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lordprettyflackotara · 3 months

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affection || sam golbach

smut 18+, minors dni

part two is here

the finale is here

Sam Golbach knew you were a bad idea. He knew it from the moment Colby drunkenly brought you home on his arm.

Sam had hoped you would be a one night stand for Colby, something that was common for his best friend.

But you weren’t.

You and Colby were stuck like glue, and Sam never had a moment of peace once you joined their lives.

It always amazed him that you were able to keep up with their fast paced lives, always making time in your own business schedule for their adventures.

Whether it was flying to Boston or going to Waffle House at one am, you never minded going.

And Sam grew to resent that.

Even when he was with Kat, she was often more hesitant. Sam knew no matter how much he adored Kat, she wanted to settle down.

No matter how much in denial Sam was, he just wasn’t ready for that.

Yet you, his best friends girlfriend, were more than Sam could’ve ever hoped for.

But you just weren’t his.

It took a year or so before Colby got bored. Sam watched it happen, ever so slowly. The way his gaze shifted to the waitresses at the restaurants they went to. Or the way he watched him slyly respond to other girls instagram dms. Sam was convinced he noticed Colby’s shift in behavior sooner than you did.

Then the fighting started. You two rarely ever fought, and Sam could hear every last word.

You had a hard time handling your emotions, admittedly feeling insane as Colby denied your allegations. But you noticed it all. The way his hand left yours quicker. The way he hid his phone more. Your sex life declining.

You often found yourself envying Sam and Kat, who seemed to have the perfect relationship to you. She was excited to ghost hunt with the boys. You knew she wanted Sam to settle down quicker and you applauded her tolerance to his hesitation. You overheard her moans overpowering the sound of the shower her and Sam were sharing one time, heat of embarrassment washing over you.

Yet, you found yourself envying her position. At that point Colby barely touched you anymore, constantly on his phone. You wished you were in her place, Sam abusing your cervix as you begged for more.

Sam and Kat broke up first. Sam knew it was coming, like the smell of rain settling into the air. It was a messy breakup, the two of them having a very public relationship. You weren’t a content creator, and even as Sam tried to dry his puffy eyes, he wished Kat weren’t either. It would’ve made things so much more simplistic if she had been just like you.

Colby was almost entirely absent from your life once Sam and Kat broke up. You found yourself resenting Sam and yearning for his attention more and more as time went on.

His absence resulted in your break up. Thats what Colby would contribute it to, anyways. You’d debate he lost interest in you. As you packed your suitcases, Sam watching you from a far. He envied the way you maintained a poker face. You weren’t a babbling, incoherent mess. Instead, you stood poised and unbothered. Colby was talking to you about items you both possessed. If Sam couldn’t hear him, he would’ve never guessed. Your face sat still and unnerved, as if Colby was discussing the weather.

It was storming when you packed up your car and left. You had never officially moved in, unlike Kat. Another thing Sam envied. You slammed the trunk of your car down, fat raindrops embedding themselves onto your clothes and skin. Sam sat perched beside his window, watching you curiously.

Even in the security of being alone, you hadn’t cried a single tear. You felt Sam’s gaze on you, your eyes curiously meeting his. You weren’t sure why he was watching you, your hair becoming soaking wet from the unrelenting weather. In a simple, yet bold move, you waved. Sam, hesitantly, waved back.

If Sam had known that would’ve triggered the following events for the next six months, he would’ve slammed the curtains shut.

You were nervous to text him first, your brain racking itself to figure out a logical reason to reach out to your ex’s best friend. After all, you only had his number to previously communicate about Colby. Yet now, you were searching for reasons to see his best friend.

Asking Sam to deliver an old hoodie you didn’t want was all it took. Sam was more than happy to deliver it, conveniently forgetting to mention it to Colby. It resulted in a long entanglement neither of you could shake.

Sam never fully recovered from his break up with Kat, just like you never fully recovered from your break up with Colby. Sam wished Kat had been like you, just like you prayed Colby would act more like Sam. You found yourself craving each other’s attention, satisfying the sick parts of yourself that desired affection. Even if that affection was twisted and wrong.

It made your skin crawl when you thought about how badly it would hurt Colby if he ever found out.

Sam couldn’t stand to think about it.

But guilt took a backseat when it came to your infatuation with one another.

It didn’t take long for feelings to develop, your mind becoming more occupied of Sam’s well being rather than his cock fucking your brains out. Sam came by on random evenings, whenever he wasn’t restricted by work. And lucky for you, tonight was one of those nights.

Sam opened your front door, the key to your place having grown well adjusted to his key ring. You were ready to greet him, staring up at him as he walked inside. He closed the door behind him, his hands finding your waist with ease.

“Took you long enough,” You teased, noting his tardiness. Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a small chuckle. “We found some great evidence, just so you know,” He debated, nuzzling his face closer to yours. You giggled, Sam pressing your back against the closest wall. Neither of you needed to look, this meeting practically routine. “Did you mention to the ghost they were cock blocking you?” You whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

Sam was so close to kissing you, the tension growing thicker with every passing second. “No, I was too occupied imagining destroying your cunt to think of that,” Sam mumbled. His veiny hands snaked down to your ass, grabbing the flesh harshly. A soft groan escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing red. “Yeah? You’re such an asshole you know. Fantasizing about your best friend’s ex girlfriend right in front of him,” You whispered.

Sam brought his lips harshly to yours, knocking the air out of your lungs. Nothing about his touch was ever gentle, his neediness trumpeting over worry of your wellbeing. A safe word was something developed in the beginning stages of your affair. Sam also knew your body like the back of your hand, he knew what you could handle. Your arms snaked their way around his neck, your lips fighting against his. “If I had it my way, i’d fuck you right in front of him too,” Sam growled, his lips refusing to stray from yours.

Your hips involuntarily bucked forward, his bulge growing faster by the second. Sam smirked, his hand slithering its way around your body. He cupped your heat, your thin shorts and panties restricting him from complete access to your cunt. “You like that idea, don’t you? Me ruining you better than he ever could,” Sam groaned, pressing against your clothed cunt. You craved more friction, your body craving him. You pulled away from his hungry lips, nuzzling yourself in his neck as he pulled your shorts and panties down in a single swipe.

“If it were up to me-” You swallowed hard, feeling his index and middle finger run up and down your drenched folds. Your mouth ran dry as a moan escaped you, his fingers teasing your entrance. “I’d have you breed me right in front of him, and maybe have him lick your cum as it drips out of me,” You moaned, gasping as Sam’s fingers abruptly shoved their way inside of you.

You always made Sam feel like a horny teenage boy, the way your walls squeezed him. Making him feel like he could cream in his pants at any moment. Sam’s spare hand slipped its way up to your throat, squeezing your sweet spots. “You filthy slut, I’d kill him if he ever touched you again. This sweet cunt is mine,” He said, curling his fingers inside of you. You gripped his veiny arm as he squeezed your throat, your moans becoming strangled and uncontrolled.

Sam liked having this dominance over you, watching you crumble as your brain slowly shut off. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Sam’s long fingers abusing your pussy. “Such a pretty girl. Go ahead and cream on my fingers like the good girl you are,” Sam praised. Your eyes met his, the eye contact only making you squeeze him tighter. Your legs trembled as the familiar wave of ecstasy clouded your senses, Sam’s strong hands keeping you from collapsing onto the floor. Your knees had buckled, Sam’s hand leaving your throat and your cunt.

You quietly whined at the loss of contact, your walls clenching around nothing. The moment your vision settled, your hands were on his belt. You wanted to taste him, to feel him abuse your throat. Sam stopped you, sliding his hoodie over his head. “Not this time, wanna feel you,” He mumbled, his needy nature shining through his desire to dominate you.

His neediness reminded you why you both started this entanglement to begin with. It wasn’t just the attraction, that wasn’t enough to cross all moral boundaries. It was the craving for raw affection, the kind that made your heart warm. The kind you day dream about, feeling his skin on yours.

You tossed off your own skimpy pajama top, pushing him towards the couch. His hands briefly abandoned you, your lips working against his as he undressed himself. Sam plopped on the couch, and you quickly followed after him. You straddled his lap, his shaft rubbing up and down against your folds. You groaned at the sensation as his tip brushed against your clit.

“I’m going to fuck you so stupid,” Sam muttered, reaching down to align himself. You lifted yourself on your knees, Sam’s gaze landing on your perky breast. He was a tits man more than anything, his attention now occupied. He leaned forward, taking your right breast into his mouth. Sam knew you liked to be overstimulated, his lips harshly sucking at your nipple. You moaned loudly as you sank down onto his cock, his mouth maintaining its place on your nipple.

Your fingers raked through his blonde hair, his cock stretching out your walls as his teeth grazed your nipple. “Fuck, Sammy,” You moaned, your head thrown back in euphoria. The affectionate nick name brought something out of him, something that wanted him to make you his. The blonde released your breast with a pop, a visible ring of saliva around your sensitive bud. Sam leaned forward, breaking you into a sweet kiss, briefly causing you to forget how rough he could actually be.

You were soon reminded, his hips bucking upwards. “Stay there and look pretty, let me ruin you,” Sam growled. His hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging so deeply into your flesh you were sure he would leave bruises. As sick and twisted as it was, you both got off on the idea of being better than each other’s exs. You’d never mention Kat to Sam, but he knew. Sam, however, relished in mentioning Colby to you. How much better he was than him. How much better he could fuck you. He never hesitated to remind you that he made you cum in ways Colby never knew how to.

Your moans were sounds of pure sin, ringing off of your living room walls. You knew your neighbors would be pissed, but keeping quiet was not something Sam enjoyed. Sam’s thrust were merciless, his own softer groans flooding your ears. That, and the sound of slapping skin, blinding your senses from the outside world. His cock abused your g spot, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Colby could never fuck you like this, could he?” Sam spat, attempting to regain some of your clouded attention.

You swallowed, trying to formulate a proper response.

“N-n-no. Only you Sam,” You panted, his brutal pacing never letting up. Sam smirked as you struggled to think, enjoying watching your brain melt for him. “You’re so fucked out and we’ve barely started,” Sam commented cockily. He would never admit it, but he could cum at any moment. Your body was a drug, the purest form of ecstasy he could have.

And you were all his.

His hips continued to slam into yours, destroying your cunt. “You feel so good,” You slurred, your nails leaving thin red marks into Sam’s pale shoulders. One of his hands abandoned your waist, snaking its way down to your clit. Your back arched as he began to draw slow circles around the bud, the extra stimulation bringing you closer to your peak. “So do you baby,” Sam grunted in response, his cheeks flushing pink as he fucked you.

As much as Sam loved to fuck you senseless and watch his seed drip out of your abused hole, he dreaded it at the same time. The same three words always threatened to leave his lips when he came, both of your bodies attached to the other. Those three words, would ruin the arrangement. Sam knew this. He knew this as your eyes rolled back in your head, your moans unholy music to his ears. The knot in your stomach was threatening to snap, your legs shaking as Sam held you up. You could tell Sam was coming close as well, his thrust becoming sloppy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl. My good girl,” Sam emphasized, his hips stuttering. He groaned your name as he came, his warm cum filling up your abused cunt. You whined as his fingers continued to circle quickly around your clit, Sam’s attention returning completely on you. He hadn’t even finished riding out his high, his hand wrapping itself around your throat.

“Cmon whore, be a good slut for me,” Sam grunted. His cock remained inside of you, still at half mass. He bucked his hips slowly, pushing his cum deeper into your pussy. “You like that don’t you? My cum seeping deeper inside of you,” Sam smirked, not failing to notice your walls squeezing him. Sam brought himself closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “You like the idea that it’s me breeding you, don’t you? The idea that Colby would see you pregnant with my child,” Sam purred. You babbled a hardly coherent yes, your orgasm rushing upon you quickly.

“Go on then, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” Sam whispered. His dirty words were all it took, your thighs shaking as you creamed around his cock. You felt so filthy, getting off on Sam’s degrading words and relentless assault on your clit. You leaned forward, nuzzling your head against his abused shoulder. You closed your eyes, ignoring the red nail marks you had left on him moments ago.

The sound of both of your deep breathing was all you focused on, Sams long arms wrapping around you. It was also in moments like this, with you fucked out of your mind, that Sam wished he could say those dreaded three words to you. You were so vulnerable like this. So soft and sweet. With his cock growing soft inside of you, and the mixture of both of your guys cum leaking out of you, he wished things were different.

As much as he loved his best friend, he often day dreamed of the perfect world in these moments. One where maybe Colby didn’t exist, or Sam had gotten to you first. Sam stroked your back lovingly, taking in all of the affection he would soon be deprived of. Sam heard his phone buzz, the sound louder than it usually was. He could see Colby’s name light up on the screen.

Colby:

hey man where are you? we gotta edit this new video

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to leave you.

Not now, not ever.

But as he watched Colby’s name pop up on the caller ID, his ringtone reminded him why he could never say those three dreaded words.

Not now, not ever.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #colby brock #colby brock smut #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach x you #sam golbach x colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you

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mrsmandalorian · 8 days

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burning love

-- angst one shot jackson!joel miller x f! reader

summary: a secret affair goes a little too far.

main masterlist / word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, outbreak!AU, CHEATING, spoilers to TLOU season 2, age-gap relationship, angst!, smut!!!, p in v, fingering, nipple play, sexual teasing, a lot of making out, use of words like pussy, cock, pet names ( baby, baby girl, angel), language, burning building, intense near-death situation.

a/n: howdy loves! this story comes from many places of inspiration from the new season 2 picture to the many fics and tiktoks of the voice memos from "calls" of pedro. i hope you guys all enjoy it! leave me a like, comment, or reblog to show your love. much love to you all - maddie!

The winter snow was finally drying up as the town of Jackson prepared for warmer months. Business in the sewing shop started to slow down a little more since people tended not to care as much for the holes in their clothes in warmer weather. You found more time to catch up on your romance novels and daydreaming. The time was also filled with making alterations to your soon-to-be wedding dress. You were finally set to have an official wedding with your husband, Tripp. You both had considered each other married a long time ago.

You and Tripp had been from a small town in Kansas. Your families were neighbors and fought together for the first fifteen years of the apocalyptic world. You both were only thirteen years old when the world went to shit. Your parents had always set you two up to marry one another. All you knew was Tripp; he was your first kiss, sex, boyfriend, and now husband. You each had to risk your lives for one another at a time or two. He was always there for you like a good man should be for his wife.

The two of you ended up in Jackson after five years of being on your own after your families had gotten infected or passed away from natural causes. Your families were doomsday preppers that had been right about the world. They had turned your neighborhood into a safe place. You and Tripp had stayed in Kansas for two years until the Raiders came. Luckily, Tripp had seen them early, and you could escape with many supplies.

Once escaping, the two of you survived another six months, savaging around for a safe place to lay your head. Sadly, some raiders had caught up with you. Tripp had saved your life from becoming their little toy, but he was severely injured. The infection from the wound had almost killed him. The memory of those days was the most terrifying time of your life. You would be left alone in this lonely, broken world. You were a strong woman. You could make it out there for a while, but you knew you would give up hope. You had almost entirely given up as a group of strangers came riding up on horses to the little house that you had dragged Tripp’s incapacitated body to. The riders went through the house with guns and masks covering half of their faces. You wept as you begged them not to kill you or your husband. He was not infected. You had screamed as they pushed a gun up to his head.

The woman in the group had pulled down her mask, making you less intimidated. She told you she believed you and would help you—only if you would help her. She had seen your supplies and knew you had to have more somewhere. You told her where your childhood neighborhood was and where they could find more supplies if there were any.

Maria had taken you and Tripp into their small town of Jackson and cared for you both. Luckily, Tripp was fully recovered, and both had been given a beautiful place to call home with all the usual life amenities and jobs to occupy your time.

Tripp had taken a job working in many roles and worked himself up to join the Jackson council. He was brilliant for his age and wanted to help others, especially those who saved their lives. He cared to see this place flourish and play a significant role in the community while you liked your small role and tasks and enjoyed the comfort of your cozy home.

After a year of living in Jackson, Tripp decided to make things official with you. He had gotten everything organized with the help of the ladies in town. They had found a beautiful wedding gown for you and wedding bands customized for the two of you.

You would have never dreamed of having an everyday life after the world went to shit—the dream of enjoying your novels with a warm fire and not worrying about your next meal. Your life was near perfect with your fantastic husband.

As you got comfortable in this new life, you realized that your love for Tripp was not what you read in your books. You both came together at night to the same bed, sometimes ending in an intimate moment. It felt like a chore. Everything started to feel like a chore with him, but he’s all you have ever known and cared for. He was so good and loyal to you that you thought wrong for not feeling the same. You were comfortable with him.

Three months after coming to Jackson, a patrol group returned from savaging and visiting your childhood neighbors. Maria’s husband, Tommy, was one of the groups Tripp had introduced you to that evening, along with a few others, including Tommy’s brother, Joel.

At your first impression of Joel, you were scared of the gossip Maria had told you once when you went to her house. His facial expression and personality did not help make you more comfortable with him. From what you could see and hear, he was a dangerous, angry man with a past.

You met his daughter, Ellie, in the sewing shop one day as she brought in some of her and his clothes that had holes. She spoke highly about her father figure and told you how hard he had it. Her words made you sympathetic to him, so you kept an eye on him.

Joel did notice your eye on him. He kept one on you as well. He had learned your routine along with your soon-to-be husbands so he could spy on you without worrying about being seen. He finally got the courage to face you after Ellie complained that her favorite jacket didn’t fit her as well anymore, and she didn't have time to go to the sewing shop.

Joel took the chore for himself because he would get to see you. The interaction was the most awkward conversation ever. You had noticed him enter the shop without saying anything. You sat at the window with your eyes glued to the words of your smutty book, but your focus was on the man holding clothes at the counter, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Hello, I brought some of Ellie’s clothes to be altered if that’s okay.” He shyly grumbled under his breath, which he couldn’t catch. He tried hard not to stare at you too long where you sat reading one of your books that you always had your nose into. He went to the library after you returned some books once and read a few chapters. He was jealous of Tripp of what he was reading, wondering if you were getting ideas for the bedroom from these stories. He thought about those ideas a lot as well but with you.

You had finally gotten your nose out of your book and helped him with his armload of clothes. You awkwardly gave him an estimate of the time you would need and tried not to stare into his big brown eyes too long. You both only exchanged a few words, and then he left. The tension in the room was something you had never felt before. You almost felt embarrassed by how Joel’s appearance made you feel as you stumbled on your words, and your hands slightly shook as you took the clothes and handed him a receipt.

Joel also felt embarrassed about not speaking to you as much as he wished. He turned into a shy, blushing guy when it came to you. You were the most natural, beautiful person he had met in a long time. He could feel the warmth that you only shared with a few. The two of you were more similar than you would think, but you were still good, and he was terrible.

Your heart stung a little when Ellie showed up a few days later to pick up her clothes. You had dressed up nicely that day, finally giving yourself the courage to speak to Joel Miller. You had even hidden the small ring Tripp had given you long ago in the pocket of your jeans as you heard the bell ring on the door.

After Ellie left, you cursed yourself and placed the ring back onto your left hand. How could you think of another man that way and hurt a man who loves you as much as Tripp did? Your guilt from the action had driven you into bed with Tripp that night as you tried to make your thoughts of Joel disappear and fall back into love with your soon-to-be husband. The plan had worked until you were on the way to your shop and saw Joel Miller waiting outside the door waiting on you.

You slowly went to the shop and breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Good morning, Joel. Ellie picked up her clothes yesterday.” you quickly muttered to him as you unlocked the shop door. He stepped aside nervously and to get out of the way of the door. You go inside, but his foot catches the door before it closes behind you. You look to meet his eyes quickly.

“I know. I came to see if you could help me with a present,” he replied quickly as you held eye contact, which made you lightly blush as you looked away.

“Sure,” you muttered, moving out of the way to let him inside the shop. “Yeah, I can probably help. Who's the present for?” you asked as you turned away and felt his presence following to the back of the shop as you set down your bags. You felt a little touched and excited that Joel brought you something to help him with.

Joel runs his hands together nervously, too occupied watching to answer your question. He shook himself out of his daze as he met your beautiful eyes. “Oh, it’s for Tommy and Maria for the baby,” he answered and looked around the store at some of the projects you had up for trade.

“Well, I sewed some smaller blankets and toys the other week, which would be perfect for a little babe,” you quickly answered and rushed over to the dedicated section of the shop for children. “I crafted her a good number of outfits for my present, but I think this neutral blanket would be perfect.”

He follows you and glances at your incredible craftsmanship. He ran his thick fingers over the soft fabric of the blankets, accidentally touching your hand as you reached for the blanket you described to him. Your hands didn't jerk away but had a quiet moment of your eyes meeting. Your suppressed thoughts came rushing through your mind from the contact, along with Joel’s fantasy from your smutty books. You quickly pull your hand away as you grab the blanket for him and walk swiftly to the counter.

“I could gift wrap this blanket for you as well,” you offered as you set the blanket on the counter and glanced at the broad man. He seems lost in thought as he looks through the other clothing offered at the shop.

Joel thought of things to bring up as he glanced through the clothing. He stopped and saw a familiar shirt in the racks that looked like one of Sarah’s favorite shirts. He ran his large hand over his face to shield his emotions from anyone's view.

You stood at the counter and watched his expression fall before he covered his face. Your curiosity and worry made you instantly frown at the thought of a distraught Joel. He continued to browse the shop as you wrapped the gift, keeping a close eye on him. He eventually strolled back up to the counter, still looking deep in thought and full of emotion on his brows.

“I got everything wrapped for you,” you offer him a gentle smile and walk around the counter to hand him the decorated present. His hands gently take the present from your hands as they gaze at each other; the emotion on his face pains you. You inadvertently held onto his hand and met his eyes. “Joel,” you mutter quickly, “I just wanted you to know if you need anyone to talk to about anything. Before, after, or current events. I’m here for you.”

Joel’s eyes were full of desperation and raw emotion. His heart in his chest dropped into his stomach. He had to tell himself to catch his breath as he struggled to speak. “Thanks,” he nodded quickly as he met your eyes. His thoughts were racing through his mind as your hand remained on his.

You nervously bite your lip as you slowly remove your hand from his calloused one. Joel nodded his head to say farewell. Once, he reached the other side of the door and took a deep breath. He caught himself smiling on the way back home.

For you, the awkward ending to the conversation made you worried that you tried too hard and scared him away. The interaction was on your mind for the rest of the day and the rest of the week.

It took Joel four days to get the courage to show his face inside the shop again. He went inside after seeing Tripp go into the council meeting, which usually lasted an hour or two. He stepped into the shop with light footsteps, heading straight to the counter. You walked out of the back, not hearing the doorbell. You had your wedding dress in hand, stopping dead in your tracks as you saw Joel Miller waiting for you. “Oh, hello, Joel. I didn’t hear you come in,” you scramble around and lay down your dress on the other side of the counter. “What can I help you with today?”

He gives you a slight smile as he watches you scramble. “ Um, I just came in to accept your offer,” he nervously says, wiping his hands on his jeans. The rest of the interaction was the best conversation you have ever had. The conversation started with many nerves, but once he sat down with you to enjoy coffee. He had opened up to you as you did with him. The two of you ended the conversation with a plan to do this again soon.

It was sooner than you thought when he came strolling into the shop three days later with free pastries in hand. Meeting twice a week became the new norm for you two. You had never told Tripp about these secret meetings with Joel in the shop. It was all innocent…until it wasn’t.

The tone of your relationship with Joel changed one evening as he helped you move some racks in the store. You had accidentally hit your head on the pole of the rack. Both laughed well, but Joel got to your level to check out the goose egg. The interaction moved slowly, eyes meeting as you both smiled big at the accident. The proximity of your faces made you catch your breath, mainly because of the growing tension. Before you know it, his warm lips met yours. Neither of you pulled away, letting your hands meet his face's sides. The kiss was the most passionate kiss you had experienced.

After a few moments, you jerked your lips from his and stood up quickly as you hit your head again. You let out a groan of agony and rubbed your head, “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done that,” you muttered as he helped you up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he uttered as his concerned eyes met yours. “Is your head okay?”

“You didn’t upset me at all. It was very nice. I, um, I don’t know. My head’s fine.” you giggled nervously and rubbed your goose egg on your head. He quickly found a plastic bag and ice to assist you with your injury. The silence spoke volumes as you both danced around each other and the kiss.

“I thought it was nice too. I’m sorry that I did it. I won’t do it again,” he pleaded as he started to get all his stuff together to leave. You quickly moved your way to him and laid a hand over his.

“Joel,” you muttered, nervously biting your lip as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes met his, and your lips met again as well. This kiss was a little more chaotic as his large hands met your hips. The passionate scene began as he pulled you in him and leaned you against the small table as he took control of the kiss. Your breathing was in unison as you hungrily groped at one another.

After a few moments, you pulled away and touched his chest. “No one can know,” you yelled out as he eased off of you.

He nodded, keeping his large hand on your hips as he pulled you into one more peck. “You don’t know how long I have dreamed of your lips,” he mutters against your lips and gives you one more peck for good measure.

His comment makes you blush as you think the same thoughts as the two of you who have grown closer to one another. “I’m serious, Joel. Not even Ellie can know of this. And no feelings either. I’m getting married in less than a month. It has to end before that,” you sternly say as you gesture between them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbles as he pulls off of you and collects his stuff after seeing that the sun is about to set, which means Tripp will return from patrol soon. “Our little secret,” he winks at you with a smirk.

You teasingly roll your eyes at the broad man as he heads towards the door. “See ya later, Joel.” You let out as he gives you a wave and a wink. You sit at the little table and shake your head as you start blushing at the memories. The guilt was starting to set in, but the excitement of the thrill coexisted.

The subsequent few interactions with Joel happened inside the shop when Tripp had gone out to patrol or into a meeting. Only a little happened besides the make-out session with slow hands. You would talk about how you were feeling or the memories in the conversation.

The first time you two had decided to take your secret relationship to the next level, you had to be planned out, not in the romantic sense, but in the privacy sense. Joel’s naughty, sweet nothings had made you want to wait until you could fully enjoy your pleasures with one another instead of a few quickies.

After breakfast in the dining hall, you sat with Tripp and his patrol group as they discussed plans for their two-day savaging trip, which they would take up to a region they hadn’t explored recently. Families had given them requests for specific supplies and to watch for anything wedding-themed.

Your quick eye contact with Joel as everyone prepped their horses for the trip sent a shiver down your spine. Your legs squeezed together in anticipation of lying with your secret lover.

Tripp had pulled you into a loving hug and quick peck as he pledged to see you soon, hopefully with a surprise. The caring remarks squeezed your gut with guilt as you returned the loving looks, even if they were semi-fake.

Joel had disappeared before the horses left the gate, heading home to avoid making your plan too apparent to others. After poking around town for an extra fifteen minutes, you made your way down the street of homes with your hands full of a fake decoy of clothes that you might be delivered to someone. Only a few people wandered the streets at this hour.

Relief radiated from you as you stepped onto Joel’s doorstep's old wood. As you slipped inside, you knew the door was unlocked. The house was a comfortable temperature to discard your coat. You heard loud footsteps upstairs as you made your way up them. “Joel, I’m here,” you quietly announced.

His broad frame slips from what you would guess was his room, and he is wearing only an undershirt and his jeans. Seeing his large muscles and chest peeking out of the short-sleeved shirt made you turn red like a tomato. He looked sexier this way (which you didn’t think could be possible). “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says as his large hands find their familiar rhythm on your hips, pulling you closer to his toned body.

“I’m nervous,” you quickly admit to him as you chew on your lip. His eyes watched as your teeth sucked your lips with desperation, darkening from his thoughts. “I’ve only been with one person, and we could be doing everything wrong,” you joke nervously. His thumb runs against your cheek as he cups your face.

“You’re going to be just fine, angel. I’m going to teach you a thing or two, I bet,” Joel whispers against your lips as he lands his plush lips against yours.

You quickly pull away, looking up at him. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” The nerves were getting the best of you as you wanted it to end.

“Slow down, angel. You are supposed to enjoy the foreplay. Do you know what foreplay is?” He asks as he pushes your body more against the wall.

“Of course I do. My books discuss foreplay, but I’ve always been too nervous to ask Tripp about it. I usually just touch Tripp a little and spit on my hand to wet myself and him, then we fuck.” You explain the way of your everyday sex life. It was all you knew how it went in the real world; your smutty books seemed like fantasy to the realism of your bedroom time. Tripp didn’t know of the dirty little books you were reading.

Joel chuckles as his large thumb runs against your partially opened lips, towering over you with a hungry look in his eye. The weeks of intimate make-outs and slow hands have worked up the anticipation. He is pulling you into a passionate kiss, holding you against the wall. One hand cupped and kept your face still; the other pressed against the wall above your head, enclosing you against the wall.

He nibbles on your lower lip, pulling on your lip until you let out a moan and distracting you from the work of his hands as they move down your body. “So many things to teach you, angel. You look mighty beautiful today,” he whispers against your lips as his fingers gaze at the edges of your dress, causing goosebumps to spread over your body. “I know we already discussed boundaries and safe words, but I want to hear it from you again.”

You were so caught up in the tension and his wandering hands that you nodded your head along with what he said while you processed it. “Oh, um, yellow means uncomfortable. Red means stop,” you mumble to him as your cheeks glow red.

“Good girl,” he groans as his fingers go up the skirt of your dress, running against your thighs full of goosebumps. He uses his pointer finger to run across your mound, “someone’s excited for this to happen.” He smirked as his dark eyes held heavy eye contact as he watched your reactions to his touch.

You let out a shaky breath as you try to untense your body. He started to kiss down your neck, which caused you to lean your head to the side. His worn face and kisses and nibbles cause you to let out a light moan against him. His fingers tease you as you push your hips into his palm.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he gropes your ass. You nod in agreement because you can’t use your words.

He guides you into his clean bedroom. The bed looks like it was quickly made after he got up this morning. Sunlight peeks through his blinds, lighting the room well. He guides you to the edge of the bed, where his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He meets your eyes for approval and a dirty, smug look.

The anticipation of seeing you naked has been itching at Joel for weeks. His fingers delicately unzip you from your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. They were nothing special, but the look on Joel’s face would make you think that you had the sexiest Victoria's Secret lingerie on. Your cheeks turned a new shade of pink, and he asked quickly for consent to continue his work. He palms at your clothed breast gently, then gradually becomes more aggressive. You let out small sounds of pleasure as he works at your breast. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, continuing down to your neck and chest. He licked and kissed down your neck to chest, fingers finding the clasps of your bra.

You started to feel the guilt of not pleasuring Joel. You ran your hand up to cup his face, which caused him to look desperate, giving you a second of control. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled slightly as his fingers finally opened your bra. It fell down your shoulder; he pulled it wholly off your chest. The cold air contact made you whimper, making Joel’s desperate eyes change to a more dominant dark look.

He takes control quickly, setting you down on the bed. He pulls your legs through your panties and starts to kiss your breast, groping the other as he works. His clothed hips sat against yours as you lay on the edge of the bed. His hardened member pulsing against your core, your hands nervously find their way down to him. You rub him through his jeans as you think of a dirty idea.

You wrap your naked body around him, “Will you flip me on top, baby? I wanna try something,” you whimper out to him, which causes him to grin like a villain. He quickly flips and takes his shirt off.

“Do you want me to take my jeans off? They might be a little uncomfortable to sit on,” he quickly says as he doesn’t lean back yet onto the bed. His hands grip your waist to support you, looking up to you for a response.

“No, keep them on,” you mumble back with a light blush. You had never taken control of anything in the bedroom; your dirty thoughts were finally answered. You perched your slit right on top of his clothed member, which caused Joel to let out a shaky breath. He could not keep his eyes off your body and face, smirking like the luckiest man in the world.

You grind your hips against his clothed half, letting out a slight moan from the contact. His hands grip your ass as you continue. The contact from the jeans on your bare pussy was more intense than you thought. You continued to grind until you lost control for a few. Joel sat back and enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself on him.

“Maybe take your jeans off,” you blushed after enjoying yourself. You sat up for him to take them off, helping him unbuckle himself. You gawked at the size of him through his white underwear, swallowing hard as you nervously thought of how he would fit inside of you. He pulls his jeans off, leaning up to meet you in a passionate, messy kiss and holding your naked body against his.

“Look how wet you are for me, baby girl,” he mumbles against you as he pulls up the crotch of his jeans. The sign of your pleasure makes him more horny and want to show you more pleasure. He enjoys the sight of the bright blush and tries to hide your face as you giggle from him, calling out the wetness of his jeans. “I think I want to see for myself,” he bites his lip as he gently sets you on your side beside him. His fingers run up your thighs and gently spread your legs apart as you twist onto your back. You slowly allow him to spread your legs, admiring all of you. “Jesus, baby, soaking wet for me.”

He runs over your pussy lips with his large fingers, stimulating your clit with his other thumb. He smirked as you squirmed from the sensation, arching your back slightly. He continues to tease your sensitive exterior until you beg him for more. Between shaky breaths and moans, you met eyes with Joel as he smirked down at your pleasure, seeing him palming himself from your noises.

Joel finally reached up to your lips as you sucked on his fingers for a few moments, which caused him to let out a groan as you made flirty eye contact with him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and slowly inserts them into your wet sensitive pussy. Your hand finds the sheets quickly as you moan for Joel. He starts a deep rhythm into you as his thumb works your clit. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he admires your current state. You grind yourself against his motions, which causes more intense pleasure.

“Fuck, Joel, I think I’m gonna cum,” you let out a desperate cry as you were confused by the new pressure Joel was showing you. You had touched yourself to your fantasies and done it to yourself, but this was much different (and better).

“You think? Has a man never made you cum?” he asks with a smug look as he continues to pleasure you, inserting another finger as you cry in pleasure. You shake your head no to him as your hands find your pebbly nipples and run your fingers across them. Joel watches you intensely grind against him and play with your nipples. He could almost cum in his pants from the sight. Your shaky breath and hip motions increase as he continues to finger fuck, “You got it, baby girl. Being such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers,” he praises you until you let out a sharp yelp of pleasure and came on his fingers.

You throw yourself onto the mattress as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you mumble and look up to Joel as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your glossy pussy. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks one clean with a moan of pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You taste as good as I thought,” he says as he smirks, cleaning you off his fingers.

Your eyes wander down to his package, and you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his throbbing member. You reach your hand up to him, leaning forward. You take his long shaft into your hand and palm him gently. Joel’s head throws back from the contact, groaning in pleasure.

Everything moves quickly from this moment on. You help Joel take his underwear off and pump his pre-cum leaking cock. You lean over and give his tip a dramatic kiss as you look up to meet his dark eyes. You eventually guide him inside your mouth for a few moments to give him a little loving.

He lets out a loud moan as he grips your hair, as you use your mouth to please him immensely. You pull off of him with a prominent chin on your face, which he cups and gives you a messy kiss. Before you know it, he flips you onto your knees, and he is behind you now. He gropes at your breast, and his sizeable naked cock grinds against your ass. “Are you ready, angel?” he asks as he leans you up to each other and waits for your response.

“Yes, Joel, more than ready,” you giggle to him as your legs shake in anticipation. One of his large hands wraps around the hip to your front, holding you against him. He lined up their bodies, inserting his thick head into you. Your head throws back in pleasure as he slowly inserts himself fully into you. “Joel, fuck,” you let the whimper as you let your body fall against his as he starts to thrust slowly into you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks into your ear as he slows his actions for your response.

“You're so big, Joel, but you feel so good,” you breathly moan at him, grinding your hips into his thurst.

“You're taking me so well, baby girl. Feels so good,” he groans in pleasure as his grip on your hips tightens, thrusting deep.

The intimate fucking lasted until nightfall, with many orgasms occurring. At the end of the moment, Joel and you are lying on your backs, trying to catch your breath as you giggle with one another.

“That was better than I could ever imagine, baby girl. ,” he says as he holds you close and kisses your neck. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your breasts against him.

Joel helped you wash off and prepare to go home for the night. The interaction was friendly and a promise to continue to see each other in the morning to fuck again. The following day was full of more pleasure and many, many orgasms.

Tripp came home, and you were terrified that he would notice a change or something off, but he didn’t. Everything seemed the same as it was before he left.

Joel and you still met twice a week inside the shop. Some of the visits ended with you bent over the table in the back or riding him in the chair.

One of the risky quickies you had was on a movie night in town. Everyone had gone ahead, and Joel said he would stay home, but you told everyone that you had forgotten something at home. You met at a secret secluded spot in town. Joel fucked you hard as he covered your mouth with his large hand, fully clothed.

The secret sex affair had never felt like it played the line of emotional attachment until one evening.

You had been informed of an old craft store the groups had found savaging for supplies. Tripp had invited you to come with him and a group to search for supplies for the town, such as fabrics, crafts, and other supplies you might need. The group would burn the small town down so no one would be attracted to it after the fact since nothing would be there. (They would make sure it didn’t start a wildfire but burn buildings to prevent people from coming closer to Jackson.)

The group of ten people, along with a wagon, was plenty for the mission to salvage the small town. The group included Tripp, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and two other friends of yours. After spending most of the day, it was time to head out after savaging through dusty shelves of picked-over craft supplies. You did find a lot of valuable items that will be helpful for the shop.

You loaded your last box of supplies into the wagon as the guys started to burn other buildings around. You look through your pile as you get excited over your finds. Then you noticed you forgot something inside. You look over to tell Tripp, but he is somewhere else. You should have enough time to grab the last box before they set fire to the building.

You quickly run inside and search for the box you had put together. You could hear some commotion outside the building. Looking around, you finally found the box and ran over to it. Before reaching the box, you slipped over a line of oil the guys had put for the fire. You tried to stand up quickly but couldn’t because of the pain in your ankle. You curse yourself as you try to get up.

Outside the building, the guys had started to light the gasoline line they had already laid down. Tripp was the one to light it. Everyone backed away to their horses and wagon, chatting amongst themselves.

“Um, I’m only seeing five out of six of us,” Tommy says as he runs his hand through his hair, looking around for you.

By this time, you could see the flames inside the building. The flame ran along the line of oil that you were sitting in, which was all over you. You let out a scream of help to the others outside.

Joel was the first to hear you after becoming aware you were missing from the group. Tripp finally realized what was happening, but Joel was already soaking his handkerchief in water and covering his airways to run inside after you. His whole body was in fear of how he would find you. Your screams of terror made him move further into the blazing building. He found you in one of the further rooms holding your ankle and a box of supplies.

“Joel,” you gasped as you tried not to inhale more smoke than you already had. His large arms picked you up quickly and carried you to safety. At that time, you had knocked unconscious from all the smoke inhaling.

Tripp ran to Joel as he carried you outside of the building. “What have I done?! I didn’t know she was inside. Thank you, Joel,” the man rambled as he tried to help Joel to the wagon.

Joel had helped the others get you into the wagon, but his body hit the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Maria jumped into the wagon to help assist you while Tommy helped his brother strip off his clothes and cool him down.

“Is she okay?” Joel let out a shaky breath as he drank some water Tommy had given him. Tommy looked at the level of concern on his brother's face. There was something different in the way he asked and looked at you at this moment that made him raise questions that he would never bring up. The others besides Tripp noticed the same level of concern for you from Joel but didn’t say anything because he had just saved your life.

After gaining consciousness, you slowly recover from the smoke inhalation and start to become more of yourself over the next few days. You had not seen Joel since you were bedridden the last few days. Others had come to visit you with surprises, or their presence made you feel better.

You felt good enough to return to your shop about a week later. The excitement of organizing your new supplies and Tripp's sweet support have driven you to recovery. You kissed Tripp goodbye and headed for the day as he attended a council meeting.

After an hour, you finally found a great organizational system for your new finds. The sound of the shop bell brought you out of your headspace, and you prayed it was one person. You walked around the counter and saw a small bouquet with a small note waiting for you.

‘Hope you are well. - J’ was the only message scribbled on the piece of paper. Your head feels light-headed as your feelings start to make you emotional. He never came to check on you or had a second for you to thank him for saving your life.

You had gone out of your way three days later to visit Joel’s home. You come with a small present of a new flannel shirt with a custom name embroidered into the sleeve. No one had answered the door when he should have been home. Joel sat in his upstairs window, watching you as you knocked on his door. He felt more emotional than he should have watched you leave the present on his doorstep and wiped the tears from your eyes before you turned towards the street. Both of your hearts ached more than they should have from your “non-emotional” affair.

You had received a visit from Joel in the shop or any secretive message from him again after the flowers. The only contact with the broad, mysterious man was from group settings with friends. Your relationship with Tripp had improved from the relationship to the bedroom.

It was the day of your wedding. All the work you both had put into it had finally paid off. You felt off the whole day as your friends surrounded you with much love. You put on your wedding dress as you tried not to smirk at the dirty thought of Joel fucking you in it after you had finished your alterations on it, along with his creative ideas for it.

The day you had dreamed of all your life was a haze, and it did not feel the way it was supposed to. You could barely focus on the day as you tried to find that one person throughout it.

As you make your way down the aisle, you can't help but look around at your friends and community members with a big, fake smile. You find the beautiful brown eyes on Joel as you slow your walk down to meet Tripp. You couldn't help but match the pained look on Joel’s face as you saw each other. You quickly recovered when you met Tripp at the altar.

The officiant was Tommy, as he was one of Tripp’s closest friends and mentors. He talked highly of you and read off the typical wedding speech of love and endearment of marriage.

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Tommy said as he looked out into the crowd, looking for his brother's eyes, which he could not find in the audience. You found yourself doing the same as Tommy. You felt your heart fall into your stomach from the question, but you thought it broke as you saw no sign of the person you wanted to find and hear speak up.

The wedding was a great success, and much love was spread amongst the community. You had only dreamed of it happening in this messed-up world. The wedding night ended up at the Tipsy Bison, where you hung on your husband's arm and drank your secret emotions in whiskey and anything you could get your hands on. Maria and some of the ladies in your bridal party helped you into the restroom as you felt queasy.

Joel had eased his way into the bar as he watched you hang on your husband’s arm. He had left the wedding early, drinking his sorrows away all day. He hadn’t been the man he thought he could be, but he showed up to the wedding and swept you away from your husband. His cowardly, drunken self had shown up in the bar more like stumbled into it.

It took him a while to reach your newlywed husband as he saw you go to the restroom. “Congratulations, Tripp! You got yourself a lovely wife and life. One man can only be so lucky,” Joel drunkenly says to Tripp as he wraps his arm around him. Trpp looks around at the guys around them.

Tripp nervously chuckles as he looks back at Joel, “thanks, Joel. I know I am the luckiest man in the world today,” he says as he lifts his beer to him.

They cheer their glass of whiskey and make small talk amongst themselves. Joel orders every one of them a round of shots. He rewraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. “When was the last time you fucked her?” Joel whispers into Tripp’s ear.

Tripp whips his head around to him and throws him off his shoulder, “Excuse me, Joel?” He sternly asks him as he looks more shocked than ever. At this time, the girls had helped you out of the bathroom and nursed you with a glass of water as you walked back into the bar. You look up from your glass to see the scene of your husband and lover.

Joel chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Boy, I said, when was the last time you fucked her?” he says calmly with a wicked smirk on his face. “And I don’t mean the pathetic.

Fuck that she told me that you gave her. I mean, like a proper fucking her where she can’t remember any dick beside mine.” The smirk on his face as the words come out his face, and everyone’s faces drop in shock from them. Tripp’s fist on Joel’s face is the first sound anyone hears besides gasps. Joel doesn’t fight back as Tripp punishes his beautiful face. Tommy and some of the other patrol group members are the ones who break them up. You didn’t even notice that you had fallen in shock when you met Joel’s eyes, and Tommy pulled him outside.

Before Tripp could find you, you ran for the only place you thought you could be safe: the sewing shop. The tears, dirt, and memories of your affair ruin your precious wedding dress as you run through all the dirt to your safe space. You hysterically cry yourself to sleep as you know your secret has been told to the world. They were going to shun you and kick you out into the cruel world again, you feared.

By the time you awoke in the morning, it seemed the whole town had forgotten the terrible incident at the Tipsy Bison. You walked into your shared home with Tripp quietly to find him passed out on the couch, holding an empty whiskey bottle. The guilt and pain made you want to run away from these problems.

You eventually wake your groom up and tell him everything that happened with Joel. You apologize and promise to work on your relationship. It felt like he had forgiven you too quickly. There were boundaries and much more to discuss, but you planned to work out your relationship with your sweet husband.

After spending a few days off from the shop on your “honeymoon,” you finally returned to your shop to help the community with all its clothing issues, and Tripp went back to his routine. Joel had reportedly left on a solo patrol after the wedding after a rough discussion with Ellie that night.

You casually looked out the window from the shop every time you heard the large gates of Jackson open, hoping to see those locks of brown hair. To just talk to the man that you swore never to love, but that was a lie you always told yourself.

Joel had never returned. Ellie eventually went after him and returned with the news that made you drop to your knees from the worst news ever. He was gone. Forever. Your lover, Joel Miller, had left this world without saying goodbye.

Thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic

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chloeangelic · 6 months

Text

the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year.

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile.

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then.

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town.

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back.

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.”

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment.

“Salesman of the year?”

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours.

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?”

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.”

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone.

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…”

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?”

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.”

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt.

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door.

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror.

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door.

“And that’s my room.”

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed.

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk.

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes.

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you.

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button.

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp.

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties.

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him.

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him.

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up.

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.”

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick.

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening.

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach.

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door.

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax.

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips.

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread.

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.”

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist.

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night.

“More than just sex.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”.

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.”

“Sure… In a bit.”

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert imagine #jim halpert fic #jim halpert fanfic #the office fanfiction #jim halpert

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dumblilb · 8 months

Text

I KNEW THEN

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: You have loved Ellie since the moment she moved to Jackson. You just didn’t know it at the time. Inspired by Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers.)

(Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, smut with way to much backstory lmao, switch!Ellie, switch!reader, oral (reader and Ellie receiving), fingering, friends to lovers, tlou!au, smoking weed, cursing, fluff)

(Words: 3629)

You had been in Jackson about a year before Ellie had showed up. So when her and Joel moved in next door, your parents practically shoved you out of the house to go invite them to dinner.

You knocked on the door messing with the hem of your shirt. Till it swung open and a scruffy looking man stood in front of you.

“H-hello.” You stuttered out.

“Hi there.” Joel says and you muster up your best smile.

“I live next door and me and my parents were wondering if you guys would like to come over for dinner?” You explain. You can tell the man is tired and you expect him to say no. But he gives a polite grin and nods.

“What time?” He asks and your face lights up.

“Six.” You smile.

“See you then.” He says and shuts the door as you walk off. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him bringing the new girl in town over. You had seen her a few months back when they first found tommy. She was walking with Maria in town and you had bumped into them. The girl took a knife out of her pocket and held it to face you. You were so startled you fell back onto the snow covered floor.

“Ellie there’s no need for that.” Maria says and the girl lowers the knife as Maria helps you up.

“Sorry y/n.” She apologizes. And you dust your clothes off.

“It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was going.” You say as the girl next to her just stared at you. She had really pretty green eyes and freckles covering her frosty cheeks.

“Y/n this is Ellie. She’s a friend of Tommy’s brother.” Maria explains and you stick out a hand to shake. She looks at you funny but returns the gesture.

“Nice to meet you, I guess.” She says and you just smile ignoring that last bit.

“You too.” You say and they continue to walk leaving you to stare at the auburn haired girl.

You hadn’t been able to forget her since. She just seemed so cool and grown up compared to you. Even though you found out from your mom when they moved in that she’s the same age as you.

So as you ran home you thought of all the stuff you needed to do to get ready for tonight. You wanted her to like you.

You went into your room and shut the door loudly behind you. You stood in front of the mirror wondering if you should change your hairstyle up, or if you should put on some perfume. You changed your shirt twice and ended up laying on your bed, annoyed at the way your jeans fit, when your mom walked in.

“Are they coming over?” She asks taking in your newly messy room.

“Yeah at 6.” You say and she smiles.

“You better clean up then. What if she wants to see your room.” She teases you and you shoot up right. Looking around at the clothes scattered on your floor and the mess displayed on your vanity. You gasp internally. ‘Oh no’ is all you could think before you started to pile clothes into your hands and rush them to the laundry. Your mom just laughs before going to set the table. You finish up and rush to put on your earrings as you hear a knock at the door.

You dash past your parents and open it up. At first you only see Joel, who moves inside to greet your parents, which finally gives you a good view of her. She looked different than when you last saw her. Not really in appearance, but her demeanor. She seemed some how even more reserved. She had her hands in her pocked and a tired look on her face. All the work you had done lost all meaning in a mater of seconds and you felt humiliated realizing she probably wouldn’t care at all what you had done to look good, or how nice your room looked. But you mustered up the courage to give her a smile.

“Hi.” You say your voice almost cracking.

“Hi…” She says awkwardly. You move aside letting her in. She looks around as she gravitates towards Joel. Him and your parents notice this so as you shut the door your mom says-

“Why don’t you girls go hang out in y/n’s room as we finish up dinner.” Your heart drops as you stare at her wide eyed. Ellie just sighs and Joel nudges her in an attempt at getting her to be polite. You nervously lead the girl to your door and walk in. She stared at your posters that adorn your walls and the books and comics piled up by your bed.

“You wanna sit?” You ask motioning to the bed. She just shrugs and takes a seat. You doing the same.

“So uh, you like comics?” She asks breaking the silence and you look up at her.

“Oh yeah, I have a little collection. You like um too?” You smile and she nods.

“Yeah I had some but I couldn’t bring them to Jackson.” She says a little more comfortable than before.

“You can borrow some of mine. I’ve reread them like a hundred times so they could use some fresh eyes.” You say and she lights up.

“That would be really cool, thanks.” She says giving you a smile. It’s the first time you had seen her smile. Your stomach flipped at the sight. She was so pretty.

“So uh, do you like music?” You say and she nods enthusiastically. You spent the rest of the night getting to know each other. Talking about your interest and favorite things to do. You found out she really liked space and drawing. And you vowed to show her your favorite movies. You both were laying on your bed reading one of your comics in very loud and dramatic display when your mom knocked on the door opening it up.

“Dinner.” She says and can’t help but smile at the big grins on both of your faces.

Dinner at your respective houses became a weekly thing. And quickly a deep friendship was made. You were together all the time. You would sleep over in her garage all the time. To the point that you practically had your own drawer in her dresser. When you got old enough Maria had you and Ellie paired together on patrols. Ellie hated it. Not that she had to do them, but the fact that you got hurt so often. You’d never forget your first day. It was snowing and your feet hurt from the hours of walking in the heavy boots.

“Stay behind me okay.” She smiled moving some of your hair out of your face. You nodded and followed her around the corner towards a broken down fence. She was about to climb through when you both heard noise behind you. An infected was running straight for you. Ellie had spent weeks teaching you how to shoot. But it all seemed to slip your mind. You shot at it a few times before it tackled you to the ground. You grabbed a large rock that was next to you and tried to bash its head, but it was no use. Ellie ripped it off you stabbing it multiple times in the head. Blood splattered across her face as she did it. It fell dead to the ground and you looked up at her. The deep red lay against her frosty pale skin making your stomach flip. She kneeled in front of you and wiped away some that got on your cheek.

You had always thought Ellie was pretty. It never seemed weird to you. But in this moment you realized pretty wasn’t a good way to describe her anymore. It seemed too juvenile. Something any best friend would say. She was beautiful. When she looked at you it was almost polarizing. As she gave you a hand your grip trembled. Ellie would convince herself you were just scared after what just happened. But you knew it was the way she held on for a little too long after you got up that had your knees weak.

“Are you okay?” She asks rubbing your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m okay…”You say not breaking eye contact.

From that day on you couldn’t help but notice little things about her. Like how she rested her hand on your waist when you would order for her at the tipsy bison. Or how she would kiss your forehead before leaving on a patrol you weren’t assigned on. Or how she was so protective of you when it came to the men in town. Little did she know they wouldn’t have a chance if they wanted one.

Ellie noticed things about you too. Like how you make sure to give her a compliment everyday. Or how you can’t help but cuddle up with her when you sleep over. Half the time leaving her aching as you sleep on her chest. Knowing it’s as close as she’s ever gonna get to what she wishes. She’s known how she’s felt about you since the first day she got here. You were just so gorgeous. It made her super nervous, so when you were so nice to her she couldn’t believe it. You began to get so close that she felt almost disgusted with how much she liked you. She even tried to date a little over the years to get over it. She dated this girl named cat who covered up her scars with a large tattoo on her forearm. But she knew that wouldn’t work out when all she could think about was how excited she was to show it to you.

The day of your 19th birthday you and a few friends went to the bar to do makeshift karaoke. Your parents, Joel, Tommy, and Maria all sat at a table in the back laughing at the sight in front of them. You and Ellie danced around like children as Dina and Jesse sang a horrible rendition of my heart will go on. When they finished up you got up and grabbed the guitar you borrowed from Joel. You start to strum and they all sit down.

You start to sing. At first all you could focus on was where you were putting your fingers. Knowing you weren’t as good as Ellie or Joel. But as you got farther into the song you looked up from the strings and at her. Whenever you heard this song you thought of her. You thought of her voice and how her skin feels against yours. You thought of how much she’s gone through and how many times she been your personal defender. You thought about how no matter what you did she was always the first and last thought you had each day. She consumed you. All you could do was stare at her as the words left you lips.

“Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment. Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then.

I would do anything you want me to.

I would do anything for you. I would do anything, I would do anything. Whatever you want me to do, I will do.

Whatever she wants, whatever she wants.

Whatever she wants

I will do anything

Whatever she wants

Whatever she wants…..”

The air felt thick as you both looked at each other. The others clapped and you got up walking towards her. You said nothing. Not one word. You just took a seat next to her and watched the next performance. She gripped your hand. Tight. And she didn’t let go till you got to her place that night.

You sat on her couch with a joint between your fingers and her legs entangled with yours. She ran her fingers down your thigh as she looked at you. She was humming the song you sang as you let out a puff of smoke.

You had shared endless nights like this. But the feeling that only can be described as understanding roamed through the air. You were terrified. Cause you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You turned to face her, just taking the moment in. She had changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Her hair was half tied up. And as she took the joint from your fingers to her lips, the sight of them parting made you squirm in your seat. She let out the smoke and you finally spoke up.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know something.” You say and she hold your hand on hers.

“What’s up?” She says trying to play it cool. She can’t remember the last time she found anyone as beautiful as she found you right now.

“I- I think I’ve liked you from the day I met you.” You say in almost a whisper, causing her to chuckle nervously.

“I would hope so. We’re kinda best friends.” She jokes and you hold her hand tighter.

“Ellie. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” You finally let out without falter. She went tense. But her face softened. You look at her trying to read her mind. You rub the back of her hand with your thumb. Causing her to shiver. She finally lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in. And she smiled. She put her hand out to caress your cheek.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” She breathes causing you to let out a small giggle.

She moves her hand to the base of your neck. Pulling you towards her.

“Im glad. Cause you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” You whisper and gently press your lips to hers. She grins into the kiss as you run your fingers from her hands to her arms. Moving to where she’s slightly on top of you, she separates slowly. Placing small kisses around your face. You place one last kiss to her lips before you pulled her up to go lay down.

“I’ve gotta say this is probably my favorite sleep over we have ever had.” She smirks and you push her shoulder.

“You better shut up or I’m going home.” You threaten. Small laughs leaving your lips.

“Oh yeah sure. I bet you think the stuffed bear on your bed kisses better than me too.” She smiles now hovering over you. Her knees on either side of your hips as she kisses down your neck.

You grip her hips tightly messing with the hem of her shirt. Sliding your thumbs into the waistband of her boxers you tug a little causing her to nip harder at you neck. She stops for a second to remove her shirt. Causing you to stare up at her in awe.

You wrap your arms under hers and glide your fingers down her bare back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You mutter causing a pink tint to coat her cheeks. You pull her down and start to kiss a line down her chest. Returning the favor she had done to your neck. She lets out a shaky breath gripping your shirt in her hands. She pulls it off of you slowly to let the feeling of your lips linger on her skin a little longer.

“Fuck..” she whispers. A hot feeling pooling in her stomach as she looks down at your chest. She places her hand on your skin rubbing the plush of your tits softly with her thumb, making your head lean back at the feeling. Your hands rest in her hair as she leans in connecting her mouth to one. Her tongue massages the area causing you to let out a soft moan. A hand travels down to try and remove your pajama shorts. So you lift your hips to help her. Grinding into her slightly causing her to groan.

She traveled down your body leaving sloppy pecks to your skin as she goes. She thumbs the damp era of your underwear.

“Hmm.” She sounds and you look down at her. “Can I-“

“Please.” You say. Urgency in your voice.

She lowers herself to place her nose to your clothed core and she breathes in deep causing you to gasp at her actions. She tugs at the fabric helping you get it off you legs. Leaving kisses down and back up your inner thighs as she goes. Spreading you open with her fingers she plays with your folds painfully slow. Neglecting your clit on purpose just to hear you whine.

“Ellie-“

“Shhhh…” she whispers placing her lips to your cunt leaving small kisses the the area. The vibrations of her statement making you close your eyes.

She dips her tongue in grazing it up your slit. And gently sucking on your sensitive bud. You groan loudly making her grip your hips harder. Begging to move quicker she massages the area, making you grind into her face. You grip the messy bed sheets tightly as she brings a hand to slowly insert a finger into your cunt.

She moves at a delicate pace looking up at you. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you let out a moan. Your skin was starting to glisten from sweat and each time you thrust towards her, your chest would bounce. A wet spot was forming in her boxers from the sight. Your knuckles were white as you gripped her sheets. But as she moved slightly one of your hand released its grip and found a new place in her hair. Tugging slightly to direct her where you needed. She complied happily. The feeling of you clenching as she added another finger almost being enough to make her finish herself.

“Ellie don’t stop… I’m gonna…” You barley get out as she pumps her fingers in you rapidly. Running circles on your clit with her tongue as she goes. Your head rolls back as you place your other hand to palm your chest pinching yourself as a wave of release washed over your body. Letting out a string of curses as she lets you ride out your high removing her fingers. Happily cleaning you up with mouth. She kisses up your chest to your cheeks using her thumb to open your lips, she places the fingers she was just using to them. Letting you taste yourself.

“You did so good.” She smiles softly as she places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not done.” You say sitting up and flipping her on her back, causing her to look up at you in shock.

“It’s my turn. Whatever you want.” You smile sweetly leaving small kisses to her cheeks as you straddle her hips, locking her down.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you.” She whispers holding your face softly in her palms. Bringing you in for a kiss. It was needy. Like she was making up for lost time. Years of pent up frustration letting itself out in this moment.

You separate for a second to pull off her boxers. You notice the soaked spot but don’t say anything. Like it was a little secret all for yourself. You liked knowing that you had the same affect on her as she did for you.

You gripped her legs pulling her closer to the edge of the bed as you got down bedside it on your knees. You hoisted her thighs over your shoulder.

“God you’re so hot.” You groan as you run your palm down her toned abdomen. When you place your mouth on her slit you swear you hear her whimper out your name. She thrusts slightly on your face. Causing you to hold her down tighter. You start to move your tongue over her clit in small up and down motions, making tension build in her. You could tell she wanted to move quicker so you let her do just that. She used your face like a toy as you assisted her hips in ridding your tongue. She brought a hand down to play with her clit as you inserted your tongue in and out of her heat.

“You feel so fucking good.” She stammers out as you move her hand and replace the sensation with your lips suctioning the area and your fingers plunging in her. A loud groan escapes her lips. She couldn’t help but lean forward a little to watch you. You take notice to this and hover over her. Kissing her neck slowly. Her fingers grip your hair as your fingers continue to fill her walls. Your palm rubbing her puffy clit in the process. She becomes louder, letting out a string of curses her hips turn restless as you add another finger curling up slightly to hit her spot.

You can feel her clench around you tightly as her legs twitch. You feel her release. Cumming on your fingers making you smile against her. Kissing down her body, You remove your fingers with a steady motion. Licking her clean you drag it up to press your chest against hers. You leaned into the crook of her neck as she breathed heavily. Her chest moving up and down, mimicking yours.

You both got comfortable heads resting on her pillows as she connects her lips to yours. You feel something wet on your cheek and separate to look at her. She had small tears in the corners of her eyes. You brought your hand to caress her as she pulls you in tight, clinging to your body.

“Why are you crying?” You ask softly kissing away a tear that threatened to fall.

“I’m just so happy. I wish it wouldn’t have taken us this long to get here.” She sighs nuzzling her head in your chest with a big grin.

“Me too. Im so glad I have you.” You say running your fingers through her roots as she falls asleep in your arms. With a smile resting on her features.

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Beer Boy and Sugar may have spent years apart, but their ten year college reunion proves they have always been part of the same equation.

Warnings: Fluff, swears, and angst. Eventual smut. 18+ only

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

It was kind of funny to you when you thought about it. Everyone from your graduating class was flooding back to the University of Virginia for your class reunion, but you'd been here pretty much every single day for the past six years.

You hadn't planned on ending up right back where you started after graduating from the University of Chicago with your PhD, but things never usually went as you planned.

"Big ten year reunion for you tomorrow night," said Veronica, your closest friend from work. "Are you excited?" You and she were sitting at a small table in a trendy bar near campus.

You just shrugged and swirled the last sip of your beer around in your pint glass. "Honestly? Not really. I haven't kept in contact with that many people I graduated with, and I probably wouldn't be going if I wasn't already living in town."

You pictured your cute rental house with the crooked fence and crumbling front step. It was only a few blocks from where you had lived your senior year.

"I'm sure you'll have fun!" Veronica said with a grin. "And if everyone sucks, you can rub it in that you have your PhD from one of the most prestigious programs in the country. And that you were published in Mathematics of Tomorrow when you were only twenty two."

You laughed. "I think you are overestimating how many people I plan on talking to. Maybe I'll see someone I know, but I'm just going for the free drinks and dinner, and then heading home."

"Yeah, you better head home early! Head home and make a decision for the fall! You are the only person I know who has ever been offered a tenure track at six colleges at once!"

You just waved your hand. "I have it narrowed down to Miami and San Diego. The other offers were kind of bogus, to be honest."

"Either way, you'll be somewhere warmer than Chicago," Veronica said with a shrug.

"I will cheers to that," you said, tipping your nearly empty pint of beer to her nearly empty glass of chardonnay. "Now, I need to run home before I meet this guy John for a second date."

Veronica made a face and shook her head. "That's the most generic name ever. And he sounded boring when you described him."

You just sighed. "Well, he was boring, but giving someone a second chance never hurt anyone."

You waved down your waiter for the check and handed him cash for the drinks.

"Want to walk out with me?" Veronica asked, checking the time.

"You go ahead, I'm going to use the ladies' room before I head out. See you on Monday?"

"I can't wait to hear all about your class reunion!"

You just shook your head and waved over your shoulder as you went to use the restroom. When you finished washing your hands, you glanced in the mirror. You were having such a good hair and makeup day, it was almost a given that you'd look like a clown or a wet dog for the reunion tomorrow night.

You straightened out your short, blue dress and headed for the bar exit. You ducked past a server who was carrying a tray of drinks, almost bumping some of the patrons seated at the bar in the process.

But as you walked past the guy sitting on the end, you slowed down a little bit. Even from behind, you knew he was going to be handsome. He had broad shoulders and thick, wavy brown hair. Just what you liked.

Just what you'd loved, actually. Since college.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and glanced at him as you turned toward the door, but you stopped dead in your tracks.

The scars. You knew those scars by heart. You'd touched his cheek and his neck so many times, you'd be able to describe them in your sleep. You'd thought about his face more than you should have. You'd thought about his body next to yours. You'd imagined what could have been.

But now Bradley Bradshaw was right in front of you, leaning his forearms against the bar and watching sports highlights while he played with the label on his beer bottle.

Only now he was all grown up.

"Beer Boy?" you asked softly, and he spun in his seat to face you so quickly it made you smile.

He just gaped at you, his eyes softly searching your face and dipping down as far as your neck before he licked his lips and grinned.

"Sugar."

Your belly swooped, and you were afraid you actually gasped out loud. His voice was even deeper than you remembered. You took a step closer to him, and his grin lit up his eyes. God, you could remember everything with him. Every bittersweet feeling came flooding back.

"I can't believe it's you." A giggle escaped your lips as you spoke, and his grin faltered a bit as his eyes landed on your lips.

He had a mustache now, and his hair was a little shorter than it was ten years ago. And he was so big and impossibly handsome.

"It's me," he said, his eyes flicking back up to yours. "And I guess you really are Doctor Sugar now?"

"Yes," you said before you bit your lip, remembering how many times he had called you that.

He shook his head, and that crooked grin was back. "Chicago was lucky to have you."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as his eyes roamed your face. He looked good. He looked so fucking good.

"You're still in the Navy?" you managed to ask as you inched ever closer to him. He turned his stool a little more to face you, his legs splayed apart with one hand resting on his thigh.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw these days."

You looked him up and down in his fitted pants and black tee shirt that really hugged his chest and biceps. "I can just picture you in your uniform."

When your gaze settled on his face again, you saw hunger there that had you squeezing your thighs gently together.

"I wear a flight suit a lot of the time," he said in the raspiest tone you'd ever heard from him.

You pressed your lips together before you whispered, "You're just so much bigger now. You really filled out."

Part of you recognized that you should be embarrassed at saying that, but it felt like no time had passed at all. It felt like all those years ago you had turned back around, climbed back in bed with him and told him you never wanted to break up, ever.

"Yeah, I guess basic training will do that to a guy," he said casually, but his eyes were making you feel so warm. "Can I buy you a drink, Sugar?"

The fact that nobody had called you Sugar in the past ten years was not lost on you, but nothing had ever felt more right. You had missed him, thought about him frequently, too. Especially during those years you spent in Chicago.

"Yeah," you agreed with a slight nod, praying you weren't about to embarrass yourself. "As long as your girlfriend doesn't mind." He wasn't wearing a ring, but you needed to know for sure.

He just smirked. "Well, yeah, she would have absolutely minded if I was buying drinks for my beautiful ex-girlfriend. But we broke up two months ago, so I'm single."

"I see," you said, trying to bite back your smile, but you knew he was onto you.

"So what are you drinking?" he asked, already raising two fingers toward the bartender to get his attention.

"The good beer," you said softly.

And then Bradley turned toward you with a longing look that reminded you of ten years ago. "You still remember everything, Sugar?" he asked, his brows scrunching together as he took a deep breath and waited for you to answer.

"Everything," you confirmed with a nod.

"Another beer for you?" the bartender asked Bradley before he turned toward you as well.

"Make it two. Please," Bradley confirmed, and you shifted a little closer to him.

When the bartender returned with two bottles, Bradley shifted on his stool to stand.

"Have a seat," he told you, but you placed your hand on his very muscular chest and stopped him.

"No, stay where you are," you told him, pushing him gently back down. When he eased himself back against the stool, you tucked yourself closer so your hip was nudging the inside of his knee. "Is this okay?"

"Yep," he said, quickly grabbing both of the beers and handing you one. "It's okay," he added as his cheeks started to grow pink.

When he shifted around in his seat, his leg rubbed against you, and you needed to start a new conversation to keep from moaning.

"You're in town for the reunion?" you asked quickly.

"Yeah," he confirmed after taking a sip of beer. "I was in Virginia for work. It made sense to try to stop by. Where are you living these days?"

You laughed, and it seemed to make him more comfortable. "Like six streets over. I'm working at UVA."

"No way," he said with another grin. "You're teaching here?"

"Yeah, but only for another couple of weeks. I'm trying to decide between two tenure positions."

"Which schools?" he asked softly, and you couldn't help but think he kept intentionally bumping you with his knee.

"University of Miami and San Diego State."

His eyes went wide as he sucked in a short breath. "That's great," he told you, looking at you in awe now. "I still can't believe you teach math to a bunch twenty year old guys."

"Why not?" you asked with a laugh.

Bradley turned his head to face the bar and took a long drink of beer. He gave you side eye and said, "I would have died if you were my math teacher, Sugar. Trying to teach me calculus, looking like that? Please, I'd have failed the class."

"What? Why?"

"Come on," he said, turning fully back and giving you a playfully annoyed look. "You're just as gorgeous as you were ten years ago. Maybe moreso. I mean...you filled out, too."

Your mouth was hanging open and your heart was pounding erratically.

"But at least your students don't know about your math tattoo. So I guess they don't have it so bad. Me on the other hand? I wouldn't last a minute in your lecture."

"Bradley," you gasped, but he just kept his eyes on you while he finished his beer.

Your phone started vibrating in your clutch purse which you were gripping tightly in your sweaty hand. You set down your beer and pulled it out to see that John had been texting you.

"Shit," you muttered, and Bradley adjusted himself in his seat again, eyes still on you.

"You need to go?" he asked, and it sounded like he was dreading the answer.

"I...just need to send a quick text, actually," you replied, setting your purse down on the bartop and frantically typing back to John. "I'm just going to cancel my plans."

When you lowered your phone and set it down on your purse, he asked you, "Are you seeing someone then?"

"No," you replied quickly. "It was just a second date." You would have canceled plans with anyone to stay here longer.

Bradley's grin was slowly creeping back. "Did you just cancel a date for me?"

You scoffed playfully. "Yeah, but he was boring anyway."

"That'll never do. Not for you. You deserve the best."

You looked at him carefully, letting your palm rest on his knee. "Is that why I had you?"

"Hmm," he hummed teasingly. "I would assume so."

You just stood there for a minute, barely moving at all, except for your fingertips moving against his muscular thigh. "I missed you. When I was in Chicago," you whispered, and he was nodding right away.

"I missed you, too. Had a hard time at first. I thought about you a lot."

"I thought about you all the time," you replied, your heartbeat picking up in tempo again.

Bradley nudged you a little closer with his knee, and you willingly went. "I still think about you sometimes," he whispered.

You sighed softly, and he sat up a little straighter, his face closer to yours. You felt like you could melt against him, if you thought that was a good idea. Which it was not.

A loud group of college students entered the bar and made their way toward the crowded tables, jostling you and bumping your butt in the process. You stepped further into Bradley's personal space to make room, bumping both of his thighs with your hips.

His sharp intake of breath and slow exhale had you meeting his eyes and withdrawing your hand from the top of his thigh.

"No," he told you, grabbing your hand and then gently pressing it where it had been. You looked down and saw you were standing precariously close to him; if you moved your hand just a little bit, it would be on his zipper. "It's okay," he murmured, bringing his hand to your hip.

This felt very good.

"I like your mustache," you told him, blurting out the first idiotic thing that came to your mind. Of course you liked it. He looked great with it. You weren't even aware you actually liked facial hair before this moment.

"Thanks," he said softly, and his eyes grew wider as you brought your other hand up to run your fingers along his mustache. His lips parted, but he didn't move otherwise.

"You couldn't grow one of these in college," you told him with a laugh.

"No," he replied, his lips skimming along your fingertips. "Would have looked ridiculous."

Your soft laughter seemed to spur him on as his huge hand wrapped around your hip and settled on your lower back.

Oh god, you wanted him. So badly. You needed him. You had never stopped feeling this way about Bradley Bradshaw.

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

Bradley had often wondered what it would be like to see you again. At first the idea of it haunted him; it was the only thing he wanted, but he figured it was never going to happen.

Then as he got older, thoughts of you would jump into the forefront of his mind when he least expected it. He always figured you were doing everything you wanted to do. He thought you would be married by now. He was absolutely certain you would have found someone better than him.

But you made him better. He grew into a man because of you. Every girlfriend he had since you broke his heart should have honestly written you a thank you letter.

But the crazy thing was, Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that he still felt a connection to you right now. His heart was leaping in his chest, elation pouring through his body.

Your beautiful face was a few inches from his and you were touching his mustache. Your other hand was on his leg, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from guiding you closer with his palm on your lower back. Your gaze was still sharp, and you were just as witty as he remembered. And you were so perfect, he never wanted to stop looking at you.

"Maybe your mustache would have looked ridiculous ten years ago, but it looks good now," you told him. He wanted to kiss you. He thought he was going to, when you added, "You look so handsome."

"You're fucking gorgeous, Sugar," he told you, and he was treated to a radiant smile as your fingers rubbed the end of his mustache and trailed along to the faded scars on his cheek. "You always have been."

You were softly sighing as you examined him.

"You look like you want to ask me something," he told you, and you nodded the tiniest bit.

"Yeah," you confirmed with a soft laugh. "But I'm scared."

"Don't be scared. Just ask." He would be honest with you, no matter what you asked him.

"When you think about me... what do you think about?"

A montage of images rushed through his mind, and he swallowed hard. Your lips parted with a little gasp like you just knew some of his thoughts on the matter were completely filthy.

His cock was getting a little hard as he let his mind settle on the first time he got you off. "I think about that study room, Sugar. And how cute you looked in my bathrobe. And I think about how effortlessly you made me want to change my ways."

Bradley started to close the distance between you, and you cupped his cheek as your lips brushed his in the softest kiss.

"Beer Boy," you whispered, nudging his lips with yours again. But you were already pulling away as he was trying to get closer.

Then you asked, "Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I start thinking about you?"

"Tell me."

You licked your lips before you said, "I think about your Navy desk lamp. And I think about your bedroom door. Nobody else has ever done anything like that for me."

Bradley kissed your lips nudging your nose with his. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Sugar."

You threaded your fingers through his hair, and Bradley was absolutely aching for you now. He wanted to take you to his hotel room. He wanted to make you feel so good.

You had your hand incredibly close to his cock as you looked him in the eye and said, "And when I think about you, Bradley, I think about the fact that nobody else has made me cum as good in the last ten years."

"Shit," he groaned, growing harder by the second as you sighed and moved your hand higher.

Bradley had to take your hand in his to stop you. But it was your wide pupils that had him shifting his right knee so it rubbed against your core.

You sucked in a deep breath and gasped, gently grinding yourself against him as your eyes drifted closed.

"Sugar," he groaned. "Please tell me you're coming back to my hotel room."

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

Ahhhh!!!! They are back! Seemingly picking up right where they left off! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 2

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sailor-aviator · 8 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Death of parents, angst, talk of ghosts and the supernatural, Big Brother!Bradley...I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I went ahead and wrote this. I am just as interested as y'all to see where this fic goes lol As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are encouraged and appreciated! I'll be doing Drabble Sunday this weekend to celebrate my first 100 followers! So get your requests ready!! 18+ ONLY!! And you can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

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The ocean was a deep, terrifying swirl of forgotten pasts and harrowing mysteries. The vicious pull of the waves sending many sailors to their graves for thousands of years without mercy. No, the ocean was not kind. It was the source of life on the best of occasions and cruel and unforgiving on the worst.

Your father had been a sailor. Working for a large shipping company hauling various goods from one end of the sea to the other, he was often gone for long stretches of time. After months of being away, it was always a joyous reunion when he would return. He would swing you up in his arms, twirling you until your little giggles turned into full blown laughter. He would set you back down on your feet and greet your mother with an affectionate kiss to her temple before tugging you both into his arms.

“My best girls are always here to greet me when I get home,” he’d grin. Your mother would hum, running her hands through the beard he’d grow during his time away.

“Come inside,” she’d say, leading you both into your modest, seaside home. Your father would sit at the table as your mother fixed him a plate. He would tell her that he was more than capable of fixing his own plate, but she would wave him off and place the food gently in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head.

One day, when you were a little over four years old, your father had come home from a voyage with a scraggly looking boy who looked to be about twice your age. Your father had been dragging the boy by the scruff of his collar when you and your mother had come out to greet him. The boy had dark brown hair that had been bleached from time in the sun and steady, brown eyes that held steady as he took in the house before him.

“Found this one on the coasts of the Carolinas,” your father had said with a grin, letting go of the boy’s shirt. He stumbled forward, almost falling headfirst onto the ground. He looked back at the older man with a scowl before turning to look at the two of you.

“My, don’t you look a sight?” your mother had said with a small smile as she took the boy in. He puffed out his chest in a bid to make himself seem bigger and your mother had laughed. You took the few, small steps up to him, taking his hand in yours excitedly.

“My name is y/n,” you chirped up at him. “What’s yours?”

The boy studied you with pursed lips.

“Bradley,” he muttered. Your father had let out a booming laugh, causing Bradley to jump.

“That’s the first answer we’ve been able to get out of him since we caught him rifling through our supplies on the ship!” he guffawed. “C’mon now, boy. Let’s go get us some supper.”

And so your family had taken in Bradley Bradshaw as one of your own, and he settled in fairly quickly amongst the rest of you. He would help your mother out with different chores around the house, and when your father was home, he would take you and Bradley down by the docks to teach you the ways of sailing.

“You want to tie it like this, sweetheart,” he’d say to you as he guided your hands on how to move the rope. “It’s one of the most important knots a sailor needs to know. It’s called the ‘bowline.’”

“Like this?” Bradley had asked, holding up his own rope for your father to inspect.

“Atta boy, Rooster!” your father had laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Bradley had earned the nickname not too long after he had joined your little family. Your father had just gotten back from another transporting job. He had been woken from his sleep by sounds coming from the kitchen. When he had stumbled into the room, he had seen Bradley already working on feeding the fire for the day.

“The sun isn’t even up yet, Bradley,” your father had laughed as the boy shrunk in on himself. “I doubt even the rooster is awake! Looks like you’re gunnin’ for his job.”

And the name had stuck.

Now, Bradley was more confident in his place within your family. Now, Bradley was much taller and his form was filling out thanks to the many hours spent doing the heavy lifting around your home.

“Keep this up,” your father started, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, “and maybe I’ll take you with me on a job here soon.”

Bradley’s face lit up. “Do you mean it?”

“Let’s see, you're about, what, sixteen now?”

“Yes, sir,” Bradley nodded, a smile etched onto his face. Your father nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, you should be ready here soon.”

You looked down at the rope in your hands with a frown. “I’ll never get this. Why do I even have to learn this?”

“Because, my little minnow,” your father smiled, “it’s an important skill to know and have.”

“But Mama says that women aren’t even allowed on ships,” you muttered. Your father smoothed the hair out of your face with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s true, women were once considered bad luck to have on ships, and many men still consider them to be so,” he began. “But times are changing, and maybe one day soon you’ll get to set sail with us.”

“Really?” you asked him, eyes filled with hope. He laughed and nodded, turning to look at Bradley.

“C’mon you two. Let’s go see what Mother’s been cooking.”

The three of you trudged up the hill to your home where your mother was already standing outside to greet you. Greeting her with a tender kiss, your father ushed you and Bradley into the house.

When supper was finished and the table had been cleared, you all gathered around the small fireplace. Your father sat in his favorite chair while Bradley and your mother took up the other two. You sat by your fathers feet, resting your head against his knee. The smell from your father’s pipe permeated the room and left you with a sense of fond familiarity as he slowly stroked your hair.

“Papa,” you said, “will you tell us a story?”

“And what kind of story would you like to hear, little minnow?”

“An adventure!” Bradley had grinned. You shook your head.

“No,” you argued. “A ghost story.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, y/n,” the older boy scoffed. Your father hummed with a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be so sure o’ that, Rooster,” he smiled. Bradley fixed him with an incredulous look.

“Surely you can’t be serious?”

“As the dead, lad,” your father said solemnly, rubbing the bowl of his pipe. “Ghosts walk amongst the living, as real as you or I. Some even sail the seas, waiting for the day Davy Jones lets them pass into the great beyond.”

“What does Davy Jones even have to do with the dead,” Bradley huffed. Your father arched an eyebrow at him.

“He has everything to do with the dead at sea, Bradley,” he replied softly. “Davy Jones is a powerful man. Not quite human, not quite god. He’s as cruel and unforgiving as the sea, and some even think he was born from the waves that beat against the rocks by the shore. They say his very will controls the tides, and any man foolish enough to invoke his wrath is met with a gruesome fate.”

“Those are just superstitions,” Bradley countered with a scowl.

“You’re free to believe that,” your father began, “but you’d be a fool to. No sailor with a lick of sense is going to take that chance. Davy Jones will come for us all.”

“Why does Davy Jones stay at sea, Papa?” you chirped.

“No one is quite sure,” your father mused. “Perhaps he’s searching for treasure.”

“Would you ever go looking for treasure?” you questioned. Your father smiled.

“I’ve already found my treasure,” he said, casting a fond smile to your mother, who blushed under his gaze.

“Have you ever seen Davy Jones?” you prodded with wide eyes. Your father chuckled, patting your head in reassurance.

“No, little minnow. But those who have are few and far in between. Davy Jones isn’t in the business of letting witnesses stay alive.”

“That’s enough, Maverick,” your mother had chided. Your father had the good sense to look sheepish. Maverick was a name your father had earned during his time at sea, and your mother only called him that when she was cross. Usually, she called him by his given name; Peter or Pete.

“My apologies, Penny, my dear,” he said. Looking back down at you, he offered a smile. “Alright, y/n, it’s time for bed. You too, Bradley. I need you up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

You and Bradley bid your mother goodnight as your father followed you down the hall. When you had crawled under your blanket, he had made sure to tuck you in tight.

“I didn’t scare you too bad, did I, little minnow?” he asked. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, Papa. But, what if you meet Davy Jones one day?”

“That won’t be for a good, long while, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. You nodded, resting your head back down onto your pillow. Your father leaned over to peck your forehead before standing to walk out the door.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said. You smiled.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

A good, long while was not long enough in the end. It was six years later when you got the news that your father’s ship had gone down in a storm off the coast of the Caribbean. Your mother had been beside herself, crying all hours of the day as you and Bradley did your best to stay strong for her sake.

Bradley had caught you crying by the fireplace one night after you thought everyone had gone to bed. He sat next to you, and pulled you to his side as you cried into his shoulder.

“I miss him so much,” you sobbed.

“I know,” he said softly. “I do too.”

“He should be here.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “We didn’t even get to bury him.”

“I know, Guppy,” he sighed, hugging you tighter. Bradley wasn’t very good with words, and he sure as hell wasn’t good with emotions. “But he wouldn’t want us to dwell on this, you know that.”

“I know,” you sniffled, rubbing at your eyes. “He always loved the sea.”

“He loved being here, too,” Bradley countered. You looked up to see his own eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Your mother had followed your father not long after. She had stopped eating and barely took a sip when you begged her to drink some water. She would stay perched by the window in the bedroom she once shared with your father, just staring out at the sea as if willing him to return. It had ended up being a fever that had taken her one early, autumn morning. It was your turn to be inconsolable as you once again found yourself buried into Bradley’s shoulder as he held you tightly. You buried your mother on the hill that overlooked the sea, forever waiting for your father to return home.

You and Bradley had stayed by her grave until the sun began to set.

The following days were filled with familiar motions and quiet sobs hidden behind closed doors long after the stars began to shine in the night sky. One night, you had set a bowl of stew in front of Bradley after he had come home from working at the docks. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes before Bradley pulled you to your feet. You went to say something, but he motioned for you to be quiet as he pulled you through the front door and out of the house.

“Where are we going?” you hissed quietly.

“Just trust me,” he shot back, dragging you down to the beach. The cool sand rubbed against the soles of your feet as you followed him, and he stopped you when you both were standing at the edge of the water. The water felt like ice as it licked aginst your ankles, and you felt a shudder run up your spine.

“There!” he called out, gesturing towards the open sea. You looked, but saw nothing but the white caps of waves.

“I don’t see anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. Bradley offered you a smile.

“That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough,” he murmured. He bent down, pointing his finger so that it was directly in your line of sight. “There, do you see it now?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see what it was he was looking at. “Rooster, I don’t-”

“I see them,” he interrupted you, smiling confidantly. You fixed him with a puzzled look. “I see Mav and Penny just over there past the waves.”

Your heart stopped and hot tears licked at your eyes as you looked back at the churning waters. It was then that you saw what Bradley had been talking about. You saw your mother and your father with smiles on their faces, staring at each other with adoration clear as day on their faces. You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you looked back to see them waving at you. You huffed a laugh and smiled back at them with a wave of your own.

“Looks like Davy Jones let Mav come back for his treasure,” Bradley said. You threw yourself into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you, Bradley.”

The sea could be cold and cruel, but you had the strength to weather the storm.

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writingonleaves · 9 months

Text

i tell you that i think i'm falling back in love with you - luca fantilli

pairing: luca fantilli x original female character

warnings: swearing, slight angst, mostly fluff, like one mention of COVID, proofread maybe once, probably too many taylor swift references

word count: 9.2k

based on: "the alcott" by the national ft. taylor swift + "this love" by taylor swift. title from "the alcott"

author's note: first one ahhh!!! had this done months ago when i saw that day in the life video the umich social team posted of luca and then promptly went on a six hour plane ride and banged this out. apologies if some of the details are inaccurate — i tried my best though some are also made purposefully to fit with the narrative

*****

Melody Lin rarely talks about it.

In the instance that it gets brought up, she just shrugs, always giving just a brief overview because there’s no point in summing up 18 years of history in a few sentences, especially when she knows if she thinks about it too much and talks about it out loud she’ll get emotional.

Growing up in the suburbs of Toronto was the typical suburban experience. She grew up only a street and a 2 minute car ride from her best friend Shayla and even though Shayla ended up going to University of Michigan and she went to Northwestern, they remained the closest of friends. Melody’s close with the whole Gallo family to the point where she just walks in and no one bats an eye anymore. Wherever Melody is, Shayla isn’t far behind, and vice versa.

Being close with the Gallo family means she’s been to almost every family gathering, every big family event. Everyone in their families knows the other because the two girls are so close that they’re pretty much sisters.

Melody doesn’t even remember the day she met Luca Fantilli.

Luca is one of Shayla’s many cousins, only two years younger than Shayla. His family lives around a 10 minute drive away, so their parents love to gather on the weekends, therefore bringing the kids close together. Age wise, it goes Shayla, then Luca two years later, then Adam and Katie, Shayla’s younger sister, are the same age. There’s other cousins, older and younger, but these four have always been close, finding themselves naturally in a group when their families get together.

That means that naturally, Melody grew up also being close with the four, coming by many weekends when the cousins gathered and being dragged into their shenanigans, from playing tag when they were kids to piling in a car to get ice cream when they were teenagers. And they loved her too. Katie loved having another older sister figure with Melody being more calm compared to Shayla. Adam loved how funny she was and how no matter how much shit they gave her, she’d brush it all off with an easy smile.

And then Luca. Like his brother and cousins, he loved how friendly she was. During the few years they overlapped in the same school, she always said hi to him in the hallways, never treating him or his brother any differently just because they were younger. When he needed a ride, whether it was to the rink or gym or that he just wanted to get out of the house, he could always text her and she would drive him, even if she gave him flack for it. And even though she started out as just Shayla’s friend, they quickly grew to have their own friendship, texting from time to time even when he was at Kimball for two years and she went off to college. He loved how giving she was and how smart she was and how no one ever really seemed to have a bad word to say about her. He’d always light up at seeing her and looked forward to the crushing hugs she would give him, especially after a few months of not seeing each other.

Those weekends are imprinted in Melody’s brain, when the Gallo house is loud and lively and all the adults are chatting and laughing and the kids are off doing whatever they want, her and Shayla always being put in charge because they’re the oldest of the five. Sometimes there were guest stars — Shayla’s high school boyfriend, Adam’s high school girlfriend, whoever the hell Luca was dating at the time, Katie and her best friend — but it was mostly just the five of them.

It was always Shay, Mel, Luca, Adam and Katie.

(If you ask Luca now, he probably fell in love with her back when they were teenagers, somewhere between when she would drive him and his brother home after a rough practice and let them rant and when she’d laugh so loudly by the pool during the summer that she’d snort)

(Melody obviously loved everything about Shayla, thought Adam was one of the sweetest boys she’s ever met and adored Katie like a younger sibling. But even from the start, she had a special place in her heart for Luca, with his infectious smile and his positive energy. Somewhere along the way, he stopped being just Shayla’s cousin)

That friendship strengthened when he and Adam signed a commitment to play with the Chicago Steel starting Melody’s sophomore year at Northwestern. Shayla was thankful that her best friend was there for her two younger cousins, though the two hockey players never needed anyone to look after them. Since Melody had a car and her and Shayla’s breaks often overlapped, Melody would grab Adam and Luca in Chicago and then drive through Ann Arbor to pick Shayla up as they all headed home. The drive wasn’t all that bad, especially with the company.

Somewhere during the start of her sophomore year, she and Luca confessed to each other that they had feelings towards each other and started dating. It started out well. Inbetween her classes and college commitments and his practices and games, they’d find time to see each other. It helped that they both had cars as well.

There was this cafe / book bar place between them called The Alcott that she had discovered by a recommendation from a friend who lived around the area that wasn’t closed because of COVID. That started to become the place for them to meet. Whether she had to drag along her laptop and notebooks or not, it started to become their place. She tried to go to as many of his games as she could and he tried to come to campus to be with her, even when she was cramming for exams and couldn’t give him much attention.

She’d feel bad during the days where she wasn’t much fun, but he didn’t care. Being in her presence was enough, he’d always say with an encouraging kiss and a promise for milkshakes after dinner as a treat before he’d have to go back to Chicago. She met his teammates and he met her college friends and they tried and tried to make it work. When the Chicago Steel won the Clark Cup, she made it a priority to go to watch the final, not having been able to go to his last regular season game and all of playoffs due to final projects and labs. At the end, she had leaned over the boards to crush Adam in a tight hug before kissing Luca sweetly.

And then two weeks after that, when summer was about to start — which should’ve been the time they would be at their best and brightest together, things started to fall apart. Though, when Melody looks back at it now, things were slowly falling apart for a bit before then. Pointed questions about what each other’s plans were for the night when they could’ve been together, weak excuses for skipping the nightly FaceTime call, just generally not as much effort from both sides.

Even throughout it all, she still deeply cared about him. That didn’t change even during their last argument that led to their break up.

“Mel, I don’t know what you want me to do at this point,” Luca says, pacing around her room and running his hair through his hair.

“I don’t ask for much,” she says, biting her lip, watching him pace and trying to keep her control. “I know hockey keeps you busy. I get it. I knew what I was signing up for. But I didn’t hear from you for a week, Luca. Not a call. Not even a good morning text. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“I told you I was going to be busy, angel.” Even the pet name doesn’t soften her. She starts raising her voice.

“Goddammit, Luca. I know! But guess what? I’m also busy too. You think college is easy? I don’t know if I’ve slept for more than 5 hours a night this last month. But I still make the time.”

“Do you?” His eyes flash with something she’s never seen from him before. He’s not quite yelling, but he’s not talking at a normal volume either. “When’s the last time we went out to dinner? When’s the last time before the final that you came to one of my games? Jackson asked me before the final if we were still together since he hadn’t seen you. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

“Since when the fuck do you care about what anyone has to say?”

“Since all of their girlfriends are in the stands every week!”

She flinches. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to playoffs but you told me it was okay. I didn’t know you felt that way because you don’t talk to me anymore. I can’t read your mind. I’m trying my best here.”

“You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” She whispers.

“This. Us. It’s clearly not working.”

“Luca.”

He sits down on the chair across from her and puts his head in his hands momentarily. “You’re right. We barely talk. We’re both so busy. The last thing I want is for you to resent me.”

“So that’s it?” She croaks out.

His eyes are watery. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be, angel.”

“You’re the one making this hard!” She bites her lip and looks up to keep the tears from falling, which isn’t working because a couple tears still slip out. She fights a brief battle with herself and then deflates. “I’m always going to be your biggest supporter.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Mel.”

“I mean it. I meant it years ago when we were kids. I mean it now. I’ll mean it forever.”

He laughs hollowly. “This sucks.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Do you think we could still be friends?”

She tries to smile. “Well, I’m still best friends with your cousin and that’s not gonna change. So I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She swallows. “I need time though, if we want to be friends in the future.”

“I get it. Yeah.” He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs dejectedly. “I’m sorry too.”

“Can I get one more hug?”

The hug is already sad enough. The kiss in her hair has her crying into his chest.

It was tough that summer especially, because she still wanted to spend time with Shayla and she also knew that Shayla still wanted to see Luca. But it was still too fresh, so when she knew that Luca was coming by, she avoided going to Shayla’s, which her best friend understood. She took Adam out for ice cream a couple of times, genuinely wanting to see how he was doing and catch up and everything was good and normal as they steered away from topics that were still fresh. Except during one hug as she dropped him off, where he whispered in her ear, “I know it’s too soon. I completely get it. But I know Luca would love to see you before you head back to school.”

(She doesn’t end up seeing him)

Junior year comes and goes. She has a great time despite the hours of studying for exams and the stress of classes. She makes new friends, gets closer with her old ones, collects new memories and laughs until there’s no sound coming out of her mouth. She sometimes wakes up with a hangover, but has to trudge to the library anyway to cram for a Monday morning exam. The first time she goes to The Alcott post break-up, she tries to sit in the spot by the corner and she has to leave within 5 minutes so she doesn’t have a meltdown in public.

Shayla tells her that Luca and Adam are both officially committed to play at Michigan next year, and she’s not sure if she should text them. She ends up texting them both separately right when they post on Instagram though because she’s so happy and excited and proud of them, even if Luca isn’t hers anymore.

i heard about the good news!! congrats on umich (officially)!!

Thanks Mel!! So good to hear from you. I hope all is good at Northwestern

all’s good here! seriously, luca. i’m so proud of you.

He simply had liked the text and it was enough for the both of them. It had to be enough.

She tried her best to steer away from hearing about him, but it was really hard, especially when both him and Adam were doing so well in hockey and were the talk of the town, especially back home. They always had been, but nowadays it was more and more and it was bittersweet to hear.

She didn’t come back home for the summer of her senior year, her internship leading her to New York City. And while it was sad because she couldn’t see Shayla, who herself was doing an internship in Detroit, it gave her a bit of relief that she wasn’t going to be in her hometown when a large reason she calls it home is because of the boy who she had given her heart to. She had fun in New York, went on a couple of dates — which was the most she’s done with her romantic life since her breakup — but while her friends were living up their summers and she was cheering them on, she couldn’t shake the feeling of the younger Italian hockey player away from her mind. She hated that she couldn’t shake him off.

(You’ve been friends for almost two decades, Shayla would remind her. Of course you’re not gonna get over it quickly. There’s too much history there)

As Melody entered her senior year, she set out a goal to have fun. Work hard, of course, but also to have fun and really enjoy her last year. With parts of her college experience being interrupted by the pandemic, she felt like it was only right to give herself some time before she’d be in labs and research the rest of her life.

She still followed Luca on social media, so she saw his Snapchat stories and his Instagram posts. He looked like he was having a blast at Michigan and she honestly couldn’t have been any happier for him, even if there was always a stab of something in her heart seeing him pop up on her feed. She still drove through Ann Arbor during school breaks to pick up Shayla, and now Adam and Luca as well when they didn’t have to stay for hockey commitments. Shayla tried telling her friend that she didn’t have to, but Melody always waved her off. Luca texted her happy birthday and she did the same and she ended up crying in the shower both times.

Shayla had convinced her to come to a Michigan vs Michigan State hockey game and Melody didn’t really have an excuse, since she was gonna drive up that morning from Northwestern to go home for winter break. She had been hesitant, not wanting to overstep but Shayla had just laughed in her face. Come to Michigan, stay the night with me, and then we’ll all head back to Ontario in the morning. Shayla had even gotten Adam and Luca to text her to convince her, with Luca’s text being the final push

Heard from Shay and Adam that you were hesitant on coming to the game. If that hesitancy is because of me, please don’t let it be. It’ll be a fun one.)

The game is fun and thrilling, just like Luca promised it would be. Melody’s met some of Shayla’s college friends before and they’re no less welcoming than they always are. After the game ends, Shayla and her are walking back to her apartment when Shayla stops. Adam just texted me, she says. They’re all at one of the hockey houses and they want to meet you. Let’s stop by. Melody stills for a moment before letting Shayla lead her in the opposite direction. She knows Shayla knows some of the guys, but she’s never met any of them and she doesn’t want to make it awkward.

But that thought immediately goes away as Adam hugs her and spins her around as soon as they walk in, causing her to laugh and Shayla to pout playfully. Adam just rolls his eyes after setting Melody down. Shay, I see you all the time, he says. Melody gets on her tiptoes and kisses him quickly on the cheek, rolling her eyes as he playfully wipes it off. He leads them into the house and Melody’s thrown into a round of introductions and she’s a bit overwhelmed but she’s smiley and friendly and congratulates them all on the win. She’s immediately enraptured in a brief conversation with Nolan Moyle, Mark Estapa and Luke Hughes and she pretends to not see the other guys eyeing Luca with a knowing look.

Melody Lin rarely talks about it. She wonders how much Luca Fantilli does, especially since they all seem to know who she is.

She would be the slightest bit uncomfortable, but a majority of them are younger than her and she knows how to deal with the rowdiness of hockey boys. So weirdly enough, she feels right at home, even though it’s her first time here.

When she finally makes her way to Luca, she smiles, even if it’s a bit dimmed. She’s keenly aware of eyes on her but she tries to ignore them as she hugs him tightly, trying not to breathe in his cologne too much.

“Good game,” she mutters into his ear before pulling away.

“Thanks, angel.”

She kinda wants to kill him. He lost his right to call her that when he broke up with her. But she just smiles before turning to introduce herself to Ethan Edwards.

When she pulls up to Adam and Luca’s place the next morning with a big yawn, Shayla in the seat next to her, Adam hands Shayla a hot chocolate and she’s pleasantly surprised when Luca hands her an iced coffee. She takes a sip as they dump their bags in the trunk. A latte with two pumps of vanilla syrup. He still remembers.

She hates him. She loves him. She’ll always love him

(She watches the game on her laptop and sighs sadly when Michigan’s run at the Frozen Four is cut short. She texts in the group chat consisting of Shayla, Katie, Adam, Luca and her rather than individually.

💛💙proud of you both always

When Adam wins the Hobey Baker the day after, she immediately calls him, not expecting him to answer and ready to leave a voicemail. But he answers after two rings, and the first thing he asks is if they can switch to FaceTime. Suddenly, her screen is filled with Adam with his shades on in the Florida sun with the disgusting mullet. She just grins and congratulates him while he’s positively beaming. He shows her the trophy briefly and she hears some of his teammates yelling their greetings and she just laughs at all the chaos. She lets him go after another round of congratulations and tries not to let her smile fade when Luca comes on the screen with a wave.

Her heart aches.)

Graduation week is crazy and bittersweet and wonderful as she says goodbye to her younger friends and holds on to make some last minute memories with her best friends before her family and loved ones come to celebrate officially at the ceremony. She has dinner with her parents, her older sister Elena, Shayla and Shayla’s parents the night before her school convocation. She cheers for her friends when they walk across the stage the next morning, tries not to trip when she walks across and honestly kind of blacks out. Shespots her family in the stands purely from Shayla waving like crazy and laughs, waving back. Through all the chaos, she finds her family afterwards and pauses.

Because there’s Luca. Dressed in a white short sleeved button down and blue jeans, hair out of a baseball cap for once and standing there with a sheepish smile, a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers in his hand.

Why is he here?

She tears her eyes away from him as she hugs her parents and sister with a big smile. She squeals as she hugs Shayla, swaying side by side, reflecting back to late April when Shayla was the one graduating and the positions were reversed.

But all she can see is Luca. You, you, you, her mind whispers.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

He shrugs. “Wanted to surprise you.” He hugs her and she can’t help but smile being tucked into his chest. “Congrats, Mel. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” She mutters, blinking as he gives her the flowers. “These are beautiful. Jesus.”

“Here, let me hold something for you.” He takes her bag off her shoulder as well as her diploma out of her hands as she adjusts the three bouquets of flowers she’s gotten, trying not to crush any of them.

“Picture time!” Melody’s mom exclaims and then there’s a flurry of smiling and picture taking and lighting and angles and every combination possible, ending with Melody and Luca.

(When her mom sends the pictures later that night, she blinks at how couply they look. There’s a particular picture where she’s laughing at something Shayla said off camera and he’s looking at her like he might still be in love with her)

They stop by her apartment briefly so they can change before they all go to dinner. Apparently, everyone else knew Luca was coming because no one bats an eye as he comes along to their dinner. She’ll have to talk to Shayla about that later.

And it’s good, really. The conversation is easy and the food is good and she tries to ignore everytime her elbows brush against Luca’s and notes when his arm is around her chair so she doesn't lean back. They discuss the plan for the next day where Melody is just planning on packing before the all university commencement the day after. Her family is planning to explore the Chicago area while Shayla is attending another friend’s commencement at University of Chicago. When Luca’s asked of his plans, he hesitates. She doesn’t know what makes her say her next sentence, but she says it.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I could use another set of hands to help me pack.”

His head whips to her, mouth open a little. She tries to smile assuringly. He nods. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

She snorts. “Packing is not fun ever, but I like the enthusiasm.”

The next morning, she picks him up from the hotel all of them are staying at (“I’m in a room with Shayla and it’s a nightmare. How does someone’s shit get everywhere in such a short period of time?”) and drives in the opposite direction from her apartment. It takes him a surprisingly short amount of time to realize that they’re going in the wrong direction. When he asks where they’re going, she bites her lip.

“I’m craving one last iced vanilla latte from The Alcott.”

Silence and then a small chuckle. “Are their blueberry muffins still as good?”

“Yup.”

“We gotta get some of those too then.”

And conversation is surprisingly easy. They talk about Michigan’s run to the Frozen Four and how that was cut short but what an amazing season they had, Adam’s World Championship win with Canada and his upcoming draft (she was invited months ago by Adam and the entire Fantilli family to Nashville, to which everyone but her was not surprised about), her last year at Northwestern, his first year at Michigan, and anything and everything in between. It’s so easy that it almost aches, the familiarity of The Alcott and what it means to her and what it means to them as she watches him order for the both of them and pays even though she tries to fight. She wanders over to the corner — their old spot — because she wants to savor this one more time before she has to let go. Before she has to let go of this place and this boy. Because she can’t keep him. He was never hers to begin with.

“Do you remember when we were snowed in here?”

She turns her head to look back at him before letting out a small chuckle at the memory. “Yeah. You were panicking because you thought your game was still on and I was surprised when it was cancelled, considering it’s Chicago and they never cancel anything due to snow.”

“And then they gave out free coffee refills and you were probably the happiest person in this place, just studying and humming along or scribbling in your journal.”

“We must’ve been here for, what, 6 hours?”

“Probably more, to be honest. Donna wouldn’t let a single person even think about driving until the storm had passed.”

She smiles, even if a bit sad. “Good times.”

He hums in agreement, and if she was looking at him and not out the window, she would notice that he’s looking at her fondly. “You’re a college graduate.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You’re right. It’s not, because we all knew you were always the smart one. But it is a big deal because it’s just crazy how time moves so fast.”

“How do you think I feel watching you and Adam get old and go to college? Not that you were innocent before, but Adam sent me some snapchats of your shenanigans at frat parties and sometimes I genuinely wonder how you’re alive and kicking for practice the next morning.”

“Fucking Adam. Always painting me in a bad light,” Luca scoffs, before clearing his throat. “How have you been? How do you feel?”

She lets out something between a laugh and a sigh. “Okay, I think. Overwhelmed. Excited. Scared. Thankful. Thinking about all the stuff I have to pack.”

“Do you have most of it done?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. That’s what you’re here for.”

“Glad I could be of service.”

She stands up with her drink. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Once they get to her place, Melody puts Luca to work immediately, instructing him on which boxes to put things in as she cleans up her room. They work well together. When he’s stepping behind her to get somewhere or something, he always touches her back or elbow or shoulder gently and he doesn’t get annoyed at her indecisiveness on how to pack things, just dutifully following all her instructions. They’re about 70% done when her roommates Alison and Carey come in briefly and they meet Luca and they know exactly who he is but Melody’s thankful that they don’t let it show and gives them a meaningful look as they leave.

By the time most of her things are packed, it’s dinner time and she suggests that they drive to another one of her favorite spots on campus to grab a bite. A little sweaty, a little exhausted, she has to stop in her tracks when he shoots her the sweetest smile, adjusting the hat on his head and washing his hands before they head out.

And because it’s only seniors left on campus, it’s not surprising when she runs into a couple people she knows, weaving through to order and find a place to sit at the bar. More often than not she’s stopped and she introduces Luca to everyone and he’s smiling and she knows that everyone is immediately charmed because it’s Luca and that’s always been his effect on people, ever since they were kids. He’s wearing a Michigan hat and gets some chirps that he takes in stride and that make her giggle.

(If you were to ask Luca, it makes complete sense that everyone they’ve run into has nothing but a smile on their faces. Melody’s always been able to make anyone she’s come into contact with fall in love with her)

She heads to the bathroom at one point and when she walks back out, she sees a drop dead gorgeous blonde girl sitting where she sat and Melody’s not surprised but her heart falls a bit, watching the girl clearly flirt with him, if her body language indicates anything. She observes for a couple of seconds before taking a deep breath and walking back. She platers on the largest smile she can muster, her lips softening to a more genuine one when she sees him perk up.

“And there she is! The reason I’m here and the star herself.”

She can’t help but chuckle. “You’re sweet.” She turns to the girl. “Hey, I’m Melody. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Connie. Nice to meet you too. You graduated this weekend too?”

“Yup. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“Congratulations to you as well.”

Connie turns to Luca and Melody tries her best to not roll her eyes. “It was nice to meet you, Luca. I hope Melody gives you a proper tour of Evanston.”

“Best tour guide there is,” Luca responds easily, and Connie slips out of her chair with one last smile before Melody sits back in her seat. “Cool it with the death glare.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.”

She takes a sip of her coke, determinedly staring at his water. “You can flirt with anyone you want.”

“She was flirting. I wasn’t flirting back.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” she tries to tease lightly. “I’m sure girls fall at your feet at Michigan.” I know what that’s like, she thinks to herself. “Speaking of, anyone I should know about? Just so I can prepare myself for when I get jumpscared when I take you out for ice cream.”

“First of all, that’s an Adam move. And nope. No one’s caught my eye.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Surprising.”

He shrugs.

She hums, letting it go and steering towards safer conversation topics.

In the car on the way back to the hotel, she gets the courage.

“Luca.”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you break up with me?”

A sharp inhale. The words linger in the air. She grips her steering wheel.

“I don’t know.”

Silence. A disbelieving scoff.

“Thanks, Luca.”

“No, no. Give me a second. I truly mean it, especially now looking back. At the time I thought it was what was best so that we would stay friends and not grow to hate each other, but when I think about it more and more, that reasoning is shit so I don’t know anymore. You deserved better.”

(Honestly, it’s probably good that they’re hashing this out now. She was far too nice to him two years ago.)

“If I deserved better why didn’t you do better?” She whispers. “Luca, you didn't even give me a chance to fix it.”

“I know. I know. I panicked and I ran and I lost you.”

“You’ve never lost me. I’m best friends with your cousin. I’ve driven you and Adam to and from school. I’m still here. The last thing I wanted to do that night was break up. You practically jumped at the chance..”

“But I lost you in the way it mattered.” He reaches over to grab her hand and she doesn’t pull away. He takes that as a good sign. “I fucked it all up, didn’t I? All this time we could’ve been together but we weren’t because I just ran away.”

“Why did you break up with me?” She repeats stoically.

“I guess, I guess I got it into my head that you deserve so much better than me. I mean, I was playing junior hockey and you were at fucking Northwestern and you’ve always been so much smarter than I am which I love, don’t get me wrong. You are so, so beautiful and kind to everyone and generous and you’ve literally been there for me since forever and… I just felt like I was holding you back and you deserve better and-“

“It’s not your choice to determine what I think I deserve,” she says firmly. “If you had just talked to me about it…Luca. All I wanted was for you to talk to me that night. And the few weeks before. I loved you for who you were, junior hockey and all or whatever the fuck else you said. Do you forget that we grew up together? I’ve seen it all, and I’ve stuck by you because I loved you.”

He takes a deep breath. “Do you know why no one’s caught my eye at Michigan?”

She freezes, having a feeling what the answer is but hoping it isn’t true (or hoping it is true). “Why?”

“Because the only girl who I see myself with is in Chicago.”

She swallows roughly. “You can’t just say that shit, Luca. It’s not fair.”

“I know, I know. I just-I…I’m sorry. I know I’m not being fair. I just…I miss you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was coming to your graduation but I couldn’t miss it. I really am so proud of you. I’ve always been your biggest fan.”

She stops at a red light and looks at him. “I hated you for a bit.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“But looking back, I don’t think I ever hated you. I was just sad and heartbroken.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. He had always vowed to himself that he would never hurt her. The light turns green and she drives again.

She speaks up again. “Everyone always told me time is the best thing after a breakup. I didn’t know what they meant until I did. And seeing you got easier everytime, and I still wanted the best for you, even if I wasn’t the one by your side anymore. I still do. But at the same time, I wanted to forget you.”

“Would you consider trying again?”

“Luca-”

“I, just hear me out. I fucked up. I know that. God, I knew that the second I walked out of your place that night. I love you. I still love you. And I know I’m being unfair about all of this. But I just…my life is so much better with you by my side. I’ve realized that more than ever these last two years. And if you don’t feel the same way anymore, I get it. We can keep being friends or I can give you space if you want…whatever you need. I just had to say it. I love you. I can’t really see myself ever stopping, to be honest.”

In the middle of his little speech, she had pulled into the hotel and parked, killing the engine. It’s silent for a few moments as she mulls over his words.

“You really hurt me, Luca. I don’t know if I love you anymore.” His face starts falling, but she quickly continues. “But I think I could. Love you again, I mean. Maybe. But it has to be different this time.” He perks up but she holds up a hand and he listens. “We need to communicate better. We have to talk through our problems when they come up, not run away from them. We can’t just sweep things under the rug.”

“Deal.”

“I’m gonna be working in Chicago and you’re gonna be in Ann Arbor. The distance is still gonna be like before. We’re probably gonna be away from each other more than we’re together.”

“Worth it,” a soft smile appears on his lips. “Congratulations, by the way. On the job. I don’t know if I mentioned it yet.”

“Thank you,” she looks down at her hands. She sighs. “I wanted us to work the first time. I really did. God, Luca. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’m gonna try so hard to be someone that you deserved the first time and that you deserve now.”

She smiles a bit sadly at that. “All you need to be is yourself. That’s all I ask.”

“Deal.”

“I know things are kinda busy coming up, with your cousin’s wedding and Adam’s draft and me going on my trip. But, uh, maybe we can go on a date when I’m back? If it isn’t too late.”

“It’s never too late when it comes to you,” Luca says. “I’d love that.” He leans in to kiss her cheek.

“Come on. I’ll walk you up to your room.”

Things still don’t quite fall into place after that weekend. The next time she sees Luca is when she comes to Nashville for the draft. Luca’s been beaming all day, extremely proud of his brother, but it doesn’t compare to the feeling he felt earlier when Melody and Shayla walked out of their hotel room, Melody wearing a blue satin jumpsuit and looking as stunning as ever. When she greeted him with a hug, he planted a brief kiss in her hair and watched fondly as she embraced Adam, straightening out his collar and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek, muttering some words to him that only those two could hear, Adam closing his eyes and nodding as she smiled. Luca knows how much her being here means to Adam.

(Only close family knew that on Adam’s vest on the back are the names of the important people in his life. When he takes off the suit jacket to show Shayla and Melody, the former beams while the latter starts sniffling. Both so proud of him. Both honored to be on his back in cursive. And Luca just hands her a tissue when she sees a particular picture on the inside of his jacket of the four of them when they were younger at the beach. It’s one of her favorites. It means so much.)

She cries when Adam gets picked third overall to the Columbus Blue Jackets and squeezes Shayla’s hand in excitement as Adam walks onto the stage. Afterwards when she sees him, she practically leaps onto him and squeezes him so tight as he spins her around.

(“Oh, Adam,” she says with a sniffle. “I’m so, so proud of you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Mel.” He says into her shoulder. “Thank you for everything. Everything.”

She pulls away but can’t help herself and hugs him again. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he says as she backs away, biting her lip while placing her hands on his cheek.)

She’s then traveling with a couple friends around Europe and he’s in Pittsburgh for a few days for development camp before hanging out with friends and training. They text semi-frequently but she’s abroad and having fun and he respects that. He’s trying to figure out how to show her that he’s serious about the second chance she’s given him while trying not to overstep.

When he picks her up from Toronto Pearson Airport in mid July, it’s 7 am and she looks and feels like shit. But she comes out of Arrivals and immediately sees Luca waving, big smile on his face, a Michigan shirt on, a hat flipped backwards on his hair and a bouquet of carnations in his hands, looking at her like she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. She hugs him, taking the flowers with a smile as he grabs her duffle from her shoulder. Whether from exhaustion or simply because she’s missed him in more ways than she’d like to admit, she leans into his side as they walk out of the airport and into the parking lot and he immediately responds by putting an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss on her forehead.

It’s so easy to fall back into rhythm with him, as she just admires him while he’s driving, too tired at the moment to recount her travels. Once they get off the highway, he puts the windows down and opens the skylight and there’s a pang of deja vu as he turns up the music a bit, humming along to some country tune. He slows down in front of Betty’s Diner and she furrows her eyebrows.

He smiles, stopping the engine. “I’m gonna go in real quick and grab some food, okay? Told Betty you were coming back today and she insisted on cooking you your favorite. I convinced her to put it in a to-go box but I promised her we’d come back to eat in at some point.”

Melody’s heart practically melts at the thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Lu.”

(He almost trips over himself getting out of the car. She hasn’t called him Lu in so long)

Luca’s house is empty, as Adam is training and his parents are both at work. Melody takes a quick shower to wash off the grime of the plane and when she comes out — in a UMich shirt and sweats she has to roll up that he laid out— the breakfast is all heated up on plates, the bouquet of flowers he gave her still wrapped but in a cup of water so they don’t die. Luca turns around at the sound of footsteps and something flashes through his eyes at the sight of her wearing his clothes again but he shakes himself out of it, instead just sliding a plate towards her. She slumps down on the kitchen island and thanks him with a hum before diving in.

Once she’s full and Luca’s taking all the plates and washing them before she can even blink, she speaks up. “Is this the date?”

“No,” he admits. “I figured I’d give you a couple of days to get over the jetlag before taking you out for real. I just, I wanted to do something nice.”

She wipes her lips with a napkin. “Not that I don’t appreciate all of this, because I do, but what…why?”

“You gave me a second chance. I’m not gonna waste that chance.” His eyes widen in fear. “I-I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you or being too forward. I-if you wanna go home or to Shayla’s, I can drop you off or-”

She smiles slightly. “Relax, Luca.” He blinks. It’s times like this he remembers that she’s two years older and much more level headed than he is. “I was just curious. You don’t have to do this all for me, you know?”

“I want to,” Luca replies simply. “Making up for lost time, I guess.”

“Then come over and finish up these waffles for me,” she says with a small smile, laughing when he barrels over and inhales them.

After breakfast, he can tell she needs sleep even if she won’t admit it. So he puts on Abbot Elementary and puts an arm around her shoulder as she leans into him on the couch. Halfway through the episode, she’s fallen asleep on his chest and he just smiles, staring down at her. He very carefully turns the volume down and shifts so that they’re both more in a comfortable position.

(When Adam comes back from training, he walks into the sight of his older brother and someone who might as well be his older sister cuddling, both asleep with Abbot Elementary still playing. He turns the TV off and tosses a blanket over them, staring at them both thoughtfully before heading to his room)

They do end up going on a date a couple days later. Luca picks her up at the door of her childhood home, waves to her mom and dad and gives her another bouquet of flowers (daisies this time). He then drives them to a nearby park that she hasn’t been to in at least 5 years and then pulls out a picnic basket of sandwiches, fruit, pasta salad, chips and cans of seltzer. She blinks as he lays it all out, because he’s really pulling out the stops and she has to stop herself from just leaning in and kissing him.

And the conversation between them is, yet again, so easy, reminding her of one of the many reasons she always liked him, even before they started dating. Their ability to bounce off of each other and talk about practically everything isn’t something that she’s been able to replicate with anyone else quite yet. There are some instances where they slip into some dangerous territory, but they successfully steer away from it. Those are conversations that need to be had, but not today.

For awhile, especially after their breakup, Melody had only fixated on their differences, with his hockey and party life at Michigan and her research and much tamer college life at Northwestern. But during that picnic, laying down with her head on his lap, she had a realization that they were similar in many ways she hadn’t thought about before — their love for Toronto, their distaste for judgemental people, their passion for leaving an impact, the way they love their friends and family, their love for music.

(It probably only took that date for Melody to fall in love with Luca again, but she would never admit that to herself)

They book a last minute trip to Seattle in late July— it’s purely because Melody found tickets to Taylor Swift last minute that were a reasonable price. She would’ve taken Shayla, but she already saw Taylor in Detroit two days before Melody’s graduation. So the couple hike some trails, eat some good food and have a blast at Taylor Swift.

(During ‘Fearless,’ which is one of Melody’s favorites, she’s hyper emotional, feeling Luca’s hands around her waist and him singing softly into her ear. He must also remember all the times she played this in the car growing up. During ‘Love Story,’ which is Luca’s favorite, she swears the stadium is shaking and it’s such a wonderful feeling to be a part of something like this. In the middle of the second chorus, she looks back at him with a smile, and he kisses her probably too deeply for what’s considered proper in public. But she can’t care less. And when he sings the last four lines to her in her ear, it feels something like a promise.)

He drives down with her to Chicago mid-August to help her move into her new apartment with a mutual friend from college who’s coming in September. Just like when he helped her move out, he doesn’t complain once. But this time, inbetween moving boxes, he puckers his lips and gets a kiss. The moment she realizes that she’s in her new home for the foreseeable future is when she’s placing some framed pictures around in her room, this particular one being of Shayla, Adam, Luca, Katie and her at the draft just under two months before. She doesn’t have that many framed pictures around, but this one was important to her to have up. She sets it down on the desk and just looks at it, even as Luca comes up to hug her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Shayla’s off to Houston for her job, Adam is off to Columbus to play in the NHL, Luca’s going back to Ann Arbor to do what he loves, Katie is going back to UCLA for her second year and she’s starting her job in Chicago.

All five of them doing what they love, excited for the future, grateful for the past. And doing it together, even if they’re all in different states.

He stays with her for a couple of days before heading back to Michigan. That goodbye sucks in particular, as she clings onto him. She’s trying so hard not to let tears fall, but when he softly mutters that he loves her (the first time he’s said those words since they decided to try again), the waterfall starts and she just sobs into his chest as he quietly whispers sweet nothings and rubs her back, kissing her hair and face and fingers and whispering that they’ll see each other in no time — which isn’t true. She has no idea when she’ll be able to get some time off as a new employee and he’s not gonna have that much time to spare once hockey season officially starts.

(She doesn’t say it back yet, something inexplicable holding her back. But as he kisses her soundly at the airport before heading through security, she knows she does)

As she’s driving to Ann Arbor in December it takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize why it feels like deja vu.

Last year around this time, she made this exact same drive to see a game against the exact same team. Except this time, it’s different. Adam isn’t there. Shayla isn’t there. The team is different. Her and Luca are different.

And as she’s driving to Ann Arbor, she knows she has to let him know. She has to let him know she loves him.

This is only the third time she’s seen him since he helped her move in August. She would be lying if she said it hasn’t been tough and there haven’t been moments where she wonders if it’s worth it. But then her phone lights up, signaling a text from him or food she didn’t order ends up at her doorstep or she watches streams of UMich games and watches him score and then she’s reminded that she made the right choice in giving Luca a second chance.

She loves watching hockey. She loves watching Luca play hockey.

She got the number of Maggie, Kienan’s girlfriend, from Luca because she would only be able to make it to Michigan right before the game started, and Maggie was more than happy to lead her inside with her media pass and introduce her to some of the other significant others before she’d actually have to get back to work. It was a bit weird, being one of those significant others and being a bit older, but she was a college student up until June, so it’s not like she feels completely out of place.

She parks outside of Yost and texts Maggie, who directs her on which door to walk to. After an enthusiastic hug, she leads Melody through the back way into the arena, saying that the boys are already on the ice for warmups and that everyone is excited to meet her (“We’ve heard so much about you, from Luca and even from Adam last year, so we’re all really excited to meet you.”)

She gets introduced to Ellie and Kayleigh, Jacob and Rutger’s girlfriends respectively, and they’re so peppy and excited and nice that she doesn’t feel as nervous as she sits down as they immediately want to get to know more about her. They have decent seats, so she can see some of the players’ expressions if she looks hard enough. She immediately spots 63 and just smiles before turning back to the girls, not wanting to distract him from warmups, even though she finds herself eyeing him while talking. It isn’t until one of the guys, Ethan, if she remembers his number correctly, nudges Luca and nods in their direction does she smile and give a small wave. Even from this far, she sees him light up and wave back before focusing on warming up again.

The game, like any Michigan vs Michigan State one, is chippy, loud and exciting. She’s watched so many of Luca and Adam’s games growing up, yet she still finds herself nervously playing with her sleeves. Michigan ends up winning 2-1 and everyone’s in happy spirits as they leave the arena. She bids farewell to the girls and thanks them for letting her sit with them before Maggie’s back to lead her towards the locker room to meet up with Luca.

She waits patiently outside of the locker room with Maggie, just chatting casually, smiling when Kienan comes out and they embrace. Melody gives him a hug as well. The next guys to come out are Mark, Ethan and Seamus, who she remembers from last year and they all give her hugs before she wishes them a good holiday break. She tells them that they don’t have to stay and they all wave her off. (“Are you kidding? I’m not missing this reunion. Luca’s been talking about seeing you non-stop for forever.” Ethan jokes.)

They don’t have to wait long, as Luca’s the next one to come out. His cheeks are a bit flushed and he’s dressed in her favorite suit of his. His eyes dart all over until they meet hers. He immediately shrugs off his backpack and lifts Melody up in a hug. She lets out a little squeal and laughs as he spins her around.

“Hi.” She mutters into his shoulder.

“Hi angel.” He pulls away and kisses her twice. “I missed you.”

She pulls back and runs a hand through his hair with a light smile. “Missed you. Good game.” She looks beyond his shoulder to see the rest of his teammates smiling or smirking, some she recognizes, others she doesn’t. She detaches herself from him and nudges him. “Introduce me to your teammates.”

He groans playfully. “Do I have to?”

She rolls her eyes and smiles at the boys warmly. “Hi. I’m Melody, if we haven’t met.” She gives everybody a quick hug as the freshmen introduce themselves, laughing when Dylan wiggles her around.

Everyone’s a bit tired, so within 10 minutes, everyone’s saying goodbye and leaving the arena. She insists on driving Seamus, Rutger and Gavin since they all live together. When they get back, she’s helping him fold clothes to bring back to Toronto for break as he sits back on his bed, one hand behind his head and just looking at her. She’s grown out her hair and got a perm as a treat to herself after her first paycheck. And she had FaceTimed him immediately after she walked out of the salon, but seeing it in person is something entirely different. Still donned in his MIchigan crewneck that mysteriously disappeared from his closet over the summer and a yellow bow in her hair, she’s wearing flannel pajama pants now instead of jeans and folding a pair of his jeans before tossing it into his duffle and zipping it up. Luca’s suddenly overwhelmed by how blessed he is.

The next morning, after brunch at one of Luca’s favorite spots around campus, when they’re at the start of their drive back to Toronto and at a long stoplight, she remembers.

“Hey, Lu?”

“Hm?” He immediately looks at her and places a kiss on the back of her hand that he’s been holding.

“I love you.”

Luca’s eyes light up and she bites her lip so she doesn’t grin like a crazy woman. “Yeah?” He breathes out.

“Yeah. I love you.”

He leans to press a sweet kiss on her lips and then her cheek, and mutters against her skin. “I love you, angel. So much. Always have. Always will.”

And she chuckles under her breath when she tunes into what song is playing through the speakers of her car.

This love came back to her, indeed.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #umich #umich hockey #luca fantilli #luca fantilli fic #luca fantilli x oc #adam fantilli #team 101 #luca fantilli blurb #hockey blurb

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 13

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 8.1K

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Steve stretched up on his toes, holding the banner in place so Jonathan could tape it across the threshold between the dining room and kitchen. Robin and Dustin were blowing up balloons in the living room while Nancy and Karen worked on the food in the kitchen. Ted was where he could always be found, leaned back in a recliner, watching television, oblivious to the fact that everybody was helping but him.

Honestly, Steve could not figure out how he and Karen were still together. He couldn’t figure out how they’d gotten together in the first place. Nancy said her mom saw stability with her dad but they were the oddest couple he’d ever seen. And that was saying something considering who his parents were.

Karen was just so vibrant, upbeat, and full of energy. She still went to jazzercise three times a week. Her and Nancy had run a marathon last summer. She was the first to offer to help or watch Jere when needed. Ted was so boring and completely useless. Whenever he opened his mouth, everyone just stared at him because he added nothing productive to the conversation even when he actually decided to join in. He’d never shared those views with Nancy, obviously, as that was her dad but he was pretty sure she felt the same way.

Mike and El were up in Jeremiah’s room, amusing the birthday boy with a round of Battleship while he anxiously awaited the arrival of his best friend. Jere had been systematically kicked out of every room in the house. He’d been kicked out of the kitchen after he’d knocked an entire tray of strawberries to the floor, causing Dustin to announce he could run to the store and grab more before Nancy had a meltdown. He’d then proceeded to pop six balloons as he karate chopped and kicked them as fast as Robin was filling them. By the eighth time of him asking Steve if it was time yet, Steve had practically begged the two of them to get him focused on anything else.

“So, Nancy told me your new girlfriend is coming to the party,” Jonathan commented with a sly smile, climbing down from the stepladder. He was sure Nancy had relayed everything Jere or Steve had told her the minute she heard it. “Must be getting pretty serious if you’re inviting her to Jere’s birthday and introducing her to Nance. You’ve never brought a girl around Jere so quickly before.” He stepped back to assess his work, high fiving Steve when they both deemed it good.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. I want it to be serious. It definitely seems like it might be serious. But Jere had already met her before we started dating so her being around him this quickly doesn’t really count. We met because she wanted to set up a playdate for the boys.”

“You two exclusive?”

“Yeah. We agreed on that last week,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You would have thought I was some fifteen year old boy who’s never talked to girls. I don’t know why I had such a hard time just asking her to be my girlfriend. I’ve never had a girl get me so tongue twisted before but I like her. I really like her, man. She’s pretty amazing.”

“Sounds like it. Jere says she’s your Lois Lane.”

“Of course he did. Always a superhero reference with that kid. But he’s not wrong. I don’t know. We haven’t known each other all that long but it just feels…different, somehow. I’ve been in a lot of relationships, you know. Like, a lot, a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” snorted Jonathan. “We all started taking bets on how long each lady would last. I lost on Janet by a week. Lucas rubbed that one in my face for a while.”

“You guys take…seriously?” Steve groaned, his hand slipping over his mouth and jaw. Of course his friends would make his sad love life into a game. “Please tell me no one is doing that this time. The last thing I need is her hearing that my friends are placing wagers on how long we last. I’m pretty sure she already thinks I’m some kind of lady’s man.”

“Nah, man. No one’s doing that this time. For one, we haven’t even met her yet. It’s hard to judge before actually seeing the two of you together. And according to Robin and Dustin, they think this one might actually stick. If those two are saying that, then I have to believe it's possible. They’d be the first to call bullshit.”

“Trust me, Robin would have no problem calling it what it is. Hell, she wouldn’t even talk about it with all of you behind my back. She’d just tell me to my face. She told me Janet was crazy the same night she met her. She told me Jill was a narcissist after hanging out with her twice. She told me Heather was annoying and she’d never be able to put up with her if we stayed together. She told me Rachel was just using me to get back at her ex. She’s got everybody’s number from the moment she meets them. This is the first girl she actually hasn’t complained about.”

“At all?” Jonathan’s brows lifted in disbelief. “Hard to believe. Robin doesn’t seem to think anyone is good enough for you.”

“I mean, she was worried initially. She is a widow. Her husband was a Marine and he was killed in action. It happened two years ago and she hasn’t dated anyone since. Robin worried that maybe she would use me as her jumping board. You know, first relationship after losing her ex, a way to dip her toe into the waters. But after meeting her, she thinks she’s the real deal. The two of them have been getting along great, actually. They went out for dinner Wednesday night while I kept the boys.”

“Wow. Impressive. She approves and she wants to hang out with her. I’d say this girl has the Robin Buckley stamp of approval and I know how important that is.”

“Yeah,” snorted Steve, “kind of a necessity in my life.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her.” He nodded his head toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on Nance. Make sure she’s got it all under control with the food.” He lowered his voice, hand up by his mouth. “And make sure she’s not getting too high strung over a kid’s birthday party. None of us need high strung Nance.”

Steve laughed knowingly. Nancy was the one you wanted when it came to organization but she could also be a little Type A about it. And if you let her work up too much steam, there was no slowing her down. That’s why Jonathan was so good for her. He knew exactly how to handle her when she was chugging down that track just a little too fast.

As Jonathan walked away, Steve made his way to the living room. Robin and Dustin appeared to have a system going. He would fill the balloon with air from the tank and hand it to Robin, who was tying them off. They probably had thirty balloons at this point, all yellow and black in honor of the special visitor that would be arriving later.

“You know, that’s probably enough balloons,” Steve teased. “Too many more and this house is going to lift right off the ground.”

“Nance specifically said she wanted fifty balloons,” Dustin snapped, grabbing another from the pile. “So, we are giving her fifty balloons.”

“Why fifty?”

“I don’t know, Steve,” sighed Robin, giving him that exasperated look she always gave when she felt like he was asking a stupid question. It happened far more often than it should. “Why don’t you go ask the mother of your child why she requires fifty balloons.”

It was a challenge and they both knew it. Nance would be at maximum anxiety level right now. She was handling everything for the part and until everything was checked off her list, until it was all exactly how she planned, and the event itself had begun, it was better to steer clear. Questions would only lead to icy stares and a sharp tongue. He knew way better than to get in her way.

“Nope. I’m good. Stepping into Nance’s rage cloud is Jonathan’s job now. And he’s in there doing it as we speak. I’m just gonna stay out here, far away.”

“What time is the girlfriend arriving?” asked Dustin, grinning up at him.

Steve looked down at his watch, “About fifteen minutes or so. I told her the same time we told everyone else.”

“Who? Lucas, Max, Hop, Joyce, Will, and Nolan? Speaking of, how did they get out of helping while I’m stuck sitting here blowing up an insane amount of balloons?”

“Talk and fill!” Robin snapped at him. “We’ve got eighteen more balloons to go before everyone gets here.”

“It’s the gang!” argued Dustin. “Well, and Steve’s girlfriend. It’s the same people who are here all the time. Who is Nancy trying to impress? Your new girl? You think she’s going to walk in and go, this party is okay but you know what would really have made this party great? Eighteen more balloons.”

“Do you want to deal with the wrath of Nance when she counts and there’s not fifty? Because you know she’ll count.”

“Damn it. She will,” he huffed, placing another balloon over the pump. “Why is your ex so scary?”

Laughing, Steve shrugged, “You’ve known her longer than me. You tell me.”

The front door opened, Will stepping inside with Nolan right behind him, balancing three very large wrapped boxes in his arms. Steve ran forward to help, taking the top two from him.

“What the hell, man? Did you buy him stereo speakers or something?”

Will smiled, “No.”

“You had to get him three things?”

“He’s my nephew. Of course I had to get him three things.”

“It was going to be five things but I talked him down,” Nolan said, dropping the box he still had with the pile of growing presents that sat in the corner of the living room.

“I’m his favorite uncle and I intend to keep it that way.”

Dustin’s lips came together as he blew a big raspberry, “Whatever. We all know I’m his favorite.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble but neither of you hold a candle to me,” Robin stated, tying off the next balloon, putting them at thirty-eight.

“You’re not an uncle. You’re an aunt,” Dustin pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the favorite overall so that makes me the best.”

Steve shared a look with Nolan, both men rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. The truth was, Jeremiah adored everyone in his life and Steve would forever be grateful that he had so many people who loved him. Yeah. The pile of presents was large. But the support and devotion they all gave his son was more valuable than anything else.

Jeremiah had something that Steve never had growing up. He had a family. A family who cherished him, spent time with him, and supported him in everything he did. That kid had to have the biggest cheering section of anyone. The cheers were deafening when he walked across the stage at his Kindergarten graduation. His first baseball game was coming up in a couple weeks and Steve had no doubt that most of the people in this house would be in attendance to cheer him on.

“Will! Nolan!” Nancy squealed, exiting the kitchen, still looking picture perfect after hours of preparation for the party. She hugged each man in turn as if it had been months and not simply days, since she’d seen them last.

“Hey man.” Jonathan followed her, giving his brother and Nolan each a hug.

“Who’s manning the restaurant if you’re both here?” asked Dustin, remaining in his spot, dutifully filling the balloons until they reached fifty.

“Shelly is taking care of things for a few hours,” answered Nolan.

Will strolled into the living room, dropping down on the couch, “Yeah. She’s really been a lifesaver. It’s been nice having someone we can trust to handle things so we can actually both be off at the same time. You know, actually spending time with your husband really helps keep a marriage together. If she keeps doing such a good job, we might even consider taking a vacation.”

“We’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii,” Nolan added. “It seemed impossible but with Shelly, we might be able to do it.”

Will and Nolan were not legally married but everyone, including them, acted as if they were. They had a small ceremony in their backyard last year with just their closest friends and family. As far as Steve was concerned, they were married in all the ways that mattered. It was bullshit that the law wouldn’t recognize it. Steve had never seen a more positive example of what marriage should be.

Will had been so nervous to introduce them all to Nolan after they’d first met. He hadn’t told anyone that he was gay, yet. But it hadn’t been a huge surprise. Will, who’d never seemed interested in dating or girls. Will, who’d looked at Mike as if the sun shone on him since they were eleven. Yeah, they pretty much all knew. Steve was just happy he’d moved on from pining for something that was never going to happen and found someone who made him happy. There was nothing worse than pining for the wrong person. He knew. It was how he wound up married when Nancy came back.

The front door opened again, Hopper’s big voice booming through the house, “I hear we’ve got some kid in here who thinks it’s okay to keep growing and now he’s turning eight!”

“Shh!” Nancy chastised with a laugh, taking the gift bag from his hands to deposit it with the gifts. “Mike and El actually have him entertained right now. If he hears his Pops he is going to come running back down here.”

“So?” Hopper opened his arms wide. “The kid loves his Pops.”

“We all know he does but he’s been extremely underfoot,” Steve explained. “And he won’t stop asking when his friend, Eli, is getting here.”

“Eli? Eli with the pretty mom that you brought into the restaurant?” questioned Joyce, her lips curving up knowingly.

“Yeah, that Eli.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Hopper bellowed, slapping Steve on the back. “You got a girl, kid? A girl who’s coming to your son’s birthday party? Sounds pretty serious! Why wasn’t I told about this?” He lifted an eyebrow at his wife.

“I just forgot to mention it,” shrugged Joyce. “Besides, you know now.”

“It is pretty serious,” Nancy smirked. “Steve is smitten. He gets all red in the cheeks when he talks about her.” She pinched his cheeks and he pulled his head away with a sigh.

“Seriously,” Robin snorted. “He’s like a little puppy who’s feet are too big, tripping all over himself whenever she’s around. It’s adorable, actually.” She tied off another balloon. “Fifty!” Holding up her hand, Dustin indulged her in a high five. “Jesus, that was a lot of balloons.”

“Great!” Nancy grinned. “Now we just need to tape them around the archway, along the table, and above the banner.”

Dustin groaned, head falling back against the couch, “Seriously? Nance, who are you trying to impress?”

“My son only turns eight once and I want it to be perfect. Now come on. We’ve only got a few minutes before Steve’s girlfriend and her son arrive and not long after that Batman will be here. I want this place birthday party perfect before Jere comes down.”

They all pitched in and with so many hands, they had the balloons affixed in no time with Nancy directing, of course, standing back, telling them where to place each one. In the midst of all the directing, grumbling, and complaining, Max and Lucas arrived, immediately being handed balloons and put to work.

Steve glanced over at the clock, edgy and tense when he saw that it was two minutes past the time he’d told you to be here. Had you decided not to come? Had the idea of meeting his ex been too much for you? He shook it off. He was being ridiculous. You'd never been here before. You probably just got lost or hit traffic or hell, maybe you had a hard time getting Eli out the door. He knew how easy it was to be late when you were managing a child.

A hand landed on his back and he glanced over to see Robin, “Calm down. I’m sure she’s coming. Not everybody is super punctual like your ex is.”

“I know, I know. I just…” His words cut off when your car pulled up out front, parking in front of a house across the street. “She’s here.”

____________________________________________________________

“Finally!” Eli dramatically cried from the backseat, throwing his hands in the air. You would have thought this drive took two hours instead of fifteen minutes the way he’d been moaning and complaining the entire time.

“Yes. We’re finally here.”

Unbuckling, you looked up at the cute little house that was your destination. The warm, welcoming brick home with brightly colored tulips in the garden should not be the most terrifying thing you'd ever seen. But your insides curdled as if this were a horror movie you were suddenly trapped in, doomed to face your inevitable demise.

Steve’s ex-wife was just there, right across the street. What was she going to think of you? Would she hate you on sight simply because you were the new woman? Would she be cold and nasty? Or even worse, would she be fake nice, that kind that was so sickly sweet it gave you a toothache even though you could hear the venom dripping underneath? What would she say to Steve after you left? Would her opinion convince him that dating you was a bad idea?

“Mommy! Don’t forget his present!” Eli yelled, unbuckling himself as you were stepping out of the car.

“I know, buddy. I got it.”

You popped the trunk, pulling out the small gift bag inside that featured Batman and Robin. Eli had begged to get Jeremiah the Diddy Kong Racing game for his Nintendo 64. It had been twenty-five dollars, a bit more than you'd planned on spending, but Eli had given you those big hopeful eyes and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

It was his best friend’s party and you usually kept the budget around ten dollars for stuff like that. But it was also your boyfriend’s kid’s birthday so you figured you should spend more. How much more, you had no idea. You didn’t want to go overboard. Then everyone would look at you like you were trying to buy your way in and that certainly wouldn’t go over well with the ex. But if you didn’t get something good enough they would all think you were cheap and didn’t care enough about Jeremiah.

In the end, Eli had made the decision for you. You could always laugh it off with how badly he’d insisted on that particular gift for his friend. You'd never been so stressed just picking out a birthday gift. But this was already a very tight knit circle and you were the outsider trying to find your place. You didn’t want to mess it up.

Taking Eli’s hand, the two of you made your way up the sidewalk. Your son bounced with anticipation while you trudged like you were heading to the gallows. The front door opened just as you reached the bottom of the stairs and Steve stepped out, the mere sight of him soothing some of your anxiety.

“Hey! You made it!”

He opened his arms wide and Eli ran straight into them for a hug, sending Steve off balance. He caught himself, hugging your son before wrapping an arm around you, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You didn’t miss the variety of faces all looking out the front windows at you.

“Hey! You stepped on my foot!”

“Stop pushing!”

“I was here first!”

“Would you give the poor kids some privacy? They’re not animals on display at the zoo!”

“Quiet! They’re gonna know we’re spying on them!”

“We already know! You guys are extremely loud!” Steve bellowed, rolling his eyes toward you. “Sorry about that. They’re all very excited that you’re here.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” You swallowed down the anxiety that was creeping up. No pressure or anything. “Sorry. Eli couldn’t decide which Batman shirt to wear and I am pretty sure he tried on every single one he owns before we finally made it out the door.”

“No worries. The Dark Knight doesn’t arrive for another twenty minutes or so. You made it in plenty of time.” He grinned down at Eli and then leaned in, his hand resting on your low back, thumb brushing soothingly as he whispered, “It’s going to be fine. If you couldn’t tell, they are all really excited that you are coming.”

A nervous smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you nodded, inhaling slowly through your nose. You could do this. The worst that could happen would be that Nancy would hate your guts. That would be something you would have to navigate but you could. Couldn’t you? Lots of people dealt with exes who weren’t fond of the new girls or guys in their lives. You'd just never imagined you would be one of them.

You'd barely stepped inside when a voice called out your name and then arms were wrapping around you in a welcoming embrace. Brown curly hair covered your vision as you returned the hug, a bit overwhelmed and shocked by it to do anything but reciprocate. When the bearer of the hug pulled back, you were looking into the face of a very pretty woman with stormy blue eyes and the cutest little button nose you'd ever seen.

“H…hi…” you stammered, realizing this must be the ex wife as she was the only woman in the room that you'd yet to meet.

“Hi! I’m so sorry to just bombard you like that but I’ve been dying to meet you. Steve and Jere have talked about you so much. I’m so glad you two could come today. Jeremiah has been asking about Eli non-stop. He’s going to be so excited you’re here.” She paused, laughing. “Sorry. I’m Nancy by the way, in case you didn’t already figure that out.” She leaned down to Eli’s level. “And you must be the famous Eli. I have definitely heard all about you.”

Eli beamed, proud to be so well known already, “Jeremiah is my very best friend in the whole world.”

“And you’re definitely his. My son is very lucky to have such a kind friend like you.” Nancy reached forward, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you head upstairs? I’m sure you’ll be able to find his room. You’ll be able to hear them. Jere is playing games with his Uncle Mike and Aunt El. He’ll be so excited you’re here.”

Eli raced up the stairs, feet pounding loudly with excitement. You stood, a little taken aback. Nancy was nothing like what you'd expected or feared. She was so warm and welcoming. You might have wondered if it was all an act but the woman seemed as genuine as they came. She truly seemed excited that the two of you were there.

“So, Batman should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Would you like anything to drink?” offered Nancy.

“I’m okay. Is there anything I can help with?”

“I was just going to bring in the food from the kitchen if you want to help with that. Robin?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, pleased to be put to use. The last thing you wanted was to be left sitting or standing around awkwardly. You smiled at Steve as you followed Nancy into the kitchen, thinking this might not be near as awful as you thought. In fact, it might actually be fun.

____________________________________________________________

Two hours later, the adults were enjoying drinks on the front porch while the boys were systematically making their way through all of Jeremiah’s birthday gifts. They’d already roped Dustin, Mike, and Lucas into a game of Cranium, opened every single superhero figure he’d received and had an epic battle in Gotham City, annoyed everyone with a Furby that you were sure was actually a demon, and now they were taking turns with Jeremiah’s new scooter. One boy would ride it while the other ran after him and then they would swap.

Batman had been a hit, as if there’d been any doubt. Both boys had been absolutely starstruck when he’d swept into the house, announcing, “I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batman. Now where’s this birthday boy?”

The college kid playing him had done an excellent job. He had the deep voice and the build for the superhero. He’d allowed the boys to use his grappling hook and his boomerang and set up a game where the adults were the villains and he and the boys had to stop them. Eli and Jeremiah had been giggling the entire time, especially when they got to tie up Steve with rope.

You leaned into Steve from your spot on the steps and he pressed a kiss to your temple, squeezing your shoulder gently. Nancy was grinning like a fool at you, something she’d been doing for most of the party. Contrary to your fears, the woman seemed truly happy for you. Robin was watching you too, a very satisfied smile sitting on her face, making you a bit nervous as it appeared she might be scheming. Given what Steve had told you about his best friend, it wouldn’t be out of character for her.

“You know, now that all of the introductions have been made and you are officially a part of our group, I think it’s about time we had a girl’s night so we can all get to know her a little better,” Robin announced.

“Yes!” El agreed brightly, looping her arm through Mike’s. “We haven’t had a girl’s night with all of us in forever.”

“Yeah, we need to know all your deep, dark secrets now that you’re one of us,” Max teased.

“Good grief,” grunted Hopper, standing on the sidewalk, a wreath of smoke around his head as he watched the boys. “You’re going to scare the poor girl off before Harrington even has a chance. Take it easy on her, girls.”

“Oh come on, Dad. We’re only teasing her,” El laughed with a roll of her eyes.

Lucas snorted, “She goes out with all of you and she’s going to be looking for the exit real fast.” He yelped when Max elbowed him. “Ouch! You know I’m right. I love you all but you can be a bit…much.”

“Much?” demanded Max, eyes wide. “Seriously, Lucas?”

He shrugged, ducking when Max made a swipe for the back of his head, and you had to swallow down your laugh.

“I think if you have a girl’s night, you should go to Brewed Awakening,” Karen sang, joining the crowd, two mugs of coffee in her hands, one of which she handed off to Joyce.

“Where’s Dad?” asked Nancy.

Karen harrumphed, “Do you even need to ask?”

“Snoring in my chair?” asked Jonathan knowingly and Karen pointed at him.

“Of course. Where else would he be?”

“Why should they go to the coffee place?” questioned Will.

“So one of them can finally get our Robin here to do what she’s been too scared to do for months,” Karen stated, patting the dark blond on the head.

“What’s that?” you asked curiously, leaning forward.

Robin glared at Nolan as he answered, “Robin has had a crush on the owner for months but she’s too chicken shit to actually make a move. Her excuse was that she wasn’t sure if she was into women but we have definitely confirmed that she is. In fact, multiple people in this group have confirmed that fact. So, now she has no reason besides her own cowardice.”

“Are you talking about June? I love June!” you stated. “I get my coffee from there all the time and she makes the most delicious sandwiches. I’d be happy to help you talk to her.”

“Talking to her is not my problem,” huffed Robin.

“Like hell it’s not,” argued Steve. “You trip all over your words whenever she’s around. I always do more of the talking while you stand there staring at your shoes, mumbling nonsense every few minutes.”

“Well…I mean, she’s so pretty. It’s hard for me to even look at her, let alone talk to her. I’m scared I’m going to just blurt out the wrong thing or keep talking when I should shut up. You know me. Even after I’ve said everything that I need to say, I just keep talking when I get nervous and she makes me nervous. That’s exactly what I did with Vickie so I figure maybe it’s better if I don’t talk.”

“So take the girls with you for backup,” Karen reasoned.

Joyce agreed. “Yeah. You’re always more confident when you have your support system with you. They can start the conversation and then maybe you’ll find a way to finally ask her out.”

“It took this guy six months to finally ask me out,” Nolan laughed, playfully jabbing his elbow into Will. “He kept coming into the restaurant where I worked and ordering stuff. I swear, the one day he was there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When he came back in right before closing to order dessert, I finally asked him if it was the food he was coming for or me.”

Will’s face flushed scarlet. “I mean…” He shrugged shyly. “Look at him.” He gestured to the very fit man next to him. “Who wouldn’t have trouble talking to him? I never thought some super toned, athletic guy would be interested in a nerdy string bean like me.”

“Oh, I love my nerdy string bean,” Nolan crooned, kissing him on the cheek. “Nothing gets me hotter than hearing you talk about hit points and campaign plans. Plus, you’re easy to toss around.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh gross,” Jonathan groaned. “I do not want to hear about my brother making anyone hot and I definitely don’t want to hear about him being tossed around.”

You laughed, resting your head on Steve’s shoulder as you observed the playful banter amid the group. It was so nice how easy they all flowed. It was effortless, like a family should be. After the upbringing Steve had, you were thankful he’d been able to find such a supportive group of people to surround himself with. You were glad that you could now call yourself a part of that too.

“So Lucas, you must be pretty relieved now that tax season is over,” you commented.

The guy groaned, “Oh my god, yes. Why in the hell do so many people wait until the last minute to file? I have been working twelve hour days for the last two weeks.”

“Because they don’t want to pay the corrupt government their bullshit money,” Dustin snorted. “I didn’t file until the last minute I had to.”

“Yeah,” glared Lucas, “I know. I thought I was finally done and in strolls this dipshit at 9:30 at night.”

Dustin shrugged, “Listen, I did what I am supposed to but there’s nothing that says I can’t do it right before it’s due. I did it the night before so the postmark would be the correct date. I followed the rules.”

The conversation flowed easily. Max filled everyone in as much as she could on the case she’d been working on for the last month. Hopper dropped a couple amusing stories about arrests and stops he’d made recently. Mike dropped a bomb, telling everyone he’d finally decided to submit his book to some publishing companies. You were amazed to see how effortlessly it was to be in the middle of this large group.

Your pocket buzzed, interrupting just as Karen was sharing a story about a seventy year old woman who was putting everyone else at Jazzercise to shame. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you sighed when you saw it was Justin’s mom, Judith.

“Can you all excuse me for a minute? I have to take this.”

Walking toward the side of the house, away from the group, you braced yourself before answering. It wasn’t that you hated Judith but Judith could be…difficult. It had taken a long time for her to accept you, struggling to believe that anyone could be good enough for her son. She acted as if you were stealing her boy away from her instead of including you as part of the family. It wasn’t until Eli arrived that she finally seemed to begrudgingly accept that you weren't going anywhere. But she’d never exactly been warm or friendly with you either.

And since Justin had passed it had just become more complicated to navigate a relationship with her. She called at least twice a week, questioning you like she was a hard nosed detective interrogating you, as if she didn’t believe you could possibly take care of her grandson alone. She’d offered to let you and Eli move in with her and her husband after Justin’s death and had taken your refusal as a personal affront. Ever since then, things had been even more dicey between the two of you than they had before.

“Hi Judith.” You pressed two fingers against your forehead, willing yourself to be as upbeat as possible because the woman would notice immediately if you had any kind of tone.

“Aly, hello. I was just calling to check in with that grandson of mine. Can you put him on the phone?”

“Actually, he’s busy right now.”

“Busy? What do you mean busy? What could a seven year old possibly have on his schedule that would be more important than talking to his grandmother?”

This was exactly the kind of thing that grated you. This was what you tried to ignore every time. This level of self-importance that Judith placed on herself. She couldn’t stand not being number one in Justin’s life anymore so now she was vying to be Eli’s number one. There was not a reality where she could imagine her being less important than something or someone else. What she failed to realize was that love should not be a hierarchy where people were valued more than others. You could love multiple people and they could all be important to you.

“We are at his best friend’s birthday party and he is riding scooters with him right now.”

“Oh, well I’m sure if you told him that I was on the phone he could take a break.”

“No Judith. I am not going to do that. He’s having fun. I don’t want to interrupt him right now. Besides, that would be quite rude to his friend. He’s here for his party.”

“It would only be a few minutes.”

“I will have him call you when we get home later. I am sure whatever you have to say can wait a couple more hours,” you stated firmly and then sighed, softening your tone. “Besides, then he can tell you all about the birthday party.”

“Oh! Well, that’s true.” You could hear it. Judith was convinced, tickled at the thought of her grandson wanting to share all the details of his life with her. “Okay. But make sure he calls me. Make sure you don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, I know how you get, darling. I know being a single mother must be challenging but you should really find a system for writing things down. You’re so forgetful these days.”

Your neck rolled at the dig. The truth was you weren't forgetful. You chose to forget that Judith had called on occasion because you could only take so many minutes of listening to her list all the ways that you were failing. You could only handle her reminding you how she’d offered to take you and Eli in so many times. And if you didn’t occasionally forget about her, you feared you were going to lash out at her. And no matter how Judith grated your nerves, she was still your son’s grandmother.

“I promise I will have him call you.”

Keeping the goodbyes short, you flipped your phone shut, the harsh snap satisfying. Inhaling slowly, you rolled your shoulders, relaxing yourself. The last thing you needed was to head back up there tense and ruin everyone’s mood.

“Hey, everything okay?” Steve asked as you approached, his eyes lasering straight through you, seeing through the mask you were attempting to wear. His hand settled on your shoulder and you felt your body respond, each tense muscle slowly loosening under his touch.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. That was Eli’s grandmother. She just wanted to check in with him. I told her I would have him call her later after we got home.”

“Your mom?” asked Max with a tilt of her head.

“Uh…no…Justin’s mom, actually.”

Those eyes were burning into you even as you kept your gaze purposefully away from his. His hand trailed down your back, making slow circles through the fabric of your shirt, as if he could sense that you were on edge no matter how light you tried to keep your tone.

“Do they live around here?” inquired Nancy.

“No. They…they don’t.” Thank god they didn’t but you kept that particular thought in your own head. “They live over three hours away in Port Clinton, Ohio. It’s this city right by Lake Erie. We don’t really see them that much, honestly.”

“Oh. That must be hard for you two. Your parents aren’t close either, are they?” Nancy’s eyes were full of empathy, understanding from another mom. Most moms could at least envision how hard it would be to raise a child alone, empathize with the challenges. And really, for a while, until her and Jonathan got together, she had been doing it alone during the time she had Eli.

“No. They’re not. Even farther away actually, in Boston. But they usually fly out a couple times a year, around the holiday times. They…well…” You bit your lip, glancing up at Steve. You hadn’t dropped this particular bomb on him yet and this wasn’t really something you wanted to do in front of everyone. But you probably should, considering your mom had called two nights ago to tell you they booked flights for the week after school was out. “They're actually going to be visiting in about five weeks.”

“Well, that’s exciting!” beamed El. “Eli has to be happy.”

“Yeah. He is. They, well, they want to watch him play baseball. My dad is a huge Red Sox fan. He was even before they moved to Boston. I always tease him that that’s really why he wanted to move there. The job was just an excuse for him to be closer to his beloved team. And they…uh…they want to meet Steve, actually.”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted and your stomach clenched. Maybe this was all moving too fast. You'd barely been together and now you were asking him to meet your parents. Would this scare him off? For all the talking you'd done about taking it slow, the two of you seemed to be going from zero to eighty in a matter of seconds.

“You know, I can just tell them you’re out of town for work or something when they come,” you rushed to add. “My mom, while I love her, can be a bit much. The minute she found out I was dating somebody she was talking about a visit. I mean, she’s going to love you. She loves everybody but I know it’s really soon for all of that. It’s crazy, right? It’s not like we’re sixteen and you have to meet my parents before taking me out.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “Damn. And I thought I rambled when I was nervous.”

Steve shot a glare her way and she held up her hands, leaning back against the post. “No. It’s fine. I’d love to meet your parents. Besides…” He paused, grinning, “...parents love me.”

“Its true.” Karen nodded. “I’ve adored him from the moment he walked through my door. I still love him even though he divorced my daughter.”

“But you got me in exchange,” teased Jonathan.

“That’s true.” She patted his shoulder. “And we love you too.”

“You really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you told him. “I don’t want you feeling obligated or anything.”

“I don’t feel obligated. They can come to a game. I can cookout one day over at my place. In fact, let’s take them to Sage and Salt one night for a nice dinner.”

“Oh yeah!” Nolan agreed. “I will whip up some of my best dishes for your folks.”

“They will get the VIP treatment,” Will promised. “We’ll pull out all the stops for them.”

Joyce placed her hands on her youngest’s shoulders, “Will and Nolan will take really good care of them. And you’re not going to find better food in the whole town. Of course, I might be just a tad biased.”

“Maybe just a bit,” chuckled Will.

“You’re sure?” you asked Steve.

“Of course I’m sure. I can’t wait to meet the people who are responsible for you coming into this world.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “Now I can thank them personally for making one of my favorite people I’ve ever met.”

“Oh my god,” gagged Dustin. “You guys are so sweet it’s sickening.”

“Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have anyone,” Mike mocked, slugging him lightly in the shoulder.

“You know, Dustin, there’s this girl at my work who…” Max began before Dustin cut her off.

“No. No. Absolutely not. Turn around and walk away with that thought right now. I am not going on any more dates that any of you set up for me. The last three have been a disaster. You’d think you don’t know me at all with the girls you try to set me up with.”

“Okay, even I will admit that Tammy wasn’t the best choice, but…,” Lucas admitted.

“But nothing! She was so self-involved. She kept pulling out her compact mirror to check her lipstick every five minutes. And every time I asked her a question or said anything, she said huh?” He opened his mouth wide, his eyes going glassy, clearly doing an impression of the girl. “She couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. And she kept talking about Devon Sawa.”

“I mean…” El shrugged. “He is pretty conversation worthy. Have you seen Wild America?”

Dustin’s eyes rolled up into his head as he gave a loud snort, “And Patricia! Are you kidding me? She told me she didn’t believe in dinosaurs and that fossils were planted by the devil to lure us away from God. You really thought I would mesh well with a girl who doesn’t believe in basic scientific facts?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t hook you up with either of them,” Max shot back. “Tammy was all Lucas and Patricia was all Robin.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know she was such a Jesus nut,” Robin defended. “I met her at the bookstore and she was standing in the Science Fiction section. I thought she’d be exactly your type.”

“The Science Fiction section that is right next to the Religion section?” demanded Dustin. “Did you even glance at the books that were in her arms because I guarantee you there was nothing there written by Dan Simmons or Connie Willis. But there was probably something written by men who claimed God spoke to them.”

“She didn’t have any books in her hands and you were so sad then. It had been months and you were still moping around about Suzie. I just thought going out with someone new might take your mind off of it or at least break you in a bit so you’d be ready to go out with someone new.”

“I was not moping!”

Steve guffawed loudly, “Oh yes you were. I found you laying in your bed, listening to Don’t Speak on repeat.”

“Whatever,” huffed Dustin. “The point is, I have learned my lesson. None of you are hooking me up with anyone ever again. I am more than capable of finding my own dates, thank you.”

“How about me?” you asked and they all turned to look at you. You smiled nervously, shrugging. “I mean, I’m not part of the group.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Mike stated. “Look, you’ve declared your relationship status with Steve. You’re even taking the step of introducing him to your parents. You have solidified yourself as a member of the group now.”

“Yeah,” agreed Lucas. “And I’m sorry to say, once you’re in there is no getting out. So, you’re stuck now.”

“It’s true,” Nolan shrugged. “Trust me. Once you’ve been inducted into the group there is no escape.”

Who were these people? Most people would be suspicious of a newcomer, or at least a little cautious, maybe a tad reserved until they got to know them but not them. They just accepted you. Steve was dating you so you were okay with them. Honestly, the way they just enfolded you into their group left you feeling so warm and fuzzy, like a sweater straight out of the dryer that just wrapped comfortably around your skin.

“Be that as it may, and for the record, I am perfectly okay with that seeing as I have no intention of trying to escape, I haven’t always been a part of this group. So you have no idea how my matchmaking skills are. And there’s this new nurse at my work. Her name is Heather and she’s really cute. Blond curls, gray blue eyes, adorable glasses…and she is totally into all that science stuff. I saw her reading "Neverwhere” the other day on her lunch.”

“A Gaiman fan, huh?” Dustin’s thumb and forefinger came to his chin, considering. Oh yeah, she had him interested. “That might have potential. How old is she?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Okay. What was she eating for lunch?”

“Why does that matter?” you laughed.

“Because it does. What was she eating?”

“A bologna sandwich, potato chips, and oreos.”

“Good taste in lunch food, too. Alright. I’ll tell you what. Since I don’t know you that well and you’ve never hooked me up with anyone, I will give you a shot. But just one. If this date goes sideways, no one…and I mean no one who is standing here right now gets to try to set me up ever again.”

“To be fair, I’ve never gotten a turn,” Joyce stated.

“Mama Joyce, while I love you with all the depth of the ocean blue, no thank you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re sweet. You’re kind. You’re everything a mother should be and for all intents and purposes, you’re all of our mothers. But you married Hopper so I’m not entirely sure of your judgement skills.”

“Hey…what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hopper blurted, folding his arms over his chest.

“I mean, come on Hop. We love you but…it’s like she married Smokey the Bear.”

“Oh yeah? Come here, kid!” He lunged off the porch and Dustin shrieked, darting away from him through the grass.

Your initial fear for the guy dissipated when you noticed they were both laughing. Hopper grabbed onto Dustin, placing him in a headlock and rubbing his fist over the top of his head. Eli and Jeremiah noticed the commotion, Eli jumping off the scooter mid-roll, the new toy dropping to the grass.

“Uncle Dusty! I’ll help you!” Jere cried, racing for Hopper and wrapping his arms and legs around one of the big guy’s.

“I’ll help too!” Eli yelled, wrapping around the other one.

“Oh yeah? Think you can pin me down?” Hopper growled playfully, releasing Dustin. He lifted one foot and then the other, both boys giggling gleefully as he walked slowly around the front yard. “You can’t stop me!”

Steve’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the solidness of him, watching with amusement as the boys released Hopper’s legs and ran at him. The big man dramatically fell to the ground with a loud roar. Mike and Dustin immediately leapt on him, the boys jumping on each of them, and Hopper bellowed loudly.

“See? You both fit right in,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear. “You belong right here with all of us.”

Yeah. It really seemed like maybe you did.

Chapter 14

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crepesuzette2023 · 8 months

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Paul McCartney, Celia Mortimer, Iris & Vi Caldwell & Mike McCartney: Sketches for a Coming-of-Age Novel.

All quotes from TUNE IN by Mark Lewisohn, except the last one.

[Paul] had two main girlfriends in the last weeks of 1962 and neither knew of the other. One was Celia Mortimer, 17, the strikingly attractive redhead from art school who designed her own clothes and was a big Beatles fan at the Cavern.

'In my first year at art College everyone was wild about trad jazz, but then word came up the hill that ‘things were happening’ at the Cavern; a few of us went down one lunchtime to have a look—and there were the Beatles. […] It was the first time anyone in Britain had the black polo neck, black corduroy, existentialist look. I instantly took their lead and started to make hip black corduroy things to wear.'

‘[…] Paul was attractive, intelligent, arty, all the things that appealed to me, plus he was good to be with: a genuine, gentle person who wanted to please. He was the complete opposite of John, who was snarly and grumpy and incredibly, incisively funny. Paul was the nice one. We started to go out, but things were still quite innocent. Because I lived some way out of Liverpool there weren’t many places we could go, except to sit in his dad’s front room or my friend’s front room, or the cinema—we saw the first James Bond film.’ EXOTIC NIGHTMARES

Paul’s other girlfriend was Iris Caldwell—Rory Storm’s witty, pretty, blonde sister; George’s first love; the 18-year-old daughter of Ma Storm, whose house, Hurricaneville at 54 Broad Green Road, was central to the Beatles’ late-night social scene.

‘He had a beautiful voice and puppy-dog eyes,’ Iris says, ‘and he was much more interested in me than I was in him. I wanted more than a tuppence-ha’penny guitarist of a Liverpool group.’ Iris’s professional dancing career had taken off: she was as busy as Paul, working summer seasons and London shows and touring around the country; they could only see each other when their diaries dovetailed, and just as Paul was with Celia when Iris was out of town, she was secretly going out with Frank Ifield. […]

Iris always knew that a big part of the attraction for anyone going out with her or Rory was the chance of extended time at Hurricaneville, to hang longer around her dad Ernie and especially her mum, Vi. […] ‘Mum never chucked anyone out,’ Iris says. ‘We were all late-night people apart from me dad, who the Beatles called the Crusher because he had exotic nightmares and ate household objects.’ […]

Mary had been gone for six years this October, and Vi Caldwell was one of the women who tried to fill the breach. ‘I was practically a mother to Paul,’ she said without boasting. She made him food and drink, took his stage-soaked shirts and washed and ironed them, and shared easy intimacies. ‘Paul used to like her combing his legs,’ Iris says. ‘He had really hairy legs and he’d come in from the Cavern all tired, roll up his trousers and she used to comb his legs. How ridiculous can you get? But he adored my mum and my mum adored him.’

Vi recalls: ‘Paul was very temperamental. He would come on occasions and would be terrifically friendly and down-to-earth, and on other occasions he would come and be rather aloof and we wondered if we had offended him, as if he was thinking ‘I’m being too friendly so I’ll keep you in your place.’ That was our impression.’

THRILLING IN A DIFFERENT WAY

[Paul] was without the others, but with Celia Mortimer…and a new song. It was Tuesday/Wednesday 23/24 October [1962], the Beatles’ sole two-day break of the year, and Paul decided to leave his car at home and have an adventure: he and Celia hitch-hiked to London to see Ivan Vaughan. Paul loved hitching: he enjoyed chatting to strangers and seeing himself in an observational role, but he’d only done it with George or John, never with a girl. Celia—intelligent, chic, a pretty redhead—made it thrilling in a different way. And it was to see the brilliant Ivy, his Institute mate and John’s boyhood pal. […]

The new song was I Saw Her Standing There, though it had no title as yet. Its melody and structure skidded into Paul’s head late on Monday as he drove back from a Nems Enterprises Showdance in Widness. This was a sophistication of delivery had never experienced, inspiration so excitingly hot that when he got to Hurricaneville he grabbed an acoustic guitar and started working it out. […] It was truly a magical moment for Rory Storm, who’d never seen anyone write a song before. Vi and Iris would always maintain that he asked Paul if he could have it, exclusively, and Paul said yes—but as Rory didn’t have a record contract it’s unclear why he asked and Paul may have said yes only to regain some necessary peace and quiet.

Celia: ‘We had an amazing time, just wandering the streets in the sunshine, looking at London, holding hands and having fun, and Paul had the melody of what became I Saw Her Standing There going round his head all day, humming and singing it and fleshing out the words. […] He said, ‘What rhymes with “We danced through the night?” and I came up with ‘We held each other tight’, which was really quite naff, but he used it.’ BACK TO McCARTNEY-LENNON

However, the song was completed only when he had a front parlour session with John at 20Forthlin Road. They tried out little bits on Jim Macs Nems piano but mostly used guitars, working ‘eyeball to eyeball’ just like when they’d first written together here as schoolboys. Mike took photographs of them sitting by the little tiled fireplace—important historic images, the only such photos ever taken—so here we see these two sharp ambitious tuned-in young man looking down at an old Liverpool Institute exercise book in which Paul has written the words, complete with plenty of crossings-out. John is wearing his black horn-rim glasses and playing his Jumbo Gibson, Paul is playing a cheap Spanish acoustic of unknown history. Another original, a McCartney-Lennon one, is taking shape right here, right now. BIG PLAYER CELIA AND THE OTHER McCARTNEY BOY

Celia Mortimer’s relationship with Paul ended in the last weeks of 1962. ‘As the Beatles spent more time in London, Paul was there and not in Liverpool so much, and our situation just fizzled out. There was no time for it.’ She went on to become a big player on the London fashion scene, with her own label and studio on Great Portland Street, just a long from where she spent a few hours with Paul in 1962. In between times, she went out for a long time with Mike McCartney and was part of the Liverpool poetry scene.

Mike (a Ladies’ hairdresser at the time): MY FIRST LOVE AND BOB 'FOLK RUBBISH' DYLAN (from The Macs, 1981)

One day my first real love, after mum, walked into the salon; she was one of a group of models posing for the Daily Post and Echo. I was brushing up the hair as it cascaded endlessly down on to the floor. I wasn't exactly the brushing up which excited her, it was the way I did it (isn't it always?). The brush was balanced, she later recalled, on the end of my index finger, the furthest point from my body and, with absolute disdain, I followed it across the shop floor.

Not being a Post and Echo model at all, but in truth a hungry student plying her body for money, she returned for the free evening classes where she became my model, and I discovered that her name was Celia. From a model customer she became a model model, and from a model model we became a model couple.

She was the first woman I gave myself to, and she gave herself in return. In her Husky Street flat we got lost in each other's body and mind; we swam together through many Liverpool 8 late nights and often into the morning, when she would get up to cook breakfast and put on records. I would just lie there, male chauv-like. One morning she kept playing a particular album which didn't impress me.

'Who's that Ceel?'

'Someone they keep playing at college . . . Bob Dylan.'

'Never heard of him.'

'Neither had I, but after a while he's quite good.'

"Ceel—my first real love (after Mum)." Photo by Mike McCartney.

#just me daydreaming #coming-of-age novel #the recurring themes drive me nuts: the chic redhead and the leg combing #The Liverpool Relationship Radiant #Mike and Paul and Celia #John and Paul and Ivy #Etc #Paul and mothers and Paul's complex character #These women were too good for him #paul mccartney #mike mccartney #I saw her standing there #the beatles

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agirlwithdemonblood · 1 year

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The Broken Fan - Chapter 1

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: Growing up was never easy for me, but finally I may have found some light in my very dark world.

Warnings: Mentions of death, parents death, mentions of abuse, homelessness, anxiety, ect

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

Do you ever feel like if you disappeared today, nobody would notice? The world wouldn't stop, your disappearance wouldn't be plastered on milk cartons or across news channels, nobody would even know or care. That was my life. Nobody knew me, or cared for me. Nobody noticed me, not really. I was a ghost, an invisible presence left alone, all alone.

My parents died when I was a baby, I was too young to remember who they were or what happened really. I know what my Aunt told me, they wanted a night to themselves, so she babysat me. Around 4 in the morning she received a phone call saying that they passed away, asleep in their beds when the fire took their lives.

I don't even remember having parents, I have photographs of us together, but their faces are unknown to me. I didn't know them, I didn't get the chance.

After the fire, I stayed with my Aunt. Things were weird there. She'd look at me with such heartbreak and disgust and I had no idea why. I was just a kid, what did I do?

But I must have done something wrong, because when I turned 6 she told me she couldn't take care of me anymore, and the next morning two kind people packed me in their car and drove me away. I never saw my Aunt again.

My first foster home was alright, I was happy for a little bit. There were a lot of kids in the house, various ages, both sexes. I didn't like the kids too much. They were loud and annoying, and hyper. They always wanted to play stupid games like hide and seek, or tag. I didn't want to play dumb games, I wanted something real. I wanted to connect, to have somebody next to me.

And eventually, I did.

Henry, my foster dad, was always there for me. He actually cared about me, noticed me, heard me. He would spend hours at night reading me fairy tales until I fell asleep, and during the day he'd teach me things like how to ride a bike or read.

I had an actual connection with him, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I loved him more than anybody. I thought I finally had somebody permeant in my life, but I was wrong.

My foster mom Sandy didn't like me. She hated the fact that her husband had his attention on me, and she thought it was strange for a six year old to bond with an older man rather than the children all around me. She said it wasn't healthy.

So he was taken away from me. After many tears shed and heartbreaking hugs, I said goodbye to the only person who's ever seen me for me, and moved to a new foster home.

The new home was horrible. The parents weren't friendly, and I was the only child in their care. I was forced to follow their schedule which consisted of three boring things, every day.

Cleaning, school, homework, food, bed. No reading fairy tales, no riding my bike, no playing with toys.

I hated it there. I felt so alone, so invisible. So I left. I ran away thinking I'd be better off somewhere else. But as a 7 year old girl, I didn't get very far and as soon as I returned, things got bad.

At first, it was the belt. My foster dad would smack my arms hard, than my legs, sometimes my face if I was a bad enough kid. If I cried or continued to disobey, the belt was replaced with his palms. This happened for years, non stop torture.

I didn't stop trying to run away, every few months I'd take off, praying that nobody would find me, they'd leave me alone but everytime I was brought back and beaten worse.

Finally, the parent's gave up on me and I went to another home. But I was so angry, so filled with anxiety and rage that I drove away anybody who could possibly care for me.

By the time I was 18, I had been in 13 Foster homes. My last one wasn't too bad, but I didn't talk, I barely ate, I didn't connect. I didn't want another Henry situation. I didn't want to care about others because I knew they'd leave me.

And I was right.

On my 18th Birthday, my present was a knock at my door from my parents telling me I've aged out and I need to leave. I received a check to get me started, a bag of food, and a cell phone, than I was left alone.

The money wasn't much, definetly not enough to get an apartment so I decided to get a car instead. I ended up using all my money to buy a crappy little Honda Civic and I've called it my home ever since.

Sleeping in my car wasn't half bad, I had my own space, I didn't need to listen to anybody or share it with anybody, it was all mine.

One night I parked beside a motel that had free Wifi, and I was bored so I decided to find something to watch, I never really watched TV or movies, but tonight I wanted to.

The first show I found was something called Supernatural, and for some reason I felt a connection, like something was telling me to watch it.

God, am I happy that I did.

The show felt like home, it gave me something to look forward to, something to provide me comfort on the hardest of days. I felt connected, like I knew the characters and I was living their life.

And one of the characters, Dean.. He awoke something inside of me that I never knew was there. He made me feel like I wasn't crazy, that life was hard but I needed to keep going.

The more I watched, the more I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. The show pulled me out of the darkness slowly, convincing me that life was better if I was here to live it. It gave me hope. It allowed me to breathe again.

Today is my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating like I always did, drinking beer in my car and listening to music while mindlessly scrolling through a page for Supernatural fans.

I froze when I glanced about an article about Supernatural's newest convention, which happened to be a few hours from where I lived. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about going, people like me don't go to shows or events like this, but I needed this. I really needed it.

I checked my bank account and nearly leaped with joy when I realized I had enough for a ticket, living in my car finally payed off.

Without hesitation, I bought a ticket for the convention and for the first time, I felt excited. I felt hope beaming inside of me. I could finally be surrounded with people with similar interests, and feel normal for once. Hopefully.

The next morning, I walked into the office building I worked at, and made my boss Brad a coffee, like he always expected. Knocking on his door, I took a deep breath before entering, walking towards his marble desk and placing the coffee on the table.

He nodded before taking the cup in his hand and sipping it, like he always did. His eyes flickered up towards me when he noticed I haven't left yet.

"Do you need something?" He asked.

I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the desk, "I just wanted to ask you something if you had a moment."

He nodded for me to go on and I shook off the anxiety nearly suffocating me. Confidence, I need to have confidence.

"I was wondering if I could take a week off starting Friday evening, there's somewhere I need to go out of town."

He stared back at me, the silence was suffocating, the tension high. He shook his head and looked back down to the papers scattered across his desk.

"No, sorry that won't work."

It felt like a punch to my gut, I haven't taken one day off, I constantly worked overtime, I did everything and anything for this ass, and I can't take some time off?

I swallowed down the nerves and sat in the chair in front of his desk, noting the way he stared at me confused. "Sir, all due respect I have been working non stop for the past 7 months and I have never asked for a day off, I've never taken a sick day and I always have my work done, all I need is-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was raised, eyes locked on mine. "I said no Y/N, is that all?"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I stood from my spot, making my way towards the door. Anger was bubbling through my system and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I turned quickly and sighed, "Actually, there's one more thing."

He scoffed and looked up towards me, awaiting my response. I swallowed hard and frowned, "I am not going to be back tomorrow, I quit."

His mouth dropped open and he stared back in shock, but I didn't stay long to hear whatever response he was going to throw at me. I rushed as fast as I could out of the building back to my car. I slammed the door as the tears rushed down my face.

What did I do? Why did I quit my job for a convention? What the hell was so special about this damn show.

I finally let go of all the feelings I was holding onto, bursting into sobs of pain and frustration. Life was harsh and unforgiving, every moment of hope was washed away.

The only thing I had left was the convention, and even than I was clearly going to be the outcast, the weird girl who looks like she's never showered or slept a day in her life.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would be different here, the fans seem nice enough online, why wouldn't they be in person?

And if Dean Winchester was still inside Jensen, I knew he wouldn't look at me like I was garbage, if he ever even noticed me.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#supernatural one shot #jensenxyou #spn fic #jensen x reader #dean x reader #jensen's smile #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean

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cami-stuffs · 5 months

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Pushing Towards You

Chapter 18: Increasing The Family

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone!

Warnings: Hormone Therapy; Pregnancy; Egg retrieval procedure.

It had already been a few days since the weekend that Calista and Larissa spent together. In the meantime, an extra key to the apartment and space in the two wardrobes were provided. Calista expected Larissa only to visit her sometimes because she knew working late was the principal's favorite sport. But, she was surprised to realize that Larissa now spent more nights with her than in her room at the Academy.

For Calista, having company at home was not something new. First, it was Gaia with whom she shared the house when they started a relationship, and then they married. Then came Artemis and her lively and expansive manner. Even after the divorce, she was not alone. Her daughter spent many days of the week with her, and Gaia also appeared frequently.

So those months in Jericho were the first in the twenty-two years she had spent alone. Calista handled this loneliness well, but she didn't like it. She was used to sharing space with someone else. Talk, watch television, eat meals, or just be silent, but always be accompanied. Divorced from Gaia and with Artemis spending more time in Nevermore, Calista spent her afternoons alone after work.

When she and Larissa started dating, Calista realized that she would still spend many afternoons alone before Larissa could take a break from work. Calista knew the principal well enough to see the dedication with which she worked. Having been married and started a family, Calista knew that this dynamic was challenging, and as much as she wanted to, she never asked Larissa to meet her outside of the scheduled day. Eventually, she got used to it.

However, after meeting with Dr. Maina, Larissa seemed to change her stance. She moved closer to Calista. Then, she received the key to the apartment. It became a routine for Larissa to arrive early in the evening with dinner or in time to cook dinner. Automatically, a dynamic was established. Larissa cooked, and Calista washed the dishes.

Most nights, Larissa needed to work, which was inevitable, but she would settle on the couch with her laptop, and Calista would lie down next to her to watch television or read a book. When work went on longer than expected, Calista would nap on the sofa, and Larissa would take her to bed before returning to work.

On the Friday nights that Larissa couldn't sleep with Calista in the apartment, she would bring Artemis with her on Saturday after breakfast. The girl was now ultimately used to Larissa and even suggested to her mother that she transform her room in the apartment into an office so the principal could work. But Calista was still resistant to removing Artemis's space, and Larissa agreed; she said she could perfectly work on the couch.

The weeks quickly passed, and winter break approached in Nevermore. Calista expected to have Artemis and Larissa at home simultaneously, as school activities would be interrupted. Although the two were getting along well, it would be the first time they would spend time together as a family. Gaia had decided to stay in Nevermore, as her family didn’t celebrate Christmas and New Year since her father's death. That way, just like Thanksgiving, the four of them would spend Christmas together.

A week before Christmas, Calista received a visit from Dr. Maina in the hospital pharmacy where they worked. He would like to schedule the collection of biological material for the end of that week, and to do so, it was necessary to induce Calista's ovulation. The doctor wanted to take advantage of the break to take the samples to his laboratory in his homeland, so he would like the collection to be carried out as close to the holiday as possible.

The procedure would be relatively simple. Six days after induction, the doctor would collect the eggs using an ultrasound. However, Calista would need to be anesthetized and rest for twelve days. Dr. Sharma was aware of the events and promptly permitted Calista to leave for as long as necessary.

Larissa and Artemis's procedure would be even more straightforward as a collection of buccal swabs and blood samples. For both, it was enough to compare the genetic material between them. For Calista, it was necessary to verify that her eggs were indeed chimeras and contained Larissa's DNA.

As time was short, Dr. Maina wanted to perform the hormonal injection that same day in Calista so that the eggs would be available by the end of the week. He warned her of the likely adverse effects that appeared in the days after the injection, such as mood changes, sensitivity, and fatigue. For Calista, it wasn't very different from what she felt during Artemis's pregnancy; anyway, she told Larissa that the next few days could be more difficult when she got home.

----------

No sooner said than done. Calista's mood changed drastically in the days following hormone therapy. It was the first whole week that Larissa slept in the apartment. She didn't want to stay at Nevermore lest it seemed like she was running away from the bad times, so Larissa took advantage of it being the last week before winter break and finished work at the office early so she could be home to cook dinner.

She didn't regret the decision but was torn between comical and exasperation now that Calista was complaining about things she usually wouldn't do. No complaints were directed at Larissa, but she avoided giving Calista a reason to change her mood. Larissa almost managed to keep the peace between them until the night before the collection; anxiety and hormones won.

As always, Larissa sat on the sofa after dinner, with her laptop on her lap to finish some matters before the break. Calista lay down beside her, placed a pillow on Larissa's outer thigh, and lay down. Nothing different that could be a cause for warning. Out of nowhere, Calista got angry and sat down, looking at Larissa.

"You didn't pay attention to anything I said, did you?" She glared at Larissa.

Fact: Larissa was responding to an email and had not heard what was said. She would regularly apologize and give all the attention to a Calista who would patiently repeat herself. But that night, Larissa didn't have time to speak when Calista stood up, stomping her feet towards the bedroom.

"Just because I'm angry, you ignore me? Wait and see when I'm pregnant; you'll get tired of me." Calista passed through the hallway and entered the room.

It was the first time she mentioned a possible pregnancy. And Larissa was taken by surprise. Still, she wanted to take advantage of the cue. "I don't get tired easily, darling. You will be the most beautiful and spoiled pregnant woman in the world!" She shouted so Calista could hear from the bedroom.

"That's the spirit." Was the answer she heard. Seconds later, Calista reappeared. "And another thing, I won't be a single mother. I want marriage! The whole package! Again!" She had one hand on her hip, and one finger pointed at Larissa.

Larissa was startled when she heard the word marriage. Her eyes moved from the laptop screen to the face of an angry Calista; she nodded and said, "I took note of that, my love. The whole package."

Calista huffed a "very good" before returning to the bedroom, leaving a helpless Larissa sitting in the living room.

Larissa now had a furious partner, an unmade marriage proposal, the possibility of a child on her hands, and no idea what led to the whole argument. She decided to end the night early and went to bed. She knew Calista hadn't slept that quickly, but she was silent and sneakily got under the covers. Without saying anything, Calista adjusted her body so that Larissa could spoon her. With a giggle, Larissa wrapped her arms around Calista and kissed her shoulder. Before falling asleep, she made a mental note to look for wedding rings.

----------

Calista woke up with regret the next day. The guilt was not for what she said but for how she said it. She had been considering having children with Larissa since the weekend the two spent with Artemis in Nevermore. And marriage was the natural order of things as their relationship progressed and became more solid.

But Calista's intention was not to scream that in the middle of the night, driven by the flood of hormones washing over her body. She intended to talk to Larissa, perhaps between Christmas and New Year or, who knows, after the test results were released. However, it was already too late. She had already opened her heart in an explosive and unplanned way.

She was awake, making breakfast, when Larissa carefully exited the shower and went to the kitchen, sitting on the counter stool. Calista had heard all the movement and wasn't scared when a "good morning" broke the silence. She turned around and was met with Larissa's light but restrained smile. A whisper of good morning escaped her.

"Are you feeling better?" Larissa took a risk.

Calista sighed, walked around the counter, placed herself between Larissa's legs, and wrapped her arms around the other’s neck.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you last night. Out of nowhere, anger rose, and I exploded at you." Calista explained herself, looking Larissa in the eyes.

"It's okay, sweetheart." Larissa smoothed Calista's hair, afraid that everything said had been lip service. "Let's just forget about it and move on. Soon, the effect of the hormone will wear off."

"No. I don't want you to forget what I said. I want you to forget how I said it. It wasn't how I planned to tell you I'm considering marriage and possibly having a baby." Calista was smiling widely now, her initial embarrassment having passed.

Larissa hugged Calista's waist and brought her close to her body, kissing her all over her face while murmuring, "Thank you." Leaning her forehead against Calista's, Larissa whispered, "You can't imagine how happy I am, Lis. I love you so much."

Calista cupped Larissa's face with both hands and kissed her. "I love you too, Riss." She whispered back with a smile. "Besides, you were pretty brave this week, staying with me. I would have stayed at Nevermore if I were you." Calista returned to the kitchen to serve breakfast.

"Wow, I didn't know that was an option!" Larissa was in disbelief. "I figured you'd consider me a runaway for staying away when you needed it most." She confessed.

Calista laughed. “You did well. The way I was last night, I would have called and yelled at you anyway."

"The yelling was worth it. At least now I know you want to marry me." Larissa shrugged, laughing.

"Did you have any doubts about that?" Calista looked up from her plate.

"You were already married, right? I wasn't sure if you would like to get married again or just maintain a stable relationship." Larissa responded sincerely.

"My marriage with Gaia ended because there was simply no longer compatibility between us. I don't advocate against marriage because my experience was good for many years." Calista explained. "But yes, the mindset of many divorced women with a teenage daughter is that they don't want to get married again. Marriage is a challenge, in my opinion. Just like motherhood. So I want the whole package." Calista smiled, remembering the phrase from the previous night's argument.

"And so it shall be, my love." Larissa smiled, drinking her coffee.

Gaia and Artemis arrived a few minutes later and waited for Calista and Larissa to leave the building. As Calista would be anesthetized and Larissa would take care of her after the procedure, Gaia wanted to drive her and Artemis back to the Academy later that afternoon. About thirty minutes later, the four arrived at the hospital in Burlington.

----------

The egg retrieval procedure was successful, and Calista was soon asleep in the hospital room. Larissa, Artemis, and Gaia remained with her until she woke up. Dr. Maina would observe her until late afternoon and then discharge her to rest at home. With that in mind, Gaia and Artemis went for lunch, promising to bring something for Larissa to eat, as the latter didn't want to leave Calista's side.

Calista insisted that Larissa accompany the other two to the cafeteria, justifying that she was fine and that the nurses would aid her if needed. But nothing convinced Larissa, who dragged a chair to Calista's bedside and sat there, holding her hand and talking. Now and then, she would ask if Calista was okay, only to receive a smile and a nod.

When Dr. Maina entered the room, Larissa and Calista were still alone. He checked all of Calista's vital signs and prescribed medication in case she felt any gynecological pain or discomfort. She should rest for two days to avoid bleeding and gradually return to daily activities. Larissa paid attention to every word the doctor said, glancing at Calista as if to say she would ensure everything was done correctly.

According to the doctor, the results would only be ready after the holidays, and as soon as he had them, he would meet with the four women again. This way, none of them needed to be anxious to receive any news because nothing would come.

"Doc, Calista and I are thinking about having children." Larissa glanced at Calista. "I was wondering if you could give me the contact details of the couple where the shapeshifter woman used her abilities to get her partner pregnant."

"Congratulations to you both on your decision." The doctor said. "Unfortunately, doctor-patient confidentiality does not allow me to share personal data. However, I am committed to conveying the message to them, and if they are interested, they can contact you. What do you think, Ms. Weems? "

"Perfect, Doctor. I would appreciate it. Ah, before you leave." the doctor was about to leave when Larissa called him back. "The mood changes due to hormonal treatment; how long do they last?"

"Are you giving her trouble, Ms. Cos'Anto?" The doctor smiled.

"Let's just say these last few days haven't been easy." Calista smiled back, squeezing Larissa's hand.

"It shouldn't take long. In a few more days, the effect will wear off. Just a little more patience." The doctor said, nodding and leaving the two women alone.

"Do you think the female couple will get in touch?" Calista asked Larissa casually when she sat down next to her again.

"I have no idea. But I'll look for the information myself if they don't." Larissa took Calista's hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles. "I learned how to be a shapeshifter independently; this is just another step further."

"I'll be by your side through this process, Riss," Calista assured Larissa.

"I know, darling." Larissa smiled and patted Calista's hand.

With Gaia and Artemis back from the cafeteria, Larissa allowed herself to leave Calista's side and let Artemis keep her company. The girl wanted to plan Christmas dinner and was excited to spend it as a family again, like Thanksgiving. She, Gaia, and Larissa would take care of the preparations for supper, while Calista would take care of lighter tasks following the doctor's orders not to exert herself.

----------

On Christmas morning, Calista's apartment was filled with the smell of food being cooked. The other three women were busy in the kitchen except for Calista. Sitting on the kitchen stool, Calista watched the movement and helped occasionally.

Larissa was wearing an apron she brought from Nevermore, as Calista's didn't fit her. She hummed and sipped her red wine as she busied herself with the turkey in the oven. Occasionally, she would cast tender glances at Calista. It had been a few years since Larissa had company for Christmas. Some years, she attended friends' parties; others, she traveled abroad.

In the days leading up to Christmas, while Larissa took care of Calista, they talked about how they wanted the holidays to be from now on. They had not yet told Gaia and Artemis about their plans to get married and have children, but Larissa said that if everyone agreed, she would like them to spend successive Christmases together.

Calista knew this need came from Larissa not getting along with her family, and her Christmases were always miserable. Now that she was about to start her own family with the woman he loved, she wanted to celebrate it yearly.

Artemis was delighted. She didn't know what spending Christmas away from her mothers was like. Even though they were divorced, Gaia and Calista were always together on these commemorative dates. And now, the girl had Larissa to complete the combo. The genetic test results would still take some time to be ready, but the young shapeshifter already considered Larissa part of the family, even if she didn't date her mother.

Calista watched the interaction between Larissa and Artemis and found it difficult to believe that she had not made the association between them for many years, even though they were physically highly similar. Artemis's personality was a mix of Calista's and Gaia's, but as she got closer to Larissa, the girl seemed to acquire some of the principal's traits.

Gaia, in turn, was, as she always was, at ease. She drank beer while cooking, teased Artemis, joked about Calista getting rid of cooking, and reminded Larissa that they were now family in addition to being boss and employee. Her relationship with Ms. Mitchell was not serious, but Calista noticed that from time to time, Gaia answered messages on her cell phone.

The Christmas decorations had been left to Artemis while Larissa and Gaia went shopping the day before. The girl set up the Christmas tree-hung garlands and lights while making Calista listen to an annoying Christmas playlist that made her dance around the room while decorating the apartment. Artemis always liked Christmas, a legacy very well inherited from Calista. Together, the two made Gaia start to like it too, and now their goal was to awaken the feeling in Larissa.

The four of them spent an enjoyable afternoon together. There was no lunch; they snacked throughout the day while cooking and drinking. As Calista couldn't make much effort, she set the dinner table, placing herself and Larissa beside Gaia and Artemis beside each other and facing the other two.

During dinner, Larissa and Calista revealed their intention to get married and have children. Artemis squealed with joy and got up to hug her mother. Without thinking, she grabbed Larissa and gave her a tight hug. The principal was surprised; despite showing affection for each other, they were always restrained in their demonstrations. When Artemis hugged her, Larissa took a few seconds to understand what was happening until she smiled and kissed the girl's head, thanking her for the well wishes.

Gaia, in turn, congratulated Calista and exchanged a smile with Larissa, raising the glass and nodding. Calista noticed the looks and felt an air of conspiracy between her ex-wife and future wife. There was no envy or jealousy between them. Gaia had long ago accepted that her relationship with Calista was friendship and that the love they once had for each other was personalized in Artemis. Larissa understood that Gaia would always be there because she was the girl's mother, and Calista had spent enough time married to her for the bond never to be broken.

The night ended with the four sitting on the couch, stuffing themselves with food and watching a cliché Christmas movie. Larissa and Artemis wanted hot chocolate, and Calista happily prepared their favorite drink. Gaia remained with her beer, and Calista with the wine.

On her wrist, Larissa sported a gold bracelet set in crystals and engraved with her and Calista's initials. Larissa knew that Calista loved watches, and on their first Christmas together, Larissa gave her a white gold Rolex and diamonds that matched what the blonde thought was appropriate.

----------

The next day, Calista was alone at home packing up leftover food from the night before and getting ready to wash what seemed like endless dishes. Gaia, Larissa, and Artemis left for Nevermore because the girl wanted to hike in the forest. It had been a while since Larissa had ventured onto the Academy's grounds, so she decided to accompany Gaia and Artemis.

Before leaving, she left orders for Calista to rest, and when they returned, they would tidy up everything. But Calista wasn't in pain or tired; she was bored of the limitations imposed on her. Deciding that if she used her telekinesis to bring everything that needed to be put away and cleaned close by, she would keep her promise not to move around too much, she set to work.

It was almost lunchtime, and the other three should have been close to getting home when the cell phone rang. It was Larissa. Calista answered, happy to hear her beloved's voice, but was greeted with a deep and urgent voice. An accident had happened. Artemis was admitted unconscious to the nearest hospital, and Larissa was on her way to the apartment to pick up Calista. At the same time, Gaia remained at the hospital, keeping the girl company.

Chapter 17 | Chapter 19

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thesmokingguns · 1 year

Text

Picking Peach Chapter One

Warning: Minors DNI 18+ does have a small oral sex scene, talks of age gap, mental health, cheating

Word Count: 6470

A/N: Sorry this is so long. Part one is here and I plan on writing more of this this weekend. I hope you all like it <3

July 16, 2021

Ben POV

Peach? Who was this Peach everyone was posting pictures of and wishing a happy birthday to? All these pictures of a pretty blonde with a smile on her face that could solve all the problems of the world. She was gorgeous and that was putting it lightly. She seemed to know everyone but why didn’t I know her?

There were pictures of her out, never a drink in hand but always in some shade of pink like she was a young Anna Nicole Smith. She seemed younger than 27, but that was what everyone was wishing her. A happy 27th. 13 years younger than me. Lucky 13. Her arms around Instagram models and her arms around rockstars. And her lips on…Nikki SIxx? Well… that didn’t seem to fit.

A quick follow on Instagram before some more web sleuthing and it turns out she had been with him for nearly a decade. The age difference of thirty six years made me blow out a breath. Even in Gold Diggers the age difference hadn’t been that big. This was a lifetime.

But the way she looked up at him and how he looked at her…he knew that he had something in her. Lucky old man.

Still…

‘Happy Birthday “Peach”. Surely that can’t be your real name?’

I sent the Instagram DM, looking around the airport like someone would know I had flirted with someone else's girlfriend. Was I flirting? Maybe.

My heart leapt when I saw that she added me back, a quick red heart from liking my message showed up and my pulse quickened as I waited, watching her type and then ‘Thank you. Haha. Nikki called me Peach years ago and it just stuck.’

No name. Nothing and for some reason I hated the idea of calling her Peach. I needed to know her real name.

‘But if you promise not to tell a soul…Sasha Jade.’

I smirked at this, licking his lips as he tasted the smile on my face. My fingers typing out a new message to her. I just needed more, this magnet pulling me towards her for some reason as I waited for my flight back to LA

‘I’ll take it to the grave. Happy Birthday, Sasha Jade.’

She didn’t respond, just liked the message but it was enough for me now.

Peach POV

My real name. What a curious thing to ask for. I sat back, smirking at the idea of someone in the world knowing me by my name and not a nickname that Nikki had given to me years ago and I had got stuck with. How curious Ben Barnes was. This handsome British actor I vaguely knew about. Very handsome. Very good looking. Not young young but young enough that Peach was interested.

“You’re smiling at your phone, birthday girl.” Nikki’s hands were on my shoulders as he leaned in kissing my cheek. My hands went over his hand as I closed my phone not needing him to squint over my shoulder at what I was doing.

I was so tired lately.

“Mhh, Sami was texting me about LA being too crowded. She is buying a house in Colorado so she can survive the zombie apocalypse she is sure is coming any day now.” he laughed into my ear and i forgot all about that man sliding into my DM, turning to wrap my arms around Nikki, feeling his lips on mine as he kissed me.

It was nice being home.

The pandemic last year had been a difference in our lives. Before the pandemic we would travel and get to see the world together. But being forced to stay still as the world went to hell changed us. Nikki was looking for things to do and my anxiety got out of hand. I was so nervous doom scrolling the news that I had to go to a new therapist and NIkki insisted that I do an inpatient at a private hospital for a week until I calmed down.

It wasn't the first time Nikki had guided me like this. Sometimes my feelings were too much and he needed me to take a break. But sometimes it made me afraid thinking when I would feel too much again.

“I might go lay down for a bit.” Nikki was pulling away, frowning at me as I said this and I wondered what I had said that was wrong

“Really, Peach?” I blinked, confused as I saw the way his face darkened, “You know I’ve been working on my book. I took today off for your birthday and you just want to sleep?” he scoffed as I stood up, wrapping my arms around myself as I watched him walk away from me, having to chase after him.

It was always me running after him.

“Nikki, please. What do you want to-”

“I’m going to write Peach. Enjoy your nap.” his office door shut as I frowned, pressing my hands to my eyes as I thought about screaming.

Everyone thought I got everything I wanted but all I got was locked doors and the taste of my own tears. It was nine years with Nikki this coming September and yet instead of being solid I felt shakier than ever.

He would be touring again and I felt sick at the thought; when I was 21 Nikki toured in 2015. I was finishing up school and couldn’t come with him but it was when Instagram was big, so I saw the pictures of him cheating on me online. It was the first time my emotions got too big for Nikki and he found me a pretty little place to stay in Malibu where they kept me calm and I talked about how I could be better.

I forgave him. Of course I did. He had taken care of me and I was young, and thought it was my fault for not being there. I took the blame for his faults.

But now…thinking of the tour he was going on again…I was sick.

Pulling the blanket over my head I breathed in and out, pulling out my phone and feeling my cheeks pink as I reached for my airpods, pressing them in as I started scrolling through Instagram.

Why had Ben Barnes DM’d me?

Mutual people we followed. Posts he might have seen. And- Oh…a like on a picture from 2015. What a finger slip. I smirked as I slid back to my DM’s, glad he was looking at my pictures so I didn’t make this awkward.

‘Deep Diving, I see. Anything you’re looking for?’

Ben POV

Fucking bloody hell.

I had been jostled on the plane and my damned finger hit a photo, liking it. And not even ten seconds later there was a message from Sasha showing up to show that this was not going unnoticed and she knew I was looking at all her photos.

‘I am thoroughly embarrassed. And to be caught so soon… Aren’t you celebrating your birthday?’

Downside was that I looked like a crazy person liking old posts but the plus side was that she was talking to me.

‘To overshare I’m having a Lesley Gore sort of birthday.’

My frown settled on my face. That wasn’t a very good birthday. I looked around, thankful for the privacy of first class as I held up my phone, singing into it. She deserved a Happy Birthday song sung to her. I wasn’t going to overthink it, just sing ‘Happy Birthday to Sasha’ and sending the voice memo.

This was overstepping a line. But she looked gorgeous in her pictures and I was curious as to why this beautiful girl was with an old man…

Shit.

Shit. What happens if he is with her and hears me singing happy birthday to his girl? What was I thinking? Why can’t I resist a pretty face why could I-

‘You’re an angel, Ben Barnes.’

An angel.

I smirked, tasting the smile on my lips again as I eased back in my seat and started sending more messages to her, wanting to hear all about her. I could only learn so much from pictures. What I hadn’t expected was the flight from New York to LA to be filled with learning about her, sharing stories as fast as our fingers could type. We exchanged selfies, mine on the plane, pillow around my neck and her in bed, an oversized hoodie on and just pretty eyes poking out for me to see.

She should be dancing for her birthday, enjoying the day and seeing her alone in bed as she deflected saying that she didn’t want to go out made me think there was a lot I didn’t know, a lot to learn about Sasha.

But I felt like we were friends now, so that was a huge step in a short time. I just had a feeling we were destined to be more than that.

Especially when she gave me her number and the invitation to let her know when I got home safe.

Nikki POV

Looking up I realized my office was bathed in darkness. My neck heart from typing and I pulled off my glasses, rubbing the bridge of my nose, realizing that I had spent the better part of the day holed up in here writing. I had gotten a ton done but I was shocked that Peach hadn’t snuck in, looking for attention. Especially since it was her birthday.

Her birthday which she had chosen to spend alone.

Peach had been sad lately. The type of sad that sometimes called for trips to the doctors to make her feel better. Poor Peach. My sweet broken girl who needed help putting a smile on her face.

I hadn’t even given her the gifts I had gotten for her.

Pushing up from the chair I stretched, feeling the kinks in my back as I moved my body, stretching as I grabbed the bags from the closet, shuffling upstairs. I expected to hear quiet but instead I heard soft laughter and the sound of the TV on. My eyebrows furrowed together as I saw Peach, smiling as she watched something on TV, her phone to her ear as she laughed again, a smile on her face that I had forgotten she had.

Her eyes landed on me and I watched it crumble. Her hand going to the remote to pause the show, some Game of Thrones looking thing.

“I..I’m sorry I have to go. Thank you for calling and letting me know you were safe. And thank you for the Happy Birthday…it was…thank you. Bye-Bye.” she hung up, tucking her phone under her as she looked at me, all big eyes and pretty pout as she crawled over the bed, making that oversized hoodie she was wearing look more like lingerie than anything else. “I gave you lots of time to work on your book. Are you happy with me, daddy?” I groaned as I set her presents on the bed, taking Peach in my arms and kissing her deeply.

She roped her arms around me, pulling me against her as I laid her down on the bed, wanting to make up for ignoring her. I Wanted her to know that I was sorry. Wanting to-

“Can I open my presents?” she was biting her lip, giving me that spoiled little smirk of hers and I knew I couldn’t say now. She was delighted as she dove in. tearing packaging off designer packages and clapping her hands with delight.

I loved watching Peach be spoiled.

“Nikki!” She threw herself in my arms kissing me all over as I held her. Breathing her in, “Thank you.” Her voice was muffled against my chest, her eyes on me sparkling as I sighed, hands tangling with her hair, drawing her in and kissing her forehead.

My sweet Peach.

This book had be remembering moments of my life that I had wanted to forget, putting me in a state of constant go, trying to move away from the bad. Poor Peach was getting caught up in the running, reaching out to me as I swatted her away.

But I am here with her now.

“Let me take you out, Peach. For your birthday, please?” We could still have dinner. I could save this. I could make this better. She looked at me, nodding her head. A sigh of relief leaving my lips as she scared away to her closet and I plopped down on the bed.

Her work cell phone came out from under her pillow and my eyebrows furrowed. Peach’s main cell phone was on my plan and she barely ever used her ‘LA phone’ as she called it. My eyes glanced at the closet where I could hear her bustling around and licking the corner of my lips as I picked it up. Shocked when I saw that it was locked.

“Peach? Were you working?” I heard the stillness as she poked her head out of the closet, looking at me with a smirk on her face.

“I’m always working.” she teased. “Give me five minutes and I should be done.” she was ducking back inside her closet as I locked at the locked phone again, feeling like something wasn’t quite right with all of this.

Would Peach lie to me?

“We’re still going to LA in October for your book launch?” she asked a moment later stepping out of the closet. It took Peach less than five minutes and she looked like a goddess, making me forget all the curiosity as I lost myself in her beauty.

She was in a pink dress, see through on her stomach with feathers over her breasts, it was short with her legs shimmering with freshly applied lotion I wanted to kiss off and high heels. Her blonde hair was down as she tilted her head putting in crystal big earrings. She had managed to do her makeup, simple but showing off my beautiful girl.

Sometimes it felt like beauty and the beast with her.

“Yeah, did you still want to come?” I asked as she made her way over to me, sitting down on my knee as she pulled at the lapels of my blazer, that smirk of hers driving me crazy as I breathed in the thickness of her perfume.

“I want to go everywhere with you, daddy.” She teased, leaving pink lipstick against my lips as she kissed me, slow and sensual. So unlike the hot and heavy kisses Peach and I usually shared as she slowed things down.

My hands rub her, wanting her as she smirks against my lips pulling away as I groan, reaching for her and pulling her back to me. She wasn’t going anywhere and she knew that.

I needed her and when I needed Peach that’s all I could think of.

…..

September 2021

Peach laughed as she looked at Ben. He threw his hands up at her, joining in with her laughter as she tucked a strand behind her ear. They had started in DM’s around Peach’s birthday, switching to text shortly after, then phone calls and now were in the Facetime era or their friendship. Some (Ben) would declare they were best friends and tease her about how he would get bracelets made for them. BUt it was true. They would Facetime for hours each day as the other just existed. Sharing space with each other, wanting to just be in the presence of each other.

Like now.

Ben was driving to the grocery store, a mundane task, and singing along to whatever was on the radio. His latest rendition of Single ladies having her laughing as she sat outside, knowing Nikki wouldn’t hear her since he was recording his audiobook in the cabin on the other side of the property. It was too loud in the kitchen since renovations were being made after Peach had accidently set it on fire the week before.

As she tucked her hair Ben caught sight of the bandages and remembered the frantic call she had given him. She was crying, unsure what to do. He had walked her through putting out the fire, trying to get her to stop crying before asking where Nikki was. It was the first time he had said the man's name out loud and it hurt worse when he had to tell Peach to go to him because he was sure she had gotten hurt enough that she needed to go to the hospital to treat her burns.

“Are you okay?” he asked her and she nodded her head, feeling stupid for what happened the week prior. No one was mad at her but she had managed to scare everyone with her carelessness. “Are you still coming to LA next month?” She nodded her head, reaching for her water to take a long drink.

She was trying to ignore this conversation but he wasn’t going to allow her to pretend like this couldn’t change their lives. Ben was no fool and very aware that he wanted to meet her in person.

But he knew it would change everything, just like Peach did.

“We can’t meet. You know that and please don’t make me say why.” Ben wanted to hear her say why. Wanted to know that he wasn’t crazy and that she was feeling it too. That this could happen if she opened up about it, “Plus Nikki’s keeping me on a short leash. He wants me to go on the whole tour and I just don’t want to be traveling like that.” Ben was surprised she was talking about Nikki in a negative way.

Sometimes she would let out tidbits of her unhappiness but to say she was on a short leash and give him more clarity shocked him.

“You get motion sick. Not a great thing in a tour bus.” Peach blinked, surprised that he remembered that and grateful that when she spoke someone listened to her. “Maybe you need to break the leash. Stay in your condo. Oh, about that. I went over and checked the place for you. I picked up the keys. You said you were just changing the locks but I wanted to be thorough.” Two people other than Peach knew about the condo she had in LA. Her best friend Sammie and now Ben.

She had always kept it separate not wanting NIkki to get ideas about her real estate and try to take over. Since her and Nikki did keep some finances separate she never thought of it as a lie.

“Thank you for doing that, you’re the best Ben Barnes.” He smiled at her, posing so she would laugh again, “Are you going to Trader Joes? That’s no fair!” He knew she always craved things from the store and planned to stock her condo for when she came to LA in a couple weeks. He wanted her to be able to use this trip to realize that she didn’t have to stay in Wyoming, like a princess stuck in a tower.

Sasha had options.

“Just move to LA and you can come shopping with me. I’ll even let you push the trolley.” She laughed at him and he knew he had used a word wrong, “What? What did i-”

“Are you on the phone with Sammie?” Peach ripped out the headphones, Ben watching the color drain from her face as she hung up with him, “On your work phone? What’s wrong with your regular phone? Did you smash the screen in a tantrum again?” He was teasing her and Peach had to put on her good girl face.

“You have time for me now, Daddy?” Her hands were out, pulling Nikki down on the couch, running her fingers through his hair as he made a soft hmm sound of content with her arms around him.

Peach softened at this, some of her doubts melting away as she felt him. Nikki was exhausted and she felt bad knowing he was trying to use the rest of his life to make all his dreams come true, to leave a legacy. BUt sometimes she felt like there wasn’t enough room for his dreams and to love her.

“Nik?” he made a hmm sound in response, “Do you love me?” He chuckled at this, turning to look up at her, his eyes on Peach who he could see was spiraling lately. Peach who got trapped in her head and made things worse than what they were. His sweet Peach girl looked at him and seemed so desperate as she asked him if he loved her and she meant it, she looked like she didn’t know.

“Peach, you’re my everything.” He said with a sigh, pulling up her shirt and kissing her stomach, “You’re the love that makes it all worth it.” he was closing his eyes as he kissed her soft stomach again.

She was laying on the couch, worried that it wasn’t enough.

October 2021

October came and Nikki looked at Peach with her several suitcases she was wheeling like this wasn’t an insane amount of shit to bring for a week trip to LA. He wanted to make a comment about how she was over packing but Peach had been in a weird mood for months and claimed it was work related.

She was working more. Nikki couldn’t deny that. Her work phone forever in her hands as she typed away. She was doing more brand deals too and he knew she had several projects she was working on when they were in LA. It was one of the first trips that they were going on that had them both planning different things. On one hand Nikki was thankful he wouldn’t have to deal with his pouty princess but on the other hand he was worried that she was overworking herself and would have a breakdown.

“Peach, it’s like you’re moving out.” She looked up at him, a flash of emotion that made his stomach knot on her face before it was masked over and she laughed at him, leaning in to kiss him.

“With the tour coming up I want to make sure I have enough stuff to pack since we’re leaving from LA. Plus cleaning out my closet at home means you can buy me new pretty things.” she teased him.

But Peach had already planned to have six of the bags delivered to her condo in LA that she kept separate from Nikki. She had been using it as additional income as a rental but her tenant had left at the end of August and Peach planned to fix it up a bit. Things weren’t going right and she believed in having an escape plan in all situations.

Nikki treated Peach like a spoiled child but at the end of the day she was worth a few million and had a steady income from her online involvement along with her counseling work she did at a law firm. Which she was going to extend while in LA to see if she could build her worth in case she needed to have more cash on hand. Peach wasn’t stuck in Neverland, the Peter Pan fantasy that she was sure that Nikki had managed to get stuck in at one point. She was growing up and out of being Peach, especially with Nikki not having the time or patience with her anymore.

Peach had a rough life and she never wanted to be as unprepared as she was as a teenager. She harbored a lot of fear of having everything go to hell like it had then and promised herself that she would always land on her feet.

And there was also the Ben situation. Ben who claimed to be her best friend and knew more about her than Nikki did at this point. Ben who left her voice messages of songs he was working on that made her shiver. Ben who had laughed when she told him it was 11:11 to make a wish and yet texted her every 11:11 he was awake for, letting her know he was making wishes. Ben who made Peach feel like herself and not something Nikki had created.

They had managed to stay friends. Just friends because they had never met but now Peach was on a flight to LA and her heart was in her throat as she thought about Ben who she had told more than she should have about Nikki. Ben who had told her she would need to make a decision one day and he would support her either way. Ben who had just left her a voice message as she sat next to Nikki on the plane.

‘Sasha, your fact of the day is about the Horned lizard. The scientific name is Phrynosoma, which I used google to learn how to say . The Horned lizard can shoot blood out of its eyes, up to three feet away. This rather disgusting act is used as a defense and to confuse predators away. Ta-ta now darling. Safe travels.’

Peach kept her face straight, glancing over at Nikki who was typing out messages to people he would visit in LA, getting all the time in with friends he had made along the way. There would be dinners she would need to sit through and places she would smile and get her picture taken at. Nikki claimed he hated LA, talked about what a rat race it was but at the same time when he was there he lived a life he was excited about and Peach could always feel the difference in his moods.

His hand landed on her thigh and she looked at his fingers, worn and tattooed. No ring on his finger. Peach sighed, her hand going over his as she laid her head against Nikki’s shoulder, loving when he remembered she was there and wishing she wasn’t always so desperate to have his attention.

“I have some surprises for you in LA, Peaches and cream. You’ve been such a good girl about being patient with this whole process. I couldn’t have done it without you. And it’s overdue that you get a little spoiled, right?” he teased her gently as she turned her head, burying herself in Nikki’s chest.

Peach felt guilty. Guilty that she had a friend who made her smile, who she turned to because he always had time for her. Made sure of that. And yet he wasn’t next to her right now. No, she was with Nikki. The love of her life and Peach hated worrying about if that was true. Was he the love of her life? Because she often felt like she wasn’t his.

Horned lizards shoot blood out of their eyes but Peach’s just cry.

NIKKI POV

It had been crazier than I had expected in LA. Peach had been less of a pouty brat than I expected and more of a shadow of a person. But I could see it on her face tonight that she was ready to rumble.

“We have two nights left in LA, Nik. And I haven’t seen you at all. Not one dinner. Not one date. Nothing and…what is that?” her head tilted to the side as she looked at the envelope I had in my hand, waving at her in a teasing manner. “Nikki! What is it?” She was dancing around me, her silk robe fanning out as I held it over my head, watching her smile as she wrapped her arms around me, kissing me on the chin to soften me.

“It’s a surprise. We’re going to a show tonight that's more jazz sort of lounge music. And I’m taking you out for dinner to have some one on one time with you.” I leaned in, kissing her as she squealed delighted as she pulled me in, long kisses as I let my hands roam despite knowing we didn’t have the time. I could make time for this. “Show daddy how happy you are with him, Peach.”

She looked at me, trying to hide her shock with a smile as she pressed down into the floor of our bedroom. Hands coming up to undo my jeans as her eyes glanced down at my cock, stroking me as I reached out, hand tangling with her hair. The way she gasped, my tip pushing into her lips catching her off guard.

Perfect.

Peach sucked me, hard as she stroked my shaft, using her lips as she moaned around me letting her tongue roll around my cock as she whimpered around me. She was Pulling off me with a pop, eyes up as she looked at me, stroking me with her lips still plump.

“Lay down, daddy. I want to sit on your face while I suck your cock.” Of course she wanted me to please her too.

I held her thighs, pushing her apart as my tongue slid into her, feeling her moans around my shaft as she choked sliding down me a little further. It had been too long since she had wanted to climb on my face like this and I realized just how starved I was for it. My fingers pressing into her weeping hole as she cried out.

I knew Peach’s body like no other. I could do things to her that she had only experienced with me. I loved how she trembled on me, throwing herself into swallowing the spit and precum as she tried to go deeper and deeper around me. So needy.

“Daddy,” she gagged around me as she shook out, swallowing loads of cum i was depositing into her mouth. Her own body propped up by my hands as she came against my tongue, giving herself up to me.

Peach crawled over, laying against my chest as she had her eyes half closed, ready to take her nap after exhausting herself.

“Tonight is a date night, Peach. No work phone.” she tensed in my arms for a second before nodding her head, pushing off the bed as she stood up, picking up her phone, hesitating for a second before turning it off and putting it in the bedside drawer.

“I’m all yours, NIk. Come shower with me.” her hands were held out and her pout was welcoming me in.

My sweet Peach. I was going to make sure I took time for moments like this more. I hadn’t been the man my girl needed and I needed to fix that.

One surprise ata time.

Peach POV

Ben was staring at me. That sneaky British fucker who looked so good in a suit that my mouth watered like I was hungry. His eyes were locked on mine as he sipped his scotch and he didn’t have the grace to look away. Nikki was on my arm, holding a bottle of water as I held my purse with two hands to keep them busy, wondering why out of all the shows Nikki wanted to go to we ended up here.

He was walking towards us? Eyes eating me up as I wished he didn’t look at me like that. Giving me knots in my stomach as I thought of how I should have never started talking to him.

“Great show man.” Ben smirked at Nikki, taking his eyes off of me as I melted in place, wishing Nikki had not insisted on coming backstage. “I’m Nikki. This is my girl P-”

“Sasha Jade.” I looked up, wide eyed as I heard my name spoken for what seemed like the first time in a decade. He smirked at me, leaning in and kissing my cheek, the bristle of his beard as we breathed each other in. Ben shifted to kiss my other cheek, so close that his lips just brushed over mine as he turned his head and I caught his eyes knowing it was done on purpose.

My head reached out for his bicep to steady myself as I thought about how incredibly small this room was and how I was ready to faint.

Nikki was there though and I let go of Ben as he pulled up, eyes giving me all the emotion I needed to see to know that this was a situation I didn’t need to be in with Nikki. He was already looking at Ben, trying to make sense of what he had just called me and how he knew me.

“I followed Sasha on Instagram a whole or so ago. I didn’t think Peach was her real name.” He looked from me up to Nikki and I wanted to leave. Very badly. The guilt I felt for Dming with him for the past few months was bubbling in my stomach and I felt like I was going to puke.

Nikki was pushing him into conversation, telling him a story about how he had played the Troubadour a million times and talking all about the 80’s and his glory days. Because of course that’s what he talked about when my feet ached in the heels and I was dying of thirst.

Ben kept eye contact with Nikki as he stepped toward the bar, grabbing a water and a barstool, pulling them back and handing me a drink as he nodded, keeping conversation with Nikki still. He held out a hand as he steadied the stool with his leg and helped me up on it, eyes still on Nikki as he listened to the story he was being told.

“Thank you.” I said softly, sipping my water as I finally rested my feet. I was exhausted, emotionally drained and wanted to scream.

“Did you already eat? I was headed back to my place soon and-“

“We ate already.” Nikki was short with him as Ben nodded his head, shaking Nikki’s hand and smiling at him. He knew that the time between them was done and anything extra would let him know to much.

Was there too much?

“Thanks for coming to the show.” Ben was so short with him and then he turned to me, eyes sparkling as I felt myself want to shake my head. But he was smart, “Goodnight, Sasha.” I only could wave a few fingers as he walked away.

What. The. Fuck.

“Everyone follows you, Peach. It was strange hearing him use your name.” Nikki was oblivious to the puddle I was in and I was thankful for that small miracle. Finally willing myself to stand up, grabbing Nikki’s arm.

“I’m exhausted, Nik. And I have an early shoot time.” He nodded, at least understanding that I had to work.

I wasn’t going to talk to Ben again. I needed to stop this because seeing him in person made my crush that much worse. But as I laid in bed listening to Nikki snore beside me I felt myself reaching for my phone, wishing to see a message from Ben, disappointed when I didn’t.

And that disappointment scared me.

Ben POV

The show had left me on a high where I couldn’t sleep. Even after staying until the venue had kicked us all out I had managed to push through and stay up until the twilight hours. Maybe I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about Sasha, wishing she would text me first so I didn’t come off as too pushy.

She had looked…phh..

Exquisite.

I couldn’t stop thinking of her. The sheer black gloves, that silk dress hugging her body. All black like a midnight sky and she was the moon, lighting up the room. I had caught sight of her when I was singing, eyes meeting hers as I sang 11:11 for the person it was written for, watching her painted red mouth gasp and oh what a dream come true it had been, until I realized the nightmare that was beside her.

She had told me about him, careful words but when we video chatted her eyes would drift to the side, sad and sullen before she wanted to change the subject. There was something about him that gave off dirty old man vibes and I wondered why she was with him.But she loved him and I think part of her knew she always would. Sasha was growing, learning and I hoped she would soon realize that you can hold onto a love story even after it ends.

We were friends but today, touching her and breathing her in. The way we looked at each other made it very, very clear what a terrible ruse this friendship was. This was a friendship where we pined for each other but I wouldn’t push her. No, if I pushed she would pull away.

‘You’re amazing. I don’t tell you that enough. You amazing, talented, handsome man. XXOO SJ’

Smiling at my phone like a fool. I wondered if she was in bed with him and my mood darkened as I put my phone down, turned away as i undid the button on my shirt and poured myself a drink. Looking out at LA I thought about the girl I knew I was going to fall in love with, very aware that she wasn’t ready for it.

I closed my eyes, head tilting back as I pinched the bridge of my nose and thought about what I was going to do. I didn’t want to be just her friend but if that was all I could get would it be torture or could I make it enough? Was I not understanding her side of the situation as much?

I couldn’t quit her cold turkey and knowing how unhappy she was, how could I let her sit there, waiting for me to respond and get nothing back. I had to put my feelings aside and think of her. Someone had to think of her.

‘You’re exquisite. Getting to sing to you in a crowd of people, it was my dream come true. Sleep well, darling XX BB’

I hope as she read that she knew that she was my dream and that I was never going to stop chasing her.

It was a new day, the sunlight was rising over LA as I pulled my phone from my pocket holding it up to my mouth to leave her a voice message.

‘The fact of the day, darling, is you’re the most ravishing girl I have ever seen. So blinded by your glow that I can’t close my eyes without seeing twinkling stars in your smile. I hope you’re sleeping, Sasha. I hope you only have swirls of good dreams dancing through your head. And if you wake up to this, Good morning and what a wonderful day I wish for you’

#nikki sixx #motley crue #mötley crüe #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fan fic #nikki sixx fan fiction #Ben Barnes fan fic #Ben Barnes fanfic #ben barnes fanfiction #peach #Ben Barnes imagine #ben babes fan fic #Nikki SIxx imagine #peach and nikki sixx #daddy sixx

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mynameis-noe-body · 9 months

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Okay so — time for Stranger Things' Headcanon: dad Jim Hopper edition.

James "Jim" Hopper was born around 1941/42, follow me on this. He went to school with Joyce, same year, right? And we know they are around 40 in Season 1 — it's 1981/82.

Let's say he left for Vietnam right out of high school, he's barely 18, just a boy. But he spends five of the worst years of his life fighting in a foreign country, breathing shit and stuff. He's 22 when he comes back — 1964.

Joyce gets married the same year, to Lonnie. They are definitely not going to be happy, and Jim knows that. They have been friends, good friends years before. So, he's not really surprised to find about his old friend unhappy marriage. They spend and awful lot of time talking about that, but there's nothing she can do, come on — she's a young woman, just married and even though she fights her husband every day she still believes there's something that may be saved. That's when she gets pregnant with Jonathan — 1966.

Jim is 24, he just started into Hawkins Police and damn, the uniform dresses him good. Chicks look at him, and he likes that, he can't deny. At the same time, things for Joyce keep getting harder.

Things go slowly and difficult, and even boring sometimes. Nothing really ever happens in Hawkins. And people talk — better saving the appreance, right?

It's 1967 when, one summer night, Joyce is exhausted. Lonnie hasn't come back yet, and she knows she won't see him before Monday night, that's just how her weekends usually go. She's lonely, and tired, Jonathan is finally sleeping and she need a break. Jim calls to check on her, just to say hi or something. She invites him over. "God, I need a beer and a cig, Jim. You don't know how tired I am."

He comes later, six cold beers and a pack of cigarettes. (Maybe even some weed, for old time sake.)

They drink, and smoke. And laugh. And smoke, and drink. They don't know exactly how it happens, but it happens. They wake up still half naked on the couch next morning and they swear it was just one night, and they'll forget about it. He leaves, and life goes on.

Lonnie comes back home, Jim meets his wife some time later. And when he gets married, they live on the other side of Hawkins for some time, before New York. It's not a big city, and somehow the two of them just slowly becomes... strangers. Up to the point she doesn't even know...

And surely he cannot imagine Joyce's pregnant.

She keeps telling herself the baby's Lonnie's. It cannot be another way around. In 1968, she has a girl.

Jim is 38 when he comes back to Hawkins — it's 1980. He hates to watch the happy family; he knows Joyce isn't happy at all, but that girl. Sarah would have been 9 and Joyce's girl is just a little older, a 12 years old spitfire. Funny little thing, she is. And she hates her father to the guts. Everytime she can, she leaves the house, running into the woods. Her older brother tries to keep her but it's just — she's wild. A little rebel.

When Jim finds her the first time, running all alone in the street, crying an ocean, he immediately recognizes her. Jim takes her to the Benny's Burger, gets her a hot dog and fries, and a coke. She keeps talking, and talking, and talking — about her family, school and all the things no one in her family seem to care about ("Lonnie's fighting with Johnny, and mom's fighting with Lonnie and no one ever see me. This is good, can you buy me more sometime?")

He feel in love that night. He didn't get to be a father to Sarah... but she desperately needs one. So he talks to Joyce and keeps telling her it's alright. "Listen, that's a mess, I can see that. But I'm glad to help. If your daughter needs a safe place... just, you know where to find me."

And she does find him. The girl spends half of her nights at Jim's, mostly when her father comes home drunk enough to take it out on her, too. Jonathan is tough — he really doesn't want to deal with an old Chief, nor to be saved from his own father. But she's just a child.

Jim buys a VHS player. And a second toothbrush. She is small enough to take the couch. He can't cook to save his life, but finds out he's willing to learn — she can't eat pizza every fucking night, for god's sake. He helps her with math homework. Teachers are used to him coming to pick her up at school.

She calls him dad at school, speaking to her classmates. They know her as the Chief's daughter. Joyce doesn't mind explaing, she's done with keeping the appearance. "Jim is my dearest friend" she says, buying grocieres at the store, her youngest running around the shop, showing her the last pack of coloring pencils he wants for his next birthday. "He's always been there for my girl, and she just loves him like a daughter would."

He calls her peach. She's fine with it. And she should be at that age where kids get embarrassed by their own parents, but she jump out of his Hawkins Police pick-up with such pride before entering school — he couldn't be happier about that.

He lectures her about that danger of drugs, and alcohol and boys at the beginning of her first high school year. Now she's embarrassed. "I'd rather talk with mom about that, if you don't mind..." he nods, silently. "But thanks anyway, I love you too, dad."

It's the first time she said that. Jim doesn't get any sleep that night. He hadn't realize just how much he cared about her — it wasn't a matter of blood anymore, she was his daughter. Not Sarah, not a sort of surrogate for his own loss — his kid. She was her own person and he loved her.

He teaches her to drive. But she definetly improves with Jonathan, he can't be really patient about it.

She loves her brothers, really — they are just different. Like, there is something, somewhere... she can't wrap her head around it, but it's there. They are family just not the same family, perhaps. There is Joyce in her eyes, and in her smiles, but nothing of Lonnie. Even though she can see his nose on Jonathan's face, and his lips on Will's. The way he used to walk, bouncing around just like Johnny does. And the way he used to hums rock music, sometimes — just like Will's habits. She does not. None of this. She's quiet, and loves old movies, and checkered shirts, and coffee. No coffee in the Byers house, but tons of it in Jim's trailer.

And it all comes around when she gets a fever. Appendicites. Joyce and Jonathan rushes her to the hospital, they call him from the public phone. "Peach's getting operated right now — please, can you come?"

He's never left the Police station faster. And the doctors say they need blood — "Type 0 is rare. We don't have any bags available at the moment, but she needs a transfusion to recover as quickly as possible" the doctor explains.

Thank god Jim's there because the next day, when she opens her eyes, she asks about him too. He's slept in the hospital room, Joyce says, in case she woke up. But then, the doctor delivers the complete blood tests. They made sure about blood type compatibility and everything else, even though it was predictable — after all, she is his daughter.

And that's where all the knots come home to roost. Jim turns pale. He and Joyce exchange an eloquent look. He swallows. "My daughter — sure, but you mean that I... that we..."

Everything goes back to that 1967 summer night, to those beers, a joint shared on the sofa. Life couldn't get any stranger, right?

#chief jim hopper #hopper!reader #Dad Jim Hopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #jonathan byers #will byres #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #Jim hopper headcanons #Joyce Byers headcanons #jopper #jim hopper headcanons #Jopper headcanons #joyce byers headcanons

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

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Opposite Ends

Chapter Five - Brown Eyes & Too Much Weed

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Six is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending, fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 6.2 K Word Count.

Chapter warnings | Mention of Drug use, mention of masturbation.

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | As always, if you read the entire chapter then thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! I was wrong when I said the last chapter was the favourite, this is definitely sitting at number one right now. Those of you that are looking forward to the saucier chapters, stay tuned for chapter six, I have a treat for you. Love you Sunflowers 🌻 P. x

Y/N | October 1985

The terror filled scream frozen on my lips, ripped me from the depths of sleep. I clutched the damp tangled sheets around me as I gasped for air, my racing heartbeat pounding in my ears. I squinted across the dark room to the alarm clock on my dresser, the luminous face read ‘04.58’. Sinking back down onto the mattress, I pulled a sweaty strand of hair from my mouth as my breathing slowed to its normal pace. I had the opening weekend shift at Family video this morning. It was one of the few shifts that Steve, Robin and I were all working, given that it was a Saturday and our busiest hours. Over the past few months, working the weekend had become one of my favourite pastimes, keeping track with Robin over how many girls Steve struck out with, fighting over who got to pick the morning movie and challenging each other to stacking competitions. Steve would be here soon after daybreak, in his deep maroon BMW to pick me up. We carpooled together since Robin couldn’t drive.

Giving up on sleep entirely, knowing that it eluded me and there was no point in staring at my grey peeling ceiling for the next three hours, I rolled out of bed, the cold morning air hitting my exposed thighs and sending goosebumps up my whole figure. The thick carpet muted my footsteps as I made my way to my closet, pulling a dressing gown off the hanger. It was one of the only items of clothing that wasn’t currently decorating my floor. The house was dead silent except for Dustin’s soft snores echoing down the hallway. I peeked out my open door to watch his relaxed frame sprawled across his duvet, half sliding off of the bed. His Walkie Talkie was laying askew on the floor, next to his open twitching hand, like he had fallen asleep with it still clutched in his grasp. I tip toed quietly into his room to pick it up gently and place it upright on his desk, sliding down the antenna. Knowing that if the crackly voices of his friends shrieked though it, it would scare the living day lights out of him and cause him to topple right out of bed, waking up the whole neighbourhood with his profanities. I gently brushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes as his hot breath hit my hand, he looked so incredibly young in sleep, much like the baby-faced 11-year-old that would follow me and Nancy around as we laughed and ran away. My heart clenched painfully as I reflected on how complicated life was now, I had thought Dad leaving was the biggest curveball life would throw at us. God was I wrong.

Dustin had come to apologise to me after showing Eddie to the front door, by the time his incessant knocking had annoyed me enough to let him in, I was too buzzed to even care about the ordeal. He scrutinized me up and down concerningly, confused how I had gone from bat shit crazy to super mellowed out so fast as I spread across my floor. The fresh rain hammering against the half-opened window, washing away any lingering smell the weed had left in the air.

In the blatant rawness of the cold morning air, guilt washed over me as I remembered my behaviour last night. What had happened with Jason wasn’t Dustin’s fault, nor was it even Eddies. As unnatural as it felt to feel bad over my reaction to his presence in my room, the moment where we had been standing toe-to-toe, practically breathing in each other, hadn’t stopped replaying over in my head since I had shoved him through my bedroom door. He had even made a guest appearance in my dream last night, sitting on the end of my bed just watching me with those dark soulful eyes of his, making me feel very vulnerable as I burrowed beneath the flimsy sheets of my bed in just my underwear. Before my suffocating nightmare dragged me beneath its devastating depths, disallowing me to resurface for hours.

I silently left Dustin’s room, pulling his door behind me to submerge him in darkness, one of us deserved a sleep in at least. My feet slapped against the cold tiled floor of our one shared bathroom as I headed to splash my face, hopefully washing the remaining traces of my nightmare away with it. Remembering last night at the gas station, it took me a beat longer than necessary to look in the mirror. I sighed with relief as my own red ringed eyes stared back sadly at me, no black lines lurking anywhere on my face. I twisted the cold tap on, damping a washcloth to hold to my eyes in the pathetic hopes of diminishing the puffiness there.

Waves of nausea crippled my body and I curled over, grabbing the sides of the basin. I watched the whiteness of my knuckles increase as I tried to ride out the tell-tale signs of withdrawals. I knew it was only a matter of time before my debt caught up with me. Smoking left over old, stale joints wasn’t going to give me the relief I craved. I retched, like my body was sending me a message to give it what I owed. Flipping my head under the running tap to wash the sour taste from my mouth, I made my way back to my room.

Dread filled through me I walked over to my open window, in my groggy state last night I had forgotten to close it. Rain that had long since moved on leaving the sky a nice cloudless dark blue as dawn started to break, had soaked my entire side table. Great puddles of water had waterlogged the stained wood, sending my belongings off the side of the tabletop and -with a deep groan of realisation– filled my ashtray, soaking the left-over cigarette buts and joints.

Without pausing to second guess my decision, I picked it up and shook it outside, littering the ground below my windowsill and sending up a great cloud of ash. Covering my mouth with my hand I wretched the window shut, pulling open the top draw to hide the ashtray away. I stopped in my tracks; my hand still clutched to the handle. There, sitting above the mounting pile of empty bags, was a quarter bag full of glistening green bud. Slowly, I pulled it out of the draw, turning it over slightly to analyse it from every angle. The image of Eddie standing in this exact spot last night flashed in front of my eyes.

There’s no way. I objected to myself, considering all options as I opened the bag to sniff inside. It didn’t smell tampered with, only the stench of pure overpowering weed. I placed it back carefully, still convinced that this surely had to be a joke. I knew I hadn’t brought it because I only picked up in 50’s, I also hadn’t had the chance to talk to Steve yet. The only explanation was that Eddie had left it here, it wasn’t in his nature – hell, any drug dealers’ nature – to be kind. Which is what the gesture appeared to be, saving me the embarrassment of slinking to Eddie for help anytime soon, definitely hurting my pride in the process. With a bag this size I would be set for weeks. I let it fall through my fingertips and slammed the draw shut to remove the temptation out of my sight. I ran back to the bathroom, turning the shower’s hot tap on full blast, letting the steam saturate the room and drown the enticing smell out of my nose. There were strings attached to this gift, there had to be if Eddie was involved. I wanted no part of it - of him. I planned on throwing the bag straight at his smug face – along with a few carefully chosen colourful words - the next time I was alone with him.

I might have had an easier time convincing myself, if the thought of being alone in his intimidating presence didn’t send unfamiliar stabs of wanting through my core. I plunged my face under the boiling water to suffocate the unwelcome, intrusive thoughts.

Eddie | October 1985

Saturday started off like every other, my uncle was asleep soundly in his room, still dressed in his uniform from his shift last night. He seemed to have just fallen straight headfirst into bed on top of the covers and stayed there, turning his face to the side slightly so he didn’t choke. I strummed my sweet-sounding guitar, sending a low murmur throughout my room. I was half raised against the bed head, a cigarette dropping from the corner of my mouth as I hummed along with the tune. The sun was well and truly hung in the sky now, its unrelenting heat baring down through the window, burning patterns across my chest. I leaned across the jumble of sheets to put out my smoke, switching it for a freshly rolled joint, and pushed open the window, letting a cool breeze spill across my face and rifle the Tomb of Horrors posters pinned above my head . Strands of my knotted hair were plastered to my sweaty skin as I placed my sweetheart back in her rightful place on the wall behind my bed, stroking her lightly to hear one more seductive sound purr from her strings.

As I brought the nearly empty lighter to my lips my thoughts wandered to y/n, wondering if she had found the gift I’d left in her nightstand yet. Like I was a metal version of Santa clause, I laughed to myself. Knowing her, she had probably thought it was a cruel joke I was playing, since there was not a single nice thing I’d ever done for her before. Our relationship with each other consisted of loud frustrated sighs, violent thoughts and mutual detestation. Not conscientious actions towards each other. I still wasn’t sure why I had done it. It was a pretty sizeable chunk of change I had left in her possession. But before I knew it, as I stood in her room surrounded by pieces of herself, I had my hands in my pants at the thought of y/n, quicker than I could blink. Laughing outwardly as I made my way to the bathroom, I shook my head, dislodging some of my stuck curls.

Not like that. I corrected myself, although admittedly she had been the star of some of my wet dreams from time to time. That was all biological male stuff though, she was an extremely attractive girl, I couldn’t help which way my dick pointed. But then she’d open her mouth and my cock would become softer than her lips looked. When she had pressed her willowy frame against me last night, heat – warranted it was rage filled – was rolling off her with every breath she expelled, my dick had twitched as she brought her face closer to mine, the pressure struggling against the fabric of my jeans and for a wild moment, I had fantasised about crushing my lips against hers and acting out one of my many dreams. But, like how she ruined most things, her shrill voice had broken through my focus, causing rage to rise from my stomach to match hers.

I fumbled with my belt as I lined up with the toilet, unzipping my jeans to relieve myself. The sunlight drizzled through the coloured window paned glass, sending bizarre patterns across the linoleum floor. My head lolled to the side as I traced the outlines of objects that weren’t actually there in the pretty display of dancing lights. A blanket of peace settled over me as the weed kicked in, my thoughts drifting down the hall to the kitchen. I extinguished the joint in the ashtray balancing precariously on the bathroom vanity, just one of many that was scattered around our trailer. Stomping louder than I normally would have at this time of day, forgetting that my uncle was deep in slumber down the hall, I headed to the fridge. Trucker hats covered the walls of the living room, the collection had originally started off as a joke I made during one of the work trips with my Uncle Wayne. During school holidays I had no other family to watch after me so I would tag along, sleeping in the bed of his truck and soaking up the foreign views as we drove across country. I had passed comment on how many hats he had laying around in the bed of his truck. After that he would bring a new one back from every state he would visit for his job. When he started at the factory, we decided to hang them up as a sort of memorial to good times passed by.

Expired sauce bottles rattled in the side door as I wrenched the refrigerator open, goosebumps prickled on my skin as I stood in front of the door, spread wide for far too long, not processing what I was seeing. Apart from a jar of pickles that sat alone on the top shelf and mixed sauces squished on the side shelves, there was only a plate of something brown and mushy, I picked it up hesitantly and gave it an examination sniff. Not trusting myself while being high, I let it clatter back onto the bottom shelf, softly closing the fridge. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, it was around this time that I would normally be pulling into Gareth’s driveway, my guitar safely buckled into the passenger seat. We practised with the other members of Corroded Coffin every Saturday, except Gareth had some baby cousins christening that his mom was dragging him to, so this week’s rehearsal had been canned.

My eyes skimmed across the rickety bookshelf under our TV unit, hundreds of tapes sat there, most of them under a layer of years’ worth of dust. Movies were my babysitter growing up, whenever Uncle Wayne had to leave for some reason or another, he’d set me up with a mound of blankets on the contoured couch and turn a movie on, telling me he’d be back before it finished. He was never late.

I’d seen everything in our impressive collection at least twice. Well, I thought, No point in wasting a perfectly good day. I walked back to my bedroom, conscientiously aware to lighten my footsteps as I passed my uncle’s room. I could see dust particles swirling around my room as beams of sunlight shone through the window, it was stifling hot in here now. The thought of getting out of here was becoming more inviting the quicker my arm pits dampened, I grabbed a plain black tee instead of my usual hellfire shirt – not wanting to scare the villagers. Grinning to myself I swiped my vest hanging off my door handle, giving it a confirming shake to hear the rattle of my keys and headed to the van.

Outside the trailer I lit up another cigarette as the wire door snapped closed behind me, I puffed thick clouds of smoke into the humid air, covering my eyes against the glare of the bright sun as I adjusted to the sudden light. A dog across the way barked and whined as I watched Max Mayfield feed it scraps lovingly; her red hair was an intensive difference to her luminous -almost see through – pale skin, she stood out painfully against the dry grass. She must have sensed my eyes on her because she turned quickly to stare back at me, there were dark circles under her eyes like she had more trouble sleeping than I did. I half raised my hand in greeting, but she just scowled back disapprovingly, running back to her trailer across from mine, her oversized navy jumper flapping wildly. Everyone knew Max as the sister of one of the dead Hawkins Highs students.

A few weeks after her and her mom moved into the lot near ours, I noticed that Max seemed to be left alone a lot, apart from when y/n turned up at ungodly hours of the morning to drive her to school. I developed a distant habit of keeping an eye on Max, I knew what it was like to not have a lot of family and be alone more often than not. But it seemed after Y/n’s outburst in the cafeteria yesterday, Max’s opinion of me had dropped rapidly, not that I assumed it was ever glowing.

I flicked the butt of my smoke into neighbouring bushes and jumped from the porch, landing badly and staggering a bit before righting myself. I slid my vest over my t-shirt and swung up into the already unlocked van, switching the a/c on as soon as the engine spluttered to life. I blindly reversed out of our makeshift driveway, speeding off in the direction of the nearest video store, thinking that pizza and movies wasn’t a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon – hell, I might even really treat myself and plan some of the next Hellfire campaign later in the night as well. I beamed uncontrollably as I thought about Little Hendersons reaction to Vecna's return.

Y/N | October 1985

“And then Vicki laughed. And it wasn’t like a cheap, fake laugh either. It was like… It was a real, genuine laugh.” Robin chattered animatedly as she followed Steve around, practically stepping on the backs of his heels as he stacked returned movies back into their rightful place on the shelves.

“Of course.” He replied in a tone like something was obvious “It’s my Muppet joke. It’s hilarious.” I giggled childishly in my corner behind the counter at their banter. After Steve realised I was high out of my mind, he had grabbed my shoulders and steered me onto the stool behind the register. ‘If I found out who you got it off, I’m going to kill them.” Disappointment dripping from his tone, I had been slightly surprised he didn’t immediately assume I had acquired it from Eddie, but I guess since he was well aware of the disgust everyone assumed I held towards him, he thought I’d smoked with someone else.

Robin might have been dense in the best of situations, but after witnessing my exchange with the metal head in the cafeteria yesterday and my delusional state this morning, I was sure she had put two and two together. Thankfully she kept her big trap shut and didn’t clue Steve in, I didn’t need a classic momma Steve lecture about the dangers of smoking marijuana right now. Ironic since Steve had been the first to corrupt me. My willpower had crumbled as I got ready for work in front of my bedroom mirror, my side table reflecting in the corner of it, I swore it had an angelic light radiating it from it, beckoning me to come closer. I had never made it a habit to turn up to work stoned, but when the choice was between feeling a little buzzed or like I was going to throw my guts up every five minutes, I went with the former. I still had every intention of returning Eddies little ‘gift’ to him, since the bag was so big, I figured he wouldn’t notice a little nugget missing. I had, unfortunately overestimated myself and over-indulged quite a lot, in fact I had never been so high out of my mind.

I laughed loudly as I watched the little figurines dance across the tv screen mounted on a pillar in the middle of the store, noticing that one of the other two had already turned on our morning movie. Steve threw me a scornful look – with just a little bit of Platonical love residing in his eyes as well.

“My point is” Robin continued, ignoring me as I rocked back and forth softly, lost in my own world. “that Vicki laughed, and everything was just like… It was perfect.” Her words reflected a pleasant encounter, but her face was telling a different story.

“-But?” Steve questioned, probing Robin to further explain herself. He strolled into the next isle over, the stack of videos in his arms almost at his eye level. Robin handing him a new tape to replace each one he put away.

“But I’m having this problem, where it’s like I should stop talking, I have said everything I need to say. But then I get nervous, and the words keep spilling out, and it’s like my… my brain is moving faster than mouth… or … or rather my … my mouth is moving faster than my brain. And it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging, I’m trying to stop, but I can’t. And I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Robin swung back to face Steve as he finished placing the last of the tapes away.

“Yes, you are.” He retorted kindly, crossing his arms. Robin sucked in a big breath and leant against a poster for a new movie, mimicking his body language.

“That sounds dangerous.” I called out between mouthfuls of red liquorice I snagged from an open packet on the counter, they both turned to look at me with mouths slightly opened.

“What?” Robin laughed; I pointed another liquorice stick in their direction.

“Your brain moving faster than your mouth. That sounds dangerous.” I munched on another bite of the lolly slowly. “You should really get that checked out.” Robin grinned awkwardly at me and Steve thew his hand up in the air irritatingly. I nodded at Robin wisely and turned back to my movie, abstinently fiddling with Steve’s carefully stacked tapes near the register.

“What the hell are we supposed to do with her.” Steve placed his hands back on his hips. “I am not babying her today; I have a date with Linda so I’m clocking off early.”

“Well, you are the babysitter.” Robin mumbled, turning away from Steve so he couldn’t see her smile, heading to the back room. Steve followed her, putting up a futile argument and waving his arms about madly.

I was too engrossed in the motions of my hands as I straightened the videos on the countertop, that I missed the sound of the store doorbell twinkling, signalling the arrival of another customer. I also overlooked the familiar sweet cologne invading the store. I didn’t look up from the desk until cold rough hands, with silver rings on each finger, placed themselves over mine, forcing them to be still. I looked up to meet Eddies dark eyes, his eyes always sparkled with untold secrets. My untold secrets. He cocked his head to the side like he was waiting for an answer to an unspoken question. He didn’t look much different outside of school, except his wasn’t repping his usual Hellfire shirt. It was odd, his club merch had become as much a part of him as his thick brown curls. I watched as a hand reached up to lightly tug on a ringlet of his hair, not releasing it was my own, I giggled as the softness of it tickled my fingers tips.

The afternoon sun broke through the clouds for a moment, streaming in through the window and sending beams to shimmer off of his face, his normally black-ish eyes shone brilliantly, and I could see that they were a deep brown. Like golden pots of honey, the gold specks in them glistening spectacularly. The word tumbled from my lips before I had a chance to stop it.

“Pretty…” I murmured, his curl still wrapped around my finger, he jolted slightly, causing it to fall from my hand.

Eddie leant over the counter a little further, staring deeper into my depth. His stretched shirt moved a little as he bent towards me, exposing a chest tattoo I didn’t know he had. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his naked torso, watching a light trail of hair disappear beneath his pant line.

“Are you okay y/n?” He asked forcefully, I got the impression it wasn’t the first time he had tried asking me. His brown eyes searched my face, looking for what, I couldn’t tell. I burst out laughing, rocking back on the three-legged stool almost toppling over. Eddie reached out reflectively, impressively quick, to steady me. He dropped his hand instantly as soon as he righted me. I pursed my lips to stifle another laugh.

“S’all good Edward, just a little high.” His eyes flashed with something, too quick for me to make out what, at the use of his full name. It had slipped past my lips accidently. I pressed my hands to cover my face, meeting his gaze through my spread fingers as I awaited to be reprimanded over it.

“Clearly.” He groaned, sounding just as disappointed as Steve. I didn’t know why he’d care; he was my goddamn dealer for heavens sake. “Just go easy on that stuff I left you, it’s strong.” He looked over my shoulder at something, picking up one of Steve’s tapes, turning over in his hands and examining it too closely. He’s waiting for a thankyou I realised. Well then, he was in for a rude shock.

‘Uh, yeah about that –“ I began, ready to unleash my very carefully rehearsed speech but he cut me off.

“Don’t worry about it, flattery works with me, so first one’s a freebee, should last you a while – as long as you don’t go as hard as you did this morning. Let me know when you need a refill.” He flashed a cheeky smile at me. I scoffed and looked at him like he was insane, but he wouldn’t meet my stare as he placed the movie back. Raised voices wafted over to us, effectively cutting off any response from me.

“Oh, hi there, sorry for the wait. What can I help you wi-“ Steve stopped in his tracks, ogling Eddie up and down. “What are you doing here Munson?” Steve came to stand between us protectively.

“I’m here to rent a movie Harrington.” He gestured widely around him, pointing at the masses of shelves holding every single movie released in the last twenty years. “Obviously.”

Steve looked down at me, examining my face as I refused to meet his observant eyes, knowing there was guilt plastered over my face.

He swerved back to Eddie, solving the puzzle now that he was seeing us in the same room. “Did you do this to her?” He bellowed. God bless Steve, he had never won a fight, well except for that time with the one Russian soldier, but he was still willing to get his ass kicked defending my honour. Robin bumped into a wall of snacks, breaking the tension with a loud crinkle of chips as she somehow managed to step on a pack. Eddie looked back at me once more, appraising me with his attentive eyes, complete uninterest embellishing his face. He ran his tongue wetly over his lips as I peeked up through my eyelashes at him.

“Nah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spun on his heels and headed towards the door, slightly shouldering Steve. Steve grunted and stared daggers at his back. Eddie paused at the door and threw me a stunning grin, putting all his teeth on display.

“Oh, by the way, I’ll see you at Hellfire y/n.” He laughed and swaggered out the glass door, setting off the bell again. I clicked my tongue as I felt both Robins and Steve’s heavy glares fall on me, shrinking away from the intensity of them.

“What the hell was the about?” Steve asked me accusingly, spreading his hands on the countertop. Robin raised her eyebrows behind him, seconding his question.

I feigned innocence. “No idea.” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my green work vest. Neither of them believed me.

“Freak.” Steve muttered, turning away from me. At that moment the door chimed again, emitting a group of giggling seniors I recognised from school and the attention was effectively off of me for the remainder of the shift. Steve made a beeline for the girls and Robin came to stand by to admire from a distance, I laughed along with her as quizzical expressions surrounded Steve as he repeated his Muppet joke, failing exceptionally.

Eddie | November 1985

Weeks had passed since I had driven Dustin and the others home for the first time from Hellfire club, the freshman fit into Hellfire like there were already perfectly moulded spots for them, eagerly awaiting their arrival. Life continued on as it usually did, with a few variations. Y/n attended all Hellfire meetings, shaping into to her own rightful position. She drove her brother and his friends to the campaign, sometimes she would leave if we were running extremely late and she had a test to study for, trusting me to return them safely to her. She rarely participated in DnD itself, she would say that she just wasn’t as interested in it as the rest of us, but the truth was she was just terribly bad at it, although she’d never admit it. I would catch her placing her book down and siting straight up to watch with unwavering eyes during a particularly exciting moment. She’d gone through seven books since the first meeting – I’d counted. My heart had nearly dropped into my stomach when I saw the battered copy of The Lord of the rings clutched at her side, thinking it was mine. But I dogeared my books and – as perfect y/n did – she had neatly tagged hers with colour coded sticky notes.

I couldn’t comprehend how she concentrated on reading with the noises our campaigns created. I would half mount the table frequently, stomping as I dramatically acted out the images my words painted. I had long gotten over her presence and her judgmental looks, she would quite often look up from whichever book engrossed her, at the sound of my voice and observe me for a few minutes. She thought she was sneaky, but I always sensed her eyes on me, sometimes I would purposefully meet her gaze so I could see the satisfying blush creep at her neck at the indignation of being caught. She still didn’t trust leaving Dustin alone with me, but her company didn’t interrupt the campaigns.

Only my concertation, I was always painfully aware of her, no matter where she sat in the room, I had gone to the lengths of supporting a rubber band and snapping it against my wrist whenever I got too distracted by her. The others had questioned my new fashion statement, but I had brushed them off saying I was trying to kick smoking. ‘It’s bad for business to consume one’s own supply’ I would say, laughing to convince them it wasn’t something serious.

Gareth and Jeff had cornered me at lunch over the apparent obvious tension between y/n and I. I had told them to shut their trap and mind their businesses, but they hadn’t been wrong. We hadn’t spoken once about her catching me in her bedroom or running into her at her job. At first, we just hadn’t been alone together and had the chance to speak. But then as the weeks passed by we seemed to develop an unspoken agreement to act like nothing occurred. I had once had the chance to catch up with her during school hours, about a week after running into her at her job. Principal Higgins had spent a good twenty minutes belittlingly me after he caught me smoking behind the bleachers, so I was running late to my next class. Y/n was alone at her locker, in the hallway I was passing by, fumbling with the code. I had hesitated on the edge of approaching her, something very close to - the fear of rejection – twisted in my stomach. I wasn’t sure how different her reaction to me would be outside of the Hellfire meetings. By the time I’d made my mind up to take the risk anyway, she’d skipped off to her next class.

With our little Hellfire routine settling comfortably into place, the dynamic of our relationship had slightly shifted, almost intangibly. We were by no means best friends, but no longer enemies either. Instead of throwing me death stares in calculus, y/n would shift her position slightly, always out of Mr Mundy’s sight, to expose her test answers to me. I would shoot her a grateful smile and she’d return an uncertain one. My same thoughts reflecting on her face. How did we get here?

My glance flickered over to her now, she was lounging across some spare cafeteria chairs and had her legs crossed and brought up to her chest, a nearby candle sending flickering shadows across her relaxed face as her tongue sat between her lips and she focused on her book.

I snapped the rubber band against my wrist painfully, looking back at the engaged faces of Hellfire.

“It’s Vecnas cult.” Mike yelled; Dustin banged the table anxiously with his fists, next to him.

“Time out, time out.” Jeff called, making a ‘T’ symbol with his hands. I grinned, knowing where this was going. The boys gathered in a circle, crossing their arms over each other’s shoulders and burrowed their heads close together. I brushed a patch of dust that had settled on my end of the table and pulled my hair back from my face, waiting for the team to come to their decision. Dustin’s voice carried over the others as they each fought for control of the decision.

“How many hit points do you guys have left.” A sodden murmur was his response, Dustin’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Crouching in my chair, I caressed my neck, trying to smooth the emerging fire from within. At first, I thought I had just over done it and was losing my voice, but now I suspected a head cold was on it's way. Suddenly wanting to end the game at the standpoint, I croaked out loudly than any of them.

“There is no shame in running.” Dustin, Lucas and Mike’s eyes all flashed to meet mine, surely remembering the first time they’d heard me say that. Y/n snapped her book shut, sending up the dust that covered the ledge behind her, into a smothering cloud. She coughed and waved her hand to clear the air.

“Come on, we have to go home anyway Dustin. Surely you guys can finish later?” She asked pleadingly, her eyes falling to my face for permission. I waved my hand absentmindedly.

“We’ll continue this at another time.” Hellfire’s outrage at my words was quickly overpowered by y/n’s tone.

“I have an exam bright and early tomorrow, and so does Eddie.” Her attitude was unrelenting and left no room for arguments. She threw me a look that said you better have studied. I gave her a quick low bow as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

My suspected head cold turned out to be the full-blown flu, rendering me bed bound for almost two weeks in our stifling hot trailer. My uncle had hesitated at my door every night before he left for work, asking what he could do to help but not wanting to catch it as well. I had smiled appreciatively, ensuring him it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

“Us Munson’s are hard to kill.” I whispered, sweat gleaming on my bare chest. He grinned at my tangent and left me to ride it out, leaving me a glass of water on my bedside, that I gulped down eagerly when I woke up in the early hours of the next morning.

By the time I had made it back to school, I had missed both Mr Mundy’s exam and the next Hellfire meeting. My chains rattled against my pant pocket as I made my way to my locker, my jacket and vest swinging with me as I jostled my arms back and forth. I groaned as the familiar sea of green jersey jackets came thundering down the packed hallway towards me. I refused to part to the side of the walkway.

“Freak.” One of the jocks yelled as I pushed through them, shouldering in between them as strong arms pushed back. Another day in paradise. I thought charmingly. I had only decided to stop into my locker briefly to grab some pain relief for the headache that was taking its sweet ass time to disappear, before meeting the rest of the Hellfire club for lunch. I had already mentally prepared myself for the onslaught of requests for tonight’s meeting. They were like addicts, one missed week of Hellfire and they were already feening, practically tackling me when they saw me in homeroom this morning. You’d think I’d died and come back to life with how happy they were to see me. As much as I liked to complain, I had to admit it was nice to know my presence would be missed if I did vanish. My locker opened up with a loud clang, the door slamming back against the neighbouring one. My lunch plans were quickly derailed as a torn piece of paper fluttered to the ground at my feet. I bent down quickly to pick it up before anyone could take notice. In the neatest, loopiest handwriting I had ever seen, was a message quickly scribbled on the crumpled paper.

Meet me in the woods at lunch.

Chapter Six

➢Eddie Tag list }

@dotslabyrinth

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#eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie fluff #eddie x reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x you #opposite ends

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bohemian-nights · 1 year

Text

The Visitor

Word Count: ~5,827

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Nettles

Warnings ⚠️: Spoilers for Fire & Blood; Brief allusions to sex; Age gap relationship

Description: She thought it was the wind. Tried to convince herself it was the wind. It had to be. It was well past a decent hour. The Stranger’s hour. No one was up at this time. Lest not in the middle of a storm. Nettles herself should have long been off into the land of dreams, but her mind kept her awake. Her memories.

AN: This story takes place from 135 AC onward following the events of the Dance. I’ve also aged up Nettles a smidge and basically kept Daemon’s show age for reasons.

Part 2: An Impossible Truth, Part 3: Spring, Part 4: Birth, Chapter 5: Life

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135 AC-Mountains of the Moon

Guests whether we expect them or not always seem to turn up at the hour we least expect them to. Visiting us when we are fully occupied with some matter or engaged with our own thoughts. These guests have the capacity to turn our lives completely upside down, for good or bad, with one visit. One knock upon our door, their feet upon our steps, and everything is forever changed. Our destinies are rewritten.

Such was the case during the end of the six-year-long winter ending in 135 AC. One final storm to send it all home and make way for spring and pleasantness to come. A storm that transformed the life of a small brown girl residing within a small valley nestled betwixt the Mountains of the Moon.

Oddly enough it had not been a particularly brutal winter for Nettles. She had long since grown used to the harshness that the season could bring in. Sickness, starvation, and upheaval had touched much of the Seven Kingdoms lords, ladies, and small folk alike, but her own humble corner of the world remained just as so.

Time and the going ons of Westeros at large had less bearing on the occupants of the Mountains of the Moon. It was the domain of the mountain clans who kept at bay outside sources that sought to interfere in their affairs. They were ruled over by the House Arryn in name only.

The hill tribes were a fierce hearty fair handed people in accordance with their creed. They came and went as they pleased. Products of their inhospitable environment. Living crude short lives. They preferred their independence and adherence to the old ways instead of the Andals' pageantry disguised as honorable gallantry.

The lowlanders thought themselves civilized worthy men, and they the savages, but what is crueler, more brutal than a man willing to turn upon his own neighbor for a bit of coin? To trample over his bones for an iron chair or one made of driftwood? Better to be a savage than a mindless sycophant.

Nettles did not mind the way of things. She herself was partial to the relative solitude she found in the home she had carved out for herself and Sheepstealer. The young brown girl had long since become accustomed to occupying her time with mostly her own company.

The mountain clans did not bother much. They treated her little different than if she had been born among them. The children viewed Sheepstealer as if he were a giant dog. He himself seemed not to mind the young ones', particularly the boy's, fascinations. She had feared that their interest in her lay in the small brown dragon that she rode, but their admiration and respect were sincere.

The nearby smallfolk found their presence to be a reassurance once the initial shock had worn off. The hill tribes were less likely to raid their farms with a dragon and his rider that they greatly esteemed around. A steady stream of predictability, though Nettles’ mind on occasion did wander off into the past as one often is prone to when left in an idle state with little to entertain themselves apart from their own memories.

Driftmark was a world away from the Mountains of the Moon. Hull and Spicetown were beacons of wealth and prestige. Power. The might of House Velaryon and the late Lord Corlys Velaryon. An ancient proud Valyrian house. Home to treasures brought back from voyages to distant lands from distant corners of the known world. Their crowning jewels or rather were thought of as such.

Yet the old Sea Snake was gone. Laid to rest in his watery grave. The custom of his house. As was Spicetown. Lost to its flames. Hull, like herself, was the last one standing. A lone testament to the glory days of a bygone era. The ravages of time had not bypassed the port town.

Nettles supposed Hull had changed as she had. Ghosts of their former selves. Left to roam around this earth. The Dance shifted everything upon its head. Would she recognize her home if she were to go back to it? Had she ever really belonged? Memory can be faulty. There is always a tendency to think too fondly of the past in the face of an uncertain future.

Nettles had tried to slack her own curiosity a moon past. To see the streets of Hull for one last time. Taking to the skies with Sheepstealer. Nettles had got the timing wrong. The Vale was in upheaval. It was easy enough to forget how things were beyond her valley where no one bothered her and if tried so they would face the hill tribes first, who had taken a liking to her and her dragon, but the Seven Kingdoms was very much in disarray and not immune to the petty strife of men.

A storm had made her seek shelter in a damp cave before she could even reach the lowlanders. Sheepstealer had become frightened when a host of men, weary soldiers, sought to do the same. They recognized her in an instant. She had escaped, but it had been a bloody fiery mess.

Her failed attempt did not grind the wandering to a halt. She could try again. Go back. See how much the world outside of the mountains of the moon had altered. How much she had truly changed. If she belonged anywhere else, but her tiny pocket of earth.

Nettles knew that if she wanted it, she could make Driftmark her home once more. Lady Baela would be more than happy to see a familiar face as would her sister Lady Rhaena and Lord Alyn Velaryon. Whatever crimes she had been accused of by the half-year queen or any others, they would see that she was pardoned, but the older girl's heart was not in it.

She knew just how much she was no longer the small bastard girl running around the streets of Hull and Spicetown without another soul in the world to care for her or a place to call her own. Nettles might still feel like her at times, but one can not go back to things as they were. Once they were gone, they were gone for good.

At any rate, it would hurt too much to make a life for herself upon Driftmarks shores. She gained and lost so much in equal measure. Going back would only bring about old wounds. The scars of battle. While she might regain the company of once dear friends she would not see his face amongst them.

He had left a part of him within her. A parting gift. The reason why he was so quick to send her from him those years ago. He had been her everything and she was his. In all the chaos they had found each other. Their departure from one another had been the greatest sorrow Nettles had ever known, but it had to be done. For her protection. For theirs. It mattered not in the end. Even that the Gods saw fit to take away what remained of him from her.

A boy. A son. His face was as clear as one's reflection in a well. Ever etched into her memory. His father's face. Only a scant trace of her in his nose. Other than that he was all his fathers. He had his silver hair, his bright violet eyes. He was such a small thing. Her parting gift.

He had come too early, that was what Bess, who was the closest thing Nettles had to a friend, and her aunt, Shalla had told her. Shalla had delivered many babes. She knew the signs. Their eyes misted over with strained grimaces and soft words. Letting her down as best as they could. “He will not be long for this world lass. The Gods want him for their own.” She didn’t want to believe them, but his breath lessened as the sands drained.

A beautiful cherubic babe ripped from her before he could live. Before she could know him. Nettles had not known her own mother. She had desperately wanted to give him everything she had not. When it was over Shalla was one to pull him from her arms while Bess held her while she babbled on. Doing her best to lure her into a dreamless sleep.

They had buried him not far from her little cottage. Marking the little grave with some stones and wildflowers. She could not burn him. It did not feel right to. Nettles might be a dragon rider, one of the last, but she was not a Valyrian.

His father might have been, but her babe's blood ran thick with hers too. She had given birth to him and mothered him even if but an hour. Nettles would bury him in the earth. From which we all come. For that was what we all are ultimately.

The consciousness of stardust. Living out our fleeting existence upon this mortal plane. Ants toiling away on the forest floor until our time is up. Our stories and perhaps a deed or two are all that linger on. We can only hope that they are good ones when it is said and done. That is we might have had some pleasure in them.

The days passed by and by without much note since then. Everything had become grayed. Meshing without a care for time. The hours go by one after the other. Blurring together. Stretching on endlessly, but not aimlessly. Nettles had a purpose in her own way. She had never been more settled in her life. She had always bounced from one peril to the next. Never resting. There was beauty to be found in stillness.

It was not about the minutes, hours, or even days. It was what happened in them that meant something. What filled in the gray spaces was how she had grown to live her life. What Nettles had become accustomed to. Simply going through the motions.

Nettles had found company in others of course. She did not live in complete solitude. She had Bess and Shalla. She had Sheepstealer. Her little woods surrounding her cottage. Her garden. The hill tribes would always find some way to include her and Sheepstealer. Shalla, at her insistence, would often take her for her rounds in their valley. Being of service. Helping to bring life into the world kept her occupied.

No she was not alone. Not completely. Going through the days was not a melancholic affair. Dull, but not doleful. She had found plenty to entertain herself, but the company of a lover was another subject completely.

Some of the tribe men flattered her, but she did not take them too seriously. They were charmers, but there was a persistent boy. The son of a shepherd. A good-natured boy. Always seeking her out for her favor. Leaving a sheep or two from his father's flock for Sheepstealer on occasion. Mending her fence post even though she was more than capable of doing so herself. Jon. The matter of Jon who had asked for her hand with a shy smile upon his lips. She had turned him down thrice now.

“He’d want you to be happy dear.” Nettles never spoke about the nameless him. The man whose name was too precious to say, but Shalla knew. The older woman tutted in chastisement when she had sent the boy away time last, after the third attempt with his tail between his legs. “Jon is a good man. He cares for you Nettles. Don’t let yourself waste away in your memories. You’re far too young for that.” A mother's admonishment, but loathe as she to admit it did reign some truth.

Nettles knew that he would wish her to be looked after. He had let her go for it as much as it both pained them. To find joy and pleasure in whatever form it may come. In someone else, but she could not find it in Jon. Jon wasn’t her man and he never would be. He was a boy untouched by the world outside these mountains. Outside of this valley.

Kind in his own way. Gentle even. Jon sought her out for affection. For companionship, but she could not find any in him. He might be good to her. Patient. Care for her in a way she ought to be cared for, but her heart still beat for another. Mayhaps with time, but time does not heal all. He was not him. Her soul would always call out for him.

That silver-haired man. He crept into her very being. He’d given his life for her. Turned his back upon all he’d known. He had done so all for her. He’d do it a thousand times over without Nettles so much as having to utter a single word. She had been loved best by him. What more could she ask for than that?

Besides, she could never make Jon happy. Nettles was not right for him as much as he was for her. She had seen too much and was changed for it. Bore scars that would never fade. She wasn’t even sure if she could even give him her all. An unspoiled girl like Bess would do.

She’d made her own suggestions towards both. Pushed for each to see the other. To put her aside. To know it would be okay. He’d thank her for it in the end. When they had their litter trotting up and down the valley. Teaching their children their trades. How to live. How to be. Going about their lives. A perfectly ordinary life. He’d be happy for it. Life would go on and so it came in the form of a knock upon her door during the last winter storm.

She had not expected company. Her babe had been born on a night, not unlike this one. Her first winter storm of the Vale and now the last of the season. Both brought with it arrivals only this time with a stout knock instead of a quiet cry. The sound vibrated off the door into her little cottage. Echoing through the wind. Bouncing off the mountain's walls, carrying it throughout her valley. Waking Nettles from her half musings.

She thought it was the wind. Tried to convince herself it was the wind. It had to be. It was well past a decent hour. The Stranger’s hour. No one was up at this time. Lest not in the middle of a storm. Nettles herself should have long been off into the land of dreams, but her mind kept her awake. Her memories.

She did not expect any visitors. Jon had come by earlier. Along with Bess. The former assembled some useful contraption while the latter entertained her with a bit of gossip over tea. Perhaps they had forgotten something. A hammer? A bit of wood? A mug? They could not make it in a state like this. They were too smart to do so. One knock. Then two in rapid succession. Then three. It wasn’t the wind.

Sheepstealer. It had to be Sheepstealer. He rested in a nearby cave. He perhaps was checking on her. The bond between a dragon and its rider made them keen to each other’s moods. Perhaps he sensed her restlessness. Or mayhaps he was coming closer to seek her cottage's warmth, but that would put him out in the snow. He hated the cold. It might not be her little cottage, but his cave was warm enough and most importantly dry.

Sheepstealer did not think anything of it. Though not vicious, her dragon was more than weary of strangers. The he-dragon was an excellent judge of character. Whoever it was the dragon had not minded its presence in their valley. Why should she?

Another thought crossed her mind then. Lady Baela has sent soldiers to retrieve her. Not to arrest her, they were coming to take her back into decent society. The right society. To Driftmark. Away from the Mountains of the Moon. To be amongst her old friends. Whatever friends were left from the war and the winter fever. To give her every comfort she could imagine.

“My father would not want you here.” Lady Baela would say. She knew what she had meant to her father. That blessed man would not want her in such a cold inhospitable place. Living by her lonesome, keeping the company of brutes.

Small folk were one thing. Nettles was one of them as much as the rest. The Targaryen Lady’s had never made judgment on her for that. She was an orphan girl who could not help the circumstances into which she was born, but the hill tribes, and her friendship with them, was another. Those half-wild men. Fear of the unknown had gripped Lady Baela as of late. She and her family had experienced too much grief, they would not fall prey to another round.

How were these people to be trusted? What were their natures? Would they turn on Nettles if given the chance? If she upset them in accordance with their ways? They worshiped her now, but worship could turn into contempt all too soon. She would not leave her dear friend to them. She should be among those who would care for her without question. Without conditions.

The Lady of House Velaryon would not take no for an answer. Even if Nettles begged her to see that she was lost in time. She was content here. She had a life here. Hull had never held much for her and it would hold even less now.

It was not a smart idea anyway. She had Sheepstealer to think about. Lady Baela’s protection would only extend so far. She could not go back and live a half-life being reminded of everything or one where she would feel the constant presence of a knife on her neck. Another knock.

The wind shrieked, rattling her windows. It was not Lady Baela. She would not come so late and give her half a fright in doing so. Nor would they attempt to come in the middle of a storm. She was not foolhardy. The girl might have spirit, but she was not reckless. She would not risk her husband's men in the process of fetching her. No, only someone mad or desperate would dare to.

She couldn’t just sit in her chair bundled up by her fire doing nothing. At a standstill. Whoever it was, they were not likely to leave unless she were to tell them so. They were decidedly not a threat. They’d gotten past Sheepstealer and the hill tribes unscathed. They came in peace. Perhaps to seek shelter from the storm.

They did not mean her harm. She repeated it to herself. Sheepstealer would come thundering from his cave to her side in an instant if he sensed her hurt or distressed. Nettles let her fear go and let her curiosity overtake her as she rose from her chair and threw open her door. Bringing in wind, snow, and someone that haunted her memories.

“Netty.” Nettles stood as still as a tree trunk. Rooted in the spot. She couldn’t move if she tried. Her dusky eyes went wide. Mouth parting. A simple word spoken with his voice. His steady voice. A voice she’d recognize anywhere. That whispered and told her secrets which lit up the sky. Standing in his skin wearing his face. His violet warm eyes gazed down upon her. Crinkling around the corners when he would laugh.

A face that it would take a lifetime to forget and even then she did not think that it could fully fade from the edges of her mind. His actual person. He was at her doorstep. In the flesh. In the middle of the last winter storm.

The Rogue Prince. Daemon Targaryen. It was impossible. A ghost must be before her. He was a ghost. He was not made flesh, blood, and bone. The only explanation for it. He could not truly be standing before her with the hint of a smile upon his lips. Her man was standing before her and she could not deign herself to believe it. To give herself hope.

Nettles had at one point, early on, convinced herself that he had lived after the battle over the God's Eye. That he was coming for her. For her. Like in a song. Her very own song. The brown skinny bastard girl from Hull believing in songs. It was ridiculous. She knew that. Hope was a dangerous thing. It drove men mad. There was no point in false hope, but she hoped and prayed to the Gods. Gods who seldom answered her prayers, but it was something.

When Rhaenyra fell and her half-brother Aegon II shortly after it became clear enough Daemon had met his end along with the rest. He couldn’t have survived his fall off Caraxes. It was too great a height. The currents were too strong. She convinced herself of it. Willed herself to see the truth. She had to. Caraxes had pulled himself from the water but without his rider. The dragon himself had not survived long.

It had been a suicide mission. The man had gone to his grave. They had never found his body, but whatever had snatched him away from her had been in that lake. No man could survive it. Not even Daemon Targaryen. He could not be before her. It would take an act from the Gods.

“You’re not real.” She closed her eyes and began to back away, back into the warmth of her cottage. She had fallen asleep in her chair. Any moment now she’d awaken. “You’re not real.” He could not be here. She’d wake up alone to the sound of the wind and the crackling of her hearth's fire. “You’re not real.”

A pair of sturdy arms reached out to enwrap her. Cold, but sturdy. They hadn’t lost their mass in their years apart. “Please.” The sound of her door closing did little to calm her nerves. Nettles felt herself being pulled into a solid chest. “You can’t be here.” Her voice quivered, but it was muffled by the fabric of his cloak. He gently shushed her.

Placing a kiss into her dark coils. The young girl felt his hand running circles into her back. That was when the dam broke. “Oh Gods, I’ve finally gone mad.” A light chortle. His laugh. She had missed the sound, but as much as she had longed for it, she could not allow herself to get lost further in her recollections. ”You’re trying to torture me from beyond the grave.”

“You are not going mad, Netty.” He began to brush her hair. Planting another kiss on top of her mane. Trying to coax her to open her eyes. To make her see what was in front of her. She could not. Nettles felt a tear and then another traveling down her brown cheek. Daemon continued to soothe her fright without fail. Pulling her further into his chest. “None of that my sweet girl.” He went to rest his cheek upon her head. The weight was something she could anchor herself onto. “None of that.”

She dared to open her eyes. She couldn’t hold out any longer. Lifting her head from where it was buried to gaze up at him. He had more lines on his face than she remembered. His hair was a bit whiter. He had cut most of the length off. Time ages us all. It did not matter to her. Daemon would always be Daemon. Her Daemon. She’d like to think that she’d always be his Netty.

She was only twenty and five, but Nettles was a mere mortal the same as he. She was small, but not as before. She had gained her womanly weight. Regular hearty meals had seen to it. She was not as young as she once was. Would he like that?

The way he looked at her, Nettles supposed she shouldn’t worry. His violet eyes softened considerably when they met. He had not taken them off her visage since he had arrived. The corners crinkled with mirth. The way she liked best. “Am I a figment of your imagination Netty?” She shook her head. Her voice would fail her. “You are a hard woman to find. Do you know that?” It was her turn to let out a laugh. A belly ache of a laugh. She had not had one of those in a long while.

“You're wet.” The snow upon his coat was beginning to melt from her hearth's blazing fire. It kept her cozy, but it would be hell upon Daemon’s clothes that were half frozen from the chill. He’d be freezing himself if they didn’t get him out of his clothes and into something dry.

“A little nymph wouldn’t let me in when I called upon her.” A teasing smirk, but not a cruel one. Never cruel. She could only fuss over him. Pulling away fully from his embrace to rummage through her cupboards. Jon had left some of his work clothes once in a while when he came to mend things around her cottage. Ever the forgetful man.

Nettles handed a pair of pants and a wool shirt to Daemon without much thought. “She believed me a grumpkin come to snatch her up or a trick of her imagination.” He traced the scar on her nose with some affection before his smile dropped when he took hold of the clothes.

“They belong to a friend.” She blurted out when he raised a silver brow at her. Realizing her mistake all too late. Daemon inspected the pants in his hand as if they were made of spiders. A part of her wished to put him at ease. It was not how it looked. Yet, what could he expect? He had wanted her to move on. He had vanished from the face of the earth for five years. Five long years. A winter of her life, of their life together, gone.

“He’s a friend.” Nettles had begun to wring her hands in an attempt to compose herself. Not knowing where to look so she turned her head to face the fire. “Jon. A sheep herder's boy. He comes by sometimes to help around. He’s sweet, but—” She needn’t say more. He wasn’t Daemon Targaryen.

The former rogue prince simply hummed in reply. Moving towards her changing screen. Five years. Where had he been? What could he be doing for five years? The questions swarmed around in her head. “How did you find me?” She settled upon that one. She’d rather not rock the boat too much at the moment. Better to start out with one curiosity at a time.

“Ser Robert Rowen.” Her flirtation with the past. Her attempt at returning to things as it was. Half the seven kingdoms must have some idea of where she was now. “You’ve been rather busy as of late.” His teasing smile was back upon his pale brow when he emerged from behind the screen, but she could not return it.

So much time had passed. So many mysteries. Where were you all this time? She wanted to ask. Why had you left me for so long? Have you been searching for me? Did you even attempt to? So many answers to an ever-growing list of mysteries. One down. Again she fixed upon another.

“Do your children know where you are?” Why was he not on Driftmark or better yet Kings Landing? His son was king. His boy. A king, but a boy nonetheless. A boy of ten name days. Still very much in need of council. Of fatherly advice.

His eldest children were scarcely younger than herself. His second daughter, Lady Rhaena, was freshly widowed. The comfort of a father would do wonders for her. A gloomy thought overtook her. What if he had just come to satisfy his own curiosity? What if he had expected a silver-haired child to be waiting for him? He had left her with his babe in her belly. His seed. Was he disappointed in what he had found?

She brought her arms up to wrap around herself. Drawing in her own strength. She did not wish to trap him. She never had and she most certainly would not start now. If all he had wished was to inquire of her well-being he had done so. He had his answers. Daemon Targaryen was more than welcome to trek back from wherever he came from. Nettles had survived perfectly well without him. She could do so again. “Surely you must return to them.”

“And you to your sheep herders boy.” Jon. Of course, he would question her about the nature of their relationship or the lack of it. A friend meant many things to Daemon Targaryen. He had his share of many friends over the years. Perhaps Nettles should have left the subject, but there was no other way to explain why she had the clothes. He would have asked either way. “Is that what you would like? Do you wish to continue to have him warm your bed?”

Daemon had always been a possessive man. Not even the brink of death or only the Gods knew he had been, could change that. He did not mean it out of anger truly. It was simply his nature. She remembered the looks some of Lord Mooton’s men gave her when they had stayed at Maidenpool. Nettles had never been a great beauty, but she had attracted enough attention from menfolk.

She had not so much as looked at the men twice, but that did not stop his temper. The blood of a dragon. Nettles recalled how he would challenge the men who became too familiar with her. Nearly cutting down one lad during what was supposed to be a friendly sparring session.

She could not fault him for his jealousy. She herself was well acquainted with the emotion. During their time she had never had a proper claim to him. Yes, she had his heart, his soul even, which were both given freely, but not him.

Nettles would lie awake some nights. Eons ago. Coveting a title which did not belong to her. It had already been claimed by another. No matter how fraught their relationship was, it was a sin in the eyes of the seven. Yet she could not help it. Mayhaps the heart does not know sin or mayhaps it does. She had thought so when her head was called for. When she lost her babe. She had condemned herself to a life of half-seclusion in penitence.

He went to her. Tried to, but Nettles shied away from his reach falling back into her chair. A wall. She had to put up one. For both their sakes. Question and she would not allow things to be swept away. He had a tendency to do that. When they were at Maidenpool. Everything he had held back from her.

The brown girl supposed it was to protect them both. The most intimate he had been was within their bed chambers. When all was quiet around Lord Moonton’s castle. When they lay as naked as the day they had been put on this earth. Bathing the stress of the day off one another. When his member was inside of her. Sometimes when she pretended to sleep she would catch him whispering adorations muffling it into her hair with a kiss.

Daemon had only stated his feelings in truth when it had all been too late. Those six moons felt like a lifetime, but they had so little time together, but it did not take a lifetime to know someone she had found.

“Forgive me.” He looked embarrassed for his outburst. Nettles spotted a tick in his jaw from the corner of her eyes as he moved his gaze toward the fire. It was gone in the blink of an eye. Perhaps some of his blood had cooled. “I do not care what green boy has stuck his cock in you.” The Rogue Prince had ever the way with words. “That matters not now.”

“They know where I am.” Two. “Baela does at least.” Daemon sighed as he brought a rough hand up to his face to rub down. He was too weary to argue. She could see that. Nettles did not wish to exhaust him further, but she did wish for answers. She had to know. She needed to know if this was real. “I’ve lived out my myth. They do not have a need for me.” Three. Not as she needed him. Perhaps not as he needed her.

“I was not well.” He bent down to take her brown hand in his pale one. Playing with digits. Nerves. Daemon Targaryen was nervous. Nettles would’ve descended into jolly hysterics at the sight if the situation did not call for seriousness. “If I had been able to— if it was at all possible, I would have come to you.” He dropped her hand to take her head between his hands.

She did not flinch from him this time as he placed his forehead to hers. Drawing circles into the side of her face with the pads of his thumbs before pulling back slightly. “Nothing would have kept me from you.” Brown met violet irises. “Do you wish for me to go?” Four and a question for a question. He called her bluff. Her terms. It was up to her now. She would blink as he had. For what else was there to do, but allow themselves some happiness after a storm?

His eyes softened when she shook her head. Five. “No.” A whisper. If he had not pressed himself to her he would’ve been unable to hear her faint reply. He continued to stroke down her cheeks as he let out a breathless chuckle. A balm to his weary soul.

Despite their age, there was something innocent in his violet orbs. Childlike even. She wondered if her expression mirrored his own. Nettles let herself imagine it. To hope. To dream. For there was no harm if they shared that very same dream. A million images flashed through her mind. Reality is not so simple. So easy. It had never been so easy for her, but perhaps it could be. Perhaps it would be.

“I’m here for as long as you want me.” He placed a tender kiss on her hand. Bringing it up to his nape she wordlessly repeated his actions. Tracing the scars on the back of his neck. New and old alike. “As long as you have need of me Netty, I will stay my sweet girl.” She had need of him yet.

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