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inbloomwriting · 6 months ago

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Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked.

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be.

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!”

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.”

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.”

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on.

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for.

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.”

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?”

He has a point, she has to give him that.

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.”

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.”

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool?

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?!

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?”

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips.

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?”

“Like two weeks ago.”

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!”

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.”

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst.

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.”

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one.

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?”

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.”

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.”

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.”

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying.

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks.

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.”

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.”

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.”

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?”

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.”

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.”

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?”

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.”

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.”

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture.

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.”

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?”

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though.

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen.

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does.

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?”

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.”

“You feeling alright?”

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.”

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.”

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.”

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.”

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!”

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love.

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!”

“Can you feel that?”

“No, not yet.”

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.”

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks.

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?”

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah, it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.”

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths.

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying.

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise.

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me.

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.”

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.”

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.”

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?”

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while.

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?”

“Huh?”

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant.

Again with the life and the plans.

“I’m fucking nervous.”

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.”

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.”

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.”

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.”

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself.

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.”

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.”

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).”

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.”

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.”

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.”

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department.

“Jamie, welcome home.”

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).”

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.”

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.”

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety.

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones.

“This is surreal.”

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently.

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really.

“Do they know?”

“Does who know?”

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.”

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation.

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.”

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?”

“What about her?”

“Is she — are you — how are things?”

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.”

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.”

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.”

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.”

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.”

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?”

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.”

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x y/n #inbloomwriting #jamie tartt x fem!reader #everythingtomefic #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines

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wellcomeoneileen · 2 months ago

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Why does Randy Harrison deserve compensation? What happened to him? You can DM me if it's not okay to be public

Hey! No it’s totally okay.

⚠️disclaimer - I am a NEW fan and so I am NOT the most informed at all. Other people like @brian-kinney-apologist like really know shit. I initially found things bc watching S4 made me go oh there is bts shit going on for sure and googled, and then when I got on tumblr I saw a bunch of posts talking about it, too.

Lots of older sources are harder to find now bc they didn’t do a digital preservation or the website is expired, but here is what I’ve found, from heated Advocate articles whilst the show aired and then from more measured reflections from podcasts around 2016.

Randy was young and it was his first TV show - when he started he didn’t even have an agent, and really didn’t know what he was getting into. He had done sex scenes on stage and thought that he was pretty prepared for what was to come.

However, he has stated he ended up feeling pretty objectified, such as hearing “we need more shots of Justin’s ass” regularly or expressing a desire to not to go-go dancing type scenes (King of Babylon upset him) and then even more go-go dancing being added (S2 Sap scenes). He was also told to act less gay by casting directors for the show, and to “try to be more butch because Justin isn’t out of the closet”

The show pre-dates intimacy coordinators and there have been allusions, including from the actresses Thea and Michelle, that the sex scenes could be uncomfortable to film.

There was BTS clashing, with producer Tony Jones !!reportedly!!! Saying that Randy was a bitch to work with and “showrunners” “reportedly” saying they would never work with Randy again. There are two interview clips, one from when the show was airing, and one from 2016, when CowLip say they wanted all actors to be comfortable on set, and in BOTH clips , like 15 years apart, Randy kinda like laugh/roll his eyes and Gale looks at him very bemusedly. They had bigger reactions in the ~2003 clip.

He was openly pretty angry as the show went on. He told the Advocate that he would never be friends with or respect Justin if real. He disapproved of the Britin relationship. He said he had to fight to include the scene of Justin topping Brian, which was very important to him. Leading into season 5 he stated he hoped Justin was killed off by getting hit by a truck (obviously being glib, but like he was mad lol)

He has said that lots of scenes needed to be reshot because he struggled to do them so much, like the Cody sexy gun scene that made him so uncomfortable, and then either he or Gale said S5 sex scenes were reshot a lot because they just couldn’t stop laughing at that point anymore.

Peter and Scott recently have said the only time anyone asked for actors’ opinions was right after season 1 ended, and to ME they sounded kinda cheeky about it, all these years later, so perhaps it was a cast sticking point? Unsure, and it wasn’t even Randy who said that. Fat grain of salt.

He has more recently reflected on this time period and expressed regret he went out the way he did, and he understands things better and honors his craft more (heavy paraphrasing!) bc he was mentally checked out by the end and wishes he had finished strong instead.

Also, the cast didn’t realize when signing on how isolated they would be from The Industry. Randy has spoken about this in an unrelated podcast, as have the actors who play Ted and Emmett. NYC or LA are where you want to be for networking, and then signing on to spend the majority of the year in Toronto negatively impacted their careers, they feel. Randy has said he had to start from scratch after the show ended, and Peter and Scott have said Showtime had no idea how to market the show nor their stars, and so they had to just watch as all the initial hype fizzled and nothing was done with them. They were contracted to work too much to seriously be involved elsewhere, while simultaneously not getting good exposure, which I IMAGINE created a dire sort of mood and morale on set. < personal interpretation and fictionalizing history.

Meaning, Randy probably at the very least FELT like he had spent five years on a show that didn’t respect him and it was largely for nothing. He has since stated he appreciates the opportunity and it is the reason he was finically secure, for which he is deeply grateful.

And then finally the fans! He had stalker(s?) and tons of creepy people and was heavily typecast and people would come up to him frequently, which made him uncomfy, and would furthermore act like he was actually Justin, which made him super uncomfy. He was kinda like Chappell Roan!! He was like hey I’m not Justin I’m a person and y’all are freaks. He has publicially declined to speak on the stalking issues, which given his vocal responses to other issues, indicates to ME that it’s pretty personal and upsetting (I mean it’s stalking it’s obviously horrible but you know what I mean). During the show he had a boyfriend that fans like tormented online and even on posters (that bit comes from Tumblr or another forum, so not like verified info on my part at all) because they shipped “Gandy” so hard. I know I’ve read on tumblr about the insane Gandy people but all I remember is they were intense and insane and negatively impacted Randy’s actual real life. Again, that’s info from fans that I haven’t read in article or heard from out of his mouth. Secondary source lol.

This point is PURE speculation, but early interviews with the whole cast were super excited, and they all talked about how excited they were for something ground breaking. By the end, people were angry or giving fluff responses, or in Peter’s case; calmly stating the show was a soap opera and that’s okay. I FEEL like everyone thought they were signing up for something more real/gritty/positive impact to society and then were like oh I’m here to look hot in this show that only moms watch to get them turned on to have sex with their husband. Cool.

Now, do I agree with that - no. But, the show audience was vastly different than expected, and the artistic direction might have been too, both of which might have really disappointed people. Esp Randy and maybe Gale. Randy was a capital T theatre person, and Gale was too and had lots of experimental work and like performance art. Randy has ALSO expressed displeasure with some theater work he did because he didn’t think it was fresh and the audience was only older wealthy white people, so we do know that this sort of thing does matter to his sense of fulfillment at work.

TLDR; had to shoot scenes he didn’t want to, several times, felt objectified on set, disagreed with his character’s direction, maybe felt like he wasn’t being listened to artistically, was cut off from other work opportunities, didn’t appear to get along with leadership, had bad fans, was young and in deep over his head, and at the very least *started* with no career or social support system.

Again!! Am not the most knowledgeable person !!! I do NOT want to spread misinformation so hopefully I’ve tagged where I’m reading into things vs actual quotes but also people who have actually been around pls feel free to say 🙋um actuallllyyyyy

#qaf #queer as folk #ask #randy harrison #this is everything in my head but literally if I’m wrong let me face my punishment

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izu · 6 months ago

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hey just wanna say that i LOVE your art!!! i’ve seen you on twitter and ugh just can’t get enough of it! also do you happen to have some johnshi headcannons?? cuz if you do i would like to see them all!! :3

thank you so much!!! i hope to draw more.... also get ready bc i have way too many headcanons and this'll probably be super long winded unfortunately . this isn't all of it but its most of it

- kenshi is a heavy sleeper. after moving in with johnny post-tournament he begins to unwind from his former unhealthy schedule that was supported by his yakuza lifestyle. johnny wakes up at 5 am to work out until lunch, and kenshi sleeps in til like noon or 1. johnny thinks its cute

- they either own a fuck ton of cats or ferrets. johnny seems like a ferret guy to me

- they like watching director's cuts of movies instead of actual movies because kenshi can actually understand a little more of whats happening while the directors explain certain scenes and go into depth about the composition and art direction. its a win win situation for both of them

- johnny actually reads a ton of books, but is embarrassed about it. leftovers from being a ""nerd"" in high school. kenshi thinks its adorable and he likes hearing johnny retell the book plot and express his exasperation with it unfolding as he reads

- johnny has a sweet tooth and kenshi has a more refined palette, he will try anything johnny sets in front of him though, even if he isnt much of a sweets guy

- on that same note, johnny is very good at cooking! every other night he plans a meal for them, and it's almost always a winner. lots of japanese style dishes (took some trial and error on johnny's part) because he wants to impress kenshi

- they go to red carpet events together after a couple of years of dating, but for a while they pretended (to the press, too) that kenshi was his newest bodyguard. rumors spread fast though and it ended up being a perfect time to let johnny come out publicly as bi

- kenshi's parents are actually very very supportive. i think he'd be nervous at first but his mom thinks johnny is very handsome and his father agrees its a good change for their family. kenshi has two sisters who absolutely raise hell over kenshi nabbing a sexy gaijin star and he is very embarrassed about it. much to johnny's delight

- they spend every weekend on the balcony of johnny's new loft in his jacuzzi just talking and being sappy. kenshi genuinely gets a lil upset when things come up and they miss their date nights

- everytime kenshi returns to the states after visiting home johnny makes a big scene at the airport. lunging at him, crying sobbing

- kenshi proposes first, but johnny had been nervously trying to wait for a good time to do it himself. one upped. he is still very upset about this well into their marriage as old yaois

- kenshi is the top 👍 i think we all knew this but still

- even if he doesn't need it, its sort of a ritual between them so they never stopped; johnny is still kenshi's sight dog when they go out and he doesn't feel like relying on sento.

- sento's ancestors like johnny a lot and kept being annoying about kenshi needing to get hitched already hskw7kejej

- kenshi is achillean, gay. always has been. his arrangement with suchin was. arranged. and she was his lesbian beard for a while. the two are very very close and she visits their home often. johnny is trans and bisexual, but he's only out about being bi.

- johnny tends to have a really shitty sleep cycle, light sleeper, easily thrown into insomnia, the busy street life can really fuck up his routine when hes already had a terrible day. which ends up with the both of them on the couch, talking, watching a show, kenshi with his head on johnny's shoulder. they fall asleep like that 7 times outta 10

- the older they get the sappier and grosser they get . everyone who knows them hates their gay asses . jax and sonya included

- also they both get dad bods when they get older bc of all the good eating. neither are insecure about it. its hot

- kenshi is undeniably the spoiled one. gifts, fancy dinner dates, unrelenting affection and praise. he starts believing he deserves good things, that he is loved, solely by johnny's persistence with showing him instead of telling him

- cris ends up being their friend again after a while. i just dont like the cris villainization when its contrasted with johnshi support. she had her reasons to be upset at her alcoholic, spending-addicted husband, y'all

- johnny like action/sci fi movies. kenshi likes romcoms.

- they host parties. they're awesome parties.

#answered #anonymous #asks #johnshi #kencage #there's definitely more i will add as i go i guess

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month ago

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Re: Steve with a baby boy versus a baby girl: how would the reader in your different stories react to this? Which ones would ask him what's up with that, who would ignore it, who would start talking sports with the baby girl very pointedly in front of Steve . . . ?

I knew--I f***ing KNEW--someone would ask for the distinct series' Steves eventually, but this is not the ask I thought it would be about 😅 These contain some spoilers for things that either have yet to be written into fics OR won't be detailed into full storylines. You've been warned!

**Follow up to this post. Warnings for some curse words, whoops.

Fools Rush In

JJ Rogers, little boy, super curious and loves science like his own Ma, sickly like his papa was originally. Keeps though? Keeps is pretty darn happy with how Steve gently dotes on his son. Since James Joseph isn't exactly built for wrestling and running around, Steve doesn't push for that kind of interaction. They love doing crafts together, and Steve willingly participates in small, fun experiments--he's even super fascinated by some of those like a little kid himself!

It Had To Be You

The worst offender of the stereotyping for his kiddos, but in his defense, the fancy little girl's clothing from designers is precious, too. Sarah and the Power Ladies gift so much cute sh*t that it's difficult to get away from, but they also set a great example for your daughter doing whatever she wants in any clothing!

Since Steve has that workout equipment right there in the penthouse, he immediately involves his son in exercising. Precious has had so much bad experience with toxic masculinity, you are protective of your daughter anywhere near business workplaces. It's rarely only Steve taking her around the office with him. That's the hazard of your rise to power, though, and you and Steve both actively think about how not to pass that concern onto the next generation needlessly.

Steve gets way better about treating them differently as boys and girls age. By the age of ten or so, Steve's universally just a pushover. Spoils all his kids completely rotten--though, in all fairness, the kids have good heads on their shoulders.

Autumn Is Healing

To be honest, Rosie is just elated to see someone show kindness to her children at all, and you don't really have any issue with Steve's traditional approach. (In my mind, however, Rosie does not have any biological children with Steve. She's been through too much to start that again. They could adopt an older child or two, perhaps, but I don't think she gives birth again.)

Hideout

Ooooooooooooookay, there's...some plot points I have to skip over in order to answer this one, but yes, Tops certainly dings Steve when he treats boys and girls with different standards. You're having none of it. Steve, of all people, should know you can't predict what anyone is going to be, or be good at, as an adult. He should nurture any and all hobbies. Period.

Threadbare

I never specified girl or boy for this baby, and I've never leaned either way. You best believe Button does not allow Steve to favor 'girly' vs. 'manly' activities **if either kid has already shown interest. That's the big caveat to that: if your daughter hasn't shown any interest in sports or whatever, then you're not going to step in. If your son shows interest in fashion, like you, or art, like Steve, then you can be damn sure you fight for Steve to honor that.

Sun, Salt, and Shield

No one knows what sex the baby/child is until puberty due to the variations in tail- and mermaid-anatomy. Tony isn't allowed to try to figure it out, and very pointedly, you don't care. It doesn't matter.

This drives Steve a little bonkers. Does his kid need to cover their chest for modesty? Or are there different levels of nutrients needed for girls and boys? Steve wants a classic fatherhood experience, but that's very hard to do when he has to explain why there's a different way to toss a ball based on their genitalia...

You respond by having him show you the different ways to pitch and then whacking the ball so hard with your tail that it can easily be categorized as a 'home run' both ways. It doesn't matter.

Safety Captain

No clue if they ever have kiddos. The main story won't go nearly that far into their relationship, but as a father, I could see this Steve being pretty relaxed. He would be so excited to enjoy sports and stuff with a son, but he'd be the most open to including a daughter in physical activities right away. They'd obviously learn to swim alongside learning to walk, no questions asked, no exceptions. Pool and water safety would be drilled into those toddlers.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: If there is another series I didn't touch on that you want to know about, just ask. Some of them weren't an immediately unique answer, so I left them out.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #ro answers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers headcanon

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leajdh · 1 year ago

Text

Gold rush

Chapter four: Ayo, fuck this. Are we dating? Are we fucking? Are we best friends? Are we something in between that? I wish we never fucked, and I mean that. But not really..

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:

Against all odds, everything is going smoothly.

It’s only been two days since the picture was posted on my instagram, so I shouldn’t crow too soon, but how can I not when the wildcard Satoru Gojo follows all my rules without any objections?

It’s just too good to be true, but it is true.

At least for now.

We haven’t really started yet with creating a narrative. So far we just handled everything between each other. I sent him a list of rules that he agreed on and we both signed a contract. Our contract likewise our fake relationship needed an expiration date, so we came up with 21 days after his first game at the Stanley cup.

With that we make sure that people don’t suspect us from faking the relationship. We also decided the reason why we will break up is the long distance, something like; My life and home is in Idaho and his life and career is in New York City. I know, not romantic at all, but realistic.

Coming to my rules, they are simple but strict.

Satoru isn’t allowed to post anything without asking me beforehand (exceptions are campaign pictures and videos).

The reason for this rule is simple. I don’t trust Satoru to not post anything stupid that will ruin the narrative I’m going for. With the picture of his head on my thigh, he set a tone for our relationship from which I want to break away. Everything will be family friendly from now on. A lovestory Disney would want to cinematize.

This rule also includes no talking to the media unless his team (which I am part of) approves.

2. Decluttering his social media.

Initially I thought I had to do much more. Suguru told me after the crash Satorus PR-team deleted every party picture or video. It didn’t matter if alcohol was in the frame or not. All this is gone. However, I decluttered even more. Yesterday I started my research on the people Satoru follows. Without mercy I deleted everyone I thought wasn't good for his image to be associated with. The only problematic one I didn’t unfollow is one of his teammates. Toji Fushiguro.

Apparently a welcome visitor at casinos and race tracks. Bad enough for me already, but the cherry on top are the allegations from older women that, before he became a pro ice hockey player, he used to scam them for money and housing.

But I looked more into it and I would rather say these old hags did not really get scammed. More so they were his sugar mamas and now they are mad at him for leaving them. Hence there was never a criminal prosecution.

The biggest problem with Satorus social media are all the girls he follows.

With a lot of them, he publicly hooked up. All gorgeous women; either models, singers or actresses. I gulped at that and thought on how to handle it. My initial thought was to simply not do anything. Just let them follow each other. I don’t want to come across as the girlfriend who is super jealous and if the media figures out (which they will) that Satoru unfollowed all his former liaisons, it will be a headline and I will be the villain.

But this issue clashes with another rule.

3. For the entirety of our fake relationship neither him nor me are allowed to engage in any romantic or sexual relationship with another person. Doesn’t matter if it is happening in real-life or just online. Nothing that can cause any fanfare.

Personally I do not think it will be a problem for me but I have less (a lot less) faith in Satoru. He is known for his playboy lifestyle, so I was generally surprised as he agreed so easily to this rule. Even as I wanted to include a paragraph in our contract that I am given the honor to cut his penis of if he cheats.

Sadly Ichiji told me such a paragraph isn’t legally allowed.

It would have definitely strengthened my trust.

Back to rule 2. I therefore just unfollowed some of them. Some had been canceled before for actually serious stuff like internet scams or selling their fans overpriced junk. As soon as I saw a post with CODE: whateverhernameis20 I unfollowed.

4. I created an excel list with amazing athletes, especially female ice hockey players for him to follow. As an athlete himself, he needs to be more supportive and generally show more interest in what is going on in the sports world.

On different dates he will follow certain athletes so it doesn’t look suspicious that he randomly decides to follow a ton of them. Everything in nibbles.

Saving his reputation is a climb not a shortcut.

5. He attends AA meetings each week. For this rule I was given an annoyed snort from Satoru but he did not say anything after I looked daggers at him. I will drive him there and pick him up, no excuses.

Five rules but the most important one isn’t for him. It is for myself.

I need to try to trust him.

Trusting someone isn’t easy, especially after everything he did to me. But I have to overcome my issues with him to make this work.

In spite of everything, I want him to be loved by his fans again. I want the best for him.

Only when he succeeds will I be able to make peace with myself and move on.

Every therapist would shake their head and rip out their hair at this statement but I never learned how to correctly get over things and move on. All I know are challenges and they made me move forward, so I will handle this my way. The way even Suguru thinks would suit me the best.

Today I am late as I run down the tribune in my boots. Satoru is already training, skating sideways in zigzag lines as Mei Mei screams instructions at him.

Stumbling down the stairs I notice Suguru, who’s intensely watching the training. With a huff I fall next to him on the bench. “Sorry, I’m late but I couldn’t find the pink stockings off the set. I hope white is fine too”, I breathe as I tie my white skates on. Suguru turns his head to the side and watches me, blinking a few times.

As for today, we will take the first official photo of Satoru and I together. Essentially confirming our relationship. So far everything is just rumors, neither of us has confirmed anything. With this picture we will officially start the fake dating storyline.

“White’s his favorite color and it suits you, you look really pretty”, his eyes are glued to my face and he smiles. Before I have the chance to turn red, Mei Meis' scream startles me.

“You’re late!”

I look at her as she is now turned towards me. Apologetic, I put my hands up and Suguru snickers beside me.

“How did your ears survive her screaming all those years?”, Suguru asks me as I finish tying my skates. I put a hand behind my ear and joke: “What did you say?”

He laughs lightly again and I am happy about his reaction.

Standing up I stretch a bit before I go on the ice. Upon hearing no more skates scratching the ice, I look at the rink and see Satoru staring at me, which sends a shiver down my spine.

Since the day I agreed on being his fake girlfriend I have had a hard time maintaining eye contact with him, hell, even being near him makes me unbelievably nervous.

Worst of all, I can’t tell why. I should actually be more relaxed around him since we buried our conflict and work together now, but as soon as I feel his freaky blue eyes on me, I feel like a deer in the headlights.

Suguru softly strokes his index finger over my hip bone. I quickly turn my head towards him.

“Hey, are you alright?”, he asks and looks at me with a frown. His glances never make me nervous. When he looks at me, it feels nice and warm. Meanwhile Satorus peeks make me feel vulnerable like he can see right through me.

All flaws, all my thoughts, open for him to see and mock. His stare gives me a weird sense of self doubt.

I shake the thought off.

“Just feeling a bit fussy”, I sigh: “You know, this is all really weird.”

“I know”, he grins: “but it will all work out, so no need to worry.” I wish I could be as much of an optimist as Suguru. He gets up too and I notice the significant height difference between us. Even with my skates on he is taller than me. Half a head shorter than Satoru, but Satorus is also freakishly tall.

“You are going on the ice too?”, I point at Sugurus' feet which are in skates.

“Somebody has to take the pictures”, he responds.

“Right”, I reply with a neutral smile but internally I am pouting and stomping my feet.

This makes everything even harder. Playing all lovey-dovey with Satoru will be hard enough, but now having Suguru focus on all the details and probably giving pointers.

I should have stayed in bed.

We walk down to the rink entry. I throw the blade protectors to the side and step on the ice, gliding over it with ease. I stop next to Satoru, whose entire focus is on me.

“Good to see you, princess. Looking like there was no pea under your mattress”, he grins and I twist my mouth in confusion.

“The princess and the pea. Did your dad never read you fairytales?”

He knows the answer to that, but he still likes to get a rise out of me.

“I know the fairytale but your comment still makes no sense.”

He skates closer to me and I focus on his nose, so it at least looks like I am looking in his eyes.

“It’s no fun explaining it.”

“No one is forcing you.”

“Well, maybe there was no pea under your mattress but you definitely stood up with the wrong foot.”

I roll my eyes and skate a bit backwards.

“It is my way to say that you look well rested.”

“Thank you?”, I frown, unsure what well rested means. A weird compliment? A strange gag? Whatever it is, nothing about us screams boyfriend and girlfriend.

“And you look well exhausted.”

His hair is flat on his scalp, single pieces of hair glued to his sweaty forehead. He has reddish cheeks and sweat drops travel down his neck to his covered collarbone. He breathes still a bit heavy, the hot air he puffs out turning white due to the temperature.

I curse myself for finding him incredibly hot at this stage.

Why does he have to look hot all the time?

This is unnatural!

“I’ve been here since 7am while you probably had some sweet dream about me”, he grins again, well not again. He is grinning at me the entire time.

“You mean about your sponsors. Burberry wants inclusive rights for my public outfits, making me an ambassador.”

“No need to thank me.”

“I am not thanking you, I will thank you once Dior comes through. Checked clothes do not really suit me.”

He chuckles: “Quite picky.”

“Are you really surprised?”

“Not at all.”

I foolishly look in his eyes and feel that shiver again. Turning my head instantly, I gulp and look for Suguru. He’s talking with Mei Mei, both of them stepping on the ice as well. As they glide towards us, I feel strong arms slinging around my shoulders from behind, holding me into place so I do not slither away. Satoru places his sharp chin on my head and exhales. I’m as frozen as the ice under my feet.

“I know women hate this more than anything, but smile. We are in love or have you forgotten?”

He is right, but how can I smile at him if I can't even look in his eyes. This is going to be a disaster.

“You’re messing up my hair”, is all I can mutter.

He inhales and I feel his broad chest extend against my back. His body is a living heater in this cold hall.

Warmth spreads through my entire body, especially in places I should not feel hot for him.

“Nonsense, you look like an angel”, his chin moves from my head to my shoulder as he leans more forward, his arms still around me.

“Have I ever told you how much your little skirts turn me on?”

My breath is stuck in my throat, even if I had something on my mind to return, I physically couldn’t.

“Well, have I?”

Why does he have to torture me? I shake my head, still unable to move much less talk.

He huffs disappointed. “I would prefer if you used your words, but I will teach you another time.”

He instantly lets go of me and I can barely stand on my wobbly legs, only now noticing that he held me really secure. Before he skates past me towards Suguru and Mei Mei, who are only a few feet away now, he pinches my left butt cheek.

“Now smile, we are in love, don’t forget it”, without giving me a second look, but I know he is grinning like the devil himself.

I will kill him.

“Are you ready?”, Mei Mei asks me. With a dry mouth and still in a state of shock I nod.

I’m the furthest away from being ready.

After what felt like hours, we still did not manage to take a good picture. We tried different poses, tried to fake spontaneous pictures and even left the rink to take some pictures on the tribune. I cross my arms over my chest and try to remain positive. Just one good picture and I can get away from him.

Get a grip!

The worst thing is, Satoru is a natural talent. He looks perfect on every photo, while I look- “It looks like you just met a fan!”, Mei Mei tells me: “You know you can look at him, right?” Why does everyone have to torture me? As if this entire situation isn’t awkward and embarrassing enough.

I sigh loudly and throw my hands up in frustration. “I’m trying”, I mutter. I can’t even look in his eyes for a second, before turning my face away and becoming a nervous wreck.

“Then stop with this customer-service-smile!”, Mei Mei spits back. She isn’t known for having patience.

“I don’t know, each pose seems way too unnatural. I don’t like how the pictures turn out”, even if I had been able to look at Satoru all lovey-dovey, the pictures wouldn’t give me the vibe I want.

“Usually you aren’t being that difficult”, she adds and I want to strangle her.

Satoru says nothing, just leaning on the edge of the rink, waiting for instructions. He hasn’t tried anything funny, but his gaze never leaves me and I am too well aware of that.

I shake the goosebumps off.

“I just don’t like it…”, I mumble and Mei Meis nose flares. I can tell she is angry with my behavior.

Before the situation can escalate, Suguru suggests: “How about we try it again tomorrow with a new approach? It has no value to try and force it now, besides Satoru has a massage appointment in thirty minutes.”

I don’t want another try, I want to get this over with, but Suguru is right, as always. Whatever block I have in my mind, it is my problem and I need to fix it. I chew on nothing and act as nonchalant as possible.

“Okay fine, tomorrow.”, I hum and want to set off, just getting out of the rink and home. But Suguru stops me just as I am about to leave the ice. “Hey, just so you know, you did well. This”, he swirls his index finger in a circle “isn’t easy. It takes time to get used to each other.”

He is so nice. I sometimes hate him for it.

“But Satoru and you will be a great team, I can feel it”, he cracks a crooked smile at me and I smile back.

“That’s the smile I wanted!”, Mei Mei screams over and I instantly lose it, looking back and forth between her and Suguru, whose smile turns softer.

“I will see you tomorrow”, I step off the rink and wave good-bye to Mei Mei and ignore Satorus gaze again.

I’m such a coward.

With a groan I fall on the couch next to Utahime, who is eating soup and watches TV. She turns down the volume and pats my head.

“From your reaction I guess it didn’t go well.”

I just groan more into the soft cushion of the couch.

“What happened? Do I need to kill him? You know I would do it.”

Utahime was against this entire fake relationship. She can’t stand Satoru, thinking the same things as me. He’s arrogant, self-centered and reckless. And his good looks do nothing for her.

I wish I was immune to it too.

“No, not he is the problem. I am!”, I flip over on my back and look up at her: “I get so uptight and irritable when I am around him. I don’t know how to explain it and it affects the photos.”

She frowns.

“You know what this sounds like?”, then she gives me a small grin. “Stop, no, it isn’t like that at all.” And it really isn’t.

The more I think about it, the more it is clear that everything is connected to the first day we met. Hell, we nearly had sex in my car and afterwards we wanted to blackmail each other. Not the best way to start a fake relationship, but I can’t tell her. Nobody knows about any of this and I am just glad no one asked how Satoru even got a picture of his head on my thigh. I’m a good liar but I have no tale for this one.

“So what is it then?”

“I don’t know”, I sob in my hands. Hime just keeps on patting my hair.

“You can always quit, right?”

Another slight fabrication I told her, so she wouldn’t get too concerned. Contractually I’m bound to Satoru until our end date.

“Yes, but I don’t want to”, I sigh: “I just need to get a grip.” Suguru is right, it takes time to adjust to the entire case.

I managed tougher challenges.

I can do it.

“And rethink this entire photoshoot. It looked like we were high schoolers going to our first prom and my parents forced us to take pictures. Maybe we should just hire paparazzi, who take the first picture of us together on a date or whatever”, I sigh, frustrated with myself.

She still pats my head and slurps her soup, just allowing me to let my mind figure out something on its own.

“Or maybe we should just let our PR teams make it official and never post a picture. No, that’s not good either”, I grunt some more and sit up. Instead of answering me, Hime just holds a full spoon under my nose, not saying a word. I put it in my mouth and eat. She knows me. I don’t want any advice, I just want to think out loud.

In the end I know I will find a solution. I always do.

And if not, I still have Suguru, who seems like the true mastermind of solutions.

He will get me.

I can count on him.

I spend the rest of the day running errands and buying myself a new phone using one of Satorus cards.

He insisted on giving me one. Not just to buy a new phone (it was his fault I threw my old one against the wall, obviously), but also for other stuff I want. I told him I don’t want his money, which he didn’t understand. Why else would I have agreed on being his fake girlfriend?

I didn’t have the guts to tell him everything Suguru and I had discussed and my five reasons, so I told him I have my own reasoning and it actually isn’t his business.

While I said that, I got nervous again and couldn’t look at him, crossing my arms to at least look a bit confident.

However, as I mentioned before he can see right through me and I swear to God he stared me down without saying a single word, just to make me more nervous until I had no other choice than to grab the card out of his hand and declare defeat by accepting it.

But this arrangement has nothing to do with money. I’m not buyable. I do this to grow as a person.

And for a new phone (again, his fault I broke it).

After that I will put his card away and never touch it again. I do not want to be in his debt in any kind of way.

It is better if he owes me something, which he does. Just by me agreeing to help him, he is in my debt and I would like to keep it that way.

If he is on the edge of messing up, I can guilt trip him. If he is even really capable of feeling guilt.

At least towards me.

I still don’t get him. How he feels towards me is an enigma.

Does he like me? Ha, good joke. No, why should he? All we did so far was playing with one another. He wants a fake relationship with me because I’m a goody two-shoes in the public eye, not particularly because he likes me.

Does he hate me? Also no, I would say. I don’t hate him. If I was, I wouldn’t be able to do this and so would he.

That’s why my guess is he accepts me but doesn’t particularly like nor dislike me. Just what I feel for him.

Yeah, because whatever I feel automatically applies to him.

Nevertheless what I definitely know is that I am on high alert around him and he fucking knows it and uses it against me. Again a game he plays with me. Something to keep him entertained.

Maybe that’s what he feels towards me. He sees me as a little plaything to help him through the boring time in recovery.

So much for trying to trust him. Not even in my own weird scenarios do I give him the benefit of the doubt that he isn’t a sadistic ass.

Does he really need me to save his career or is it all a charade?

I can’t get this bile of a thought out of my head. He talked too much about my father, who is the coach of his archenemy team. I have the eerie feeling it is all connected to him and Satoru is lying to me. Lying that it has nothing to do with my father.

In the end I have to accept I’m not a special snowflake like Suguru made me seem like in our conversation. Satoru could have chosen hundreds of other girls with a similar reputation as mine without the ties to one of his archenemies.

And again, so much for trying to trust him.

Trust takes time, especially after everything Satoru and I have been through. He probably doesn’t trust me either.

Maybe in the long run I am in the wrong and Satoru has no interior motives, but as long as I am not a hundred percent certain, I will have my doubts.

Keep your fake boyfriend close, but your enemy closer, and Satoru is both for me.

After all I didn’t not hear the final whistle. The match is still on and so far we have the same score.

I fall in my bed and set up my new phone, putting in my old sim card and working through all my notifications I got over the last few days.

It is around 11pm when I suddenly get a text message. I was just looking through pinterest for some inspo pictures for tomorrow's photoshoot as a message pops up: Come over.

I instantly know it is Satorus number. Who else would want to talk to me?

Suguru maybe, but he would word it differently, even better call me.

No, I know it’s Satoru.

For a second I ask myself how he knows I have a new phone but he probably can see the debiting of his card on an app or something.

Why?, I plainly wrote him back after a few minutes of contemplating.

I fucked up, I get back and my heart stops for a second.

Fucked up? What?

This could mean a thousand things.

Satoru, what did you do?, I type faster than I have anticipated.

We didn’t even announce our fake relationship and he already messed up!

Fuck against all odds, I should have known a wildcard like him has no chance of bettering himself.

I go from shocked to angry as he simply answers me: Just come over and I will explain.

He doesn’t need to repeat it another time. I am on my feet in an instant, changing into one of my training skirts and pulling my snow boots on to keep my legs warm. I’m in too much of a hassle to even think about putting tights on. I would only rip them.

How could he manage to mess up already?

I stomp outside and use my phone light to navigate to the resort. It is cold but my anger keeps me warm as I sprint up the stairs onto the third floor. From Utahime I already know Satoru stays in room 301 so I don’t even ask him over text as I knock softly on his door. I’m on the edge of kicking it in, however I don’t want to disturb Shoko, Suguru and Ichiji, who are staying on this floor too.

After a few seconds Satoru opens the door and without an invitation I step in.

“What did you do?”, I walked inside his room, leaning at a wall across his bed and twitching my right leg nervously, waiting for him to finally talk.

But as always he takes his time, closing the door quietly and entering the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed with wide legs. His hair is damp. My guess is he must have showered a few minutes ago. He wears a compress shirt, which must have been a pain to put on after having freshly showered.

I try to only conduct that thought.

Not how unbelievable tight it fits around his muscles and flexes perfectly with every move he makes. Focusing on his pants doesn’t work either.

He wears grey sweatpants. That’s all I have to say.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say he does it to get a rise out of me. Nothing but entertainment for him.

I will not give him this victory. I cross my arms and for the first time in forever I manage to look in his eyes.

Anger wins over nervosity.

“I fucked up”, he just repeats what he told me over text.

I roll my eyes. “For fucks sake, what did you do?”, I want an answer now. No more beating around the bushes. A clear answer.

“I fucked up by believing in you”, his eyes wander from my exposed thighs to my eyes, looking sharp and challenging in a way.

“Eh?”, I mutter and frown, being flabbergasted. He just leans back on his elbows and stares at me. My anger leaves and my confusion mixes with the overall nervosity I feel when I am with him. I instantly can’t keep up the eye contact and look elsewhere. My mind starts to race. I can’t think of a reason why he should not believe in me.

I mean, yeah my doubts about him are good reasons but he doesn’t know about my inner thoughts.

Right?

Yes, right. He is not a mindreader, even though when he looks at me in this certain way I feel like he is.

I hate his piercing blue eyes. They freak me out so much. Of course I think he can read my mind. His type of eye color would be given to supernatural beings in movies. Beings able to read minds.

He laughs deeply and cuts me instantly out of my thoughts. I dare to look at him again. His focus is still completely on me and I clasp my arms firmer around me to calm myself down.

“I believed you would be able to pull this fake relationship off, but you can’t even look at me.”

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Fuck.

I take a deep breath and act nonchalant, giving him a skittish smile.

“You called me over in the middle of the night to tell me that? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. So what’s your problem?”, he counters.

“I have none”, I lie.

“Lie”, he immediately fires back.

“I was just frustrated with the whole thing, like come on. The photos looked so fabricated in the worst way.”

“Because they are”, he blurts and tilts his head to the side, analyzing me. God, I hate his glance on me.

“Duh, Sherlock, but it shouldn’t look like it”, I huff and turn my head to the side.

He holds himself more up from the bed and grins: “Well, and aren’t people in love supposed to be able to look at each other?”

I have no answer for that. I’m caught in a dilemma, again. He knows exactly how to get me and he enjoys it.

“So I will ask again, what’s your problem?”

He won’t let go of this theme until I answer him and too bad he seems to be able to read through all my lies.

I contemplate on trying another lie or just sprint out of his room, which would probably be easier than feeding him another fabrication.

However I can’t run away from him or lie my way through this fake relationship.

In the end I agreed on our deal and talking openly about my struggles is hard and even embarrassing, especially in front of Satoru, but I would rather want him to see me as an emotional fool than a wimp.

And I would be damned to be the one quitting this deal.

Letting him win, no.

Even when this shouldn’t be a competition, I can’t stop seeing everything between us as a spiel. Surely I need to accept the rules have changed and now we are playing as a unit and if I go against him, it will bite me in the ass as well.

Granted, I still don’t trust him and probably never fully will, but I need to be able to communicate with him.

“You”, I answer quickly and give him a side-eye. That’s all I can muster.

“Me?”

“You”, I say again without a further explanation.

“Care to elaborate”

Not really, but I have to. I lean against the wall and I am thankful for the dime light in this room. It’s just illuminated by the bedside lamp and the moonlight outside the window.

“Just everything”, I let it slip out and finally decided to be honest: “in the matter of a few hours we went from wanting to blackmail each other to faking a relationship. We lied, argued and I threw your lunch at you. We nearly even-”, I stop but Satoru ends my sentence: “fucked.”

“Correct.”, I bite my lip: “And I could ignore all this and try my best to move on, but you keep looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.”

I wanted to add his teasing words and touches too, but then I would have to admit this affects me and for now telling him I have a problem with the way he looks at me is enough to confess.

Small steps.

“I look at you like I look at everyone else”, he sits straight on the bed and has his arms crossed too. I don’t believe him, but he’s more stubborn than me. If he doesn’t admit it on his own, he will never, even when I would call him out on his bullshit.

If he doesn’t want to be honest, I will be dishonest too.

“Good, maybe I just have a general problem with your eyes.”

“My eyes are the problem now?”

“Yeah, your freaky blue eyes.”

He laughs deeply again and his white teeth beam in the light moonshine.

“This is a first one. People normally find my eyes quite beautiful.”

They are.

In a strange way.

But I would never tell him.

His intensely colored eyes aren’t the actual problem. I know it, he knows it. It is the way he looks at me with them. It would freak me out with everyone, but his special eyes make it even harder on me.

“Okay, got it”, he smoothly gets on his feet and walks over to a shelf. Rummaging in the dark through a section he pulls out a sweat headband. I watch him curiously as he slides it over his forehead and over his eyes.

“Problem solved.”

I start to laugh in disbelief.

“This doesn’t solve anything, Satoru. You can’t forever walk around blindfolded.”

He shakes his head and stands tall, looking in my direction.

“Not forever, just until you are comfortable around me”, he says and for whatever reason he actually seems serious.

“This is so stupid”, I mutter and get my full weight back on my legs, no longer leaning against the wall but my arms are still crossed and the frown never leaves my face.

“Stupid is that my girlfriend can’t even look in my eyes without getting flustered.”

“I’m not getting flustered.”

“Sure”, he buzzes and I pucker my lips at that.

He is right, but I would never tell him.

I hate it when he is right. Which he sadly often is.

“Are you looking at me?”, he asks as he steps towards his bed with confidence and sits down again. Weirdly enough he is good at being blindfolded.

“Right at your blindfold”, I answer and pronto earn a smirk from him.

“Good girl, we are making progress.”

I snort at his comment and tap my foot on the floor.

“What now?”, I ask and curse myself for getting a heat flush in my cheeks.

Satoru pats on the spot next to him on his bed. I do him the favor and sit down, his head immediately turning towards me as my weight dents the mattress. “Personally I would suggest that you let me fuck this issue out of your brain.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.”

“How did you know?”, I look at the sweatband. It is a thick material that completely covers his eyes. No way he can see me.

“I just know you”, he grins from ear to ear.

“Creep”, this comment even earned me a wider smile from him.

“Yeah, your suggestion is not happening”, I quickly add before he continues his shenanigans.

A big pout appears on his face, which gains him another eye roll from my side. For him to even suggest this out of funsies is moronic.

But what am I even expecting, he literally just blindfolded himself.

Stupid.

Wait.

I sit next to him and look in his face without getting nervous. It works? Weirdly enough.

God, I am pathetic. I’m really getting nervous from his stares. How did I ever win Gold medals when just his eyes make me uncomfortable? I had millions of eyes on me and it never bothered me.

I need to get a grip. Now.

“No, we will do something I never do when I am in bed with a woman”, he leans slightly forward into my space.

“Talk about ourselves and all this other stuff. That’s what you ladies like to do, right?”, another smirk.

“A creep and a sexist too”, this time I didn't roll my eyes. Satoru laughs heavily and lets his back fall flat onto the mattress. His arms over his head as he continues to chuckle with his shirt rolled up, exposing his lower stomach, which moves with his laughter. With all my willpower I maintain myself from looking more downwards.

Damn, these grey sweatpants. They should be illegal.

I would rather look into his eyes now than seeing this. This sight doesn’t just leave me nervous, it makes me think of the night in my car as I nearly said ‘fuck it’ and would have given in to him.

Regret is a cruel thing, especially when I see how everything after that night has turned out. Nevertheless having sex with him wouldn’t have solved anything.

Well, maybe I would be able to look into his eyes or let’s be real, I would be even more nervous around him.

“What’s your favorite color?”, he asks out of nowhere.

“Why?”, I ask instead.

“We are supposed to be a couple and barely know about each other”, he extends his arm and snips with his finger against my forehead: “and hopefully knowing me will help you be more comfortable around me. We are in love after all.”

I rub the spot on my forehead he managed to brush and wonder again how he was able to do that with the blindfold on. After a while I answered him, telling him my favorite color. He tells me his too, but I already know it. Suguru mentioned it today.

We start to talk. First about mundane things like favorite food and seasons, but we soon drift more down into past stories and our general life. Satoru lives in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, and as he told me the price for it, I nearly fainted. He has no siblings and comes from a family of real estate and financial moguls. They weren’t happy with his choice to become a professional Ice Hockey player but Satoru doesn’t care what they think. He never let them dictate his life.

Unlike me who was put into skates the moment I learned to walk. I envy his carefree nature. The entire time we talked he was always positive, witty and completely pleased with himself, like he never regretted one thing in his life. He laughs at his own jokes before he even utters one word and he is quick with his remarks.

He can keep up with me, which is something I appreciate in a person. Do I still think he is arrogant, self-centered and reckless? Yes, but I can see why.

If I had his life and success I would probably behave the same way. You reap what you sow and Satoru was born to be a living victory. Our conversation made me understand him a tad more.

After a while of talking, I lie down next to him, looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry for being difficult. I thought it would be easier for me”, I confess and feel him move closer next to me. His head turns and even with the blindfold on I can feel his glare on me. Slowly he spins in my direction and opens his arms. Instead of giving him the hug he seems to ask for, I only frown.

“Stop frowning and come here.”

How does he know?

With an annoyed sigh, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to his chest, slinging his arms around me. I slightly yelp at his action but let him be as he starts to slide his hand up my back to my neck, gently rubbing circles with his thumb there.

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. We are a team now, mate”

“Mate?”, I grunt in disbelief. All that is left for him to do now is to give me a fist bump and hand me a can of beer before burping in my face.

I can feel him smile into my hairline as he presses his lips against my forehead. Again, I let him. No protest, nothing.

With him it is always against all odds.

“So what are we? We aren’t really dating, we sadly aren’t fucking and I bet you wouldn’t consider me your friend.”

“We are-”, I pause for a good second and think.

“We are something in between that.”

He groans lightly, dipping his nose in my hair.

“Call me what you want, just not mate.”

As if he isn’t calling me princess every other sentence.

“I like partner”, I add and gain another snort from him.

“What, are we a law firm?”, I push lightly against his chest, just now registering that we are really close as I particularly lie in his arms.

“Okay, partner. I have one more question for you.”

“Mhm?”, I murmur, my eyes slightly closed as my hand stays flat on his pec.

“Didn’t I tell you how much your little skirts turn me on?”, my breath hitches in my throat.

“I-”, I start but never finish the sentence, heat glowing in my face. He leans down to hear me better. An act to make me more skittish. As if he doesn’t know exactly that I have no answer.

“Don’t act coy, you knew exactly what you were doing when you decided to pull up in that outfit.”

Did I? Maybe unconsciously.

I try to press myself up, but he doesn’t let me go and crushes my body more into his chest. With a swift motion he rolls us to the side and hovers with his elbows next to my shoulders over me. His face inches away from mine, still with his blindfold on. The only reason I am able to look at him.

“So let me ask you again, partner”, one of his arms travels down my side, stopping right at the end of my skirt.

“Please let me fuck this issue out of your brain”, his fingers play with the hem of it, softly touching my skin.

I don’t move, but my body isn’t frozen like it usually is when I am with him. This situation feels familiar, his fingers on my thighs feel familiar. It was like this when we were in my car. The same grip, the same warmth and the same rawness. I’m not sure if I can resist a second time.

Thankfully my brain is smarter than my body.

“This is a bad idea”, I whisper as his fingers move my skirt up my ass, exposing more of my skin.

“It’s not, trust me. It will help both of us.”

I laugh breathlessly at his answer and stop his hand from moving in between my thighs. I love this fucking blindfold. It really helps to withstand him, but only if I keep looking at his face. Once I get his body in my sight, I will cave in.

“How will it help you?”, I ask in a low tone. He doesn’t care about my hand holding his back from moving up. He slowly keeps going until he reaches the already soaked fabric of my panties.

"Contractual I’m only allowed to fuck you”, he answers and it certainly isn’t written like this in our contract but in a way he is right. We aren’t allowed to have sexual contact with other people, but we can.

I should have phrased it better.

“and sex really helps with the enormous, gigantic, unbearing pain in my leg.”

What a charming idiot.

Even in the dim light I see the feigned pout on his face and I would giggle at that if his fingers weren’t dipping slightly under my panties. Satoru doesn’t move his hand further in, he waits for my allowance.

“Is that so?”, I roll my hips lightly, gaining a low hiss from him.

“Yes.”, he snaps the hem of my panties against my skin, making me quiver.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?”, I blow into his ear, grazing his earlobe.

“Only if it works.”, he brushes his finger featherlight over my clothed pussy, securing a whiny moan from me.

“Where are the cameras? Want to film me a second time?”, I joke breathlessly, not able to tease him more.

“No cameras, just us. I’m serious.”, he presses his hand now on my abdomen, still waiting for my go.

My go?

In a clear moment I realize what I’m just doing here and all my self-doubts come crashing down on me like an avalanche. I wriggle quickly back, but not entirely out of his hold. Hastily I shake my head and he can feel the movement.

Something in his mimic switches. The playful pout is gone, making his face appear sharp and rough again.

“Use your words”, he demands: “just say no and I will never try anything with you again, I promise.”

Instead of giving him a clear answer to his question I stutter: “What if you don’t like it?”

His forehead is immediately covered in wrinkles as he sits up, his hand appearing from under my skirt to now push down on my right hip. I know this expression so I continue to stammer an explanation: “We are on a good path, I don’t want to risk it by getting intimate.”

“I get that, but why should I not like it?”

A logical question from his part, but a hard one to explain from my view.

By being trimmed to be perfect all the time on ice, the urge to become excellent in every other aspect of my life is present. Not only always looking put together, no, also always performing impeccably in everything I do. With that comes the weakness to care what other people think of me, as if to make sure my act is superb. Not only to the public, but also to people in my private life. I want to be considered perfect by them too. The fake relationship with Satoru wrench this well put together image I created of myself and it irks me. But I try to see it as a challenge to overcome it, not caring about what random people think of me. However this doesn’t apply to people I personally know.

And I know Satoru.

Knowing someone doesn’t instantly mean spending time with them.

Heck, I am no virgin. I went to the Olympics. After the competitions are over, we celebrate with meaningless hook-ups.

There is a reason the organizers put condoms in each room.

But the keynote is meaningless.

It was just one time and I have never seen them again.

I didn’t have the need to perform in such a situation.

Do I still care that they thought I was good? Sure.

But would I freak out if they thought I wasn’t? No.

Because I certainly didn’t care at these moments. They were often quick and fun and over. A good time where I was able to finally let my guard down and enjoy being just me.

I’m sure some of the guys didn’t even know in what segment I was competing, because I for sure didn’t know theres. In conclusion I never acted when it came to sex, because I only ever slept with a person one time.

With that being said, with Satoru it would be different. We will spend time together. A lot of time. He knows me. Dismally the real me.

I showed him my ugly side by being a competitive, stubborn bitch, who would have loved nothing more than to blackmail him out of my rink.

The almost sex in my car was a performance. I wanted to trick him, so I performed in a way I knew he would like. I act and act and act to come across as perfect, but I can’t do this when it comes to real sex.

I never got complaints, but the self-doubt of not knowing for sure if I will be good, is eating me alive. I know I am good on ice, because I train my ass off. Every jump and figure gives objective points. I can count it and get a score, but intimacy is subjective. I don’t know what he likes or dislikes and even the thought of not knowing what he is thinking drives me nuts. Satoru is already an enigma to me, but bringing in the mystery of intimacy?

No, thank you.

Worse is, he is an expert in hook-ups. At least if I believe the tabloids.

Screw that, I saw some of the conversations he had per DMs with some of his liaisons. He is an expert, unlike me.

I can’t keep up this act with him. I am afraid I will slip and perform badly and this will ruin everything between us.

In a god-awful form I would feel the need to be perfect for him, if we sleep together, because in my head he is perfect in this discipline. And now we are back at the core of all evil. My hatred for losing. Losing against him.

What if I like it and I am certain I will but he doesn’t? I would never overcome this foul pain for failing.

“I don’t know, it’s just a thought.”

When I’m with Satoru I mutate into an individual who’s unable to tell a good lie.

And when it comes down to this theme, I can only try to lie. I would never tell him my real thoughts. Not with something that defines my character so harshly. Being perfect.

“It’s a stupid thought”, he states and drops his knees to the ground, sitting in front of me, his upper body between my legs.

I know it is a stupid thought, but it is still lingering in my mind, not going anywhere.

“I promise I will love it.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can”, no hesitation in his answer. He truly believes it and this makes me even more insecure, even if he meant it to take my worries away.

“How?”

His huge hands are sitting on my hips, engulfing my entire frame as he looks up at me, still wearing the blindfold over his eyes. As he leans more forward his broad chest parts my legs even more.

“Because I actually like you.”

I can only roll my eyes at that statement.

“Yeah right, I gave you so many reasons to like me.”

He cackles and presses his cheek on the inside of my thigh, his hands pulling me closer to the edge of the bed towards him.

“Right, you did. You are an absolute cunt”, this bastard chuckles, slightly grazing his teeth along my soft skin. I don’t dare to breathe.

“and that’s why I like you. The beloved, little ice princess for everyone but to me you are a treacherous, filthy wench, who likes nothing more than to see her opponents slowly decay on the ground, while standing winning over them. Fuck baby, we have so much in common. So please, I’m begging you, let me fuck this insecurity out of your brain.”

My jaw is stiff and jammed together. I should yell at him for the way he described me.

But… indeed I give it to him, he is right about me. I’m not the pure Gold medalist I portrait myself to be.

Still his words don’t make any sense. Why would any person like me for being in his words a treacherous, filthy wench. Only psychos would find this real version better than the one I show off to the public.

Well, I called him a psycho before, maybe he really is one.

No… I think?

Eventually after going over his words over and over again, I have no other answer to this than: “Okay.”

And that is all he needs as he pulls me forward with such a force, my back falls flat on the bed. Even with the blindfold on, he knows exactly what he is doing. In a rush and equally eager motion he yanks my panties down my legs, not even being patient enough to completely pull them off my feet, as he arranges my legs on top of his shoulder.

With a hunger I have never experienced with another person, he leaps his mouth unto my pussy. His flat tongue moves up from the hole to my clit, making me jolt.

“This is not-”, before I can continue, he slaps me firmly against my ass, making me choke on my sentence.

“I decide how I will fuck your insecure, wet cunt, so shut up and enjoy.”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t keep quiet for long. I moan his name, not caring about the others on this floor. Satoru isn’t bothered by this, he lets me be as loud as I want to be.

Holding my hips tight, he is not letting me squirm away. Torture, everything is torture with him as he draws slow but steady circles with his tongue. I just know he likes to see me wince, even now when he is physically not able to do so with his blindfold. Feeling his devilish grin appear between my folds each time I whimper, makes me feel more and more like I’m losing. I talked about the debt I don’t want him to have over me.

Well, that is now more apparent than ever before. I will never be able to repay him for this pleasure. I’m a hundred percent convinced.

“I already love it”, he declares before filling me up with two of his digits. I grab into his oh so soft and damp hair, wanting to feel him more. His fingers move in rhythm with his tongue. In and out, slowly like he wants me to suffer. Which I do.

He finds the right spot every time his fingers are back into me. I swear to God he knows it, by the way he can feel my inside starting to clamp around his insanely long fingers.

But he mocks, even ridicules me by not letting me come to my high. I’m so embarrassingly close to begging him.

To please just let me cum. To please just let me finally lose, so I accept it sooner that I will be in his debt forever.

Luckily he picks up his speed once I clasp my legs around his face, resting my heels on his hard shoulders.

“So perfect for me”, he chuffs and every little insecurities in felt before melted right away at his words.

I won’t tell him I’m close, I just want to cum without him dragging it out over and over again.

And he will if he knows.

Yet, I’m not good at keeping my closeness hidden as I grind absolutely feral and needy against his tongue, shifting my hips hastily up and down. Just chasing my own peak, not caring for a second what Satoru thinks, oddly enough.

But I forgot he has done this rodeo more than enough to read a woman's body. Right as I can almost taste the pinnacle of my orgasm, he stops and bites harsh on my inner thigh. I jerk up, completely out of breath and mad.

Oh, so mad.

Before I have the chance to throw ruthless cusses at him, he softly kisses the spot and pushes my legs off him, tossing me downright to the side. He stands up towering over my frame on the bed.

“What are you doing?”, I ask with teary eyes in between rapid breaths.

“Did you forget? We are a team now and for our first play I want us to cum together.”

Still I don’t know how he knows exactly where which part of my body is, but he grab my jaw harshly and snickers: “I know how fucking much you love a fair game.”

His thick thumb presses against my lips and I let it in. A mistake. He pushes it down my tongue, trying to gag me by moving it more and more down my throat. First I can handle it, sucking on it. But Satoru is never satisfied, he always seems to take it to the extreme as he holds my throat with other hand in place, lightly choking me from the outside too. I bite down on it as I can’t take it anymore, finally being able to breathe again as I gasp for air.

“If you ever do this when my cock is in it, you will regret it.”

Spit is traveling down my chin as I look up at him. His face is turned to mine and if he didn’t have the blindfold on his agonizing eyes would look right at me.

“Want to give it a try?”, I counter in a challenging way and instantly hate myself for it. Satoru is unpredictable and I’m not in the state to deal with his dick down my throat when he is sullen.

After a few long, gnawing seconds he smirks at me and I allow myself to fill my lungs with air again.

“Another time gladly”, he just announces before stepping back and gripping the rim of his pants. Satoru hasn’t even seen my naked body, but I can see the rock hard outline on the fabric. I gulp.

“But for today I have already told you my plan.”

His pants are down and he’s not wearing boxers. I knew it from the almost sex in my car that he is huge, but seeing his cock so close in front of my very sight, I whiz down the bed. Satoru notices instantly and grabs my ankle.

“Satoru, I will die”, I share my unfiltered thoughts with him. I know confessing this will feed his ego well, but I don’t care.

“No one has ever died”, he wipes over his mouth, which glistens with my juice and uses it to pump his colossal cock with his other hand a few times and adds with a wide grin: “so far.”

It is way longer than the average, even with both my hands I wouldn’t be able to completely cover it. The head is soft pink which sticks out against his pale skin and is already dripping precum. His girth is massive and overall slightly curved to the left. Mother nature really has her favorites and she decided to bless Satoru more than everyone I have ever encountered.

“Not funny”, I murmur with a dry mouth as he pulls me towards him again, leaning over me.

“I thought you like challenges.”

“I’m serious.”, and I’m being serious.

He sighs as he slowly reaches out to my face and collects the drool I choked out before. Holding out his flat palm to me, he doesn’t even need to say a word for me to know what he wants me to do. I still hesitate.

“Never took you as a quitter”, oh, this fucking asshole.

He knows exactly how to rile me up.

I spit in his hand, drawing a little smile out of his focused face as he coats his length with it.

With his range I will need all the help I can get, even when my pussy is right now more wet than she ever was.

Casually he leans on top of me, upholds his own weight with his left arm, so he doesn’t crush me as his right hand aligns the tip of his cock with my hole. I stop squirming and let him gradually insert his tip in. I whine into his shoulder, biting down on his neck as my hands claw into his back. He gasps heavily and shows mercy by giving me a few seconds to accommodate the sensation.

The only fucking plot twist is, I never truly accommodate to it. It feels like he is splitting me open, leaving me raw and wounded. Once he starts to roll his hips, I see stars and cry into the crook of his neck.

“Psht, my angel, trust me, it will be fine”, he holds my head in his large hand, wiping a tear off my cheek: “I was made for you and you were made for me.”

I can’t even register his lovely words as all my cells are entirely focused on his dick entering me.

He stops the movement of his hips for a second to kiss my temple, before slowly starting to move again after I adjusted myself a bit. I feel more than full, ready to break into two. He is stretching me completely out.

After what felt like forever, he is fully tucked in. At this intensity all I’m able to do is keep my mouth open and try to breathe so I’m not fainting. He was right, he can fuck the insecurity out of me, because my brain is not able to think in this state. Every cell is targeting what Satoru is doing to me.

Gently he takes my hand and guides it down from my chest to my abdomen, letting me palm his bulge inside of me. I can sense it twitching and pulsating inside of me. I whimper.

“See, you didn’t die”, he tries to joke. I would like to think that he does this to smoothen my angst, but he probably means it in a tantalizing way.

“Ready?”, he asks and the rational part of me screams No! but I want to, no, I need him to move.

“Mhm”, I weep and wrap my legs around his waist, ready to let him in even deeper.

“Good”, he quickly purrs and I should have known that he won’t hold back. Slipping out of me, he barges into me again in a rough and provoking manner. Completely out and back completely in. My entire body feels equally nothing and everything all at once. I’m wholly at his mercy as he picks up the speed, pulling one of my legs up his chest unto his shoulder to penetrate me even further. Babbling his name and incoherent words all together, he puts his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. I sink my teeth into his palm and grab the sheets, hoping my body will get used to it, but it never does. Unable to form a thought, just getting dumbfucked for what felt like hours.

Satoru doesn’t seem to be out of breath, while I get brain fog and grasp that not even my training for the Olympics made me feel this exhausted.

But I don’t want this to stop, it’s painfully good and he hits the right stop each time, bringing me closer and closer but I try my best to suppress the coil forming in my insides that wants to finally be released. He wants us to cum together and he’s not there yet. My hands wander from his back to his chest under his compressed shirt, that clings even more to his body now with all the sweat and heat coating it. Once I touch his chest to caress his solid muscles and he starts to groan gravely into my ear, I can’t take it any more.

“Please, I can’t ‘ake it no more”, I sob: “Allow me to cum, please.”

He only chuckles intensely at my statement, letting his lower body crush more into mine as I feel the waves of mocking laughter.

“I said together”, he is stern again, making it clear that there is no way around. Right now I want to please him more than anything in this world, so I listen and be good.

Picking up his pace again, I notice his thrusts getting sloppier, his groans becoming lower and sharper.

“Now, angel. For me”, and I do as he says as he dives into me one last time, painting my walls with his warm cum. My eyes roll back into my head as I come undone. After a few seconds of breathing heavily with closed eyes I open them again and see him staring at me.

No blindfold.

How could I ever find those eyes scary?

“So beautiful”, at first I thought I said it outloud, but these are Satorus words.

I push his sweaty hair back and kiss him. For what we just did, this kiss feels way too innocent, but it is the ideal ending. Shyly letting my fingers linger against his jaw, he kisses me a second time with more force but still nothing compared to the dirty kisses we shared in my car. Resting his forehead against mine, he pants lightly before giving me his usual wide flirtatious smile.

“Did it work?”

I still lie under his huge body, mouth slightly open and my mind too blown to register what he wants from me.

I just let out a confused noise, which scored me one of his lighthearted grunts. He strokes his nose alongside mine, not breaking eye contact.

“Fucking your insecurities away?”

“Obviously”, I whisper, his eyes being the only things in my field of view. He hovers himself up and glides out of me, making me miss him immediately.

I watch him putting his pants back on as I just lie there, unable to move. For a minute I am sure he broke something in me because I can’t maneuver my limbs.

“No need to thank me”, he discloses with a wide smirk as he pulls my panties up and my skirt down to cover me. I’m actually glad that he isn’t cleaning me up or inviting me to take a bath in his room. I will do this on my own. The kisses were already on the edge of being too romantic. Can’t risk more.

“I wasn’t planning to”, I snap back, becoming defensive again as I lift myself up, feeling the soreness in my legs and core. As I manage to stand up with wobbly legs, Satoru watches me with a fat grin.

“Will you be able to be on the ice tomorrow for the photos?”

I glared daggers at him for this mischievous tone.

“I had tougher challenges.”

“I should have really filmed this, just so I could repeat the part where you sobbed because you thought my dick would kill you.”

Asshole.

I show him my middle finger and step past him, concentrating on keeping my steps steady. I walk to the door and turn one last time around, seeing him leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

“This was a one time thing”, I declare, but not really believing myself either once I uttered it.

“Sure”, he replies with his mouth twitching slightly upwards. I know he is holding a simper back.

“I’m serious.”

“And I said sure.”

I roll my eyes and open the door.

“No word to anyone”, I demand and slam the door behind me way too loudly for the time of the day.

I hush down the stairs and stroll as fast as my aching legs allow me to home. His cum is already leaking out of me as I step under the shower. I regretted not fucking him in my car and now I wish I could say the regret I felt wasn’t worth it. I should regret sleeping with him, but I don’t.

It was as good as winning feels like, at certain times even better.

But I was right. It has to be a one time thing. He already cracked my body open, no need for him to get closer by doing the same to my mind.

I let him in today. Not just in me, I mean my inner thoughts. I laid my self-doubts out like an open book while he still hasn’t shown me a bit of a vulnerable side.

He gained the lead this night, but I’m on his heels. A second time I won’t let myself be so frail and delicate in front of him.

Never again.

The next day I wake up with throbbing legs and a raw feeling in my bottom line. I swallow two ibuprofen pills and wait for them to hit, so I can at least attempt to put my stockings on. I opt for a light grey set. No skirt, a leggings this time. I won’t be able to stand his teasing today.

I arrive at the rink on time. Suguru is talking with Shoko as I step past them on the tribune. I wave them hello and they both smile at me before falling back into their conversation. I fall heavy on a seat and begin to loosen the ties of my skates, so I can get them on. The painkillers help but everything still feels tender and bruised. Satoru is on the ice already with Mei Mei. Once he notices me, he glides over the ice towards the tribune, ignoring Mei Meis fierce instructions. With his signature smile he walks over to me.

“Hi”, he says before looking me up and down.

“Hi”, I mumble back, able to look into his eyes.

“No skirt?”

“No skirt.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want a certain person to enjoy himself too much.”

He snickers and takes my skates out of my hands.

“Can you walk?”

“No, I flew here”, I roll my eyes: “Of course I can.” barely

“Feisty today”, he catches my legs and gently guides my foot into the skates. He is so enamored in his actions that he doesn’t notice me gloom over his sudden affectionate side.

“How are you?”, I ask him to break the silence as he ties my skate. He quickly looks up at me and tilts his head like he would have never imagined me asking him such a question.

“Good, but I’m pretty sure Mei Mei is actively trying to kill me with this training”, his hair is already sticky again from all the sweat and his pale cheeks are rosy.

God, is he beautiful.

I shake myself in disbelief after that thought.

“But thanks to a certain person the pain in my leg is bearable”, he grins down as he slips me on my second skate.

“So, you and the certain person are even?”

He huffs and looks up at me after tying my second skate.

“Not at all, I still expect a ‘thank you’ card and chocolates.”

“Idiot”, I snarl, but end up smiling. He still kneels in front of me like he did yesterday, but this time it feels lighter, better. Like we made a huge step into the right direction for our deal to work.

“By the way, you did great yesterday, partner”, he slaps my leg a couple of times.

I give him a dirty look and complain instantly: “You are so corny, it is unbelievable.”

Before he can counter something, probably something even more corny, Suguru shouts from a few feet away: “I got the photo!”

We turn our heads confused at his direction as he walks over to us with his phone. He shows us a picture he just took from us. Satoru with his hand on my lower leg, grinning up at me and me smiling down at him.

A real smile. Filled with affection.

“I like it”, Satoru states, getting back on his legs. Both men are now looking at me for approval. I nod, rambling: “it’s really good”, before Mei Mei screams at Satoru to go back on the ice and Suguru tells me he will send me the picture. I just nod again, ignoring what happens around me.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Suguru asks me this question way too often and whenever he does, I am never alright.

The way I smiled at Satoru in this picture.

Ayo I’m fucked.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #enemies to lovers #figure skating #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #ice hockey #satoru gojo

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treacheryinblue · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 1/?

Word Count: 8.5k

Masterlist

A Noah Sebastian x OC x Nicholas Ruffilo Series

× Summary: In the not so distant future, there's only Above and Below ― a "castle" that reaches the sky and the gritty underbelly that's looked down upon ( both literally and metaphorically ). The guys are recruited to carry out the task of taking down this power with the assistance of Scarlett: a confident and seductive, yet mysterious, force that may be closer to the enemy than what she lets on. Themes: dystopian, cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, etc.

× Warnings!: Things get smutty. Language. Death - both spoken of and written. Violence. Anti-government. Broody Noah. Precious baby angel Nicholas. A girl who can't choose. Drinking, drugs, etc. Unreliable narrator? Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings if there's anything additional.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) Just going to be honest straight up ― if you don't like world building, then you may not like this. ⍨ ( 2 ) This chapter is more Nick centered because he deserves some recognition on my page. ( 3 ) Feedback of any kind is welcomed. Happy reading! ❤

Known affectionately as Lost Angeles, the last true and vast surviving city.

Made up of Heaven and Hell, most commonly referred to as Above and Below.

Why? Because, well, the latter was quite a ways down from the glimmering mega tower that you either hated with a passion, or desperately wanted to become a part of.

Although, anyone with at least two working brain cells could see that Heaven was a cruel and sadistic facade ran by a dictator by the name of Silver. Its main purpose being to inflict fear upon those belonging to Below; a way to control them, a warning they were always forced to see no matter where they stood within the decaying city.

This is why Noah chose to conduct the majority of his doings even further down, right in the underground of Below.

“You want us to what?”

A fit of laughter erupted from him, the three men standing a bit further back following suit with amusement of their own.

“You've got to be fucking joking.”

The older man’s face reddened with anger, his pudgy fingers rapping against the table top that separated him from them. This man in reference was Ulrik, a well known con man and loan shark that had a way of getting things done. Did you have a messy job you needed performed to completion? Ulrik was your guy, but always for a hefty price.

This is how Noah knew he had to be truly desperate if he was outsourcing his jobs now. Or maybe he just needed to find someone stupid enough to agree to the suicide mission.

“I was being nice by asking. Did you forget that you owe me a favor?”

A heavy sigh was then expelled, his gloved hand lifting to rub his chin from over the black ski mask that covered the entirety of his head. It's the same mask the other guys wore as well, the one thing keeping their identities secret.

It wasn't an odd thing to see. People of Below were known to wear masks - some more simple, others terribly intricate - solely because it kept them safe from the debris and dust that was constantly floating through the air. Wearing them inside was a little less popular.

“I'll even make it easier for you,” Ulrik continued with a toothy grin that was riddled with bits of gold. “There's a girl-”

“A girl?” Noah repeated, brows raised beneath the mask.

“Yes, a girl. She can help you get in and out of the Tower. She's smart. Does work for me sometimes.”

Another laugh was pulled from him, followed by a roll of his eyes. Noah leaned back casually in his chair, though his hands remained clasped atop the table. He was staring the man down, silently daring him to feed him bullshit one more time.

“Cut the shit, ‘Rik. Everyone knows you don't just enter the Tower and then live to tell the tale when you don't belong there. People go up, but they never come down.”

Ulrik’s grin lingered, becoming more and more smug by the second.

“Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong. She has gone both up and down.”

× × ×

Seven wasn’t exactly where he was expecting to end up that night. He stared up at the neon-lit business front, flashing signs indicating the purchase of companionship, while others promised music and dancing. He had passed by the building many times, but never stepped foot inside. Tales of the happenings inside ran rampant, though. From what he gathered, it wasn't a place for the faint of heart.

“I can't believe you agreed to this shit.”

Noah glanced over to Nicholas as he took a deep drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. The motion was followed with a shrug, his expression remaining blank.

“I agreed to us talking to the girl. I never agreed to us taking the job.”

“When it comes to Ulrik, you may as well have signed our lives away.”

That could've possibly been true, but Noah was going to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe nothing would come of this visit. Maybe he would let them turn the job down. Maybe they'd laugh it off together. Or maybe all of them would end up with their tongues cut out.

Noah didn't say anything else before taking long strides up to the building, Nick trailing begrudgingly behind him. Despite the masks still covering their faces, the rather large and buff man at the door nodded them in. If they looked like buyers, then there was no issue.

…now he wasn't so sure what that said about them.

Inside of Seven was dark, the only source of light coming from the red and blue LEDs sporadically placed around. It was cleaner than he was expecting, but there was still a sharp scent in the air that led him to believe strong cleaning products were used on the regular. Noah didn't want to think about what they could possibly be cleaning in depth so often.

“Hey there, handsome.” A woman cooed almost as soon as they walked into the main area, her hand grazing along his chest as she sauntered by. She didn't pause to entice them in, though. Probably because she could sense their lack of engagement due to his skill of avoiding eye contact, and basically acting like she wasn't there to begin with.

Stepping deeper in, Noah was on high alert. He looked to every corner, studied every face, and noted every exit that could be seen. Never know when you'd have to make a quick getaway.

The music playing throughout had a deep bass to it; one of those dark wave tracks that was supposed to sound sexy, but it only bored him. Dolled up women were seen with every sweep of his gaze, as well as desperate men looking for someone to force their fantasies on. A few of the women were encased in large metal cages, their bodies moving rhythmically to the songs playing.

Yeah, this place definitely screamed ‘Below’. It was gritty and filthy - in the kinky sort of way. Depraved was possibly a better word for it.

“Hey,” Noah called out to a man who stood to the side with his hands clasped in front of him. He was obviously security, so hopefully that meant he could point them in the right direction.

“We’re looking for a girl that goes by Scarlett. You know where we can find her?”

Macho security man took one look at them and shook his head.

“Ah, come on!” Noah grinned beneath the mask with his attempt at being inviting. “A friend of mine said she was the best. I just want to try her out for myself.”

Fuck - how badly he wanted to gag and cringe at his own words.

“If you don't know which girl she is, then she isn't the girl for you. Now fuck off.”

Noah figured it was best to not argue with security, so he took a few steps back and then turned to Nick. “The hospitality here is something to be desired.”

“Why don't we just take a look around? Maybe one of the other girls will point her out.”

Just as Noah was about to agree, a sweet voice cut through the atrocious music that was still thumping ridiculously loud through the club.

“Did you say Scarlett?”

Both him and Nick simultaneously turned towards the voice, only to see that it belonged to a girl in one of the cages. Her manicured fingers gripped the bars as she kneeled down to their level, eyes bouncing back and forth between them both.

“You know her?”

The girl's fair shoulders gave a shrug, though she smiled when she briefly locked her gaze with his.

“Everyone knows Scarlett.”

The girl was running a hand up and down along one of the bars that separated them. Noah assumed this was a way to entice the desperate men in, leading them to think of her hand wrapped around their unsavory dicks and not the metal.

“Hi, pretty eyes.” Her focus was now on Nick, which didn't surprise him. Even with the masks, he was sure Nick appeared nicer than he did. Someone that would be easier to talk to. Easier to butter up.

Leaning in closer to the bars, her hands spread across to widen her grip, showcasing her cleavage that was popping out from the skimpy top she wore. Noah knew the games, and he knew Nick did too, but that wasn't going to stop his friend from falling for it. Hard.

“What will it take for you to introduce us to her?”

The girl smirked, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she thought.

“Buy a private room for an hour. Ask specifically for number thirteen.” She tore her gaze from Nick to look over to him, obviously showing no shame in the way her eyes raked up and down his tall stature. “I'll make sure she's there.”

With that, she stood up to her full height and made a motion to the side which prompted someone to unlock the cage.

“Go on,” she smiled at them before she could exit, shooing them away to a cashier.

“Ulrik better fucking reimburse us for this.” Noah grumbled while already beginning to pull the cash from his pockets.

× × ×

Room thirteen was on the second floor and sat at the very end of the hall. He assumed this was the most private of all the rooms, merely from the location alone. While making their way to it with the key clutched in his grasp, he could hear all the unpleasant things happening beyond the other doors they passed. Most sounded like noises of enjoyment but there were some that reminded him of pure torture. Those were the ones he didn't want to think too hard about. They had a task at hand, and worrying about what 'paying customers’ did was not it.

As they entered the room, all outside noises suddenly stopped upon closing the door. That sure was interesting. He shook his head, cautious steps then being taken further into the room. It was reminiscent of a hotel room, but not as luxurious. There was a bed, a dresser, and a darkened doorway which he assumed led to a bathroom.

“This is fucked,” he murmured with a glance to Nick who had just plopped down into a chair that sat in the corner.

“Do we know anyone that comes to these sorts of places?”

Noah chuckled, his head ducking a bit in an attempt to see if he could inspect behind the mirror attached to the dresser. It was easy to assume that they were being watched and listened to.

“I doubt it, unless you mean know like how we know Ulrik. My guess is he's a big spender here.”

A gloved hand ran along the seam of the mirror pressed to the wall, looking it up and down suspiciously. Did each room have a camera? Or just some perverted guy sitting behind a two way mirror monitoring their doings? Either way, he fucking hated the feeling of being watched.

“What are you doing?”

Well, that voice surely didn't belong to Nick.

His eyes flickered up to the door of the room that was being closed, the same girl from the cage standing in the entryway.

“There's a reason why I told you guys to request this room. No cameras. No mics.”

There was something different about the girl now - other than the fact that she had covered herself in a black silk robe that hit the top of her thighs. Was it that her voice wasn't as sweet? Her eyes a little more piercing? Or had she just completely dropped the act now that they were behind closed doors?

“Where's Scarlett?” Noah ignored her initial question, instead choosing to respond with one of his own. He didn't have the time or patience to play this game.

The girl arched a brow, her eyes brightening with a hint of amusement. She walked by where he stood, then bent at the waist when she was at the end of the dresser. From the bottom drawer she produced an unlabeled bottle, as well as three glasses which she placed atop the dresser.

“I think she is Scarlett…” Nick spoke up, still seated.

With a widening grin, the girl put her fingertip to her nose and looked back to Nick from over her shoulder, the same finger shifting to point his way. “Good job, pretty eyes. I'm glad at least one of you can put a two-piece puzzle together.”

A glass of amber liquid was extended to him, which he had no choice but to take upon her forcing it to his chest. He noted that she was much more gentle when offering an identical drink to Nick, the other being kept for herself.

“Before anything else is said, I'm going to need you guys to take the masks off.”

Noah immediately shook his head. “That's not happening.”

An intense look was sent his way from Scarlett. Her hand was on her hip, heel-clad feet carrying her closer to him.

“Either you take off the masks or we're done here.”

SCARLETT

“Well?” Her brows quirked as she stepped around the tall one, slow motions being taken closer to the one with the clear blue-grey eyes. She was already more fond of him.

“Just do it,” he exhaled, quickly pulling his mask off as if he was ripping a band-aid free in one swift motion.

Mumbles of aggravation came from the tall one, but she knew he had done the same based on the sounds of shuffling around and the way his mask was then tossed to the edge of the bed. When she glanced back to him, he was working his fingers through his hair, but that wasn't what caught her attention

“Hold on…you guys are Entertainers?” Scarlett’s eyes went wide with excitement, her sights going back and forth between the two of them again. The guys said nothing, though they shared a silent look with each other that had her interest piqued.

“Ulrik failed to mention that when he told me I'd have visitors.”

“That's because Ulrik doesn't know. That's also how it's going to stay, got it?”

Entertainers were some of the most important people, both Above and Below. They had a way of controlling the masses and getting messages out, especially these specific Entertainers she was currently in the company of. If anyone was to know they were in cahoots with someone of the likes of Ulrik, they would probably disappear in a snap.

“Are you always so feisty?” Scarlett shook her head as she brought her drink to her lips.

“Since you recognize us, does that mean you've seen our shows?”

Nodding, she reached over to lightly drag her fingertip along the seated one’s jaw. His bright eyes lifted to meet with hers and she instantly graced him with a sweet smile.

“A few times, actually. Let's just say…I'm all about your scene.”

The scene she spoke of being one that was kept hush hush, all because of their leadership in the powers that wanted to overthrow Above. Not everyone was privy to this information, though. To be a part of it meant sure death.

“Listen, Scarlett, that's not why we're here. Ulrik told us to come talk to you, see what you could do to help us with this job he has, so we can decide if we're going to take it or not.”

“Oh, honey, if you're here talking to me then you've already taken the job.”

Although she was addressing the tall one on the opposite side of the room, her sights remained set on this sweeter one she had taken much more of a liking to.

“Do you think you just happened to run into me by chance downstairs? No. I knew you were coming, that's why I was on the floor to begin with. Just waiting for the guys with an ‘air of arrogance' to arrive.”

Scarlett looked back to the tall guy, her eyes drinking him in again. She was well aware of the perplexed expression he wore as he studied her, obviously trying to figure her out. Jokes on him, because he would never be able to.

“You two have names?”

“Nicholas,” her favorite almost immediately revealed. “Nick.”

“Fucking seriously?” The unknown guy hissed, now looking at him in disbelief. “You're just going to drop your name like that all because you're hypnotized by her tits?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“My eyes are pretty nice too, but don't get your panties in a twist. You need something from me, correct? So, how can you trust me with that if you don't even trust me with your name?”

This got him to shut up for a second because he knew she was right. Something told her that he didn't like being the one who wasn't. His arrogant demeanor wasn't exactly her favorite quality about him, but she was going to let it slide this time. All because of her own curiosities.

“Noah,” he finally answered after a long pause of silence had settled between them.

“Can we just cut to the chase? No more of your seductive cage dancer bullshit. We bought the room - you - to talk, not to play little games.”

Scarlett retracted her touch from Nick, her body language immediately shifting to defensive mode. She was finding it harder and harder to play nice when it came to this Noah jackass.

“Not that it's any of your business but I'm not a cage dancer and I'm not for sale.” Her eyes narrowed at him in a silent warning, though she still found her way in front of him despite how badly she wanted to drop him on his ass.

“That know-it-all attitude of yours is going to leave you dead one day. So if I were you, I'd compose myself a little more, especially when you're asking someone for help.”

She could tell that he wanted to say something else, but she continued before he could.

“Sit down and shut up. I don't want to hear another peep from you until I say. I'll be directing my attention and questions to Nick.”

Scarlett motioned to him, her smile returning as she did. She was going to show Noah that you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so maybe he could learn a lesson or two to take home with him to resonate on.

“Now, Nicky, why don't you tell me about this job Ulrik has so kindly signed you up for?” She sat on the edge of the bed closest to the chair he remained perched in. Her back was straight, one leg crossed over the other, and her focus was now solely on him.

Nick took in a deep breath before tilting his head back to down what remained of the liquor in his glass. He grimaced slightly, just enough to bring a genuine smile to her lips at the sight.

“He wants us to break into the Tower.”

Scarlett slowly nodded since she had already gathered as much. “Is…that it?”

“No…” Nick shook his head. “Once in the Tower, he wants us to cut the power to it permanently and then kill Silver.”

It felt as if someone had punched her right in the gut, that's how strong the shock was when she heard his words. Had Ulrik lost his goddamn mind?

“He wants you to kill Silver? President Silver? The man who runs Silver Life Industries, also known as the company that provides every-fucking-thing we lay our eyes on?”

The destruction included.

Nick could only nod and when she glanced back at Noah, he had his elbows propped up on his knees with the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. It was obvious that they knew how ridiculous it sounded. Not to mention how dangerous it was. Hell, this was the only room in Seven not bugged and even she started feeling nervous that someone could hear them.

“Well…shit.”

“Can you help us or not?”

Scarlett wanted to scold Noah for speaking before she allowed him to, but with the situation that was just dropped into her lap, she no longer cared about his manners.

“I mean…yeah, I can get you guys into the Tower, but you have to survive to actually make it out too.”

“Perfect. All we needed to know.” Noah dropped his hands to his knees in a slap then stood from the opposite corner of the bed he had claimed. The mask was tugged back over his face and adjusted properly, thus signaling to Nick that it was time for them to go.

“How do we get in touch with you?” Nick questioned after mimicking Noah's motions, both of their identities now concealed.

Scarlett smiled before opening the door, a rush of mixed noises immediately assaulting their ears.

“I'll find you.”

× × ×

And find them she did, although nearly a week later.

It definitely wasn't her fastest work, but a lot had been on her mind since their little meeting at Seven. Not to mention the guys had done a pretty good job at not leaving much of a trace of themselves in the outside world. Unless you knew the right people to talk to, which she did.

Scarlett had been a little nervous when taking the rickety elevator down to the lower level of the apartment building they resided in. It's where she had been told they spent most of their time because it was secluded and away from the prying eyes and ears of those watching from Above.

Thinking back on it now, maybe she should've announced herself before waltzing into their glorified man cave. This thought came to her as she stepped off the death trap of an elevator, only to immediately feel the cool barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her head.

“Who the fuck are you?”

When she didn't answer right away, the gun was cocked as a final warning. The sound alone sent a chill down her spine, but she still released a huff as if annoyed by the hold up.

“Are all of you this paranoid?”

The gun was nudged against her head, his prior question silently being asked again.

“Scarlett,” she then answered, though the gun remained firm in place.

“Don't know a Scarlett.”

“And I don't know why I'm being held at gunpoint, yet here we are. Both of us confused.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jolly! Gun down!”

There was a rush from behind her and then the loaded weapon was no longer pressed to her head, but instead decocked and set aside based on what sounds she could pick up.

Bickering began to unfold, something about them explaining to him who she was a few days ago, him claiming he didn't remember, then a few soothing phrases and words were exchanged to calm the trigger happy man down.

Scarlett glanced back during the altercation, seeing that it was Nick lightly touching the guy's shoulder as another unknown male stood a bit off to the side. Noah was nowhere to be seen but that was okay. She was only popping by to show her face and obviously let it be known that they weren't super hard to track down.

“I'll send a carrier pigeon next time telling you guys I'm stopping by,” she joked once Nick was making his way over to her. “Maybe avoid a bloodbath.”

“I would say ‘sorry’ for him…but you are the one intruding. How the hell did you get past the locks, by the way?”

For a moment she was confused by his question, but then remembered the coded pin pads she had easily bypassed to even open the elevator doors. “Oh,” she waved the confusion off, laughing. “It wasn't exactly the hardest of programs to crack. You guys should probably get someone better to handle that for you.”

Nick squinted at her, his smile wavering. “I set those locks…”

Damn. She couldn't remember the last time she had truly been embarrassed, but this was definitely going to remain fresh in her mind for a while.

“Right…well…I'll have to give you some pointers.”

“What are you doing here?”

Scarlett smiled at his sudden change of topic. She found herself taking a slight step closer to him, pleased to be able to clearly see his eyes without dim or harsh lights drowning out the color.

“Not happy to see me, Nicky?”

Nick took in a deep breath, those eyes of his trailing her up and down unabashedly. “No…no…seeing you has definitely been a highlight…”

Grinning, she reached out to lightly touch his cheek, just before her eyes shifted to the guys lingering not far back.

“Are you going to introduce me?”

“Shit, right.” Nick cleared his throat, his body turning so he could carry himself closer to his friends. While Scarlett did recognize them from the shows she had attended, it was still best that he initiated the exchange of their names.

Did she already know them? Maybe.

“Scarlett, this is Jolly, and I promise he isn't as quick to pull the trigger as you may think.”

“Clearly, since I'm still alive,” she taunted.

“And this strapping young man is also Nick, but we call him Folio. So, yeah…this is Scarlett, the girl Ulrik told us about.”

Jolly scoffed as he examined her with what appeared to be great frustration.

“This little sparkle fairy is supposed to be the one helping us? My foot is bigger than her!”

“Sparkle fairy?” She repeated with a look of distaste for the term.

“I'm sure my foot can cause more damage too!”

Now this caused her eyes to narrow, jaw setting into a firm clench. What is it with men and their need to always underestimate her? Most of the time it didn't bother her too much because it typically worked out in her favor when they did, but sometimes - like now - it truly pissed her off. Here she was, offering her services and also her time, and it was unappreciated.

“Do you want to test that theory out? I have no issues with shattering every bone in your foot with my own goddamn heels.”

Jolly appeared taken back for a moment, but a smile then pulled at his lips and he was wagging his finger in her direction. “Never mind. I like her.”

“Same…but she's a little scary…” Folio murmured under his breath as he and Jolly led the group to a sitting area.

“Just some knowledge to place upon you,” Nick called out to Folio while dropping his hand to his shoulder. “All women are scary.”

This made her smile, another slight laugh leaving her. “I always knew you were the smart one.”

A few more steps and they were within an area that held mismatched chairs, rugs, and other random decor pieces. It was obvious that the guys grabbed whatever they could that was still in decent condition, and she didn't blame them. Sometimes it was the simple things that were hard to come by nowadays.

“No Noah?” She questioned as she dropped her bag onto one of the random chairs, this one being a deep green color.

“He said he was going down to the corner store but that was…” Nick glanced at the others, “maybe about an hour ago.”

“Well, I guess it's a good thing this was more a social call than actual planning. Pretty much just needed to see what - and who - I'd be working with.” Her eyes drifted between all three of them, lips pursed as she sized them up. Scarlett had a knack for reading people. Very rarely was she incorrect in her assumptions.

The point of her nail angled towards Jolly, slowly nodding. “I'm guessing you're the muscle, yeah? Good with weapons, intimidating, a pretty decent shot.”

Scarlett didn't give them a chance to respond before she was moving on to the next. Her focus fell to Nick, immediately giving him a sweet smile as she had done consistently now.

“The kind of guy that knows his way around tech…probably the smartest one in the room but doesn't like to show it…voice of reason.”

Their eyes remained locked for a long moment, though she looked away first before anyone could question it. The reddening of his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by her, though.

“And Folio…the wild card. Every good group has one. Never know what you're gonna do next, but it somehow always works out to be helpful.”

“Damn…are you psychic?” Folio asked, his eyes wide with awe for her little party trick.

Before she could reply, a different voice cut through.

“Guess that makes me the asshole leader.” Noah strolled in and paused a few feet from her. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting her know that he was trying his best to make himself look bigger. An intimidation technique, obviously.

“Arrogant, bossy, doesn't know when to quit…”

“The one who ends up getting someone killed.” Scarlett quickly snapped, her head whipping around to show him just how serious her expression was. “Not yourself, though. No, you're the one who gets to live with the guilt of his pretentious, pompous attitude being the reason a friend doesn't make it out alive.”

NICHOLAS

The room grew so quiet that he was convinced you could hear a pin drop. He was looking at Noah, at Scarlett, and then back to Noah, studying the way they now glared at one another. His best friend appeared as if he wanted to explode (verbally? physically? both?), but he was doing the best he could at holding onto his composure.

Flexing his shoulders backwards, Noah gave a single nod. Seconds later, he was disappearing to the other side of the room where he could slip through a typically concealed doorway that led to their makeshift studio area.

“I'll draw up a plan and see you guys in a couple of days, yeah?”

Scarlett was smiling again as if nothing had happened but he could pick up on the slight waver in her voice. That had him curious.

Unfortunately, she was gathering her belongings and strutting away before he could even stand from his seat.

“Hey, Sca-” Nick rushed to his feet to try to stop her, but she was gone. The sound of the elevator doors closing rang in his ears - a reminder that they really needed to fix that.

“Shit, she's brutal.” Jolly shook his head. “I still like her, though.”

Nick heavily exhaled while turning on his heel, now heading back the other way to where Noah had slid away. He found him sitting at the old, out of tune piano, lightly pressing random keys as if just testing the sound.

“Maybe I should just do this alone.”

That was the last thing Nick had been expecting to hear.

“Absolutely not.”

“No, Nick, she's right. I should've told Ulrik to 'fuck off’. It's my fault we’re in this, and I'm not going to let anyone else die because of me.”

Nick could sense how heavy those words were for him to say. He could hear it. He could feel it. They were all still mourning in their own way, though Noah’s preferences were a little more on the self destructive side.

“You've completely lost it if you think any of us are going to let you do this alone.”

Despite his statement being true, he couldn't bring himself to tell Noah that he was wrong for experiencing guilt and blame that he placed on himself. Things had happened in the past because of him. Nick figured it was best to not outright say this, though.

“Fuck!” Noah abruptly growled, his hands slamming down on the piano keys with such force that a couple remained permanently sunken in.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking understanding and loyal? Why can't you for once just tell me I'm a piece of shit? Huh, Nick?”

How the hell had this suddenly become an attack on him?

“I know you're thinking it. Jolly and Folio obviously are too. Shit, even your girlfriend read me like a fucking children's picture book.”

“What? Scarlett isn't my-”

“Obviously, Nick. A girl like her?” Noah snorted a laugh. “She would rip you to pieces.”

Nick stared at the back of his best friend’s head, since he had refused to turn around since their conversation began. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he swallowed every harsh word because he knew Noah would regret this by the next day. That's just how things went with them nowadays.

“Y’know, maybe Scarlett was right about some things. Your attitude will be your downfall.”

× × ×

The last thing he wanted right then was for Noah to be right. He refused to let that fucker wear a smug smile while muttering 'I told ya so’ to him. Why was he so quick to assume Scarlett would get the better of him? All because he was nice? Because he knew how to smile? Because he didn't need to be a broody asshole day after day?

Nick wouldn't let himself believe that.

Taking in a deep breath, he shook his hands out to rid the nerves, then he pressed the faintly glowing blue button on the outside of the door. There was nothing for a long moment, so long that he almost walked away, but as he was considering it, the door creaked open slowly.

“Nick? What…how did you find me?”

Not even seeing Scarlett’s face right then could calm him. Although, the fact that she recognized him within less than a second while he was wearing his mask did make his heart swell a bit.

“It took you how long to find where we were?” He cracked a slight smile. “Just had to show you how it's done.”

Even through her confused expression, he could see a smile threatening to appear and overtake her stoic demeanor. Nick was praying that meant she was at least a little happy to see him - invited or not.

He watched as she contemplated silently to herself before finally taking steps back and widening the entryway for him.

“Wait…don't go any further.” After closing and securing the door with multiple locks, Scarlett’s form rushed by him so she could begin pulling the curtains closed around the living room. The area darkened significantly, though he understood why she was being cautious.

“I'd rather not become Above’s nightly entertainment,” she explained once she was turning to face him, her arms loosely crossed over her chest in what he could assume was another one of her infamous defensive stances.

SCARLETT

Why was her heart racing right then?

Why was Nick in her home?

Why was he looking at her like that?

Before she could verbalize any of these questions, he was tugging the black mask off his head and shaking his fingers through his hair.

“You shouldn't be here…” she softly murmured, the nerves setting in. “It's not safe for either of us.”

Scarlett desperately wanted to tell herself to ‘shut the hell up’ because having him there actually felt nice. Her apartment wasn't so lonely for once. It was going to be a fleeting feeling and she knew this, but what was so wrong with enjoying it while she could?

Oh, right, the high risk of death.

Nick nodded in agreement, but instead of turning and leaving like she was expecting him to, he actually took fast steps over to her. His rough hands grabbed her face within them and he leaned down as far as he needed to, to force his lips hard against hers.

The shock of the kiss nearly knocked the breath out of her, but she was able to recover almost instantly before he got the wrong idea from her reaction. It took about the same amount of time for Nick to soften the claim his lips had made on hers. Scarlett wasn't going to let that slide.

As they engaged in their yet-to-be-broken kiss, her hands ran up along the length of his waist and over his arms where she could briefly grip his wrists. Since he had just come in from outside, he was wearing far too many layers that were used to shield him from the elements. So, she quickly went to work at ridding him of them.

First, his jacket was pushed from his shoulders, followed by the secondary lighter one he wore beneath it. Nick graciously helped her, eagerly tugging at the sleeves and tossing each article of clothing aside. She couldn't help but to smile against his lips since she found his excitement to be cute.

Scarlett released a slight sound of surprise as he gripped beneath her thighs and lifted her up into his arms, forcing her back into the wall. Her legs secured around his waist, pressing herself right against where she could feel the growing bulge in his dark jeans.

“Someone's excited…” she taunted, her breathing heavy after parting from the kiss. Nick’s lips were flushed red, pupils dilated as he stared directly at her. Her thumb swiped along his lower lip, gently soothing the tier from where her teeth had sunken in at some point. She swore she saw his eyes darken just before his lips were crashing to hers again.

Scarlett moaned, her fingers working back into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He must've liked this, because next thing she knew he was pressing himself firm between her thighs, grinding against her aching core. The sensation caused her to shiver, legs then tightening around him in an attempt to bring him in closer. Nick’s grip on her thighs embedded deeper and now it was his turn to break from her lips, just so he could begin trailing hot kisses along her neck and the front of her chest.

“Nicky…” she breathed out to gain his attention. That's all it took for him to detach himself from her skin, his bright eyes lifting to meet with her own. “I should probably tell you that I'm not looking for anything serious.”

The man she was currently wrapped around was sweet and she knew he had a good head on his shoulders, anyone would be lucky to have him, but these days…it wasn't that simple anymore.

His eye searched hers as he carefully lowered her back down to her feet, though he didn't move away from her. Actually, he pressed his body flush against hers, trapping her between himself and the wall. Scarlett smirked, her hands slipping beneath the shirt he wore so she could feel the heat of his bare skin.

“I know,” he nodded while his hand smoothed along her jaw and to the back of her neck. “That's fine.”

To her, that was a green light to continue.

Scarlett pressed up onto her tip toes so she could kiss him again, just before she placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed him back. Grabbing his shoulders, she guided him to the couch and forced him down into a seated position. Nick’s hands instantly attached to her hips as he gazed up at her with a smile, though his obvious desire for her was still present in his eyes.

Grasping his shirt, she pulled it off in a swift motion and tossed it back to be tended to later. Despite his hands eagerly beginning to lift the dress she wore, Scarlett sent a look his way that caused him to immediately stop, though his touch didn't leave her body.

“You listen well,” she taunted. “I like that.” With a lingering smirk, she gently nudged his hands away so she could slip her own beneath her dress, her panties being pulled down for her to step out of.

Nick watched her for a moment, but then began fumbling with the belt he wore, followed by the button and zipper of his jeans. He really was just so fucking cute. Most people she had been with in the past always tried to play it way too cool, making it appear as if they really didn't give a shit about what was happening. But Nick? Well, he clearly had no issue with showing his excitement.

Stepping back to him, her hands slowly ran up the expanse of his thighs. Nick took in a sharp inhale as she grazed the obvious bulge that was straining in his jeans, the reaction causing her to arch a brow.

“Sensitive?” Her smirk widened when he cursed under his breath but ultimately nodded in response.

Scarlett gently pressed the heel of her hand into him before her fingers began to massage his lengthening hard on over the fabric. Her eyes fixated on his face, joyfully watching the change in his expression as his hips bucked up into her palm and his brows knitted together.

“If I wasn't so eager to have you, I'd make you cum just like this…” she softly threatened.

Nick heavily breathed out at this, his frustrations quite apparent. She understood how maddening it could be because she was feeling it as well. The only difference was that she had a bit more composure than he did, though only because she had claimed the dominance between them. At least this time.

Hiking her dress up, she situated herself on his lap in a straddling position. She was lifted up onto her knees so she could further undress him, now moving faster than she previously had been. Scarlett dragged his jeans and boxers down as far as necessary, allowing his cock to spring free at full attention.

Then, she was positioning herself over him with the guidance of his hands, but she didn't yet drop herself down.

“You've been thinking about this since the moment you saw me at Seven, haven't you?” Scarlett hovered right over the swollen head of his cock, only allowing him to feel the heat her cunt radiated. His grip on her hips tightened in anticipation, jaw clenching from how she was dragging this out.

“I bet you've imagined how wet I'd be for you…how tight…what sort of noises you'd get me to make…”

Closing the space between them by only a few centimeters, she briefly shut her eyes when she felt the tip nudging against her soaked entrance. It took all of her self control to not just fully give in because Nick felt better already than even she had imagined.

So what if she had spent a night or two cumming around her fingers to the thought of him?

“Are you going to let me find out?” Nick retorted with a smirk of his own, his hips shifting slightly as he attempted to press up into her. He probably thought he was successful in this, but Scarlett had let it happen, both of them gasping in unison when the head of his cock buried further.

Leaning in, she began to kiss along his jaw as her hands shifted back to grip the top edge of the couch. She was slowly taking him in now, stroking herself up and down while engulfing his cock inch by inch.

“Fuck…you feel amazing.” Nick groaned, a twitch of his cock reiterating his words.

His fingers then flexed along her hips and she was suddenly being forced all the way down, his hips lifting simultaneously. A loud moan echoed through the room, easily drowning out the sound of his own groans. Scarlett bowed her head into the crook of his neck, heavily breathing from the rush of ecstasy that radiated through her. Her cunt tightly clenched around his throbbing shaft as she tried to quickly adjust.

Nick pushed the thin fabric of her dress up while they remained flush together so he could fully expose her body to him. One hand slid up her abdomen and between her breasts as the other returned to her hip, eagerly trying to guide her hips along.

It took a moment, but she was finally able to get her bearings and find a proper rhythm. Breathy moans escaped between them once she was sliding up and down his cock with a newly established ease. Each drop of her hips had the tip stroking along just the right spot, causing her to arch her lower back in a desperate need to feel more.

“Nicky…oh!” She gasped, her mouth falling opening and her hips briefly stuttering atop his. “Yeah, just like that…”

Scarlett nodded when his tattooed hands assisted in lifting her up and down, forcing her harder into his lap with every downward motion.

Tossing her hair aside, a hand released the back of the couch so she could grab his jaw. Nick’s eyes were forced up to hers where she held his gaze, just so he could see how fucking good he was making her feel. Something about the eye contact must've really done it for him, because his grip shifted back to her ass to keep her up so he could drive himself up into her aching pussy at a rapid pace. The action caused the entirety of her body to tense and her breath to stall, the pleasure nearly too much.

“I'm going to cum…” Scarlett again nodded. She dropped a hand between her thighs to begin rubbing her clit in fast circles, the act immediately drawing Nick's eye down. Watching him watch her, as well as the sight of his cock disappearing up into her petite body again and again, had her right there.

Only a couple of more thrusts from him beneath her and her cunt was erupting around him, briefly causing her composure to break. Scarlett had to latch onto his shoulder with her teeth to keep herself from crying out his name too loud - they couldn't draw too much attention. His arms circled around her waist to hold her in close as her entire being trembled and quaked with her orgasm.

Nails raked down his arms, involuntarily marking him before she even realized she had. Oh well. Maybe Nick liked the slight pain that came from it, though, because his own hips jerked after he demanded her pussy remain with his cock buried as deep as possible.

“Shhh,” she soothingly hushed him, a hand immediately flying up to cover his mouth to muffle all the moans and profanities he was now expelling. Despite the need to keep quiet, Scarlett whimpered at the sensation of his cum overflowing and spilling out between them, mixing with her own small mess she had made.

Once his body stilled, she slowly lowered her hand and instead covered his mouth with her own. They shared a desperate kiss, all eager tongues moving in sync with teeth clashing as they both tried to overtake the other.

“You good?” Nick mumbled the best he could, receiving a nod from her in response.

“Good.”

In a swift motion, Nick had her on her back across the couch and he was driving himself between her thighs again. She stared up at him with wide eyes for only a second, utterly shocked by his ability to go again almost immediately, until the over-stimulation of him thrusting into her spent cunt clouded her mind.

Scarlett suddenly didn't care anymore if her apartment neighbors heard them. Hell, she would rip her curtains down and let Above watch if that's what it took to make sure he didn't stop.

Propped up on one elbow, his opposite hand began exploring her body. He grasped her neck for a moment, then dropped down to knead and massage her breast that was bouncing with each forceful snap of his hips. Scarlett’s noises spoke to her approval because words were impossible for her to come by right then. The smirk he wore showed his enjoyment in the sounds she made for him.

Nick concluded his exploration when the pads of his fingers made contact with her swollen and overly sensitive clit. A simple touch made her hips twitch and attempt to retract, despite how good it felt at the same time. This didn't stop Nick, though. He sat up on his knees and pulled her in closer, driving in harder and faster while his thumb stroked her clit in time.

Scarlett writhed in ecstasy beneath him, hips rolling up to meet with his, before she was suddenly cumming again. Her pussy gushed and quivered through her climax, to the point that she thought maybe she would pass out from the intensity.

“That's it…you did so good.” Nick cooed, this being a side of him that was taking her completely by surprise. Had he not just been the more submissive between the two? Wasn't she supposed to be the one in control?

Too bad she couldn't focus on that right now because she was too busy watching his face contort as he released inside of her once more. Nick’s head hung at a downwards angle once his hips stopped spasming, the only movement from him now coming from the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He groaned and his jaw clenched as he slowly pulled out, bringing forth a pout from her due to the lack of being filled.

Sex had always been something Scarlett could go without for long periods, simply because there were always more pressing matters that needed tending to. Trying to survive was a daily task that took up most of her time, if she was being honest. But now? Well, now she figured she would have to drown herself in this job of theirs so as to not become carried away each and everyday she was around him.

“We can't tell anyone about this,” she spoke up first after catching her own breath.

Nick had shifted to the opposite end of the couch to regain normal brain function, his eyes settled on her. She wasn't sure how to read his expression, but he eventually nodded in agreement.

“I'm serious, Nick. It could jeopardize everything.”

Taking in a deep breath, Scarlett carefully sat up, her knees being pulled closer to her chest. He was then softly chuckling, head shaking at her comments.

“You should work on your pillow talk,” he teased. “I mean…my cum is still in you as you're telling me this has to stay a secret.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes, a decorative pillow soon being tossed his way once she had dislodged it from behind her back. “Shut up,” she demanded with a huff.

Nick smiled despite being well aware of how serious she was about everything. It wasn't like he was going to go back and gloat to the guys about what they had just done because Scarlett knew he wasn't the type. He may have surprised her a bit towards the end there, but that didn't change what she already knew about him.

“What about…?” He motioned between the two of them and their still fully exposed bodies. “Was this a one time thing?”

Now that was a question she didn't have an answer for. She knew what she should say but it definitely wasn't what she wanted to say.

“Let's just focus on keeping you and the others alive first.”

#noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #nicholas ruffilo fan fiction #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah sebasitan x oc #nicholas ruffilo x oc #dystopian au #motivation: diabolic

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8um8le · 2 years ago

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I absolutely adore your cyberpunk au! The designs are so lovely and cool and your backgrounds are just absolutely gorgeous! I just fell in love with it and love everything about it, including the world!

I was curious about some things though and hope it's alright asking a couple of questions!

1. All relating to their job here, but: Have the boys ever taken on a job that they regretted in the end? Have they ever accidentally hurt a child during their job? Have they ever been backstabbed/set-up?

2. I'm not sure if you answered this or mentioned it before but, what are the boys to each other? Friends, brothers, etc.?

3. Okay, another one sort of relating to their jobs again: Have the boys ever had their night job cross over to their day job? Like, has someone sought revenge by threatening the daycare or something along those lines? Maybe just an incident where they've dealt with some not so great adults that wandered in?

4. Okay, another job related question: Have either of the boys gotten seriously hurt on their night job before? How do they go about fixing each other up? How protective/worried are they for each other?

5. Which of the boys is more affectionate? How would they react to a surprise hug? (I figured a silly, simple question was due after all the previous serious ones XD).

Sorry for the long list of oddly specific questions, I'm just really curious, happen to be up at 1 am with questions circling in my brain, and adore this au to pieces! I hope you have a lovely day/night, and thank you for taking the time to answer this ask! Sorry again for how long it is!

Heheh like these questions, long post under the cut <33

Before the two became hit-men under a contract, they had to build their way up to that position, in their previous two forms they were backstabbed multiple times. An example would be how sometimes they would be assigned one task within an organized group, and after they did their deed, their “team mates” would try to take them out and take credit for their work.

As for accidentally hurting a child in their day job, one of the kids cut their hand from getting too close to Sun’s rays. The parents really didn’t mind, but ever since, Sun has been very careful with the kids and his rays. (Funny how the rays that were meant to defend him, backfired in a way)

2. The boys have this found-family type of situation, they were born with nothing, thrown away left to rot, without knowing why they were even made. They’re all that they have when it comes to family, they see each other as brothers. Though I must say Sun is most definitely the responsible older brother who stresses over everything, and Moon is the chaotic little brother who needs to be put on a backpack leash.

3. When it comes to the day and night job crossing, it never happened yet, since their night job is top secret. Also since they are ranked pretty high as hitmen at this point, they have protection when it comes to identity.

Also the jobs they take are never personal, they’re just sent by someone, so it wouldn’t really make too much sense for someone related to their deceased targets to go after em.

4. Every gig they take in their night job is a life or death situation, so they are in constant danger, they have been badly damaged during their night jobs. Mostly moon because of his careless behaviour.

They try their best to not get damaged though, their contract does comes with their own robot doctor, that will patch them up, it will just cost them money, taken straight out of their paycheque. When it comes to weapon damage or replacement, they don’t have to pay nearly as much though.

Although they complain about the stupidest shit with each other, they really do care for one another, they never verbally say it upfront to one another, but their actions and constantly making sure one another is okay goes to show their affection. Also Moon’s chill nature can be very helpful when it comes to calming Sun’s panic attacks.

5. I think the more affectionate one would be Sun, he understands human emotions a bit more than Moon does. He’s very caring, sometimes too caring which leads him to a spiral of overthinking. Moon on the other hand is just naturally loveable, he doesn’t need to try when it comes to charming others.

Funny little thing I’d like to add is their skill at each job, and who does what better, since there is a bit of irony there. Sun is excellent when it comes to his night job, he’s calm, calculated, and swift, perfect for clean and quick executions. Though at his day job, he finds that he can unintentionally scare the kids with him being jittery and over-enthusiastic.

Moon on the other hand, He’s very smart when it comes to countering attacks and could take mechs twice his size, but he does poorly at stealth, and lacks patience. In his day job, the kids love him, since he is super easy going and nonchalant.

Sorry for the grammar mistakes im sleepy~

Ty for the cool questions!!

#cyberpunk au

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aylacavebear · 10 months ago

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She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3902

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Mention of Sex, some angst, And the slow burn begins.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

Bobby had packed up quicker than what the original plan was and showed up at the bunker two days later. Maria and Jess helped him bring everything in. God her uncle had a lot of books and none of the boxes were light.

He picked a room not too far down the hall from Maria’s and that was where a third of his boxes were taken. That would at least allow him to go through them and figure out what he wanted to do with them all. The other two-thirds of his boxes were stacked neatly in the library.

“Boys not back yet?” Bobby asked once all his stuff was inside.

“They should be here tomorrow,” Jess told him when Maria joined them in the library.

“Have you heard from John yet?” he asked Maria.

She sighed and shook her head, “No, and neither have the boys, at least not as of their call yesterday.”

He sighed and looked around the library, “I left him a message too. That man is stubborn as hell.”

“Well, no one gave him any real details so he couldn’t just run off on his own,” Maria told him.

“He’ll show up, eventually,” Bobby replied with a chuckle.

“Oh, we’re all getting tattoos and no one is arguing with me on this one,” Maria told the two of them.

“Excuse me?” Bobby retorted, not liking being told he was getting a tattoo, even from his niece.

“I came across it in one of the books on demons,” she began as she moved the books around on the table, looking for one in specific, “It’s an anti-possession sigil, and we all need one.”

It took her a moment to not only find the book but also the page the information was on, then showed it to her uncle as Jess looked over his shoulder, “So yeah, tattoos,” Maria said proudly, not giving them a chance to argue.

Bobby groaned as he read the information. The girl was good at finding things, although he wasn’t keen on the idea of a tattoo. Jess thought that the tattoo idea could be fun, and it was a nice image. It could have looked a lot worse and she knew it, as she’d read a lot in the last couple of days.

“You told the boys yet?” Bobby asked after handing the book back to her.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’, “Figured I’d surprise ‘em.” she finished with a smirk.

That had at least made Bobby smile as he imagined their faces, “Have you found a way to deal with Azazel?” he finally asked them.

Maria frowned, as did Jess, “No, not yet, but now that you’re here, another set of eyes to help is always a good thing,” she ended with a small smile, not wanting to sound hopeful.

The three of them read through books and files before Maria got up around four to go make dinner, needing to give her eyes a rest but too ansty to sit down anywhere. Her mind was also too full to focus on anything else. She was still trying to figure out how to approach Dean when he got back, as she never forgot the bet between her and Jess.

She made a simple dinner, burgers, and fries, and even cleaned up afterward. She felt burnt out on research and needed a change of scenery but hadn’t felt the desire to go anywhere either. So, after dinner, she just bid them good night and went to her room. Maria plopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t long before a light blue and white glow from her top dresser drawer caught her attention.

“I don’t want more dreams,” she groaned as she covered her eyes with her arm.

The light from the book pulsed and she groaned again, like a child putting off a chore before she finally got up and opened the drawer, “Fine. I guess I can’t put it off much longer,” she sighed as she pulled the book out of its box.

The glow went away when she touched it. With everything that had been going on, she hadn’t wanted to add more to her plate but apparently, the book had other ideas. So now she was leaning against her headboard, rereading the chapter on Zamariel, for the fourth time. She had read it three times when she’d first discovered the book back at her Uncle’s, fourteen years ago. That thought made her pause and look up. Had it really been that long already, she thought to herself and shook her head a bit.

She still wasn’t aware the book was written in Enochian. It just looked like normal words to her. Maria read long into the night, far more information than she could absorb in one sitting or one read-through. Around midnight she finally put the book down on her night table before rubbing her eyes.

“Damn,” she sighed as she looked at her clock, twelve thirteen, “Guess time flies when you’re into something.”

When she clicked off her lamp and curled up in bed, she prayed that the dreams wouldn’t come, even though she knew they would. She already felt so overwhelmed with everything else that was going on, she thought that perhaps this would push her back toward whiskey if it was too much, feeling as though she was at a breaking point with her waking world. She even fought sleep for almost another hour before it overtook her.

She was at that lakeshore again with the forest around it and the snow-tipped mountains in the distance. There was a slight amount of cloud cover but it only added to the beauty. “Are you ready?” a female voice from behind her asked. Maria turned around, more curious than anything. No one had spoken directly to her in her dreams before, “Ready for what?” she asked, taking in the woman’s appearance. Long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an average physique, and she was a few inches shorter than Maria, dressed in similar clothes. “Ready to take the next step in unlocking your potential,” the woman told her, in a fairly level tone. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of this and had more questions now, “What if I said I wasn’t?” Maria asked, carefully. “Then things will continue as they have been and you won’t remember this dream,” the woman explained plainly. Maria turned away from the woman and sat down on one of the large rocks near the lakeshore, thinking, “What if I said I was ready but wanted to go slowly?” she asked. The woman moved over, closer to her, “Then it would go slowly, at your own pace. The learning would take place at night, in your dreams instead of in your waking world. So it really is up to you,” the woman said calmly. “Why do I feel like somehow the weight of the world rests on my shoulders?” Maria practically mumbled. “I’m surprised you don’t have more questions,” the woman said. “I have a ton of questions. I just don’t know if I want the answers,” she replied, sighing. Maria felt like she sat on that rock and thought about everything for hours but the time of day never changed, “Can you give me a week, to really think about this?” she finally asked. “Yes. Just read the book again when you are ready and I’ll be here,” the woman told her.

She woke up sighing, lying on her back, “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she whispered into the darkness of her room before she glanced at the clock, “Six thirty,” she chuckled without humor.

Maria climbed out of bed and got dressed. She wasn’t feeling in the mood to deal with anyone but she wanted coffee, so headed out to the war room, glancing in the library before making her way into the kitchen. Bobby and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table.

“Mornin’ kiddo,” Bobby told her, sipping his coffee.

“Morning guys,” she replied, sounding distant.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, a little concerned.

“I guess it could have been worse,” she chuckled without humor.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jess asked her.

“Not really. Not right now at least,” she replied, giving them both a soft smile before she sat down with them, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Journalling might help,” Jess suggested.

Maria thought about that while she sipped her coffee. When it came to certain cases it did help to sometimes write out the patterns to make it easier to figure out, “Thanks Jess. I might just give that a shot,” she finally told her, smiling a little.

Jess felt good that she was able to suggest something that might be able to help her. The three had idle chit-chat for another hour before Maria headed to her room, wondering if she had anything that might resemble a pad of paper she could use as a journal. She wasn’t ready to talk to her Uncle about it either, even if her father had said he knew. Bobby and Jess had gone back to research, mostly waiting for the boys to show up with Sam and Jess’s stuff.

She found a pad of paper in the desk drawer, thinking she must have put it there the night when she had unpacked her things. Once she grabbed it and a pen, she sat down on her bed, leaning against the headboard. Her knees were up and the pad was leaning against her legs, but every time she went to write something, it was like her mind went completely blank and it was annoying the hell out of her.

Hours passed and she still hadn’t written anything. It was like all her thoughts kept jumbling around in her mind, or at least that was what she was telling herself. She hadn’t even heard the guys come in, nor the sounds of them moving things down the hall to the room Jess and Sam had picked. It wasn’t until Dean opened her door and stuck his head in that she found out.

“You gonna help or just sit in here and let us do all the work,” he asked her, in a teasing way, with that damned smirk again.

“What happened to knocking?” she told him through her annoyance as she glared at him.

“Uh, forgot,” he said quickly, just smiling.

“Sure ya did,” she mumbled before she got up to help, pushing him out of the way.

“Rude,” he told her, rubbing his chest a little where she had pushed against him with her hand, using most of her body weight.

“At least I didn’t hit you,” she told him without looking over her shoulder as she walked toward the garage.

Apparently, they’d gotten a small U-Haul for the things they had wanted to keep since the space in the Impala was limited. Sam and Jess had talked a lot about what they wanted to keep and what wasn’t important to either of them. Now, everything they owned lay inside that U-Haul. Maria hugged Sam when she saw him, which instantly annoyed Dean, as she had shoved him. Then she helped them unload everything, taking most of it to their room. The two of them even had a mostly private bathroom with as far back a room as they had picked. This way Jess would have somewhere to keep her makeup and all that girly stuff Maria wasn’t interested in, nor would she have to even look at it.

They all ate after the U-Haul was unpacked. As they were sitting around the table, Maria spoke up, “So, everyone is getting a tattoo as soon as John gets here,” she said nonchalantly, but seriously.

Dean almost choked on his beer, which made Maria chuckle a little, even if she didn’t look over at him, “Excuse me?” he asked in utter disbelief.

“It’s an anti-possession tattoo, and everyone, including Uncle Bobby and John, are getting one,” she said confidently.

“Don’t try to argue with her boy, she showed me what it does. She knows her shit and this will keep all of us safe,” Bobby pipped in, backing her up.

“I already decided where I’m getting mine,” Jess said, giving Sam a very flirtatious look.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked her, raising an eyebrow and smirking, “Where’s that?”

Jess leaned over and whispered something in Sam’s ear, which made him blush, deeply. Maria chuckled as she looked back down at her plate and Dean smirked, but he was looking at Maria, again putting on that cool guy front. There was a little more laughter before Bobby headed out and back to the library. They were still trying to figure out how to kill Azazel after all.

“Come on, I’ll show you the sigil,” Jess told Sam as she got up and took his hand, attempting to get him to follow her. She also gave Maria a knowing look, which only made her roll her eyes.

Sam got up, smiling from ear to ear as he let her lead him into the library. Maria sighed and started cleaning up. She still hadn’t figured out how to ask Dean if he was interested in her without being blunt about it. Dean leaned back in his chair and just watched her move around the kitchen for a while.

“So, are you interested in me or something?” she finally just asked him as she washed the dishes.

Dean’s face went from smiling to shock before back to that cool guy facade again, “You’re hot, why wouldn’t I be,” he said cockily, with a smirk.

She wasn’t sure why but his words didn’t make her feel better, and in fact, only saddened her, “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not interested,” she told him, almost coldly.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at him as his jaw clenched before he left the kitchen, both hurt and feeling rejected. He had been trying to compliment her, not realizing that was probably the worst way to tell her he liked her. Dean didn’t say anything to the three in the library, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and finding a room much further away than hers to go drink alone.

Maria leaned on the counter in the kitchen once he left, feeling hurt that all he seemed to want or be interested in was her looks. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around quickly, only to find Jess standing there.

Jess saw the hurt in her eyes, “What happened?” she asked.

“Looks like you’ve got chores for the next week,” Maria said quietly, not even able to manage a smile.

“Wait? What happened?” she asked again, not fully understanding.

“I asked him and he’s interested all right, in my looks, not me. So, guess we were both right. I’ll split the chores with you or we can just call off the bet,” Maria told her, feeling a pull toward drinking again.

Jess felt bad for even having brought it up now. She had been sure she’d caught Dean daydreaming about her, at least that had been the look on his face. It didn’t seem to be that of a guy only interested in sex. She’d been around enough college guys to tell the difference. Jess grabbed a beer for her out of the fridge and popped the top before she handed it to her.

“We can call it off, the bet. I’m really sorry I was wrong,” Jess told her softly before heading back into the library, not giving her a chance to reply.

For a moment Maria just stared at the beer Jess had handed to her before she set it on the counter, knowing there was no real relief at the bottom of that bottle. She sighed before she went back to the dishes, deciding to deal with her emotions later, when she was alone. Maria wasn’t in a hurry as she took care of the dishes and then cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. No one came to bother her though. She even dumped the beer down the drain before she threw away the empty bottle. She headed straight to her room though, not wanting to be around anyone.

Since she’d gone through her detox and her grief at Sam and Jess’s at the beginning of the year, she felt things again. These were things that had started when she was fourteen and Dean had told her that she was acting like Sam, things she’d buried back with her grief. Now though, those emotions were coursing through her again and she wasn’t entirely sure what they were or how to fully deal with them.

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?” Bobby asked Sam and Jess, keeping his voice quiet, but needing information.

Jess sighed as she looked over at him, “I was so sure that Dean actually liked her that we made a bet. Well, I was wrong. He just likes her for her looks,” she replied, still feeling bad.

“What was said, exactly?” Sam asked, curious more than anything, as he had thought the same thing.

“She said that Dean said he was interested in her looks,” Jess answered, looking up at him.

Sam furrowed his brow, as that hadn’t helped at all, “Maybe I should go talk to him.”

Bobby was wondering what exactly had been said as well. He remembered the looks that not only he saw, but that John and William had seen when Dean was sixteen. He also knew that sometimes those kinds of crushes died over time so decided that he’d keep his eye on Dean, feeling protective of his niece.

Dean had been sitting in that room for at least a half hour at this point, drinking and thinking, two bad combinations for him when he felt the way he did. He still couldn’t figure out what he’d done or said wrong. In the past, he always had lots of luck with the ladies. He was smooth, charming, and could make women melt with that smirk of his. But Maria was a completely different sort of girl. He had known this but all women liked compliments, didn’t they? Something Dean wasn’t so good at was words outside of compliments on physical beauty. He had no idea how to tell Maria that he thought she was funny, confident, an amazing hunter, sweet, could cook like a chef, and had had his heart since he was sixteen when he’d seen her that Thanksgiving morning when she pulled the pies out of the oven.

“Dude, you awake?” he heard from the other side of the door.

How Sam had figured out which room he was in puzzled him, “Yeah, go away,” Dean told him.

“Dean…” Sam said, a concern in his tone.

“I said go away,” Dean repeated, a bit more sternly, not wanting to deal with his brother, again. He’d had enough of it on the drive to Cali and back and didn’t want to hear another word.

Sam stood out there for a moment, debating pushing the topic before he finally opened the door and went inside, “What happened?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“Well, I was right and you were wrong, let’s leave it at that,” Dean said, not looking up at his brother before he took another drink of the whiskey.

“What’d you say to her?” Sam asked, concerned, but still gentle.

“I told her that I was interested 'cause she was hot,” Dean found himself just blurting out.

Sam closed his eyes and turned his head toward the ceiling, letting out a small breath, it all made sense, “You really are clueless, aren’t you,” he chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, almost glaring at his brother.

Sam was doing his best not to laugh at his brother when he looked back over at him, “She’s not some waitress at a bar or some chick you’re picking up for a one-night stand. When was the last time you ever saw her give two shits about her looks? She’s a hunter Dean.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and Sam shook his head before he left his brother to his thoughts and whiskey. When Sam sat down in the chair next to Jess, she and Bobby looked over at him, curious, “What happened?” she asked.

“Let’s just say, Dean’s an idiot.” Sam chuckled.

“Well, I could have told you that,” Bobby almost scoffed.

“He likes her, he just has no clue how to tell her. Those two are gonna have to figure it out on their own,” Sam explained, “They’re both stubborn.”

Bobby knew that firsthand, Maria was his niece after all, and Dean was like a son to him. Jess also understood how that worked. They couldn’t push the two of them toward each other or get either of them to listen to reason.

Maria sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, her arms resting on her knees as she stared at the ceiling. Jerk, she thought to herself. Being alone in her room wasn’t helping so she got up and headed down to the gym, needing to hit something and get out the anger that had surfaced. She passed Sam in the hallway. He looked as though he was headed to either his room or Dean’s, whichever one that was for the night, but she didn’t ask. Bobby and Jess watched her walk by, through the war room, before she disappeared down the other hallway.

She found the punching bag first, not even taping up her hands, wanting to feel every blow, picturing Dean’s smug, smirking face. At first, there was no pain as she got used to the feel of the bag. Then, she put more force into it, as if she was aiming for the wall on the other side of the room. Before she knew it, she was breathing heavily, her muscles tense and burning, and her knuckles were bruised before she sank to the floor. That was when the tears came. There weren’t many but she let them fall, still refusing to admit that she even liked Dean, or wanted to. When the tears stopped, she stood up and decided she wouldn’t hate him, but she wasn’t about to like him either. She’d go back to him being her rival, like when they were younger.

Her body was sore as she made her way back through the bunker to her room, gathering a change of clothes before heading to the shower. The hot water would feel good on her muscles and help wash away the rest of what she was feeling, relaxing her. She locked the bathroom door and just stood under the hot flow of water for a while, letting it all go. Afterward, she did feel better and was even smiling a bit as she made her way back to the library. She sat down in the seat she’d sat in earlier that day. Bobby raised an eyebrow, watching her.

“You good?” Sam asked her.

“Yup. I’m good,” she replied, lightheartedly as she opened the book she’d been reading.

The three were a little confused but dropped the subject. Dean still hadn’t come out of the room he was in, even after he finished his bottle of whiskey.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

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tokillamockingbird427 · 10 months ago

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I finally remembered to Mich post at a convenient time. (Get it? Mich post? Sounds like shit post?)

Mich is an OC I created with @callofdooty and he is a massive meme! Half of the shit we gave to him character-wise was done with the thought "This would be funny." and we were 1) Right 2) Also somehow added depth+feels to it.

Mich, pronounced like Mitch, is actually named Michael. Full name, Michael Rorke. And he is Gabriel Rorke's older brother. Oh no, there's two of them! *Screaming* (Credit to Doot for naming him, the genius.)

Read more insert/cut off due to length

Mich and Gabe grew up in a classically patriotic household, and were pretty close siblings, even with the latter having a temper for everyone. (Mich has a scar on his chin/side of his mouth because Gabe whipped a rock at him once.) Unfortunately, Mich was a bit of a black sheep and felt he didn't really fit in with his family, for various reasons. So once he could leave, he did, and just never really looked back. Which left Gabe feeling abandoned. (Mich's reasons range from not vibing with his parents authoritarian structure to being queer+trans and them not really being the best people to support that.)

After he was out of the house Mich went on to live his best life. He is best described as an anarchist weed-head woods-hermit survivalist. Quite the description! My favorite idea for him was that he'd live in "No Man's Land" post ODIN because the only government presence is the military, who doesn't really bother with random people in the woods.

Here's where the depth comes in: We decided the reason Gabe is the way he is, Americas ugliest lap-dog, is because he was upset with Mich for leaving and more or less rebelling against him for it. (I have a quote to sum it up "Rebellion for Mich was running away from their parents. Rebellion for Gabe was running away from Mich.") Mich didn't really intend to abandon Gabe, it's more or less something that happened and only tried to correct once they were both adults. (Which didn't really work out well. Gabe is very iffy with him.)

Now there's not a lot more to his "canon" because he just gets tossed into various scenarios and then reacts, but I do have a list of what are more-or-less "fun facts" about him.

Mich fun facts: -Isn't bald, unlike Gabe, but does keep his hair on the shorter side. -Regularly dyes his hair random colors and patterns, the latter of which he free hands. (Has never in his life set foot in a salon. Somehow hair hair isn't crunchy.) -Likes to use "Pal" and "Little buddy" whereas Gabe is always using "Jr" and "Kid" -Wrinklier and smilier version of his brother. They look hella alike, to the point that he wigs Hesh out when they first meet. -100% can and will adopt Hesh. That's his lil guy. Logan is not exempt from this either. -Has zero problem with Gabe joining the Federation. Is more upset about the whole "Murdering his homoerotic "best friend" and traumatizing both his sons" thing. -Fluent in Spanish+Portuguese. -Has no formal military training but finds no problem wielding firearms or finding himself in combat. (I mean, he lives in NML. That place always got some kinda battle. You gotta know some fighting skills.) -Bandannas and cowboy hats are his favorite headgear. -Keeps photos of him and Gabe on his person. -Constantly jokes that his full name is actually "Michigan" and that's what "Mich" is short for. -Performed his own top surgery. /J -Very laid back personality, though he's smart enough to know when/if he needs to be more serious/strict. -Incredibly annoyed that Rorke kinda stole their last name like it's his first name. -Very aware of whatever Elias and Gabe have/had going on. Very amused by it. -"Protect trans kids" flag in his front room. -Has multiple spouses. Romantically or just legally has yet to be decided. Not that he'd tell anyone. -Has kids. Mini Mich's causing chaos. (Just don't ask where the kids came from, mf made them from clay for all we know.) -Mich and Merrick are besties. (At the very least, Mich is the person Merrick tolerates the most. Outside Hesh.) -For all the quirks he really is just some fucking guy. -Daniel and The Cooler Daniel meme.

#call of duty #call of duty ghosts #michael rorke (oc)#gabriel rorke #elias walker #ghost husbands #thomas a merrick #hesh walker #logan walker

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itsmeanyango · 2 years ago

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PLUTO IN AQUA TRANSIT IN THE HOUSES

This is a light post, it's not in-depth. I will be posting an in-depth post entailing Human design on my Patreon. You can subscribe in advance here!

You can also book a personal Pluto in Aquarius reading here:

You can also get a birth chart reading from me here:

Pluto means: Shock, transformation, rebirth Aquarius means: Independence, humanitarian, innovative, Stubborn.

The above are the themes I am using for this reading.

This transit(Pluto in Aquarius) is brief in 2023, but it sets the stage for what the next 20 years from January 21st 2024 hold. All the matters here are resolvable, but first they will shake foundations. 20 years is a long time to be stuck in the past. It will be from March 23rd to June 11th 2023. What you learn during that time will be very crucial as it will help you come January 21st 2024 and the proceeding two decades.

On top of all of this(below), here is a general message for every single person. If you know very well that you can never accept your child for being their own person, sit out parenting for the next Twenty years. Do not have a child, you will just hurt them and yourself. The children who will be born with Pluto in Aquarius are going to be VERY DIFFERENT and they will be very independent and once they become adults they will be very different from this current and older generations. They will be starting new patterns, they will develop their own values and have their own mind. They will not be susceptible to conditioning as such. They will advance technology and even go through hardship because of technology. They come as a generation with the shock factor, doing and accomplishing the unheard of. They will not be afraid of cutting off ANYONE who interferes with their peace.

In my post here, I mentioned that the Human Design calendar starts on January 21st.

If you want to know how to set new year's resolutions or what your new year will look like, read the free post on It's my year here

In the 1H: You may come off to others as "better than the rest", people might see your behaviour as your "true colours". They are used to you a certain way but now you are different and they can't handle it. Especially if you are in an environment that does not respect your boundaries, there will be a lot of resistance towards you when you don't let your goalpost get moved. Standing your ground is good, finally you are doing it. However, make sure this is not just pure stubbornness or out of spite. You had Pluto in your 12H for the past two decades, do not let those hard times be for nothing. It's your time to shine!

In the 2H: Your money and resources for survival are going through changes that may not be easy for you to handle. Your money might either be running out so fast or coming in in torrents and you are unable to handle this. Take a financial literacy course and practice what your have learnt. Seek financial experts BUT MAKE SURE YOU ARE FINANCIALLY LITERATE FIRST OR ELSE YOU WILL LOSE YOUR MONEY, RESOURCES AND ASSETS. Also, do what works for you. Just because everyone is doing x does not mean X will work for you. You can try x but if it does not work, be innovative because that's an Aquarian strength. Not a good time to be having surgery, especially cosmetic. Seek second opinions if your doctors recommend surgery. Leave your face ALONE!

In the 3H: Be careful with your words. It's time to practice mindfulness. You may say something that really shocks people or yourself. Do the inner work. Also be careful the lyrics you sing out because they just might manifest. The people you bring to your neighbourhood can make or break your living situation. There might be something shocking or transformative in the neighborhood. Ensure your security is up to date in your house/compound. You face eviction for being an inconsiderate neighbour such as being loud or making your living situation akin to a night club. In Kenya the credit score talks are up. Eviction affects your credit score. Debt affects your credit score and people with debt may not be able to qualify for housing approval.

In the 4H: What's your relationship with your mother like? What's your relationship as a mother like? Who was the mother in the relationship?(were you your own mother?) Separation from home or child is probable. Finding out about a long lost family member or secret, losing family heirlooms. Discovering family secrets. Paternity and maternity tests. Take care of your mental health, cognitive dissonance is in the air and so are nervous/mental breakdowns. If moving away from "family" or home helps, go for it. You deserve peace.

In the 5H: Stop, that's the message. You are now overdoing it. The party is over. Stop. Stop or I'll Stop you. This is your heart speaking, the organ that pumps blood. Stop or I'll stop. This is your loved ones also speaking. Stop or we stop. Unfortunately, many of you won't stop. Don't be part of the many.

In the 6H: Saying goodbye to pets. Feeling in your gut when something, somewhere or someone is not right. Healing traumas because they keep bubbling up. Trauma is stored in the core-stomach. It's time to seek holistic health practices. Seeking holistic health practices does not mean ignore modern day medicine! Change your diet to more friendly foods. See how your body responds to different foods. If it gives you a tummy ache,stop it. If you are 30 and over, this is ESPECIALLY important! The environment you eat your food in also affects your digestion. How do you feel eating in silent restaurants with ambient music? How do you feel eating in restaurants near the sea? How do you feel eating by a window? How do you feel eating in restaurants in sky scrappers or on the top floor of buildings? How do you feel in certain places? How do you feel around certain people? An adult coloring book with at least thirty coloring pages will help you. If you can't afford that, you can always download free to print coloring pages online and color them. Learn about different colours of food and how having certain colors in your plate helps. Heal so that nobody has to heal from you.

In the 7H: Disruption in relationships and contracts. Learning about yourself and making compromises in relationships (not just romantic, also family, platonic, friendships, workplace, business etc)that are unlike you. Ask yourself, is this sacrifice worth 20 years of my life? Look to your 1H to remember who you are. Look to the sacrifices the people who came before you(parents, grandparents,elder siblings, ancestors,older relatives, your friends etc)made, was it worth it?You learn from the past and decide what to do.

In the 8H: Your taxes! Your credit score! Debt! Anything that does not belong to you will be your source of destruction if you are not responsible while handling other people's matters. Do not chew more than you can swallow! You will choke! Your sexual partners may be Delilah. If you are a sexual offender, you are getting caught. Spiritual psychosis, believing you are separate from the rest and better (a supreme being-sins of our mother explains it best). Start working on your will and any end of life plans. It's important you do this so that your property never falls in the wrong hands. This is not because you will pass on soon, this is a personal activity that helps you see people for who they really are. As you make such preparations, you start seeing things clearly. You get to know who is for you and who is not. You don't need to let people know you are working on your will or end of life arrangements. It also gives you peace knowing you are in control of your end of life and there won't be any conflicts.

In the 9H: What shocking thing have you discovered? Will you share it or leave people in the dark? Take care of your thighs, do not stray far from the collective otherwise you will get into quicksand and nobody will know. It's good to look up from your books and see + experience what's going on around you. Do you want to travel? And why is it space that you dream of travelling to. Remember Icarus? Do not let your desire turn to greed. Running away will never fix anything. In my post It's my year, I said this:

"Trials and tribulations are part of life, they happen. But just because they are part of life does not mean you have to swim miles and miles in them. Sometimes the trials and tribulations are just a distraction from the good things. Sometimes, they are what we need to face and accept for them to get out of our way because you can't stand in the tracks of a speeding train and expect it not to hit you."

In the 10H: Your career will be your success or make you start from zero. The world is changing, times are changing. Just like the age when computers were introduced but people refused to learn how to use computers because "computers will replace them", the same thing is happening now. If you do not learn out of fear of being replaced, the people who learnt will replace you. Make hay while the sun still shines. Whatever you choose will become an unbreakable bond. This particular transit has an unbreakable seal, there's no coming back from the choice you make.

In the 11H: Show me your friends and I'll show you your future. Your network will be the ones who either stand by you or against you. This year we have heard so many cases of friends transmuting their jealousy into acts of wickedness. It gets worse, so choose your circle wisely. Your 11H is your community and you do not want to be where there are attacks from neighbouring communities. Neither do you want to be sleeping with the enemy.

In the 12H: This transit will be hard especially for young people(from age 19) and the very old. You realise that you have been living a lie. It feels like everyday is a new day on the battlefield. Going to different churches, mental health facilities to find answers and help.20 years is a long time to be disturbed. Sitting with yourself, feeling your feelings, accepting whatever is going on. Forgiving yourself. That will help you get grounded and anything that tries to shake you won't succeed. You may get tattoos, shave your hair, dye your hair. Some of you may end up in prison because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Others may end up in prison because they gave up and chose to become felons because to them there's no point struggling to live a good life only to keep suffering. This transit is like having a 12H profection year, but harder and for 20 years. But just like how many people successfully completed a 12H profection year (age 23), you can do it! The lessons you learnt at 11,23,34,45 will help you! For the very old people, it's the day of judgement for those who did not successfully go through the psychosocial stages that Erik Erikson proposed, they are at stage 8(Integrity vs. Despair).

You can book a consultation with me on Fiverr for $10 in which I give you a mini birth chart reading(can be solar return, profection year or just regular birth chart).

I also offer Human Design readings on Fiverr from $20 here

#pluto in aquarius #astrology #collective reading #placidus #age of aquarius #patreon #birth chart #profection year #solar return #fiverr astrologer

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coasting-on-a-wave-of-apathy · 19 days ago

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Vampire Legacy Rewrite

This is a rewrite of @simbonez Shadow Moon Legacy challenge, mostly done to bring it up to modern packs, and to make a bit more sense with my particular play style. This isn't my original challenge (though I did create generation 6), so this may not make the most sense, but I tried my best to recreate it with its original vibes, and to keep it interesting! (i'm only really posting this for the sake of easy access to it on my part, so I might end up un-uploading it, especially if its thought to be in poor taste).

I haven't play tested this yet, so let me know if there is any conflicts in any of the rules!

Base rules:

Whenever a 'coven' is mentioned, use the get together clubs to represent these.

Max out careers and skills (unless it is mentioned to be unnecessary)

Play on any lifespan you wish

Every generation must be a vampire

You do not have to have children with a vampire in every generation (unless stated otherwise), but for the sake of keeping generation 6 interesting, I would say stick to either vampiric or human blood for whoever you choose to have children with

No generation has a set gender

I have given each generation a set colour, but this is just for fun and not something you have to stick to!

Generation 1 - The Founder (Red)

You're a sim that's obsessed with everything vampiric. Growing up, you where always ambitious, wanting to have power anyway you could. And know you know just how you'll do it - and how you'll maintain your success for generations to come.

Aspiration: Vampire family

Traits: Ambitious, Self-Absorbed, Insider

Career: None

Skills: Painting, Writing, Gardening

Goals:

Live in forgotten hollow

Must start as a human sim and be turned into a vampire

Build your fortune using without any employment (as immortals need to remain unknown from the human world)

Have at least two biological children, and bring in at least two people into your vampire family (through turning)

Paint a portrait of each person in your coven (through reference paintings)

Generation 2 - The Successor (Purple)

Being brought up in a large family meant there was plenty competition, and you are no stranger to attempting to please your parents and their expectations. You vow to become the leader of your familial coven, no matter who you have to step on to get there.

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Traits: Perfectionist, Snob, Proper

Career: Military

Skills: Logic, Pipe Organ, Fitness

Goals:

Live in forgotten hollow

Become the leader of your coven

Marry a 'Pureblood' vampire (one that was not turned, but born as a vampire)

Have at least two children, the first will be your 'false heir'

Give your first born child the most attention (gain top friendship with them, mentor them in skills, etc.)

Have a negative relationship with the generation 3 child

Generation 3 - The Rebel (Green)

You grew up in your older siblings shadow, and whilst it's what you're used to, it's certainly something you're not happy about. Your family's lack of attention to you at the expense on their heir made you resentful, and you decide to leave, and resolve to live your life as far away from them as possible. Suddenly, you can understand why the humans call your nature a curse.

Aspiration: Good vampire

Traits: Socially Awkward, Gloomy, Good

Career: Gardener

Skills: Gardening, Charisma, Cooking

Goals:

Leave forgotten hollow

Never feed from humans

Marry a human

Grow a cowplant

Keep your vampirism a secret from your spouse and children (practically, there is no way to do this, so just avoid feeding or using powers in front of them, do not take weakness that are visible to them, and do not go in the sunlight)

Generation 4 - The Icon (Yellow)

After your young adult birthday, you are informed of your parent's occult origins. This peaks your interest, and you being to explore where you came from. You find one of the worst sights imaginable - a bunch of people who still dress like they're in the 1800s! Makeover, stat!

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante

Traits: Outgoing, Creative, Party Animal

Career: Style influencer

Skills: Vampire lore, Dancing, Charisma

Goals:

Give 10 vampires (excluding your parent) a makeover after becoming friends with them

Release your parent from their immortality by creating the vampire cure and gifting it to them

Throw a party every week

Have at least one child that isn't parented by your partner

Generation 5 - The Recluse (Grey)

You grew up surrounded by many extravagant - and very loud - people, and frankly, you've always hated it. You much prefer the company of animals, and you pledge your immortal life to helping them. Oh, and to owning as many animals as possible - especially cats.

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Traits: Loner, Cat Lover, Hates Children

Career: Veterinarian

Skills: Pet training, Horse Riding, Handiness

Goals:

Always own at least two pets, and one of those has to be a cat

Run a night vet

Always repair broken items manually, never replace them

Place in the horse championship (I've never played with this pack, so this may change)

Only have relationships with people that have some sort of 'Animal Lover' trait (Cat, Dog, Horse, Animal Enthusiast, etc.)

Only have one child

Generation 6 - The Curious (Blue)

Growing up surrounded by animals, you crave the company of others desperately. But your interest becomes peaked by the idea of the occult, and of meeting others that are like you - vampiric or otherwise. And with these newfound friends, comes a desire to better the world.

Aspiration: Friend of the world

Traits: Outgoing, Adventurous, Freegan

Career: Civil Designer

Skills: Medium, Selvadoradian culture, Fabrication

Goals:

Marry and have a child with an occult that isn't a vampire

Become good friends with one of every occult type

Restore Sulani to its former glory

Live in a haunted house your whole adult life

Generation 7 - The Gifted (Orange)

A child with many talents, you grew up split between worlds. You never felt at home in either occult worlds of your parents, especially with your particularly selfish wants. You let life move you along, content to not have a strong impact upon this world. Overall, you just want to left alone to fill your days with interesting things - like play your guitar, and your child.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Unflirty, music lover, lazy

Career: Salary person - you do not have to max this career

Skills: Guitar, DJ mixing, Video Gaming

Goals:

Stay single your whole life (never marry, live with or possess a partner)

Have one child

Stay out of the spotlight your whole life

Write seven songs, never publish them

Gain the indoorsy lifestyle

Gen 8- The Mother (Pink)

Growing up you where the apple of your parent's eye. You had everything you ever wanted. However, due to an accident - blamed on your muddy occult origins - at a young age, you can never bear children. You insist that you will spend your life caring for all those with similar origins, trying to give them the love you experienced from your parent.

Aspiration: Successful lineage

Traits: Childish, Erratic, Neat

Career: Education

Skills: Wellness, Parenting, Knitting

Goals:

Bear no biological children (you can have pregnancies, but none can be carried to term)

Have at least 3 adopted children of various occult origins (no humans allowed)

Always wear dresses

Volunteer at least once a week

Never reveal how you obtained your heir to anyone, even themselves (whether that be through magical conjuring - like through the wishing well - or through adoption or any other means)

Gen 9 - The Engima (Black)

No one really knows where you came from. Adopted, found in the wild, or maybe even made of pure magic? No one knows, and your mother certainly won't tell. But no one really trusts you, or your mysterious origins, so you often wonder if there is a reason for your existence. However, you find that you have a natural talent for all the things found in the darkness - whether that be Mischief or even vampiric lore. A secret vampire coven takes you under their wing, and you never have to look back.

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Traits: Evil, Family-Orientated, Active

Career: Criminal

Skills: Vampire lore, Mischief, Mixology

Goals:

Leave your family unit and have negative relationships with them after reaching adulthood

Always own 2 'guard' dogs

Own a home that is valued over £200,00 simoleons

Marry a coworker

Best best friends with your heir (until they reach the teen lifestage)

Generation 10- The Fairytale (White)

Being brought up in a tight-knit coven wasn't the greatest for your love life, and despite how open your parent has been about their job and your eventual role in their coven, you've only ever cared to keep your head in a book. You've always wished for someone to whisk you away from this life, and into one of true romance. But when faced with your perfect match, can you maintain that fantasy?

Aspiration: Soulmate

Traits: Jealous, Romantic, Bookworm

Career: Romantic consultant

Skills: Romance, Piano, Writing

Goals:

Have top grades throughout school

Run away from home as a teen with a partner

Break up with your first partner after aging up into a young adult

Marry and then divorce at least once

Do not marry your permanent partner until you are an elder

Write a book for every romance you have

#sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #shadow moon legacy #sims 4 shadow moon legacy #sims 4 challenge rewrite

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wazzappp · 8 months ago

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It's my dad's birthday weekend so my family rented a place by the lake and HOOGH is it giving me ideas for the safe house Robbie and Gabe would be staying at between RE7 and RE 8.

I want to change some stuff about the safe house itself (specifically I want it to be by the water). Maybe fewer stairs (just in case Gabe has some trouble adjusting). It's still in Spain of course we still need RE8 to happen, still in the woods, just with a lake!

After about 2 days of interviews (interrogations) to figure out exactly WHAT happened the BSAA makes their decision what to do with the boys. They're told they're getting relocated. Congratulations! It's not a choice.

They're shipped out on a plane to some place they don't know the name of and introduced to a house they've never seen before. There's a lady showing them around like she's trying to sell it to them. It's an older place but with new furnishings. It's nice and cozy. Two floors, fireplaces for the winter, two bedrooms and two bathrooms (Gabe is EXTATIC about that bit he gets HIS OWN BATHROOM. Robbies not really mad about it either). The top area is a living room with a kitchen dining room deck and a bedroom with a bathroom. Downstairs is an additional bedroom and bathroom with its own smaller deck. The backyard is a bit of a mess with two distinct areas. The garden (facing the lake with an artificial beach and dock) and a running around area (overrun with tall grass. The people who lived there before hadnt bothered to weed or mow. Or hadn't been there in a while). There's also a garage (the lady mentions There's also a fixer upper car in there.) There's also a town not to far away (they'll need to ask for permission to leave).

Groceries are delivered each week with instructions for how to cook the meals inside (if they want to switch to pre-made all they need to do is ask) along with a weekly allowance of what robbie made in about a month working at Canelos for any extra stuff they might want. It's perfect. Robbie is scheming for how to get away immediately.

But suddenly he realizes the wall to stop erosion on the small beach is starting to fail and Gabe has been loving being in the water so much. So he takes a couple of rocks and spends a day moving them around to fix it. The fixer upper in the garage has some unique problems of its own too, and if he ever wants to get to town he should really take care of that. And they have the money now so he orders Gabe all the ninja wolf memorabilia he could want. Games and books and action figures the whole deal. Pretty soon posters are all over his walls.

The meals are good too. Gabes finally approaching a good bodyweight and he's using it to explore the woods nearby and he's taken an interest in cleaning up the garden. Robbie realizes the more grassy area would make an EXCELLENT shooting range for practice (he was caught off guard. He wont be EVER again). He asks about it and the handlers say they'll see what they can do. Sending someone to 'train him' (supervise) while he tries new things and sets up targets. Sometimes he even has Gabe move pulleys around so he can practice shooting moving targets. They still dont trust him, but to appease his want for a morning routine of shooting practice they let him keep a handgun. Gabe is able to call some of his friends on occasion (monitored of course) and tell them a bit about what life is like now. They feel distant but hey. Better than nothing.

It's sort of hard to think about leaving now (especially after Gabe starts practicing his abilities in the garden. Especially after Robbie cuts himself on accident while cooking and sees it heal right before his eyes. When he starts to wonder if it's a good move to keep him away from other people).

The BSAA has managed to strike a balance between 'allowing them to recover' and 'keeping them busy enough that they won't WANT to escape or fall into any post traumatic depression (hey they can't really control that but they can t r y). Keeping the boys together, monitored, and away from people they can infect is their best move. Regular doctors visits help to monitor their mutations. They're both still infected and the BSAA knows that. But it's worth more to keep them alive as possible assets than to destroy the first real example of a stable biowepon.

#having THOUGHTS i am THINKING #they deserve to be happy even if its just for a little while and under heavy surveillance #ghost rider re7 au #robbie reyes #gabe reyes #i will not make a floorplan of the safehouse. making a floorplan of the safe house is the sanity killer

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 1 year ago

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Camp Wanamaker (Ch. 4/10)

July 8, 2023

Notes - As I said in my last post, I finished this earlier than expected and, honestly, I'm glad I did. However, all it did was drive my desire to write legitimately anything else 😫 I also have come to the realization that this month will be particularly busy for me as I now have to help with my church's summer program on top of work and everything. I still plan on getting things done, but it might take a bit more effort than usual, that's all. Anyway, there are quite a few parts in this chapter that I changed from the original idea, but I like this outcome far better, so I suppose it was worth it in the end haha.

Chapter 4 - Suddenly I See

The gentle breeze that blew in through the open window filled the small bedroom with the warmth of summer and the faint smell of the nearby lake. Water lapped gently against the shore, and for a fleeting moment, Carrie was sure she had fallen asleep on the beach. However, as crystalline blue eyes peeled open and stared up at the wooden logs that made up the ceiling of her room, she realized the truth. She was still at Camp Wanamaker, still holed up in her room after a long night on the beach. From what she could recall, the night before had been full of excitement - sitting around the small fire they had made on the beach after dinner in the mess hall, listening to everyone rant and rave about their experiences throughout the week.

Distantly, she recalled Vivien’s aunts arriving at camp and listening to stories of the different shows they had gone to see and the adventures they had gone on during their time away. The women divulged their new roles at the camp, and while Carrie was glad she and Riven had another set of hands willing to help them in the playhouse, she was more excited to get to know Charlie and her side of the events Vivien had told the blonde about prior. If things truly did transpire the way Vivien said they did, Charlie was in a similar position with Vivien as Carrie was with Royce and Bentley. With any luck, the older woman would have some insight into how to handle things with the two boys. The pink-haired woman was approachable and had seemed keen to talk with her at the campfire, supposedly having heard all about Carrie from Vivien’s never-ending calls and text messages, so Carrie could only hope the woman wouldn’t mind her prying.

Making her way to the window to see what the day had in store, Carrie sighed; she would do just about anything to find some sort of common ground with Miles’ brothers. Miles adored the boys with every fiber of his being, and while Carrie knew their bond was strong, it was exceedingly difficult to get either of the younger Murphy boys to talk with her unless they absolutely had to. Bentley was somewhat easier to converse with - approaching the blonde more than once in the playhouse during their stay at the camp and allowing the conversations to flow between them like water. Royce, on the other hand, was more standoffish. While their time together in the kitchen during their trial week had gone well, and they had gotten past whatever invisible barrier was between them enough that Royce hadn’t insulted her under his breath or made any snide comments during their time together, things had reached a bit of a stalemate. He hadn’t outright done or said anything against her since then, but then again, they hadn’t really had much time to spend together since the campers had begun arriving at camp.

Well, Carrie couldn’t exactly say that. She had plenty of time. The playhouse was still being set up, the actors hadn’t been chosen yet, and the script was being worked on still, so those in the playhouse had been allotted more time in the afternoons to do as they pleased than most of the others. Riven had told her not to worry about not spending the whole day in the playhouse at first, as it was fairly normal, so she had spent most of her free time either in the music hall, exploring the camp, or hanging around the snack stand by the pool, talking with Erica and Jade who had taken a liking to having someone other than Noah, the lifeguard, to talk with. It was only after watching him spend the whole week wandering the grounds on his own that she realized that she could have spent her afternoons with Bentley, keeping him company and helping him find things to do while everyone else was busy.

Miles had confided in her that Bentley wasn’t fond of being alone, the same way Vivien wasn’t, and while Carrie knew Vivien was fine in the music hall with Miles all day, Bentley had been left practically alone, spending time in the art barn or wandering camp like a lost puppy. She wondered if Bentley would mind her tagging along until things were done at the playhouse. Grabbing some clothes to change into and making her way to the bathroom to get ready for the day, Carrie took in a slow, relaxing breath and smiled to herself. She wouldn’t know the answer until she asked.

Once Carrie had readied herself for the day, she made her way to the living room, where she found the trio who somehow always managed to be up at the crack of dawn as well as Vivien’s birth mother and the woman’s wife. The children had taken up some of the couch cushions whilst Hayley and Charlie filled a loveseat with ease; Charlie’s legs draped over Hayley’s thighs as the pair talked about their trip and showed the three teenagers some pictures. Charlie, as she was facing the hallway where the bedrooms were, was the first to notice Carrie’s arrival, giving the blonde a brilliant smile and a waving wiggle of her fingers.

Carrie waved in return, perching herself on the arm of the couch with a smile as she said, “You guys are up early.”

“We usually get up early to get in a few laps at the pool,” Hayley claimed, “but we saw these three were up when we walked by, so we chose to stay and talk for a while instead.”

Vivien turned toward Carrie with a smile and explained, “They were just about to give me a sneak peek at what they got me while they were on vacation.”

Charlie shook her head with a smile, “Nice try, sunshine.”

“You’re not getting anything out of us until your birthday,” Hayley stated.

“But my birthday isn’t for another month,” Vivien complained. “You can’t just tell me that you got me something epic and not expect me to try to find out what it is!”

“We can and we will,” Charlie said. “All you need to know is that you’ll absolutely love it, no matter how long it takes you to find out.”

Slumping in her seat with an overdramatic huff, Vivien let her head fall onto Royce’s shoulder as she whined, “You try, Rolls. They like you more than me.”

With a snort, Royce smirked, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Depends on the day,” Hayley quipped with a shrug, earning a gasp of disbelief from her niece.

Turning to Bentley next, Vivien pleaded, “Bentley, you’ll help me, right?”

Bentley’s gaze fell on the two women who watched him with matching smirks, and he smiled in return before turning back toward Vivien. “Sorry, Viv, I don’t think it’ll work. They’d see right through me.”

In a last-ditch effort, Vivien pushed herself from the couch and draped her arms around Carrie’s shoulders, mustering her best puppy eyes as she peered at the blonde. “Carrie,” she began, an almost wounded tone in her voice, “you love me, don’t you?”

Snickering as she brought an arm around Vivien, Carrie nodded, “Sometimes I wonder why, but yes, I do.”

“In that case, will you please help me get some information out of those two very mean ladies over there?” Vivien pleaded, batting her eyelashes at the blonde in the vain hope that it would convince the actress to help.

“These ‘mean ladies’ can hear you, you little shit,” Hayley said, amusement clear in her tone.

Carrie chuckled as she glanced at Vivien’s aunts. Finding Vivien’s eyes once more, Carrie stage whispered, “I think they might already know you’re trying to get me to help.”

Letting her head hit Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien sighed, “Well, damn.”

Smiling at the brunette, Carrie patted Vivien on the back and suggested, “Maybe you can try roping Miles into helping you. You know he’s weak when it comes to those eyes of yours.”

Reviving almost instantly, Vivien beamed, “Maybe I’ll add in a little nickname or two - that always breaks him.”

“Like a twig,” Carrie nodded.

Vivien squeezed Carrie as tightly as she could, thanking her before bounding off down the hall to where Carrie knew her boyfriend was still likely fast asleep. Shaking her head as she let out a soft laugh, Charlie brought Carrie’s attention back to the present as she spoke, “Some things never change.”

Hayley nodded beside her, “And, for some reason, I’m grateful she’s one of those things.”

Deciding then was her chance to get some information from Charlie, Carrie asked, “Has she always been so close with the two of you?”

Charlie let out a bark of laughter, “Definitely not with me.”

The pink-haired woman had Bentley’s attention almost instantly as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Instead of allowing the woman beside her to answer, Hayley spoke, “Viv and I have always been close, but things between her and Charlie weren’t always sunshine and daisies.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘sunshine and roses’?” Royce wondered.

“It is,” Charlie nodded, patting her wife’s arm as she spoke, “but Hails here hates roses.”

Royce made a noise of understanding as Carrie spoke up, “You guys seem to get along really well, though.”

“We do now,” Charlie agreed. “At first, though, it was like a constant battle.”

“Vivien was a feisty little spitfire,” Hayley smiled, thinking back on the days when her niece would glare daggers at the woman she now adored, hoping the pink-loving woman would leave so that she could spend time with her aunt.

“‘Was’?” Charlie chuckled. “That little shit did everything short of arson to try to make the two of us break up.”

“She was nothing if not determined,” Hayley sighed. “Between her picking fights, starting screaming matches, and the endless silent treatments, I was sure you would eventually get sick of her nonsense and leave once you’d had enough of dealing with her.”

Charlie beamed, proud of the fact that she had stuck it out through Vivien’s roughest years, “But I’m still here almost ten years later.”

“That you are,” Hayley smiled.

Bentley’s eyes slid from the woman to his brother as he tried to nudge Royce in the side without being caught. The story sounded all too familiar, and, if Bentley had noticed the similarities, he was sure Royce had too. Vivien hadn’t always been close with Charlie, just the same as they weren’t close at all with Carrie. If Charlie had somehow managed to gain Vivien’s trust over time, did that mean that, eventually, they would find some sort of friendship with Carrie if she stayed with Miles? Were they truly living through the same thing Vivien had years prior?

Wide blue eyes met a pair of fiercely determined caramel ones as Royce turned to Bentley with a hardened stare. Although Bentley knew Royce wasn’t entirely ready to give up their efforts to break Carrie away from Miles, he hoped his brother wouldn’t go too far. Swallowing as Royce allowed his focus to drift back onto the conversation around them, Bentley let his gaze fall onto the hands he had kept in his lap. Maybe talking with Vivien and Charlie would give him better insight into how things changed over time. If anything, he could at least learn what had happened to make things switch so drastically. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Throughout breakfast, Bentley tried to pay attention to anything Charlie and Vivien said, hoping for something that could help him figure out what had changed between them. To his dismay, however, any conversation was drowned out by the others at the table who chose to talk about the upcoming week and what they were planning on doing while the kids were up in the woods for their wilderness week. As Vivien stood to bring her tray up to the counter, Bentley rose from his seat under the premise of getting another glass of juice and followed his brunette friend up to the counter.

Glancing toward Bentley and smiling, Vivien said, “Hey, Ben. You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.”

The unspoken question of his well-being was obvious, and Bentley sighed, “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About what?” Vivien asked as she handed her tray to the person behind the counter.

“You and Charlie,” he resigned. Making sure Vivien was following him, Bentley headed for the table of pitchers filled with different drinks as he continued, “She said you two weren’t always as close as you are now, and it got me thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” Vivien pressed, her eyebrow raising as she grabbed a cup from the stand.

Bentley nodded as he poured some apple juice into his cup, “Is there any way we could talk about what happened?”

“Of course,” Vivien smiled. “Do you want Charlie there too, or just me?”

After thinking for a moment, Bentley took a sip of his drink and said, “Just you, I think. I want to get to see both sides of it on my own.”

“Smart,” Vivien acknowledged with a nod. “Where do you want to talk?”

Bentley took in a breath as they began heading back toward their table, “I don’t know. Do you know any place where we can just sit without worrying about anyone interrupting?”

A smile spread across Vivien’s face as she nodded once again, “I do. Meet me up at the main office after breakfast, and we’ll go somewhere private.”

Curious as to where Vivien planned on taking him, Bentley nodded silently and made his way to his side of the table as they approached it. Vivien didn’t stay at the table for long, giving the others a brief farewell before declaring she was going to help her grandparents come up with a schedule for a few weeks out. With her presence gone from the table, it was only a matter of time before everyone else filed away. Hayley left soon after to meet up with the other lifeguards and get a feel for how they had started running things. Carrie, Riven, and Charlie were the next to leave as they had to make their way to the playhouse early so that they could start working more on the set designs for the play.

As the others began to leave, Bentley took his tray to the counter and handed it off before departing from the mess hall. The walk to the main hall was fairly short, but Bentley was sidetracked easily by the camp’s loyal guardian, who walked alongside him as he entered the office. It was easy for him to find Vivien as Ding took the lead, guiding him through the hall to an open door. Knocking on the frame of the door, Bentley alerted the trio inside to his presence and found himself practically pulled inside as Vivien excitedly waved him toward the desk she was sitting at.

Looking over the calendar on the desk, Bentley asked, “What’s all this?”

“The camp schedule,” Dawn replied. Sliding her finger from the second of July to the eighth, she said, “This week is wilderness week. Most of the campers will be hiking the trails up through the mountain, and the camp will be practically empty apart from meal times. Next week,” she slid her finger across the week below, “is a break week where it's just staff here for cleaning and prep for the next three weeks. The week after next week is Color Wars.”

“Color Wars?” Bentley wondered.

Vivien nodded, a beaming smile taking over her concentrated expression as she explained, “Color Wars is where we’re divided into four colors - red, yellow, green, or blue - and we fight to earn the most points throughout the week. The color team with the most points by Friday wins.”

“It’s one of the few weeks where we don’t have a program at the end of the week,” George added. “Everyone is too busy fighting for points that they don’t spend much time doing much else.”

Bentley smiled; it sounded like fun. “How many weeks do you guys have planned out?”

“We have a basic outline of the whole summer,” Dawn claimed. “Most weeks don’t have a special theme until we decide to add one. We’re trying to figure out a few more activity weeks this morning.”

“So far,” Vivien began, nudging her glasses further up her nose as she read, “we have wilderness week, Color Wars, and sports week.”

“That’s it?” Bentley asked. “Aren’t there, like, seven or eight more weeks of camp?”

Vivien nodded, turning her gaze back onto Bentley as she asked, “Any ideas?”

Bentley thought for a while. He had never thought of things to do at camp as he had assumed they had everything under control already. Chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, Bentley offered, “How about a murder mystery?”

“How do you mean?” George asked.

“Like a game of Clue in real life,” Bentley shrugged. “The counselors dress up as their own made-up characters and act out a murder mystery at every meal. It gives the campers something to work together to solve during the day and makes them all super quiet during meals so they pay attention.”

Beaming, Vivien said, “On Friday, they could put together the final show, and everyone could see if they had things right.”

“Exactly,” Bentley declared.

Scribbling down the idea and the concepts the children had pieced together, Dawn said, “Maybe we should get you to help us more often, Bentley.”

“We could always use another creative mind to work things out,” George acknowledged. “Now, what did you come in for?”

“Viv said to meet her here,” Bentley admitted.

Dawn turned to her granddaughter and asked, “Is that why you asked for the keys?”

Vivien nodded, “Yeah. Can we go?”

“Go ahead,” George said with a wave of his hand. “Just be back before dinner.”

Chuckling as she pushed herself up from her office chair, Vivien smiled, “We all know I’m not going to miss out on spaghetti.”

“Have fun, you two,” Dawn said with a grin as she watched Vivien take Bentley by the hand and pull him out of the room.

“We will,” Vivien called in return as she made their exit as swift as possible. Once they were out of the main office, she led Bentley toward the car she had left parked in the shade of a large oak tree and released him so that he could climb into his side of the car.

Slipping into the passenger seat, Bentley asked, “Where are we going?”

“Just up the road,” Vivien replied.

“Couldn’t we have walked there?”

“If you feel like walking for almost an hour uphill in ninety-degree weather.”

“Nevermind,” Bentley relented, grabbing his seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Didn’t think so,” Vivien snickered as she tugged her seatbelt tighter and slid the key into the ignition.

Vivien’s car started with a hum, and she pulled back out of her parking spot before throwing the car into drive and heading toward the camp’s exit. As opposed to Butchy’s truck, the smaller car had terrible suspension and bounced around the unpaved road like a pinball. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for them to reach the end of the road, but the pair sat at the end of the road for a moment, allowing their jostled bodies a moment of rest before Vivien flicked on her blinker and pulled out of the driveway.

Bentley looked around at the scenery, taking in the view of the rest of the town as they pulled past the tree line and into an area of good clarity. The houses on the street were few and far apart, but luxurious all the same. A few had large walls of windows, while others sported pillars on the porches and bushes that looked like the puffs of a freshly-groomed poodle. How people had so much money, he’d never know, but it was nice to look at, all the same. As the car slowed and Vivien, once again, put on her blinker, Bentley glanced at the indicator on the dash before looking toward the large house that sat fairly far back from the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Vivien turned into the driveway.

“Heading somewhere nobody else will find us,” she replied.

As Vivien rolled to a stop before the house, Bentley asked, “You know the people who own this place?”

“I sure hope so,” she snorted in return, turning the car off with a grin. “You do too.”

Confused, Bentley turned to Vivien with a raised brow, “Since when?”

“Well,” Vivien drawled, “you met my grandparents a few weeks ago.”

“Your grandparents own this place?!” Bentley asked in astonishment, gaping up at the large building before them.

“Partially,” Vivien confirmed. “Besides, you’ve known me for almost a year now, so I’d say you’ve known the owners for about that long.”

As Vivien popped open her door and climbed out of the car, Bentley was quick to follow, trying to sort through Vivien’s words as the brunette moved to the front door and slid a key into the lock. “So, let me get this straight, you and your grandparents own this huge house?”

“They’ve had it for a long time,” Vivien nodded. “They put me on the deed for it last year so that, when they move out, it stays in the family.”

As Vivien pulled the key from the door, Bentley asked, “How come they didn’t give it to your parents or your aunts?”

“My parents plan on going their separate ways once Abby and Olly move out,” Vivien sighed as she stepped into the house. “Aunt Hayley and Charlie, on the other hand, actually encouraged them to give it to me.”

“Do you plan on moving in?” Bentley asked as he followed Vivien inside and looked around.

“Probably,” Vivien shrugged as she closed the front door. “I don’t really need all the space, but it’ll be nice to be able to have people stay over and stuff.”

“Like us?” Bentley asked.

Vivien hummed, making sure Bentley was following her as she made her way toward the kitchen. “Exactly. I want a place for everyone to stay and enjoy themselves.”

While his friend opened the refrigerator and searched for something to drink, Bentley looked around. Despite the center island holding a bowl full of what looked like a tower of Oreos and the refrigerator being covered in artwork that had clearly been done by a small child, there was still a chandelier hanging above the marble countertops and a large wine fridge that showed just how expensive everything was. He couldn’t picture Vivien in such a luxurious place. Sure, her family had money - far more than Bentley could probably imagine - but Vivien never seemed to care about spending sprees or extravagant items.

A hand waved in front of Bentley’s face, and as he jumped, Vivien chuckled, pushing a can of soda into his hand before walking away. “Come on,” she instructed.

Bentley trailed behind at a slower pace, hoping to soak everything in as he went. Eventually, they came to a room with a large television mounted on the wall and a large, plush couch that enveloped them in comfort as they sat. Vivien popped open her can and took a long drag from it before setting it on the coffee table and turning toward the blond she had dragged up to the house, silently urging him to say what had been on his mind. Bentley followed her lead, taking a sip of his drink and setting it aside before clearing his throat and asking, “What happened between you and Charlie?”

“The two of them started going out when I was maybe eight or nine,” Vivien began. “Before that, I had spent as much time as possible with Aunt Hayley. She had taken me out to museums and concerts and it really helped me a lot while my parents were busy doing other things.”

As though he still feared being heard by someone, Bentley muttered, “Sounds like how Miles kept us busy until he moved.”

“It probably felt pretty similar,” Vivien nodded. Taking in a deep breath, she continued, “Anyway, when she told me she’d found someone over the summer, I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. I didn’t want to give up the time I had with her just so that some other person could come into the picture.”

Bentley’s gaze met Vivien’s as she waited for him to ask any questions he had. It was uncanny, really, the similarities he could see between himself, Royce, and Vivien. Instead of asking his friend a question, Bentley said, “You didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t,” Vivien agreed. “She’s the embodiment of the color pink, and Aunt Hayley, at the time, was this hipster who clung to her camera for dear life. I thought my aunt would go for someone cool and edgy, not Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony.”

“Sounds familiar,” Bentley mused with a sigh. “Is that why you found it so easy to befriend Carrie when you first met - because you had already found common ground with Charlie?”

“In a way,” Vivien admitted with a smile, “but it wasn’t easy to find that common ground with Charlie.”

“How come?”

“Because I didn’t make it easy,” Vivien stated, reaching for her drink once more. “I pushed her away and tried everything in my power to make one of them leave the other.”

Bentley’s eyebrow rose as he observed his closest friend, “Somehow, I can’t picture you doing that.”

“Be glad you can’t,” Vivien sighed. “I was a demon spawn, and everyone who was there can attest to it.”

Nodding, Bentley relaxed into the couch cushion and asked, “So, what changed?”

“We both did,” Vivien claimed. “Aunt Hayley left me alone with Charlie one day. She took me to the carnival in town and, after spinning around in the tea cups until I threw up, I took out all my frustrations on her.”

“What happened?”

“I won’t pretend I was nice,” Vivien chuckled humorlessly. “After trying so hard to get her to leave and fighting to get things to go my way, I just had enough, and I slapped her.”

“And she let you?” Bentley pressed, bewildered at the thought.

“I was eight and had weak wrists,” Vivien stated dryly, “it didn’t hurt. It’s the only time I’ve ever hit someone, and while I wasn’t proud of it, she gave me a taste of my own medicine soon after.”

Bentley was sure his eyes couldn’t widen any further than they already had as he pressed, “She hit you?”

“It wasn’t as much of a hit as it was a pat on the cheek, but it knocked some sense into me,” Vivien admitted with a smile. “When we got home after a super quiet car ride, we apologized in our own ways and smacked each other around with pillows while we aired our respective grievances. In the end, we found that we had more in common with each other than we thought we would.”

“What happened when Hayley came home?” Bentley asked softly.

Vivien chuckled, “By that time, we had cleaned everything up, made some ice cream sundaes, and begun watching Harry Potter.”

Bentley smiled, a soft laugh falling from him as he asked, “Was she upset with how things came to be?”

“I think she was too happy about us finally getting along that she never once questioned why it happened so quickly,” Vivien pondered. “It was the first time in two years that I had seen Charlie as something other than my enemy and I think Aunt Hayley was just glad she didn’t have to keep me from trying to break them up all the time.”

“Do you think that’s what could happen with us and Carrie?” Bentley asked hesitantly.

“Maybe,” Vivien spoke, “if you play your cards right.”

The blond sighed; he certainly had a lot to think about. Taking a sip of his drink, Bentley realized that he now had to get Royce on the same train of thought. It wouldn’t be easy - in fact, Bentley was sure that getting an angry cat to take a bath would be easier - but if Vivien’s relationship with Charlie was anything to go by, they all would be happier in the end. He just had to figure out how to go about it.

While campers filled the camp the next day, finding their places in their cabins and figuring out which group they would be in for their wilderness trips, Bentley found it easier to hide away from the crowds. Holing himself in the art barn, Bentley pulled an easel over to where he had planned on sitting and unwrapped a canvas to place atop the wooden stand, grateful to have all of the art supplies to himself for once. Gathering a rolling tray full of watercolor paints and acrylics, Bentley wheeled them over to where he planned to relax and had just perched himself on his stool when the door to the art barn opened. Letting out a sigh, Bentley slowly leaned to the side, glancing around his canvas to see who had disturbed his solitude.

Instead of finding himself frustrated by the person, Bentley discovered a smile tugging at his lips as he waved at Vivien’s biological mother. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you would be guarding the pool.”

The woman chuckled, ditching her hoodie on a chair as she grabbed a smock from the hangers on the wall, “I would if there was a reason to. The groups just headed out for the woods, so there’s nobody looking to swim right now.”

“Ah,” Bentley breathed, wetting his brush in the cup of water he’d set to the side before dipping it into a pan of blue watercolor paint. “So you wanted to come down here?”

“I did,” Hayley nodded, grabbing a paintbrush and twisting her hair around it before sticking it into place. “I enjoy coming in to paint or work on embroidery in my free time.”

As if the woman didn’t already have a portion of Bentley’s attention, she sure did now. Bentley watched as the woman pulled up an easel and canvas of her own, setting up some gouache paints and gathering a container full of threads before sitting near Bentley with a smile. Bentley gave a smile in return before focusing on his work once more. Sparing glimpses at the woman, he wondered briefly if Vivien had gotten her entire style from the woman. They both seemed to favor old band shirts, had wrists full of bracelets, and, to top it all off, they both had bangs of some sort. With how similar they looked, Bentley wouldn’t be surprised if, by the time Vivien was the woman’s age, she still dressed like her role model.

If the woman knew Bentley was observing her, she never said anything, but as Bentley dragged his brush across the canvas before him, he couldn’t help saying, “Vivien told me what happened between her and Charlie.”

The woman’s forest green eyes found Bentley with ease as she cleaned her brush and asked, “Oh yeah?”

Bentley nodded, “I think she thinks it will make me and Royce try to be better with Carrie this summer.”

Chuckling, Hayley swiped her brush across the painting before her and asked, “Is it working?”

“I don’t think it’s working on Royce much at all,” Bentley admitted, “but I also don’t think he’s asked much about it.”

“You have,” the woman presumed. When Bentley nodded, she smiled, “I’m not surprised. You seem to be the curious type.”

“I do?”

“You do.”

Humming, Bentley returned to his art as he thought about the woman’s words. He had always been curious - something Miles constantly reminded him was a thing he needed to be cautious with so he didn’t get in trouble - but something about the way Hayley said it made him wonder if he had pried too far in asking Vivien to tell him everything. Choosing to inadvertently speak his mind, Bentley cleared his brush once more and said, “Miles says that it’s good that I like to ask questions, but that I need to be careful not to push too far.”

“Solid advice,” Hayley remarked as she glanced over at the boy, “but you don’t have to worry about that with me or Hayley. We’re open books to practically everyone.”

Grateful the woman had answered his silent question, Bentley smiled and asked, “Since I already know Vivien’s side of the story, can I ask you what yours is?”

Hayley smiled at the blond as she dipped her brush into a pale green paint, “Of course, but I thought you would want Charlie’s more than mine.”

“I’ll get to her sooner or later,” Bentley decided. “I just figured that it might be easier to see things how I’m sure Miles sees them.”

“Miles is the one dating Carrie, right?” Hayley asked. “The tall one with the bright blue eyes who relies on coffee more than all of the cops in America?”

Snickering at the woman’s description of his brother, Bentley nodded, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Ah,” Hayley breathed. She took a moment to think, adding a few swipes of color to her work before beginning, “At first, I thought it would be the best thing in the world. I could bring the person I love most in this world and my favorite little person together.”

“I can’t imagine Viv being little,” Bentley breathed.

“I meant Charlie,” Hayley said with a smile, absorbing Bentley’s laugh with ease. “Although Vivien is my niece, I still see her as my little girl, and that love runs far deeper than any other - even my love for Charlie.”

“But isn’t Charlie your family too now?” Bentley asked.

“Yes,” Hayley agreed easily, “but I made it very clear from the beginning of our relationship that, even though Vivien isn’t my daughter, she will always take precedence.”

Bentley thought for a while, taking in the woman’s words slowly and allowing himself to process them before slowly speaking, “So even though you loved Charlie, you would give up your relationship just for Vivien?”

“Vivien may not be my daughter,” Hayley began, “but she is my baby, regardless of what the adoption papers say. I would do anything to keep her safe and happy, even if it meant breaking up with Charlie.”

Bentley sat in silence, finding nothing but honesty in the woman’s eyes. If she really felt so strongly, why did she and Charlie stay together despite Vivien’s hatred of the woman? “You would give up everything just like that?”

“Just like that,” Hayley confirmed. “The only reason I didn’t leave Charlie was because of how determined she was to put in the effort and make Vivien like her. I had thought about just throwing in the towel more than once, but her stubbornness and determination kept me from it, and I couldn’t be more grateful that I chose to hold out hope. If I had to guess, that’s probably the same reason Miles is still with Carrie despite both you and Royce not liking her.”

“You think she wants us to like her?”

“I do.” Returning to the artwork before her, Hayley spun her brush, adding a circle of light, almost white, yellow near the top of her canvas. “If she’s anywhere near as determined and headstrong as Charlie is, she won’t be giving up any time soon.”

Bentley knew just how stubborn Carrie could be; he had seen it many times before. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized just how many times over the last nearly two years he had seen Carrie try and fail to bring their relationship to some form of cordiality and how many times Miles begged them to at least try to find common ground with the actress. They had pressed him multiple times about his relationship with the blonde, asking him what he saw in such a woman and how on earth he had gotten to be in a relationship with someone so polar opposite to who they thought he should have been with. Miles had been calm through most of it, handling them and their questions with relative ease and trying to help them figure things out for themselves, but never once did he say anything about willingly breaking things off with her if they wanted him to.

“I don’t think Miles would give up on Carrie for us,” Bentley admitted. “There have been many times when he could have, but he didn’t.”

“Have you asked him to break up with her?”

“No, but we’ve questioned his sanity more than once,” Bentley claimed with a roll of his eyes.

“Vivien never did either, but if she had asked me to, I would have.” A ghost of a smile crossed Hayley’s face as Bentley’s eyes found hers, “In a way, I knew somewhere in Vivien’s mind, she wanted me to, but I held out hope that, someday, she’d see what I saw in Charlie and would begin to love her the way I did. If it didn’t, and she asked me to break things off for some reason, I would have because Vivien comes first to me, even if it comes at the cost of my happiness in a relationship.” Watching to make sure the young boy had taken the information in, Hayley smiled and admitted, “I’m sure your brother would say the same if you asked him.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

The confidence in the woman’s words and the honesty in her eyes gave Bentley pause. How many times had his brother contemplated giving up his relationship with Carrie just to appease them? If he was dealing with the same thing Hayley had, it had probably been far more than just once or twice. Taking in a deep breath, Bentley stared at his unfinished artwork and realized that, sooner rather than later, he would have to sit down with his brother and try to air his concerns. With any luck, he’d hear something similar to what Hayley had divulged. Then, as he glanced out the nearby window at the playhouse across the walking path, Bentley realized that if he wanted to see every side of the relationship, that meant he would also have to ask the she-devil herself. Great, Bentley sighed to himself, exactly what he didn’t want to do.

Deciding it would be easier to see Miles’ side of things first, Bentley set out for the music hall on Tuesday morning, following his brother up the hill to the old building as they talked about the new Transformers movie they had watched the night before. Though Vivien had initially followed them, she broke off when they reached the part of the trail that split off toward the pool, claiming she wanted to talk with Noah about something before the day went any further. Miles brushed off the girl’s departure and continued talking with Bentley, simply glad to have the chance to spend time with his youngest brother on what was typically a busy day.

By the time they had made it to the music hall, the conversation had shifted topics, and as Bentley perched himself in the cozy armchair Vivien usually claimed, he found himself taking a cautious breath and asking, “Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Miles chuckled as he dropped into his chair.

“Well, yeah,” Bentley said with a roll of his eyes, “but I mean about… something else.”

Noticing the way Bentley’s eyes had drifted and how focused he was on fiddling with his shoelaces, Miles figured the topic had to have been eating at his younger brother, whatever it was. Attempting to make light of the situation, Miles joked, “If this is about how floppy the bacon was this morning, I have to say, I-”

“Miley,” Bentley interrupted curtly, hoping his brother would see the seriousness in his eyes as they met Miles’.

Sensing the importance of the conversation, Miles cleared his throat and turned toward Bentley, “Yeah, baby?”

There it was, the simple word that meant the world to Bentley. Miles had, according to Royce, picked up on the term of endearment from their mother, and, for as long as either of them could remember, they had always been called that. The gravity of a small, four-letter word had struck him more than once, but now, it seemed to have more power behind it - whether Miles knew it or not. Reflecting back on his conversation with Hayley the day before, Bentley recalled her saying that, despite Vivien not being her kid, she was still her baby. In a way, Bentley was sure Miles must have felt something similar after spending so much time practically raising both Royce and himself.

Taking in a breath, Bentley leveled his gaze on his brother and said, “I want to talk with you about Carrie.”

“What about her?” Miles asked, the small smile he had maintained faltering under his brother’s stare.

Despite his impeccable poker face around most other people, Miles wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to his brothers, his guard collapsing around him with ease. Though he hated to admit it, Bentley used this information and pinpointed the precise moments when hope left his brother's aquamarine eyes and fear coupled with hurt flooded in. It was easy to tell that Miles knew how serious the conversation was meant to be, and, while Bentley was grateful he was taking it seriously, he didn’t want his brother to be too worried.

Reaching over the gap between their chairs, Bentley took Miles’ hand in his and watched Miles’ tension loosen a fraction, seemingly grateful for his brother's quick squeeze. “Relax,” Bentley gently ordered. “I just want to ask you some stuff.”

“Like what?” Miles pressed in a breath.

Thinking for a moment, Bentley asked, “Are you genuinely happy with her?”

Taken aback by his brother’s question, Miles froze, his eyebrow raising as he replied, “I am; why?”

Avoiding answering, Bentley asked, “Do you want to marry her someday?”

“What?”

“Are you going to have kids?”

“Ben, I-”

“If you do, what happens to me and Royce?”

Startled by the complete curveball he had been thrown, Miles blinked and jerked backward as he sputtered some incoherent, half-sentences, and Bentley continued asking questions he didn’t have answers for. Righting himself, Miles took in a deep breath and took Bentley by the shoulders, cutting him off mid-question to ask, “Benny, what brought this on?”

Swallowing the lump of tension that had formed in his throat, Bentley spoke, “Vivien didn’t like Charlie at first.”

“Okay,” Miles began slowly, wondering where this non sequitur would bring them.

“They got close, and now they’re family,” Bentley continued. Miles nodded, and Bentley resumed his speech, “Charlie and Hayley can’t have kids because they’re two girls, but you and Carrie can.”

As hard as he tried to piece together the puzzle Bentley had dumped out before him, Miles couldn’t find where the two topics correlated. Giving his youngest brother a small, tentative smile, Miles said, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’s just…” Bentley’s voice faded into silence. Then, as he took a breath once more, he met Miles’ eyes and admitted, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Pushing the ball of pressure in his throat down again, Bentley muttered, “You kicking us out.”

Like a piece of glass being smashed in with a baseball, Miles shattered, reaching for Bentley with wide eyes as he stated, “I would never do that to either of you. Who on earth told you that you would get kicked out?”

“It’s only natural,” Bentley said with a shake of his head, taking in a shuddered breath. “If you and Carrie get married and stuff, it won’t be long before we get kicked out so you two can have kids.”

“Bentley,” Miles breathed, but he was quickly cut off by Bentley once more.

“With Hayley and Charlie, Vivien has nothing to worry about unless they adopt, and even then, she doesn’t live with them all the time,” he rambled. “You and Carrie can have kids whenever you want and after how Royce and I have treated her, I wouldn’t be surprised if Carrie convinces you to kick us out to make room for the kids you’ll have and-”

“And, if I thought that was even remotely close to being true,” Miles began, “I would have broken up with her a long time ago.” Using Bentley’s silence as a way to get his point across, Miles squeezed his brother’s hands as he said, “Even though Carrie and I have no intention of having kids any time soon, I know for a fact that the last thing she would do is kick either one of you out. Regardless of whether you see it or not, she does care about you two and is trying so hard to get that point across in any way she can.”

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Bentley asked, “She is?”

Allowing a smile to tug at his lips, Miles nodded, “Far more than you realize. She pays more attention to both of you and your interests than you might realize. Every time I drive her to work, she asks about you and the things you’d gotten up to. If you two would give her the chance to show it, you would be able to see just how deeply she cares.”

With a pensive look in his eyes, Bentley questioned, “Is that why you’ve stayed with her even though we didn’t like her?”

“There’s a list of reasons, but that’s a part of it, sure,” Miles agreed. With a thoughtful smile, he added, “In fact, she offered to lend me her car and give me gas money to pick you both up not long after I got your letter saying that you two had saved the money to come live with me.”

“She did?” Bentley wondered. Though he had tried to see what his oldest brother had seen in the blonde, he had allowed his vision of her to have been blurred by Royce’s distrust and Butchy’s distaste for the actress. At Miles’ nod of confirmation that the blonde had, in fact, offered such a grand gesture, Bentley asked, “How come you never told us?”

“It never occurred to me,” Miles shrugged, reaching up to brush some of Bentley��s golden locks from his face. “At the time, I was more surprised to see you both on my doorstep than anything, and as time passed, I found myself more occupied with caring for the two of you that I never thought to mention it.”

Letting out a breath of a laugh, Bentley said, “That might have made a lot of a difference.”

“You think so?”

Bentley laughed, hoping his emphatic nod would emphasize his statement, “Royce and I thought she was just this prissy, full-of-herself, wicked witch who had you trapped in some kind of evil love spell like in that movie we had watched where the octopus girl spelled the prince to fall in love with her instead of the mermaid.”

Letting out a snort at his brother’s warped description of his girlfriend, Miles shook his head, “She’s a lot friendlier when you get to know her.”

“Maybe a little too friendly with you,” Bentley remarked, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk.

Smacking Bentley’s shoulder, Miles scoffed, “Shut up.”

After sitting for a while in relative silence, smiling at each other, Bentley softly spoke up, “I think I might try talking with her tomorrow. You know, get a feel for who she is and all that.”

“Really?” Miles asked, hope swelling in his eyes once more as Bentley chuckled and nodded.

“She deserves it after putting up with us for so long.”

Smiling, Miles leaned over the gap between their chairs and pulled Bentley into a hug, glad to feel his brother’s arms come around his back as he muttered his thanks over the blond’s shoulder. Before he could say much more, the door to the music hall pushed open, and, with a curious tilt of her head, Vivien asked, “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Bentley said with ease. “We were talking about Carrie, and I think I’m finally willing to give her a shot.”

“You are?” Vivien questioned skeptically. Bentley’s nod and Miles’ beaming smile seemed genuine, so as Vivien smiled in return, she said, “Well, it’s about damn time if you ask me.”

Rolling his eyes at his friend’s comment, Bentley relaxed into his chair once more and began thinking of how he would approach Carrie without scaring her off. In the past, he had helped Royce and Butchy with more than one torturous prank on the girl. He couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t feel uneasy by his presence and sudden interest in her. Taking a deep breath and glancing at Miles as he stood and made his way to the guitars that hung on the wall, Bentley thought of how at ease the actress was around his oldest brother. If he could treat her similarly to how Miles did, maybe she would be willing to speak with him. While he couldn’t approach her with a kiss like Miles almost always did - not only because it would be inappropriate, but also the fact that the very thought had him fighting the urge to throw up - but he could try approaching her with a smile.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d get a hug out of him like everyone else did.

Wednesday came and brought with it the invisible war paint on Bentley’s cheeks. In his head, he was preparing for battle, ready to fight the ingrained hatred he had for a certain actress to make some sort of progress toward a form of friendship he had once thought impossible. While it still felt nearly impossible, it was for an entirely different reason. Originally, the impossibility was willingly engaging in conversation with Carrie without one of his brothers or friends present. Now it had dissolved into the impossibility of getting the actress alone for more than five seconds.

His first plan had been to sort of ambush her before breakfast, using the early hours to talk, but given how easily he now managed to snooze his alarm and go back to sleep, his first plan was quickly scrapped, and he was hauled out of bed by Riven who told him to get dressed before Vivien chose violence. His second plan was similar to how he had managed to corner Vivien in the mess hall a few days earlier. That plan was also scrapped as everyone else seemed to get up from the table for something or another and had grabbed the blonde anything she needed while they were up. Bentley was officially on his third - and, hopefully, last - plan, which required him practically stalking Carrie, Riven, and Charlie to the playhouse.

“Spending the day in the art barn again?” Riven asked as he trailed alongside the blond boy.

Bentley was quick to shake his head as he softly answered, “I’m trying to spend time with Carrie.”

Confusion filled Riven’s expression as he reached up and slapped a hand to the boy’s forehead, “Why; are you sick or something? Trying to pass it along to her?”

Peeling Riven’s hand from his face, Bentley snickered, “No.”

“Are you sure?” Riven pressed rhetorically. “I can’t imagine you willingly spending time with her.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to try,” Bentley sighed.

“What changed?” the auburn-haired boy asked.

Taking in a breath, Bentley explained, “The other day, I talked with Viv and Hayley about how things were when Charlie came into the picture and, after hearing their side of things, I talked with Miles to see how he felt.”

“And?”

“It sort of made things make sense,” Bentley admitted. “Now, I just want to hear her side of things to see if Royce and I were wrong about some stuff.”

Riven hummed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked, “Well, if it means anything, I don’t mind spending all day with her in the playhouse. She’s fun, yet professional when she needs to be, and she puts in the effort to make sure everyone is having a good time regardless of what they’re doing.”

“You like spending time with her?” Bentley asked.

“I do,” Riven admitted. “Despite what Royce and Butchy say, she’s not the devil.”

“I didn’t think she was,” Bentley confessed.

“Maybe not,” the taller boy shrugged, “but I bet you’ve called her that because that’s how they see her.”

Bentley didn’t need to think about it to know. He had done it many times before out of habit, spewing out what he had heard them say just to feel included. “Maybe,” he muttered.

“Mhm,” Riven hummed knowingly. “Just do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” Bentley asked.

“Try to see her for who she actually is,” Riven said. “Push aside whatever you had heard from everyone else and get to know the real Carrie. You never know what side of her you’ll get, but you never know; maybe you’ll like what you see.”

Glancing ahead at the two women ahead of them, Bentley felt a smile tug at his lips as Charlie said something that got Carrie laughing hysterically. As they neared the playhouse, Carrie’s head turned toward the art barn and, subsequently, the library. After a moment, she turned to say something to Riven, but when she spotted Bentley beside him, she stalled. After what couldn’t have been more than a second or two, she bounced back to her smiling self and waved toward the boys before turning back to Charlie with something to say.

“Maybe,” Bentley conceded.

Normally, Bentley didn’t mind being covered in paint, but he preferred to paint on a canvas with brushes and precision. Spray-painting a gigantic hair spray canister in aqua and baby pink was certainly not the type of artwork he liked. It didn’t help that, with his job being kept outside, Bentley didn’t have a single opportunity to talk with Carrie alone. She was tasked with helping Riven and some girl with a name he couldn’t pronounce work on the photography ideas they’d had for promotion pictures they would eventually plaster all over the town. Instead, he was kept company only by Charlie, who came and went as she pleased and offered him company when she wasn’t busy preventing meltdowns and consoling scriptwriters who had to erase sections of their work due to it not making much sense in the grand scheme of things. Charlie wasn’t bad company by any means; she just wasn’t the person he had hoped to spend the day with.

As the woman with the pink braids came back outside, Bentley smiled her way and gestured toward the giant spray can beside him as he set down his can of aqua paint. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, Bentley,” she complimented. “What do you think?”

“It’s good,” he nodded. “It’s not my normal art form, but I think I did alright.”

“More than alright,” Charlie claimed, nudging Bentley with her elbow. “Give yourself more credit.”

The sincerity in Charlie’s eyes was as clear as the sky above, and the sight made Bentley smile, “Alright, I did a good job.”

“I’ll take it,” Charlie sighed, her smile ever-present. Perching herself on one of the stump seats Bentley had used to get some of the higher portions of the can, Charlie began speaking with a knowing tone, “You know, I have the feeling you didn’t come here to help us paint.”

Though Bentley tried to figure out a way to argue the comment without being rude, the look in the woman’s eye was impossible to fight, and Bentley found himself nodding in defeat, “Okay, yeah. I came down to try to talk with Carrie.”

“Yeah?” When Bentley nodded, Charlie asked, “What about?”

Sighing, Bentley took a seat on another stump and said, “I talked with Viv and Hayley about what happened between you and Viv years ago and it’s a lot like what Royce and I are dealing with Carrie.”

Nodding understandingly, Charlie guessed, “You’re trying to see every angle possible.”

“Yeah,” Bentley nodded again. “I’ve tried to talk with her a bunch of times today, but something always seems to happen to keep me from it.”

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling you that you shouldn't talk to her just yet,” Charlie mused.

“You think so?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Are you sure that you’ve seen everyone’s perspectives?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve talked with Miles, Viv, and Hayley,” Bentley listed, counting off people on his fingers. “I know Royce’s stance on the situation, but I’ll talk with him about it after. I think all that’s left is Carrie.”

Charlie sent the boy an amused smirk as she asked, “You don’t want my opinion, then?”

“What?” Bentley thought for a moment before realization filled his steel-colored eyes. “I totally forgot, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be, sweetheart,” Charlie laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “I just figured that I would offer you the chance to hear things from someone who had been in Carrie’s position and made it to the other side with her sanity mostly intact.”

Bentley thought about the idea before nodding, “I would like that.”

With a smile and a sigh, Charlie crossed one leg over the other and gave the boy her full attention as she asked, “Where do you all stand as of right now?”

“I think I’m ready to move past everything and try to be friends with Carrie,” Bentley admitted. “I don’t think Royce is anywhere close to it, though. I think he still sees her as the enemy.”

Charlie hummed, knowing all too well how the other end of that situation felt. Reminiscing on her past relationship with Vivien, Charlie grinned, “I remember those days.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” Charlie chuckled. “I spent two years vying for Vivien’s friendship and for us to move past the animosity she had for me.”

“Two years?” Bentley wondered.

“Two long, stressful years where I walked a tightrope, hoping Vivien wouldn’t push me off,” Charlie sighed. “I worried about every word I spoke, every move I made, and, at some points, I even worried about breathing the wrong way. My love for both Hayley and Vivien was the only thing making me continue walking that rope.”

“You loved Vivien even though she didn’t like you?” Bentley asked. When Charlie nodded in confirmation, he asked, “Why?”

Smiling, Charlie simply replied, “Because she was a part of Hayley.”

That seemed to take Bentley by surprise, and if he was being completely honest, he wondered how he hadn’t seen it that way before. “Do you think Carrie sees us that way?”

“Whether she knows it or not,” Charlie said, “she must care about you in some way if she’s dealt with you both this long.”

“We have put her through the wringer,” Bentley admitted softly.

“She’s a strong young woman.”

“I know.”

“You should see the way she watches over the two of you,” Charlie commented with a smile, glancing back toward the playhouse.

Bentley followed her gaze just enough to see a wisp of blonde hair turning away from the window. Smiling, Bentley asked, “Does she do that often?”

“All the time.” Turning back toward the boy, Charlie confessed, “Carrie pays close attention to you both whether you notice it or not. She checks to make sure you two are going somewhere safe on the way to the playhouse.”

“She does?”

“I noticed it yesterday,” Charlie nodded. “She can see the art barn and the library from near the playhouse and checks to make sure you’re either there or that you both are somewhere safe for the day. Yesterday, Riven had to remind her that you had gone to the music hall with Miles and Vivien. She’s protective, which is good.”

“Yeah,” Bentley agreed. “I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I like to think I’m good at observing people.”

Charlie suggested, “Maybe your feelings toward her had blinded you.”

“Maybe.”

“Or,” she began again, “maybe you just didn’t look close enough because you didn’t want to see her being nice to you.”

“That could be,” Bentley agreed.

“You never know,” Charlie shrugged. “Either way, though, you should know that, even though you and Royce haven’t been the nicest towards Carrie, she still cares about you the way I did for Vivien all those years ago. You both are an extension of Miles and, although we all know that she loves Miles, she has to love you both to some degree, or Miles wouldn’t stay with her.”

“That’s what Hayley and Miles said,” Bentley claimed.

“Then you should listen to them.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Good,” Charlie beamed. Reaching over to take the boy’s hand, Charlie squeezed it momentarily before saying, “Take it from someone who desperately wanted to have some sort of bond with her partner’s kid; even if it takes a while to work through everything, Carrie will love that you’re at least willing to try. It makes a world of a difference.”

“It does?”

Charlie’s nod was deep and her smile sincere as she gave Bentley’s hand a final squeeze and stood. “Let things happen naturally. You never know, you might just find that she’s far different from the expectations you put on her.”

Smiling at the woman, Bentley watched her leave as he thought about everything they had talked about. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to work through things with Carrie. Vivien and Charlie had gotten close even after everything Vivien had put her through, and that gave Bentley a sliver of hope that his chances of befriending Carrie weren’t as slim as he’d previously thought. Sparing a glance to the windows of the playhouse, Bentley raised a hand and waved at the startled blonde, who somehow managed to catch his eye. Carrie gave a quick, stiff wave in return before leaving the window to continue working. Chuckling to himself, Bentley shook his head and tapped the giant hairspray can beside him, checking that it was at least partially dry before bringing his mask up and grabbing a white can of spray paint. He was fine with waiting a little longer.

As though the spring months hadn’t brought enough rain, Thursday brought showers. As the rain had started overnight, the morning wake-up call also instructed campers to stay close to their cabins in case of any outages, and counselors were told that food would be delivered to their doors as the winds whipped through the camp. The only thing the weather was good for was clearing the area of humidity, but even that did little to make people happy with the idea of being kept inside. Board games were brought out of cabinets, and card games were hosted in circles on the floor, but, while most campers were lamenting their missed day in the woods, Bentley found comfort in spending the day with his family and friends.

Though he had intended on spending the day getting to know Carrie better, he found his chances slimming by the minute. He had tried to find a way to talk with her alone, but as everyone else joined in their games, Bentley had to remind himself that it had to happen naturally and that, regardless of how much he wanted to just pull her aside, he couldn’t. Monopoly ended as it always seemed to - Bentley as the victor, Royce claiming he cheated, and Vivien laughing as Riven playfully threatened to kill him… Well, Bentley hoped Riven was being playful. The Game of Life had everyone breaking into teams, and, by the end, Mick and Butchy had come to a slim lead over Charlie and Hayley and the reluctant pair of Bentley and Riven in third. Once lunch had passed, Mick brought out a murder mystery game called Killer in the Camp, and Carrie stood to refill her drink, giving Bentley a window of opportunity he hadn’t anticipated.

Giving Carrie a moment alone, Bentley stood and mentioned something about grabbing a snack before following Carrie into the other room where they had ditched the food and drinks. Carrie looked up as the floorboard in the dining area creaked, sending Bentley a smile as she uncovered the container of juice that had been dropped off with lunch, “Hey, Bentley.”

“Hey,” Bentley greeted in response, grabbing a bag of crunchy Cheetos from the box of snacks they had received earlier. Tugging nervously at the opening of the bag, Bentley turned toward Carrie and watched her pour her juice. After trying so hard to find a way to talk with the blonde, he was surprised by how anxious he had become now that the opportunity had arisen.

Looking up from her juice and raising an eyebrow, Carrie asked, “Are you alright?”

Taking in a deep breath, Bentley nodded and sighed, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Setting the plastic jug of juice aside and twisting the cap into place, Carrie turned toward Bentley so that he knew he had her full attention before asking, “Sorry for what?”

“For being such a…” he paused to take a breath, “for being so rude to you the last year or so.”

Brushing off the boy’s words, Carrie waved a hand placatingly, “It’s okay-”

“No, it isn’t,” Bentley interrupted firmly, placing his Cheetos on the table. “It’s not okay. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, but I just-” he stopped to take in a sharp breath and think of what to say, “I was scared that you would try to take Miles from us and it was easier for me to try to push you away than it was to try to be nice to you.”

“I could never take Miles from you or Royce,” Carrie said, taking a tentative step closer to the boy. “He adores you both with everything in him.”

Bentley nodded slowly as his gaze fell to the floor, “I know that now.”

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that I would try to take him from you,” Carrie offered, her hand twitching to reach for the blond, yet finding it nearly impossible to commit to the action. “I never meant for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bentley said with a shake of his head.

“Neither do you,” Carrie stated, hoping that when the boy looked up again, he could see the insistent sincerity in her eyes.

Instead, Bentley shook his head and met her gaze with teary eyes, “How can you say that when I was such a jerk to you?”

Giving into the desire to pull the boy close, Carrie closed the gap between them, bringing her arms around Bentley’s shoulders as she fought the burning sensation in her eyes. Blinking up at the ceiling, Carrie took in a slow breath and said, “You were afraid I was going to take away your brother and, in turn, the only secure home you have. I can’t be upset with you for something like that.”

Finding himself trapped in the blonde’s embrace, Bentley allowed himself to relax, his arms coming up to loosely close around her middle as he muttered, “You have every right to be.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it,” Carrie breathed, squeezing the boy just a fraction tighter.

Taking in the fact that Carrie harbored no ill will toward him, Bentley let out a choked breath, “You shouldn’t have had to put up with us for so long.”

“I put up with it because, believe it or not, I care about you two.” Pulling back enough to see Bentley’s face, Carrie swiped her fingers across his cheeks and gave the young blond a watery smile as she said, “It may not be nearly as much as Miles adores you, but even after all of the shit you two have given me, I still care about you guys.”

“I know,” Bentley claimed, allowing the blonde to hold his face hostage. Clearing his throat just enough to take in a breath, he said, “I talked to Miles a lot and heard from Viv and her aunts about what they went through. It sort of made me realize that pushing you away was just going to hurt everyone in the end.”

Dropping her hands from Bentley’s face and allowing Bentley to pull away a step, Carrie dried her face and smiled as she asked, “Do you feel up to telling Royce that?”

A snort of laughter came from the teenager as he admitted, “Royce might take some convincing.”

“Tell me about it,” Carrie snickered.

Taking a moment to breathe in the tension-free air between them, Bentley smiled at Carrie and asked, “How red are my eyes?”

“They’re not,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I, on the other hand, must look like a melted panda.”

Though Carrie’s makeup, if she had any on in the first place, hadn’t moved an inch, Bentley smirked and teased, “I was going to say raccoon, but that works too.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Carrie asked, “Doesn’t Vivien call those ‘trash pandas’?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Bentley claimed as he grabbed his snack from the table, “but if the shoe fits…”

Shaking her head, Carrie grabbed her drink from the table and watched the boy head toward the hallway before calling out to him. When Bentley turned, she said, “Thank you.”

Nodding, Bentley silently left the room, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in a breath of relief. After so long of seeing nothing more than a blonde she-devil any time he looked at Carrie, it felt almost nice to see her in a new light. Now that they had moved a step in the right direction, he had to focus his attention on helping Royce see the light as well. With any luck, they’d have things figured out in the next five years.

When the sun finally reappeared on Friday, most of the campers were excited to return to their wilderness trips. Bentley wasn’t entirely sure what they did on their trips other than pick up pinecones and shiny rocks to take back to camp, but they seemed to have fun regardless. While he could have easily tagged along throughout the week, he decided after a brief talk over breakfast on Monday that it just wasn’t his scene. He preferred to have the camp to himself, exploring all of the activities he could while everyone else was gone.

With most of the counselors and campers out of the camp, Bentley had free roam of the entire grounds, and most of the workers that guarded different areas had the day to themselves. The art barn was practically empty that day, as only Bentley had set up camp inside the log building. After a while of the constant silence that was only broken by his brush swiping across the canvas he was working on, Bentley grew tired of the quiet art room and returned his art supplies to wherever they needed to be before setting his canvas aside to dry and tossing his brushes into the sink to dry.

Making his way to the library next door, Bentley was surprised to find his brother gone from his normal post at the front desk. Asking around, it seemed as though nobody had seen him leave his station. However, there was one person Bentley knew could have some notion as to where his brother had gone, and, as he entered the playhouse and bee-lined straight for the blonde who was singing along to some song that played over the building’s speakers, Carrie smiled, “Hey, Bentley!”

“Hey, Carrie,” he greeted. “Do you know where Royce went? He’s not at his desk.”

Sure enough, the actress nodded, “I saw Vivien go in there a while ago. She was in her swimsuit and had a few towels, so my guess would be that they went to the beach.”

“Thank you,” Bentley said, quickly leaning in to give the woman a hug. He gave Carrie just enough time to instinctively put her arms around him before turning and leaving the playhouse without giving her a chance to say anything.

Smirking at the stunned blonde, Charlie slid up beside Carrie and asked, “How did that feel?”

“Bizarre,” Carrie breathed.

“It’ll take some time to get used to,” Charlie reassured her, patting Carrie on the shoulder. “Just wait until you’ve got both of them coming to you like that.”

Carrie chuckled, shaking her head as she met the older woman’s gaze, “Somehow, I don’t think that will happen any time soon.”

“You never know,” Charlie shrugged. “He might just surprise you.”

“He might,” Carrie allowed. Sighing, she admitted, “Either way, I doubt I’ll be ready for it when it comes.”

“Trust me,” Charlie began as she smiled a the blonde, “you won’t be. It will come when you least expect it to.”

“Great,” Carrie drawled sarcastically. Nudging the blonde with a supportive grin, Charlie turned and went back to her job, allowing Carrie to soak in the quick interaction she’d had with the youngest Murphy brother.

Meanwhile, Bentley took his time walking to the beach, relaxing in the knowledge that, regardless of where his brother had gone, he was safe with Vivien by his side. Waving to Noah and one of his friends as he passed them, Bentley kicked his shoes off as he reached the sand, not wanting to deal with a shoe full of sand later on. The last time he’d had to deal with that, it took almost a week to get all of the sand from his sneakers, and he could still feel the grit of it every time he wore that specific pair. One of his pet peeves, he supposed.

It didn’t take long for Bentley to find the pair sitting on the pier, a puddle around both of them as evidence that they had gone for a swim. Deciding to scare the pair with his sudden appearance, Bentley ditched his shoes under the edge of the pier and tucked his shirt under there for good measure before wading into the water, grateful he had worn board shorts to keep himself cool throughout the day. Hoping to make the least amount of noise possible, Bentley swam slowly out to where the piers met, just barely able to hear what Royce and Vivien were talking about as he approached.

“Now you,” Royce said. “What do you want?”

Vivien let out a sigh, leaning back against the wooden boards and staring up at the sky before saying, “I want a big, white house with purple shutters.”

“Purple shutters?” Royce wondered, his tone amused as he reclined next to his girlfriend.

“Mhm,” Vivien hummed, nodding against the pier. “The most offensive shade of purple we can find.”

“We’ll have to get Benny to paint them all,” Royce commented, the thought alone making Bentley smile. After a pause, his brother asked, “Anything else?”

Vivien was silent, but Bentley could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “I would love a big porch that wraps around the whole house. We can sit outside and drink tea and watch the sun go down together every day.”

“With my cat and your dog.”

“Naturally.”

A moment passed, and Royce asked, “What else do you have in that head of yours?”

“We need enough rooms for everyone to come and stay when they want to,” Vivien stated. “Your family, my family, my band, and our friends.”

Royce let out a laugh, “We’re going to need at least ten rooms, if we’re going all out.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vivien breathed. “We’ll have to put in a movie theater and everything, especially for football season.”

“You like football?” Royce asked.

Bentley could hear Vivien’s snort, “No, but it’s always entertaining to watch Butchy, Miles, and Mick’s parents yell at the TV, telling the players what to do like they can hear them from a million miles away.”

“True,” Royce chuckled. “So, what else?”

Vivien hummed before claiming, “We need a room overlooking the beach.”

“We do?”

“Of course,” Vivien confirmed as she sat up. “It’s gotta have large windows and a balcony.”

As Royce moved to follow Vivien, he asked, “How come?”

“For Bentley and Miles to paint to their hearts’ content when they come to visit,” Vivien stated as she began walking back toward the beach. “Why else?”

Bentley pushed himself further under the cover of the pier as he watched his brother lace his hand into Vivien’s and say, “That’s a great idea.”

As the couple headed back toward the lodge, unaware of the blond boy hiding beneath the wood of the pier, Bentley took in a slow breath. Letting their words sink in, Bentley watched Royce and Vivien disappear into the lodge and slowly moved from his hiding spot. While he knew that, eventually, Royce and Vivien would move on with life and get a house of their own, he had always sort of figured that it would be the three of them. Sort of like in that show Vivien loved so much where, even when Monica and Chandler moved into a new house, they still had a room for Joey.

Bentley thought that had been their plan. Once they felt ready to do so, they’d move into a place together. Together being the key word. Was that not what Royce and Vivien wanted? Sure, he had never asked them their thoughts on the matter, but he’d assumed that, since they were so close, they’d be together regardless. Until Bentley had a reason to move out on his own, that is. Did they really have no intention of keeping the gang together once they had a place to themselves?

Taking a deep breath, Bentley swam back to the shore, grabbing his shirt and shoes and drying himself off with a towel from the porch before making his way back toward the rest of the campground. If they didn’t want him around, that was fine. He could stay away. Maybe, if he gave them some space on their own for a while, they’d want him to stick around longer. Something about distance making people fonder and all that.

Not wanting to wander for long yet also not wanting to be alone, Bentley headed for the closest place he knew he would find people who wouldn’t mind him hanging around for the rest of the afternoon - the playhouse. Opening the door and slipping inside fairly unnoticed, Bentley looked around at the circles of chairs that had formed in what was typically an open hall, examining each chair before finally settling on the one that housed a certain blonde, her hair barely contained in a claw clip that looked ready to burst at the slightest movement. Feeling Bentley’s gaze on her, Carrie looked around before meeting his eyes with a smile, waving him over.

As he sat beside her, Bentley asked, “Do you mind if I hang out here for the afternoon?”

“Of course not!” Carrie chirped. “Actually, you’re just in time for us to do a trial run of the script.”

The actress inched her chair closer to Bentley’s, and as he looked over the papers in her hand, he leaned closer to her and muttered, “I can’t read it.”

Carrie’s smile seemed to broaden as she replied, “I know; that’s why I moved closer. I figured we could work together on it and take it at your pace.”

Bentley let out a huff of a laugh, “That could take a few hours.”

“That’s fine,” Carrie shrugged, her pearlescent smile ever-present. “All that matters is that we work together. If you find it too hard, I can always take over reading and you can give me your thoughts on the script as we go.”

“Doesn’t that sort of defeat the purpose of me working with you?”

Carrie was quick to shake her head, the movement testing the strength of the clip in her hair as it bobbed from one side to the other. “Of course not. I could always use an extra pair of ears.”

Skeptical of the blonde’s claim, Bentley raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Really?”

Carrie nodded, “Sometimes, when we read the script off the paper, we miss things that don’t sound right to people listening. It’s always useful to have someone else to just listen to the script.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Relaxing at the woman’s claim, Bentley nodded and allowed the blonde to hold the stapled papers between them, her excitement for the show contagious as she began listing off the character list and rambling about their personalities. Although Bentley had seen the movie a bunch due to Vivien’s infatuation with it and knew most of the characters by heart, he smiled and allowed Carrie to continue her spiel. Though he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he was happy to see the blonde so excited, especially because of his simple choice to join her in the playhouse. Looking across the circle to where Riven sat, watching them with a smirk, Bentley gave a small nod, which the auburn-haired man returned, granting the younger boy his silent approval. Smiling to himself, Bentley returned his focus to the actress beside him, silently wondering how on earth he had waited so long to see her as something more than an enemy.

After keeping himself particularly silent at dinner that evening, Bentley made his way back to the lodge with Riven by his side, trailing behind his siblings and their girlfriends. Riven had brought an arm around the blond’s shoulder, and while it was obvious that the auburn-haired boy had wanted to speak with Bentley, neither of them had chosen to speak thus far, and it seemed as though they wouldn’t begin any time soon. Maybe he knew Bentley needed his space, or maybe he just couldn’t find the words to say. Either way, once they arrived at the lodge, Bentley headed upstairs, planning on secluding himself in his room for the remainder of the night. Despite leaving his door closed and attempting to busy himself with the games on his phone, it seemed as though fate wasn’t on his side.

A knock on his door made Bentley jump, but after telling whoever was on the other side to come in, he let himself relax on his mattress. It didn’t take long for Miles to slip into the room, close the door behind him, and make his way to the edge of Bentley’s bed, where he sat. “Hey, baby,” he greeted.

“Hey,” Bentley muttered, clicking his phone off and setting it aside as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Carrie told me that you spent the afternoon with her in the playhouse,” Miles claimed.

“I did,” Bentley nodded in response. “It was fun.”

“I’m glad.” Bringing an arm around his youngest brother’s shoulders, Miles smiled, “I’m not surprised you didn’t manage to convince Royce to join you.”

Bentley shrugged, his gaze dropping as he sighed, “He was busy with Vivien anyway, so I doubt it would have mattered.”

“What do you mean?”

Bentley gave a noncommittal noise before stating, “They’ve been spending a lot of their free time together and it feels like I haven’t been able to spend time with them much even though I’m not on a schedule.”

Nodding in understanding, Miles took in a breath before stating, “I can always ask them to make time for you, if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

Bentley quickly shook his head. Though he desperately wanted his brother and Vivien to spend time with him, he knew that if they were going to do so, he wanted them to do it willingly, not because someone told them to. He didn’t want to be the unnecessary third wheel they grew to resent keeping with them. He wanted them to want him. “That’s alright.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding as though he was reassuring himself more than anything, Bentley rolled his eyes and declared, “They’re probably just being all mushy and gross together and I’m perfectly fine being left out of that. When they want to hang out, I’ll still be here. In the meantime, I’ve been liking getting to know the real Carrie and hanging out in the playhouse.”

The blond’s segue had worked flawlessly as Miles beamed, “That’s great. You have no idea how glad I am to see you both spending time together.”

Bentley listened to Miles talk until the speakers throughout the camp crackled to life, announcing it was time to turn out the lights for the night. Once he was alone again, Bentley sighed and dragged himself to his dresser and changed into his pajamas before tugging his door open a fraction to receive some of the light from the hallway and slipping beneath his covers. He tried for a while to force himself to sleep, but it seemed fruitless. As Bentley worked up the desire to roll away from the window and onto his other side, he watched as the light from the hall that shone on his wall was blocked out by a looming shadow.

Faintly, he heard a soft, but not soft enough, girl’s voice mutter, “I think he’s sleeping.”

“Are you sure?”

Bentley tried to keep himself as silent as possible. He didn’t need Royce and Vivien knowing that he could hear them. The door to his room creaked open further, and as two sets of footsteps creaked across the floor, Bentley’s eyes snapped shut. Hoping his breathing seemed slow enough to mimic sleep, Bentley laid still on his mattress, listening as the couple inched closer. His bed sunk to one side as one of them knelt on the mattress, lolling Bentley closer to that side. Making a noise of discontent, Bentley rolled toward them, shifting onto his stomach as the bed moved once more.

“He’s asleep,” Vivien decided, her amusement obvious in her voice.

A hand threaded through Bentley’s hair, pushing it away from his face with a chuckle that he knew belonged to Royce. “I guess so.”

“Do you still want to join him?” Vivien asked.

“He’s usually a sound sleeper, but I don’t want to risk waking him,” Royce mused. “We can hang out in the morning.”

Though Bentley was curious as to what they had planned on doing if he had been awake, he didn’t want to make it obvious that he had been listening in. Royce’s hand in his hair moved once again, and Bentley felt a soft pressure against his forehead before his brother moved away, and the bed creaked as he got up. It creaked once more as an arm draped over Bentley’s back, and he faintly heard Vivien whisper a good night to him. As the pair moved away and the light from the hallway was blocked by their shadows once again, Bentley opened his eyes just enough to see Vivien and Royce leave the room, pulling the door to where Bentley had left it before giving each other a hug and going their separate ways.

Staring into the darkness of his bedroom, Bentley sighed and tried to force himself to sleep once more, knowing that, eventually, they would come to him with whatever they wanted to say. Until then, however, he would just have to wait it out the way he had originally planned - keeping his distance. Glancing down at the golden sun that dangled from the friendship bracelet Vivien had made for him to match the ones she had made for herself and Royce, Bentley wondered just how long he would be able to hold out.

Breakfast came and went in a flurry Saturday morning as many campers were in a rush to pack up their things and go, but there were some tables that had people who chose to let the morning pass by at its own speed and enjoy the company of those around them. Royce was one of those people. After spending most of his days in the library, doing practically nothing other than getting lost in the fantasy worlds that lived in the library’s walls, he had been glad to spend the week roaming around to different locations after lunch. Though he had spent little time in the playhouse during the week, he had noticed Bentley spending more and more time there, helping with painting set pieces and talking with the thespians who thrived within the playhouse’s walls.

Bentley loved to roam, a fact Royce knew all too well. However, he couldn’t imagine his younger brother willingly placing himself within the reach of their oldest brother’s girlfriend. As far as he was aware, they both couldn’t stand being near the blonde, but had to tolerate her presence for the summer as, if they were being honest with themselves, they had no choice in the matter. Whether they liked it or not, Carrie would be near them all summer. Royce had to admit, though, he loved annihilating her in the board games they played some nights.

By the time breakfast was over and everyone had gone their separate ways, Royce found himself walking his usual path to the library, ready to hunker down for a while with a good book. However, as he looked toward the art barn, he discovered that Bentley hadn’t followed the trail toward his favorite location on the grounds. Looking around the area, he smiled as he saw his younger brother heading into the playhouse with Riven.

“Hey, Ben,” Royce called from the steps of the library, offering his brother a wave and a smile.

Bentley turned, meeting Royce’s gaze and sending him a brief wave before silently turning back toward the playhouse and following Riven inside. Though the gesture was quick, and Royce could feel a twinge of hurt in his chest as Bentley disappeared from view, Royce took a deep breath and brushed off the interaction. Maybe Bentley had been caught up in a conversation or something, and Royce’s greeting had taken him by surprise. There were a myriad of reasons why Bentley hadn’t responded with his typical brilliant smile and enthusiasm. Glad that his brother was having fun with friends, Royce sighed and returned to the library, making sure to shut the door to keep the building cool before finding his way to the chair he had shoved into place behind the desk.

Grabbing the book he had begun reading over the last week, Royce settled into place and flipped to where he had left his bookmark. It was easy to get absorbed in the book’s pages, and it didn’t take long for Royce’s worries about Bentley’s behavior to flee from his mind as he let the fantasy world between the pages envelop him. All too soon, the signal for lunch echoed throughout the camp, and Royce tucked his bookmark back into place before setting it aside.

Stretching as he rose from his chair, Royce was none too surprised to hear the door open. His first thought was that Bentley had come to collect him, but as he turned, he found his girlfriend standing where he expected the blond boy to stand. “Oh, hey, Viv,” he greeted.

“Hey,” she said with a smile. “Is Ben here already?”

Shaking his head, Royce rounded the desk and asked, “Why?”

“He’s not down at the art barn or the beach,” Vivien replied.

“I saw him go into the playhouse with Riven,” Royce said with a smile. “He’s probably knee-deep in paint or something.”

“Alright,” Vivien sighed. “Well, when you see him, bring him down to the beach.”

“Why, what’s up?”

Vivien pulled the door open and stepped into the sunlight before sighing, “I figured we could have a picnic on the beach for lunch and talk about our plans for world domination.”

“Ah,” Royce breathed, nodding at his girlfriend’s idea. “Sounds good. We’ll meet you down there.”

As that was all the confirmation she needed, Vivien took off in a run, hoping to make up some plates at the mess hall before all of the good slices of pizza were gone. Chuckling at his girlfriend, Royce shook his head and descended the front steps, heading toward the playhouse with a smile. The doors opened just as Royce approached, and as Charlie tucked the door stopper into place, she said, “I was wondering how long it would be before you stopped in.”

“You were?” he asked the woman.

Charlie smiled, nodding as she said, “Your brother has been practically glued to Carrie today.”

The surprise that flooded Royce's veins must have been evident on his face as he glanced toward the playhouse, unable to see far inside due to the lighting. “He has?”

Charlie chuckled, nudging the boy, “Relax, would you. They’ve been working on the script together and he’s helping her with making sure everything sounds alright.”

Royce took in a breath and sighed, “Is he okay?”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully as she glanced back toward the playhouse, “I may not know him as well as you do, but he seems particularly quiet today. I know he talked with Riven and Carrie at some point today and they got him to open up a little, but he doesn’t seem as vibrant as he usually is.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?”

Taking in a slow breath, Charlie sighed, “I might not be the best person to answer that. If I were you, I’d ask Carrie. As I said, he’s been right by her side all day. She’d know more than I would.”

Though Royce had no desire to speak with his older brother’s girlfriend, he knew he just might not have a choice in the matter. Smiling graciously at the older woman, Royce thanked her before heading into the building, allowing himself a moment to let his eyes adjust before looking around for his brother. It didn’t take him long. Bentley was sat cross-legged on the stage, his knees bouncing as he and Carrie listened intently to whatever story Riven was spieling. Riven said something to make both Bentley and Carrie laugh, and Royce found it fairly difficult not to smile as he approached the stage.

“What did you say?” Bentley asked, his eyes wide and sparkling with anticipation.

“I told him to give me shit about it later,” Riven claimed, a lopsided smile glimmering in the fluorescent lights overhead. “I mean, he’s the one who said to get the interview with the guy who owns the old hospital - he never said how.”

Carrie was the first to notice Royce, sending him a small smile as she waved, “Hi, Royce.”

Bentley turned as Riven gave his own greeting - something about welcoming Royce to their favorite hell hole. The older of the brothers let out a chuckle and pushed himself onto the stage before sliding across to where they had gathered. “You guys do realize it’s lunchtime, right?”

“Yeah,” Riven shrugged, “but who needs food when you feed off of drama?”

“They’re putting out pizza,” one of the workers - Kitty or Kallie, Bentley wasn’t sure - claimed before shoving in another bite of the slice she’d taken back from the mess hall.

“Any meat-lover’s?” Riven asked. When the girl raised a hand with a single thumb up, Riven clapped his hands together and declared, “That’s my cue to leave, then.”

“What happened to feeding off of drama?” Bentley taunted.

“Drama doesn’t taste like bacon,” Riven fired back as he jumped from the stage. “See you after break!”

Bentley smiled as he watched Riven practically run from the playhouse, but as he turned to Carrie and found the amused gleam in her eyes, he couldn’t resist the laughter that forced its way out. When it finally died down enough that he could think straight, Bentley sucked in a breath and turned to Royce, who watched the pair as though they had both grown an extra head or three. “What’s up, RJ?” he asked.

Blinking himself back to normality, Royce said, “Viv and I are having a picnic on the beach and we wanted to see if you wanted to tag along.”

Sparing a glance at the blonde to his left, Bentley watched as she nodded approvingly in his direction before standing. Carrie ruffled Bentley’s hair briefly before making her way to the edge of the stage and hopping down from it, giving the brothers some space to talk. Glancing toward the doors on the opposite side of the building, Bentley lowered his voice as he asked, “Are you sure you guys want me there?”

Bewildered by the question, Royce asked in return, “Why wouldn’t we?”

Bentley shrugged, offering his brother a weak smile as he stated, “I’m your third wheel. If you guys want to spend some time alone without me around, I’m okay with it.”

The statement confused Royce more than it answered anything. Glancing toward the departing blonde as she reached the front doors, Royce pressed, “Did Carrie say something to you? I swear, if she made you think that Viv and I need time away from you, I-”

“She didn’t,” Bentley interrupted, rolling his eyes at his brother. “In fact, she and Riven actually helped me think things through so I wouldn’t go off the deep end.”

“Oh,” Royce uttered. Allowing Bentley to nod, he asked, “So, what made you think we needed space from you?”

Finding his brother’s concern-filled, caramel eyes, Bentley took in a breath before sighing, “You both did, actually.”

“We did?” Again, Bentley nodded. “How? When?”

“Yesterday, I went looking for you guys after I finished in the art barn,” Bentley began. “Carrie said you guys looked ready to swim, so I went to the beach to look there and you were on the pier talking. I was hoping to scare you guys, so I swam out really quietly and hid under the pier.”

“Okay,” Royce muttered, wondering where his brother was going with the conversation.

“You guys were talking about the future,” Bentley shrugged, his gaze falling to his sneakers as he fiddled with the laces. “Something about ugly purple shutters and ten bedrooms and a big room for me and Miles to paint in when we come to visit.”

Royce appeared thoughtful as he tried to recall the conversation. After a while, he nodded, “I remember that.”

“I just…” Bentley drifted off as he tried to think of the right words. “I guess it made me realize that, when we’re older, I’ll be all alone.”

Concern pushed to the forefront of Royce’s mind as he reached for Bentley’s hand and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Miles and Carrie have each other no matter how hard you try to break them up,” Bentley began, “and you and Viv will be happy in your ugly house. That leaves me on my own when the rest of you decide to move on with life.”

“The hell it does,” a voice chimed in from the side of the stage, and both brothers looked over to see Vivien coming from where the door led out to the back of the building. Setting down her well-balanced stack of paper plates and taking a seat with the boys, she said, “Even if Miles and Carrie eventually move in together and all that, you’re still stuck with us.”

“What do you mean?” Bentley asked.

“Regardless of what happens,” Royce began, “we’re going to stay together. Nothing can break up the dream team.”

“The three amigos,” Vivien continued, “the golden trio, the trinity of awesomeness, the trou-”

“Okay,” Bentley interrupted with a soft laugh, “I get it, but what does that have to do with how things will go when we’re older?”

“It means that, even if Viv and I move into a big house with horrendously purple shutters,” Royce began, jokingly shuddering at the thought and earning himself a smack to the arm, “it’s going to have space for you.”

As Vivien nodded, Bentley eyed the pair, searching their eyes for anything that would clue him into some private joke. When he found nothing, he asked, “Wouldn’t you guys get sick of me living with you?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily,” Vivien agreed. “Besides, do you really think either of us are going to buy a house and not have a room just for you?”

“Are you sure?” Bentley asked.

“Positive,” Royce confirmed, squeezing Bentley’s hand with a smile.

Vivien beamed, reaching for Bentley’s free hand before stating, “You’re stuck with us for the rest of our lives.”

“Or,” Royce began, “until you decide otherwise.”

A wave of relief brushed over Bentley as he took in a deep breath, glad to have been wrong once again. He was grateful. He had been wrong about Carrie, wrong about Miles potentially kicking them out, and wrong about Royce and Vivien eloping to Mexico and building a huge, ugly house on the beach just to get away from him. The more he thought about it, the more Bentley was glad he had talked things over with Carrie and Riven ahead of time so that he had some sort of cushion to fall on in case the conversation went south. While he was immensely grateful all had gone over well, he could only imagine what kind of mess he would have been in if he hadn’t taken the time to talk things over with the pair. He’d have to thank them later on.

Smiling at Royce and Vivien, Bentley sighed, “Thanks, guys.”

The couple’s swift, casual ways of brushing off Bentley’s gratitude were pushed aside quickly as Vivien pushed herself from the stage floor and decided, “Now, let’s get going before the food gets any colder than it already is.”

Bentley glanced at Royce as they rose from their spots on the floor, sharing a smile with his older sibling as the brunet wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led the way out of the playhouse. Walking down to the beach, the youngest of the trio found it impossible to wipe the smile from his face as Royce and Vivien blabbered on about things they hadn’t talked with Bentley about just yet. As they sat on the beach together and ate the mostly-cold pizza Vivien had gotten from the mess hall, Royce and Vivien found themselves relaxing as they listened to Bentley spill out everything that had happened to him during the last week, happy to simply listen to his cheerful ramblings and enjoy each other’s company.

#Camp Wanamaker

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