#which is one of the few kinds of math i can get behind

[wip]

A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?

Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!

Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!

First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.

Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.

You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.

So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.

However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 

While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.

Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 

[lolothesilly]

honestly i'd sort of like to make a concept album (or more than one!) revolving around my fantasy world.... i think itd be neat!!! i have such a weird relationship with like, Making Music though?? music theory does not vibe with my brain at all its like another form of math to me (<-dyscalculic) so i always feel so ill-prepared for it.

like. i dont know what im doing i dont know the language i dont know the syntax or the formulas. i know what sounds good to ME but i dont know Why a given group of notes sounds good together.

maybe what i need to do is like. fart around a bit while also taking notes. figure out exactly which progressions make my brain do a happy dance and then see if i can find a pattern. even if i Cant at least ill have a list of like? Things That Work For Me? thats something even if i cant explain why they work or how they work, itd give me a springboard

beyond that itd just be a matter of writing lyrics and singing them and recording myself singing and playing instruments and then piecing it all together. and like. to be real im Not good at any of those things but on the other hand i dont think i Have to be? i think its ok to create things even if theyre not Technically Skilled.

bad art is good art because you made art!!!!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was. 

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while. 

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made. 

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it. 

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” 

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

[die-pink-maus]

Some Canon/Not So Canon König💋HeadCanons💋 (NSFW Included • MDNI)

AN: These Are Just my thoughts and opinions of what I imagine König would be like IRL. I divided everything up into sections and there is a whole section dedicated to NSFW headcanons, so PLEASE…MDNI this is for the adults. Also, there is great mention of the words “wife” and “girlfriend” as I write this from the perspective of a woman.

Likes, Reblogs, & Positive Comments Are Greatly Appreciated 🫶🏼

Some MORE Canon/Not So Canon König 💋Headcanons💋 HERE

Enjoy! 💋

🪖General Personality/Physical Appearance🪖

♡ Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think König is 6’10, he’s definitely gigantic but I would put him at around 6’5 - 6’7.

♡ Also contrary to popular belief, I do genuinely think that social anxiety and overall insecurity is something he grows out of overtime. While overcoming all of this was no easy feat, he’s learned to be more self assured and makes sure everyone Around him knows that he is HIM. His confidence really shines through in his duties as Colonel and his physical capabilities. Some may view him as cocky or arrogant, but he’s just really proud of the work he’s done on himself 🤷🏼‍♀️

♡ He’s definitely a HUGE nerd, but he wears that shit with pride. He loves reading classic literature, is great at math, and probably plays dungeons and dragons. Definitely spends hours on end finishing puzzles and building shit for his cats 😂

♡ Muscular AF. Huuuuge muscular arms, toned chest and defined thighs. I don’t think he has “washboard” abs, you can see them mainly when he flexes, his tummy is a bit soft 🥰 He goes to the gym at least 5 days a week

♡ Despite wearing a mask, I think König is more than likely very handsome. Strong jawline, chiseled facial features, a perfectly imperfect smile. He’s probably got an old school charm about him, the kind that can make a woman weak in the knees with just one look, especially with those eyes 😮‍💨

♡ 100% a cat Dad. Most likely has an unhinged orange cat and a black cat. In general I think he adores animals and spends most of his free time with his cats

♡ Veeeeeerrry good with money. Has been saving since he joined the military and treats himself and his girlfriend or wife to many luxuries. He 100% loves to spoil the people he loves and has prepared so that they never have to want for anything.

♡ Comes off stone cold until you get to know him, but it’s mostly because he has RBF without his mask 🤣

♡ Tells like…really bad dad jokes that he can’t finish without laughing hysterically, and his laugh is so insane that it causes others to laugh

♡ He’s definitely happiest at home. He’s an introvert, but can and will go out and socialize if he needs to. Prefers a gathering at a friend or family members house as opposed to a bar or club

♡ Loves his Bier. Will usually have one after a long day of training recruits while he watches some random show he stumbled on while flipping channels.

♡ If he gets drunk everyone knows because he will start going on and on about how much he loves the people he’s around, which is something they don’t hear too often, if at all, unless you are his wife or girlfriend

💗In a Relationship/Family Life💗

♡ Again, lol, contrary to popular belief…I think König would be more attracted to a woman with voluptuous curves. Not too petite and not too curvaceous, but somewhere in between.

♡ König would be the best boyfriend ever…but he’d also be stubborn af.

♡ When arguing with his SO, he’ll often get frustrated easily and kinda shut down, but once he takes a few minutes to himself to think things through, he really enjoys communicating and having an open dialogue about whatever you were fighting about

♡ CUDDLES GALORE. He wants to be all over his girl at allllll times. Not really one for extreme PDA, but behind closed doors he cannot seem to get his hands off of you.

♡ Loves when you cook for him, and loves to cook for you. Loves it even more when you cook together!

♡ Expensive gifts for absolutely no reason at all. Will literally stand behind his SO as they browse their favourite stores online and take mental notes of the things you say you like. Don’t be surprised when that $2000 hand bag you adored shows up at your front door.

♡ Is an incredible father. Prides himself on being a hands on dad. Will do practically anything for his children, and teaches them German at a very young age. Ensures they are well equipped to handle the bullshit life may throw at them, but tries his best to prevent any of said bullshit from coming their way.

♡ Never yells at his wife or their children. Generally hates conflict and will do what he can to resolve anything.

♡ His wife/girlfriend is the most important thing in the world to him. He would do anything for her, and anything to protect her

♡ 100% scary bf privilege. You can go out and do whatever you please and no one fucks with you because they know König is only a call or text away and he can and will get rid of you without anyone even noticing

😈In the Bedroom😈

♡ Remember when I said he was gigantic? His height isn’t the only thing I’m talking about 😩😮‍💨🤭 That man is blessed and highly favoured.

♡ He’s at least 8 inches hard, uncut, and veiny. He doesn’t shave everything off, but he always ensures he’s well groomed.

♡ He loves making love to you, but he loves fucking you even more.

♡ Passionate as fuck. Worships every inch of your body from head to toe.

♡ He loves to tease his SO. Spends as much time as he can getting to know just what gets her hot. Watching every jolt of her body as his lips suck on certain spots. Listening to every moan and whimper as his fingers grope and squeeze her soft flesh. He wants you to be so wet you’re practically begging to take every inch of his massive cock, and even then, he won’t give it to you until you ask for it in German 🤭

♡ Could spend hours eating your pussy. Wants to make sure you cum at least 5 times before he even thinks about getting himself off. He will eat you out any time, anywhere — bedroom, laundry room, kitchen counter, you name it

♡ Loves the look on your face when you see him in uniform. He knows it gets your heart racing, and he loves fucking you with his sniper hood on.

♡ He adores the look on your face as his long thick rod stretches you open. The widening, glossy eyes, your mouth hung slightly open as his hardness fills your tight wet pussy.

♡ He loves talking dirty. “I know you like that.”, “is this what you wanted?”, “good girl, look at you taking this fat cock so well”, “such a good little slut”

♡ He loves getting rough, so long as you allow it. He loves choking you while he’s balls deep inside you, grinding his thick tip against your cervix as you let out small breathless moans

♡ Loves watching how small you are beneath him, loves watching your tits bounce up and down as he ploughs his cock into you over and over

♡ Loves watching your ass jiggle as he slams into you from behind, your hair wrapped around his wrist as he fucks you mercilessly

♡ Loves fucking you in front of a full length mirror so you can see how pretty you look taking his long fat cock

♡ Loves cumming inside you or in your pretty little mouth, on your knees while you look up at him and swallow his seed like a good girl 😍

♡ Provides the BEST aftercare. Takes a nice warm bath or shower with you, carrying you off back into bed once you’ve dried off. Plenty of cuddles in those big strong arms of his, and lots of head/cheek kisses. Whispered praises of how amazing you are, and how much he loves you. Will bring up some of your favourite snacks or chef up an entire meal for afterwards

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Help (OP81)

Summary: She’s got a math test the next day and unfortunately, she can’t do math. However, her boyfriend can.

Warnings: PURE FLUFF 👹👹👹👹, me being uneducated abt the British schooling system (PLZ FORGIVE ME IF I GET ANYTHING WRONG I KNOW THERE ARE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE AMERICAN AND BRITISH ACADEMIC SYSTEMS)

Note: i want a bf to tutor me math wtf bitch 😐

As she sat in the University of London’s library, staring at the problem on her laptop, Y/n was on the verge of tears.

She had been trying to study for four hours, but she was quickly realizing she had absolutely no idea what was going on in the class. No amount of step-by-step videos or lecture notes could help remedy the confusion she was suffering from. Her grade relied on this test and if she failed, she wasn’t too keen on retaking the course.

Nevertheless, she knew if she continued to sit and stare, her heart rate would accelerate even more and her watery eyes would turn into full on sobs. So, she excused herself, packing up her backpack and making a swift path toward the bathroom. Once settled behind the door, she let the tears fall and the anxiety consume her.

As if the world wanted to hurt her more, her crucial moment was ruined as her phone began to ring. Her sweet boyfriend’s face stared back at her as she contemplated answering the call or not. If she didn’t, he would most likely call her again, and if she did, he would be able to notice the way her voice wavered with self-doubt immediately.

For whatever reason, she answered the call. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to start the conversation, as she stared at the wall in front of her and tried to calm herself down.

“Baby! How’s studying going? I was thinking we could get food because I’m sure you haven’t taken a proper break yet.” His cheery voice met her ears and while that tone usually brought air back into her lungs, it pushed her over the edge this time.

Silence on the other end of the phone as she cried into the speaker and Oscar tried to figure out what had her so distraught.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He questioned, trying to comfort her sorrows as he ran around his apartment and grabbed his things, already on his way to help her.

She tried to speak, but the words never came out, sobs replacing any kind of sentence.

He continued to speak, knowing his voice was the only thing that could really help her as he sped to the library.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He urged, changing lanes and turning abruptly which granted a loud honking behind him from a frustrated driver.

She shook her head as she said, “It’s not, Osc. I don’t understand anything. I haven’t done anything these past few hours. I’m going to fail this test, and then I’m not going to pass this year, and then I’m going to fail out of college, and never get a job or provide for myself in anyway.”

He breathed out. Her way of jumping to conclusions and overthinking always gave her a problem, a major obstacle Oscar was so determined to help her through. Any inconvenience and she was worrying over what would happen next.

“Woah, woah, woah. Baby, slow down. None of that is going to happen. This is about your math test? You don’t understand the material?” He said softly.

“Yeah,” She whispered into the speaker.

He nodded, “Okay, well, how about this: I’ll come to the library and help you through the problems. You know math’s one of my strongest subjects. I can do this for you. Let me help you, baby.”

“But, Osc, aren’t you hungry? You just said you wanted to get food.” She said, trying to stop him from seeing her in this state.

“Baby, food can wait. We can get food after.” He smiled to himself as he pulled into the parking lot and got out.

“It’s going to take all night for me to understand this, Osc.” She stressed.

He shrugged, “Well, then I’ll get us food and we can eat while we study.”

She shook her head, “No, Oscar.”

He stopped in his steps, staring at the building as he sensed her overwhelming anxiety over his proposition.

“What’s wrong with me helping you, Y/n? That’s what I’m here for.” His eyebrows scrunched together, confusion and concentration over her next answer.

Her small voice bled through his phone and met his ears in a broken whisper, “I don’t want you to think I’m stupid.”

His heart squeezed in his chest, “Y/n, I do not and will never think you are stupid. Just because math was easy for me doesn’t mean it was easy for everyone else and that’s how it should be. Everybody struggles with math. There’s a reason why the majority of the world hates it. Trust me, baby, you are one of the smartest people I know.”

After a beat of silence and when he wasn’t certain if she would respond, Oscar tried again, “Let me help you, Y/n. I want to help you because I love you.”

Her cheeks blushed even in the intensity of the moment. The warmness she felt spread throughout her body moved her to say, “Okay, fine.”

“Good because I’m already here.”

—

Y/n’s eyes lit up, “Oh, so x is 2?!”

Nodding, Oscar rubbed his hand lightly up and down her back, “Exactly, my love. See? You’ve got this, smart girl.”

Her blushing had him chuckling, but her shyness didn’t stop him from kissing her temple.

“Okay, I think I understand this then.” She muttered, a big smile on her face as she looked at the time and realized it was still early enough that they could find a food place open.

“Still wanna get food?” She inquired, her body falling into his chest as they sat back on the wooden chairs. It was completely quiet and empty in the building, only a few students lingering. Because of their position in the very corner, their privacy was ensured, something they both were grateful for.

Oscar nodded, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair and nudge her face toward his. He kissed her softly, whispering sweet nothings when they broke apart. He was so proud of her and the fact that she had doubted herself as hard as she had didn’t sit right with him.

“You’re so incredibly smart, baby.” He said against her lips as he tilted his head to the other side, going in for another.

Their lips continued to tenderly meet, but every time he broke away, he would say something he loved about her.

“You never back down from a challenge. I love how determined you are.”

Kiss, Kiss

“Even when you fall, you always push yourself to get back up again. I love how resilient you are.”

Kiss, Kiss

“You’re so loving. I love the way you love me.”

Kiss, Kiss

“As we saw tonight, you’re so intelligent and knowledgeable. Even though you might not believe it yourself right now, you are so incredibly brilliant. I love how you never dumb yourself down for anyone. I love how confident you are to be yourself.”

He went in for another touch of their lips, but her giggling made it slightly impossible.

“Oscar, you’re so sappy.” She whispered, faces centimeters away from each other.

All he could do was smile down at her and whisper as his lips brushed against hers, “I just love you so much and I hate to see you doubt yourself. You’ve got this in the bag, Y/n. Sometimes teachers just don’t teach well and that isn’t your fault. Look at how fast it took you to learn it when someone actually sat down to introduce it to you! Two hours, baby! A whole unit in two hours! That’s impressive, baby, and you know it.”

She pulled back to lean against her chair, smile illuminating the room, “What would I do without you?”

He scoffed, “You would be perfectly fine. It’s me without you that you should be worried about.”

“Well, I’m not worried about it because I don’t plan on ever leaving.”

Kissing swiftly once more, his hand laid gently on the side of her neck, “Me neither.”

The two stayed like that for a few minutes until his stomach started grumbling and she was reminded of her earlier question.

“Food?”

He was already halfway out of the building, “Always.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

this has been on my mind for a while, how would König react to a reader who was around when he was being bullied, not one of the bullies since I doubt he would forgive that even tho the sex would be nasty but like a girl who was on the side lines doing nothing and just hanging out with the bullies coming to him apologetically and wanting to make amends??

Oh what a delicious idea!

I meant to answer this with a quick reply but alas 🙄 this turned into a short drabble almost

She wasn’t one of the bullies, which means she’s not someone who König would want to actively terminate (I hc him in some of my darker fics as someone who may or may not have killed his childhood bullies... and/or his father, which means König can’t go back to Austria bc MEMORIES and also bc he has like a raging criminal record there). But she’s an onlooker, practically an enabler, and used to hang out with his bullies, oh dear. König wouldn’t be all too welcoming with her.

Chances are she was someone who König crushed on during school. Unattainable, he daydreamed about having her as his first girlfriend, but naturally that never happened... Now he’s suspicious to the point of being a little paranoid: he built a tough shell because of his past, so doe eyes and apologies won’t get you very far, even if König is intrigued. To be honest, his interest is piqued, but he won't let you see that in a million years.

Perhaps you reach out after a class meeting, some get together he never attended. You always wondered what happened to the cute, awkward nerd who sat behind you in class, the clumsy boy who talked of Rome, chivalry and knights while other boys wanted to be F1 drivers... Maybe you fantasized about asking him to help you with your history or math test, maybe you even blew him a kiss one time on dare to see if he'd walk straight into a wall (he did).

Maybe you dolled yourself up, just for him, excited to see König after over 10 years. To see if the awkward boy would still blush, to see what kind of man he has become... Chirp your regrets after a few blunts and some booze and see if he still fancied you.

But König never came. And of course he didn’t, that’s hardly a surprise. The regret within you builds until you bite the bullet and send a message to his old number, and after a few months, a reply finally arrives, but it’s not the most genial one.

König wants to meet you though… And the man, the thing he has become, makes it clear that he's not the shy awkward boy anymore.

You spend the whole evening trying to get over the sheer size of him, the lack of shaking hands, the distant cold stare with which he looks down at you. The fact that he works as a mercenary, that the boy who never hit anyone now kills people for money... The fact that he looks like someone who could wipe the floor with the young men you used to think were kinda cool.

König, however, is trying to decide what you want from him. Do you still think he’s a loser who never hit back because he wanted to be the better person? Do you think he’s a good for nothing man, even now, upon seeing that he finally succumbed to his hate?

Why do you even want to apologize after all these years?

Do you want an official pardon so that you can sleep your nights better? Or do you want to gawk at him because he chose to skip that stupid get together, perhaps gossip about him to the others and see if you could still find something to laugh at?

He’s the perfect gentleman during your “date”, offers to pay for the food and wishes you all the best. You can see the hurt in his eyes, of course – he wants to make you feel even worse about yourself by being such a good joe, so you break before him when he tries to leave, apologizing again, even crying in front of him.

“I just wanted to know if you’re happy,” you say. “I just hope that everything’s alright now…”

You lay your whole heart out in front of this man, but he's not the boy you used to know, not anymore.

He doesn’t tell you that he’s not happy; he never was. Neither does he heed the wishes of his darker self, wanting to tell you that he’d be happy for a while if you blew him in the restroom. He’s fucking better than that.

“We were just kids,” he says instead.

And that’s it: that’s the apology. But you can’t let him go, and neither can he, not when you humbly decided to come and rip all his wounds open.

Cue to a few months from the first date, you’re neck deep in love with him while König tells himself he’s only having fun. You could say he’s using you for sex; yes, he’s just dating this chick from high school... You’re just someone he comes to fuck and cuddle during leaves. It's nothing serious, no. He can do without serious for a while.

And he’s not going to fall for your charms, no matter how sweet, authentic and loving you are... You make yourself so fucking easy to love, but he's not going to fall for that. Any other woman he'd worship, but not you.

Not you.

Not you…

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love how excited Bradley and Everett are for the Tiny Eagles' final game, and you can't wait to show Bradley the surprise you have planned for him. With an undefeated season and the title of Coaches of the Year on the line, you and Molly cheer for the boys with everything you have. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

On Saturday morning, before the sun was even up, Bradley was kissing your forehead and whispering, "I'll see you at the game, Kitten." He had been spending more nights at your house than his own apartment, and every time he had to go back to his place to get fresh clothes or do laundry, he kind of hated it. 

As he climbed out of your bed and put on yesterday's clothing, you reached for him, and he gave you a proper kiss. "See you in a few hours," you mumbled before rolling over and going back to sleep. Ten weeks. He had only known you and Everett for ten weeks, but he was so in love with you and your son and your little house and everything about you. 

With a sigh, he grabbed his hat and his wallet and headed outside, locking up behind himself as he went. He had been doing the sneaking in late and sneaking back out early routine on occasion, not wanting Everett to feel like Bradley was taking over his house. But every time he was there, he felt like he belonged with the two of you. 

The school year was wrapping up for Everett, but Bradley had enjoyed working on math and reading homework at the kitchen island. He enjoyed tossing a baseball around your front yard. Every time he left, he wanted to go back.

He ran a load of his laundry while he ate breakfast in his sparse kitchen. Today was the last tee ball game, and he couldn't believe it was less than three months ago that Bob had been practically begging Bradley to help him with the Tiny Eagles in the first place. What if he had said no? He didn't even want to think about that. And as of right now, his team was undefeated, thanks in large part to you and Everett and how much fun Bradley had been having. 

As he pulled on his coach's jersey and grabbed his blue hat and whistle, he silently hoped his team would win their last game, because he knew how happy that would make Everett. And if he and Bob won coaches of the year, he'd give his trophy to Everett to add to the collection of baseball items in his bedroom. 

When Bradley parked at the field a little bit early, nobody else was there yet, not even Bob. He had noticed that Bob had been cutting it a little close the past few games and practices, showing up barely on time, looking a little disheveled with a smiling Molly in tow. It took all of Bradley's willpower not to rib Bob too hard about it, because his fellow aviator turned crimson every time. But Molly could take the trash talk like a pro, which Bradley already appreciated about your sister. 

And ever since Bradley had gotten a glimpse of the diamond rings that the jeweler had on display, he couldn't help but think that things with you were moving too fast and still too slow at the same time. So he fought the urge to max out his credit card, but he was still thinking about what kind of ring you would like.

"Coach Bradley!" 

He looked up to see Sandra and Henry rushing toward him with two gigantic gift baskets. She was wearing practically no clothing, and he was agitated that she had been able to corner him. "Hey, Henry! Sandra." He patted Henry on his shoulder, and then Sandra was in his personal space, handing him one of the baskets that was filled with so much random shit. "Thanks," he mumbled, trying to sidestep her hand as it found his arm. 

"You're so welcome. This season has been fantastic, all thanks to you and Bob," she purred. "I'm just hoping I can get Henry on your team for the fall league. And I'm hoping you'll choose me to be Team Mom next time."

Bradley rubbed his mustache. He'd been thinking about coaching again, even going so far as to considering becoming a head coach. He and Bob could have teams that went against each other, and Bradley thought that might be a lot of fun. "Thanks, Sandra. And you know what, that's a great idea. Since I'm dating our Team Mom now, it would probably be a conflict of interest if I chose her again in the fall."

The sour look on her face as Bradley noticed Bob's truck pull into the parking lot followed by your car had him smiling a little bit as he waved back to Everett who was waving wildly through the open window. "Excuse me," he mumbled as he headed for your car. Hadn't he just seen you a few hours ago? Been in your bed with your arms around his neck, felt your soft breaths on his cheek?

"Fuck," he gasped, jogging up the hill with his gift basket, antsy to get to you. When you climbed out of your car, he set the basket on your roof and kissed you hard. 

"Ew!" Molly gasped as she climbed out of Bob's truck. 

But you just smiled and said, "I like it when you wear your hat backwards."

"Why do you think I keep doing it?" he asked softly, and you bit your lip as you glanced back at the gift basket.

"Something to remember Sandra by?" you asked with an eye roll. "I'll give you a better thank you gift later, Coach."

"Oh, I can't wait," he mumbled, kissing your forehead as Ev climbed out of your backseat. "Hey, Kiddo! Last game. Are you excited?" 

"Yes!" he said, jumping up to high five Bradley before running over to Bob as well. "If we win today, then that means our team is the best one!" Bradley watched Everett bounce around between Bob and Molly as you chucked the gift from Sandra onto your passenger seat.

"Hey, careful, Kitten. There might be something good in there."

You rolled your eyes and closed your door, and Bradley laced his fingers through yours. "Yeah, I saw a Starbucks gift card. It's mine now."

"Whatever you want," he whispered, running his thumb along your ring finger. The kids were starting to warm up with Bob, and Molly had secured a good spot on the bleachers. "I'll see you after the Tiny Eagles go undefeated for a perfect season." 

You kissed him hard and then, when Bradley turned toward the other coaches, he felt you slap his ass. "You can do it, Coach Bradley! You're the best!" Then you turned innocently toward the bleachers and brightly said, "Hello, Sandra!" before continuing toward your sister.

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

"It's the tight, white pants that made me do it," you whispered to Molly as she shook with laughter. "I was helpless to control myself." 

"God, you're right," Molly sighed. "It's like... I never knew how badly I needed a man in a uniform. And I'm talking the flight suit, the khakis, and the tee ball getup."

You looked at Bob for a beat. "It's the glasses, Mo."

"The fucking glasses," she whined softly. She was going to move in with Bob next weekend after Everett's birthday baseball game. 

You wanted to warn your sister that she was moving really quickly, especially for her, but you just couldn't. You thought she and Bob made a lot of sense, and you were happy for her. Bob was the perfect departure from the bad boys she usually went for. He kept turning to look at Molly as the game started, just like Bradley did with you. 

"How did this happen?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know," you replied. 

"I'm fully addicted to the pizza nights now, I hope you know that," she told you with a grin. "We can win any argument when Natasha is with us. It's literally perfect."

You loved the pizza nights, too. You loved the way Everett was always welcome on someone's lap. You loved how Bradley cut the pizza slices smaller for him. You loved how comfortable you felt. "It is perfect."

Molly cleared her throat just as Everett went up to bat. "Not to dampen the mood, but what did your lawyer say?"

You took a deep breath, but you found that it actually wasn't so hard to talk about. "I'm going to meet with them in person, but getting Danny's name off of Everett's birth certificate is going to be challenging. Would be easier if I were remarried and looking to have my spouse adopt him. But they are going to do some research about child support based on Danny's shitty income which I'm sure will make him rage at me again."

Molly hugged you tight. "I'm sorry this is happening."

You nodded, but you found that you didn't want to cry about it anymore. "Me too. But we'll continue to be better off without him, even if they can't make him pay."

Then you both jumped to your feet. "Go Ev!" Molly cheered as he hit the ball ridiculously far. He ran the bases as Bradley and Bob cheered him on. And the look of pure elation on Bradley's face as Everett crossed home plate and ran into his arms was going to stay with you forever. 

"We're leading by one run now!" Molly was bouncing up and down.

Then it really hit you. "They're going to be undefeated, aren't they?" You felt kind of silly. It was just tee ball. But it had actually become really important to you and everyone around you. 

"I think so!" Molly gushed as you both sat down and held hands through the final inning. And when the Tiny Condors were not able to tie the game, you felt tears in your eyes for a different reason as you smiled and ran down the bleachers toward Everett. 

You scooped him up into your arms and squeezed him tight. "You're so good, Ev! I'm so proud of you!"

"Mommy! Aunt Molly! We won every game!"

"You sure did!" Molly told him, kissing his cheek before heading toward Bob. She made no secret of them being together as a moment later, you saw her hand slide up the front of his jersey as she kissed him. 

Bradley was left to converse with the umpires, but his smile was huge when he finally turned your way. He high fived and hugged all of the Tiny Eagles, but he knelt in front of Everett and hugged him for a long time. And when they started to have a quiet conversation, you gave them a little space.

You hoped this meant that Bradley and Bob would both win awards at the league picnic tomorrow afternoon. You already had a treat planned for your boyfriend just in case, but you thought you could use it either way. 

After Bradley kissed Everett's forehead, he stood and kissed yours as well. "Thanks for not pulling Ev from the team after I fucked up, Kitten."

You smiled up at him. "I didn't have the heart to do it. I'm glad I didn't."

"I love you. Let me buy you both some ice cream."

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

After Bradley offered to buy you and Everett a treat from the snack bar, you told him to take Everett to the bench and wait. You insisted you wanted to buy it. So Bradley gave him a piggyback ride over to the same bench where you and he had flirted relentlessly on your 'first date'. Bradley smiled just thinking about how he had answered your phone when Frank kept calling you nonstop. 

Everett jumped down onto the bench, and Bradley sat next to him while you waved from the line. "Hey, kiddo?" he asked Everett after you blew him a kiss. 

"Yeah, Coach?"

Bradley chuckled and looked at his excited face. "You can call me Bradley now. All the time. Tee ball is over."

"Okay," he replied, still all smiles from winning the final game. 

Bradley cleared his throat and made sure you weren't on your way over yet. "Can you keep a secret from your mom? It's nothing bad or scary, I promise."

"Okay," he said again, nodding this time.

"What kind of ring did your mom used to wear? When she was married to your dad?"

Everett's little brow scrunched up as he gave Bradley a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Her wedding ring," Bradley told him quietly. "What did it look like?"

"Oh," he said, plopping down next to Bradley now. "She didn't have one."

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "She never wore one?"

"Nope."

"Huh." Surely you must have had a wedding ring? Did Danny really not buy you a ring? "Ev, she never wore any rings? Not even a plain one?"

"Nope."

Bradley settled back against the bench, and stared off into space. He'd been thinking about it a bit, and he really wanted to make sure he didn't get you a ring that was similar to something you had worn from Danny. But if you never had one at all...

"Take it before it melts!" you said, laughing as you jolted Bradley from his thoughts. He grabbed one of the ice creams from your hands and quickly licked the sides before he helped Everett with his.

"Thanks, Kitten," Bradley told you as you went to sit on the other side of your son. "Are you excited for the picnic tomorrow?" he asked Everett.

"Yep! I'm going to get a trophy!"

"I think Bradley might be getting a trophy, too!" you added, licking your ice cream and winking at Bradley. He watched you eat with narrowed eyes as his own snack melted. 

Bradley grunted. "Well, the most important thing is that I'm going to get you ready for real baseball in the fall. And the fact that San Diego has nice weather year round means that you'll probably get so good from practicing all the time that you'll be able to get a scholarship someday."

"What's a scholarship?" Everett asked as his ice cream dripped on Bradley's shoe.

"Ev," you mumbled and went to clean it up. But Bradley took your hand and guided you back to the bench with a shake of his head.

"It's fine, Kitten. It's just my shoe," he told you. And then he turned Everett's ice cream so it wouldn't keep dripping everywhere. "A scholarship is money that colleges sometimes give to athletes so they will come play sports for the school. Your mom would probably be delighted if you got one."

You laughed as you bit into your cone. "Would be nice. Lawyers are expensive," you muttered, leaning in to kiss Everett's cheek. 

"You need to keep me in the loop when you do things like that," he told you, shooting you a no nonsense look. 

"Okay," you whispered. 

Once Everett had finished his ice cream and washed his hands, Bradley walked both of you back to your car. "Want me to pick you both up for the picnic tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Everett cheered. "Your car is fun!" 

But once he was buckled in his booster seat, you pulled Bradley close and whispered, "I have something special for you, Coach." And Bradley audibly groaned as your hand came to rest on his cock, stroking him through his snug baseball pants. "Stay over tomorrow night?"

"Of course," he grunted next to your ear as you squeezed him gently. "Fuck."

You just giggled and said, "I think you'll love your surprise."

Then you backed out of the parking spot while Bradley stood next to his Bronco with a semi and waved like an idiot. He wasn't sure what kind of surprise you had in store for him, but he loved everything you did. And then he drove off in the opposite direction, back to the jewelry shop to pick up your necklace which the jeweler had needed to keep longer than anticipated. And he could also look at the rings some more. 

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

"Where's Aunt Molly?" Everett whined as you sat with him on your lap on the crowded bleachers. All of the tee ball teams had been invited today, and there were so many people at the picnic. 

"She's on her way from work, Ev. She should be here soon."

"What if she misses my trophy?"

"Then we'll have to show it to her when she gets here."

"What if she misses Coach Bob's trophy?"

You kissed his cheek and held him tighter. He was beyond excited that his coaches had been nominated for awards. "Then she can see Coach Bob's trophy later." 

You laughed at the inadvertent dirty joke you just told, and then you saw your sister walking down from her car right as the ceremony started. She found a spot to stand off the side and waved at you. "Look, Aunt Molly's here. You feel better now?"

"Yep!" Everett told you as he waved to her as well.

You watched the third and second place teams get their medals, and when they called the Tiny Eagles up to collect their trophies, Everett ran up alongside Bradley and Bob. You took some pictures while you cheered. You were struck with a pang of sadness over the fact that Danny didn't want to be part of this. But then you saw Bradley pull Everett into a big hug as soon as he had his trophy in his hand.

Your son was happy all the time when he was around Bradley. He always seemed to provide Everett with love, attention, and comfort. And that was in addition to all of the fun they seemed to have together. You took another picture of them hugging, and then it was Bradley's turn for his award.

Bob looked so shy and hesitant as he thanked everyone for a great season, but when it was Bradley's turn, you couldn't stop smiling. 

He gave all of the kids on the team a special shout out, and then he thanked the league for trusting that he and Bob could handle a team like this on their first try. And then you had to suppress your giggles as Bradley found where you were sitting on the bleachers and said, "And a big thank you to our Team Mom. None of this would have happened without her."

You waved down to them, and Everett, Bradley and Bob all waved back. Then Bradley was awarded his trophy and promptly handed it to Everett. "Seriously," Molly called out to you. "He's so much better than Danny."

"I know," you agreed, taking in the enormous smile on Everett's face as he ran to Molly. And then you were heading down the bleachers and into Bradley's arms. 

"Hey, Kitten," he whispered, kissing your cheek as you laughed. 

"Remember that day when you silently bullied me into agreeing to be the Team Mom?" you asked, looking up at him.

His grin and his backward hat looked exactly like they had that day as he said, "I sure do. God, I was so into you. I thought you must have been married though."

You buried your face against his chest and laughed. "The hot coach wanted me to be Team Mom? No way I wasn't raising my hand."

He kissed the top of your head and led you over to the picnic area where Everett was sitting with Molly, his grip on both trophies unrelenting. "Thanks for letting him hold that," you told Bradley.

But he just shrugged. "He can have it. I think he was more excited about me winning it than I was," he said with a laugh. "And I think I'm going to coach another tee ball team in the fall. I loved this."

Your heart swelled with love for him. "You should. You're good at it."

"Deployments will be hard to get around though," he whispered, kissing you on the head again. "Gonna be hard for us, too."

"Ev and I aren't going anywhere."

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

After the picnic, Bradley drove you both back to your house and helped a very sleepy Everett get a quick shower and get ready for bed. "Go relax, Kitten. I got this," he promised as Everett changed into pajamas and brushed his teeth. 

You bit your lip and kissed Everett goodnight. Then you whispered, "Come find me when you're done," before you walked into your bedroom and closed the door, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

He grunted, wondering if he was going to get the surprise you promised him. His mind was filled with dirty blowjobs and kitten costumes, and he had to take a deep breath as Everett crossed the hallway back to his bedroom in his baseball pajamas and climbed up into his bed.

"Have you thought about moving into the extra bedroom?" he asked with a yawn, and Bradley smiled as he pulled the covers up over him.

"Honestly, Kiddo? I think about it all the time."

"We should talk to my mom about it," Everett muttered as he rolled onto his side, already half asleep. 

"Yeah," Bradley whispered, "we should." Then he straightened both trophies on Everett's dresser and turned off the lamp before leaving the room. But he thought that another level of commitment was definitely going to be necessary before he could move in here. He'd been thinking about it though.

But all thoughts simply vanished from his brain as he opened your bedroom door and saw you standing there next to your bed. A strangled sound escaped from the back of his throat as his jaw dropped open. 

"You okay, Coach?" you asked teasingly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, hands planted on your hips. 

"Kitten," he gasped, eyes going wider. "Baby."

You were wearing a tiny, skimpy red and white cheerleading uniform and holding red pom poms at your hips. The little pleated skirt barely hid anything from his view, and he could see your peaked nipples poking against the top.

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I heard you won Coach of the year. I'm so proud of you." You took a step closer to him, and he wasn't sure if his cock could actually get any harder than it was. You'd put on some red lipstick and some extra eye makeup, and you looked fucking hot. He was having a hard time speaking as he reached for you.

"This is for me?" he managed to ask as he pulled you against him and ran his hands along the little skirt. But you spun in his arms, and he felt all of the blood in his body rush to his groin as you rubbed your ass against him.

"For you." You looked back at him over your shoulder as he ran his hands down along your bare thighs.

"You look like one of the Phillies cheerleaders," he whispered in your ear.

"That's what I was going for," you gasped with a smile.

"My first crush was on the entire 1995 Phillies cheerleading roster."

"Why am I not surprised?" Your soft laughter had him bucking against your backside. He was completely ready to go. 

"You like dressing up for me," he muttered as you spun to face him again.

You nodded and shook your pom poms as you shimmied for him. "Yeah, I do. I think you like it, too."

"That would be an understatement," he growled as your tits nearly bounced out of that tiny top. When he pulled you closer by your hips, you dropped the pom poms to the floor and reached for the fly of his pants, and Bradley leaned down to kiss you softly. "I love this."

You kissed him all over his lips and mustache and cheeks, and he was sure he had your lipstick everywhere, and he was so fucking turned on. And then you were in front of him on your knees, and his baseball pants and underwear were around his thighs. He quickly pulled his jersey and undershirt off as you wrapped your pretty lips around his cock and looked up at him as you took him inch by inch until he met the back of your throat. 

"Yeah," he groaned. "Just like this. I'd jerk off thinking about those cheerleaders sucking my cock."

You moaned so loudly with him against the back of your throat that he had to bite his tongue against the urge to blow his load already. 

"But you're so much better. My god." He was already panting as you withdrew him from your mouth. Your lipstick was on his cock now, but he barely had time to process anything before you were sucking on him again. He watched you, his actual fantasy come to life, as you gave him excellent head. When he ran his thumb along your cheek, he could feel his cock inside your mouth. He needed to stop you, because he desperately wanted to fuck you, but this felt too perfect.

But when you started running your fingernails along his balls, he pulled you up to your feet. You let out a startled laugh before he pressed his lips to yours. "I wanna fuck you," he managed between sloppy kisses as he grabbed at your bare backside with both hands. 

You were moaning against his lips as his dick was poking into your belly. "Anything you want," you gasped, running your hands along his shoulders and pecs. 

"Don't tell me that," he growled, picking you up as you squealed and getting you on your knees at the edge of the bed. "God damn. I want everything." You looked too good on your hands and knees, glancing back at him while your glistening pussy and ass were bare for him. He ran his fingers through your slick until you were moaning his name, and then he knelt and put his mouth on you as he used his hand to coat himself with your wetness.

"Coach!" you cried out as Bradley licked your pussy and kissed the backs of your thigh. 

"You gotta be quiet, Kitten," he grunted, pushing your knees a little further apart as he lapped at you until you were bouncing back to meet his tongue. But you just got louder and louder, and when Bradley stood behind you and slid his cock inside, you nearly screamed.

"Bradley!"

"Shh." He tried his best to coax you to be quiet, but it didn't work until he clamped his left hand over your lips. "Baby, you can be as loud as you want when we're actually alone," he rasped, fucking you a little harder now. That little pleated red and white skirt brushed along your ass with each thrust, and Bradley wrapped his right hand around your waist, fucking you with deeper strokes. 

Your muffled cries had him close now as he moved his hand to palm your ass. He'd have to consider buying you a gag of some sort, and that had him actually cumming inside your tight pussy. 

"Fuck!" he grunted, letting go of your mouth and squeezing both of your ass cheeks as he fucked you until he was seeing stars. You just whimpered pathetically as you clenched around his softening cock. When Bradley pulled you up so your back was pressed against his chest, he ran his hands up under your skirt and teased your clit, really making sure you felt good.

"Coach!" you gasped, still fluttering around his cock as he pressed his lips to your neck. When you moved his fingers from your pussy up to your lips, he nibbled along your bare shoulder. You sucked on each of his fingers before you asked, "Did you like this as much as the kitten costume?"

He groaned so loudly, you giggled. "Yes, this was just as good as the kitten. Don't make me choose one." 

"You can have both," you promised, turning to kiss him as he withdrew his cock from your pussy and helped you to your feet. 

He watched his cum drip down and coat your thighs as he whimpered for you. And then he remembered what was tucked inside his pants pocket. Carefully he pulled out your repaired necklace and held it out to you. 

"Oh!" you gasped, reaching for it right away. "You fixed it!"

"Yeah," he whispered, kissing your parted lips. "Of course I did."

Once you had further examined it, you stared up at him with a look of awe. "It's better now," you told him, turning it over in your hand to inspect the engraving. One side of the paw print said Bradley and the other said Everett. He carefully clasped it around your neck before you wrapped your arms around his waist, and he just couldn't stop thinking about being here with you forever.

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

On Thursday, you were desperately trying to finish up for the day when another project got dumped on your desk. It was Everett's birthday, and you were hoping you'd be able to sneak out early and stop home to change before the Padres game. You started working on the new project before you decided to just say fuck it.

You turned your computer off an hour early and locked up your desk. You'd have time to change and meet everyone else at the ballpark since Everett was spending the day at the zoo with Molly. So you strolled to the elevator and then out to your car without a care in the world. 

And that's when your phone rang. It was your lawyer. You stumbled to a stop in the parking lot as you accepted the call. 

"A judge is not going to allow Daniel to sign away his rights. Not unless adoption becomes an option for your son. However, even when you acquire sole custody, which is basically a done deal, he'd still be required to pay you the child support he owes you, plus continue to pay in the future. Your ex husband would have one hundred and twenty days to try to dispute it. Would you like us to serve him with papers?"

Your heart was pounding as you played with the charm on your chain. You were beginning to feel like you had on your bathroom floor, short of breath and nauseous. "Can I think about it?" you asked softly. You didn't want to have to chase Danny for money. He would just make this as difficult for you as he could, and you didn't want to have to deal with him anymore at all. 

"Of course. Take your time."

You ended the call and climbed in your car. Bradley had implored you to keep him updated with the information your lawyer was giving you. But there was just no way you'd be able to tell him all of this. It would be mortifying, admitting to your boyfriend that more than anything, you wanted to know if he'd ever marry you and adopt your child. 

A pathetic sounding laugh bubbled out of you. No. You would just keep that information to yourself and decide if it was worth going after Danny at all. Because all you really wanted at the moment was your own name solely attached to Everett as his legal guardian. But that wasn't something you could have yet if at all.

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

Undefeated! Everett's birthday party is up next! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

Time to check out The Curveball for more of Molly and Bob!

PART 23

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[pedgito]

hi! i have a small prompt request!

what if eddie left something that’s for hellfire (like a notebook or one of his advanced dnd folders) and the reader (a cheerleader getting off of practice) sees it and decides to walk to his place to give it back

it starts raining and once they get there, wanye offers them a shower so they don’t get sick and to dry their clothes

long story short, eddie walks in on them after their shower and gets all flustered after staring for a while

maybe a small perv eddie BUT ALL FLUFF WITH FEELINGS SHOWN AT THE END

author’s note: this was supposed to be quick but i got carried away lol, i hope it’s okay!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) slight perv!eddie, reader is good at calling eddie’s bluffs, acquaintances to friends (w possible benefits), unrequited crushes, cheerleader!reader, mentions of drug use, kissing/teasing, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3.8k

Eddie was the least scariest person you knew, no matter how much people swore the opposite. Truthfully, you didn’t even know him very well—aside from the occasional discreet meet-up on the outskirts of school grounds, which after a few times eventually turned into meeting up with Eddie at his house, or allowing him to drive you, the latter being the more frequent. To be fair, most of what you relationship consisted of was a tolerance for the other. If he wasn’t the cheapest and easily accessible option for drugs, you wouldn’t have batted an eye—regardless of how cute he may have been.

And you’re not blind, you can see it. Eddie’s always been attractive, from his short buzzcut in grade school to his long, tousled curls he sported now, hiding his fit physique behind too many layers and always overcompensating with his over the top personality—not that you minded it, but it definitely rubbed people the wrong way.

Either way, he shafts you earlier in the day when you ask to meet up with him, going on and on about his stupid club, you didn’t understand any of it. It seemed way too serious for a game that consisted of plastic dice and way too much math for something that was supposed to be fun. He’s also flustered more than usual, slightly all over the place—and when his spiral notebook falls from his bag at the ring of the final bell dismissing you for the day, he doesn’t hear you calling after him, already long gone.

If it weren’t for the strict practice schedule Chrissy liked to keep, you would have ran straight to the theater room and returned Eddie’s belongings, not even thinking twice about it—and sure, his friends would probably tease him about some like you, a cheerleader, coming by to talk to him. But, Eddie had never explicitly stated his dislike for anyone really, not even Jason, who hounded him relentlessly for just breathing.

The next best option is to catch him after, knowing his club meetings probably stretched into the late hours of the evening, but the doors to the building are already looked when you arrive there—shaking and pounding on the door is no help either, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

It was just a notebook and it could wait until the next day, but from personal experience, it would have driven you crazy knowing someone had your belongings in their possession without you realizing —and besides, you could still buy from Eddie that way, not giving him a chance to weasel out that easily.

The walk isn’t bad at first either, the air is warm and calm, the passing cars providing enough light on your walk that it isn’t so terrifying—as often as your parents warned you about going out alone, you couldn’t understand why you were so easily throwing caution to the window now. But with Eddie, it seemed like a regular theme.

A bad boy who supposedly dabbled in satanic worshiping and sold fairly good weed, how could you pass that up? It was everything that everyone told you to steer clear of. It didn’t help that Eddie was also insanely kind to you, never asking prying questions or judging you—it made him even more attainable in your eyes. But alas, you couldn’t ever justify any of it to him, not without making an embarrassment of yourself if he rejected you.

But the rain hits about five minutes from Eddie’s house and the trail of trees are doing nothing to aid as cover from the storm. Your pace picks up, shoes squeaking against the pavement until you were nearly running, racing down the trail that led to the small cul de sac of trailers, knocking on Eddie’s door with a ferocity that could be mistaken for an intruder.

It’s much too late to turn back when Eddie’s uncle answers the door instead of him, turning quickly to realize that Eddie wasn’t even home, his van not parked in the driveway like it usually was.

Wayne has a crease in his brow, unlit cigarettes tucked between his lips as if he was planning to go for a smoke. His face softens at the sight of you, hair soaked over your shoulders and your practice clothes sticking to your skin—a thin top and an even thinner pair of shorts that had you shivering despite the humid, end of summer heat.

“Hey, kid—you didn’t get a ride with my nephew?” Wayne asks through the screen door.

You squint, rain still trickling down your face, though it’s slightly lighter now.

“Yeah, he uh—I needed to return something to him, he doesn’t know I’m here. I thought he would be home by now.” You explain, wiping your face weakly.

“Ah shit—just come inside, kid.” Wayne relents, opening the door. “I’m headed up to the plant but I’m sure he’ll be home soon—probably headed over to Rick’s for a bit.”

Reefer Rick was nothing but an anomaly in your mind, someone you always heard about but never saw. You only knew so much that Eddie received his drugs from him, but not much else—and frankly, you’d like to keep it that way.

“Are you sure?” You ask hesitantly, “I don’t want to intrude, sir.”

Wayne scoffs kindly at the endearment. He was a nice man, quiet more often than not, but he always meant well. He was still a stranger though, despite how often you saw him. If it weren’t for the familiarity you would’ve ran the other direction.

“Of course—you can clean up in the shower if you need to.” He says, motioning behind him with his thumb extended, “I’ll lock up behind me—and if Eddie doesn’t at least give you a ride home in this storm, I’ll give him hell come tomorrow morning.”

You smile warmly, nodding in response. “I think I’ll take you up on the offer,” You tell him, wanting nothing more than to be out of your wet clothes, “hopefully Eddie doesn’t mind lending me some clothes.”

“Can’t see why not.” He says, allowing you inside before slipping past you in silence, “I’ll see you around, kid.”

You smile politely, “You too, Mr. Munson.”

Again, another name he dislikes. But, you couldn’t help it. He understands you probably came from a family that stuck with the propers and addressed people more formally—it’s just another reminder that Eddie didn’t grow up like everyone else. Like a normal family.

When the door is shut and locked, the silence hits you hard. Aside from the gentle hum of electricity running throughout the trailer and the buzz of the lights, it was eerie. It made you miss Eddie’s blaring music that he liked to play in his bedroom, surely annoying every neighbor within a five mile stretch.

You heave a heavy sigh and trek toward the back of the trailer, remaining cautious about the water dripping from you—having toed your shoes off at the door to help with that. The bathroom is tiny, barely big enough to fit the necessities, a stand up shower in the place of what would normally be a bathtub, but you’re not one to complain. You fiddle with the faucet handle for a while, adjusting it until the water ran hot and swiped the curtain close to trap in the heat.

Your clothes fell to the floor in a wet mess, realizing much too late that you didn’t have anything of yours to put on—clothes were obvious, but the problem lies within your soaked bra and underwear. It was a problem you could deal with later, naked body shivering in the stagnant air. You slip into the shower quickly, letting out an audible sigh as the heat hits your body and suddenly everything is fixed.

It was a wasted trip to Rick’s unfortunately, he was low on his stash, sending Eddie home empty handed for the weekend.

The stress of the day was enough to knock Eddie on his ass the second he stepped inside the trailer—not to mention having lost his D&D notebook earlier in the day and having nothing for Hellfire that night, scribbling most of it down from memory in an attempt to make do. His keys clatter against the counter, palm rubbing over his face in exhaustion as he slips his shoes off, stumbling over another pair in the process.

And unless Wayne had decided to take a night off and not give him a warning ahead of time, he might regret trailing any further inside the trailer—and that’s when it dawns on Eddie, the shower running in the background.

He takes it all in—shoes, shower, his eyes wander further, scanning for anything else—his eyes land on a bag, soaked and sitting on the kitchen floor, his notebook peeking out of the unzipped zipper.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles to himself, snatching the backpack up into his hands. He pulls the notebook out and tosses it aside, thankfully it had been unscathed from the rain.

But, he could spot this bag anywhere. He saw it every day, stared at it in the back of his English class when he was bored out of his goddamn mind.

So, unless his conclusion was more fucked than what was probably going on, you had to be somewhere inside his trailer—and with narrowing it down, that probably meant the shower. He glanced at the clock, knowing that Wayne had to be gone; there was no way in hell he was taking a day off unless he was sick and bed-ridden.

He hears the faucet turn off from where he’s standing, dropping the bag on the counter. He can’t decide if he should approach or stay back, but it’s too late to decide before you’re stepping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body, using another to squeeze out the extra water from your hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice travels, a smirk growing on his face, “but what the hell are you doing in my trailer, alone?”

You panic, having not expected him to be standing in the kitchen when you stepped, hoping you had enough time to shower and get dressed—but unfortunately, this was your reality.

“Jesus, Eddie.” You exclaim, palm pressed over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. You toss the towel on the floor with your soaked clothes, turning to him. “I—your notebook, you left it in class.”

“What?” Eddie asks dumbfounded.

“Your notebook—you left it.” You explain slower, taking a few steps into the living room and passing a small distance toward the kitchen, poised on the opposite side of the counter where Eddie was standing. “I figured it was important so I wanted to get it back to you.”

“Did you look inside it?” Eddie presses, but it wasn’t like you didn’t already know his nerdy tendencies. “And you couldn’t have waited?”

“No—and no.” You tell him, “I tried giving it to you after practice but the building was locked and I needed to buy off you, so I figured two birds, one stone, you know?”

You step back slightly and Eddie’s eyes follow—you weren’t naive, he was checking you out. You didn’t mind though, despite how awkward the situation was.

“Your uncle let me inside,” You explain, “I walked here and it started pouring, my clothes are soaking wet.”

“And that’s my problem?” Eddie asks meanly, though it comes off as more teasing than anything. Eddie couldn’t be mean to you if he tried.

“Yes,” You challenge, “I need to borrow some clothes.”

Eddie laughs slightly, fingers tapping against the countertop quietly, rings clanking against the surface. His tongue pokes at his cheek, eyes traveling your mostly bare figure, “Fine, follow me.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, following closely behind.

“I would have taken them regardless.” You retort quietly and Eddie howls a laugh over his shoulder.

“Sweetheart, I was messing with you.” Eddie responds smugly, “What kind of guy do you take me for?”

“I don’t take you for anything,” You tell him honestly, “I know what people say about you but what does that matter?”

The words hit Eddie deeper than he anticipates, glaring at the floor as he stops at the threshold of his room, seeing you follow behind in the mirror stretching the expanse of his wall. He’s suddenly dry in the mouth and at a loss for words, realizing the gravity of the situation—even if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

A naked girl in his house, his bedroom—one that he couldn’t help but have a crush on despite every sign telling him he shouldn’t, and she didn’t hate him. Karma had a hell of a way of working its magic and he couldn’t trust this for a second. So, despite his immediate reaction to be flustered and searching for the right words, he slips the mask back on.

“Maybe it’s true,” He shrugs, raising his arm up to let you slip under, walking in front of him and toward his dresser, “top is shirts, bottom is pants—“

You grab a shirt wordlessly, one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts. He had a few, something that could be noted with a quick glance in his drawer, before you’re pulling out an old pair of cotton sweatpants from the next drawer, tossing them on the bed.

“—is that all,” Eddie asks curiously, leaning against the doorframe, “just a shirt and pants?”

“Everything was soaked, Eddie.” You stressed, eyes glaring at him. “Do you mind?”

“No.” He grins devilishly, not bothering to turn away.

There was no way you were letting him get away with this.

“Fine.” You respond with a shrug, calling his bluff.

You drop the towel without warning and Eddie visibly tenses, only catching the side of your breasts as you turn to slip the shirt over your head, ass on full display.

Eddie’s never been so intimidated in his life. But, he wasn’t giving in that easily.

You pull the sweatpants over your hips and turn to him, eyebrow cocked up intimidatingly. “Enjoy yourself?”

Eddie takes a careful glance at you, stopping on his shirt.

“Actually—do you mind picking something else?” Eddie asks, finger coming up to tug at the sleeve, “This is one of my favorites.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes boring into his, the corners of his lips crinkling as he grinned. “You’re kidding?”

“Dead serious.” He answers quickly.

You slip the shirt off in one go, not giving him much of a chance to enjoy the view, hurling the material at his face.

“Hey,” His voice is muffled, grabbing the shirt out of annoyance and balling it up, tossing it somewhere in his room—you couldn’t be bothered to care, pulling the new shirt over your head, “—look, I’m sorry.”

“For?” You ask, arms crossing over your chest as you look at him. “Being annoying? Obnoxious, irritating—“

“Okay, okay—“ Eddie says with a laugh, hoping it stops your relentless attempt to belittle him. “I was joking, I didn’t think you’d, you know…”

“So, you didn’t want me to strip naked in front of you?” You ask teasingly, returning that bite of mean right back at him. “Damn, that sucks.”

You attempt to shove past him, trying to hurry up the process and get out of there, feeling that if you stayed any longer you would just embarrass yourself further.

You never make it past Eddie, his hand pressed flat against your stomach in an effort to stop you. You glance down at his hand for a moment too long and Eddie thinks that is the overstep—not everything that happened just a few seconds prior.

“Sorry,” He says quickly, “I just—I was going to tell you that I don’t have anything to sell. I’m out until next week. But, I can give you a ride home, if you need it.”

“Unless you want me sleeping here, yeah.” You retort flippantly.

Eddie doesn’t respond, letting you shove past and gathering your things, shoes still soaked ridiculously. You sigh, squatting down by the door to turn your shoes upside down, the water dripping from the laces and creating a puddle.

Eddie watches from a few feet away, hip leaning against the counter, “I don’t mind—if you want to sleep here.”

“I just need a few hours, maybe two if I can dry them out somehow.”

And truthfully, the easier option would be to sleep it off and deal with it tomorrow, the rain back to its original heavy downpour. The thunder crackles ominously and Eddie smiles slightly, less condescending and more welcoming.

“I didn’t say thank you for bringing that all the way here,” Eddie notes, “so, thank you.”

“You don���t have to—“

“You could’ve just left it but you didn’t.” Eddie shrugs, nodding toward the couch wordlessly. You’re hesitant at first, knowing that you and Eddie didn’t do these things. You didn’t talk, not really—and you definitely didn’t hang out. Social cliques handled that well enough.

“Well, if it was me I would hope that someone would return the favor.” You tell him honestly, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch, bare feet pressed into the cushion separating you both.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Eddie tells you randomly, idle hand pulling at the loose threads on the arm of the couch.

“You didn’t.” You smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Trust me, you would know.”

“Good.” Eddie smiles to himself. “Good.”

You snort softly, “So, can I ask what’s in the notebook?”

“Do you really want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” You nod, grinning at him, “besides, what else are we supposed to do all night?”

Eddie’s never flushed so red, ears burning with embarrassment. You laugh quietly at his inability to hide his bashfulness, the chain connected to his pants jingling as he walked, fetching the notebook from its place.

“Uh, it’s kinda confusing,” Eddie admits, taking a closer seat beside you, “so it would probably make no sense even if I tried to explain it.”

You reposition your feet under you, sitting on your heels. Eddie’s book is filled with countless scribblings and drawings, not a single page blank as he lets you flip through slowly, taking in the detail Eddie puts into his art.

“Eddie, this is really good.” You tell him honestly, running your finger along the lines of a rather menacing figure, deathly and sickening looking, covered in a hooded cape. “I didn’t know you could draw like this.”

“It’s not—“ Eddie starts uneasily, gearing to say something self-deprecating.

“Shut up,” You tell him quickly, “don’t even say it.”

Eddie laughs at that, your face serious despite the smile that breaks out on his face. He’s never taken a compliment in his life, but for some reason, he listens.

“Thanks.” He tells you softly, closing the book and placing it on the table placed in front of the couch.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure what to expect from Eddie. He’s always been a mystery to you, aside from the things people said about him.

“Why do you let people talk about you the way they do?” You ask curiously, head tilted to rest against the couch.

“Why disprove what’s true,” Eddie shrugs, “that reminds me, I’ve got a sacrifice to attend later tonight—“

“Eddie,” You linger on his name, eyeing him pointedly, “I’m serious.”

He shrugs wordlessly, twisting his rings absentmindedly, “I can’t be bothered to give a shit what people think about me.”

You’re silent, Eddie’s gaze downturned toward the floor.

“Aren’t you breaking all types of rules by talking to me—I thought you cheerleaders only associated with Jason and his band of assholes?”

You snort in amusement, shoving Eddie gently with your foot.

“Is that all you take me for?” You ask teasingly, “A cheerleader?”

Eddie shrugs, he couldn’t explain his attraction toward you—earlier actions aside, he’s always been intrigued by you. The act of wanting what he knew he couldn’t have.

And you can’t tell if Eddie is trying to act coy, or he’s just shy—you’d never take him for the type, but sitting here with him now his personality had taken a quick turn. His usual hard exterior was a lot softer around the edges. Eddie glanced at you sparingly, pulling at the frayed material of his ripped jeans.

“Come here.” You urge him suddenly, using the small ounce of courage you had in your body to take a chance, extending your hand for him to move closer.

Eddie’s apprehensive in a way, allowing himself to scoot as close as possible, your legs extending over his lap.

“Answer the question, Eddie.” You order him softly, “Am I just some cheerleader to you? Is that why you like me?”

His stomach is in his throat, staring you down with comically wide eyes, his bangs curtaining over his forehead messily. Eddie shakes his head wordlessly.

“So you do?” You ask with a faint smugness, “Like me?”

“Am I that obvious?.” Eddie asks with a chuckle.

You shake your head, “No, actually—but that shit you pulled earlier…kinda gave you away.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it either.” He counters, fingers pressing into the soft cotton of his sweatpants on your body, “Now look who’s sitting here in my clothes.”

“Because I was soaked.” You defend.

“After walking five minutes in the rain just to return my notebook.” Eddie points out, “That you could’ve returned to me on Monday—yet, here you are.”

The tension is thick, Eddie’s plush lips on full display as his jaw tensed. Your fingers wander, the guitar pick around his neck tickling your palm as you examine it, speaking idly.

“What a genius,” You snark playfully, “Say, what’s your policy on kissing customers?”

“Hard no,” Eddie smiles, lying through his teeth, “why?”

“Damn.” You curse, eyes flicking up towards him. He’s got a heat behind his gaze, the warmness of his brown eyes comforting you, oddly enough. “That’s too bad.”

“But, I think I can make an exception.” Eddie adds, the fingers that trailed down your leg now sneaking up under your chin, tilting your face up slightly. “Right?”

“It’s only fair,” You agree, “seeing as I came all this way for nothing.”

You both knew it was a lie. Regardless, you would’ve ended up in this situation at some point.

“Come here.” Eddie says patronizingly, teasing you for earlier.

You pull forward slowly, Eddie’s lips barely grazing yours as his thumb runs along your chin, tugging at your bottom lip slightly to part them, his lips pressing against them gently. You press forward eagerly, nearly shifting into Eddie’s lap, but he’s quick to stop you.

“Slow,” He stresses, pulling back to look at you, half-lidded eyes gazing into yours, “we’ve got all night, right?”

You smile through a laugh, nodding slowly in response.

“All night,” You confirm, “it seems you’ve already got a few ideas to keep us busy.”

“I’ve got plenty.” Eddie says lowly, leaning forward to run his tongue against your top lip teasingly, “if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” You breathe out against his mouth, “and I’m pretty competitive, so—“

“Perfect.” Eddie grins with an edge that you can’t decipher, gripping your chin between his fingers to pull you even closer, “So am I.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[comphy-and-cozy]

oh I have a marty thot for sure! I’ve been thinking about riding his thigh while he sits back and just watches, kinda unimpressed at the show and telling you “you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Earn It

Pairing: Matt Martin x sugar baby!reader (f)

Universe: sugar daddy Marty

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Sugar daddy/baby dynamic, lap dance, semi-public/risque sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mild degradation, creampie, a little bit of cum play (lmao jfc).

Fridays are supposed to be celebratory; the end of the week, welcoming in a few days off to relax and reset. What they’re not supposed to be are stressful, non-stop, chaotic. 

Yet here you are, already thinking about the large glass of wine you’re going to pour yourself when you get home; the only decision you’re planning to make for the rest of the night is red or white. 

Setting your keys into the bowl on the table beside the door, you eye the pristine leather sneakers next to your shoe rack, but make no move to greet the person you already know is waiting on the couch. You knew you’d regret having the extra key made for him, that he’d show up unannounced like a poorly-timed pimple, but it’s not like you really could say no—not when you consider that he all but pays your rent. 

When you round the corner, bag left on the quartz countertop (an upgrade he insisted on when you were signing your new lease), you finally offer him your attention.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he muses, glancing up from where he’s scrolling on his phone. You do your best to mask the shiver that runs down your spine when his eyes lock with yours. Based on the smirk that quirks up on his face, you’d wager a guess that you did a poor job of it.

“Hi, Matty,” you say. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You need a new dress for the charity gala,” he drawls. 

“I do, do I?”

He ignores your attitude, standing up to walk over to the island and setting the invitation in front of you. You glance it over, admiring the thick, black cardstock and gold foil detailing the casino-themed event taking place at UBS Arena next month.

“Black tie attire,” you hum. “I don’t have anything that’s black-tie appropriate.”

“That’s why you need a new dress.”

“And that’s why you’re here right now, sitting on my couch after a day from hell, full of back-to-back meetings, am I correct?”

Matt smiles again. “Already have a bubble bath going for you, my little brat. I’ll be here tomorrow at 9 to pick you up.”

You feel a little guilty for the sass, smiling bashfully at him as he plants a sweet kiss on your cheekbone on his way to the door. “Lock up behind me, darlin’.”

Goddamn him. Always knowing exactly how to charm you to get you to bend to his every will—but not without giving him the kind of attitude that makes his dick hard. A fair tradeoff, in your opinion.

That’s why you work, why your dynamic makes your relationship feel so smooth and seamless and… perfect. Except the part where he’s paying you to fuck him.

Either way, it’s how you find yourself walking along Fifth Avenue, following Matt as he leads you into stores with price tags that intimidate you so much, your cheeks get hot. He lets you browse on your own, warming you up a bit, picking out a few items for work along with a new Yves Saint Laurent purse.

Purchase after purchase. Item after item. The ease with which Matt whipped out his thick, black credit card—you know, the heavy ones that just feel luxurious—almost physically pains you as you try to do the mental math of what he’d spent today.

Finally, you follow him to the dresswear section of Bergdorf Goodman’s, admiring the ease with which he carries the multiple bags in his large hands. You feel well and truly spoiled, thinking to yourself that the dark green lace set he purchased at Fleur du Mal will come in handy later when it comes time to show your gratitude.

“This dress,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing an affectionate kiss to your skin as the fitting room attendant readies a room for you. “I want everyone there to imagine fucking you out of it.”

At this point, you’re used to his blunt and sometimes crude nature, but that doesn’t stop your skin from heating at his crass words. You can’t deny the warmth that radiates between your legs, though, at the thought of him showing you off, claiming you as his, publicly. And, well, how are you supposed to say no to him buying you a dress that’s worth more than your groceries for the month?

The selection is enormous, and you find yourself overwhelmed by the options—lace, chiffon, silk, crepe—all of it doesn’t mean much to you, so you rely on your stylist to select a few options that complement your body type. Matt sits quietly in the corner of the fitting room, watching you try on dress after dress, making barely any comment other than an occasional hum.

When the stylist leaves you to contemplate your options, you glance over your reflection, at the Alex Perry gown that stares back at you. It’s the first dress that feels right, and you can’t help the feeling of excited anticipation that fills your chest when you think about wearing it beside Matt at the gala. Maybe he’d wear that delicious gray suit that you like, the one you almost stained permanently humping his thigh like a fucking dog in heat.

“Is this the one you want?”

You do a final spin in the mirror, checking the various angles and standing on your toes to imitate your height in heels. It’ll need to be altered a bit, but you’re pleased with the way it fits your body and, more importantly, the way it makes you feel luxurious. With your nod, Matt leans forward and glances at the price tag hanging out of the back. His eyes flick to yours in the mirror, and you stew in discomfort for the few seconds before he’s sitting back, apparently approving of the price.

A wide smile forms on your face, feeling a bit like a child on Christmas morning at your excitement. You like Matt for far more than his wallet, but you can’t deny that it feels nice to be spoiled by him, to feel lavished by his gifts and special treatment. 

“Think it’s time for you to say thank you, don’t you?” 

Matt’s low purr snaps you out of your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the navy silk material that’s hugging your body. The corset bodice keeps you tucked in, accentuating the curve of your breasts, fabric draped across your middle and fastened in place with a large, glittering piece. But the real attention-grabber is the slit on the left side that goes up to your hip, revealing almost your entire leg.

You cast a glance at him in the mirror, a flutter in your chest when you see the way his eyes rake in your reflection. He hums, and though he told you it was your decision, you’re pleased that he likes what he sees.

“Thank you, Matty,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. You lean forward and press a kiss against his lips, warm and soft—the kind you could fall into with ease. He smiles, crooked and patronizing as he tsks.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that isn’t good enough. Look at all these bags—all for you. I think I deserve more gratitude than that, hm?”

The hidden meaning of his velvet words are enough to make you shiver, your heart chilling as you realize what he wants. His eyes glitter as he watches you, sees the recognition on your face and the hitch in your throat. 

Your voice is hoarse as you whisper, “Here?”

Matt blinks, lazily, with a raised eyebrow, like he’s challenging to you to deny him. Of course you can’t, and he knows it. He leans back on the bench, his back resting against the wall and his legs spread comfortably. It’s a silent invitation, one you can’t refuse, and you find yourself moving to sit in his lap with a shaky gulp.

His hands weave their way to your hips, warm through the material of your jeans. “Good girl.”

With just the right amount of pressure, he encourages you to move your waist, swaying your hips as your ass brushes against his groin. He’s half hard, the bulge firm against you as you set a rhythm, listening for any other customers entering the dressing rooms nearby. The classy elevator music hums softly through the speakers while the silk covering your ass glides against his slacks in a filthy narrative.

A low hum of approval sounds from Matt’s chest, eyes glued to the way you work your hips. It isn’t long before you’re glancing behind you, meeting his eyes as he regards you with his easy, lazy gaze. Beneath the firm press of your ass, you can feel him hardening as the tick of your heartbeat increases in your throat. His signature smirk slides its way onto his face, smug, soaking in the fact that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, willing to do practically anything he asks you.

It isn’t long before he’s stiff, solid beneath you, and you feel an involuntary throb at the size of him. Every moment, you remain vigilant, ears perked for voices—or worse, the sound of someone’s gasp. It reflects in your movements, not lackluster but certainly not to your usual level of enthusiasm. There’s something about him when he’s like this—cocky confidence rolling off of him in waves, his gaze heating your skin—that drives you desperately, deliciously wild, a feral urge in you snatching control of your conscience.

But not right now. And he knows it.

He hums, displeased, and you have a split moment to register his disappointment before he’s purring, “Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

The velvet of his voice strokes the flame inside you, sending a wave of warmth between your thighs. Another throb against the stiffness under your ass. His hands remain at his sides, not offering any assistance. You can practically feel his lazy gaze on your ass, waiting patiently for you to react.

He senses your hesitation, knows the reason you’re timid—waiting for the fitting room attendant to come back at any minute and discover the lewd situation unfolding. So he changes his approach, voice honeyed and silky smooth. “Look at that gorgeous dress. Y’look fucking stunning in it, baby. But you gotta earn it, darlin’.”

You meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, see the glitter in them that tells you he’s serious, accepting the small nod he gives you. Bracing your hands on his meaty thighs, you resume your movements, pressing yourself into his groin with more force.

Matt’s words echo in your head as you work him—and yourself—into a frenzy. Earn it. He didn’t specify what his… end goal was, but from the glint in his eye you think it’s safe to assume it’s more than just a clothed lap dance in the middle of the dressing room. 

How you ended up half-naked, thong tugged to the side, hands bracing yourself against the wall of the fitting room, you’re not sure; all you really know is the feeling of Matt’s weight behind you, so tall his face is almost out of your view in the mirror’s reflection. He’s not looking at you, instead focused on tapping the head of his erection against your ass.

You bite your lip to stifle a whine, staring at him in the hopes he’ll offer you just a glance so you can beg him silently to please, put it in. Eventually, he does, sees the desperation pooling in your eyes and chuckles smugly, pleased at the rash desire he finds in them.

“Arch it for me, sweet girl.”

Obeying, you press your ass out toward him, thinking you’d break your back right here, right now, if it meant he’d provide you with some relief. His warm palm presses against your spine, encouraging you to go further, and he hums in approval at the view you present him: expensive dress bunched over the swell of your hips, ass out, pussy dripping, eyes wanton and pleading with him in the mirror.

“You want it?” he asks, his voice so low you strain to hear it.

You’re almost embarrassed at how fast you nod, not wanting to waste any time. He smirks again, and you know he’s biting back the urge to tease you, instead just offering, in all its simplicity: “Slut.”

There’s a brief moment where he allows his words to sink in, a flood of arousal seeping out of your bare, uncovered core, threatening to drip onto the faded wood flooring of the dressing room. You’re grateful that he didn’t make you beg—he usually does—but then he’s pressing into you without warning and a loud cry leaves your lips.

Your hand slaps over your mouth to muffle the sound, but he’s already gotten what he wants out of you, a more than obvious admission of the debauchery occurring just inside the fitting room. Instead, he focuses on the warm wetness enveloping his dick, watching the way your cunt sucks him in, greedy.

Despite his reckless attitude, he’s aware of the slap of his hips against your ass, and instead of jackhammering into you the way he wants to, he’s opted for hard, deep, slow thrusts; hard enough to have a soft, involuntary sigh every time he sheaths himself to the hilt inside of you. It’s the opposite of a quickie (even though that’s exactly what this is); instead, he’s diligent, indulging himself in the feeling of your tight walls throbbing around his length. 

All things considered, you’re pleased with the minimal amount of noises sounding from your stall; though your body shivers when you hear the low groan rumble in his chest. With a glance in the mirror, you can see the way he’s watching himself pull out of your cunt, biting his lip at the sight.

Matt offers a light slap of his tip against your lips before he’s jutting his hips forward, subtly, to rub his length against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, the slickness of his shaft sliding against the tender button, and you feel the shockwaves coursing through you at the movement. 

With his free hand, he gathers your hair in his fist and yanks backward, arching your back until your head is resting against his chest. The sharp pain melds into pleasure, loving the way he knows exactly how to take control over your body to have you dizzy with lust. Hot breath fans over your ear, soft and subtle pants puffing air down your neck. “Fuck yourself on it, baby.”

His warm fingers press into your hips, urging you to move; you do, seeking out that delicious tingle when the fat tip of his cock brushes against your clit, running between your folds. You hear the pleased hum in your ear, quiet, and then the chuckle that follows when he slips into you, a loud gasp leaving your lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a low groan. “So fucking wet for me, just the way I like it.”

Matt urges you to keep going, biting back another moan at the feeling of him being buried inside you. Your hips roll him in and out of you, and Matt’s hand trails over your ribcage, groping your breast on its way up to finally land at your throat, fingers curling around the base and squeezing. “Makin’ too much noise. Someone’s gonna hear you, and then I won’t get to flood this pretty little cunt with cum, will I?”

Swallowing the urge to whine with need, you shake your head, trying to tell him with your eyes how badly you want that. His lips press softly against the place where your shoulder meets your neck, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror while he angles his hips in search of the spot that’s going to have you dribbling down your legs. He knows he’s reached it by the way your mouth falls open, your brows scrunching in pleasure when the nudge of him against your g-spot has your eyes fluttering shut.

He hums again, and you know he’s pleased—both with himself for reading your body like his favorite book, and with you for being obediently quiet. The hand around your neck tightens while the forceful punch of Matt’s hips grows more intentional, aiming for precision rather than speed.

The smirk in the mirror, flashed in your direction is enough to make you shiver in his arms. “You think you can stay quiet while you come for me? Hmm?”

You’re trapped—can’t nod, can’t speak, barely hanging onto your last shred of control before you’re succumbing to the release that rips through you. Your legs shake, lungs scrambling for breath as the wave crashes over you, hands clutching the wall in search of purchase. Tears prick at the rims of your eyes, blurring your vision. 

Matty’s eyes glitter as he pulls out of you, grinning when he hears the slickness between your legs. 

“Love it when she purrs for me.”

It’s only when you feel hot liquid oozing out of you that you realize he met his climax, too, burying the evidence deep within your core. Your shaky legs clench together in an effort to prevent his cum from seeping down your legs and onto the floor.

Matt’s hands linger on your sides to make sure you’re steady before he’s tugging your panties back in place and swooping the dress back over your hips. He hums at the creamy drips on the inside of your thighs, swiping up to collect it on his finger. You don’t even have to be told to open your mouth, eyes fluttering shut when he presses the salty mixture onto your tongue. He hums when your lips close around the digit, sucking it clean before he releases it with a pop.

His eyes are still dark when he presses the call button on the wall with a crooked grin, and when the attendant knocks gently on the door, he says simply, “We’ll take the dress.”

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader

POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller

Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.

Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 4.5k

On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.

It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.

We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.

As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.

"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."

Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."

Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.

The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.

Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"

As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.

On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.

"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.

"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.

She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"

As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.

The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.

"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.

She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"

"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.

"So, this is where you live?"

She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."

She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.

"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 

The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 

"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 

She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."

The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.

"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.

"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.

"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.

"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.

"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.

Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.

now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.

"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.

"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.

As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.

"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.

"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."

"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.

Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."

As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.

"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.

As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.

"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.

But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?

"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."

As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.

"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.

"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”

“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.

The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.

The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.

We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.

"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.

"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.

"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.

As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."

[blueberrypancakesworld]

My heart...don't cry I'm here - Saltburn 2023

Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, angst, implied non-con kissing(from Oliver), jealousy, kissing/cuddling, mentions of blood

Summary : A winter ball or a party is an invitation with consequences and love that blossoms. Michael and his sweetheart were together, everything was perfect until one thing changed and love had to be defended.

Info : So again something for Saltburn and our sweet Michael a little thought/more complex. Have fun reading ;)

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

Everything had been perfect since she had been at university, her grades were good and she had made friends. It was the perfect environment in 2006 with the others.

And it was only going to get better since she showed up in his math class, the extra afternoon class with him for the students who wanted to review the subject.

Maybe it was because it was just the two of them in the afternoon class, maybe it was because Michael was the "teacher" for the time, or maybe it was because she started bringing him a crunchy bar every time. Whatever it was, it brought the two of them together.

Maybe it was his smile that appeared every time she got another task right which was so full of joy for her that she couldn't help but smile herself. His joy and devotion to the subject and to her was clear.

That it was bound to happen at some point that when she suddenly dropped a pen and they both bent down for it, it seemed like a scene from a bad romance novel. ,,Please, I insist," he said and his lips curled into that cute smile again, which almost seemed to make him excited.

He adjusted his glasses again and put the pen back in her hand, she greeted him with a ,,Thank you Michael... tell me, I'm very grateful for all this, would you mind coming for a cup of tea with me?" she dared to ask, already preparing to be laughed at by him, that his flight of fancy had caused him to drop her.

Instead, she was almost blown away when he practically ripped her arm out and shook her hand, smiling broadly at her.

,,Oh yes, I'd love to, my dear!" he had told her and this was the first date they had had in a small cafe near the university for tea and a few cupcakes but she had quickly realized that Michael preferred his Crunchy Bars to any other sweet things.

When he dug into the chocolate and drank the tea she smiled at him and she could always see his slight nervousness. He had changed a little, he was no longer as stern and serious as he was when he was studying.

She had often seen him in the library looking at the books and exercise books so intently. Always with a thoughtful look on his face. But now he was as cute as an excited golden retriever.

But it didn't bother anyone, it was even kind of cute when he told the cashier that he had miscalculated. How he insisted that they recalculate that his bill was correct and the machine was wrong.

Michael shouted out the answer and only calmed down when she put her hand on his and gave him an understanding look. ,,Excuse my... my boyfriend, please do the math again?" she asked, not seeing the look of confusion and then complete love behind his glasses.

She hadn't dismissed him, she hadn't laughed at him or shamed him, she had called him her boyfriend. They were a couple.

They were really together. They had been together for a few months, almost a year, and yet their love for each other had never changed, on the contrary, it had only grown stronger.

It was perfect until she found the little note under her notebook, she had met Michael in the library and they had studied together and she still seemed to feel the kiss on the back of his hand when he greeted her.

,,Romance, my dear romantic, is the best thing I can give you every day," he always said before he kissed her enruet gently and always with a little hint of nervousness. He hid his eyes, pushed up his glasses and disappeared, waving.

She looked after him for a moment before disappearing into the library shelves, not paying attention to her notebook, and only when she came back did she see the little note.

Dearest Blood, I would like you to show up at my party for the Winter Ball. With best regards O she left the handwritten message and looked around to see if she could find the person who had left it there. But no?

No one seemed to fit the bill, although she could knowingly assign the O as the sender. Oliver Quick. The mutual friend of the two of them, or the cheat if Michael was concerned.

Oliver and he used to be friends, but since the brown-haired man had been hanging out with the rich guys from Saltburn and such, neither of them recognized him anymore.

Giving the note her attention for a moment, she sat back down to study and decided to tell Michael in the afternoon when they met again, not knowing that two eyes were already watching her.

That his lips curled into a smile and the plan of plans went according to plan. After a while, she disappeared from the library and found her darling in the cafeteria, his plate full of food and almost always the same.

,,Michael, look what I've found from your... friend," she said as she came to him with her tray, also full of food, and sat down at her seat, handing him the paper.

She saw how at first he seemed a little unknowing and then he seemed to remember the deceiver who had once been his friend. Looking at the paper he let her know they knew Oliver had changed but now?

Was it a good idea to go to the party? ,,A party...my darling, only if you feel like it, of course I would accompany you, it would certainly...certainly be interesting to see how he has been," Michael said and handed her the note after reading it again.

She looked at the paper, she didn't know the word "blood" from Oliver, she never thought he would become like this. One of the rich ones.

But was it true and didn't everyone deserve a second chance? That's what they both thought when they turned up at the Winter Ball, or rather the big boozy party, and they were rather overdressed.

Michael had chosen his suit and the white rose on his breast pocket, she had picked it out, fluffed it through his hair and given him a motivating kiss.

In return, he had laced up her dress and showered her with compliments before the two of them had walked through the large double doors just a few minutes later and found themselves at the "Winter Ball".

She heard the horrified sound of Michael looking at the party with an uncertain look that resembled her own. She wondered how the hell so many people could fit in here - it shouldn't be possible, should it?

Everyone was close together, bumping into their neighbors. ,,Shall we go?" she asked, looking at Michael, who adjusted his glasses and looked at her, even though he seemed to want to leave, he shook his head.

,,Shall I get us some drinks and you Oliver?" he asked and looked at her, reaching for her hand to show her that it could be different, that he was looking for his friend and she was looking for the drinks. But when her gaze turned to the bar or whatever else was there, she almost felt dizzy.

Crowds upon crowds of people had taken over the area around it and finding her way back in there would be suicide. ,, Sure we can do that," she said hastily and gave him a grateful look before they parted and Michael set off to make his way through the dancing drug addicts and his favorite through the crowds on the way to Oliver.

After having to dodge several drinks, drugs and dancing people and a leap backwards to avoid being hit by a keg of beer, she was about to give up the search when she saw a brown mop of hair disappear into one of the many rooms. A room she had never seen before.

There were many brown-haired people here, but when she saw the brief smile on the lips of the stranger, there seemed to be no doubt. It was a knowing smile, an amused smile, a hungry smile. The smile of someone who knew exactly what was going on around him.

Following the stranger into the room and opening the door, it suddenly seemed quieter, as if the walls had been built in such a way as to keep the lowly folk at bay. ,,Oliver Quick?" she asked, annoyed that her voice sounded so uncertain even though she had no reason to be.

She knew him, she thought, and yet it also seemed to be due to the room that she felt like she was being swallowed up.

Her voice didn't have the confidence she wanted and she felt her heart beat faster as the man turned around. ,,My blood, you really came, I thought you and the nerd had gone off," he sneered and she could just see his eyes roaming over her body.

He had tried to hide his attraction for her back then, but she had already seen that he was always too tempted to hug her as his hands wandered over her body.

Until she got together with Michael and Oliver left for Saltburn. ,,No we didn't Oliver, we're here to see how you're doing," she replied, glancing over her shoulder, knowing the door was within reach.

But the wolf in front of her was watching her and seemed to want to wrap his jaws around her at any moment. He smiled, winked at her and came towards her, step by step he seemed to enjoy seeing her like this more and more.

,,Looking around then, dear? You were worried how flattering," he whispered and continued to walk towards her, his hand reaching for hers and she felt him kiss the back of her hand, not sure if she should pull away. It was disgusting only Michael ever kissed her like that.

He wasn't Michael he wasn't the romantic he was a creep. ,,Let go of me, we're done here!" she screamed, wanting to tear her arm free and run for the door, out of the room, away from him, away from everything, and yet the wolf seemed faster.

Grasping her wrist, he healed her in place and the grin of his fangs frightened her even more and she wanted to scream. She could already feel herself gathering air, she would scream for her friend until she fell silent.

Something almost medicinal tasted, medicinal, bitter. Alcohol. The alcohol and drug-filled kiss of Oliver on her lips that robbed her of any scream.

She felt his hands running over her body, reaching for everything he could get, wanting more and more. It was disgusting the pressure on her arms, legs and back as he tried to loosen the bow.

Before suddenly all her senses exploded fear and panic flooded through her and she tore him away from her. She ran out and saw the grin behind her as he licked his lips as if he wanted more of this forbidden treasure.

She no longer saw anything but fear as she hurried through the crowd, not paying attention to the people, and only cried out again, which was drowned out by the music when she felt hands on her shoulders.

,,Darling!" she heard the nickname and feared it was Oliver who had opened up to her and wanted to pull her back into the room and take her into the dark.

She was afraid of what would happen. ,,Honey, it's Michael! What's going on? What happened?" he asked, his hands on her cheeks trying to calm her down, seeing the fear screaming in her eyes.

Her eyes full of fear looked at him and slowly she began to understand that it wasn't Oliver, that it wasn't the one who had kissed her who wanted more of her. ,,Mi-Michael...I-I want to leave now!" she screamed at him and saw that he was looking over her, searching for something to explain what had happened.

But by then he had already grabbed her by the hand and taken her out of the building, walked her to the car and put her inside.

The cool night enveloped her, but the heat seemed slow to overcome her. ,,What happened?" he asked, his voice calm yet demanding, she didn't have to look to know that he was pulling himself together, that his hands were shaking, that his body was tense and that he would give anything to help her.

,,Oli-Oliver he...kissed me...I flew I had to get away," she stammered, still afraid of what might have happened if she hadn't escaped.

Instead, she felt a comforting warmth other than the heat of the party Oliver gently placed his hand on hers and gave her a soft sympathetic expression before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a Crunchy bar.

His kiss was as gentle and careful as Oliver could ever be and he said, ,,Wait here please I'll be back in a few minutes everything will be fine darling". It was almost absurd how gentle he could be in this situation and she gave him as grateful a look as she could.

Before he left, he pulled out a handkerchief, skillfully wiped away the tears and gave her one last gentle kiss on the head.

It was so different from Oliver when Michael disappeared into the dark back to the party while she was back in the car looking at the bar in her hand. But this time the beating of her heart was different, it wasn't full of fear, it was full of love.

Even then, when he returned a few minutes later, she was startled to see the blood on his white shirt, the splinter in his glasses and the blood on his fingers. He wanted to start the car without saying a word but hadn't sorted himself out.

This time she put her hand on his, put her head on his shoulder and said a simple, ,,Thank you Michael, I love you" as he gave her another kiss.

She knew the blood smelled of Oliver he knew Michael had hit him but she didn't care she had him with her. His kisses covered Oliver's and with each kiss she slowly forgot what had happened.

There was only her and Michael had only ever given it and would only ever give it.

~~~~~~~~~

@ateliefloresdaprimavera , @valeskafics , @ria-coolgirl , @wigglywoos59 , @sapphirespiders , @su-per-fi-cial-if-rep-us

[paper-crab]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

summary: letters to your past crushes get out and its a whole mess, based on the movie/book, yadayada

warnings: swearing, cliché, very rushed

wc: 6914

ignore any grammar mistakes it’s too long for me to reread and if it doesn’t flow smoothly i’m so sorry i rushed it so bad

Writing letters was an emotional release; something healthy to pass the time, and look back on later.

That’s why you’d written a series of letters, spanning from 3rd grade to now- senior year. They were intimate letters, ones you wrote to get your mind off of a crush you’d gained, so when you’d looked for the box to add a new letter and couldn’t find it, you freaked out.

Luckily, younger you was only able to get her hands on two addresses.

Unfortunately, those addresses were the two worst ones you could have gotten. Everybody else had either moved, or come out. They were irrelevant.

Who had gotten the letters, however, were not irrelevant: your school's player, and your best friend's boyfriend. You were fully in panic mode now, how are you supposed to recover from that? You can only contemplate your options for so long before anxiety eats at you. Maybe if you skipped a week or so of school it would blow over.

“Yeah, not happening. Rise and shine.”

You groan. “Dad, you don’t understand. This could ruin my life, I might actually die.”

He doesn’t respond, leaving you to grovel and pick up the pieces of your pride.

In order to avoid your friend's boyfriend, you need to avoid her, which means you’re walking around school alone. You know you’ll need to have that awkward conversation, telling him ‘I liked you when you were just my childhood best friend- those feelings have passed’, but you also know that you are going to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Asserting yourself was never really your strong suit.

You had grown up next door to her boyfriend, and fell out of touch with him in middle school. While he was blossoming as a social butterfly, you lurked in the background, like a moth drawn to his effervescent light. Like the sun, the light was too hot for you to stay in, and you stopped talking until mid junior year when your friend had reintroduced you.

The other letter, the heartthrob, had been a lot kinder in middle school. You’d heard some not-so-kind stories about him recently though, and they were the exact opposite of the kid, Matt, that you knew.

You hadn’t been particularly close or anything, only exchanging a few words in your 7th grade math class, but you were infatuated with him. When you were younger, he hardly talked, but lacrosse had brought him out of his shell; the shell you’d never managed to crack- or rather the cocoon you’d never emerged from.

Matt probably didn’t know your name, even though you’d boldly signed it in your letter, so you were confident he wouldn’t find you. It’d be just another day for him, hopefully.

Your friend's boyfriend, on the other hand, was constantly with you. He lived right next door to you, and you felt like it was impossible to avoid him. You’d try to get through the school day without an encounter, then lock yourself in your room to never be seen again.

The first couple periods you had? Had gone off without a hitch. Then you hit lunch, and even if you tried, you couldn’t run from your friend forever. She found you, her boyfriend trailing behind.

“I missed you this morning!” She tells you, reaching to give you a hug. You don’t do much but nervously laugh, pulling away from her. “Yeah, I came late.” You lied.

“Ugh I wish, I’m going to get lunch, you coming with?” She says, more to her boyfriend than you. He shakes his head, “I’m good.”

“Alright, be back in a minute!”

“Can we ta-”

You cut him off immediately, nervous laughter coming back. “I have a test to study for, so I’m going to the library, sorry. We’ll catch up later. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it himself.

After excusing yourself, you make a beeline for the library, seeking a moment of respite. The library turns out not to offer that much solace either, because you see Matt’s two brothers enter, meaning he can’t be far behind. When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on you, lighting up slightly. You see him excuse himself from his brothers, and you immediately stand and run out of there, muttering “Nope, no, no,” under your breath. The sound of you slamming the library door open definitely isn’t quiet.

You can’t help but begin to panic, packing up your things and abruptly running out of the school, through the parking lot, and jumping into your car. If studying wasn’t how you were going to escape the situation, avoiding lunch apparently was. It’s tempting, incredibly so, to skip the rest of your day, but you know you’d be in so much trouble. You can’t handle that right now.

You head back in and continue your day, just praying, wishing, dreaming that you won’t encounter the two people you don’t want to see most- but now you’re seeing them out of the corner of your eye in every passing period; and you can’t even confide in the one person you most want to.

The school day ending feels like your saving grace. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically, from running away from your friend and her boyfriend, and narrowly avoiding Matt didn’t help.

You walk out of the school, into the parking lot towards the direction of your car, ready to be done with the day.

In highschool, you’re never done.

Your friend's boyfriend is leaning against your car, looking around for you, arms crossed. You make a sharp left, in the direction of the lacrosse field and bleachers. You’re not really thinking about it when you do it, it’s just the closest shelter, other than walking back in the hellhole that is the school.

You make your way onto the bleachers mindlessly, trying not to think about the events of today. You set your backpack next to you, not realizing there’s an unexpected guest making his way up to the top of the bleachers where you sat.

“Hi.” You jump, startled by the sudden voice as he sits next to you. You recognize that voice, obviously, so you flinch before turning to him. “Y/n, right?”

You nod, not sure how to continue this. There’s a plethora of things he could say, and you’d rather not hear any of them. Matt taps his fingers on the bleachers, waiting for you to acknowledge that he’s said anything; when you realize you nod.

“Look,” he starts, and that’s never a good sign, “Your letter was really kind and whatever, but I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m not really ready for anything serious, so if you’re looking for casual-”

“I wrote that in 7th grade.”

“Oh.” He says, scratching his head. “Why’d you send the letter then?” You look to your left, spotting your friend's boyfriend walking towards you, and you panic.

“Kiss me,”

“Okay.” He shrugs, grabbing you. His eyes are closed, but you don’t bother closing yours. You’re a bit busy glancing in the direction of your other victim, and when you watch his face fall as he turns back around, you finally close your eyes. “Not that I’m mad about it, but what just happened?”

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re not the only one that got a letter. The other person is my best friends boyfriend,”

“Damn. That’s low of you, and I’m not special? My feelings are hurt.” He smiles a little bit, trying to ease your tense expression. “I wrote his before I ever wrote yours, and before they knew each other. I can’t talk to him, though, and if she ever finds out, it'll break her heart.”

“Okay, respect. I gotta get to practice, but I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You want to say no, but you don’t. He did just do you a big favor after all. “Yeah, see you then.”

-

He sticks to his words, finding you in the library the next day. His mouth twists into a grin when he sees you, and he shuffles over holding eye contact with you.

“Hey,” He says, slightly whispering. It might be lunch, but the librarian is still strict. She wants to preserve the quiet atmosphere of the room, in which you can only hear the sound of flipping pages and an occasional murmur. “Mind if I join?” He settles in next to you.

“Uhm.. listen,” You say, launching into a monologue, “about the whole letter thing, It’s, uh, not what it seems. Well it is, but it’s not. I wrote those letters a long time ago, and they don’t reflect my feelings now, and I never meant for them to get out, so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into it, and I’m sorry you did, get dragged into it, that is.”

“If you didn’t mean for them to get out, why would you send them?” He questions, tilting his head.

“I didn’t send them.”

“Okay, uhm, who did?”

“I don’t know, but I cannot talk to my friend's boyfriend, like ever.”

He nods, a mixture of concern and confusion evident on his face, like he’s really mulling the situation over.

“So, someone sent those letters behind your back? That’s not cool, dude. Messed up, but I think we can help each other out here, take control of the situation.” A wicked grin takes over his face. If you squint hard enough you can imagine a lightbulb over his head, like he’s had an “aha!” moment. “I have an idea,”

“What do you mean, control?”

“Yeah, control. Think about it, we fake date. You need your friend’s boyfriend off your back, and I need my ex to get jealous and come back to me. Win win, and it gives us a chance to control the narrative.”

“Yeah, I mean… it could work, maybe?” You respond, uncertainty in your tone. “How would it even work?

“I don’t see how it couldn’t.”

“Okay, I guess, but I don’t see how it could be that simple.”

“Yeah, it could. Trust me, we play it smart, manipulate the situation, and we get what we want.”

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You sure about this?” Matt asks, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah, I mean, you said it best. I can’t talk to him about this, not for a long while, anyways.”

“Sick.”

“So, uhm, what next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, rules and stuff?”

“You want rules, you make ‘em’” He shrugs. You grab out a notebook, labeling the top ‘Rules’ in neat handwriting. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“No kissing,” you start writing, and Matt groans.

“If we’re not kissing, how do you expect anyone to believe we’re dating?” You squirm a little bit.

“Matt,” you say in a hushed tone. Heat rises to your cheeks. “I don’t really kiss people,”

“Wait,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke, “was I your first kiss?”

When you don’t answer, he gasps. It almost makes him feel bad, but not enough to apologize. “No kissing then,” he confirms, trying to steer the conversation forward. “What else?”

“No couple-y social media shit,”

“Agreed. We keep it low-key.” He nods. “What about spending time together? How often do we go on dates, and are we hanging out all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe like, once a week? And I don’t wanna be around your friends all the time.”

“You don’t want to be around yours either,” he points out.

“Fair point. Once a week, I hang out with you?”

“Most days, yeah.”

“Also, no meeting the parents. That makes it too real.” You add.

“Off the table. Oh, I’m not calling you babe or any of that gross shit.” He says. You pale at the thought, literally gagging. “Please don’t, I think I’d throw up.”

“That it?” He laughs at you.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

The bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class,”

Your face morphs into confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“To make it seem like we’re really dating..?”

“Oh. Yeah,”

He walks you to class, hugging you when he drops you off. “Meet by the bleachers after school?”

“Yeah,” You say, slightly dazed by his request.

When you walk out of your classroom, you let your mind wander back to his ask, ‘what could he possibly want’ playing through your head. You walk through the front doors, taking a sharp left towards the bleachers; just like yesterday.

You’re not waiting for very long when Matt sneaks up on you, whispering “Boo.” into your ear.

You jump, caught off guard, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.

“What are you doing?”

“People are looking.” He shrugs a little. You’re eager for him to get to the point; the longer you’re away from your bed, the more cozy and inviting it sounds. He clears his throat. “I need your number,”

He’s careful to make it come out as a whisper so surrounding students don’t hear. To them, you’re already a couple.

“And your address, so I can pick you up tomorrow.”

“What?”

“As your boyfriend, I’ll be driving you to school, and home, and I need to pick you up for our date too.”

“Date tomorrow?”

“If you’re free, for the ‘spending time together’ bit,” he says, pulling his hands from your waist and doing air quotes with his fingers.

“I can drive myself,” You tell him, as he grabs his phone out and hands it to you sneakily. You proceed to put your number in, and your address, before handing it back to you.

“You can, but it’s more convincing if we come together.” He murmurs, absorbed in drafting you a message. After a moment, you hear the familiar ping of a notification.

“There,” he grins proudly, showing you the message. “Now it’s official.”

-

The morning sun casts a warm glow on you, making you feel cozy and relaxed, despite the nerves growing. The idea of Matt, and his brothers, coming to pick you up scares you a bit. You fiddle with the strap of your backpack as you wait on your front porch.

When you see a car pull up, you know that’s your cue to start walking down your driveway. Matt hops out, rushing to hug you and open the passenger door for you.

“Doesn’t Chris usually sit there?” You ask quietly, still smiling to keep up the charade. “Yeah, I made him move.” He whispers back before he walks to the driver's seat.

“Good morning,” Nick says, sounding completely done. Chris doesn’t even raise his head, giving you a small wave. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb them. You think them going out of their way to pick you up this morning was disturbing enough.

The car ride was a mixture of awkward silence and small talk. Nick and Chris are both too tired to engage much, but Matt is trying his hardest to keep them involved.

You pull up to the school gates after a short while, Matt parks the car. You get out and he walks over to you, joining your hands while you walk in. He gives you a reassuring smile as you walk in, “Don’t worry, they’re not always like this in the morning. I promise it’s not personal.”

You nod, trying your best to offer a smile that comes out faint. “Yeah, I won’t take it personally. Thanks again for the ride, Matt.”

“Of course,”

The second you get into the school, Nick and Chris part ways with you two. You’re still holding hands, you realize, when the murmurs and glances direct themselves towards you. Matt can feel the anxious energy you radiate because of it, so he leans in to whisper in your ear, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry, it’ll blow over soon.”

For all the stories you’d heard about him, you hadn’t expected him to be even half as polite. Maybe it’s because you were faking, you decide.

The rest of the day seems to float by in a blur, but Matt was right; the buzz around your relationship did seem to dissipate the more people saw you together. During lunch, you find yourself next to Matt. You’re doing your best to maintain the facade with his lacrosse friends, Chris among the group.

You can feel the stare of your best friend and her boyfriend though, and it only brings back those feelings of guilt and anxiety. You’re grateful for the distraction of food, though, because it provides you an out from conversations.

You’re not used to basking in the light like this.

As the bell rings, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. Matt walks you to your last class, of course, offering you a quick hug before parting ways.

The class passed by slowly as you try to piece together the events of the day. In under a week, you went from a nobody with 3 friends to a somebody dating one of the most popular boys. Fake dating.

When you’re finally dismissed from the shackles of public school, you feel an odd sense of relief. You know it won’t last very long because of your scheduled date tonight, but it’s there nonetheless.

You find Matt waiting outside your classroom, as promised, a smile on his face. He falls into step beside you as you make your way towards his car. The chatter of surrounding students fades into background noise when you’re with him. A cool breeze dances through the air, making you shiver a bit. For a moment, you stayed silent, enjoying the comfort he brought you just by being next to you.

It was reminiscent of middle school; his silence made you comfortable because you weren’t alone.

“Wait, don’t you have lacrosse practice?” You interrupt.

“I take Nick home everyday, I have time to take you too.”

You nod. As you navigate through the sea of juniors and seniors preparing to leave, Matt turns his head towards you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, offering a chuckle and a hesitant smile, “Just processing the day, you know? It’s kinda weird.”

He nods understandingly, turning his head back towards the car that Nick is already waiting at. The ride to your home feels significantly shorter when you engage in pleasant conversation with Nick and Matt.

Despite the guilt you feel over keeping up this act, the conversation flows genuinely and you find yourself really enjoying it. He pulls into your driveway, putting the car in park and smiling at you.

“Thank you, and thanks for today.”

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight?”

“You bet,” You say, waving goodbye to Nick. You walk into your house and feel like a puddle of goo, every emotion flooding your body in one go. It’s only the second day of pretending, and you’re feeling like a fly stuck in a web of lies.

Despite your conflicting feelings, you begin to get ready for your date, feeling genuine excitement. Even if it’s just as friends, Matt is really pleasant to be around.

Matt: Movie at 7:30?

You: Perfect, see you then.

The hours tick by as you prepare yourself to hang out with him. You hear a knock on your front door that makes you jump. “Dad, I'm going out!” You yell, rushing out to join Matt.

You weren’t expecting him to hug you when you stepped out. There was no one around to keep it up for, but you decided not to question it. “Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He grins, pulling away from you. “I didn’t buy tickets yet because I wanted you to choose the movie,”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, heart filled with gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it immediately made your middle school crush on him come back.

“I feel like you know a lot about me, so I thought you choosing the movie would help me learn something about you.” He said as you pulled into the movie theater parking lot.

“Yeah, I’ll pick.” You giggle at him, hopping out. When you walk in, you’re overwhelmed by the aggressive scent of buttered popcorn. Matt glanced around, beginning to guide you to the ticket counter. “Shit, that’s my ex.”

“It’s cool, play up the pda to make her more jealous,”

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans into you, pretending to whisper something in your ear. When you walk up to the counter, he unwraps his arm for a mere second to grab his wallet.

“Movie?” He asks. You tell him and he nods. “Two tickets please, he hands his ex his card.

“Hi, Matt.” She says, smiling at him. You immediately get possessive vibes that make you feel uncomfortable, but that means the plan is working. “Oh hey,” He smiles lightly, acting nonchalant.

“Who’s this?” You can literally feel the jealousy she's emitting, and it makes you shift in his grasp. “This is my girlfriend, the tickets?”

“Oh, sorry.” She hands him the tickets, making sure to brush his hand while she glared at you. As you walk towards the next counter to buy popcorn, you start laughing. “I don’t think she liked me much.”

“Good, means the plan is working.” He says, going to fish for his wallet again.

“Nuh-uh. My turn.”

“That’s not really how dates work, but nice try.”

It feels like the hours have crept away from you. The movie comes to an end, despite you willing it to last longer. Matt offers you a hand and pulls you up, making sure to hold your hand when you exit the theater. It almost makes your heart flutter; then you remember why he’s doing it.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” He says, offering you his jacket when you step into the brisk air. You smile, feeling fulfillment while you slide his jacket on. “I liked it, thanks for letting me choose. And, um, thanks for tonight. It was… interesting.”

“No problem,” he says, sounding relaxed. “I liked it too. We make a good fake couple, don’t we?”

You continue chatting while you walk to the car, and while he drops you off. Matt gets out to walk you up to your door, genuinely surprising you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He says, offering you another hug. You slide off his jacket and melt into him before handing it back. “Thanks, Matt.”

“See you tomorrow morning?”

You nod.

You close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the day settle into your skin. You’re beginning to ease into the fake relationship; even as the facade gets increasingly complex. You sink into your bed, shifting off to dreamland.

As the week goes on, your arrangement only gets better. You avoid your friend's boyfriend, and he starts getting desperate texts from his ex. By the end of the week, you’re sure he’s close to breaking it off.

When Matt drops you off at home on Friday afternoon, you’re insanely smiley. You feel on top of the world. The day seemed normal enough, for your new normal anyways, but there was an odd air of tension everywhere you went. You knew something was wrong when your best friend landed on your doorstep mere moments later.

She was your best friend for a reason- you trusted her with almost everything, so she didn’t understand why this week, you’d suddenly gone ghost. You normally talked every second of every hour if you could, but this week, your communication had been limited to fleeting glances across the cafeteria, or in the hallway.

You open your front door to find her standing there, eyes ablaze with anger. “Hey.. what’s up?” You say, prompting her to talk and cut through the thick silence.

“Where have you been all week?”

“At school..?”

“No, I mean, where have you been? You avoided me on Monday, and you started dating Matthew Sturniolo out of nowhere; I didn’t even know you were talking! I’ve barely seen you this week and normally we spend all our time together. Something isn’t right.”

You feel like you’re shrinking under her intense gaze. Stammering out an apology isn’t really working for her, or you, because the weight of your fabricated relationship with Matt pinned your tongue. “It’s not like that..”

“Don’t give me that!” She says, glaring at you. “We tell each other everything. Why are you shutting me out now?”

You wrack your brain for an excuse, trying to think of anything to get her off your back when you remember a conversation you’d had with her about Matt. “Look, I know I’ve been unfair to you… but I know you don’t like Matt, and I really do. I’ve been caught up with him, and I didn’t want to tangle you into it because I know you don’t like him.”

“He’s a dick.” She says to you, bluntly. “I don’t think you should be dating him, much less talking to him and ignoring me for him. Haven’t you heard the shit he’s pulled with other girls?”

“Of course I have but-”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not different. He’s going to leave you in the dust too.”

Her words cut through you, sharp and painful. The truth hovered on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of secrecy still held it down. You didn’t know how to get out of this one. “He’s not like that with me,” you attempt to defend, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “People change, you know?”

“You’re being naïve, and I hate seeing you like this. Ignoring your best friend for a guy who’s going to hurt you in the end.”

You’re feeling shackled, like you’re in the ocean trying to stay above the surface, but there’s a weight tied to your ankle.

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, voice shaking “but I know what I’m doing. We’re happy together. You say, a feigned smile gracing your lips. Her harsh glare softens. “I trust you. Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, acting like you’re relieved, but the pit in your stomach only deepens as the web of woven lies becomes more intricate. She leaves, and you close the door behind you, sinking down to the floor.

All of this because of some letters.

The sound of a message coming through your phone snaps you out of your contemplation. You glance at it, immediately smiling when you see Matt’s name pop up.

Matt: Hangout tomorrow? Nick and Chris r asking

You: Yeah, what time?

Matt: Noon?

You: I’ll be there

Matt: I’ll pick you up

You heart the message, standing from the floor. When you retire for the night, your friend's warning re-enters your mind. You know she’s right, but the reality of your fake dating thing with Matt tugs you back into its tangled web, as it always does.

Each text from Matt, while making you smile, feels like another string of deceit weaving into a thousand more. It just deepens as time goes on. The lure of his attention and the comfort of the familiarity you feel with him vie against the guilt that gnaws at your conscience.

You’ve realized the gravity of the situation, but the truth remains locked in, barricaded by fear and the entanglements you’ve created. You want to call it off, you’ve wanted to, but you don’t want to risk falling into a chasm of more confrontations- from both your friend, and her boyfriend.

You try to shove it out of your mind so you can sleep though, preparing for your day with Matt tomorrow.

-

When you wake up the next morning, you feel giddy. You put more effort into getting ready than you normally would on a Saturday. Then, there’s a knock on your door and a hug awaiting you. This time, you don’t question if people are around, you just accept it with a grin.

“Nick and Chris wanted to come get you,” He tells you, pulling you down the driveway. Yet again, the front seat is empty for you. The energy of the triplets was infectious, in the best way possible. You immediately found yourself comforted by their presence, the simplicity of just being around them had an inexplicable effect on your already good mood.

The drive feels effortless as you settle into conversation with the group. It reminds you of how uncomfortable you’d been mere days ago, and how much had changed. You kind of frown at the thought, but quickly catch it. Matt’s smile never faltered though, leaving you with an odd sense of melancholy when you’re reminded that it’s all fake.

You can’t help but be surprised by your surroundings when you enter the house. You knew the outside, obviously having known the address, but the inside exceeds all your expectations. Family pictures litter the walls, candles are everywhere. It’s cute.

“Your parents aren’t here, right?” You whisper. “Nope.”

“So, what should we do?” Chris speaks up, cutting through the silence. You shrug in response while Matt and Nick go into deep thought.

“We should bake!”

“Nope.” Matt says at the same time you say “Okay.”

When Matt hears you, he turns in your direction. Seeing your smile at the presented idea, he changes his mind. “Yeah, baking sounds good.”

Nick glances at him skeptically, the switch-up being unusual. When your eyes wander towards Chris, you notice his confusion too.

“Baking it is.” Nick mumbles, leading you to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we making?” Chris pipes in, pulling out various bowls. “Brownies?” Matt suggests, “I think we have a mix and I don’t wanna run to the store right now.”

“Wait, we’re awful at baking. Why are we baking?” Chris questions, wracking his brain to find the answer.

“It’ll be eventful,” Nick replies.

“If we mess shit up and it gets messy, I’m blaming it on you.”

Nick groans, going to grab the mix and the various ingredients listed on the box. “If you do that, I’m gonna tell mom about that time that you-”

“And that’s enough!” Matt cuts him off, grabbing eggs out of Nick’s hand. He ushers you further into the action of the kitchen, imploring you to get comfortable.

“You bake a lot?” He asks, smiling.

“Not really,” You admit, laughing at the commotion surrounding you. It’s fascinating to you how those around you have become such an integral part of your everyday life in the week you’d known them, despite only being in your circle for under a week.

You know your relationship with Matt is false- how could you not? You remind yourself constantly, but these new relationships you’d forged because of Matt? Some of the realest ones you’d ever experienced.

A crack snaps you out of your thoughts, followed by a millisecond of silence. “Chris!” Nick yells, looking at the fallen egg.

“How is this my fault?!” Matt finds himself laughing with you.

The brownies turn out so horribly burnt you’re not even sure if you can call them brownies anymore, and the mess is colossal, but even when Matt drops you off you only have good things to say about, and to, the group.

“Thank you,”

“Of course. I’ll pick you up on Monday?”

“See you then.” You say, waving to Nick and Chris.

The next couple weeks go by so smoothly, you almost forget you’re acting. They’re relatively the same as the first, save for more interactions with your friend. Being with Matt and his brothers, and even his friends, feels natural. Your weeks become more routine, and the plan is working. Matt’s ex is obviously getting more green as time goes on, and your friend's boyfriend won’t even spare you a passing glance.

By your one-month ‘anniversary’, you’re almost 100% sure you two are in the clear. You’re waiting at home for Matt to pick you up, excited to be with him, but feeling a pit on your stomach nonetheless. When you hear the now-familiar knock on your door, you can’t help but run to answer it.

“Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He smiles and reaches out to hug you, like normal, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes in the way it usually does. It’s missing its charm. He guides you to the car, sure to open the passenger door for you, but the gesture is missing its usual warmth. He takes you to this cute diner, one that you’ve mentioned in a passing conversation, but the earlier apprehension you felt only grows stronger.

When you sit down, you finally decide you can’t take it anymore. “Is something wrong, Matt?”

“Not wrong, really. My ex wants me back. She texted me the other night,”

“Oh,” Is all you can say, trying to force a smile to your face. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” He says. You’re not sure if you’re grasping at straws, but you feel like he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too. “Do you think you’re okay to break this off?”

“Uhm, yeah. I think my friend’s boyfriend is leaving me alone.” You nod at him, looking everywhere but his face. “Should we just go?”

He can’t argue with that, so instead of getting that cute little dinner date you were promised, you’re sitting back in Matt’s car in silence as he drives you home. The atmosphere felt heavy. You’re stopped at a red light when you finally glance over at him for the first time this entire ride back. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic you’d never noticed before, while his eyes are set on the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” He finally says, the second the light turns green.

“For what?” You reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“For coming up with this idea. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t be sorry, Matt. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. It wasn’t stupid; it did what we wanted it to do.”

He nodded, but your gaze lingered on him. You could see the mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling through his eyes. “At least it’s over, right? We manipulated the situation.” You say, trying to bring up the mood. You’re trying not to make something of nothing, but his mood seems just as melancholic as yours. “At least it’s over.”

When the car reaches your house, Matt can’t find it in himself to move, to walk you to your door. He hears your seatbelt click, signaling that you’re taking your leave.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Matt.”

When you exit the car, a bittersweet realization washes over Matt. This isn’t what he wanted. He grips the steering wheel, hurriedly putting his car into reverse. He can’t linger any longer, or he’ll make a rash decision and run back to you. He wanted his ex back, and now that’s what he’s getting.

The next day, you wake up with absolutely zero pep in your step. You drag yourself out of bed, drag yourself into your car, and drag yourself through the halls in the morning. The entire world seems more quiet without Matt next to you; your steps echo in your ears. You catch glimpses of familiar faces, but today, they seem almost alien. It makes you wish you’d never left your bed. By lunch, everybody knows something is wrong. Your spot by Matt’s side has been reclaimed by his ex girlfriend. You don’t miss the pitying looks his friends give you, especially Nick and Chris.

You never realized how humiliating it’d be when people saw that Matt left you for his ex.

You settle in your old spot, across from your best friend and her boyfriend, trying to make the whole thing feel natural. It doesn’t.

The whispers and glances you’re receiving from others feel like needles pricking at your already unsettled emotions, and your friend’s compassionate eyes don’t make you feel any more comfortable.

“Matt’s a jerk. I hate him.” She tells you, and it hurts your heart a bit.

“I don’t.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing on you. She winces at you defending him, but rebounds. There’s a strong desire to call him every name in the book, but resorts to saying “I can't believe he would do that to you.”

You want to tell her the truth, the lies of the situation having weighed heavy on your mind, but you know that’d defeat the purpose. You thought that when you’d ended the relationship, the entanglement of fibs you’d found yourself in would unravel, but you feel as though they’d only gotten more complicated. “You told me he would.” You say, pushing your school lunch around. She winces again.

“I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

When Matt stands next to his ex, who all his friends tell him is a catch, he can’t help but feel empty. His eyes wander away from his table, landing on you. Memories flood back, a mixture of genuine and orchestrated moments swirling within his mind. He’s completely dipped out of the conversation his friends are having, his grip on his new-old girlfriend's waist weakening as he thinks of you.

He catches the slightest glimpse of your eyes, one that you immediately divert; a mixture of confusion and hurt sprinkled within. A pant of guilt hits him, but he tries to forget about it as he turns back to the conversation presented to him.

“What’s gotten into you dude?” Someone asks. Matt shrugs, trying to stay involved. His eyes wander back to you, and then over to Chris, who mouths “Get her back.” at him.

He tries to pretend like he didn’t see that. He has what he wants, his girlfriend, and you have what you want, maybe.

He knows one thing: he doesn’t like the hole your absence has left in his daily routine.

The week comes and goes, Friday night rolling around and the pain of losing each other doesn’t go away. Matt’s battling himself internally to convince himself that both you and him are happier apart; he knows that’s not true. You’re fighting with yourself constantly to not spill your guts to someone, pressure that you had shared with him before the fake, but impossibly real split, weighing on you. It’s past midnight by the time your wandering mind calms enough for you to sleep.

At this point, Matt’s drafted up about 4 text messages to you, and none of them convey what he’s truly wanted to say. He called it off already with his ex-ex girlfriend. The moment she’d started badmouthing you in front his friends put a sour taste in his mouth; that, and he’d realized he was searching for you in every one of their interactions.

He’s restless, consumed by thoughts of longing for your presence. In the silence of the night, he’s grabbing his keys and heading. You think you’re imagining it when you’re awoken by the stall of an engine, but you’re forced to confront the taps on your window.

As you slowly approach the window, pulling back the curtain, you're confronted by Matt’s anxious gaze, illuminated by the faint, cool glow of the moonlight. You rush downstairs, barely stopping to slide a hoodie and some shoes on. The mix of emotions you feel are mirrored in his expression- a blend of nervousness, vulnerability, and longing. With the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm hug. He’s worried you won’t hear him out, desperate to express what he wanted to tell you in his unsent messages, but his desire to hold you far outweighs his uneasiness.

“I couldn’t keep lying to myself, and you.” He says, face buried in your neck. “I’ve been lost without you, and I can’t pretend I’m happier this way. I miss us, even if it wasn’t real.” His voice contains traces of sincerity, regret, and insecurity, but he feels a sense of strong relief take over at his admission. “I know it was fake- it started out fake- but I’m in love with you now.”

His honesty resonates as his eyebrows unfurrow, his entire body relaxing, and the weight that’s been dragging you to the bottom of the ocean is shed. Rather than sinking, you’re floating peacefully above the soft waves. You pull away from him, your anxieties dissipating like mist under the moonlight. The depth of his words stir an array of emotions within you: astonishment, relief, and a spark of hope. You search his calm eyes, being practically slapped in the face by his sincere and loving expression.

You can’t help but kiss him, seeing the way the moon puts an ethereal glow on his gestures. “I missed us too,” You start, in a soft voice. The air between you is finally cleared. “and I love you too.”

“Can we date, for real this time?” Matt blurts out, going to kiss you again. He feels intoxicated, your second-ever kiss not being a fraction of enough to sate his ever-growing hunger.

You might have started as a fraud, but somewhere along the way, when the tides shifted and your world changed, you emerged from your cocoon, into a glorious and charismatic butterfly.

“If you’ll have me as your girlfriend, for real this time.”

He kisses you again.

[fandomnsfw]

Pack Mom pt.2 - Derek Hale x Reader

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Prompt: Request! – Liam starts getting jealous when Isaac gets more attention than him, soon it becomes a competition between them that you decide to indulge in. (Also inspired by Woman – Honne.)

Warning: None! Just FLUFFFFF!

ENJOY!!

*****

“Isaac honey can you pass me the butter.” You muttered as you grabbed the bread from the cupboard.

“Okay Mama!” He smiled as he grabbed the butter from the fridge bouncing over to you as you grabbed a knife out the draw.

“Thank you baby.” You smiled at him softly ruffling his hair. You started buttering the bread placing different ingredients on each sandwich. Lydia and Erica had a BLT. Liam, Mason, Cory and Stiles had a PBJ and Derek, Isaac and Jackson all had plain cheese and ham. You had a peanut butter and Nutella fried, kind of like grilled cheese. When you were frying your sandwich you heard yelling start from the front room.

“No fair! It’s my turn!” Liam screeched.

“NO IT’S NOT!” Scott scoffed before you heard more shuffling.

“Ow don’t bite me!” Liam whined making you wince slightly.

“Actually I think it’s my turn.” Derek deadpanned as you heard more movement.

“Listen old man!” Jackson yelled angrily.

You switched off the hob before storming into the living room to see Scott, Liam, Jackson and Derek rolling around on the floor fighting over the Xbox controller. Your hand immediately went to your hips as you waited for them to notice you. Lydia was sat reading but she looked up to acknowledge you before going back to her book.

“DEREK!” You screamed eventually when you realized they weren’t going to notice you.

“Shit!” You heard him muttered before de-tangling himself from the boys.

“Scott get off your brothers!” You snapped as you tapped you bare foot against the floor. Once they were all stood in front of you, head down in an attempt not to test what patience you had left.

“Every time I start making food somehow you always seem to interrupt me by acting like morons!” You huffed angrily.

“The Xbox can go off now. Derek you can come pour me a glass of wine. Lord knows I need it. Scott you can finish the reading you have for school. Jackson how about you study for the maths test coming up. Ask Lydia for help if you need it. Liam you can come sit in the kitchen.” You ordered pointing at each one of them as you snapped your orders, Scott and Jackson groaned but did as they were told. You made you way back to the kitchen Liam following closely behind. You told him to sit at the breakfast bar while you got out the first aid kit. You wiped always the blood noticing the bite mark almost gone completely, which you were thankful for.

“Mama?” Liam murmured softly, a blush on his face.

“What baby?” You said as you threw the used antiseptic wipe in the bin.

“Can I have a hug?” He fiddle with the bottom of his shirt nervously as he waited for your response. You smiled but leaned over to hug him tightly. His head laying against your chest probably able to hear you heart beating. He hugged you back but the moment only lasted a few more seconds because you heard Isaac start talking.

“Mama I’m hungryyy.” He whined, a pout gracing his face. You pulled away from Liam and nodded before you went back to making food.

You glanced at Isaac and Liam as you went to turn the hob back on. You noticed that they were thoroughly glaring at each other which you thought was weird, shaking your head you chose the let it go.

After the pack has finished eating they went back to their houses, except Isaac who went upstairs to study, leaving you alone with Derek. You had college tomorrow but you didn’t feel like staying in your dorm with your overly happy roommate. You cuddled into Derek as he flipped through the films that were on the TV, his pick of film made you laugh. As much as he a Stiles bicker their love for Star Wars was always what had them chatting like they were best friends.

“I think you should move in with me.” Derek spoke after half an hour of silence through the film. You looked up at him shocked by the sudden statement, his eyes still glued on the TV like he felt embarrassed somehow.

“Oh really? Would you like to look at me and ask me instead of telling me?” You snorted, crossing your arms in playful anger.

“Y/N Y/L/N will you move in with me?” He huffed with false confidence as he gazed in your eyes.

“I would love to Derek. Now I need to sleep because I have class at 8. Night Der.” You muttered as you wandered up the stairs. You stopped at Isaac’s room to see him sprawled over his bed with his homework thrown everywhere which made you smile to yourself. You carefully moved the papers to his computer desk and threw his covers over him, brushing his curly hair away from his face. After making sure he was okay, you went to yours and Derek’s shared bedroom getting dressed into one on Derek’s tops before getting into bed.

*****

“Isaac breakfasts ready!” You screamed up the stairs as you checked the time once again. Isaac ran down stairs dressed and ready for school. He kissed your cheek before he sat down next to you digging into his breakfast.

“Thank you Mama.” He said with half of a piece of bacon hanging out his mouth.

“Isaac don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s rude.” You instructed your voice soft yet stern. He nodded and continued chewing his food before you realized it was already 7.30am. You got up and kissed Derek on the cheek, who was sat silently with a coffee in his hand. Isaac followed closely behind hoping into the passenger seat.

“I need to talk to Derek about getting you a car or a bike.” You muttered as the pulled away from the Hale house.

“I don’t need a car mama I’m fine.” Isaac whispered slowly like he was worried about how Derek would react.

“Yes you do and don’t argue with me. Derek will agree too. Everyone else has a way to get around so which would you prefer bike or car?”

“Mama I do-”

“I think a bike since you love riding with Scott.” You interrupted before he could reject the offer again. After that you and Isaac chose to stay quiet for the rest of the time in the car. When you arrived at Beacon Hills High School you got out the car to greet the pack which was making their way over to your car.

“Ma-Y/N shouldn’t you be at college?” Scott voiced as they stopped in front of you.

“I’m going after this. Derek said he would drop him off but it’s on my way so I thought I’d do it today. Plus I have some good news.” You stated before ruffling Liam’s hair which made him preen.

“I’m moving in full time with Derek.” You added after pulling your hand away from Liam.

“That’s awesome!!” Erica screeched making Stiles roll his eyes.

“Right I’ve gotta go. Liam be good everyone else looking after him and make sure you don’t fight. You know it may seem like play fighting to werewolves but to humans it looks brutal and I’m not dealing with another call from Natalie telling me you’ve earned yourself detention for 2 weeks!”

“Yes Mom.” They are voiced sarcastically.

*****

When everyone came over for dinner that night it wasn’t just the pack but also the parents, who had yet to find out about your new name. It happened when you were helping Melissa cook while the Sheriff, Chris and Derek sat around the breakfast bar chatting away.

“JACKSON GIVE IT BACK! MAMA!!!!” Stiles screamed as he chased Jackson into the kitchen. Everyone stopped to stare at you but you paid no mind.

“JACKSON! Put that down before I take away your new phone!” You yelled as you stirred the chicken pieces around the wok.

“What you didn’t buy that though!!” Jackson screamed angrily his foot stomping angrily.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You responded, your tone calm with a sickly sweet smile joining as you turned to look at him.

“I mean! I’m sorry Stiles here’s your comic book and I love you Mama!” He replied in a rushed way that made you smirk.

“That’s what I thought now, boy’s front room I don’t wanna tell you twice.” You added as you watched the boys bicker as they walked into the front room. You turned your attentions to the 3 sets or wide eyes staring at you, realizing what you had done you blushed and picked up your glass of wine.

“I think we should leave the kids here and go into early retirement.” Noah snorted making Derek go deathly pale.

“So your pack mom now?” Chris added nodding in agreement as he did, you nodded before going back to food. Once dinner was ready you all moved to the dining room to sit down but then just like every aspect of your life turned into another argument.

“But you always sit next to Mama I wanna sit next to her today!” Liam whined his bottom lip sticking out slightly.

“No it’s my seat pipsqueak.” Isaac mocked as he made his way to the seat.

“Isaac you can sit next to Melissa.” Your voice made no room for arguments with made everyone stop awkwardly.

“Bu-”

“Isaac.” Was all Derek said as everyone finally started to situate themselves.

During dinner everything was full of chatter and laughs except Isaac who sat there pushing his food around his plate aimlessly. You knew what was happening Isaac had been the baby of the pack for years until Liam came along. You could tell he was jealous and they were competing but you also knew that you loved everyone in this pack equally, well except Peter because he’s a maniac and Derek who is possibly the love of your life.

You knew Isaac felt left out but he had to learn you weren’t just his. After dinner you started cleaning up but Chris and Noah quickly took over saying that you and Melissa should rest, so you did. As soon as you sat down Liam began speaking to you.

“Mama would you like a drink?” He asked hopefully.

“I can rub your feet if you want?” Isaac tried to interrupt.

“I could put on your favorite film if you want.” Liam grit his teeth as he smiled, as if trying to control his anger.

“Boys just sit down.” You groaned before flopping onto Derek’s chest.

That night the entire pack stayed over, the big house full of giggles and teasing but what got you the most was every 5 minutes Liam and Isaac asked if you wanted anything or tried to get your attention. By the time it was midnight you had enough of the bickering so you told everyone to sit down and watch a film or they could go to their own rooms. Thankfully they listened.

“Mama would you like some popcorn?” Liam asked gently as the movie got to about half way through.

“Mama doesn’t like salted popcorn.” Isaac snickered making you pause the film and tell Erica to turn the light on.

“Right I’ve had enough of this competing! I am not a toy that you can fight over nor am I everyone’s favorite lamppost to piss up!” You screamed angrily as you threw the remote controller onto the couch.

“I love you all equally! You are all my baby’s in some way! If you had two babies would you love them differently?” You added, your arms crossing over your chest as you tried to maintain calm.

“No.” Isaac muttered, his cheeks glowing red.

“Well then don’t expect that from me! I love you all the exact same amount!” You huffed before hearing Derek re-enter the living room. Everyone was staring at you with sad eyes but you knew it was because they all felt bad.

After everyone had gone to bed you and Derek made your way up to your bed room changing into one of Derek’s tops before sliding into bed with a sigh. Derek got in without a word kissing you passionately which made you squeak in surprise. One he pulled back he smiled down at you lovingly his thumb tracing circles on your cheeks.

“Thank you for being the best Pack Mom ever.” He whispered gently, his hands making their way into your hair.

That’s night Derek made love to you over and over again his love pouring out over and over until you were overloaded with his feelings.

This man is the love of your life and he gave you everything you ever wanted.

A family.

Part 1 <- -> Part 3(fin)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi! Can I request MM! Raph with a fem s/o who is very opposite of him, like she's kind, dresses very girly, oblivious, kinds like opposites attract. Where one day, reader is getting flirted with but doesn't understand it, and Raph is js getting jealous/protective??

Don’t Flirt With My Girlfriend (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Of course you can! I’m thinking jock Raph with his girly yet a little nerdy girlfriend. I don’t know why, but I just find it cute❤️

Warnings: Raph being jealous, and reader being oblivious to unwanted flirting, but nothing too bad❤️

Whoever said that opposite attracts, had no idea how right their words were. When they first uttered those words, they would have had no idea that such a thing as you and Raphael would ever come to happen.

You and Raphael was the stereotypical high school love story. Well… except the fact that Raph was a mutant turtle and considered a hero in the city of New York City , but that is not very important. Raph was a jock, part of Eastman High’s wrestling team, currently testing his waters in the school's American Football team, having played a few successful games. And though he might be big and strong with a quick temper, he didn’t do too well in his studies, lacking behind for quite some time. But that was how he first met you - his opposite in so many ways.

You were sweet, calm and always so happy, yet drawing very little attention to yourself. Well, at least not by sound, but quite a few had their eyes on you. Often dressing in dresses with pretty floral prints in light colors, such as pink, baby blue, light green and soft light yellow and purple, you were the stereotypical girly girl. And not only that, but you were in the same math class as Raphael, which was how you finally got to talk to him, when your teacher asked you to become his tutor.

Becoming Raph’s math tutor meant that you and jock would spend much time together, both at your place and his. And as time passed and the two of you got to know each other, neither of you could help the crush that you were developing. However, it was during this time that Raph learned something very important about you - you were not good at reading his flirting. He could send you all sorts of looks, or say all kinds of sugary sweet things, but you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to do or say, which was a little frustrating to the young mutant. However, he decided to do his best and follow your tutoring, believing that was a way to get closer to you. When Raph later passed a math test, after you had helped him prepare, he decided to ask you out, and the rest was history.

You and Raph quickly became the couple of Eastman High that everybody knew of. No matter if it was wrestling or football, if Raph did good in his sports, he would make a show of running to you, where he would place a firm kiss to your lips, telling you how much he loved you, before running off to continue his game. That was enough to let the whole school know that you were together. That you were with Raph and that he was with you. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to understand that. Unless some poor soul hadn’t been there to see that. That is where Anker came into the picture.

Anker was an exchange student from one of the Scandinavian countries, having decided to study in the US for a year. That was how Anker found himself in the same English class as you, sitting just a few rows behind you. And it only took him a few days to develop a small crush on you, not knowing about your mutant turtle boyfriend of a jock. Which is why he decided to walk up to you after class, in the hopes of chatting you up.

As you stood by your open locker, getting a hold of the books you needed for your next class after the break, Anker came up by the locker beside you, resting against it as he began talking to you. You smiled a friendly smile to the exchange student, answering his questions as politely as possible, not noticing the way he kept eyeing you every other minute, or how people passing looked at him, as if he was crazy. If Raph saw this, he might as well count his days. But you were totally oblivious, believing that Anker was only trying to be friendly. An exchange student trying to make new friends.

“So”, Anker continued, changing the subject. “What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N)?”

“This weekend?”, you repeated deep in thought. “Well, this Saturday I’m spending time with my family, and Sunday I’ll be studying for Monday”.

“So you don’t have any plans on Friday?”, Anker asked, not noticing the mutant turtle whose eyes was piercing through him, as he walked up to the two of you at a fast pace, his gym bag almost falling off his shoulder. “Would you like to go to the cinema with me on Friday then?”

“No, sorry”, you answered, still not aware of your boyfriend as he was making his way to you. “I already got plans for Friday”.

“Plans?”, Anker asked in confusion. “With who?”

“Me!”, Raph spat at the exchange student, making the boy jump in fear. Not just by Raph’s sudden presence, but by his appearance. No one had told Anker that the mutant turtles were studying at Eastman High. Raph wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him, while staring daggers into Anker’s soul, his anger fuming underneath his skin. “I know what you’re trying to do, and you can quit it right now. Don’t flirt with my girlfriend, buster!”

Anker looked more than just a little unsure, before quickly making his exit, feeling Raph’s eyes burn the back of his neck all the way to the end of the hall, until he was out of sight.

“I’m sorry, Raph”, you finally said when Anker was gone, already feeling horrible. “I had no idea he was flirting with me”.

“It’s okay, babe”, Raph said, wrapping his other arm around you, hugging you tightly against him, feeling his plastron underneath his jersey. “It’s not your fault. You’ve never been good at recognizing flirting, so I don’t blame you at all. But if he tries on anything, I’ll punch his face so hard that he’ll-”.

“I don’t think that’s necessary”, you interrupted him, putting a soft hand against his cheek, feeling him lean against it. There was no doubt that having you in his life had helped Raph calm down immensely, having an easier time cooling down from his more temperamental periods. Just like now. The feeling of your warm hand against his face calming him down. “But thank you for looking out for me, Raph. Otherwise I might unknowingly have gotten myself into something dumb”.

“Anything for my girl”, Raph smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, causing you to smile like crazy. Even you were able to understand how sweet that gesture was and what that meant. “Are you still up for our date on Friday?”

“Of course I am”, you said, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. “I’ve been waiting ever since last Friday for another diner date”.

Raph chuckled at that statement, finding your enthusiasm adorable. “Gosh, you’re cute. Gimme a kiss, babe”.

You giggled, before standing on your toes as Raph leaned down, your lips meeting together in a sweet tender kiss before you pulled back, looking deep into each other’s eyes with bright smiles.

“Eating together at lunch?”, Raph asked.

“Of course we are”, you answered, kissing Raph one more time, before the two of you made your way towards math with your hands entwined.

[sunlightmurdock]

The Parent Trap | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Ex-Wife!Reader

♡ Prologue | Next Chapter | Masterlist

♡ In which, after a couple of years of listening to Peyton and Parker Bradshaw complain about their parents’ custody agreement, Grandpa Mav’s meddling goes a little bit too far.

♡ warnings: mentions of divorce throughout the fic, flashbacks to arguments and unhappily married people. Idiots who still love each other and don’t know it. (warnings will be added as story progresses).

…

“Alright! They’re here.” Maverick drops the curtain back into place and turns back towards his granddaughters. “Be cool.”

Peyton looks up, scrunches her nose just a fraction — she takes a moment to analyse what this might entail. Maverick sits back against the couch and opens his book up, picking a random page a couple of chapters in, settling into his position. Parker settles in equally easily, she drops down so that she’s sitting cross-crossed and immediately gets to work penciling in answers on her worksheet. Peyton inhales, then almost forgets to exhale, her mind racing as the sound of footsteps on the porch ring out over the top of Maverick’s soft soul album playing.

Finally, she drops down next to her sister and grabs a pencil.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen Mav,” You muse, breathing out softly as you follow Bradley up onto the porch. It’s been forever since you’ve even been here, you’ve only seen Maverick a handful of times since you divorced Rooster. He was always kind to you. “He might not even recognise me.” You joke.

Rooster almost scoffs. Recognise you? — He hardly ever shuts up about you. It’s a good thing, probably, that his friends and family are so fond of you. It means he picked a good person to share his life with. It just makes things even more difficult now that the two of you have decided to go your own ways.

“He’s not that old.” Rooster settles with instead, keeping things lighthearted as he turns the door handle and opens the front door. He steps in first and holds the door open behind him for you. Taking a few steps forwards, he has a good view into the living room on the left.

The girls are both sitting on the floor, working on some school work together. Peyton’s helping her sister with math. Maverick is reading a fictional romance novel. One of Penny’s. Peyton is way worse than Parker at math. Damn it.

Maverick glances up from his book and even through the suddenly blurred lenses of his reading glasses, he can see the disappointment on Rooster’s face. Busted. But, as far as Rooster knows, this just means that the three of them spent the afternoon having fun and watching TV. Which isn’t entirely incorrect.

“Hi, Mav.” You step around Rooster sheepishly and lift your hand, waving it at him. Rooster looks you up and down, brows scrunching slightly. This is the man who drove you to the hospital when you were in labour and Rooster was an hour away in traffic. The same one who held you whilst you sobbed at the thought of not being a good enough mother and told you it was all going to be okay. The first person that the two of you told you were expecting.

And here you are, acting like he has become a stranger.

There are lots of aspects of divorce that hurt more than Rooster was expecting them to. Those hour long gaps in his Sundays now that he doesn’t have to go and put gas in your car. Getting home from work on a night that the girls are with you and his home being empty.

Now, Rooster doesn’t have much of a family. It was just Mav for a little while, and then Penny and Amelia came along. But, then he had you — and the girls, and you were all a big family. Now, Maverick is someone that you can only awkwardly say hello to. No longer family.

“Hey, honey! How’ve you been?” The book is discarded and Maverick is pushing himself up off of the couch, arms opened and walking towards you. Your body unstiffens, exhaling quickly as you let him envelope you in a hug. It takes everything in you not to rush out a pained ‘oh my god, I thought you hated me’.

Your mind jumbles, searching for the right words as Maverick squeezes you. He’s greyer than the last time you saw him, he still smells like the same cologne he wore when you met him. That means Penny’s still unsuccessful in making him stop buying the same pine scented spray that he wore in the eighties.

“Good! I’m — busy, but I’m good.” You manage out. He pulls back to look at you, catching your arms like you’ll disappear again if he doesn’t ground you right here with him. He looks over your face fondly. Both of you a little bit older, probably none the wiser.

Pete grins and nods his head. “I’m glad, I’m so glad.”

Rooster looks between the two of you, then back at the kids looking up at them curiously. As he glances back to Maverick, he knows that it’s only a matter of time before the old man starts spouting off some crap about how the two of you would probably be happier together.

“Mav, could we have a second alone with the kids? — We still have to get them home before their bedtime and stuff.” Rooster reminds his uncle gentle. Maverick jumps to his senses and pulls back nodding.

“Oh, right. Of course. I’ll — I’m going to go and start making dinner for Penny. I’ll be in the kitchen.” As he turns, his back to the two of you, his eyes on the kids, Maverick gives them an overzealous wink. It’s up to them from here on out. Then, he leaves and heads for the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Bradley moves first. He walks calmly into the living room and sits down in front of the two of them. You follow suit. There’s a beat of silence, the four of you looking at each other.

Finally, you’re the first to speak. “First, your dad and I just wanted to say that we’re glad you two can talk to each other, and that you wanted to help out your sister. But you know that this was completely the wrong way to go about it. Right?”

“We know…” Peyton agrees dejectedly, guilt in her tone and her body language as she twirls her pencil between her fingers.

You do your best not to make it a lecture, knowing that they’ll just zone out if you drone on at them too much. They’re still little and long lectures can be draining on their developing minds. You do your best to engage, asking them questions, keeping them involved.

It’s clear that they know what they did was wrong. You’ve got a sneaking feeling that this probably won’t be the last time they do something like it, but for now it’s resolved either way.

They’re going to write an apology to their teachers for switching classes again. You and Rooster had been texting about this all afternoon, you’ve considered making them write an apology to William — but he’s kind of a little asshole and his mother is even worse.

You check your watch and it’s already a little after seven. Their bedtime is eight. Luckily, Mav gave them dinner, so all you have to do is get them home and into bed. Then, you can get started with the mountain of work that you have left to do tonight.

“Alright, go say goodnight to Grandpa Mav, we should get going.”

“Can I drive home with Dad?” Parker asks suddenly. A quick glance towards your ex-husband, clearly tired after the day, relaxed back against the couch. He moved a while ago, complaining that sitting on the floor was hurting his back. You shake your head quickly.

“No, not today. It’s out of his way, and you two need to get to bed soon.”

“I just wanted to talk to him about the stuff with Billy,” She turns those big brown eyes towards Rooster and looks up at him, guilt filled and sorrowful. “I feel bad for not telling you about it. Can we talk?”

You open your mouth to correct her. Rooster, already suckered, sits forwards and nods his head. “Yeah, Peanut. We can talk about it.”

“You don’t have to, I mean, it’s—“

“It’s alright, I can take them back with me and we’ll just meet you at your place.” Rooster decides, running his fingers through his auburn hair and sitting up, readying to stand.

For the millionth time that day, your children catch you off guard. Peyton looks up, scowling, completely serious as she shouts, “No, I want to go with Mom!”

Rooster glances across at you, then back at her. Ultimately, he shrugs — it has been a long day and the twins’ favourite parent switches up routinely, he has learned to just take it in his stride. “Alright, so we’ll take one each. Just me and you, Parks.”

You’re more skeptical of this behavior, and your daughters recognise it immediately. You squint as you look between the two of them, and their sweet little faces. They’re probably up to something, but like their dad, you’re exhausted and don’t have time to investigate.

“Okay. One each.” You agree with a tired shrug, pushing yourself up from the floor. The girls rush off to say their goodbyes to Maverick, Bradley thanks him for watching them, then you’re all bundling out to the cars. You pause at the realization that Rooster has his bronco.

He catches your scowl as you pass him one of the booster seats. “She’ll be fine, I’ll drive slow.”

“I can take her, it’s not a problem.” You shake your head at the thought of her climbing up into that almost fifty year old, mostly metal, box. Rooster has always defended that truck to you, insisting that it’s safe. Still, you had made him buy something safer for when he has the kids. Their booster seats are still in the backseat of the fourth gen dodge Ram on his driveway, he never takes them in this.

“I’m going with Dad.” Parker insists. You both turn, looking up to find her already climbing on the side of the truck, having lifted herself up onto the step, now struggling to get the door open.

“We’ll see you at your place.” Rooster nods. With that, he turns away from you and wraps and arm around Parker’s middle, scooping her off of the side of his truck and opening the door with her under one arm.

You swallow softly and slide into the driver’s side of your car. Before you’ve even turned the key in the ignition, Peyton pipes up from behind you. “Was it weird being at Grandpa Mav’s house? — Did you guys used to be friends?”

“Alright, you buckled in?” Rooster looks up and checks his rear view mirror, finding his daughter’s smiling face looking back at him. He misses seeing those faces every day. She nods calmly and tugs at the seatbelt to prove it. Rooster nods, turning the radio down a little so that he’ll be able to hear her. The soft top cover will help, since the wind won’t be in their ears.

“Did you see that Mommy got her hair cut? — I like it like that, it’s pretty.” Parker comments, dragging her backpack across the seat towards her and starting to rifle through it as Bradley pulls away from the curb. He glances up at her through the mirror, brows scrunching just slightly, lips quirked.

“I thought we were going to talk about this Billy kid.” He reminds her.

“We are,” She shrugs her shoulders and pulls her notebook from the backpack, along with a blue pencil. “I’m just saying, Mommy looked really pretty today, don’t you think?”

“Your Mom always looks pretty. Just like you, Peanut.” At first glance, it’s a nice thing to say. But, it’s what he always says. With the two of them sharing so many of your features, he’d never dream of saying anything bad about the way you look. Not that he has anything bad to say anyway. Still, Parker is looking for something a little better than that.

She stares at him, squinting for a moment, then persists. “Yeah. But don’t you think she looks especially pretty now?”

Rooster glances up again, lips quirking more, brows scrunching in amused confusion at the serious expression on her face. “Yeah, I guess. — What’s this about?”

“I’m just asking. Don’t you think about Mom when you aren’t with her?” Parker frowns, folding her arms over her chest. Rooster pulls to a stop at a red light and looks back at his daughter, baffled. He always knew that getting a divorce was going to bring up some questions from the kids, he just wasn’t expecting this level of interrogation today.

He gives a small shrug. “Yeah, I think about you guys all the time. Y’know, how you’re doing, if you’re safe—“

“No, not us. Mommy.” Parker interrupts. Rooster glances back again, finding her staring back at him with her pencil resting on the page, her expression impatient. He pulls away from the now green light and shifts in his seat, completely confused.

“Um… yeah, I guess I think about her when we aren’t together. Parks, where’s all this coming from?” He frowns.

“Nowhere. So, anyway… Billy.” She tosses the notebook to the side and rests her hands in her lap.

Peyton twirls a curl around her finger, bopping her head to the lyrics of a song from the noughties. “I just think it’s cool that Daddy gets to fly planes. Did you think it was cool when you met him?”

When you met Rooster, you were still a bartender, working part time in a local boutique. You worked for Penny back then. You were somewhat young, especially impressionable — and he was perfect. Tanned skin, sunglasses and sea-salt tangled curls, asking you how your weekend was going every week.

Listening to your stories, asking you out, telling you about his adventures. It was all so quick in the beginning and yes, he was so cool.

“He was alright.” You answer back, glancing up into the rear view mirror with a soft smile toying at your lips. Peyton grins, she knows what that means.

She’s heard this story a million times and yet she asks again, “What was your first date like?”

Things with Rooster had never been exactly traditional. You’d already slept with him a couple of times before he finally murmured into your skin that he wanted to take you out for real, that he needed to know more about you.

But, that aspect obviously remains between just you and Rooster. You tell your kids about the date by the beach, him trying to impress you with somewhat of a picnic. Pushing him over in the water, him carrying you back to the car when you cut your foot on a rock by the shore.

He was so attentive in the beginning.

By the time you’re pulling onto the driveway, you check the rear view mirror and Peyton’s got her head leaned against the car door, lips parted, dead asleep. You smile softly, shaking your head as you unbuckle yourself and let yourself out.

Rooster pulls up as you close the door behind you. He turns off the ignition and hops down from the truck, standing under the glow of a streetlight.

“Parker’s asleep, I’ll carry her in.” He calls to you, already walking around to grab her door. You shake your head fondly as you turn back towards your car.

“Peyton too.” You chuckle.

Rooster unbuckles his daughter and lifts her into one of his arms, grabbing her backpack from the backseat with the other. He tucks her in against his side, her head lulling onto his shoulder, not stirring from her sleep in the slightest.

You groan as you hoist Peyton up onto your hip, struggling to balance her and shut the car door at the same time. It tugs at your heart strings as you realise out loud, “They’re going to be too big for us to do this soon.”

Rooster chuckles and steps around you to shut the car door for you. He makes it look so easy. “No, they’re going to be too big for you to do this soon. I’ve got a couple more years.”

You hug her closer to you, struggling to keep her tight against you, wondering when she got so big as you fumble for your keys in the tight back pocket of your shorts.

“I’ve got it.” Nudging your wrist out of the way, Rooster dips his hand into your back pocket and takes the keys. It’s a quick interaction, probably not him trying to cop a feel — it’s too fleeting for that, but it leaves you stunned nonetheless. He works the door open and glances back to check that you’re coming, still balancing your daughter with ease as he sets the keys on the end table inside.

Realising quickly that you must look like an idiot just standing there and staring at him, your feet carry you forwards and you kick the door shut behind you. He carries Parker up the stairs ahead of you. It hasn’t been that long since he lived here, it looks kind of different — the pictures on the stairway wall are different, but not unfamiliar.

He rounds the corner and pushes the door to their room open. Now, this is different. White walls dotted with little painted blue flowers, big-girl beds. Long gone is the nursery and toddler furniture that the two of you had filled this room with. It makes sense, their room at his place isn’t that different from this one, but still, he wonders why you didn’t ask him to help.

He sets Parker down on the bed closest to the door, slipping her shoes off of her feet and dropping them down to the floor beside her bedside table. The room would be bigger if they had bunk beds, but after last summer’s top bunk fight, you had forever abandoned that idea.

“I’ll go switch the car seats back over, if you wanna get them ready for bed.” Rooster says gently as you walk past him to set Peyton down in her own bed. You lift your head and nod gratefully at him across the dark room. Leaning forwards, you flick the switch for Peyton’s nightlight, it’s soft white glow illuminating the room enough for you to see the smile on his face.

“Thanks. Could you come back in afterwards? — I wanted to talk to you about something.” You’re busy unlacing Peyton’s tennis shoe and so you don’t notice the elated smile that’s on her face as she feigns unconsciousness. Rooster nods calmly.

“Sure. I’ll wait downstairs.”

Getting them both into their pyjamas, tucking them safely under their covers and slipping their respective stuffed animals in with them, kissing them both goodnight, it’s all part of the usual routine. Rooster’s leaning against the kitchen counter when you return back downstairs, arms folded over his chest as he frowns at the sink.

Slowly, you come to a stop a little bit away from him, unsure of how to say what comes next. You inhale, fiddling with your hands in front of you. He isn’t even looking at you, it’s like he knows already.

“Does it always drip like that?” He asks, pushing himself up and crossing the room to inspect the faucet. Your lips part, brows furrowing slightly. You hadn’t even noticed. He cranes his neck to get a better look. “You should’ve said, I can fix it this weekend or something, if you’re around.”

“Um… I actually wanted to see if you were free this weekend.” You explain calmly. Parker’s mouth gapes open as she and her sister huddle together at the bottom of the stairs, trying to listen to the soft conversation happening a room away. Rooster glances at you over his shoulder, just as taken back by the idea as his kids are. “There’s someone that I want you to meet.”

Rooster turns around to face you, leaning back against the counter and resting his hands on the wooden countertop. “Me? — Who would you want - Oh. You’re seeing someone?”

Realisation covers his face; it’s neither a good or bad reaction, and after years of knowing him as intimately as you do - did - you wish you could tell. You try to act as natural as he does about it.

“Well, I’ve been on a few dates with someone,” You explain gently. It’s a sensitive topic, telling your ex that you’re trying to move on. You’re not naive, you know that Rooster has hooked up with people since the divorce, you have too. But it’s different now, it’s bigger. “I really like him, and I’m thinking of introducing him to the girls. But I want you to meet him first.”

Parker slaps a hand over her sister’s mouth to contain the gasp, both of them ducking behind the railing by the stairs, like they won’t be seen through the gaps. They exchange looks, a thousand thoughts at once, plans being drawn up internally already.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, bar the sound of the faucet dripping behind him. His eyes, a dark hickory, search over your features. It’s unclear exactly what answer he’s searching for in your expression, but it doesn’t take him long to find it.

“Alright,” He nods his head. He signed those divorce papers just like you did. He was there for the custody hearing, the division of assets, explaining it to the kids. Rooster’s been present and aware of what this divorce means every step of the way. It’s been two years of pretty much radio silence. Neither one of you have exactly hidden the little flings you’ve had in the meantime, but you’ve kept that from the kids and you haven’t made a point of telling each other either.

Rooster’s trusted your judgment for as long as he has known you. If you think you’ve found someone worth introducing to the kids, then he should be happy. It wouldn’t be fair to hold you back.

He gives another curt nod, “That’s… it’s great. Congratulations.”

Your racing heart settles just slightly at his approval. Its pace slows but the pounding remains the same as you slowly raise your eyebrows at him. “So, this weekend?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m free.” He agrees, nodding his head slowly. He taps his fingers on the countertops and glances around the home that the two of you had bought together just under a decade ago, silently wondering if your new boyfriend has been over.

It’s nothing to be upset about, the divorce was for the best, you both agreed that there shouldn’t be any hard feelings about it — these things happen. But, still.

“So, what’s he like?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet. “Um… well, he’s a carpenter, and he owns a DIY place down the street from my store. His name’s Chris, he’s about our age. He’s nice, I think you two would get along.”

Not a convict, not too old or too young for you, owns his own business. Rooster can’t find much to complain about. Peyton’s brows furrow as she waits for her dad to fix this, to tell you to stop seeing that guy and be with him instead. Rooster’s face softens as he nods his head again.

“He sounds great,” He decides finally, his voice gentle as he takes a step towards you and opens his arms. “I’m really happy for you.”

You exhale deeply, relieved as he wraps you in a loose hug, every fibre of the interaction platonic. Just as quickly as you’re tucked in his strong, warm arms, he lets you go again.

“Text me a time and a place, the three of us can do something this weekend,” Rooster brushes some loose curls back off of his forehead and squeezes your arm as he steps past. Parker sighs, leaning her head back, crushed. He’s doing it all wrong. “And… um, thanks for keeping me in the loop about all this. I really appreciate it.”

Your lips quirk up into a soft smile as you nod at him. His footsteps grow closer, reminding the girls that they’re supposed to be in bed. It’s a quiet scramble, trying not to trip over each other as they race back to their bedroom.

…

@fadingbelieverexpert @jessirosebud @cowboybarbie @pinkpantheris @thedroneranger @a-serene-place-to-be @xoxabs88xox @unordinare

[aplarently]

Meeting Ramattra

// Literally put a nonbiological being in front of me and I am RAVENOUS. 

# I love everything about this new hero already. I am the MOST hype. I have seen that others are going off about him as well. Couldn’t help myself. 

   Realistically, omnics aren’t very different from humans at all. We both ponder our own existence and share free will, clearly. We also similarly might be faithful to a creator or divine entity of some kind. (Ugh, I have been so existential lately so don’t get me started.) Like others here, I find Ramattra fascinating because of this sort of antagonistic ideology that all humans are horrible and nothing good could come of working with them. Which is fair. 

Have you seen the state of the world?

   Ramattra is rough around the edges, for sure. I don’t believe you can just fix a person who has experienced potential trauma and I’m not a fan of that way of thinking. However, I do think that time and some nurturing can soothe the hurt in others. 

(S/N): This took me a while. I was scraping up all the info I could before going in. IT IS MIDNIGHT WHAT. I cannot proof read this right now. Forgive me.

   Being on opposite sides is a good place to start. Surrounding yourself with beings that hold different world views is insightful and important to building strong relationships. No one is going to agree on everything and that isn’t always so bad as it can bring people closer in a strange way. 

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- You work as a behind-the-scenes operative at Overwatch; mostly as a radar systems engineer. Simply put, you check for any interference whether that be from above, below, or all around the surrounding base.

- Sojourn decided she liked you enough to put you to work in the east to work under some notable tech specialists.

- Despite that, a lot of this job involved a lot of late, dull nights by your lonesome staring at your monitors and just making sure nothing peculiar was happening on point. Of course the pay was phenomenal but your career really made you question what all the math was about in order to put yourself in this dimly lit cell of an operating room, twiddling your thumbs.

- One night on the job, you find yourself drifting off when suddenly you get a notification from your radar systems and jolt forward to confront an odd reading. There’s a feint red dot signaling an unknown entity in the surrounding area.

- This wasn’t that surprising as you would occasionally encounter one small dot and it would end up being an airdrop for supplies or something nonthreatening. However, that was in the early day usually and you would have your other coworkers with you to handle it as you were technically still a newbie on base.

- So to be honest, you’ve never actually gotten to this point in the job before and didn’t know how to handle this situation professionally. “Well.. fuck,” you mutter to yourself and decide that you should investigate regardless.

- Grabbing your jacket, you put on your ‘I know what I’m doing face’ and hop out of the operation deck to see what this potential intruder wants.

- This base in particular is a bit odd in it’s placement. It is a bit out in the middle of nowhere in Europe where it is typically raining which normally makes the radar quite hard to catch correctly anyway. 

- You secretly hope that that’s the problem this time.

- Upon exiting the base, the doors seal behind you and you pull out your handheld monitor from your jacket where it had been waiting before. With a few clicks, your small radar starts scanning the area as best it can in this windy atmosphere.

- You pull your hood up and pull out your flashlight to light your way through the darkness. Pressing forward, you squint to protect your eyes from the raindrops that threaten to impact them. 

- In the distance you see a low red glow where your radar is navigating towards and decide that this must be the interference. You raise your flashlight in the direction of the glow. 

- “Hello?” you try to project but the combination of the cold wind and pure nervousness made it difficult to do so. Your throat felt dry. “State your name,” you hear in response as you finally come face to face with an omnic kneeling on the ground. 

- You are taken aback first by how firm he was in speech but quickly realize there is another metal form lying lifeless before him. Disregarding his request from before, your initial feelings of fear turn to concern and it is evident in your tone “,What happened here?”

- He collects the body from the Earth and turns away from you in silence but doesn’t walk away. 

- “Unless this was your doing, this matter does not concern you, human.”

- He remains still as if expecting a confession or otherwise. You get a hint of an accusing tone in his statement and feel the desire to get defensive. 

- “I can assure you that I had no hand in this. I’m an engineer at Overwatch; I’m just trying to assist anywhere that I can,” you say as you put your device back into your pocket. You feel your stomach drop when you realize that you mentioned Overwatch at all. They didn’t exactly have the best reputation right now so it’s not a great idea to go throwing that around.

- You may have just signed your death warrant.

- He scoffs “, I’m not at all surprised at that. Of all the people to go around playing hero for the public, Overwatch holds the worst of them.”

- Trying to divert the conversation back to the matter at hand you shake your head “,I-I’m sorry, I really am just here to help. What are you doing with the body?” He holds pause for a moment. You notice his shoulders fall a bit as he sighs. “I’m collecting them to properly lay them to rest as well as all the others that your kind mercilessly slaughters,” he finishes as he starts to walk ahead.

- You feel your heart pang with a guilt as your expression grows softer. “I know this isn’t much but I know a peaceful, nice area we could bury them,” you say, half expecting him to just keep walking off in annoyance.

- He stops and pauses again but this time he hesitantly turns to you. It is hard to navigate at this hour and in this weather as it is. He hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead it seemed.

- “I... okay,” he finally says.

- You smile gently as he turns to follow your lead. “It’s (y/n), by the way,” you turn back towards him as you guide the two.

- “Ramattra,” he responds, but it sounds familiar to you. He spoke one last time and you almost barely heard it “,Thank you.” 

- The two of you continued to march on in silence.