#//i knew they'd be sassy asses to each other

[meropidas]

|| Alright I have read everything there is under Wrio's leaks and story - I am broken . hug this man.

[ofallthingsnasty]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-KciIbk_oA&pp=ygUWcG9tZXJhbmlhbnMgdHVnIG9mIHdhcg%3D%3D

This is one of my new fav videos of two Pomeranian puppies playing tug of war and I just imagine basement wife having TWO purse dogs and they’re playing tug of war like that. She thinks it’s so cute and adorable until she realizes what they are trying to rip to shreds is one of Crocodile’s ties whoops 😬

(I love how the doggos in this video are literally just…potatoes with legs)

link to the video - oh goodness, that is so cute 😭💕

part one, two and three of basement wife and puppy, minors dni

Hold on, hold on - first we have to talk about the fact that he got you two puppies, not one? My, you must have been exceptionally good for him. Husband of the year award would probably go to Crocodile if it wasn't for the fact that you're with him against your will 😭

Two little dogs... How much they'd light up your drab life. Always playing with each other, chasing the other through the halls, vying for your attention. You could just watch them all day, even while they're napping. You'll probably try your best to put together toys/parkours with what you can get your hands on (but always careful not to damage anything, you put everything back into the proper place lest Crocodile catches you). Bracelets and heavy jewelry get re-purposed to drape them on your little poms, anything to tickle your brain and get a least a smile out of you. Whenever he's in particularly good humor, he leaves some treats around so you can train them (or at least try to, with how inconsistent it all is) - paw, spin, jump, and your favorite: kisses - they're pretty much all you have and you pour all of your love into them.

But you're not the only one getting bored - it's not like you can take them out for adventures, so your territory is also theirs. And a little dog explores that all too quickly, especially a sassy one like a pom. You'll find them going through cupboards you never knew they'd be able to reach, hiding under the sofa or sitting smack-dab in the middle of it, ruining the bed, fighting over your socks like they're made out of precious metals. It makes you a little sad to see them confined to the same hamster wheel that you are, but all you can do is let them have their fun and clean up after them. (Because when Crocodile catches on, he likes to punish both you and them by keeping you apart. The dogs, like you, are decoration, something to put a smile on his favorite possession's face, so they better not piss into some corner or tear apart the expensive cushions of his favorite chaise.)

So when you notice that the fabric they're fighting over is way too tight to be a sock - and worse yet, finely patterned in a way you recognize - you try to save the remnants, desperately telling your tiny pups to stop, stop, stop before their little teeth can tear the tie to shreds. But it's too late - it's already full of dog saliva and clearly chewed on at the edges, coupled with the distinct smell of animal, not your husband's favorite cologne.

He's not a man you want to hide this from (not to mention that you have no place to tuck it away, nothing truly belongs to you in this place), because he'll figure it out as soon as he'll search for that particular one some day. A punishment is inescapable - but would turn way worse if kept away from him. Disobedience and dishonesty are grave offenses to a man like Crocodile, offenses that might result in you losing your little companions if pushed too far. So you gasp and bear the bloody welts on your ass and the cock shoved down your throat out of frustration right afterwards - anything to make it up to him, anything to keep them.

[fictional-men-have-my-heart]

I just want to say thank you to those who have been following along or may have just joined, I didn't think when starting this or getting back into Tumblr I'd end up with a post with more than 20 notes, and now I've got multiple over 50 and one that topped 80. Little sappy blurb over, now:

Day 17: Can you imagine the zingers that would be flying around with these guys? All of the 141, Los Vaqueros, and König are sassy and sarcastic at times, so imagine getting stuck in a long haul mission with them.

• It starts out as cringe dad jokes. Mostly Price and Gaz coming in with stuff like

• "What side of the street did the kids wait for the bus on?"

°"Which side Captain?"

° "The right side. Otherwise, they'd get left."

• Groans would sound in the comms. You knew some of the team would be shaking their heads and laughing under their breath.

• As hours turned into days, the jokes would steadily become darker in nature.

• Your Lt was especially bad about these. Once, when Rudy was trying to light a small fire to warm up some food in camp, he used too much accelerant and lit his glove on fire.

• Ghost immediately piped up.

• "Give a man a match, and he'll be warm for a few hours. Set a man on fire, and he will be warm for the rest of his life."

° "Is now really the best time for that Ghost?" Gaz asked. You and Soap were cracking up, hiding your faces in your hands.

• Jokes were also used to check in with each other.

• "Hey, rookie, why should you not break people's hearts?" Soap had asked.

° "Enlighten me."

° "Cause they've only got one. Break their bones instead, they've got 206 of 'em."

° "Good one, Johnny." Ghost's voice rumbled in your ear.

• Alejandro and König were just overall sassy when in the field.

° "Get your ass out of the air rookie; you don't need another hole in it." Alejandro had said as he planted a boot on your lower back.

° "Look at you, so little like a mouse." König had chuckled when you were paired to spar when you both weren't on watch.

° "The bigger they are, the harder they fall buddy." You retorted, watching him closely.

° A well placed kick to his chest had him stumbling, but when you rushed him, he caught you effortlessly and pinned you to him.

° "Nice try, Kleiner." He had crowed. A sweep of one leg behind him had you two on the ground, and you straddled his back, pinning his arms behind him.

° "You ever heard the phrase "Dynamite comes in small packages?". Keep that in mind."

I just feel like with how much banter we saw in the campaign, we'd get a lot of the same in the crew on a mission. I'm always a fan of witty and fun shit-talking on your friends. We roast each other damn near constantly haha.

[lgcxmax]

Personal Development • The One That Got Away

his hands are clammy as he holds onto wook's carry-on, insisting to hold onto it while they make their way towards the terminal. he hates the strict security measurements, remembering days when he could accompany his family to the gate as they saw someone off. now he has to stare at the entrance of the security control and be reminded that there was no way back for them anymore.

max swallows, fighting to ask yet again if he shouldn't come with wook, if they shouldn't try long distance again even though he knows logically spoken they had settled this just a week ago. right after chuseok dinner, max drunk on the warmth of his family and his love, away from practice rooms and coaches for a short while. he'd been content until the conversation was brought up that wookjin didn't feel like his life was centered in korea any longer.

and max couldn't blame him. they'd both been born and raised in different cultures and the differences were frustrating at times, the feeling of looking the same but never quite fitting in. but he couldn't deny that it hurt, churned something uncomfortably in his chest that he'd have to rely on phone calls for god knows how long. and they both knew they couldn't do it.

life wasn't fair. max wanted to drop everything, see if he could reapply for a program in amerika and follow his boyfriend but the suggestion alone made the male mad to a point max worried he'd genuinely punch him. he'd come so far but why was he still here? why did everyone want him to hold on so tightly to something he wasn't even sure anymore he even deserved? would he be happy once he'd debut? would his confidence miraculously be re-established? would he be okay without wookjin?

his gaze rises to study the intricate design of the airport when the recollection of that night made him almost tear up again. he'd promised himself and wook: no more tears.

"well... this is it," he hears his best friend- first big love say. for a moment he doesn't respond, not wanting to respond in hopes it would make him stay a moment longer. a gentle but insistent tug on the carry-on bag in his tight knuckled grip eventually made him look back to what he thought was his other half. why was life so unfair? why did they have to separate? max swallowed again, lips parting but no word left his lips for wookjin shook his head with a small smile on his lips.

he always knew how to read max better than max did himself.

"come on dude. it's not like we'll never hear from each other again. I'll tell my grandma to find you and beat your ass if you dare to ghost me!" and the trainee can't help but laugh fondly at the image because he would. and granny jung would definitely run after him with a wooden spoon no matter if he was an idol then or a trainee still.

"this isn't goodbye," max mutters quietly, a smitten grin on his lips. "of course it's not," comes the sassy reply, a brow raised to almost challenge max into getting emotional on him again.

"I love you...," he can't help but tell him one more time as he finally lets go of the bag and lets go of a piece of his heart, smile a little wobbly as wook's hand lingers on his before holding firmly onto his travel bag. "you know I love you too." and that was precisely what made this so hard for them. both had to inhale a deep breath before exhaling it in a soft chuckle. max had always been the more emotional one of the two but seeing that wookjin was struggling as well made him feel the tiniest bit better in the saddest way.

"have a safe flight. text me when you arrive okay?"

"you'll be dead passed out then-"

"text me," max reaffirms, leaving it unspoken that he would stay up. probably wouldn't even be able to get a moment of shut eye this night and the following few. yet his best friend nods like he knows anyway. for one more minute he forces a smile onto his lips, raising his knuckles for a last handshake between them and struggles to let go as wookjin moves away and slowly but surely disappears into the crowd.

he waits until he can't see him anymore, until the line gets blurry as he sees wookjin faintly step through the security scanner and the gates close behind his back. he waits until he can feel a tear run down his cheek that he's quick to wipe away before he turns and drags his feet as he makes his way out of the airport. without allowing himself a glance back he drags his facemask up his chin to cover his nose before his hands disappear into his pockets. head hung low and shoulders hunched down with a defeated sigh he trots onward, hoping that whatever lies in his future will make him feel less heavy at last.

[ryanlockheart]

there was something innate about sydney's desire to pleasure maddox. just seeing him strut into the sigma chi house with enough confidence to power a small town had awoken something deep inside of sydney. he was quite simply the man of his dreams, and he wasn't going to let him get away. "perhaps, but i'm sure you knew i'd be a slut the second you saw me, didn't you?" sydney answered, cocking up a brow. he knew he was a little bit out of the ordinary for the typical frat bro. he was fiery, a bit sassy, but still submissive at the same time. maddox brought out all those sides of himself that he had to hide away, to suppress in a bid to fit in around the frat house. "i know you're gonna love it too, daddy. you're gonna be so proud of your little slut, taking all those cocks and cleaning all those sweaty feet. i just know it'll make you cum harder than you ever have before — and it's gonna land right on my face where it belongs. can't let 'em forget who i belong to," sydney went on, a lusty sparkle glinting in his emerald eyes. at his core, the older boy knew he wanted more than just sex-filled ragers... and sydney knew he'd get them from maddox. he'd have nights cuddled up against each other, romantic candle-lit dinners, afternoons spent just watching mindless tv nestled up against each other. of course, they'd have the raunchy nights filled with nothing but filth, but there was something more between them. "i don't care if you want to stuff me full of cock until i can't fuckin' take it anymore... i don't care who's touching me — as long as you say it's okay. i love bein' a slut, but i love bein' your slut most of all. might love taking cock like it's nothing, but no one can compare to what you're packin', daddy," sydney agreed with an eager nod. every thought he had about maddox was just confirmed the more they went on. he was the luckiest person in the world when that surefire freshman had came into his life. "no one else i'd want either. i was meant to be yours, daddy. meant to be your good girl and your filthy little whore. i can be whatever you need, mads... and that's why you picked me," sydney hummed. "that, and my fat ass. could put anyone, boy or girl, to shame." he giggled a little bit to himself. he knew he was bringing out something new in maddox. he didn't know his story completely, but sydney could tell this was something new for him, even if he was acting like a complete natural. sydney was in the same boat. "already know me so well, daddy. no one could ever treat me as good as you do. proud to be your slutty little princess," sydney cooed, his pale cheeks turning a light shade of pink. if everyone else in the room suddenly disappeared, sydney would be more than happy for maddox to have him all to himself. if maddox asked him to only touch him, sydney would've gladly. his world revolved around the younger male, and no one else. that they dabbled with other people was just an added bonus. "you're perfect, daddy. you're all i could ever ask for... and just know, when it's all said and done, i'm gonna take you out on a date, and you're gonna come back to my room... and i'm gonna be all yours — and trust me, i'm gonna wear you out."

"i can't waiting to get you goonin', daddy. my feet are gonna be your favorite thing. 'm gonna milk so many loads outta you with 'em... but just wait 'cause after you fuck my feet, i'm gonna be the biggest fuckin' whore you've ever seen, and i'm gonna hop on your cock and ride it 'til you can't cum anymore," sydney went on. "but that's not all. 'm gonna shove my sweaty sock in your mouth and let you huff on the other one. you're gonna be in gooner heaven, aren'tcha, daddy?" he smirked happily to himself. he loved the number he was doing on maddox. he knew that he could get anything he wanted with just a blink of his eyes or a small pout. maddox would never be able to say no to him. "i'm gonna take every last drop of piss, and 'm gonna clean every sweaty foot... but 'm gonna save the best for you, daddy. i won't let 'em wear me out 'cause i'm gonna wear you out when i'm done out here," sydney promised. they were both a mess for each other, but neither could quite help it. he was going to satisfy all of maddox's little friends, but the real showstopper would come out when he was nestled behind four walls with only maddox. he was going to save the best for maddox. he needed to impress him, and that was exactly what he was going to do. "maybe. if he's ugly, no... but if he looks like he could be a little fun for us, i'd pout my lips and bat my lashes and whisper in your ear," sydney went on. "you'd whip out that camera so fast. you'd probably get hard from just me begging... 'cause i know no matter what i say, you can't say no to me. if i asked you right now to get my feet in your face while your friends take a leak on me, you'd get down on your knees and sniff 'em... 'cause i might be your little princess, daddy, but i've got you wrapped around my finger too." the circle around him got tighter, and sydney could just take it all in. he breathed in all the musk radiated off of them, watching them silently as their hands stroked their cocks. pre-cum was smeared onto his face, but he didn't care. if anything, it just made him feel more powerful. even down lapping at the two freshman's feet, sydney felt like he was floating on cloud nine. even more so when maddox got all jealous. it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. his cock twitched as maddox got up from his spot on the couch. benji was long forgotten about, sydney's tongue hung out of his mouth as his gaze watched maddox. "n-no, daddy," sydney said softly. he looked up at the younger male through his lashes, pulling out his puppy dog eyes. "was just trying to show him a good time like you asked, daddy." he absolutely was feigning innocence; he knew exactly what he was up to. he laid back onto the coffee table, his long, lithe legs spread up in the air. "please, daddy. touch your baby girl. fuck me 'til i can't see straight... show these boys who owns this pussy. put me to good use, daddy. pretty please."

maddox might have been young, and a little naive, but something told him that he was right about sydney. the moment he laid eyes on the older boy, a flame was lit in the pit of his stomach. he was eager to get his hands all over sydney, but he played the waiting game. he set the trap, and thankfully sydney fell right into it. "you have a point, but i needed to see how bad you wanted it. i believe it would be frowned upon to walk right up to a senior and say, 'hey, i wanna turn you into a slut,' right?" maddox replied teasingly. he already knew that sydney wasn't like the mild-mannered, soft-spoken southern belles he was used to, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. if there was anyone who could keep up with sydney, anyone who could handle his brazen personality and unmatched sexual libido, it was going to be maddox. "i already know you're going to love it, angel... all those sweaty jocks with their big cocks hard just for you? those sweaty feet, fresh from the field, for you to worship? it'll be like christmas to you, and daddy is gonna enjoy every second of it. i can't wait to watch you be a good girl for the team," maddox agreed. things were moving at rapid speed, but maddox wouldn't have preferred it any other way. he'd waited years to express himself so freely, to rid himself of his father's expectations and any other restraints holding him back. as it turned out, all it took was a little attention from sydney. "you're such a little slut, and i fuckin' love it. you love cock so much, you're ready to take anyone's load as long as daddy gives you the okay. i'm gonna have your pretty little face shoved in my sweaty nuts while random guys line up in the restroom to pound that little pussy," maddox said, lips curled into a smirk. no one would get to touch sydney without his permission, but maddox was more than willing to share every now and then. as long as his princess was happy, then so was he. "i don't think i won the lottery, 'cause that implies luck. this shit was meant to be, and i think you know that, princess... no one else here could get you like this, ready to take every cock in the room just to prove that you're the sluttiest girl i could ask for," maddox replied. he never thought he would be capable of making someone like sydney so desperate and pliant, but he was learning more about himself than he ever thought possible. sydney was exposing a brand new side of maddox, and he was merely along for the ride. it was sydney greene's world, and maddox just felt lucky to be living in it. "that's why you're such a good girl, baby — and that's why 'm gonna keep you happy, give you all the thick cock and sweaty feet a slut like you could ask for," maddox promised, stroking the boy's cheek gently. he was so smitten with sydney that he almost didn't feel like himself, but it was exactly what he needed. "daddy's gonna give you everything you want, no matter what it is. if you wanna get pounded out by daddy's friends, the whole soccer team, or total strangers at some club, all you have to do is ask. but if you want me to take you upstairs, lock the door, and show you how special and perfect you are, i'm here for that too. i'm gonna be everything you need, sweetheart."

"fuck, princess... that's exactly what i want. i need those filthy, sweaty feet all over my face, working my cock 'til i'm gooning and my eyes are rolling back. i don't wanna be able to think about anything but your feet," maddox gushed, his cock twitching in his jeans. "daddy wants you to be everything you want to be tonight, princess. every filthy little thing that's crossed your mind, i want you to do it. no questions asked. if you wanna suck every cock in this fucking room, i'll let you. if you want me to pound you while the guys make you worship their feet or guzzle their piss, that's whats going to happen. but when i get you upstairs, it's gonna be just me and those pretty feet, alright? work up a sweat, and get ready to turn your daddy into a perverted fuckin' gooner. you've got a whole lot more ahead of you." maddox wasn't normally so talkative, but something about sydney had him chatting up a storm. he could hardly believe how many thoughts were racing through his head, or how easily he was able to express them. sydney made everything easier — and, of course, hotter. "and what is your definition of nice, princess? if a guy walks up and tells you how fat your ass is, or how pretty you looked drinking all that piss, what are you gonna do? tug on daddy's sleeve, give him the puppy eyes, and hope he says yes?" maddox asked teasingly. "you know i'll say yes, but it'd be cute to see you beg for it. i might even film it, too. show everyone that you're willing to take cock from randos as long as you got daddy's cock down your throat." just as he'd expected, sydney had the attention of every guy in the room. well, except for the select few who's eyes were fixed on maddox — not that he would even notice. "you hear that, boys? he wants your cocks, your piss, your filthy feet, your sweaty holes... are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna give him what he wants? he asked nicely, so either get in line, or get the fuck out," maddox instructed. the circle of freshman closed in, and sydney could no doubt feel them. he was surrounded by so many thick cocks and bulging muscles, maddox wouldn't have blamed him if he picked the biggest one and wrapped his lips around it. boys who's names maddox didn't even know were slapping their cocks against the pretty boy's face, smearing their pre-cum on his cheeks as they anxiously awaited their turn. maddox was distracted by the eager way sydney lapped up his own seed, mixed with a bit of sweat from his and benji's feet. that was, until sydney was paying a little more attention to benji's. "oh fuck, sydney... ace... i'm gonna..." benji huffed, busting his second load down ace's throat as his cheeks flushed bright red. benji wasn't the only one with a red face, however. "you were, 'til now," maddox said, pulling his foot away from the older boy. "should i leave, princess? let you have your fun with benji's feet, since mine weren't doin' it for you?" was he actually jealous? yes. was he also playing along with sydney's little game? absolutely. "i want you in the middle of the room, on your back, legs spread. now," maddox instructed, raising from his seat to walk around the coffee table. "if you want daddy's cock, and you want to keep having your fun with all these sweaty fuckin' freshman, you're gonna do as i say, aren't you? otherwise, i'll go back up to my room and lock the door. is that what you want?"

[aurumacadicus]

For the fanfic challenge how about Tony/Rhodey with "We could be Royals" as the title?

This gives me MIT outsider-pov vibes. I will not do it justice but I'm at peace with that.

We Could Be Royals

"Here they come," Natasha murmured into plastic cup, nudging Clint subtly.

Of course, Clint was about as subtle as a brick to the face himself, so he whipped around, already goggling. Natasha closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them again, peeking out of the corner of her eye at the door.

When she'd first been brought into their friend group, she'd gotten on the rundown on everyone. All of it was very basic, who everyone was and their major, small hobbies. Light stuff until trust was earned, Natasha had thought to herself.

And then Steve had turned toward her and said, "Oh, Tony and Jim aren't here, but you should probably know that they're basically campus royalty, are head-over-heels for each other, and don't know either of those things."

Natasha was mortified to this day that her response had been an inelegant, "Hah?" that spewed her smoothie all over him.

But it had been true. Even when they were being sassy, people seemed to love them. They were highly intelligent. Tony had already defended a dissertation and was working on a second one, and Jim was getting ready to defend his first, but they always seemed to make time if someone needed genuine help with their own projects. They weren't just focused on their academics though, either, because Natasha had heard that they'd taken apart the dean's car and put it on the roof of the science wing. The dean had even been a good sport about it, since they'd thrown in a few upgrades to the engine when they got it back down.

And they were totally, stupidly in love with each other. It was kind of sad to watch, their pining for the other. Natasha would have put them out of their misery, but it was like watching a car crash. She couldn't look away. They pointed pretty girls out to each other and then watched, secretly stricken, as they went to flirt. Luckily, they never actually pulled any dates, because everyone was aware they loved each other and at this point didn't want to be the person that came between them. Natasha had told Clint about it and he hadn't believed her, so she'd invited him up to show him in person.

"You're telling me that they grab each other's ass, and they still don't know they wanna bang," Clint said solemnly as he watched Tony and Jim circle the room together to greet everyone. "And people have just let this happen for years."

"I mean, to be fair, there was an age gap that was gross and illegal when they first met," Natasha pointed out.

"But now it's not and they're just sad at each other," Clint surmised. "Natasha, I'm already disgusted. I can't handle this."

"They don't really... notice subtlety," Natasha said slowly, because she'd watched all their other friends surreptitiously been try to get them to notice each other's feelings and it hadn't worked yet. She'd been trying to figure out how to make them realize it without as much subtlety, but all that came to mind was bashing their heads together, and even then, they'd probably go after her first in revenge before even realizing they'd kissed.

"Natasha, who's your friend?" Tony asked as they finally made it over to them. He wrinkled his nose as he took in Clint's black eyes, the cut on his lip, the cast around his left arm. "He looks--"

"Fit," Jim cut in sternly.

Tony scowled up at him. "I wasn't going to say anything bad. I was going to say... broken."

"You can't just call someone broken, Tony," Jim sighed, but he looked more fond than offended. "You said you weren't going to say anything bad and yet that was."

Luckily, Clint apparently knew what Tony meant, because he lifted his casted arm and very proudly declared, "I got in a fist fight rescuing a dog. His name is Lucky and he only has one eye."

"I love him," Tony told Clint seriously.

"As much as you love Jim?" Clint retorted.

"I don't love anything as much as I love Rhodey. I don't want to marry a dog, that's stupid," Tony answered, and then went white as a sheet.

"You what?" Jim asked.

Natasha grabbed Clint by the back of his shirt and dragged him away frantically, because of this was how they were going to express their feelings for each other, she absolutely did not want to fucking be there. "Did you do that on purpose?!" she hissed, dragging him around a corner.

"Yes? Natasha, that was fucking sad, I can't watch sad things and you know that," Clint scoffed.

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

The Frat house

Prompt: “isn’t is fascinating? you don't even have to open your mouth to make my head hurt.” 

Dean X reader ( Dean is 20, Reader and Sam are 16).

Warnings: Um, none? I don't think.

Dean Winchester was a royal pain in your ass. His smart mouth and sassy one liners made you want to punch his pretty face in. Most of the time, you could avoid him, ignore him and just hang out with Sam who was much more chill and cool. You were thankful you only ever had to see the oldest Winchester once in a while when his father didn't need him on a hunt. 

Sadly, tonight wasn't one of those nights. Your father and John had gone off on a hunt with some other hunters, it was going to be a day or two and sadly, Dean hadn't tagged along with them, John and your father insisted he stay behind and keep you and Sam out of trouble. Little did they realize most of the time, Dean ended up being bigger trouble than either of you two. 

You heard the light knock on your bedroom door, you'd opted to stay in your room for most of the night, hoping they'd think you were on your period and leave you alone. You felt bad not hanging out with Sam, but you really didn't want to be annoyed by Dean. That boy could give you a brutal migraine in less than 10 minutes. 

You got up from your bed, abandoning your latest journal entry before opening the door. There stood Dean, a half smirk on his pretty face dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. 

“Ugh, what do you want, Winchester?” you rolled your eyes, making your way back over to your bed.

“You should be nicer, y/n. Boys would like you better if you didn't have such a bad attitude.” He speaks, making you gag.

“Ah, yes, my mission in life, to please all the boys.” You mock him, rolling your eyes yet again before prying as to what the hell he wanted from you. 

“So? To what reason do I owe your presence?” you sass him and he smirks again. 

“Sammy and I are going to go have some fun, taking the kid to his first college party, you in?” He winks, your eyes wide as you squint at him. 

“Sam and I are 16, there's no way we can get in to a college party.” You shrug, shaking your head at his idiotic idea. He clicks his tongue and laughs.

“Who’s going to know? Sam will probably go unnoticed, and you can put on something skimpy, do your makeup and you pass for 18 tops, ain't no one going to question you.” He eyes you up and down and you punch his arm. 

“Owww, what the hell!” He shouts, rubbing his arm. “That’s for being a pervert, and no, I'm not going to whore myself out just to go to some college party with you, besides, our dads told us to stay put, I ain't about to break the rules, your dad will kill you if he finds out.” You raise an eyebrow, making your way over to your bed. 

“He won't if he doesn't know about it, we'll be back way before they will, and I never said whore yourself out, though, I'm sure a night of fooling around with some guy would adjust that stick up your ass. We're going, come, stay, I don't care but you got 15 minutes to decide or we're leaving.” He states, winking at you before shutting the door behind him. 

You hated Dean Winchester. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, you really heavily disliked him. He was a constant pain in your ass, a headache that seemed to never go away. However, you wondered if maybe he was right. You had only ever had sex with your ex, and that had ended last year, you could use a night out, and a hot college guy could possibly just be what you needed and just like Dean said, no one would know you weren't 18. 

You sighed, not believing the idiot outside had actually convinced you this was a good idea. Taking his advice, you got dressed in your “sexiest” dress, a simple black one that always enhanced your curves and paired it with your favorite red pumps, you put some effort into your makeup, a dark Smokey eye and a bold red lip, your winged liner perfected after years of practice. Dean was right, at this rate, no one would question your age. 

You met the boys by the front door, Dean throwing on his dad's old leather jacket that was twice his size as he headed over towards you, maybe one day he'd grow into the coat. 

Sam's cheeks turned a shade of red as he complimented your look. You smiled politely as you thanked him. Sam was always the more gentlemanly of the two. When Dean finally noticed you, he smirked, letting out a wolf whistle as he passed you towards the impala.

“You clean up nice y/n, if you weren't practically my little sister I'd take you home myself.” He chuckles, smacking your ass as he passes you. You let out a squeal and it makes him chuckle before you let out an annoyed groan. 

“You’re such a pig, as if I'd ever go to bed with you, who know's what you've contracted.” Once again rolling your eyes at him in distaste. “You roll your eyes a lot y/n, one day you're going to get stuck like that, also, I'm not stupid, I use condoms and always get tested.” Dean smirks, biting his lower lip before throwing himself into the drivers seat, unknowingly to him just how much he affects you. Maybe that's why you tried to hate him so bad, you refused to admit the older Winchester got to you, making you flushed most of the time you spent around him. 

“And you talk too much Winchester, I mean seriously, do you ever stop talking.” You sass, throwing him a fake smile. He winks in return, “Only when I'm using my mouth for other things.” He stares back at you from the rear view, making a motion with his hand and tongue to signify what he means. 

“Can you two stop, this whole conversation is becoming gross. Let's just go.” Sam pipes up, blushing more than he should. “Don't worry, Sammy. One day you'll learn, my little virgin brother.” Dean chuckles, ruffling Sam's hair. 

“I’m not a virgin, I just don't announce it to everyone so explicitly.” Sam grits, trying to avoid you hearing. “Yeah yeah, sure thing sammy.” Dean smirks and soon enough he's driving off. 

You'd been at this party for three hours and had yet to find a decent human to talk to. Sam had wandered off over an hour ago with a cute petite brunette who seemed very fond of him, you had a feeling she'd be dragged here too, and Dean, well, Dean was around flirting with every girl who would give him the time of day. His cheesy pick up lines failing most of the time, sometimes you wondered how in the hell Dean got as much action as he did, his lines were usually horrible. 

You took a sip of your beer, people watching as a bunch of jocks screamed and yelled, doing keg stands, a group of girls stood off to the sides, some of them eyeing the jocks and giggling to each other. 

“You look a little lonely.” A voice booms out over the music and you turn, coming face to face with a cute blonde haired guy, he's wearing a muscle shirt that's probably one size to big, a pair of Jean's that aren't baggy but not fitted either. He's got a beer in his hand and he's smiling softly at you.

“Just checking out the scene. This isn't a bad party.” You shrug, sipping from your red Solo cup. He chuckles. “Yeah, Rick always throws the best parties, everyone literally shows up. So how come your not with your friends? You go here right?” He asks making conversation, and your brain works overtime to come up with something. 

The conversation between you and what you now knew was the guy named Eric and that he was 18, had flowed nicely and before you knew it, you'd spent the last 20 minutes taking shots with him and now here you were, pressed up against the kitchen island as he kissed you, his lips soft and warm, he smelled like fireball but you didn't care, you just wanted to be kissed, having almost forgotten what it was like to make out with a cute guy. He pulls away, smiling at you, breathing heavily as he speaks. 

“I’ll be right back, gonna check if any rooms are clear.” He states before shooting you a wink, you pull some hair behind your ear and bite your bottom lip, smiling at him nervously, suddenly not sure you wanted to be here.

You turn around, ready to grab your solo cup and refresh yourself when you come face to face with Dean. He's on the other side of the island, leaning over on it with his elbows, drink in his hand and he's smirking at you, he raises and eyebrow and before he speaks, you groan. He shoots you a shrug.

“What? I didn't say anything.” He speaks up, smiling stupidly at you. 

“ Isn’t is fascinating? you don't even have to open your mouth to make my head hurt.” You spit out, already annoyed with him. He laughs. 

“You having fun?” he asks and he seems genuinely concerned. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Thanks, you were right I needed this.” You give him a soft smile before you start to bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. 

Dean watches you carefully, noticing the mood change. “You okay?” he asks and you pipe back up, letting go of your lip as you shake yourself back to reality, “Yeah, yeah i’m good it's just uh....he asked me to go upstairs, he's older and I uh- um, you know what, nevermind.” You shake you head, taking a giant sip out of your cup. 

“Y/n, if you're not comfortable, say no. Point blank, and if tries anything else, call me. I'll deal with it. You don't have to have sex if you don't want to, okay?” He assures you, and you take a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I know, thanks Dean.” He shoots you a small nod, and it's the first time you've seen him have your back, full support with no judgement or jokes or inappropriate remarks. 

“I know, uh, I know I can be a dick sometimes and I annoy the hell out of you, but I need you to know when it comes down to it, I got your back, y/n. Always.” He smiles, you give him a small smile back, moving around the island to get closer to him, you lean up using your tip toes to get closer to his height, placing a small peck on his cheek. 

“Thanks Dean, You're not always so bad.” You smirk, before leaving him to his night, making your way over to the dancefloor. 

Dean watches you for a bit, smiling as he watches you laugh when that frat boy joins you, it was nice to see you having a good time and letting loose. He would never admit it, it wasn't like him to be so attracted to someone he'd known all his life or feel for someone so much, but you had always been different. 

He kept his distance for the most part, he wasn't stupid, you were 16, and it wouldn't be in his best interest or smart to make a move, plus John would kill him, you were still underage, but maybe eventually, when you turned 18, maybe he'd consider doing something about the dreams that woke him up every night sweaty and heated. 

One day, you'd see he wasn't as annoying as you thought. For tonight, he'd have to settle for watching you from afar, knowing damn well he’d be going home alone yet again. 

[thatssonanii]

Just the Two of Us (15)

HAHN AU

Lainey worked half the day then let her stylists know she was leaving and her parents would be there sometime before closing to lock up. Figuring the ride to see Marcie was a good time, Lainey decided to tell them about her plans.

They'd taken Cam's Tahoe since Cam wanted to drive. Benny made sure both his brother's cars were taken care of and ready for them because he just honestly didn't want them driving his. Benny and Lainey say in the middle row and Zion in the passenger seat.

"Hey, can you turn that down for a second?" Lainey asked over the music.

Cam turned the music down, glancong at his sister in the rear view mirror. "I'm going the wrong way or something?"

"No, I just wanna talk."

Benny was silently praying that it wasn't another sex question. After the two hour talk he had with her, he didn't think he could take any more torture.

Zion turned in his seat to look at her. "Whats up?"

"Sooo I'm gonna be gone from Friday night till Monday night."

Benny let go a sigh of relief. "Where you goin?"

"Charles invited me to stay the weekend with him in Atlanta at his house. And I told him I would." She said with a smile.

"You might as well call him and tell him you can't go," Cam fussed. "Must be out ya mind if you think you going 6 hours away with some man we don't know."

Lainey huffed. "He's a freaking governor, he's not gonna do anything to ne and ruin his career."

"Why can't he come here like he been doing?" Benny asked rubbing his beard.

"Because he has stuff to do there. He wants to but he can't keep. So I'm gonna go."

Zion shook his head, "We appreciate the honesty this time around but Lainey, you sure about this? You don't know this cat."

"No, yall don't know him," She smiled, "I know him and I like him. Can yall please be supportive?"

Benny adjusted in his seat thinking everything over. He waved his sister to live her life but he wanted her to be careful. "Listen, you can go under one condition."

"What's that?"

"We take you down there and stay for a little while."

"I'll take it! But please don't threaten him and not longer than two hours."

Cam chuckled, "That's fine but an hour of that is just us and him."

Lainey knew not to argue, she would take what she would get.

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

Lainey jumped out as soon as Cam put it in park and crossed the street. She had to pee and they were taking too long. Jogging across the pretty much empty street, she got to Marcie's porch and rung the doorbell a few times. She bounced from foot to foot waiting on her friend.

"Hey, girl," Marcie laughed opening the door. "Whats wrong?"

Lainey invited herself in, "They wouldn't stop to let me pee. I gotta go, they coming."

With that, Lainey ran upstairs the bathroom and Marcie stood at the door waiting. She watched the brothers walk across the street and waved. They waved back politely.

"Damn," Cam cussed under his breath.

Benny shook his head laughing, "She married man."

Cam laughed, "So is Melissa."

Benny shrugged playfully, "You got me there."

Marcie let them into her house and to the livong room area. She walked over to the kitchen.

"Thank yall so much for coming here. I have water, juice, and tea. What would yall like? We're gonna be here for a little second."

"Water is fine, Marcie," Benny answered, "Did you get to meet my brothers at the party?"

Marcie shook her head getting the food together she made for them.

"No, I didn't. Melissa and Lainey hogged me to themselves most if the night. Lainey talks about yall a lot though so I feel like I have." She picked up the platter and walked it over sitting it down on the table in front of them. "I made some chicken, potatoes and broccoli for lunch since yall were coming."

Zion smiled, "You aint have to but we glad you did."

Marcie laughed, "You're welcome. You must be Zion and you must be Cameron. Its nice to actually meet you guys."

"Just Cam is fine, my mama is the only that calls me that and it's only when I'm in trouble."

Benny and Zion laughed under their breath as they fixed their plates. Their older brother was the biggest flirt between the three of them.

"Cam it is then. I'm gonna go grab the papers really quick."

Cam nodded watching her leave the room and whistled lowly. "The Lord is testing me and my patience."

Benny scoffed, "You wouldn't know what patience was if it fell in your lap."

Lainey beat Marcie back to the living room. She sat on the sofa across from them, eyeing them wearily. They laughed when they noticed her looking at them.

"I don't know what yall doin or was talkin about but nip it." She warned in a whisper.

Zion sucked his teeth. "We ain't did shit yet."

"Uhuh, yet. I know yall."

Marcie came back with the papers, as she crossed the room Lainey watched her brothers then realized it was mostly Cameron.

After four hours the papers were finally done. Lainey helped Marcie clean up their mess. They sat around talking for a little while until Randall walked in. He smiled politely as he spoke to each of them.

"Lainey, always nice to see you. You look nice." He said politely.

"Thanks, Randall. We were just leaving."

Randall stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Oh no, don't leave on my account. I'm just gonna get changed and go work on my boat."

Lainey hummed, "You're always working on that thing. Either you don't know what you're doing or its junk."

Randall have a stiff laugh. "I'm putting my father's boat back together actually. It got badly damaged during a storm."

Marcie bumped her friend's shoulder, "Its sentimental. He loves that thing. Go ahead, Randall."

Randall nodded and bowed out heading upstairs. The men didn't miss the way he looked back on his way upstairs but they didnt want to say anything without knowing.

"Well since Turbo is home, we're gonna go." Lainey huffed getting her purse.

Marcie laughed, "Hush before he hears you calling him that. But don't go, stay a little longer."

"I'd love to but I gotta get back home. We promised our nephew we'd spend time with him and I need to start packing."

"Ooh yeees, I almost forgot about your lil sleep away trip with your boo," Marcie grinned, "You excited?"

"She bet not be too damn excited," Cam fussed.

Marcie waved him off. "She can be excited. That's her man and she finally gets alone time with him away from you three. Uhuh, she told me about yall."

"I dont care what her lil sassy self said."

Marcie laughed and turned back to her friend, "Anyway, I hope you have fun and I got you something to take with you."

Lainey laughed at her brothers' expressions. "Go wait in the car, I'm coming."

"Nope, we wanna see what she got you." Cam said getting comfortable.

Marcie rolled hwr eyes playfully and got up then pulled her froend up from the sofa. Lainey grabbed her purse and followed her friend.

"You jist can't help yourself, can you," Zion asked laughing. "Fighting counts as flirting. And you know that."

Cam laughed, "Give me some credit at least I don't have her legs on my shoulder."

"Chill," Benny laughed, "She sat her ass on my desk, aight. Damn."

Randall came back downstairs in lounging clothes. He stared the three men down then went to the kitchen to grab water and went out the back door.

"Who the fuck was he staring at?" Zion asked sitting up. "Fuck is his problem?"

Benny shrugged adjusting his hat, "Must know competition when he sees it."

The women came back whispering with each other. They all said their goodbyes and Marcie walked them out to their car. She waved to her neighbors then rolled her eyes making Lainey laugh.

"Ooh that reminds me," Marcie huffed, "I gotta text Melissa."

"About what?" Lainey asked.

"Well she needs to get her mind off of a certain someone," Marcie said looking briefly at Benny, "And out of that apartment I'm gonna get her to come to this dinner party Friday."

"She better stop thinking about Benny."

Marcie laughed, "You know, I know and he knows that she thinks he's cute. But I need a friend at this stupid dinner party Alex is throwing. I don't wanna go but Randall's always so excited to go hang out with Brad."

"Mmhm," Lainey said hugging her, "Well yall have fun. Ima call yall later while I'm packing. And thank you again for this. I dunno if I'll use it but at least I'll have it."

"Trust me, you will." Marcie moved to hug her brothers, lingering in Cameron's arms before walking back across the street to her house.

Lainey smacked the back of his head snapping him from his thoughts. He flies ched hard and stared at her.

"And yall talking about me being a hot ass. You get your hot ass in the car and stop looking at my friend. You too Benny. I don't know what happened but it better not happen again."

[whatyourfathersays]

Senorita → Brad Simpson (Part One)

A/N: hello! this is gonna be a very mini series based off of the music vide ‘Señorita’ by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello. Feel free to watch the music video first to get a general gist of what is going to happen.

Words: 4.5k, I got carried away

-

Brad runs a hand through his dark curls, pushing them off of his forehead as he walks into the small café on the corner street of Long Valley. A white vest top clung to his torso with ease, broadcasting his muscles perfectly. His trousers were black, contrasting his vest top well. Only he could look that good in such a simple outfit. Everyone in the café that noticed his presence instantly looked away from the towering, intimidating man.

It was a hot day in Long Valley, everyone out with their hats, sunscreen lathered on their skin to protect them from the heat, shorts on everyone's legs and minimal shirts on their body. It was a bold statement for someone to be wearing jeans, but Brad Simpson loved being that bold statement, always. From his retro motorcycle he'd bought five years ago when he turned eighteen to his leather jackets, skinny jeans, broad shoulders. There was always at least one reason to look at Brad Simpson, even if it was just for the pleasure of looking at such an attractive person.

He sits down on one of the booth chairs in the retro café. The floor was tiled with white laminate tiles, the walls tiled up too with a strip of red as a pop of colour. The faux leather on the booths' benches and stool tops were the same burgundy red, matching the marble counter that drinks were currently being served on as people craved the cold, refreshing drinks.

The only reason Brad had found himself at the café at the day's peak was because he had some friends to meet up with who were passing through town. They were usually moving from city to city, placing bets, getting with girls, doing drugs, drinking alcohol. Brad would much rather do that in the comfort of his own town, where he knew everyone had links to get whatever he wanted far as cheap and as soon as possible. But with their unexpected arrival in town, Brad had agreed to meet them after their absence in his life.

He looks over his shoulder as a girl in a pink uniform-dress walks out of the door separating the café's bar from the kitchen. Orders were usually taken at the tables if people were planning on staying to eat, while quick drinks were ordered at the bar. So, expectantly, the girl ghosts her eyes over the café before landing on Brad, the only table that she knew hadn't been served yet.

Brad was well enough known in Long Valley—whether for his reputation with girls or his reputation with his bold statements, he was known, and not for the greatest reasons. Everyone seemed to know Brad, or at least know of him. He was a brooding boy, a constant stoic and unreadable expression glued onto his perfectly porcelain features: he was pretty difficult to miss.

However, the waitress walked over with such confidence—head held high, shoulders up, back arched—that Brad couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at her, a smirk hinting on his lips. She had dark hair, it fell to her hips, complimenting the curves Brad could see from her uniform-dress. A name tag with her name on was actually hidden from his view by her long hair, which made him want to push her hair behind her ear—not only a way of flirting, but a way of knowing what her name was. He didn't though, for she opened her mouth to begin talking before he had the chance.

"Welcome to Retro Bites," she says, her voice confidence unlike other waiters and waitresses who have cowered under his intimidating gaze. He was impressed she was keeping her cool, and he wondered if she was even aware of who he is. "Are you ready for me to take your order or would you like a few more moments to decide?"

"You on the menu?" He drawls, his eyes looking her over again. There was no evidence of blush, no evidence of swooning, and he knew it was a first.

"I'll give you a few moments to look at the menu," she says, rolling her eyes discreetly but Brad noticed. He chose not to say anything to her.

"Who said I wasn't ready to order?" He asks, his voice slow as he smirks up at her. He was in no rush for her to leave or for this conversation to be over.

"You thought I was on the menu," she says bluntly. "So I'm assuming you've not looked through it. If you had have looked through, you'd know I'm not on the menu."

He raises his eyebrows, surprised. He wasn't used to people talking to him, never mind back chatting. Yet she continued.

"And your sexist, unwanted comments are also not on the menu, last time I checked," she says. "So, as I said, I'll give you a few moments to look over the menu and then I'll come back to take your order."

She gives him a final smile, a smile that anyone who had dared to look over and see the minor dispute that had just occurred would've thought meant she was apologetic, or sweet. They'd definitely not think it was a sarcastic smile as she intended, and Brad received.

"What's your name?" He asks her, giving her no chance to turn around and leave. Instead, she brushed her hair off of her name tag for him to look at, since she didn't want to verbally engage with him. "Well, (Y/N), you've got quite a mouth on you, haven't you?"

She rolls her eyes in response.

"The cold shoulder already? We've only just met," he teases her, getting under skin successfully. He wanted to see how long she would last before she snaps and shouts at him; she seems like a feisty one. "Pass me the menu?"

The menu was nearer to him than her, but he was just trying to be difficult. He wanted to see if she'd be a good employee, telling the customer they're always right, doing as the customer wants.

She grabs the menu she had stuffed in her uniform pocket, throwing it down to the table for him to read. It wasn't laminated like the one on his table. In fact, it was crumpled up and creased from its lack of use yet constant position in her pocket, and he was far from impressed by its poor state.

"I said—,"

"Get it yourself," she says dryly. "You're right next to it."

He pushes the menu she had given him back to her before grabbing the menu. She takes the chance to leave the table and go to serve a couple of elderly that had walked in. They were regulars, she knew their order off by heart.

(Y/N) was fully aware of Brad Simpson's antiques—in fact, she knew someone first hand that had experienced his bad attitude. Her best friend, Taylor, had been walking home one night after a shift at his own workplace. It was only ten in the evening, maybe even earlier, and Taylor was wearing his own earphones as he walked down the street minding his own business. That was until two motorcycles pulled up to the side of the road and beat him to a pulp and stole all the money he'd earned.

It wasn't a surprise when Taylor came home and told her that it was Brad, he knew from the light on the lampposts that reflected onto the motorcycle. From that day onwards, (Y/N) hated every inch of Brad Simpson, even if she'd never had the displeasure of meeting him.

That was, until today.

By the time he's read through the menu and actually decided what he wants, his two friends from out of town are sat with him, laughing about some story from when they were high in a city up in Scotland. The three of them were loud in the quiet café, drowning out the sound of the eighties music that (Y/N)'s boss had put on in the background.

She walks out backwards from the door separating the kitchen and bar once more, this time holding a tray of two cups of coffee and some fries for the elderly couple. She serves them quickly and smiles before leaving and scanning over the café.

She inhales deeply, hoping her co-worker would take Brad's table instead, but of course her co-worker was too engrossed on the level of Candy Crush that they were adamant on beating, despite the game being years old by now, and totally out of trend.

Sighing, she grabs her notebook and pencil from her waistband, walking over to Brad's table with a false smile. His two friends weren't overly attractive, both sporting a black leather jacket, black trousers and a black shirt, ink exposed on their neck as a toothpick was in their mouths.

"Hello, welcome to Retro Bites," (Y/N) sounded like a broken record, repeating the same mantra for the billionth time that day. "Are you ready to order?"

"Ready to order some'a that ass!" The guy the nearest to her grins, taking his toothpick out and looking her up and down.

"I'll have a tray of fries and a coke," Brad says, glancing up at (Y/N) who looked evidently uncomfortable. In the time he had watched her walking around, he had time to admire her body but also understand why she was so sassy with him. "These will have a beer each."

She nods slowly, writing down their orders on the notepad. "Is that everything?"

"Yeah," Brad replies, glancing at his two friends who were surprised Brad wasn't making an offensive comment about the waitress. He sighs, trying not to ruin his reputation too much. "So you can go now."

Don't need to tell me twice, she thought before turning around and taking the order to the kitchen.

Brad felt bad for his comment that he made the first time she'd taken his order—she was just doing her job, not there to be perved on by customers. Maybe the fact that she had the balls to stand up to him made him feel bad, realising it's probably not the best thing to do to someone. He'd never say that to her though, she seems like the kind of person to gloat over him apologising to her.

Once their order was ready, she took a tray full of their drinks and went back into the café, making a beeline for their table before handing the drinks out for them and placing the fries in the middle. Brad slaps a ten pound note onto the table, paying for the food and drinks.

"Keep the change. It's your tip."

Surprised she got a tip from him, she takes it anyway with a curt nod, saying her usual scripted monologue about how they should enjoy their food and always feel free to call her for assistance.

She puts the ten pound note into the cash register by the bar, grabbing the change and putting it in the charity box rather than her own pocket. It was only fifty pence, so she didn't see why she should've kept it when someone else, a charity, could have it instead.

Not long after, Brad and his friends had finished drinking, eating, and talking really loudly and were ready to go. Brad got up first, sliding out of the booth and glancing around the café for (Y/N). She was serving another group of boys, however they were much more respectful than him and his friends as she smiles and laughed along with their innocent jokes. Brad's eyes lingered on her a little longer before he moves his head to face his friends who were complaining about the heat as they walked through the door.

That wasn't the last time Brad went to Retro Bites.

-

Brad walked into Retro Bites seven days later, all on his own. It had been a quiet day at the small diner, with only a few people littering around on the seats—a man sat at the bar, crying to the barman about his cheating wife, a lovestruck teenage couple smiling in the back corner, a group of young adults all laughing loudly. And then there was Brad, dressed in a white button up and his infamous black trousers.

He could see no sign of the waitress he'd arrived at the diner to see, though he thought he'd sit down and have a drink while he was here. The food and drink was nice enough, pretty standard, but the waitress he wanted to see was what really made him come back here.

He gets served by a woman with blonde hair and a kind smile as she takes his order quickly, her eyes never meeting Brad's out of fear. His name had been littered around town too many times for anyone to have the balls to look him in the eyes anymore.

Except, of course, (Y/N).

As the blonde waitress hands him his drink, he catches a glimpse of (Y/N)'s hair as she pulled up into a messy bun before taking the tray of food she needed to deliver to a the teenage couple. Brad made eye contact with her as she walked by, his fingers ghosting the ring of his latte.

"Anything else?" The waitress asks, pulling his attention from (Y/N).

"I'll have some fries," Brad says, digging out some money and handing it to her. "Keep the change."

She nods, moving away and keeping the change for herself as she gets his order of fries ready to be cooked.

"Brad Simpson wants some fries," the blonde waitress had said to the chef once she was in the kitchen and out of hearing range. "Get them done fast, yeah?"

"Yes, ma'am," the chef says, nodding and getting the fries done within only a few minutes. People knew better than to leave Brad Simpson waiting for too long.

She takes the box of fries into the diner, putting them down in front of him but his eyes were fixated on (Y/N) again as she set down some drinks for an elderly couple. As the blonde leans down to put the fries on the table, Brad's moved to the side so that he could still see (Y/N), catching her attention for a few seconds before the blonde speaks again.

"Is that everything?"

"Yeah," Brad nods, glancing at the blonde before trying to find (Y/N) again but she was walking back into the kitchen once more. He curses silently to himself, taking a sip of his latte before preying his eyes on the door in hope to grab (Y/N)'s attention again.

"Brad Simpson was looking at you," the blonde waitress had said. "Be careful, (Y/N, you know what he's like."

"I know what he's like better than anyone," she says. Most people that had confrontations with Brad Simpson never spoke about them, except her friend, Taylor. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

Her concerned friend and co-worker nods with a smile before tending to a table that had just been sat at. (Y/N) sighs before going out of the kitchen, too, where she sorts out the money in the cash register. She could feel eyes burning into her but she shook off the feeling as she takes money from her uniform that she got from customers and puts it into the cash register, putting her tips in to the charity pot.

They money was all stuffed in her pocket from when the diner had met rush hour and she didn't have time to put the money in the cash register. Now, it had quietened down significantly as it reached closing time.

"Hey."

(Y/N) looks up, startled. It was sudden, it was confident, and it was the voice of Brad Simpson. He sits down at the bar next to the cash register, looking at her as he puts down his plastic tray of fries.

"Want one?" He offers, his eyes showing no signs of malice. She shakes her head, though, looking back down at the money in her hands as she continues to sort out the register. "You sure? I don't offer my food that often."

"I'm sure, I'm not allowed to eat on the job," she replies, her voice soft and gentle, unlike the first time Brad met her. He liked the sound of her voice.

"I won't tell if you don't," he winks, shoving the fries towards her. "Besides, you look famished. You should get some food in your system."

She glances from the fries, to Brad, to the clock, before back to Brad as she pushes the fries back to him. "I finish in thirty minutes, I can wait until then to get my own food. But thanks."

"If you say so," he says, taking a fry and eating it. "How long you worked here?"

Long enough to know the intentions of assholes like you, she thought before shrugging. "Not sure exactly. Couple years, maybe."

"And I've never seen you before last week," he drawls, glancing over her once over. "Are you busy tonight?"

"Yes."

"What are you doing?"

"Pretending I'm busy so you don't ask me to hang out with you," she says bluntly, putting the cash away and closing the draw of the cash register.

He chuckles. "You've always got a witty comeback, hm? It's quite entertaining to listen." She stares at him blankly, not biting back with a comment because she does want to give him that satisfaction. "A friend of a friend of mine is having a party tonight. You should come."

Brad Simpson didn't request people's presence, he demands it. Most people would agree, comply, no questions asked, except (Y/N).

"I already told you, I'm busy."

"I'll keep you company, (Y/N)."

She felt weird at the sound of her name rolling off of her tongue, but she shoves the feeling deep, deep down to the pit of her stomach. "You're just giving more of a reason not to go."

"Wear something nice," he says, grabbing the receipt the blonde waitress had given him when he was being served. He turns it over, scribbling some words onto it. "Here's the address, it starts at nine. I'll be disappointed if you don't come."

He downs the rest of his lukewarm latte, putting the glass on the marble bar before winking at her, leaning the diner swiftly.

She picks up the receipt with the address written onto it, glancing once over it. She shook her head, digging it into the depth of her pocket.

-

(Y/N) hated the party as soon as she walked in. She knew no one other than Brad, who she hadn't even spotted yet. People were drinking and dancing and talking and taking lines on the windowsill, and she felt uncomfortable. It wasn't her scene, she knew that before she even arrived, yet she still came without a real explanation as to why.

She wore a black dress, one that flowed from the waist yet still showed off her entire figure perfectly. Her hair was curled as it sat by her breasts, she wore a bracelet on her wrist and a ring on her middle finger, and she wore hooped earrings. She felt stunning, she looked stunning.

"Hello, beautiful," a voice says in her ear and she turns around, hand raised in defence and surprise, thankful its only Brad. Her shoulders relaxed. "Knew you'd end up coming. Can I get you a drink?"

She looked over his outfit for a moment, taking in his appearance. He wore black jeans that were cuffed up at the bottom, a brown plaited belt to keep them up while a white shirt was tucked into his jeans. He looked good, she couldn't deny that, but she knew it wasn't enough to make him get what he wanted from her. She wasn't as shallow to go for someone over their looks.

"No. I don't drink."

He nods slowly, his arm going over his shoulder because he knew people were looking at him. More specifically, the guys who wanted to catch (Y/N)'s attention and the girls who wanted to catch his attention. Brad was making a statement, claiming her as his for the night, proving to make sure that no one tried it on with her.

They walk through the lounge of the party, more people bustled around as they dance and laugh and gossip and drink. He had ditched his red solo cup somewhere else a while ago, which made it easier to spin her around and hold her hands at arms' length.

"Dance?" He says loudly over the music and she nods, letting him pull her close.

Her arms were slung loosely over his neck, his hands on her waist as they swayed to the beat of the slow song that he had told the DJ to put on 'once he was dancing with the prettiest girl in the room'.

"Surprised you came tonight," he starts a conversation, his head looking downwards as he makes eye contact with her.

"Me too," she says. "Don't know why I did come, actually. I don't like it here very much."

They both knew why she came, but neither of them wanted to say it to one another. She would just deny it and he would rub it in her face.

He spins her around as the beat drops in the song. She only turns one hundred and eighty degrees, causing Brad to pull her back flush again his chest. His lips dipped down to her ear, brushing over and sending a tingling sensation over her entire body.

"You look very pretty tonight," he says in her ear quietly. "The dress suits you, it's nice seeing you out of your uniform."

He spins her again, she turns a few times before he pulls her back to his chest, this time so they're facing each other.

"If the only reason you invited me here tonight was to offer me compliments so I'll end up sleeping with you, then I'll be leaving," she says, pushing herself away from his chest.

He was surprised, never being rejected before. Nonetheless, he begins to play it off cool. "Who said anything about sleeping together?"

"I'm not stupid, I think I know your intentions," she shakes her head. "You forget that you're known around town a lot, I've heard the rumours about you."

Rumours. Rumours, rumours, rumours. He hated that word, he hated every letter of it. There were too many untrue rumours about him, that the word started to settle wrong in his bones. There was nothing he hated more than falsities.

"They're rumours for a reason," he says but she shakes her head. "But believe what you want."

She takes a few steps back. "I'm going to go home, this isn't my scene." He doesn't react, he just watches her move away from him before she turns and walks out of the house, glad that the visit was short.

-

(Y/N) walks out of her work, just finishing her final shift of the week. She was ready to go home, relax, take some time to herself. After the failed party the night before, she was still exhausted from getting ready to go out.

She walks through the door, pulling her jacket tight over her body. It was cold as the darkness began to settle over the blue skies, turning it navy and the clouds gray.

"Y/N)," Brad's voice startled here, always seeming to be welcomed by surprise. She turns to her left to see him leaning against his motorbike with his arms folded. "I came to apologise."

"For what?"

"Misleading my intentions," he says, pushing himself off of the bike as he walks over to her. She sighs, not wanting to engage in a silly conversation with him. It wasn't that serious, she had hoped he'd get the hint and would leave her alone though.

"I'm not bothered, Brad. You didn't have to drive all this way to apologise."

"I know, but it felt like it an apology was due," he says, lifting up sunglasses she didn't even notice he was wearing. "For my comments the first time we met, for pushing you to go to the party, for misleading you with my intentions."

"Apology accepted," she says, beginning to move forward but Brad steps in front of her. "What are you doing? I have a bus to catch?"

"What's your address? I'll take you home," he offers and she opens her mouth to object but he beats her to it. "Consider it a part of my apology."

She sighs, nodding only because it would be quicker for her to get home. She's compliant, following him to his bike before he hands her his helmet, causing her to frown.

"You're not wearing one?"

"I've been riding this bike for years," he says with a chuckle. "Don't need one, really. Besides, you should wear it so you feel safer."

She nods slowly, putting it on her head before clipping it together. She gets on the bike, sat behind him as he grips the bike handles, ready to leave.

"Hold on tight, (Y/N)," he says as he turns it on. "Don't want you falling off."

She sighs, holding on to his torso as she jokes. "I'm starting to think that this was your way of getting me to hold you."

He chuckles before getting her address and setting off, the roar of the engine loud in her sensitive ears as they drive through the streets of Long Valley. It was dark, street lights blocking out the shadows as they lit up people's faces. Barely anyone was walking on the sidewalks anyway, most people resorting to driving at this time of night. The few shops that were open were dimly lit and mostly empty, giving the town a barren feeling.

When they arrive at her address, Brad turns off the engine of his motorcycle and helps her off as she's a bit dizzy. He only knew he way to her house because he's known every inch of Long Valley since he was a little kid.

"Thank you," she says honestly once she's off of the bike and has her balance back.

"My pleasure," he says. "Maybe I'll see you around, (Y/N)."