and advancements from men, language, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.7K

Notes: In Part 7 of RYEWID, Bradley remembers how he and Pumpkin have hooked up in the Hard Deck bathroom before. Here’s the first time that happened.

Part of The Forgotten Moments collection I have going for them, though this can be read completely independently and still make sense. 

_____

You weren’t supposed to be in California for another week. The Navy hadn’t given Bradley much time at all before he was to report for permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had helped you as much as he could, but packing up and arranging for all of your belongings to be shipped across the country fell mostly on you. You didn’t mind; you had more loose ends to tie up than he did, anyway. But what you thought would take three weeks you managed to get done in two, and instead of telling your husband you’d be arriving early, you decided to surprise him. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did. 

It was a Friday evening and you knew he’d be coming to the Hard Deck. Nat was the only one in on your plans and had confirmed when you texted her earlier after your flight landed. You were nearly buzzing with excitement. You had only been married for four months, and between the deployment he was on prior to being called back to Top Gun and the mission that resulted in a permanent station here, you had barely seen each other for half of it. You couldn’t wait to be back in his arms. 

You sipped on your beer, perched on a stool at one of the high top tables near the bar that had a good view of the front door, but was far enough away that he wouldn’t spot you right away if he looked in this direction. You were so focused on looking for your husband that you failed to notice the man approaching until he was standing right in front of you, effectively blocking your view of the door. You startled slightly at the sudden appearance.

He was tall, blonde, and perhaps a little too pretty. He had a smirk on his face that you were sure was meant to be dazzling. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing sitting by herself?” 

There was a hint of a southern drawl in his voice that you were sure charmed women on a daily basis, but only made you raise your eyebrows. “Enjoying my drink.” 

“All alone?” he asked, “I bet it would taste better with someone here to keep you company.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the line, but you shook your head and held up your left hand without a word. Your rings sparkled from their spot snug on your finger. 

“Damn,” he sighed, his smirk falling slightly but never leaving. He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You can’t blame me for trying, right?” 

“Thank you, I think?” you laughed. 

“Definitely a compliment.” 

The blonde stranger winked at you, but to his credit, he didn’t push it any further. He bid you a good night and made his way over to the bar, presumingly ordering himself a drink. You watched him converse with another guy there for a moment, who cast a look at you, but you didn’t pay it any mind as your eyes turned back to the door. In the short time you had been distracted a large crowd had come in and you scanned the room for Bradley again. You bit your lip when you couldn’t find him anywhere, deflating slightly. You were so, so ready to see him. 

You were reaching for your phone to text a simple “where are you guys?” to Natasha when you were interrupted again. This time it’s from the darker haired man who the blonde from earlier had talked to at the bar. You glanced over quickly to see him shaking his head as he walked back toward the crowded pool tables. 

“Hi,” the newcomer said with a bright smile, leaning against the small round table. The stool you were sitting on had you just about even with his height. 

“Hello,” you responded, trying your best to be polite. “Didn’t your friend tell you I’m married?”

He looked momentarily surprised by your bluntness but recovered quickly, laughing lightly. “He did. But I see a ring, not a husband. Thought it might be worth shooting my shot anyway.”

“No,” you said with a forced smile, “it’s not. I’m actually waiting here for him, so.”

To your annoyance, he didn’t seem the slightest bit dettered. “Well how about I keep you company while you wait? My name is Neil.” 

“I’m good on my own, actually. He should be here any minute.” 

“Come on. At least give me your name.” He goes so far as to set his hand over yours on the table. You pulled it back quickly, feeling yourself getting angry at his persistence. You opened your mouth to tell him off, no longer interested in being polite, when you caught a flash of Hawaiian print in your peripheral vision. You gasped in surprised delight at the sight of your husband. You scrambled off the chair, pushing past the unwelcome suitor without a second thought as you raced to close the short remaining distance between the two of you. 

“Bradley!”

You launched yourself into his arms and he caught you easily, holding you tightly against him. You relished the feeling of being in his embrace again, laughing happily into his neck when he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. You only pulled back far enough to press your lips against his. He kissed you back eagerly, setting you down so he could cup your cheek with one hand, the other still firmly on your lower back, pressing your body into his. 

“Pumpkin,” he rasped, “what are you doing here, sweetheart?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, even as you beamed against his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He hums, kissing you again. He tastes just the same and you chase it, wanting to refamiliarize yourself with it all over again. His body is warm against yours and the anxiety you had felt the last few weeks finally settled inside you. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, nudging your nose with his and causing another giggle to escape. 

“I missed you too, baby.”

You were grinning broadly when you pulled away, and Bradley was too, until his eyes strayed behind you. You watched them narrow and he stood a little straighter, his hand falling from your face. You looked over your shoulder; you had completely forgotten about the man standing by your table. He was still there, looking gobsmacked as he stared at your husband. 

You resisted the urge to comment on how you had told him he would be there any minute. Instead you looked back up at Bradley. He had an intense look on his face, one you had only seen a few times before. Despite yourself, you shivered lightly. 

“You trying to hit on my wife, Omaha?” 

Your eyebrows raised at the name. It wasn’t as familiar to you as others, but it was one you had heard before nonetheless. Another Top Gun graduate who had been called back and then restationed. 

“I…didn’t know she was your wife,” he stuttered. 

“But you knew she was married.”

The other aviator looked a little panicked now, his eyes widening even further. “Rooster, I swear, if I would have known-“

“It doesn’t matter whose wife she is. If she tells you she’s married or not interested, you take that as your cue to leave.” 

Omaha looked like he was contemplating saying something, but instead, he gave a single nod. He met your eyes briefly, offering a quick apology under his breath. You felt Bradley’s grip on you tighten when he walked around you, even if he made a point to not get close. 

You looked up at him when Omaha was gone. His jaw ticked in annoyance, but when you settled a hand over his heart and murmured his name, you could feel how his body relaxed. He met your eyes again. He opened his mouth, you were sure to apologize for something he had no reason to be sorry for, so you cut him off with another kiss. The last of the tension left him and he wrapped both arms around you. 

You stand there with him for a long moment, kissing and enjoying his body against yours. You never felt as good as you did when you were with him, especially when you were in his arms. 

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, but the soft smile that was always just for you was back on his face. 

“Come on,” he said, “let me introduce you to everyone.” 

“That sounds great,” you said back, grabbing your abandoned purse and drink from where you had left them at your table. You raised up on your toes and pressed another kiss to his cheek. You speak directly into his ear, enjoying the tremor that went through him this time.  “The quicker you introduce me, the quicker you can take me to bed.” 

You smacked his ass playfully as you skipped ahead of him. You laughed when you heard his exaggerated groan. He caught up with you quickly, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned down to whisper, “Since when do we need a bed, Pumpkin?” 

You gasped and he smirked, tugging you forward to the group who had been eyeing you curiously. 

Phoenix is the first to greet you, wrapping you in a quick hug. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and you were so glad you would have her here permanently, too. He introduced you to everyone gathered around the pool table, and it’s nice finally putting names to faces. When you get to the last person, you can’t help but snort at the familiar face. 

“I think you already met Hangman,” Bradley introduced him with a roll of his eyes. The man in question didn’t look the least bit ashamed, smirking as he held out his hand to you. Instead of shaking it like everyone else had done, he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. You laughed at the sheer audacity he had, but you could tell he was harmless. From what you know of him from the stories you’ve heard lately, it was purely a move to get under your husband’s skin. You heard the man in question let out an annoyed huff and knew it was working, too. 

“Pleasure to formally meet you. If I would have known Rooster was the bird in question who put that ring on your finger, I would have introduced myself sooner.” 

“Instead you came over here and complained about the bombshell at the bar being married,” your husband muttered, pulling you tighter into his side. 

“Got your attention that someone else didn’t care about that little fact though, didn’t I?” Hangman quipped back. Bradley rolled his eyes again, but tipped the beer he had been handed in his direction anyway. You giggled at the interaction, prompting him to look down at you. You stood on your toes to kiss his mouth before turning back to the group with a smile. 

“So,” you said, “who has good stories about my husband that he’d never tell me himself?” 

Bradley groaned as the others laughed, and it wasn’t long before you were drawn into conversation with the people you knew he considered his friends, whether he’d admit it or not. You already felt more comfortable with them than you had any of the coworkers of his that you had met in DC, which made some of your nerves dissipate. As you were regaled with story after story, some more embarrassing than others, Bradley was a constant presence at your back. You relished being able to lean back into his chest after weeks of not being able to do so. His hands settled on your hips, toying with the waistband of your skirt. It was one of his favorites and you had put it on with that in mind. 

You spent close to an hour swapping stories and getting to know everyone. They seemed genuinely interested in you as well, not just because of your status of “Rooster’s wife”, but of who you were on your own. You had been nervous about moving to San Diego, though you hadn’t hesitated for a second the minute he brought it up to you; being around all of these people already had you feeling more confident. 

So, of course, did the man behind you. 

Bradley hadn’t strayed from you since he had first laid eyes on you that night. You felt a thrill knowing that he missed you as much as you had missed him. His love and dedication would never be something you would get tired of. Titling your head back once Javy and Bob wandered over to join the game of pool happening, leaving you and Bradley as alone as you had been that night, you smiled up at him. His lips quirked into that soft smile that you adored and when you pucker your lips, he was capturing them with his in an instant.

“I missed you,” you whispered, fingers toying with the buttons on his open shirt. 

“I missed you,” Bradley returned easily. His fingertips dipped under the waistband of your skirt for the faintest moments and you shivered. You simply stared at one another for several long moments, saying so much without saying anything at all. You felt heat spreading through your body the longer your eyes remained locked and when you drew your bottom lip between your teeth, Bradley groaned lowly before leaning down and pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispered in your ear. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin because you knew what those words meant when he had that look in his eye and the electricity between you was sparking like it was now. 

“Yes,” you breathed, no hesitation in your decision. With a quick look to make sure his friends were all still distracted, he was taking your hand and leading you away and toward the other side of the bar. You could see the sign for the bathroom hanging overhead and your heart started to race even faster. 

You stumbled into the single stall restroom, hands already at his belt. Bradley pressed you up against the door as soon as he locked it, rucking your skirt up and his mouth against yours. 

“Fucking so glad you’re here,” he mumbled into the kiss. “God, Pumpkin.” 

You gasped out his name as he trailed kisses to your neck, sucking at the skin harshly. You fumbled with the button and zip of his jeans, fighting to keep focused on getting them undone as Bradley pressed down on your clit through your underwear. You knew he could feel how wet you were for him; the material had to be soaked through by now. His hips thrusted forward at their own accord when you finally freed him from the confines of the denim that had been keeping him from you. He moaned into your neck as you stroked him. 

Bradley spun the two of you away from the door and hoisted you up onto the counter by the sink.  Your skirt was pushed up above your waist and he nearly ripped your panties in his haste to get them off of you. You barely felt the cool breeze of the bar’s AC hit your exposed pussy before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and rubbing his hard cock through your folds, coating himself. You steadied yourself with a hand behind you as the other fisted into the curls at the back of his head.

“I need you inside of me,” you moaned. “Please, baby. Please, please, please.” 

“So desperate for me,” he rasped. He didn’t give you a chance to confirm or deny before he was sliding into you. He muffled your scream of pleasure with a hand over your mouth. His dark eyes were trained on yours and you gave a jerky nod to his silent question. He pulled out of you almost completely before roughly thrusting back in. You moaned against his palm. He repeated the sequence twice more before he let his hand fall. The bar was loud outside the locked bathroom and he was trusting you not to draw attention that would give the two of you away, even though anyone who saw you coming back here had to know what was happening. 

“Gonna be quick,” he warned, voice deeper than it had been all night. You felt a whole new wave of arousal flood through you at the tone and clenched around him. 

“I don’t care,” you assured, whimpering when he slammed back into you again. “Take me, Bradley.” 

He growled out your name, and with a firm grip on your hips, truly started fucking you. 

He drove into you over and over again and the sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was echoing throughout the small bathroom. Your body shook with every thrust and from your position on the edge of the counter, you couldn’t do much more than sit there and let him have his way with you.

“Feel so good,” he grunted, “always so damn good.” 

The vein in his neck was throbbing below his skin. You couldn’t resist leaning forward and licking it. His hips jerked at the sensation and you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you that had you tightening your grip in his hair. 

“Bradley!” 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Come on.” 

You knew he wouldn’t let you fall, so with the hand that had been braced on the counter, you fumbled past the bunched material of your skirt to get to your pussy. Your fingers brushed over him as he thrusted into you and you nearly cried at how good it felt. 

You rubbed quick, rough circles into your clit as your orgasm rapidly approached. It didn’t take long for you to get there. Between the feel of him inside of you and the dirty words he was whispering into your ear, you broke. This time, Bradley swallowed your scream by pressing his mouth against yours. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation. You arched your back, a desperate attempt to bring him even closer. 

It only took a handful more powerful thrusts before Bradley’s own release was triggered. His hips slammed flush against yours and he grunted into your mouth. His cock twitched deliciously inside of you as his cum painted your walls and filled you up. You clenched around him to try and milk as much of it as you could. 

You broke the kiss when breathing became an issue. Both of you were panting as he laid his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved as you caught your breaths. 

You couldn’t allow yourselves too much time in the afterglow, mindful of the fact you were in a locked bar bathroom, so after too short of a moment, Bradley kissed your forehead and slowly withdrew from you. You instantly felt so empty, even with his cum still inside of you. You were both quiet as he pulled paper towels from the dispenser and gently cleaned you up. Your panties were on the bathroom floor and you scrunched your nose at the thought of putting them back on. Bradley scooped them up, stuffing them in his pocket before you could even voice your distaste. 

You should have known he would have done that regardless. 

He gripped your hips once again to lift you off of the counter and onto your feet. Your skirt fell back into place, albeit more wrinkled than it was before you entered the bathroom. You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much. 

You let your arms come up to wrap around his neck as his settled on your lower back. 

“I was planning on taking my time with you when you got here, to show how much I missed you,” he said. You chuckled lightly. 

“Who says you can’t still do that later?” 

Bradley’s groan was playful and full of affection. “How about we get on that now? I think we’ve stayed long enough.” 

“Baby,” you laughed, squealing quietly when he purposefully rubbed his mustache against your cheek. 

“C’mon, Pumpk. Let me take you home,” he begged. 

“Don’t you mean the temporary lodgings the US Navy is providing us until we close on a house?” 

“Semantics,” he whispered before pecking your lips once, and then twice. You hummed against your lips, smiling happily. It didn’t matter if you were in base housing, a hotel room, or even the backseat of the Bronco. Anywhere with Bradley felt like home to you. 

“One more drink,” you conceded, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Then I’m all yours.” 

“Deal,” he said immediately, sealing it with one more kiss. He made sure both of your clothing was back in order before he laced his fingers with yours and unlocked the bathroom door. The two of you were still laughing together, but it cut off abruptly once he opened it. Jake and Nat were both leaning against the wall across from the door, arms folded over their chests and eyebrows raised. 

“So,” Jake drawled out, “is it the honeymoon phase, or can we expect this all the time?” 

Nat snickered quietly as a blush crept its way up Bradley’s neck. He fumbled for a response, but you cleared your throat, giving the two of them an easy smile. “Only time will tell, I suppose.” 

Nat’s snicker turned into a full on laugh, and Jake looked at you impressed before letting out a chuckle himself as the two of them walked back down the hallway toward the noise of the bar. You followed behind them at a slower pace. When Bradley squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss into your hair, you looked up at him. His eyes twinkled and he had that soft, soft smile on his face again. 

“I love you, Pumpkin. I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“I love you, too, Bradley. I’m so happy to be home.” 

-------

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world and are so encouraging💚

Special thanks to @mak-32 for spurring the idea and for her and @roosterforme for everything, as always.

Masterlist

Tag List (please let me know if you’d like to be removed or added!) :  @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

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[honeyedmiller]

Law of Attraction — Epilogue

series masterlist | previous chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni

word count: 2.7k

warnings: no outbreak au, professor!joel, plus size!reader, responsible alcohol consumption, a reunion, confessions of feelings (lots and lots of feelings), no use of y/n.

epilogue synopsis: a year later, you find yourself attending another criminal justice exposition, but everything’s different this time around.

a/n: this is it! thank you all so much for sticking with me through this lil series, even though the updates were super sporadic. thank you for giving my take on professor miller the love you did. i appreciate every single one of you. love u all. xoxo

divider by @saradika-graphics <3

You almost laughed when Margot told you where the upcoming criminal justice expo was being held this year. 

The same exact hotel as last year, because apparently, attendance was at an all-time high and it got phenomenal feedback. This time, you were going because the forensics department you were in was invited as a whole unit, with Margot chosen to give a speech to represent the department. 

You’d grown close with Margot the year that you’ve been back in California. Your job was amazing, you worked with a great team, and you were truly, genuinely happy for the first time in so long. 

So much has changed within the year. You felt like you’d done a lot of growing as a person, figuring out who you are all while living your best life. 

Joel had decided that he’d keep his distance for you, because you deserved to live your life and heal and not worry about him all the way back in Texas. You protested at first, but then steadily came to the realization that it truly was for the best. 

That’s all he wanted for you—the best—and he couldn’t give that to you if he was just going to hold you back. Plus, a long distance thing would’ve just been too much for the both of you. 

Distancing himself was for the best. 

Doesn’t mean you didn’t miss him like hell. He’d texted you from time-to-time to see how the new job was, how you were settling into your apartment with Adrienne, how living in California was again. He cared, alot. More than he’d probably admit. 

As the new semester started for Joel, the texts dwindled down into nothingness. It wasn’t intentional. You both were just busy, occupied people who had jobs to do. 

Still doesn’t mean you didn’t think about him often. 

You’d wonder what shirt he’d be wearing on a random Wednesday, if he drank one cup or two cups of coffee on a particularly grueling day, what music he’d listen to on his way to work. 

You knew it would be best if you could just stop thinking about him in general, but it was hard. The man had a big impact on your life, even though things were more than okay between you two now. You just couldn’t shake him. 

You had some pretty decent distractions, but at the end of the day it was just him. Joel, Joel, Joel.

Margot went over how the presentation was going to go at the expo, and luckily you didn’t need to do much talking. Or anything at all, really. Just smile and wave as you’re introduced, as Margot had put it. 

The setup was exactly as you’d remembered it—a huge room with tables that showcased different areas of expertise in criminal justice, and a stage at the very front of the room with an open bar in the back.

 A small, fond smile curls on your lips as you recall wearing that sophisticatedly sexy black number and Joel’s eyes as he ogled over you. 

You were wearing a pale pink blouse this time with gray slacks and black heels. You couldn’t deny yourself of the proud feeling tugging in your tummy. A year ago, you wanted to be a pro. Now you are. 

“Okay team,” Margot started, and all of you gave her your undivided attention. “Put these lanyards on. There’s forensics teams from all over Southern California today, so let’s represent Los Angeles and be on our best behavior.” 

You laughed softly at Margot’s motherly side shining through. Your lanyard had the words Los Angeles PD Forensics Department with your name written below it, and Forensic Analyst below your name on a laminated card that was clipped at the bottom. 

“Feels like a badge of honor bestowed on us.” Your coworker Brandon joked. 

“Kinda does, huh?” You laugh along with him. Brandon started the same time you did, so you luckily weren’t thrown into the workforce alone. He’d become someone near and dear to you over the course of the past year. 

Margot led you all toward your seats in front of the stage. More people filed into the room, experts from every which way coming up to introduce themselves. Chatter died down once everyone was settled and the speeches began. Each department head from different counties—Orange, Riverside, San Diego, San Bernardino—all gave their speeches and introduced their teams. Margot was last to go, thanking everyone for being able to make it out to the expo. She introduced you one-by-one, sporting shy smiles and humble waves to the crowd. 

There had to be easily more than three hundred people in that room. Even waving hello was nerve wracking, so when Margot thanked everyone once more and wished them a good time, you were relieved when parties started to disperse into their respectable groups. 

“Let’s get a drink. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.” Brandon nudged you, and you happily obliged. You considered ordering a Mai Tai, a smile curling onto the corner of your lips at the thought. You opted for a single glass of Disarrono on the rocks. 

You sipped generously on your drink as Brandon was in full swing of conversation with your other coworker, not paying much mind to what he was saying. 

Your mind clouded with thoughts of last time. The way Joel looked at you, the way you felt under his burning gaze, the carnal need for him that settled into your bones, the things you did with him just fifteen floors above this one. A devastating wave of need and nostalgia washed over you in that moment.

”Helloooo?” Brandon waved his hand in front of your face, and you looked at him with threaded eyebrows. “Where are you, babe?” He asks, and you smile softly.

”I’m sorry. Just deep in thought, I guess.” You laugh it off, internally rolling your eyes at yourself. 

Get. It. Together.

”Wanna talk about it?” He asks, resting a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head and sip your drink. The last thing you want to do is wallow in self pity. 

“Well if you want to get your mind off of things, Mr. Hunk over there has been making eyes at you for some time now.” Brandon juts his chin over your shoulder with subtlety. You furrow your brows, turning around to lock eyes with a deep, familiar, warm gaze. 

You freeze in place, not really believing your eyes at the moment. It felt like your mind was playing tricks on you, mainly because being here had memories of him and the little bits of bliss you indulged in together. 

Your feet seemed to have a mind of their own as you made your way to him, meeting him halfway before stopping before his broad frame. 

“Joel?” Your voice is nearly a whisper, impossible to hear over the loud chatter in the room. A small smile curls onto his lips as he looks at you with sincerity. 

“Hi sweetheart.” 

He looks a bit different. His hair is longer, the graying brown locks hanging over his forehead in soft curls that frame his handsome face. His matching stubble is a bit longer, probably from lack of shaving over the last few days. You spot the heart shaped patch amidst the gray, though, and you want to kiss it. You want to kiss him. 

“What are you—” You start, but he shakes his head. 

“They invited me back because I actually got a new job. ‘M gonna be a criminal law professor at UCLA starting this summer.” He says, and your eyebrows pinch together. 

“Wait, so you’re moving to LA?” You ask, struggling to comprehend the news he just dropped on you. 

He nods, a sheepish smile on his lips as he tries to gauge your reaction. 

“That’s amazing, Joel, congrats on the job.” You grin up at him, trying to mask your excitement. 

You didn’t exactly know where you stood with him, since so much had changed since the last time you physically saw him in person. 

“Thank you.” His voice was soft amongst the chaos of others. You had so much you wanted to say, but the words just seemed to die on your tongue every time you opened and closed your mouth to speak. 

“Wanna go talk somewhere more private?” He’s leaning toward your ear now so you can hear him better. He leans back and looks at you, a flash of uncertainty crossing his gaze. He was probably just as nervous as you were. 

You nod at him and hold up a finger as you step back to your group, telling Brandon you were going to step out real quick. His eyes flickered between you and Joel, giving you an impressed nod. 

You almost wanted to laugh, given that he had no clue about the history between you and Joel. 

Margot didn’t have anything planned for the team until tomorrow, so it was a free-for-all kinda night. You downed the last of your drink for that quick spike of liquid courage, setting your glass onto the bar top before you were by Joel’s side again. He led you out of the expo with a hand on your lower back, not caring who saw anymore. 

He didn’t want to hide anything anymore. He was ready to lay all of his cards down on the table, hoping you’d be willing to hear him out. 

“I have a room here for the weekend—would you be comfortable talking in there? If not, we can—” Joel starts nervously, but you reach up and give his bicep a small squeeze of reassurance as you wait by the elevator. 

“That’s fine Joel.” You smile at him, and you can see his shoulders visibly relax as he nods. The elevator dings, and you both step inside. You nearly want to laugh, hard, at how he pressed the ‘15’ button. 

Total déjà vu settles into your bones, recalling the insane sexual tension between the two of you the last time you rode this elevator up to the fifteenth floor. You look at your reflections staring back at you, and you don't see desperate and needy in your gazes. You saw steadiness and growth. 

He looks at you and gives you a small smile, a flash of I remember too, before the elevator comes to a full stop and opens its doors. He leads you to his room and unlocks the door, tossing the key card onto the entry table as you both shuffle into the room.

You didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t know if he wanted to just talk, wanted to talk and do more, or just do more. 

“So,” He starts, scratching the back of his neck. “Wanna talk on the balcony?” He nods his head toward the spacious balcony with two seats and a small table outside. 

Relief floods your body in an instant, grateful he only wants to talk. You grin at him and head toward the balcony, sliding the glass door open before stepping out into the California warmth. You take a seat across him him, heart racing in anticipation as your gaze meets his. 

“First off, I wanna start by saying I’ve been doin’ a lot of reflecting this past year. Should’ve never put you through that situation darlin’, n’ for that I’m sorry.” 

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve both moved past that part.” You try to keep your tone lighthearted, but Joel shakes his head. 

“‘M sorry for what I did to ya. You’re a beautiful, smart, amazing woman n’ I took advantage of the situation. It was fucked up. Tess gave me an earful, believe me.” His smile is sad as he looks down at his hands folded in his lap. 

“Why did you?” You meekly ask. 

“I was scared of gettin’ hurt again. My ex fiancée wasn’t a good person. She cheated on me multiple times n’ gaslit me into thinking I was goin’ crazy, even if there were major red flags about her and her behavior. Didn’t see through any of the bullshit though, and I feel like I projected my bottled up hurt into what was going on between us. I can’t tell ya how sorry I am.” 

“Why did you get so upset with me when I reminded you that I’m not her? I would never do such a thing to you.” 

“I realize that now, baby. I guess I just got so upset that what she did was being thrown in my face, and it set me off. Listen,” He sighs, rubbing the crook of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, “I should’ve never let things get the way they did. Should’ve never proposed that stupid fuckin’ idea in the first place. I know it’s been a year n’ all, but I still want you, baby. I wanna be with you, show you off, and love you out loud like y’should’ve been all along.” 

You still at his words. Love? 

“Love?” Your voice echoes your thoughts in a whisper, staring at him doe-eyed and shocked. 

“Yeah, baby. Love. Finally not a fuckin’ coward and can admit it. There’s no other woman like you. I wanna be with you, if you’ll have me.” The hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. 

“I don’t want to get hurt again, Joel.” The thought of getting your heart broken again was something you knew you couldn’t bear. The circumstances may be different this time around, but you’ve worked on yourself so much and—

He grabs your hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth so he can kiss your knuckles. 

“I know. And I can promise you, from the depths of my very bein’, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to make you believe when I say I would never, ever hurt you again. It hurt me to see you like that, sweetheart. N’ knowin’ I did that? Absolutely fuckin’ killed me.” 

“I forgive you, Joel. I’m–I’m willing to give this a go, but please, for the love of god, take care of my heart.” 

“I promise, sweetheart.” 

-

Joel kept that very promise. A year later and your relationship with him was stronger than ever. He showed you off unashamedly. Truthfully, you were worried at first about what people would think about the age difference between you two, but no one really bats an eye at that stuff in Los Angeles like they would back in Austin. 

You got to experience the beautiful side of being loved by Joel Miller—soft, kind, attentive, insatiable. He was a man who was a jack of all trades when it came to being in a relationship, and you couldn’t have been happier with the leap of faith you chose to take a year ago. 

He’s reminded you every day how beautiful you are, has loved on you and cherished you every day, and if you’d let him, would quite literally praise the ground you walked on. 

He was all about you and he made you feel like the luckiest, sexiest woman alive. 

You wish everyone could experience a love like this. 

There were many bumps in the road, but it took all of that to get you to where you are now: incandescently happy and in love. 

You look over at the gorgeous brown-eyed man who was tracing circles over your shins that were thrown over his lap, burying himself in papers he was grading—the very same paper he first helped you on that started this whole thing. 

A soft smile spreads on your lips as you watch him intently, enjoying this little full-circle moment to yourself. 

He furrows his brows, and with a slight pout to his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose before looking up to lock his gaze with yours. He gives you one of those soft smiles that makes your heart melt continuously. He squeezes your shin in reassurance, always needing to be touching you in one way or another. 

He couldn’t get enough of you. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words slip easily past his lips, and you lean forward to give him a chaste kiss. 

It might’ve been a force of pure attraction at first, but your heart formed around him. 

He was yours, and you, his. This is how it was always meant to be, you think. 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

And you really do. 

You always will. 

tags: @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @pamasaur ; @untamedheart81 ; @harriedandharassed ; @endlessthxxghts

[differenteagletragedy]

Your first Casual Friday at the office, you earnestly asked your boss, Baxter Ward, why he was still wearing a suit when every other worker was dressed in jeans and t-shirts. He curtly told you that he was in his preferred clothing, and you wrote it off.

The second Friday, when he was once again in a full suit in the sweltering California summer, you still thought it was odd, but you were coming to realize that he was just an odd kind of guy.

Several Fridays had passed since then, and you'd gotten more comfortable in your position as Baxter's secretary. Comfortable enough for a little light teasing.

"Mr. Ward," you greeted him as he came into the building. Then you made some silly joke, something about being allergic to denim and comfort. Something that you couldn't remember because for the first time since you'd met him, he gave you a smile -- more of a smirk, really -- that finally met his eyes.

"Careful," he said in a soft, low voice. "One needs to pay special attention when speaking to one's superiors."

He'd always been uptight, polite but distant, but there was more than a hint of mischief in this words. Before you could answer, he retreated into his office, leaving you standing in the hall dumbfounded.

That's how you realized you had a crush on your boss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn't unusual for you to go with Baxter to various appointments and meetings. You'd take notes for him at a wedding venue, or pitch in with him if a couple needed some extra help.

What was unusual, however, was a downpour in southern California. So when the two of you were walking down a busy street in the heart of the city and the rain started, you were unprepared.

You were shocked, looking at the sky like the weather was a mystery that needed solving. Baxter responded first, taking your hand in his surprisingly warm one and briskly walking you to stand under a nearby awning.

When you reached your destination, you saw him glance down at your hands, still clasped together. He dropped yours, and you instantly missed his warmth -- partially because of that crush, and partially because you were legitimately cold. The two of you hadn't been in the rain that long, but it was coming down fast enough that you were soaked to the bone.

Baxter watched, still silent, as you gave a shiver. His hands moved up to his lapels, and you saw him give a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. It could have been wishful thinking, but it seemed like he'd almost taken his jacket off to give to you. It wouldn't have done much good, it was as wet as your own clothes, but the gesture still had your heart beating fast.

"Shall we make a break for it?" he asked, that rare smirk gracing his delicate features again. He nodded his head towards his car that was parked down the street, but his eyes never left yours.

"Let's."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"If I ever agree to plan a destination wedding again, please kill me."

You snorted, glancing sideways at your boss in the back of the taxi.

It had been months now since you'd taken a job as his secretary, and you were something like friends now. Close enough that after a flight full of turbulence and the realization that the airline had lost his bags, he felt like you were a person he could go to for a death request.

He kept complaining during the short drive to the hotel, and as you were walking towards the front desk, he leaned closer to you and quietly said, "If one more thing goes wrong, I'm quitting."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, smiling. "What would you do."

He opened his mouth, then paused and closed it. You could practically see all the potential answers running through his head, and him trying to figure out what might make you laugh the most. Lately, it seemed more and more like that had become one of his favorite pastimes.

Instead, he glanced your way again and said "Dancing."

"Like exotic dancing?" you replied, waiting for the joke. "You could pull it off with those legs, and that wai --"

"Ballroom dancing," he said. "I used to do ballroom dancing."

"Really?"

"Is that so surprising?" he asked. You'd made it to the desk now, but there was a couple in front of you. As you waited, he turned to you, and you saw a sweet little twinkle in his eye.

"No, I guess not. But you'd make it into a career?"

"I could try my hand at doing it professionally," he said. "Or I could coach. Instruct."

He was about to continue, but the people in front of you left, and it was your turn at the desk. He gave you a small, sweet smile, then stepped forward and told him your names so the hotel employee could find your reservations.

That's when you found out that there was a mistake -- only one room had been reserved, not two, and the room only had one bed.

"Oh, for the love of --"

[sunlightmurdock]

🩸 I felt an autumn chill the other day and have been suffering from Spooky Bitch Thoughts ever since, so I present you with this idea that will not leave my head 🩸

🥀 full idea under cut 🥀

Jake and Bradley are vampires, like full blown, Anne Rice style vampires. In the 1700s, they fall in love with the same girl and become almost a throuple type thing.

Jake can’t stand the thought of losing her and wants to turn her constantly, Bradley is very against the idea and won’t let it happen. The girl is involved in an accident and one way or another, is dying in front of them. They’re left with no choice but to turn her.

They have to keep her from her family to keep their identities safe. The people in the town think that Jake and Bradley killed her or whatever, so they move far away. She’s far from everything she has ever known and distraught.

As much as she loves Jake and Bradley, she’s terrified by what she is now. Rejecting the vampire life, refusing to feed, crying all day and begging some higher entity to let her go back to who she was.

They’re both heartbroken, doing anything that they can to help her adjust. Bradley and Jake are at odds about the decision they’ve made. She’s left on her own in their huge property one day while they’re arguing.

She comes across a maid, and she can’t help it, she’s just so thirsty. Jake and Bradley find her covered in blood with the dead maid in her arms. They immediately move to soothe her, telling her that “it’s okay, they’ll clean things up”.

Slowly, she starts to return more to her old self. Being affectionate with them again. They’re relieved. So relieved that even when she starts to have more and more ‘accidents’ that wind up with someone dead in front of her, they tell her that it’s not her fault and cover for her.

She goes from being this innocent little farm girl to a blood-thirsty monster in the span of weeks, essentially.

Jake leans into it at first. He likes the sex that they’re having, and he likes seeing her enjoy the new life he has given her.

Bradley’s more apprehensive but he’s got a soft spot for her. Even covered in blood, when she comes crawling into his lap, he can’t stay upset with her.

But things quickly spiral out of control. She becomes obsessed with the pleasure that her newfound life affords her. Both from feeding and from sex. As Jake and Bradley start to tell her no, she pulls away from them.

They’re furious to find out that she turned a local boy from a wealthy family, after finding her in bed with him. The boy is thrilled, and mentions turning more people, staying young and beautiful and feeling like this forever. In a rage, Jake kills him and they realise they’ll have to move again.

She runs away from the two of them. Jake and Bradley part ways and spend the next two hundred years heart broken.

After setting up home in southern coastal California, Bradley lives a reclusive life in a big house, searching for purpose. Jake turns up in the middle of the night in 1984 and tells Bradley that he’s been following her, cleaning up her messes to keep her safe this whole time.

She has been turning people freely across the world, leaving families missing loved ones constantly. But she has been leaving a trail and now someone’s following her.

ik this / something very similar to this has been done in vampire literature before but I just can’t stop thinking about how sexy and scary it could be

[that-one-random-writer]

Rowdy Romance

Masterlist | A Southern Jake Series Here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader

Part 2

Summary: You are visiting with a friend and find yourself alone in the Hard Deck. You're both what he was expecting and not.

Warnings: Cursing, flirting, mentions of shotgun, bull riding, and one hunting reference to killing and preparing a deer. Word count: 1,291

The Hard Deck was full. The sun had dipped down below the water line. Your vacation had slowed down. Your friend had made plans with her husband. She was visiting while her husband was stateside.

He had been on deployment for the last year. You had come with her for moral support when you both would have to leave without him.

You found yourself at the beach during the day and spending your nights out sight seeing alone. You can't blame her for spending all her time with her husband.

The couple had just a few more months until he would be back home before being restationed. You weren't excited because she would be moving back out to wherever he was stationed, but at the same time you are excited for her.

You found yourself at the bar that all the locals raved about. Each store owner, that you had spoke to that day, all said that Friday nights were spent at the hard deck. You were at the bar sitting in one of the bar stools. A few locals, and khaki uniformed men had offered you a drink.

There was no interest. Daddy had always said "if he can't skin a deer then how is he gonna feed you when the government crumbles?" Old Southerners still remember the great depression and hold the doomsday prepping dear to their hearts.

You had noticed the sign and kept your phone off the bar. It laid in your back pocket of your dazzled jeans. They had rhinestones in the shape of bull heads. You had an old, tight wife beater top on that cropped a little above your belly button. You looked very out of place in San Diego. You caught a few eyes for that very reason.

The next pair to land on you leaned his arm against the wood beam. "You're from my neck of the woods. Miss, How'd you find yourself up here in California?" His drawl thick.

Your eyes caught sight of the mystery man looking up slowly. His khaki uniform definitely added a nice touch to the voice he carried. "I'm here for a friend of mine." You didn't go into too much detail.

"Well I'll have to thank your friend for sending an angel my way. Can I buy you a round as a welcome to California?" You smiled softly. "Jack on the rock." He smirked. "Your daddy must carry a shot gun wherever he goes for an order like that." He chuckled. "Yes sir, it's on the rack in his truck, or in his hands."

"Penny, can I get two jack on the rocks please?" She smiled. "Sure thing, hangman" your lips curl up. "Hangman... is that what your called round here" His classic smirk finds it's way toward you. "Yes ma'am. That's my call sign."

A small giggle erupts. "I'm not even gonna ask." His smirk still showing. "It's better that you dont." You break the touch barrier slapping his arm softly. "Honey don't say that. You'll make me want to know." Your Laughs strike between your words.

He grabs the two glasses from Penny. "Thank you, Miss Penny." You call out as she goes to the next customer. She smiles and waves as a you're welcome. "Come on, we're gonna go out by the beach." You follow him.

"I told you not to bet him dumbass." Pheonix chuckled at coyote. "Rooster had spent five minutes trying to serenade her, and the new guy tried buying her a drink too." Pheonix popped up. "Thanks for the piña coloda, FNG" pointing to the Fucking New Guy. Coyote continued. "She had walls up to the roof. There's no way he could have got her in 5 minutes flat."

Pheonix laughed resting her chin on her knuckles. "He just did." She scrunched her nose up. "He is an asshole but he is good at picking up women." She flicked a straw wrapper at Rooster chuckling at him. They all began playing pool, and the guys keeping a check on hangman judging his game, making bets on if you would end up going home with him by the end of the night.

Your eyes followed the shoreline, meeting up to the stars. Lights lined the edge of the patio. You stood at the rail leaning in to smell the saltwater, and hear the waves crashing. "Your Jack." He handed your drink to you. "So you know my name, what's yours?" You took a sip of your drink, and tell him your name. "But you can call me, Minnie. That's what they call me back home." You smile brightly.

"Where does that come from?" He leaned against the rail next to you. "Oh no no, if you want to know mine then you have to tell me yours, hangman." Eyebrow arched searching his eyes for a back story. He chuckled and flashed a genuine smile. "Well, I'm a pilot and we get call signs. They call me Hangman, but the 'a's are blank so you can fill them how you like. Thats how I got it." He looked down finishing the innuendo. You laugh wickedly.

"Hungman, How many California girls has that really worked on? How did you actually get that name?" His head shook, chuckling. "Okay, okay, my friends say I hang them out to dry in the sky. They are exaggerating, they're fine. I got their backs. What about you, Minnie?" He looks out to the ocean then back to your eyes.

"My family owns a farms in Texas. When I was about three, I walked around the farm in nothing but a diaper and Minnie hat. They called me 'Minnie', and it stuck." You giggled at the memories of the picture with chickens crowding around you with your Minnie hat on. "Texas? You around the Rusk area?" You nodded. "We're out in Lufkin."

"No way, my family has a pretty big cattle ranch out in Rusk. Small world." Your eyes widen. "The Seresin cattle ranch?" He almost spits out the sip he had just taken. "Umm," he chuckled through the next few words. "Yeah, that's it." He met your eyes again. "My family moved their farm to Lufkin about six years ago, we go to the rodeos and see your family there every year. I've been bucked off jóse a few times. We have had dinner over at their house. They mentioned they had a son in the navy. I'm guessing your Jake..." You trail your words.

"That's me." He chuckles, thinking about you riding on Jóse the bull. "Your momma is so proud of you. Your daddy is too." You smile thinking about how much his momma had to say about her baby jake. "She never got around to show me a picture, but she was very adamant that you are handsome and single." You took your stare back to the water to keep the burn of the cheeks down. "One of them is right.. " You trailed.

He placed a hand at the small of your back leaning against the rail with his other arm. Your bare skin tingling where his hand was. "Both of them are." He smirked while glancing down your curves. "I'm guessing these California girls ain't amounting to what you thought they'd be." He spoke slowly while playing with the hem of your shirt. "No ma'am, they are not." Your eyes met his, and you rounded into his arms and placed your hand on his shoulder.

He leaned up, allowing him to pull you closer to him, his arms wrapped around you. Your southern drawl thickened. "Well, I guess you better find yourself a cowgirl." Your Eyebrow raised, and a smirk crossed your lips. "I think I found one."

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

[siriuslysirius05]

Not His Son

Look, Tom knew that Bradley —Rooster, these days— wasn’t his son. Hell, he wasn’t even Maverick’s, a fact Bradley made very, very clear when he left that night. Ice remembers it like it was yesterday; Bradley had received a letter from USNA telling him that his application was, for whatever reason, pulled successfully. He’d approached Maverick with the subject, quickly blowing up at his godfather/adopted father once the truth was revealed. Pete Mitchell had pulled Bradley Bradshaw’s Naval Academy application. He left in a fury, shouting awful things that Tom knew Maverick dreamed about every night.

“You aren’t my dad. You never were. I hate you. I wish you died instead!”

Tom also thought of those words often. They were sharp thorns in his heart, haunted his every breath. Bradley was right, they weren’t his parents. And while they might have raised him, Iceman and Maverick were nothing but a heavy, burdened memory Bradley despised.

That didn’t mean they stopped caring. Especially now that Ice was a three star admiral, and Bradley was a full-fledged naval aviator. Hell, he was attending TOPGUN (at Ice’s secret referral). He was a grown man, an independent and strong man. He didn’t need Maverick, he didn’t need Iceman.

It didn’t stop Ice from keeping an eye on him, though. With his admiral status, Ice had the files of every single naval flight officer at his fingertips. Most of the time, Tom used the files to recommend squadrons and put together missions, but…

He still worried about the kid.

In actuality, it wasn’t all that often that Tom checked on Bradley. Every few months, and he usually didn’t tell Maverick the updates with the knowledge that his husband —they’d gotten married without Bradley there, but they did send an invite that went unanswered— would be hurt knowing Bradley was doing well without him. And that wasn’t narcissism or anything on Pete’s part; Bradley was, in all ways but blood, Pete’s kid. He always would be, even if the only surviving Bradshaw never spoke with him again.

It was Bradley’s second week at TOPGUN, and he was doing well. Top of his class, in fact. It brought both joy and a strange feeling to Ice’s chest.

He’d passed Bradley in the hallways of the air base several times in the past weeks, and every time he gave the man a warm smile. One of the other admirals on base, a two star by the callsign of Cyclone, teased him about the sudden appearance and disappearance of warmth on his face every time he was in the same general area as his kid.

Not his kid.

Today was a particularly bad day for Tom. His husband was stationed overseas and had been for the last month and a half, and Ice was missing him dearly. Plus, Ice had nightmares about Hop31 (better known as ‘the accident’ around Maverick, who flinched anytime ‘hop’ and ‘31’ were in the same sentence) and Goose’s death the night before.

Seeing Bradley strutting through base, a funky-pattern Hawaiian shirt on and wearing a pair of aviators, his 70s-pornstache perfectly groomed, was just salt in the wound. His (not) son was a spitting image of Nick Bradshaw, identical even in the walk. Goose always loved to strut and peacock about, showing off whatever shirt he had on.

Tom had tried to approach Bradley, just to say something. Hi. I miss you. Pete misses you. Anything, just to hear the young man’s voice. Would he sound like Goose? Bradley was raised in California, so he didn’t have the southern twang that Goose had, but maybe…

Bradley glared at Ice when he got near, turning and walking away. His friends, who Ice recognized as Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace and Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch, looked confused as they snapped to attention. Tom sighed, smiling sadly at the kids before turning to walk the other direction.

Later that day, Ice was watching the skies. His mind overlayed memories of Hop31, how *well* it was going, with the planes flying overhead. He knew who was up there right now. He knew that the F/A-18 that just barreled through the sky was none other than Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. Pride and guilt filled his chest, and he was suddenly overcome with emotion. Emotion he didn’t deserve to feel, because Bradley was not his son.

He turned away from the window, eyes wet.

((Story based on the short sketchy drawing I did in an hour or so…the uniform is probably very inaccurate just bear with me please))

[its-time-to-write]

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer. 

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.” 

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester. 

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying. 

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms. 

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid. 

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first. 

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you. 

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt. 

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home. 

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars. 

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug. 

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify. 

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up. 

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Elvis-mania”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Warning: mentions of COVID-19

MASTERLIST

COVID-19 took the world by storm and what was meant to just be some months in Australia became almost a year. Austin took this to his advantage to get more into the Elvis role, I supported him with any research he needed and with his weight gain, his accent. At first it was really enjoyable, I mean, dancing and singing to Elvis’ songs in the middle of the night, watching his movies and performances, watching Austin trying to recreate them. But then it started to get more serious, he started to go method.

I wasn’t a fan of method acting, I’ve never tried it before but I did have some co-stars that did it and it was like hell on earth, I’d like to think that he was going for a Marlon Brando route but it was starting to feel like Jared Leto when he played the Joker.

“Sit still!” I laughed as he didn’t stop moving around while I placed the hair dye on his brownish hair, he wasn’t a natural dark-haired man, as a boy his hair was this beautiful blonde.

“It smells disgusting, God, how I miss your hairdresser.” He said with a chuckle, his voice was a little thicker, a bit of a southern drawl to it.

“See? and you called me ridiculous whenever I went with her. I don’t know what she uses but it smells delicious.” I had my hairdresser back in California, she did my more trickier hairstyles, like the beehive ponytail and she did dye Austin’s hair black a couple of times before.

“Or maybe we were just high from all the chemicals, who knows?” He laughed again, yeah, maybe we did not ventilate well enough right now, I moved towards the window and opened it, not remembering that my gloves were pretty much still with hair dye, I stained that whole window up. To this day I still remember how much the landlord charged us for that one. After 30 minutes, we both kneeled beside the bathtub, I started rinsing his hair.

“Baby, you gonna drown me or something!” He said to me, if the water wasn’t too cold then it was too hot, or I was too aggressive with the rinsing.

“Then so be it!” I said to him, shampooing his hair.

Afterwards I even dried it and styled it, he saw himself in the mirror again, he finally had jet black hair again after months of just having this weird combination between black and blondish hair.

“I don’t know— I feel a little silly. Like an impersonator.” He had a grimace as he moved his hair side to side.

“You look really good. I promise.” I smiled at him and then kissed his cheek. “You can do this. Now let’s watch Viva Las Vegas for the fifth time, I’m finally getting the Ann-Margret dance.”

We did our research and everything, we knew little facts about Elvis, he liked knowing about Priscilla, I loved Priscilla. Austin found out this really interesting fact about Elvis and Priscilla’s bedroom time. As we were in bed, trying to spice things up.

“Wait, baby. We oughta try something new.” He said as he pulled away and got up from bed, he rummaged through a box of cameras we had, disposable ones, vintage ones, instants. He bought out an instax camera, with its film. “So— I read that Elvis and Priscilla did this and I wanted to try it out.”

“I’m up for it.” I smiled as I took off my nightgown coverup.

We started taking Polaroids, he made me pose, I was his model for the night. He grabbed my chin tenderly and moved it to the right direction, he got on top of me taking picture after picture. We even tried dress up, him as a policeman and doctor, I was a secretary, a maid, a teacher, we tried everything in the book.

He’d get in between my legs, kissing me all over, taking Polaroids while he was at it, taking Polaroids while I was at it, going down on him.

It was magical but it did make me feel ashamed whenever I looked at my purchase history and saw all the Polaroid films I bought during this time. We spent hundred of dollars in just the films for the instax.

I had a really good time with Austin but it didn’t really last long, until he submerged himself totally on Elvis. At first it was the voice and then it was the food, then it was his behavior. I couldn’t even remember the last time he slept with me. All I heard was Elvis, Elvis, Elvis— and not in the good way. Look, I understood him and everything but it was making me go nuts, I’m a big Elvis fan but he was just going bonkers. I lost count on how many books he read or how many hour he spent looking at Elvis stuff, he barely even spent time with Lori. I wanted to die whenever he called me ‘woman’ or ‘satnin’.

There were many times when he basically shut himself out, in the bedroom or the beach, it was like he was trying to torture me nonstop. I felt so useless because I wasn’t able to help him either. Whenever I did try to help him, he’d yell at me.

“Baby, please— you need to sleep.” I knocked on the office door, he had been there all day.

“Don’t bother me, woman.” He said sternly, I, being the stubborn I was, tried to get him out of there.

“Baby— you don’t need to indulge so much in Elvis. You should really come to sleep.” I knocked on the door once again, all I heard was silence afterwards but then the door opened aggressively.

“Are ya deaf or something?! Woman, I don’t want to hear another mouth comin’ out of your damn mouth. Ya hear me?” He said very aggressively, even he was taken aback. “Baby, you gotta let me do my damn job, so go to sleep, I’ll catch up to you later.” He dismissed me with his hand.

The king sized bed felt really empty without him there, cuddling me, kissing my head or forehead, we barely even slept on the same bed so in those cases, I’d bring Lori with me and hug her all night. I woke up to every sudden movement, thinking it was Austin but it was just my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. And whenever we did have alone time in bed, I tried wearing my cutest nightgowns, I even wore perfume to bed, Miss Dior, I adored that scent and so did Austin. God, I even wore my makeup to bed!

“Hey.” I whispered while I got in bed besides him, his back leaning against the headboard as he read Train to Memphis, I started kissing his neck softly, rubbing his bicep.

“Calm down, satnin.” He said, not taking his eyes off the book. “Ya know I’m trying to pay attention to this.” He kept on reading and reading in silence until he finally spoke up. “There a thousand women who would actually care to help and listen to me while I do my damn job. You gonna sit and listen or not?”

I stopped, I laid back and stared at him, storms in my eyes. I was trying everything to keep him looking at me yet nothing worked.

“But-“

“But nothing, woman.” He said, there was silence again, he kept on reading and mumbling the words. I sat up on the bed, hugging my knees very subtly.

“I can’t stand it! It’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to hear you anymore!” I yelled out in frustration, I even closed my eyes.

“I see a mad woman.” He said on that pretentious mumble.

“No. A woman with needs that needs to be desired. You can have your Elvis books and me too.”

He looked at me and without even saying anything, she went back to reading his book, leaving me feeling humiliated.

I’ve been dying to write this part— be prepared to see our Cynthia suffer.

[reversedanatomy]

Finding Peace: Chapter 2

Summary: More of an in-between from the last chapter. Reader processing emotions after the breakup and making big decisions.

TW: swearing, some mentions of violence

Denial. This was the first step of recovering from a breakup. The note Wanda had written for you the morning she left was unlike her. When there was a serious topic that needed to be addressed, she always preferred face-to-face conversations, even when she was away for long periods of time on her international trips. Your mind raced like cars on a track, revisiting the same thoughts again and again until you grew weary from worry. You settled on an unlikely, but possible conclusion that maybe she was kidnapped. Yes, you thought, her kidnapper forced her to write this note with the intent play it off like one of her work trips.

You knew this was stupid, but you held onto the idea that she would be coming back. You always left your cellphone ringer on, now, in the slim chance that Wanda would be contacting you. You’d rush to answer your phone at every buzz, ding, or alarm you heard, even when you were out with company.

Your mom started to worry. She knew the situation between you and Wanda had been rocky for some time, and she expressed her relief that you two had parted. She would call you frequently, however, to reassure you and offer for you to come visit and stay with her.

“Maybe what you need is a new change of scenery,” your mom quietly suggested. You held the phone in between your shoulder and ear as you cooked over the stovetop.

“Yeah, but I’ve got a job here that I can’t just leave,” you retorted. You went to check the vegetables you set in the oven.

“It’s a pretty big company you work for. Can’t you ask them to relocate you?” You opened the oven door, feeling the heat burn across your face. You reached to check if your carrots were fork tender, and you shot back as you accidentally bumped your hand on the hot glass baking dish. You bit your tongue to keep yourself quiet, but the phone dropped to the floor.

“Shit, mom, I’m sorry,” you went to pick the phone back up and return it to your ear. “I missed what you said.”

“Don’t swear at me, Y/N,” your mother was direct.

“I’m sorry.”

“What I was saying was that you should ask to be relocated. Your lease is ending soon, and I know rent is increasing where you’re at. Without Wanda there, you’re going to need some help staying financially secure in a place like Chicago.” She was right. You didn’t have much of an option once your lease ended. You could either move somewhere cheaper, alone, or move back in with your mom in southern California. Both options stressed you. “I’ve already looked into it. There’s a position opening up to be a direct assistant under management here. It’s a bit less than what you make now, but, with your dad and I making dual income, you can stay here rent-free and bulk up your savings.”

“I’ll think about it.” If you gave her an open-ended answer, she’d pressure you less.

“Alright, hon. Let me know what you decide. I’ll call again tomorrow in the afternoon. Does three work for you?”

“Yeah, that works for me. Talk to you then.” You made quick goodbyes with each other before hanging up the phone and returning to your cooking. You held your hand under the cold water, letting the rush cool the anxiety in your head. You thought for a moment how your life was going to change when you moved out of your apartment, when you moved out of Chicago.

You ate dinner while searching for jobs on your computer. You investigated the job your mother was talking about. It was an assistant-to-the-manager position that offered significantly less pay than the social media manager position you currently held. Sure, you could put all your money into savings, but you sneered at the idea of moving back in with your parents when you were in your mid-twenties.

You continued to browse through the list of jobs your company offered until your eyes laid upon an office manager position that paid the same rate you were making now, but in a small, incomprehensible name of a town in Norway. You always admired the idea of visiting Norway. It reminded you of the mountains you and your family would drive through to go camping in the Pacific Northwest every summer. You also loved the idea of living near the water. Chicago’s waterfront was nice, but the pollution of the city ruined your connection to the water. Maybe this could be the change of scenery that your mother was suggesting.

It was a risky application considering you weren’t a Norwegian citizen, but you had more than enough experience from your current position to secure this job. You put your heart and soul into this application. When you finally submitted it, you leaned back into the kitchen stool and sighed. It creaked under your weight as you tilted your head back. For a moment you studied the stipples decorated across your ceiling. It was unlikely you’d be offered the position, but you felt more confident in leaving Chicago behind when you finished.

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

You waited several days. Every morning, afternoon, and night you checked your email both at work and at home, praying for a response from your job application. You hadn’t made your application aware to anybody yet. It wasn’t like you had a lot of people to tell, anyway. Since dating Wanda, you two had fallen into a state of codependency with each other. Wanda had possessive traits, and you were a doormat whenever those traits were expressed in an argument. Regarding your family and your closest friend Darcy, however, you’d need to be prepared to convincingly tell them why you were leaving the country to seek ‘refuge’ somewhere else if offered an interview.

You thought about this from the comfort of your bed. You held your phone clutched against your chest and continued to stare at the ceiling just as you had when you submitted your application. Your mind felt all kinds of queasy and restless. Nauseating. It was the type of nausea that bubbled in your stomach rather than your throat. You were thinking about Wanda. What if she came back when you left the country? What if she came back bruised and bloody after escaping her hypothetical kidnapper, looking for solace with you, but you weren’t there? It felt like torture waiting for that damned email. Waiting and worrying became more of a reason to keep your mind off of Wanda, off of the breakup.

You were so hyper-focused on if a decision had been made that you were neglecting the rest of your notifications. There were several texts from Darcy, one text from your father, and several missed calls and voicemails from your mother. You had turned the ‘Read Receipts’ option off on your phone so you could still peek at the messages without getting an earful from Darcy. She was wondering where you were, if you died, or if someone had by chance stolen you off of the streets. She then sent a copy-paste message that if you didn’t reply to her message you’d have bad luck for 7 years. You couldn’t help but giggle at that.

Right then, you got another message from Darcy. It read: I CAN SEE THAT YOU’RE READING MY MESSAGES, ASSHOLE!!!

Shit.

You rechecked your phone settings. You forgot to turn the ‘Read Receipts’ option off. Or, you had accidentally had turned it on sometime and just forgot about it. Shit, shit, shit, you started fumbling with your phone. Your heart started racing when a notification popped up that Darcy was trying to call you. Your phone buzzed and slipped from your hands, landing on your face. Your nose unfortunately answered the call, and you could hear Darcy’s animated voice booming from the other side.

“I’ve been trying to contact you for almost a week!” She whisper-shouted through gritted teeth. Her voice was breathy. Maybe her heart was twisting and beating just as fast as yours. You picked your phone up off of your face and brought it to your ear. The room started spinning as you tried to muster a response.

“I-I-I’m sorry?” You squinted your eyes and furrowed your eyebrows.

“You’re sorry? I’ve been trying to contact you with no response and you’re sorry?” You could hear Darcy exhale through her nose and scoff. “Look, I get it. Wanda ran away from you, but you need to stop running away from everybody else.” She was right. It hurt to hear, but Darcy was right, and you didn’t know how to respond. The words you were forming from your mouth lost all form and function, and they came out in a twisted scramble. You were playing a piano and pressing all the broken keys. You slid your fingers through your hair and gripped into your scalp.

Darcy just sighed.

“What’s going on?” Darcy lowered her voice until it was soothing and silvery. Her voice instantly settled into your muscles, relaxing you in preparation for the news you were to deliver.

“I…may or may not have applied to a job in Norway,” you closed your eyes and waited for Darcy to berate you about running away again. You heard Darcy exhale from her nose once more.

“Y/N, you’re acting irrationally because Wanda left. Look, you and I both knew this was coming. Fleeing the country isn’t going to get her out of your head. It’s just going to isolate you from the only support you have now.”

“Yeah, but what if I meet some hot MILF out there who turns my life upside down and fixes all of my problems?” You attempted to lighten the mood and forced out a laugh. Nothing.

“This isn’t funny, Y/N,” she emphasized your name to bring your attention back to the topic at hand.

“I know.”

“Then stay. There’s another internship opening up with Dr. Foster and you don’t need to be a college student to get in. You can work with me,” Darcy offered in the same tone your mother did when bringing up the assistant position back home.

“No, Darcy. I really do want this position. I think it could be good for my mental health to get out of the country and be somewhere new.”

“Do you even speak Norwegian?”

“No, but I can learn.”

“God,” there was a pause. “…okay. Wanna run by the bookstore with me tomorrow and see if they have learning material for that?” Darcy was being patient with you regardless of your spontaneous decision to leave the USA. She really cared about you, but you could tell from her voice she was worried, maybe even scared about you leaving. You felt sorrow fill your heart as you heard her voice break while speaking. You nodded to yourself.

“You don’t have to do that, Darce,” you replied.

“I want to.”

“Okay. Can I at least pick you up from your apartment?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then. Noon work?”

“Yeah. See you, Darce. Love you.”

Click.

[party-hearses]

i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 1

i'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

series masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, ex!Tommy Miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

Summary: After your two year relationship with Tommy Miller ends, Joel takes you in — and it’s home like you’ve never quite known before. 

Series Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, language, infidelity, eventual smut, age difference, soft!joel, AU - no cordyceps outbreak, Sarah doesn’t exist (sorry), Tommy stans don’t come for me

Wordcount: 5.8 k

A/N: I’ll be honest — I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t written a fic in damn near 20 years, so I’m just kind of throwing this out into the void to see what happens. I'm playing fast and loose with years and ages; it's 2023 and there's no outbreak. Also, not a personal fan of the ‘brothers’ trope, but…here we are. 

…I can’t wait until your next business trip…

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Who even uses email to have an affair, anymore? 

…miss your hands…

The words are hot against your eyelids, seared into your line of vision, despite the dull ache from your own hands. It had been a week, and the wound still feels gaping — all consuming, bitter pain licking at your insides what feels like every minute of the day. 

     “Dammit, peach. I’ve barely seen you in a week and a half, and this is the bullshit you start?” 

     “Oh, so it’s my fault that you’re having an affair?”

     “I didn’t say that!” 

     Tommy’s eyes wild, hands on his hips, southern drawl like syrup over each syllable. 

     “You’re always workin’. In meetings. Pourin’ yourself into spreadsheets and budgets. What  am I s’posed to do?”

     His hands in the air, desperate, shoulders hunched.

     “Still sounds a lot like you’re blaming me.”  

You can feel the tears well up, and you swallow hard to stop them. Do not cry at work. Do NOT cry at work. You breathe deep, the burning in your lungs waning, but not extinguishing. The usual busy noises of your office are absent today, save the soft purr of the air conditioning and the receptionist’s furious clicking at her keyboard. Even the phones are silent; no frantic calls from upstairs to divert your attention from the constant replay of that night. 

Finally feeling steady enough to remove your hands from your eyes, you lock your fingers together and lay your cheek on top of them. Everything feels heavy — your workload, your personal life, your head. Your gaze slowly flickers to the office window, the sunlight streaming through, the heat scorching. It seems to call out to your blood, making you feel restless, agitated, but also so fucking tired.  

Sleep had eluded you since Tommy had left, and you’d barely been able to steal moments here and there, between dinner for one on the couch and the canned laughs of late-night talk shows. How different your life had been even two weeks ago.  

“Did you bring lunch?” 

Abruptly brought back to earth, your eyes snap up to the face of your colleague, Ava. 

“Um, yeah. Just some veggie sticks and hummus. I, uh, haven’t been feeling terribly hungry.” You smile weakly, the attempt at a joke feeling like a weight around your neck. 

Ava nods in understanding, her eyes sympathetic. She had been the second person you’d called the next morning, after your older sister. Kit, five years your senior, had answered, already sounding distracted by her two young children. 

     “Well, girl, I can’t say I didn’t tell you so. Getting involved with a man seventeen years older than you…” 

While Kit had been hard and borderline disinterested, Ava had served as a warm landing for your sobbing, rushing to the empty apartment on a Saturday morning to soothe you. 

“It’s Friday. We can duck out early, grab a drink? You could use one, and Jackson isn’t back from his meeting upstairs.” Ava checks her watch, confirming. “It’s not like anyone will even miss us.” 

Ava is dependable, fun, beautiful. Her cool California attitude compliments her chic New York style, but she had called Austin home since college. She could wrap anyone around her finger with ease, and her insistence on being your friend made your heart clench. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” You nod solemnly, tears now pricking at your eyes from the tenderness you feel towards her. 

She meets the tenderness with a wide grin. “Knew you would, doll.” 

As you turn to gather your bag, a sudden lightning bolt of fear strikes you. 

“Av, what if he’s there? What if we see him?” 

She swallows down a laugh. “Tommy Miller? Downtown?” She leans closer to you, raising her eyebrows. “He wouldn’t be caught dead at Taquero Mucho. Not willingly, at least.” 

Ava is right, as always. The lush pink floral interior and neon signage on the walls of the restaurant do not, and would not, mesh with Tommy Miller’s bearish sensibilities. You instantly feel more at ease, letting Ava order pink, fruity drinks for the both of you. 

One cocktail turns into two turns into three, and the warm buzz in your veins settles your mind for the time being. Ava sits across from you, happily munching on tortilla chips and chattering away. 

“I couldn’t believe Belinda said that! Like, retire already, grandma.” She grins, rolling her eyes. 

You chuckle, only half hearing the story she’s been telling. Noticing, she gently shifts in her seat, drawing closer to you. 

“Doll, I’m sorry to have been chatting your ear off. You know how I get. Let’s hear- ah, wait!” She notices your empty glass, and as if she had snapped her fingers, the server materializes. 

“Two more, please.” She nods toward the server, who rushes away to put the order in, lest they keep Ava waiting. “Okay. So… what are you going to do? We need to get you out of that apartment. And since you refuse to stay with me…” 

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap. If you thought crying at work was bad, crying at lunch was worse. You clear your throat, eyes catching your chipped fingernail polish.  

“I don’t know, Av. He- it’s his apartment. It’s not like I don’t make enough to get something on my own, but… I don’t know. It all feels so empty.” 

Ava nods as the server places two more pink cocktails on the table. Mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to him, she reaches for it before responding.  

“Where’s he staying? And for how long?” 

“His brother’s. Said he’ll give me as much time as I need…but I don’t want to be there anymore. I don’t feel like I can be. Maybe I should get out of Austin?” 

Ava raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. You can’t let him run you out of town! That’s outrageous. He’s not even worth that.” She rolls her eyes again. 

You reach for your drink, sipping it slowly, willing it to quiet the bitter fire in your blood. 

     “Peach, come on. I- I didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything. You’re gonna throw two years away over a one time thing? A-a mistake?” 

     “It should have never happened, Tommy! Fucking a client? And I know it wasn’t just once! What the fuck were you thinking?” 

     Tommy’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t speak. His hand goes to the back of his neck, kneading. 

     “Guess I wasn’t thinkin’.” 

Tommy had shattered you. Betrayed you. Split you open and cut your insides out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that he wasn’t a good man. Complicated? Yes. Hard to read? Yes. Prone to making colossal fucking mistakes? Absolutely. But you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t bad. 

You shake your head at Ava slowly, sadly. “I don’t know what I did wrong, Av. Two years. I don’t know what happened.” 

Your eyes well up, and this time you can’t stop the tears. You sniffle, wiping them away quickly, as Ava puts her hand on your forearm. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, doll. He’s the one who fucked up. He’s the one who ruined everything.” 

“H-he said I work too much. I’m ‘not there’ enough. And…and…the worst p-part is, I don’t think he’s wrong!” It takes everything in you not to wail. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to focus on the in-out in-out of your breathing. 

Ava signals for the check, another of her magic abilities. You can feel the server’s eyes on you as he brings it, quietly clicking his tongue against his teeth. Another sad drunk girl. Tsk, tsk. It’s barely 3 o’clock. Ava hums softly, scribbling her signature on the receipt. 

“There’s not a justification in the world for what he chose to do. You worked hard for your career, busted your ass to be where you’re at. It’s no excuse for him to have a full-blown affair with a client.” She closes the receipt inside the booklet and stands. “Now let’s get you home, so you can cry it out in peace.”

Unlocking the door of the apartment fills you with dread. The key feels unwieldy in your hand, and you consider for a split second whether it will feel daunting or freeing to give it back to Tommy. You let yourself in, the apartment hauntingly empty — just as you had left it, just as it had been for the past seven nights. 

You’ve only spoken to Tommy sparingly over the course of the week. A few short texts here and there, mostly about the logistics of the arrangement you are both now navigating. He had left for Joel’s late the night it happened, a duffel bag slung low over his shoulder, slamming the door on his way out. 

     “This it, peach?”  

…miss your hands…

 Dropping your bag next to the front door, the tears don’t stop once they start.

Ava had offered to come up, but you knew you couldn’t let her. She didn’t deserve to have to wallow with you, no matter how much she wanted to be there for you. 

 It had been a good distraction, lunch with her, but you still didn’t know what your plan was. Where you’d be going, where you’d be living. 

Hugging yourself, you shuffle into the guest bathroom to wash your face. After Tommy had left, you’d moved everything you needed out of the main bedroom and bathroom, suddenly feeling like a trespasser there. 

     Had he brought her here? Did she sleep in this bed? Did they talk about the future together? What does Joel think?

The last question to run through your mind catches you by surprise, a small gasp escaping your lips. What does Joel think? 

If Tommy was stoic and gruff, Joel was downright intimidating. You’ve only seen him smile a few times, and you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard him laugh. He wasn’t, however, unkind, taking to calling you by the same nickname Tommy had, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. Like he couldn’t form his mouth around the languid, round letters - p e a c h. Angular as he was, he had always made you feel welcome, in his own, quiet way, teasing Tommy about you being out of his league. The familial resemblance was strong between the brothers, with their dark waves and warm eyes. But something about Joel made your soul clench, as if he had curved his fingers around your ribs and impressed himself upon your heart. He was comfortable, in a cloudy way — never revealing himself, but not pressuring you to, either. Amicable silence, as it were. 

Thinking about Joel calling you out of Tommy’s league makes you scoff, now. 

“The rich client with the kitchen remodel isn’t too out of his league, is she?” You mumble to yourself, cold water pooling between your palms. 

     “I don’t want it to end this way, peach.”  

     “I didn’t want it to end at all, Tommy.” 

 You bring the water to your face, scrubbing away the salt of dried tears and sting of betrayal.

The sun had dipped below the horizon when you wake up later on the couch. Fumbling for your phone with one hand, you rub your eyes with the other. As you check the time, your phone alerts you to two new text messages, delivered two hours ago.

Tommy Miller: Will you be home tonight? Tommy Miller: I need to stop by to get a few things. 

Your hands tremble as you read and reread the messages. You rub your eyes again, unsure if you’re understanding the text in front of you clearly. It doesn’t change. Panic rises in your throat, searing and sour. 

A vicious cross between fury and complete despair surges through you, and you drop your phone into your lap. Tears pinch at the backs of your eyes. Forget figuring out where to live, you hadn’t even considered how you’d next face Tommy.  

     I don’t want to see you, Tommy. Do you want to talk? I’ll be out, feel free to drop by. Please come home. 

You weigh your options, constructing and dismantling multiple messages. Retrieving the phone, you pray he can’t see that abhorrent blue bubble that indicates you’re typing. That shows him you’re there. 

As if he’d read your mind, your phone vibrates, his name and picture flashing on the screen. The picture gives you pause — a day you had spent on Lake Austin, the wind whipping through his hair, a broad smile on both of your faces. You feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Focusing on your breathing, clenching your teeth, you accept the call.  

 “Hey, Tommy.” Your voice is small. So small. You feel your cheeks burn at how stupid you feel. You should be screaming at him — biting back the venom he instilled in you — but all you can manage is barely a whisper.  

He sounds relieved. “Hey, peach. Didn’t know if I’d catch ya.” 

You hum discontentedly. How can he be so cool about this?  

“Uhhh, well, I, uh, need to stop by the apartment tonight to grab some things. Would that be okay?” 

You don’t know what to say. Would it be okay?  

“It’s your apartment.” 

The response surprises you, that same venom bubbling over without your permission.

Tommy sighs. 

“I don’t want it to be like this, darlin’. Can we talk? Please?” 

“Can you make it here without sleeping with a client?” 

Tommy laughs hollowly. “Guess I deserve that. Sassy today, huh?” 

You picture him then, on Joel’s couch, fidgeting with the hem of his button down with his free hand. Pressed against the cushions, eyes to the ceiling. Gently annoyed with you for ignoring his texts. Football would be switched on in the background, and your heart thrums when you think of Joel being there, watching him. What does Joel think?   

You clear your throat, refocusing your attention. 

“Let’s get this over with, Tommy.”  

Sassy, indeed.

It was easier to be hard over the phone, joined by nothing more than wires somewhere in space. But as Tommy stands in front of you now, elbows on the kitchen island, hands stretching towards you, all you feel is the velvety pull of attraction. The soft lull of two years spent shrouded in each other. 

His voice is low, but soft — practically a purr. 

“Baby. How do we move past this?” 

You don’t meet his gaze, wrapping your arms around yourself. Looking at anything but him, anything but those warm eyes. You know that if you do, it will be over. 

“Tommy…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s that easy. You had an affair. You didn’t forget to take the trash out, or-or-or make a shitty comment about my friends. You slept with someone! You had a relationship with her.” Your voice is measured, eyes dragging from the floor to the ceiling. Avoiding. 

“What can I do, peach? Please, just tell me. I’ll do anything.” 

 “It doesn’t change what happened.” You cross your arms over your chest, defiant now. “It won’t change what happened.” 

Exasperated, Tommy slams his hand on the counter, drawing his body to its full height. He’s broad — so broad — his shoulders squared. 

“I get it, okay? I fucked up. You’ve made it clear. Joel has made it clear. I fuckin’ get it!” He clenches his fists, bringing them up to his face. “I fuckin’ get it.” 

You drop your eyes instantly as your pulse quickens. “What do you mean, Joel made it clear?” 

Tommy sighs, deeply, not removing his hands from his face. “Joel will barely fuckin’ talk to me. Can’t get more’n two words out of him. Said he doesn’t blame you for bein’ done with me. Said I know better. And you know what? Yeah, he’s right. I do. Can’t even argue with’m.” 

You hum cooly in agreement, your pulse thrumming in your ears. There is a sudden acute awareness of the change taking place in your perception of Tommy following his words; he’s been wrenched open and put on display for you, and the need to step back from the jarring offering is nearly suffocating.  

“Okay. Okay.” Hands falling to his waist, revealing his eyes. Bloodshot, tired. Surrendering, but sharp. His voice, softer now, velvet dipped in whiskey. “I’m sorry, peach. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back. I…I know I really fucked up.” 

You hold his desperate gaze for a moment before lowering your eyes to the floor again. 

“Tommy… ” His name splintering across your lips. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” That small voice again, cracking. Shattering. Sparkling pieces scattered across the kitchen floor around your feet. Meeting his offering with outstretched, empty palms. Nothing left to give. 

He drops his head, tucking his chin to his chest, and exhales a shaky breath. “Okay, peach. I hear ya.”

You can see his eyes bright with unshed tears. This is the softness that you know, that you’ve craved. The hushed tenderness that you’d shared beneath bed sheets, woven between fingertips brushed against silk skin, delicate whispers in the dark of a once shared bedroom.  

As good as strangers, now. 

The silence settles between you, mourning both what once was and could have been.

When the door closes with Tommy on the other side of it, it feels final. An unfamiliar liquid sense of relief floods your veins, and you breathe deeply. For the first time in a week, you feel like you can suck in enough air to actually fill your lungs. You hadn’t recognized the somber, weepy creature you’d become, and you were sure no one else had, either. Ava had treated you like you were made of glass, afraid you would shatter at any moment. And as much as you had needed that, your stomach twisted into knots at feeling so helpless. Ending things with Tommy — officially — felt like giving yourself permission to dig out the shards and stitch the wound.  

You take in the room around you - a blanket strewn across the arm of the couch, wine glasses littering the coffee table, bottles lined up on the floor in front of it. You shake your head, in something that feels a little like disbelief. The reality of leaving this apartment - your home - had begun to truly set in, but the question of where you would land hung heavy in the air. 

Of course Kit would take you in, if she wasn’t multiple states and thousands of miles away. Ava was an option, having offered her couch to you almost the moment she found out, but you had leaned so heavily on her already that taking more would have made you feel too guilty. A hotel would be too expensive for an open-ended move out date, though the prospect of not having to make your own bed or wash your own sheets was tempting.  

Dropping yourself onto the couch with a heavy sigh, you begin to aimlessly scroll through the contact list in your phone. You know, deep down, that it’s for show, though you don’t know for who. You know, too, that you’ll end up at Ava’s, despite your unwillingness to do so. 

 You lean back, pulling your legs up and stretching them across the cushions. Reaching across the empty wine glasses for the television remote, you click it on before throwing your arm over your eyes. You don’t care what’s on, you just need the sounds. Of people. Of laughing. Of life. Resigning yourself to calling Ava in the morning, you slip into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The Saturday morning sun finds you still curled up on the couch, your legs pulled close to your core. Without opening your eyes, you drop your hand to the floor, feeling for your phone. Finding it nestled partially beneath the frame of the couch, you bring it up to your face, cracking your eyes as little as possible to check the time. There’s a missed call, and when it catches your attention, your eyes fly open completely. 

 Joel Miller - 1 Missed Call & Voicemail

“What the fuuuuck… ” you mumble, swiping to your calls app and bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Uh, hey peach. It’s Joel. Gimme a call back when you get this.” 

You can’t quite place his tone of voice, and your hands tremble as your brain rolls through all the reasons he might be calling you. Did something happen? Is he angry that Tommy is still at his place? Is he angry that you ended it with Tommy? Is he going to try to convince you to take him back? You play the voicemail again, to see if you can catch any stormy inflections in his deep voice - though you glean nothing more than a hazy awareness of the hunger coursing through your blood when he speaks.  

Finally sitting up and crossing your legs beneath you, you stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity. It’s not that Joel scares you, but you don’t know of any time that he’s called you for any reason. Worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth, you finally press the little image of a phone next to his name and wait for the call to connect.

“Yeah?” Joel’s tone is curt, and you can tell he’s at work based on the construction noises you hear in the background. It sets your teeth on edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself. Steeling your nerves.  

“Heyjoelit’s-” you manage to squeak, before you recognize the quiet way his breath hitches. 

“Peach.” and he’s soft. So soft. Softer than you’ve ever known him to be. And it’s your name on his tongue; honeyed and heavenly. You could drown in it. 

“Hi,” you whisper. “I’m just…returning your call.” 

He doesn’t answer immediately, but you hear the opening and closing of a door, the groan of an office chair, and then silence. You would think he’d hung up if you couldn’t hear his deep, even breathing. 

“Peach,” he finally says again, and your skin flares. He clears his throat. “I—there’s— you doin’ okay?” His words are rushed, clumsy, as if he’s trying to get them all out at once. The thought that Joel Miller has anything to say to you, much less too much to say to you, clouds your mind. “Could kill Tommy. Fuckin’ bastard.” 

You laugh once, idly. “I’m holdin’ it together, Joel.” 

“Attagirl.”  

Your skin prickles, and you draw in a surprised gasp. 

He continues, unaware of the change in your breathing. “Look, I, uh, know you’re busy, so I’ll get t’the point. I’ve got an extra room. For you. If ya want it, I mean. I know you’re tryin’ to get out of Tommy’s place, and I’m not lookin’ to rush you or anythin’, just..wanted to offer it up. Rent free, ‘n all that.” You imagine him running his hands through his hair as he stumbles through his speech, clenching his teeth. “Least I could do, with my brother bein’ the dickhead he is.” 

Oh. It’s pity — he feels sorry for you. You bite your tongue, sink your fingernails into your palm, force yourself to focus through the haze in your eyes. Stupid. Stupid girl. 

“Joel, I—” 

“I know ya probably have friends you can stay with. I’m not tryin’ t’be weir — peach, is this weird?” He’s lost in his own thoughts, but stops abruptly when the question escapes. He sounds just as surprised by it as you are.  

 It hangs in the air between you for a moment, and you relish just slightly in the idea that he’s floundering.  

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” you reply, gently. “I’m okay to figure something out on my own. I’m a big girl.” 

“Oh, peach, no. No.” His response is quick, and firm; without any hesitancy, or a second thought. “Don’t for a minute think I don’t know how capable y’are. I know you can, I just don’t want you to have to.” 

 His words sizzle across your flesh, urgent and pleading. They leave you feeling dazed, unsure of the reality of the conversation. Your eyes flick to the furnishings of the apartment, desperate for something to ground you. Trepidation clutches at your throat, rendering you speechless. 

Joel shifts in his chair, and you hear him let out a long breath. “I- I know we don’t know each other. I feel like I’m scarin’ you, darlin’.” 

You shake your head, grasping for what to say. Chest tightening at the thought of his worry, the words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. “What would Tommy say?” 

It feels like a condemnation; speaking it aloud, between the two of you. As if it would make Joel suddenly realize how wrong it was, to ask this of you. To offer this to you. 

“Tommy doesn’t get to say anythin’.” His whisper-soft tone now a growl, clawing at your insides. It covers you from head to toe, and you feel, for the first time in a very long time, shielded from the hurt. A hurt that exceeded the past week, or Tommy entirely. A hurt that was buried so far inside yourself that the aching reminder it even existed left you reeling. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you silently scold yourself for crying again. 

The silence on the phone is comfortable, as if Joel knows that you’re digesting everything he’s saying. True to his word, he’s not rushing you — just sharing the space with you, allowing you to take it all in. 

A loud knocking sounds from his end, and it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Shit, sorry peach. I gotta go.” He sounds further away, muffled; the intimacy of the conversation shattered, as if you had imagined it altogether. 

Then, abruptly, his warm, inviting timbre restored: “Please think about it. Bye, darlin’.”

 “I mean, are you thinking about it?” Ava questions, her eyes on the shirt she’s folding. She’s cross legged on the floor, while you stack books in the cardboard box at your feet. 

It hadn’t occurred to you how little you had to call your own, until you had to put it all in boxes.  

You don’t respond to Ava’s question immediately, instead chewing on your bottom lip gently. Turning it over and over in your mind, formulating the most diplomatic response. 

“How bad would it be if I was?” You avoid her eyes, which you know have turned to daggers at your back. 

It’s her turn to mull the question over, bobbing her head side to side as she considers. 

“Tommy’d be pissed.” It’s pointed, but not malicious. Honest. “But…we don’t care what Tommy thinks anymore, do we?” 

 You drop your head, smiling mildly behind the curtain of your hair. No, we in fact, do not. 

“Plus, he’s very…handsome.” Ava chooses her words carefully, but you know to read between the lines: Joel is fuckin’ hot. “The whole ‘older man’ thing really works for you, babe.” 

“Kit would be more upset than Tommy, I guarantee it.” You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. You get cheated on by someone more than fifteen years older than you, and immediately move in with someone even older? You imagine your sister tutting at you, ever the mother-figure. 

“No doubt.” Ava rolls her eyes affectionately as you turn to her. You plant your hands on your hips and survey the bedroom around you. “Seriously, though, how would the…logistics of living with Joel work? Would you, like, have dinner together? Hang out? Be friends?”

You laugh, despite the anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t know, Av. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m kind of hung up on the whole ‘moving in with my ex-boyfriend’s brother’ part of it all.” 

Now it’s her turn to plant her hands at her hips. “Are we still harboring some feelings about Tommy Miller, doll?” Her eyebrow quirks. 

“Av! Come on. We spent two years together! I’m not just gonna get over it like that.” You snap your fingers before bending down to close the now-full box below you. 

“You know what they say…the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Ava waggles her eyebrows, and you laugh, full-bellied, at her levity. “You’re a fox, girl. Believe it or not.” 

You roll your eyes, shoving the box out of the door of the bedroom, into the hallway. 

“And he’ll be helping you move all this, right? To his house?” 

“Nope!” you chirp brightly, “that would be you, babe!”

Kit, as you had anticipated, is not thrilled about the idea of you moving in with Joel. You call her from your office phone on Monday morning, gripping the receiver so hard your knuckles are white. 

“Are you kidding? How are you even entertaining the idea?” Her voice is unflinching, and you tap the fingers of your free hand against your desktop, mildly annoyed. 

“I’m 28, Kit.” You remind her, as you always do. “I’m the one who would deal with the fallout. Not you. Besides, it’s not like I have a ton of options.” 

She scoffs, and you can imagine her rolling her eyes. “So you’ve told him yes, then?”  

“No! That’s why I’m…taking a survey. Feeling it out.” You mumble, “You’re obviously not on board.” 

Kit sighs, drawn out and heavy. “I know you don’t care what I think. I know you’re an adult. I just…worry about you. I’m so far away, and if anything happened…” 

You cut her off. “I appreciate that. A lot. But at some point, I have to take care of myself.” 

“I don’t think moving in with a 50 year old man qualifies as taking care of yourself.” She’s trying to be delicate, you can tell, but her remark is biting. 

Twirling the phone cord around your fingers, you purse your lips. 

“Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? Maybe an extended vacation?” You can picture the sticky countertops, loud toys, an uncomfortable pullout couch. And Kit’s husband, awkward and gangly, never shutting up about ‘the economy’. Kit sounds somewhat hopeful, though, and it makes your heart quiver. 

“Kit…I can’t leave my job. The one stable thing I have going for me.” 

 “They have finance jobs here.” 

 “I’m not letting Tommy run me out of Austin.” You echo Ava’s words, an indignant feeling rising in your chest. “I’ve got a whole career here. This is…a minor setback. If I do move in with Joel, it won’t be for forever.”    

She laughs softly, but you clock the reluctance. 

“I promise. I’m okay. I am okay. I will be okay.” 

Kit pauses. “You’ll tell me if you’re not?” 

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” 

“Well,” she clicks her tongue against her teeth, “best of luck, peach. It sounds like you have your mind made up.”

You shove the last box into the back of your Subaru, and dust your hands off on your leggings. 

     “Are you absolutely sure you’re okay with this, Joel?” 

     “Yes. Stop askin’ me.”   

      “If I’m too much, at all, I don’t have to stay.” 

     “Peach.” It’s a warning. “It’s Tommy that I need out of my space.” 

Calling Joel back to accept his offer had been harder than every other aspect of moving out of Tommy’s apartment. Once you and Ava had packed all of your belongings, you stood back to observe — and it was like you had never lived there in the first place. The only thing that truly felt different about the space was that you knew you didn’t live there anymore. You feel a pang in your chest thinking about how Tommy would feel without you there — you didn’t know if him missing you or not missing you would be worse. 

“Anything left?” Silas, Ava’s boyfriend-du-jour asks, from your elbow. 

You shake your head, pulling down the hatch to close the back of the car. “Just the key. Which you don’t have to stick around for.” You give him a watery smile, feeling the weight of the day through every muscle in your body. 

He nods. “Cool, cool. I’ll grab Ava. We can meet you over there?” 

You hum in agreement before turning back to the building. Going up the steps to the second floor feels mechanical, a recreation of the thousands of times you’ve done it before, and your legs carry you automatically. The last time, now. Pulling in a large breath, you exhale through your nose, centering yourself while you click the door open.  

Sunlight streams through the windows, bathing everything in the late afternoon light. You glaze your eyes over the room, not searching for anything forgotten, but committing it to memory one final time. You recognize that it feels less like a chapter closing and more like a freefall into something entirely unknown — into the mouth of something that lurks beneath the surface, teeth gnashing, ready to consume. 

Leaving the key on the kitchen island feels like an offering to that dark entity, but you’re ready — willing — to tumble headfirst into it. So you do, with no grandeur, and no looking back, just a deep breath out and the millstone around your neck lifted. 

Joel’s truck isn’t in the driveway when you arrive at his house. Ava is posted up against her car, Silas still in the driver’s seat, arm out the window at her waist. You wave as you pull up, masking the fear radiating through your extremities. 

You throw the Subaru into park, and Ava jogs over to meet you. Her eyes are wide, but kind, as you close the door behind you. 

“Okay?” She asks, her hand gentle on your arm. 

You nod, swallowing hard. “Feels kinda surreal, Av. But I’m good.” 

Brushing her off, you make your way to the front door. There’s an envelope clipped to the mailbox, ‘peach’ scribbled on the front of it, and your hands shake as you grasp it. 

‘I wanted to give you some space while you got settled. Your key is in the envelope. Make yourself at home — I’ll check on you in the morning. —Joel’ 

Your heart flutters as you pull out a house key, with a keychain in the shape of a peach threaded through the top of it. Your breath catches in your chest as you run the metal through your fingers, tightening them around it. If Tommy’s key had been an anchor, Joel’s feels like a lifesaver. 

Blinking back tears, hands still shaking, you slide the key into the lock and twist. 

Eat your heart out, Tommy Miller.