#EZ Chapter 4 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hwaightme · 2 years ago

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Family for Hire (Ch.4)

(family for hire ml) (join series and/or permanent taglist!)

☀️ pairing: single dad!seonghwa x business woman!reader ☀️ genre: fluff, romance, family, domestic, fake marriage, slice of life ☀️ ch. summary: settling into a new routine came with its challenges, of course, but you expected that. what you did not expect, however, was for seonghwa to completely derail your plans for quietude. ☀️ ch. wordcount: 4.7k ☀️ ch. warnings/tags: language, questionably edited, hwa being one jealous boy, a ton of coffee, implied missing breakfast, food/eating, a wild woo and yeo appear, rash decisions, implied lack of sleep, let me know if anything else! ☀️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe (can't be tagged: @ate-ez) ☀️ a/n: in anticipation of seonghwa day, hope you enjoy some more single dad hwa~ much love, any reblogs, comments, thoughts, feelings appreciated! apologies if the chapter is chaos, but hey... croissants and coffee!

Chapter 4: When Croissants Fly

Had you known that if you were to make it into the office on time and keep your promise of taking a certain kid to kindergarten, you would have to get up at hell o’clock in the morning – with hell being anything before six, you would have, respectfully, just left the conversation with standard goodbyes and not offered something out of the blue. Nothing could prepare you for the sheer amount of noise that a child could produce that early, when you were used to having an apartment to yourself, a nice, steaming, hot cup of coffee, and the human right to have fifteen minutes of sheer panic as you would realise if you did not hurry up you would be late. But even that panic was independent. You were not holding anyone up, no one was holding you up. You did not have to answer to anyone, nor did you have to be sitting there, in the driver’s seat, praying for a certain someone to ‘just… chill… out…”. Even though it had already been a three, now four days of you driving back and forth, back and forth like an expensive school bus, you still had a lot to get used to.

You glanced back as you stopped at a red light, catching Nari in deep conversation with her father about some drawing homework – something you were suddenly very jealous of. Why couldn’t adults have drawing homework instead of taxes? But nonetheless, no matter how simple the conversation was, each syllable was like a bass boosted hit of a dubstep remix in your cranium. Biting your lip, you attempted to focus on the sound of traffic outside and wondered if your fellow passengers would quieten down if you were to turn on the radio. You caught yourself hovering between being glad to be on better terms with Seonghwa and mini-Co, and wanting to let out an elaborate string of curses that had accumulated since your coffee machine broke this morning, and you, being a silly optimist when it came to appliances, had no alternative of source of energy fuel. This discomfort was apparently obvious enough for Seonghwa to pick up on it, and at the next red light you hear him tell his daughter to wait a second, and call out to you:

“Y/N, are you okay?” the note of concern in his voice made your heart ache and guilt for being so inwardly irritated spread through you. Peering out at the concrete jungle, you tapped the arm rest a couple of times, pondering the question before asking one back.

“What, do I look unequivocally dubious?” you tried to remain as neutral as possible, since Nari did not need to know what passive aggressive behaviour was, so early in her childhood, however Seonghwa was too finely attuned to emotional landscapes for your own good. Perhaps he could even give Yunho a run for his hard-earned ‘through thick and thin’ friend money.

“Oh, no! Not at all, it’s just that, um, I mean, this routine is quite new and must be very troublesome, so-”

“Do I look tired, is that it?” you interrupted gently, Seonghwa’s obvious beating around the bush turning out to be rather amusing, alleviating some of the headache that the day had been providing you with so far. It was hard not to notice how his upper body stiffened as he stared back at you through the rear-view mirror. Deciding to not keep up the limbo of whether he offended you or not, you cracked the brightest smile you could muster, and winked, “I know I do, don’t worry. I am an early bird by caffeine, and the love of my life broke today.”

“The love… of your life?” Seonghwa repeated cautiously, acutely reactive to your particular choice of words. Choosing to not mention how he leaned closer to you, with even his daughter shooting him an inquisitive glance, you simply elaborated on your morning ordeal.

Amidst your dramatic recounting of your battle with the ‘coffee monster’ you had made Nari burst into a fit of giggles, which was a win in your unpaid parenting work experience, though judging by Seonghwa’s unchanging pained expression, something about the moral of the story seemed to not quite fit the unspoken fairy tale standard, and as such, you trailed off into an awkward silence.

“Did you have… breakfast, at least?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, then what was it?”

Somehow in that moment you felt as though you were not supposed to be sat in the driver's seat, and instead in a detention, or in a dim corner for a long timeout. One step away, and you could almost hear Seonghwa saying ‘I promise I am not going to get mad at you if you just tell me the truth’, a notion that made you shudder. What if, unbeknownst to you, he was the kind of parent that would snap too? There was no guarantee that he wasn’t. Many a times you had seen perfectly happy and peaceful kids coming home to… much less than happy families, so if he was going to shout at you, you should just take it. Your grip on the steering wheel grew tighter and you bit your lower lip. The thud of your heartbeat in your temples returned as you pressed on the gas pedal and accelerated, only a couple of blocks away from Nari’s kindergarten already.

“Good stuff.” You brushed the interrogation off, not because you were uncomfortable with your choices, but because it was more than likely that Seonghwa would be, and as such, you ran the risk of exploding in a defensive mode and exposing Nari to a not so pleasant argument. And you were not about that life. You were not into recycling old experiences into new hurt.

Fortunately, Seonghwa got the hint instantly. Like father, like daughter – Nari, upon seeing the young man’s reaction, took it as a sign that she needed to stay put and reserve playtime for later. The rest of the journey crawling through the somnolent sunlit streets was spent in complete silence. You watched and waved back to a once again excited little gremlin, as she hopped out of the car and shouted for her dad to stay back, because she was ‘grown’ and ‘independent’. He had inadvertently shot you a glance upon hearing the words, enjoying the game of pretending that Nari had taken after you a bit too much. You had not looked back, and even how you were supposedly following his precious girl’s run to the front doors had transformed into a thousand-yard stare. Once again, you were in your own world.

“Hey, mind if I move up front?” he pointed at the seat and tilted his head, jolting you out of your turbulent musings.

“Yeah, sure thing. Okay.”

At this proximity, you swore you could catch a hint of his perfume. The vanilla, floral notes and something you could not quite put a finger on was very memorable, and very him. You took a deep inhale and leaned back into the driver’s seat, ready to commence the journey back.

“You can… actually you know what you can drop me off in the business district!” a weight off your shoulders as he suddenly changed your plans for a smoother ride. Masking your relief, you asked for the handsome man to confirm.

“Are you sure? You will need to switch lines… once if I am not mistaken?”

As he ran a hand through his hair, fighting a pesky strand that was threatening to get into his eye, you took the opportunity to study him. Black shirt with a just barely visible patterned design, and the top button undone to reveal three silver necklaces, carefully selected to complement one another. Black trousers, a loose straight cut, falling onto the chunky black and white converse sneakers. And again, that damn perfume that you could not explain to your brain. You did not want to be creepy, but tilted your head towards the man to try and figure out what that mysterious note was. At least you had your question going for you, and your leaning in could be interpreted simply as interest in his response.

“True, but I have some business, ha-ha wow apt, to attend to in the area so…” did not sound like it, but you were not about to argue just when you were in hot water about your morning.

“Okay.” You rolled out of parking, and drove back out onto the street, now bound for your not quite beloved office.

Ever since Monday, you had cemented yourself as one of the first to arrive in the office, and almost always the first to arrive within your assigned team, which had definitely left a good impression on your manager who openly praised you for being so diligent – much to the dismay of the co-workers who enjoyed gossiping about you. But you could not care less since you and Yunho did the exact thing except in reverse. There were some benefits to waking up at hell o’clock, even if it came with socio-gastronomical sacrifices. Which apparently, Seonghwa made his mission to reverse as he sharply turned his head and made a pointing gesture.

“And I’ll buy you breakfast. Y/N don’t you dare argue with me I have access to some dark magic.”

“Like?”

“Here comes the airplane. Wildly effective. So, if you decline then do expect a projectile croissant.” He threatened, stifling a chuckle.

“What if I want to see a croissant fly?” you countered, shaking your head and gleaming, the greyness of the streets which you navigated not appearing so soul draining anymore.

“Well then I will organise that just for you.”

Seonghwa was not sure what had gotten into him, but his desire to step in and help was nearly unbearable. You were every bit a business person, rushing and dedicating your life to your career even if you did have friends and family. But as he knew from having been working together with someone who had an awfully similar mindset to you, such people often forgot to take care of themselves. It was as if you deemed yourselves either not worthy of time spent, or you never felt the need nor the appeal of caring. And if you were to be acting in the role of his wife, the last thing Seonghwa wanted to see was you masking a perpetual misery. You were striving for best behaviour when you were interacting with Nari, showing a playful and easy-going side of you that he thought that he would never get the chance to see again, and generally were working hard to impress his daughter. But it seemed that you needed a push in the right direction of how exactly you could make him even happier than he already was.

You were dangerously attractive when you were driving, he concluded. The unwavering focus on the road, paired with reflexive movements as you reacted to what you had probably predicted ages in advance was making Seonghwa unreasonably flustered, and he had to force himself to look at the lines on the road instead of constantly looking at you. You had been one of the few people in university who had been a ‘designated driver’, along with your closest friend through the years, since most of the others dismissed the skill as something for a ‘later time’ and not immediately important for studies. It had amused him when these same people would then beg for you to effectively become a carpooling service. Even more amusing was that you had always had the guts to decline.

Now, your driving style had gotten even more refined, more natural. It was clear that you had long passed the stage of novice driver, too many miles and experiences under your wheels to still be considered a learner. Cruising through the city, cruising through life. Seonghwa doubted that you would remember, but there had been one time when you two had been sat, just like this, listening to some indie music that you had said helped you focus. But now the silence you shared was heavier, the impact of every action having the potential to cause greater damage. As such, he kept the memory to himself, instead drifting into the pleasant rumble of the car engine.

Right when the sun washed over Seonghwa’s side of the car after having hopped out from behind a skyscraper, forcing him to flip open the visor, it hit you. Coffee. Of course that last note had to be coffee.

With a croissant in one hand an a steaming takeaway cup of coffee in the other, mother goose in the form of a cheery Seonghwa ushered you towards your office, wishing you a good day at least twice, while you kept on trying to explain the best way to get to the metro station as, clearly, he had not planned his ‘business’ out in the slightest.

If you had been aware that his business was to make sure you had at least some form of nourishment and perked up to a satisfactory level, you would have probably thrown hands, so the young man had to resort to being cryptic, rocking on his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he said one last goodbye to you and followed your form as you entered your building, crossed a large reception area, passed some security turnstiles and finally, were swallowed by an elevator. So this was how this life was.

He closed his eyes and listened to the industrial noise. The whirring of cars all around him, construction of a new residential complex, designed not for aesthetic purposes, but to eventually raise the land price, the chatter of people who made the financial world, and as such the world itself turn, the whistling of a strong breeze that hit the top floors, zooming past antennae, wiring and air conditioning exhausts. A beautiful, cold world that he had previously imagined himself in. Seonghwa peeked out once again to take in the surroundings: the glossy windows, the sleek modern architecture and abstract expressionist sculptures installed in miniature street squares. Funny how, as he had seen you enter one of the many ant houses, a sense of clarity washed over him. This was your habitat. Your home. Not his. And he should not beat himself up over it. Especially when you were so much more passionate about it, and as such so much more deserving of the best space here.

You were there, behind one of the many windows, working hard for success. And now, he was part of that strenuous operation, at least by a fraction. That was what he could do, and how he could contribute. The possibility of you and him collaborating in enviable synchronicity was an exciting prospect, now that he could feel the space in which you worked. He could handle his tasks, you could handle yours – the domestic daydreaming left him breathless as he began to amble in a random direction, not taking his eyes off the bright blue sky.

Except his blissful state of ideation did not last long enough for him to plot as far as he would like. Two men in what had to be designer office wear were standing next to him at a pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to turn green. But that in itself was harmless. It was the fact that the shorter of the two, the one who was explaining something very animatedly to his colleague, practically painting a scene with his hands, suddenly mentioned your name – each syllable resounding like a gunshot.

Could it be someone else? Maybe there was another Y/N out there, in this same district – there were thousands of people in these offices, so the chances were definitely not zero. But as Seonghwa discreetly listened in, it became clearer and clearer – these were your colleagues, and they were talking about you. And in a way that set off every single alarm bell in Seonghwa’s totally mission-focused brain.

“Look Yeo, I’m telling you she is super cute. And I don’t give me that look. So what if she agreed to a meeting only on Friday? It doesn’t mean you have zero chance.”

Sure you do. Seonghwa mentally responded, but furrowed his brows as he realised that he was being protective of someone who was not actually his someone, but a fake someone who, in reality, he was conducting questionable business with. Technically, that meant that you could date in secret – as long as it was hidden from the eyes of your superiors. Would you do it? There wasn’t exactly any infidelity to speak of if you did, since he was just an old college friend and a complicated present social tie-up. No. No you couldn’t. This kind of connection would risk your promotion, wouldn’t it? Whatever these fiends were plotting could very well ruin your career, and he, acting in the role of your husband, had to think of a strategy to put a stop to this.

“It just means that she is a busy woman, on her grind, achieving and thriving – just your type, isn’t that right?” the enthusiastic man who, much like Seonghwa, was dressed head to toe in black, and sported a long parted fringe that framed his beaming face, continued his encouragements. Except the mention of types, he was right, at least. You were busy. Too busy to consider them, so they should make their damn exit.

The stubborn light was still red as cars continued to dash past the trio. The man by the name of Yeo, which Seonghwa assumed was an abbreviation or a nickname, was good looking enough for him to be irritated. A muscular physique, with perfect skin and impeccably styled locks that highlighted his features that looked to have been sculpted by some aesthetic deities… yes, this man had to disappear out of yours and Seonghwa’s shared life immediately. Seonghwa did not need a man he ‘did not have to worry about’ right there in the same office space as you.

“Mm, right.”

A man of few words, huh? Maybe that was his problem. Then there was a chance that you would drop him fast as lightning – you liked your philosophical discussions, always did and if he could not formulate an opinion, he was automatically out of the game-

“But I do not wish to be a burden for her, Wooyoung. As much as I admire and respect her, I am only a slot in her timetable at the moment. And whilst I appreciate your support, we should remain realistic and pace ourselves.”

Shit. His voice was deep and dependable. And he had fantastic rhythm to his speech. Uh oh. Seonghwa suddenly wished that he was still in the café with you, and had, instead of letting you go to have the strong double shot of bitterness at your desk, insisted that you spent some more time together. Then he would not hear this atrocity, and since the café was not far from the building, they might have detected you in the shop front window. Would have been a win-win situation. Alas, this Yeo, and his equally ambitious friend Wooyoung had to be combatted in more creative ways.

Seonghwa’s hands moved on their own accord as he took out his mobile phone, scrolling to the contact he had saved as ‘wife’, with not one but two upwards graph emojis as an ode to your job, and clicking the call button. As he heard you answer with a cautious, whispered hello and an elaboration that he should wait a second as you moved to a conference room, the initial wave of panic subsided and he relaxed into your tone.

“What is it, Hwa?” if only he could loop how you said his nickname and listen to it whenever he wanted… no, he must remain focused.

“Hey, Y/N!” he purposefully spoke louder, spotting in his peripherals that he had caught the attention of the duo. Their conversation had lulled, and they were pretending to be looking at the light to cross, but in reality, were tuning their imaginary antennae to pick up more of the conversation.

“Yes, ‘tis me. And we literally just spoke, what’s up?” he heard a sliding of a door, and the ambiance changing to that of a closed space, giving your voice more space to bloom and show its colour. Seonghwa smiled, stalling a bit before picking up a simple conversation topic, but pointing towards a mock level of intimacy that a certain Yeo should never reach.

“How’s the breakfast?” he refrained from chuckling as he saw Wooyoung appear particularly bewildered.

“Honestly it was exactly what I needed right now, I am already feeling so much better. Thank you for it, and for treating me, really.”

“Oh, not a problem at all! Anything for you.” Even though he inwardly cringed at the phrase, it seemed to have a desired effect on his audience who exchanged confused glances. At the same time, you moved the phone away from you and snorted in laughter.

“You sound so awkward right now what the hell? You good?” he needed to think fast. How could he avoid saying that he was ‘overstepping boundaries and barely a week into a fake relationship was acting lowkey possessive of you to the point where he felt the need to assert dominance over people who simply mentioned you’? That was right. What was going to annoy you enough to let go of his questionable behaviour?

“Uhm… well, could you point me in the direction of the metro again?” Bingo. The groan that you let out, and undoubtedly followed by a rolling of the eyes, was enough for him to confirm that you fully bought the little fib. He swore he heard that same man, Wooyoung, scoff, while Yeo remained suspiciously quiet.

“Are you kidding me? I literally just explained that from the café, you take a right, and then-”

“Ah, a right… so that’s where the problem is…” he continued, intentionally adding sprinklings of cluelessness to his act.

“You can’t be serious… Park Seonghwa where are you?” strict, but adorably concerned for his wellbeing, you asked.

“At a crossing.”

“What crossing?”

“There is a fancy fountain on the other side of the street.”

“You’re there? Damn, you know what, stay put, I will walk you to the station seeing as you are directionally challenged.” And with that, he could make out the sound of footsteps on a carpeted floor, a rustling as you probably pressed the phone to your shirt, distant ‘I’ll be back in a bit’ and, in a matter of moments, clicking and a much stronger echo to each sound.

“I’ll take that label and wear it with pride, Y/N. Then, see you soon, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, oh directionally challenged man. I’ll be there in five. Stay put and don’t get lost in the square please. Like, find a bench or something and don’t move.” A ding of an elevator. You ended the call. And now, each stride like that of a victor in a ruthless battle, he overtook the two men who were not so discreetly gawking at him, with the goal of finding some bench in the square to sit on and await your arrival.

Seonghwa thought that his performance was over, and relaxed into the seat that he had stumbled upon: partially in the shade of a green maple, but still welcoming some of the more amiable sun rays. But little did he know that, instead of this being an epilogue to the indirect interaction with your colleagues that threatened his pride, he had just inadvertently completed a tutorial, and now was in for a game of a lifetime.

“Uhm, excuse me? Pardon for my very rude behaviour, but I believe I overheard you mentioning a certain Y/N that works around here?”

Seonghwa raised his head, which had previously been resting on the back of the bench, only to discover that the two men he had perceived as a threat to his status, in particular that Greek statue in the form of Yeo, were standing right in front of him, expectant.

“Yes… I did indeed. And who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah, before we introduce ourselves, would you confirm if this is L/N Y/N you were talking to?”

“…Yes?” Seonghwa stood up, in a last-minute effort to be polite towards the gentlemen, who only a few minutes ago, he wanted to erase from the planet, or at least from your plans. They accepted the gesture and gave him space.

The sun was beating down on Seonghwa more aggressively than before, making him wonder whether this was due to it actually getting hotter, or because he was more and more enticed by the idea of the ground opening up beneath him and letting him exit the conversation.

“Right, sorry for the suddenness. It’s just that we are her colleagues. Well, from different departments but still. I am Jung Wooyoung. Human Resources.” A bow, another bow. Wooyoung did not look too pleased, clearly reading his every micromovement.

“I’m Kang Yeosang. Cybersecurity.” Passive enough, neither of the two cared enough to try and be threatening.

“And you?” Wooyoung inquired, raising his eyebrows.

“Ah yes, apologies. Park Seonghwa. Department not found.”

Polite chuckles. Dead silence. Wind whistling. Where were you? The three fumbled for anything to say, finally settling on the weather, and then moving towards neutral work topics. Evidently, Wooyoung had a lot more to say, and with each passing minute, the coil on which said questions were contained was being wound tighter and tighter, until it was ready to damn near detonate.

“What is this gang meet up, huh?” finally, you appeared from behind a tall hedge, your work pass hanging around your neck from a lanyard, swaying with each step you took. Once you approached the group, you looked at each member of the trio, pausing when you saw Yeosang.

“Ah hello! You must be Yeosang, right? I guess we are meeting sooner than expected.” Chuckling in pure corporate, you nodded in greeting.

“Indeed, we are. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So, Y/N, care to explain… this mister Seonghwa?” Wooyoung interjected, his curiosity getting the best of him.

This was deeply disconcerting, you concluded. There was an element to this ordeal that you were missing, and this element was crucial to understanding how Wooyoung was going to proceed. He was smart, perceptive. You could even dare to say ‘cunning’. And it was apparent that he had caught onto something, and was not going to let go until everything came to light. You bit the inside of your cheek as you glanced at Seonghwa, who was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact. There was one clean way out, and one that was inevitably going to make you, and the man in front of you snowball into something only fate could decide the outcome of. While chances were slim, nevertheless you took the first option…

“Well, you already got to know one another. I’d say that’s enough. Now, I need to take this man to the metro so if you don’t mind, we will be heading over yonder-” …only for it to fail miserably as Wooyoung saw through you.

“Oh no, no, like… who is this? A friend? A boyfriend? I need details, you are having breakfast and stuff together… who is he?”

If looks could kill, then you would be a fake widow. It did not take much brain power to figure out that the conversation you had over the phone had been staged for whatever reason. And now, you were in a mess where your little sitcom for a promotion might shut down… unless you committed. Fully. Wooyoung was staring you down. Yeosang had one eyebrow raised and arms crossed, judging. And Seonghwa was only a few levels away from impersonating Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’. To hell with all of this. Deep breath in. Breath out.

“My husband.”

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writesaboutdragons · 1 month ago

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365 Promises of God

Day 296 – Tyre Shall Be Scraped Clean and Cast into the Sea

"Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: 'Behold, I [am] against you, O Tyre, and will cause many nations to come up against you, as the sea causes its waves to come up. 'And they shall destroy the walls of Tyre and break down her towers; I will also scrape her dust from her, and make her like the top of a rock. (Eze 26:3-4 NKJV)

Read: Ezekiel 26

Today’s promise is to the ancient city of Tyre, and is more of a prophecy. So, why would I bring it up? Mainly because it stands out as the most incredibly accurate prophecy in the Bible, and is clear proof that the Bible is divinely inspired.

Ezekiel the prophet predicted that like the sea waves, armies would come up against Tyre again and again, until it was destroyed. But God doesn’t leave it there. Eze 26 tells them that the walls of Tyre would be broken down, and her towers, too. That her timbers and walls would be cast into the sea. And even the dust of her would be scraped off, leaving Tyre like the top of a rock. This astounding and unlikely prophesy is one of the most amazing predictions found in scripture, and one of the best evidences for the divine inspiration of the Word of God.

In v3 he predicts that many nations would attack, and in v7 he names Babylon as the first. In v12 he promises that the stones, timbers and debris would be thrown into the sea. In v4 he predicts that the bare rock would be scraped clean, a place for drying fisherman’s nets.

Finally, he promises Tyre would never be rebuilt (v21). Eight times in this chapter it is clearly stated that the words spoken are from the Lord God.

Yet, at the time this prophecy was given, Tyre was a great Phoenician city and world capital, and had been so for almost 2000 years. It had clear dominance of the seas. It consisted of a small but well-developed island about a half-mile out, and a large mainland city with high walls, strong gates, and freshwater springs that supplied the city. Farms and livestock inside the city walls made a siege meaningless. The prediction was laughable. But then God…

In 586 BC, 3 years after this prophecy, Babylon laid siege to Tyre. Inhabitants who saw this coming fled to an island a half mile out to sea. For 13 years Babylon laid siege to the great mainland city of Tyre. When it became obvious they would never be starved out, battering rams were brought up and shields locked overhead to protect those driving the rams from arrows and rocks raining down from above. Once breached, chariots raced into the city, stirring up dust over the entire city, as Babylon’s army slaughtered those on the mainland. This was a hollow victory, however, because the wealthy lived on the island, within sight of the army, but out of reach. In his rage, Nebuchadnezzar ordered the walls broken down and the towers broken down as well, leaving just a pile of rubble where the city used to stand. But it wasn’t scraped clean, was it?

After the fall of Mainland Tyre, the citizens of Tyre built a giant sea wall around their island and port, and continued to do a profitable business using their great fleet. They continued to dominate the sea, but never again built on the ruins of the mainland city.

241 years after Nebuchadnezzar’s destruction of Mainland Tyre, Alexander the Great marched to conquer Persia. But before he did, he needed to ensure that Tyre, which commanded such a massive fleet, would not attack Greece while he was gone. So he marched to the site of the old city, and sent emissaries in boats to demand the surrender of the city on the island. Of course, they refused. After all, what could he do about it? He had no navy.

Alexander had his chief architect Diades construct a causeway out to the island 800 meters away. He did this by having the army cart the rubble of the old city to the sea, and cast it in, fulfilling the prophesy in v12. The stones and timber of the walls filled the intervening area, and the dirt of the streets and outlying areas was scraped off, to form a packed top sufficient to carry siegeworks across to the island, which was now more of a peninsula. So the debris of the city was scraped off, just as promised 244 years before. The island city of Tyre fell to Alexander’s great army. They broke through the Sea wall and slaughtered the people, carried off the treasure and burned the ships. Its ruins can still be seen to this day.

If you examine the location of Tyre now, you will see that instead of an island it is a peninsula. The city actually now resides on Alexander’s Causeway. And where the main city used to be, there is only a park, and a place for fishermen to fish.

The promise I unpacked today was to the City of Tyre and its inhabitants, and not to you and me. But the gift it gives us is more valuable than the treasure of this ancient city. You see, through the clear presentation and fulfilment of prophesy like this, we can find rock-solid faith in the God who wrote it. Far more solid, even, that the causeway Alexander built while fulfilling this promise.

Prayer:

Father God, thank you for this incredible prophesy, such compelling proof that you say what you mean, and mean what you say. May others find trust in your word as well, today. Amen

#christian #writing #devotional #365 devos #365 promises of god #prophecy #the bible #christblr #word of god #Babylon #Tyre

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ravennaortiz · 4 months ago

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This is a collection of stories featuring my lovely OC's

Return to Collection page

Charlotte"Charlie" Teller

The Princess and The Prospect-Featuring Ratboy

Chloe Morrow

Secret - Part 1 Part 2- Featuring Juice

Crime Scene

Cori Lowman

Pumpkin Patch-Featuring Juice

Revenge-Featuring Happy,Juice,EZ,Angel

I'll take her-Featuring Happy

Happys Story in the Raising girls series

Sledding-Featuring Angel

Kara Kozik

Koziks Story in the Raising Girls Series

Morgana Telford

Chibs Story in Raising Girls Series

Raven Trager

Tigs Story in Raising Girls

Be My First- Featuring Juice

Story #5 in 3 is the magic number series

Reverie Winston

Brother vs Boyfriend- Featuring Halfsack,Jax,Opie

Rockette "Rocky" Teller

Countdown-Multi Chapter WIP-Featuring SONS and Mayans

Jaxs Story in Raising Girls

Scarlett "Scar" Teller

Lost and Found- 4 Chapter Story

Stormie "Storm" Rayne Epps

Sunshine-Multi Chapter fic WIP-Features Halfsack,Juice

Daniela "Dani" Reyes

Second Chances-Featuring Coco

Cocos Story in Raising Girls Series

Guadalupe "Lupe" Mendoza

Two Worlds-Features SONS and Mayans

Katalina Moreno-Losa

Bishops Story for Raising Girls Series

What Haunts the Girls-Snippet

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sanrrioz · 7 months ago

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RIO BAILEY, known professionally as RIO, is the sole female member in co-ed K-Pop group TOMORROX X TOGETHER. She debuted under BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT with the mini album THE DREAM CHAPTER : STAR in 2019. Since her debut, RIO has been praised for her excellent performances and due to the impact she has made on the industry has been named the 4TH GEN IT GIRL.

##. CAREER

STAGE NAME : RIO

REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI : 🐨

COMPANY : BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT / HYBE

TRAINEE PERIOD : 2 YEARS (2017 - 2019)

DEBUT DATE : MARCH 4 2019

DEBUT ALBUM : THE DREAM CHAPTER : STAR

SOLO FANDOM NAME : STARIOZ

##. PERSONAL

FULL NAME : RIO BAILEY

NICKNAMES : RI , RORO , CHEERIO , BYEOL ("STAR" - YEONJUN) , SARANGIO

BIRTHDAY : 17 JUNE 2002

ZODIAC SIGN : GEMINI

BIRTHPLACE : MANCHESTER , UNITED KINGDOM

NATIONALITY : BRITISH - KOREAN

ETHNICITY : NIGERIAN-JAMAICAN

LANGUAGES : ENGLISH (FIRST LANGUAGE) , KOREAN (FLUENT) , BRITISH & KOREAN SIGN LANGUAGE (FLUENT)

##. PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : RENEE DOWNER (FLO)

VOICE CLAIM : NATTY (KISS OF LIFE)

DANCE CLAIM : XIAOTING (KEP1ER)

RAP CLAIM : RYUJIN (ITZY)

##. APPEARANCE

HEIGHT : 175CM (5'8)

PIERCINGS : 7

TATOOS : 2

SEXUALITY : BISEXUAL

##. FAMILY

FATHER : ABENI EZE (b. 1976)

MOTHER : NAOMI BAILEY (b. 1976)

BROTHER : CAIRO BAIELY (b. 1999)

SISTER : MILAN BAILEY (b. 2000)

##. FACTS

although RIO was born in MANCHESTER, she moved to INCHEON with her family in 2014 for her mom's teaching job

her dad is hard of hearing and her older brother was born deaf so she grew up signing

RIO is extremely athletic and grew up playing a lot of sports including swimming, volleyball and others, though track and field was her favourite

it was while living in KOREA that RIO started taking after school dance classes as she couldn't maintain all the same sports as before

she was scouted by three companies while on a trip to SEOUL with her siblings and it was her older sister who encouraged her to audition

she love love loves the ocean and any opportunity to go to the beach, she will take it

her instagram account RIIOZZ is the most followed out of the members and all of 4th gen idols with 18 million followers

she is a collector; fridge magnets, postcards, movie ticket stubs, she keeps them all

#𖦹.ㅤㅤㅤchasing that feelingㅤㅤㅤ ›› ㅤㅤㅤrio .#ficnetfairy #txt added member #txt 6th member #txt additional member #txt female addition #txt female member #kpop added member #kpop female addition #kpop addition

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wheredidalltheusersgo · 1 year ago

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The Stranded and The Scaly

Chapter 5 Day 4: The Attack

Content warnings for chapter: Blood, general violence

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Geoff dashed through the forest in pursuit of the thing that had stolen his duffel bag.

He pushed branches and leaves out of his way as he ran, wincing as the branches scraped at his skin. They wouldn't leave a wound deeper than a scratch, though. It wasn't like the trees were alive and deliberately trying to hurt him, anyway.

He tried his hardest to stay on the beast's trail, but he was losing stamina.

Through trees and bushes they ran, over rocks and fallen logs they leaped, but Geoff wasn't getting any closer to the creature. He couldn't make out exactly what the thing was, anyways. It was a mash of different animals, a freaky little bastard of a thief.

When he happened to step in a puddle of murky green-brown water, Geoff realized just how far he was from his campsite.

As he looked around at the area he was in, he realized that it was a swamp. A potentially dangerous swamp.

He looked across the pond of nasty-looking water and spotted his bag under a tree, the beast dropped it! Now, he just needed a way to cross the larger body of water. A couple of flat-topped stones jutted up from the surface of the water, perfect! He knew how to work with stepping stones!

He took a few steps back before running forwards and leaping onto the closest stepping stone.

He wobbled a bit in place before regaining his balance and leaping to the next stone.

All he had to do was not fall in! He glanced at the next "stone" in his path... except it looked more like a moldy log?

Nevertheless, he took the jump and stood on the "log".

....did he just hear a growl? Did the log just MOVE?!

Geoff struggled to keep his balance as the thing he was standing on began to rise out of the water.

Before he could leap off, he was grabbed by a large, sickly green tentacle. He gasped in shock as the creature rose fully out of the water and glared at him with piercing amber eyes.

It was a mutant alligator?!?!

"Woah, woah! Nice gator.... didn't mean to tread on you! Please let me go?..." he spoke in an attempt to soothe the giant beast.

Geoff only had a split second to catch his breath before the monstrous alligator used it's slimy appendage to slam him onto the ground.

He propped himself up with one arm as he desperately tried to regain the air that the gator had knocked out of his lungs. After only a few gasps, he felt a searing pain in his right leg as the gator sunk it's teeth into his flesh. He hissed in pain, was he going to die here after all?! Was he going to become gator chow?! He hadn't even gotten to celebrate his 18th birthday yet!!..

The gator lifted him off the ground by his leg and swung him around like a ragdoll before throwing him directly into a tree.

Geoff's cries of agony echoed through the swamp as his body made contact with the tree.

He fell to the ground in a heap and sobbed from the stinging, burning sensation in his right leg and the harsh ache in his back from the impact with the tree.

Everything was blurry and slow, he could only make out the deep, bloody wound on his leg and the faint figure of the mutant gator coming to finish him off.

He shut his eyes and was ready to accept his fate when something leaped out of the trees and latched onto the alligator's snout.

Geoff couldn't quite make out what the figure was doing, but it seemed to be attacking the beast!

The figure clawed wildly at the alligator's snout and eyes as the beast snarled in pain.

Geoff could only watch, he was too dazed with pain to do anything else.

After a series of scratching, screeching, and hissing from the blurry figure in a display of dominance, the alligator retreated into the water.

The figure began to approach Geoff, and as it got closer, he found that he could begin to make out more of what the figure really looked like. It was.... humanoid?

It wasn't long before Geoff was met with a familiar face, it was Ezekiel!

"Eze...Ezekiel?... Zeke?...Homeschool?... is that you?.." Geoff smiled weakly as he spoke. Ezekiel's eyes widened as he grunted in response. "Boy, am I glad to see you!..." Geoff let out a breathy chuckle. "I've been so lonely on this damn island... I'm so happy you're here!...." Ezekiel's brows furrowed in worry at Geoff's tone, but that feeling quickly turned to alarm once he took a glance at Geoff's leg.

Noticing Ezekiel's alarm, Geoff spoke up again. "Oh, that.... it's probably nothing... is it getting hot here, or is it just me?... I'm sweating!... heh...." It wasn't hot, Geoff was burning up, he was growing feverish.

"Are the others here?.. Did they remember me?... Please stay with me, you know I hate being alone, Zeke...... " Geoff trailed off as he slipped from consciousness.

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#EZEKIEL'S HEEEEREEE #and geoff is suffering #the price of being my blorbo #total drama #td geoff #td ezekiel #The Stranded and the Scaly #fanfic #total drama island #mutant ezekiel #comments appreciated!

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garbinge · 1 year ago

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Contaminated (12/?)

Bishop Losa!Dad x OC Lara Barrera Losa Angel Reyes x OC Lara Losa

A/N: Been a MINUTE. But since it’s been a while I figured I’d give you something to hold you over so enjoy all 6k words of this!

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of sex, murder, death, violence, drugs, and alcohol. Angsty, sad, heartbreaking.

Word Count: 6.5k

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

Weeks had passed without incident. In every aspect of, well, everything. The Calavaras hadn’t left a note, made an appearance, or made themselves known at all to the club or to Lara. And per Bishop’s rules, Lara was home at 10 every night. No one suspected Angel and Lara of anything, including Frankie or EZ. Overall, things were going pretty well.

Lara made her way out of her room, it was early but she had the first shift at the restaurant today, some business meeting rented the entire restaurant out. Lara walked down the hallway of her apartment and froze when she saw Bishop sitting at the island in the kitchen. After the initial startle of things, Lara kept walking over to him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Frankie let me in while she was, well I think on her way in, also.” Bishop tried to joke and ended his sentence with a chuckle.

“Yea not everyone has an early curfew.” Lara rubbed the sleep out of her eye as she reached for a mug and poured a cup of coffee for both her and Bishop.

She turned around and placed the cup in front of Bishop, “4 sugars, no cream.”

He nodded and wrapped his hand around the mug, letting the liquid cool down before sipping it. The only sound that could be heard was the clock mounted on the wall ticking, the blinds blowing in the subtle morning breeze from the window, and the slight slurps of Lara sipping her coffee.

“Why are you here? I’ve been abiding by your rules. Home by 10, everyday. There haven’t been any notes. What’s your beef?” Lara crossed her arms.

“No beef. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” Bishop picked something out of his pocket and pushed it across the island towards his daughter. It was a long black velvet box.

Lara stared at the box for a couple minutes before uncrossing her arms. “I honestly forgot it was today.” She shook her head and pulled the seat up across from her father and made her self comfortable. “You didn’t have to do this.” She pushed the box back to him.

“It was your mother’s, birthday or not, you should have it. It was one of the first pieces of jewelry she made.” Bishop left the box where it was and finished his cup of coffee in one last sip. He stood up from the table. “That was all I came for, thanks for making things easy. I–uh, I’m handling the Calaveras. It’s not done yet but we’re almost there.” Bishop offered up the smallest piece of information he could, but Lara knew it was a lot for him. But even though it was a lot, it wasn’t enough for her.

“Thanks.” Lara said with nothing else but a nod.

Bishop began walking away towards the front door, he did what he came to do, and even though it pained him to leave like this, he knew he had to, but not without one last try. “There’s a party tonight at the club house. You should come. Forget about the curfew, you’ll be with the club, and if you want to go home, I’ll have one of the guys bring you home.” Bishop was turned slightly with his hand on the doorknob but looking for some type of acknowledgement from Lara.

“Birthday party? The guys better have presents for me.”

Bishop let out a genuine laugh at that comment, there she was, the daughter he knew. While, he was well aware that she was joking, he also knew it wasn’t his place to joke back with her yet so he left with a chuckle and a ‘see you tonight.’

Lara let out a breath after Bishop left and laid her body across the kitchen island almost in defeat. It was easy to put a front up to Bishop, especially while she was still upset with him, but the aftermath of that looked messy for Lara. Her head laid on the cold countertop of the island as she let out a groan, as her arm sprawled across the island it bumped into the velvet box, pushing it a couple inches away. She looked up through her hair and hesitated before finally grabbing the box and opening it.

It was a soft, silver metal chain. Thin and dainty with a small clasp that could you tell was attached by hand. Lara’s hand glided against the chain until it hit the main design of the bracelet. 3 butterflies, all welded together. They looked like they were made from spoon handles, one of Lara’s favorite things to use for jewelry making.

“I wish you were here.” Lara mumbled as she clasped the bracelet around her arm.

____________

So, the business meeting at her job was more of a Galindo rent-a-space situation. The morning consisted of breakfast with Miguel and his family. That lasted longer than Lara expected a brunch would, but I guess family time was limited with the Galindo’s and they’d take any opportunity of shared time. After that, Marcus had showed up along with who Lara knew was Miguel’s head of security. It was news to Lara that Marcus was getting buddy buddy with Miguel and crew, luckily as he was walking into the restaurant wasn’t her way of finding out. Marcus had left a note for her the day before at her hostess stand.

Mi sobrina. I’m taking you up on your offer. Don’t need the free meal, but could use the space tomorrow for business. Make the reservation under Galindo. Whole restaurant, all day. Left a deposit with the owner but wanted to give you the heads up. Didn’t mention you, but I can if it’ll help. Love you, see you tomorrow. - Tio Marcus.

It was now hours into their meeting upstairs, it was pretty quiet in the space, some chatter from the group of men but besides that it was her and one other waitress who Lara knew could keep things disclosed without issue. Lara was at the hostess stand figuring out the rest of the weeks reservations and caterings.

“Lara.” Marcus nodded as he approached the girl. Lara looked up a bit frazzled but relaxed and shook her head once she saw Marcus with a soft smile on his face.

“Everything okay? Anything I can get you guys?” Lara closed the planner she was working in and stacked the restaurant’s iPad on top of it as she leaned onto the stand.

“No, no, everything is perfect, you set us up perfectly. Discrete. Good food.” Marcus put his hands to rest on the hostess stand as he spoke. “Just came over to thank you and let you know they’re wrapping up soon. I know we’ve been here a long time.” He smiled as he looked up at the clock above.

“No worries, I blocked out everything for the whole day to be safe.”

Marcus nodded and tapped his fist lightly on the top part of the stand. He had his riding gloves on, but Lara knew he didn’t bring his bike here.

“You still ride?” She pointed to the gloves.

“Any chance I get.” He answered her quickly. “You can take the biker out the club but you can’t take the biker out the man.”

Lara let out a scoff, it was meant to be more of a chuckle but it definitely came out more harsh. Marcus picked up on it and gave her a look. “Sorry, just–” she paused wondering how much she wanted to share with him, how much he already knew.

“He’s protecting you.” Marcus started at the girl straight in her eyes. “It’s what I would do, too.”

Lara knew better than to argue with Marcus, so she nodded and broke eye contact. Marcus didn’t mean to overpower the girl, it was a demeanor that he just had. He also was good at reading the room so he quickly changed topics and lightened the mood.

“I’m getting out of here but Izzy is hounding me to get you over the house.” He stepped back a few feet which is when the rest of the Galindo crew started to make their way downstairs. “Oh and uh, happy birthday. It’s today, right?”

Lara smiled, “yep, another year wiser.” She gave a wink with a grin.

“Thank you for the hospitality.” Miguel was now in earshot as he buttoned his suit jacket and placed his cellphone in his pocket.

Lara answered him with a simple nod and with that he was out the door that Marcus was holding open for him.

“Yea, uh, thanks for the hospitality, and giving us something pretty to look at.” Galindo’s head of security nodded up at Lara.

At this point, Marcus and Miguel were outside already, getting into the various G-Wagons that were parked out front.

“I’m Nestor, I can drop you off if you need a ride? Or we could hang out?” the man with braids outreached his hand over to Lara entering her personal space. She took a step back to create more space between them before shaking his hand. There wasn’t much room behind the hostess stand so she was leaning up against the marble counter that served as a divider from the entrance to the restaurant.

Their handshake dropped, and before Lara could answer, someone else’s voice spoke up.

“What’s up, Pippy Longstockings?” Angel’s voice was full of pettiness and a little humor. His gaze landed on Lara and he smirked.

Nestor looked over at Angel who was standing next to him, and then turned back to Lara. “I guess we’ll rain check that ride home.”

“It’s okay, Angel normally gives me a ride home.”

“And if he can’t?”

“Then I’m here.” Bishop’s voice could be described as booming. It was loud and firm as he walked into the restaurant. It echoed against the empty walls of The Villa.

Lara brought her hand up to rub her forehead as her eyebrows raised in embarrassment. Nestor took the hint without issue, made his exit quick and quiet leaving the two bikers in front of Lara. Without words she shook her head and wrinkled her forehead as her hands raised.

“Figured we’d give you an escort to the club. Frankie’s there already.” Bishop gave an answer to Lara’s silent question.

“Takes two of you?” Lara tried to give off an attitude to throw any trail of her and Angel’s secret relationship to the wind.

“Angel and I were doing shit nearby, figured you could use the escort.” Bishop said.

“I had Frankie drop me off this morning, don’t have my car. Gonna have to hop on your bike.” She was looking at Bishop when she said it, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. If it was up to her she’d ask Angel to drive her out of town, get far away from the MC, from her father, or at the very least she would have asked him to take her home and hang there for the night. But instead, she had to save face, which meant doing exactly what she didn’t want.

“Angel will take you to the clubhouse.” Bishop said looking at his phone. “I got something I gotta handle.”

Angel looked back to his president and moved his head towards the burner cell. “All good, prez?”

“Yea, yea, it’s Sophie.” Bishop said putting his phone back in his pocket.

Lara bit her tongue, she wanted to say something to tease her father. Sophie and Bishop was something she had toyed with setting up in her head a lot and to see that over the last few weeks something was starting up between them made her a bit happy. Bishop needed that. Maybe it’d offer Lara some benefit as well.

Luckily for Lara, Angel didn’t need to bite his tongue.

“Bow chicka bowwww wowwww, Bish. Didn’t know you started pressin’ up on that.” Angel said as he lightly tapped Bishop like he was fake boxing with him.

“I ain’t pressin’ up on shit.” Bishop pushed Angel’s hands away.

Angel raised his hands in surrender but still had the biggest smile on his face. “You got it, Bish.”

Lara was holding back the biggest laugh, it was a breath of fresh air, but then again these past couple weeks have been that with Angel. Despite trying to hide their relationship, things were great with them. They were going on dates, out of town but dates none the less, they were sneaking over each others places, talking, it was exactly what the girl needed.

“Go, both of you, before I decide I need you to wash my truck and my bike tonight conveniently making you unavailable for the party.” Bishop stared at Angel.

Angel nodded knowing not to argue with Bishop anymore. He lead the way out the restaurant, holding the door open as Lara grabbed her jacket and bag. As she slung her bag over her shoulder her eyes met with Bishops, instead of letting them linger she gave a half ass smile and nod and walked past him towards Angel who had the door open. Bishop followed shortly behind her, and made his way towards his bike, not saying anything else. As he started his bike he lifted his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, but he knew there was tension between him and his daughter. Lara didn’t do any but look at him before averting her gaze to Angel who was still holding the door open.

“You can wait outside, I have to lock up.” She dangled the keys as she spoke to Angel while the sound of Bishop’s bike faded in the distance.

He nodded and moved through the second set of doors to The Villa and stood right next to it on the outside.

Lara shut the lights off and slid the latch over the door before locking it, she turned to the second door and made her way outside. Her hand grasped the handle and closed it shut, she played with the key ring looking for the right one to lock the door.

“You know you don’t need to stay so close.” She said it with a smile.

Angel smiled back as he leaned against the window of the restaurant. “Looks good to Bishop. To him I’m just your protection.”

“I don’t see Bishop here anymore.” Lara said as she finished locking the door and moved to lean against it looking up to Angel. “Plus I don’t think you need to monitor my every move.”

“I don’t know about that, I think you got a couple moves I need to monitor.” His smile turned into a grin.

“Shut tup and take me to the clubhouse. And if you go over 80, there will be no monitoring of any moves.” Lara pushed herself off the glass and made her way to his bike. Angel was close behind her as they approached his bike. As they got situated on the bike, Angel grabbed his helmet and passed it to the girl before turning over the bike to start.

“Happy Birthday.” Angel said over the engine.

She froze with her hand on the helmet she was putting on. She was staring at the back of him wondering if maybe she heard him wrong. “You remembered my birthday?”

“Heard Bish mention it to Hank today.” He said as he placed his riding gloves on.

“Thanks.” Lara said awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday is coming up?” Angel asked curiously.

Lara thought about how she wanted to answer, there was a truth behind why her birthday was not something that was celebrated too often. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to open up about it, especially to Angel.

“I stopped paying attention years ago, you know, after 21.” She shrugged it off. Angel accepted the answer and went to hit the kickstand up on his bike while Lara moved her hands around his waist. She felt the awkward tension, the fact she kept something from him, the very clear excuse behind why her next words weren’t exactly what she wanted, but she knew it’d get a laugh out of him. “So what’d you get me?” Her head rested on his shoulder.

With a chuckle and a shake of his head he looked back at her, “was hard to pull together a last minute gift.” And with that, they drove off.

______________

Lara let out a belly laugh as she casually bumped into Angel on the picnic table they were sitting at with Frankie, EZ, and Coco. EZ’s laugh was comparable in volume. The group of them were having the time of their lives at the club party. To be honest, since Lara and Angel had started their sneaking around, or as their group of friends looked at it, their newly found friendship vs their previous bickering, the entire group of them had a really great time together.

Angel wasn’t even drinking that night, he took his responsibility for Lara seriously. He knew Bishop wouldn’t let him be the one to keep eyes on her if he fucked anything up so if that meant sticking to cigarettes at a club party then so be it.

EZ stood up from the table, grabbing everyone’s empties. “‘nother round?” he asked looking around the table for confirmation.

“I’m good.” Angel replied a little too quick to get past EZ. His younger brother stared at him with a slight frown for a minute before his thoughts were interrupted by the girls.

“Yea I could have another.” Frankie was scrolling on her phone, barely paying attention to what was around her.

“I’ll have one more.” Lara said before pulling her own phone out.

EZ frowned deeper, and this time his reaction was matched. Frankie was looking up from her phone now at her best friend in shock. “One more?” Her voice was confused. Despite it being just a general out of the norm behavior for Lara, it was her birthday, which made it all the more weird she wasn’t drinking much.

“Long day, I’m tired.” Lara shrugged it off, paying more attention to her phone than the company around her in hopes to get them off her back.

“It’s your birthday.” Frankie stated like that fact changed everything.

“So?” Her shrug would’ve been enough to say it all but the added ‘so’ was the cherry on top for Frankie.

“What is it? Your 50th birthday? Too old to party? Take a shot.” Frankie was a little tipsy which was where the encouragement to drink was coming from.

“Even the 50 year olds can hang.” Coco said pointing to the group of the older Mayan men who were hollering about something or someone, clearly wasted beyond their means.

Lara had looked up to see where Coco was pointing to which is when she saw Bishop making his way in from the gates of the club. He was just getting in from wherever he was with Sophie, if that was the truth. His eyes were scanning the lot, taking in the state of his clubhouse. Lara could tell he was taking note of everything, who was here, who had disappeared, what the state of the yard looked like, how many people were already passed out on some piece of furniture, and that’s when their eyes met. His eyes softened, it was a look Bishop rarely was able to give anymore, but just seeing his daughter sucker punched it out of him. It was one of the many reasons he hated having her around the club. She made him soft. It was a weak spot, and anyone with eyes could see that. Bishop nodded his head at the girl. There was a lot being said in the gesture and Lara knew that. At some point while Frankie was explaining how Lara aged into an elderly woman because she only wanted one more beer, EZ had retreated to the clubhouse to get the drinks. The beer clinked down in front of Lara and without even looking down she took it and raised it towards Bishop. His eyes moved to the beer and that’s when he saw the bracelet on her arm. A smirk filled his face for the quickest second, it felt like a win for him. He left expecting the girl to not even look at the gift, let alone wear it. But it felt like his effort had been received. And just like that, her eyes moved and it was like nothing had happened.

Lara was mentally not okay. Between her the weight of her birthday, the tension with Bishop and the fact that Frankie had started to drink hard liquor, she just wanted to go home. Her eyes scanned over Angel who was in a deep conversation with Coco about god knows what. Her mind was trying to process the best way to go about leaving where Angel could take her without it being obvious she wanted him to take her. After a few minutes of thought, she was up and moving towards Bishop.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go home.” She said interrupting his conversation with a patch from another charter. Bishop turned to Lara shocked she was talking to him.

“You sure? I had the prospect pick you up a cake.”

Bishop’s voice wasn’t normal. The sentence even earned him a look from the people around him. He was trying. Which is why the next words out of Lara’s mouth killed her to say but she couldn’t deal with him pushing her out when he wanted and bringing her back in when he wanted. She knew he had valid points for doing what he did, but after all this time, she was done with him pushing her away and despite the fact that he was inviting her in again, she wasn’t going to be stuck in a cycle of this. She had to break it.

“Don’t want cake.” She stared at Bishop with a neutral face. It was silent between them, the few guys that were around Bishop had gotten up and moved, clearly feeling the vibe. “So am I ubering or is one of the guys taking me home?” Her arms moved to her back pockets but in no way was she relaxed.

“You don’t need to check in with me, you can just go home.” Bishop said a little more like the president of the club now, not Lara’s father.

Lara let a laugh out, it was unbelievable what he just said and she was going to let him know. “Don’t bullshit me. If I took a uber you’d have a fucking conniption. Don’t act fuckin’ coy, Bishop.”

“Angel!” Bishop called out not wanting to have this discussion any longer.

Angel made his way over with a slight pep in his step. “Sup Bish?”

“You been drinkin’?” His eyes were still on Lara.

“Nah, not even one beer.” Angel lifted his hands in innocence.

“Taka Lara home.” Bishop wasn’t even going to let Lara weigh in, his eyes were focused on Angel.

“You got it, Bish.”

Angel and Lara began walking towards the row of bikes in silence. Lara still had her hands in her back pockets as she walked, Angel ahead of her due to his long steps. Bishop had turned back around in his seat, leaning back as he smoked a cigarette. There was a change in demeanor, he felt the anger inside him bubble up. He was sick of the attitude from Lara and had no idea how to handle it. In all honesty, a sit down talk and some compromises on both ends would have been enough but Bishop and Lara weren’t exactly the best at communication. Which is why Bishop didn’t think twice before speaking, he knew the words he was going to say would cut, but he didn’t care in that moment.

There was a cold breeze that came in and it made Lara remove her hands from her pockets so she could rub her hand up and down her arm in an attempt to shake the chills. She was only about 10 feet away when Bishop called out to her.

“Hey, Lara.” Bishop said not even giving her the respect of looking at her. “Don’t forget I’m the only family you got.”

Lara was already frozen from when she turned to acknowledge him, but she felt her heart stop when he finished his sentence. It wasn’t a gut punch, that was a calculated statement. It was a good one too. To listening ears it seemed like a simple reminder, sure, a little pointed, but something anyone could shake off. But to Lara, it held power. Her birthday held a lot of pain, her brother’s death anniversary was only a few weeks away and the weight of that got heavier, made it hard to celebrate. Bishop knew that. Knew the comment would knock the girl down.

Lara had instantly buried the pain, anger taking its place. So many things popped into her head to say back to him. There was even a moment where she considered stepping to him, pushing him off the chair. But instead she turned around and kept walking. Her eyes met Angel’s who was waiting for her, she wasn’t sure if he heard the comment, but he definitely saw her wipe a tear or two from her face before she made it over to his bike.

“You good?” He handed her his helmet. The both of them standing on opposite sides of the bike.

Lara placed it on her head and clipped it and just gave him a nod. “Yea, I’m fine.”

He nodded, and got on the bike, knowing there wasn’t anything he was going to pull out of her here in the scrapyard.

_______

Angel pulled up to Lara’s place, cutting the engine of his bike. He wasn’t sure if he was staying but he did know he wanted to at least talk with the girl and didn’t want to be screaming over the rumbling.

“You got a minute?” Angel said to Lara as she walked up to the front porch of her place.

“For you? I’ll make it two.” She smiled sitting on the steps.

Angel smiled and joined the girl, he sat a step above her, his leg was against her shoulder. She leaned into him for a second before getting up and moving in between his long legs, still a step below him. She leaned back against him as he placed his arms around her shoulders. His lips came down to her cheek and he pressed a kiss to it before whispering in her ear.

“I got you something.”

Lara looked up at him. “I thought you said it was too last minute.”

“I heard Bish say it this morning. Gave me time to pick something up, just wanted to give it to you when we were alone.”

“Oh it’s that type of gift.” Lara turned back around with an eye roll before he was leaning back over her. He laughed as he placed a kiss on the side of her head as he grabbed the gift and brought it around in front of her. It was a medium sized box covered in confetti wrapping paper. It wasn’t wrapped beautifully at all, but the effort was there. Lara felt her heart in her stomach, she truly wasn’t expecting anything.

“What is this?” She frowned and looked back at him shocked.

“Open it and find out.” He nodded at the gift.

Lara’s attention moved back to the box as she stood it at dumbfoundly for a minute, purely in shock that Angel had actually picked something up for her. She began to unwrap it, the wrapping paper falling to her side on the stairs to reveal the beautiful hand painted jewelry box. It was clay ceramic but painted over completely in black, the cover had a bird painted in purple and pink pattern with a similar pattern in teal surrounding it. The walls of the box had pink flowers, each one slightly different than the next, hand painted around it. Inside was a soft cushion on the left that was made to hold a variety of rings while the right was divided into two sections for other pieces. The roof of the box was saved for necklaces, while it’s surface was bare only showing the clay colored ceramic, there were tiny metal hooks that looked custom made with small details around them and held in place with small ceramic tiles that matched the colors outside.

“Angel.” Lara’s breath was hitched in the back of her throat, the shock, the amazement, all the emotions were flooding her as she stared at the beautiful jewelry box he had just gifted her.

“I noticed that you had a bunch of wooden boxes for the stuff you make and they’re overflowing so, I don’t know thought maybe this could be some sort of solution, although, it’s not gonna fit all your stuff, but if you like it, I can take you to the place in Mexico where I got it and we can get more, it’s got those compartments and shit to organize things better, if that’s what you want, no pressure, the lady told me you can take that stuff out if you like the system you got going on.” Angel rambled on, clearly nervous that it wasn’t a good gift and that Lara was upset.

“Mexico?” Lara’s head snapped to look at him, even more shocked that he made a trip over the border for this.

“Had some time this morning, noticed the spot once when a group of us were over in Santa Madre. Figured I’d try my luck. Feel like you can’t buy the girl who makes jewelry, jewelry, you know?” He chuckled, still nervously.

“Angel this is…” Lara tried to find the right words before landing on one. “This is perfect. It’s beautiful, I can’t thank you enough.” Her glance went back to the jewelry box, her hands running over the textured paint and smiled back at him.

Relief washed over him, his face filled with a smile as she still stared at the jewelry box. “Oh, and look,” Angel’s hand reached over the girl’s shoulder and grabbed the ring cushion out and flipped it upside down. “There’s a little secret pouch for things you want to keep hidden.” He unclasped the fabric that opened a small bag like area for exactly that, items you wanted to keep more private.

Lara smiled as he brought the cushion back into the box and secured it back in. “Do you want to come in?”

___________

He did. The two took advantage of the house being empty, Lara was grateful that Frankie had decided to stay at the clubhouse and party a bit more, gave her a moment (or two) with Angel back at home.

The two of them laid in Lara’s bed, the covers laying over their naked bodies as they caught their breath.

“I would have bought you a jewelry box years ago if I knew it was going to get me that.” Angel teased as Lara chuckled and slapped his chest. “Happy Birthday” Angel laughed and kissed the girl on the lips, his hand cupping her face as he did before falling back in bed, his left hand moving back behind his head as Lara rested her head on his chest.

White noise filled the room, neither of them were asleep, but it was in the air. That was until Lara spoke up. “Do you think I should have stayed at the clubhouse tonight?”

It was a genuine question. Her mind might have been occupied with other things since getting home but now that things were quiet, her mind was able to fill back up with all the thoughts again.

“You think you should’ve?” Angel answered her question with a question, his eyes closed as he answered.

“I think that everything is fucked.” Lara said point blankly.

This made Angel open his eyes.

“Not this, I don’t mean this. I mean with Bishop.” Lara corrected herself.

“Bish’s got a lot on his plate you know–” Angel started.

“I’m not talking to you as a club member, Angel, I’m talking to you as the girl you fuck from time to time and buy jewelry boxes.” Her words were harsh but she knew Angel could handle them.

“So my girlfriend, you’re talking to me as my girlfriend.” He said and Lara could feel his heart speed up a bit as the nerves worked their way through his system.

“Finally.” Lara said with a chuckle and started to trace his tattoos on his chest.

Angel took a sigh of relief and kept the conversation moving, they didn’t need to dwell on the details just yet.

“You talkin’ about what Bishop said to you tonight?’ Angel’s other arm, the one not behind his head moved up and down Lara’s back.

“You heard him?” Lara now was sitting up a bit, so she could see Angel’s face.

“I did. I still stand by what I said, he’s got a lot on his plate, makes someone lash out easier.” He shrugged in explanation.

“Feels like it's just who we are at this point. Two people who will never see eye to eye, always at each others necks, always fighting.”

“Ain’t that a father daughter thing anyways. Frankie fights with Hank.” Angel struggled to understand.

“Not like Bishop and I do. Our shits deep rooted.

Just when Angel was about to ask what that shit was, finally get Lara to really open up, there was a noise.

“Speaking of Frankie.” Lara shot up and looked out the window to see EZ in Felipe’s truck dropping the drunk girl off. She walked by Angel’s bike without noticing it, Lara prayed EZ didn’t say anything while in the car, it was something that needed to come from Lara. “Go to my closet!” Lara demanded Angel as she jumped in bed and pretended to be asleep. Angel got up, not as quickly as Lara was moving, but fast enough that when Frankie opened Lara’s bedroom door, he was hidden.

“Hi, I’m home. And drunk. Very drunk” Frankie slurred as she leaned into the door, hand on the door knob and other hand on the frame to keep her balance.

Lara groaned like she was getting woken up. “Okay, thanks for letting me know. I’ll make you coffee in the morning.” Her words came out groggy.

“Th–thanks,” she began to close the door and then opened it again, “happy birthday, I love you.”

Lara closed her eyes, it made her feel shittier for hiding something from her even if she had her reasons for doing so. “I love you too.” Lara said before Frankie closed her door.

Angel came out from the hanging clothes and back to the bed, trying to push Lara over for him to lay back down.

“You’ve got 10 minutes and then you gotta go. Frankie’s gonna come in here in the morning and it’ll be better to sneak out now than run our chances in the morning.” Lara explained.

Angel groaned in complaint as the tiredness fell over him. “You’re gonna have to tell her one day anyways no better day than today.”

“I’m gonna tell her, just how I want to.” Lara protested back.

“Alright, alright, 15 minutes.” Angel agreed.

“8.” Lara corrected him.

_____

Lara let 15 minutes pass, the house was quiet before she rolled Angel out of bed. He was groggy as Lara pushed him, quietly out of her bedroom door.

“C’mon, Lara. Just 2 more minutes.” Angel complained as he made it to the hallway.

“Shh.” She shushed Angel as she pushed against his back down the hallway.

Angel turned around to face Lara, starting to smile and try and argue his way out of leaving, but as he turned, his head hit the light that he normally ducked to avoid. As he reacted swiftly to steady it but as he did, his back knocked against the pictures on the wall.

Lara tried her best to cover her laughs, her arms moving to steady Angel over her previous pushing him out stance. One hand was on the light to stop it from swinging while the other was moving to catch the picture frame. Angel turned now fully facing the picture frame and placed it back on it’s hook, he paused for a minute as he looked at the photo.

“Who is that?”

Lara’s laughs faded away almost instantly as she stared at the picture.

“That’s my brother.” Her words were cold as she spoke.

“I didn’t know you had a brother!” While Angel’s voice was at a whisper, you could hear the excitement coming from his voice. “You had to be like… what? 16? He looks like what 5? Gotta make him like 13 now?”

“19. I was 19 in that photo. Aiden was 4 in that photo. He’d be 14.” Lara’s voice was still cold.

“I didn’t realize Bish had a boy, wow.” Angel’s voice was eager as he looked closer at the wall. When Lara didn’t answer he turned towards her, she looked sick to her stomach. “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows frowned.

“He doesn’t.” Lara kept a straight face. “He doesn’t anymore.” Her eyes moved to Angel’s. He looked even more confused. “He died.”

Angel’s head snapped, shocked by what she just said.

“Lara…” Angel’s voice got softer.

“It’s fine. It was 7 years ago. Well, 8 in two weeks.” She chuckled and shook her head.

“That’s why you don’t like celebrating your birthday.” Angel nodded as he began to understand. “Is that Bishop and your mom?” He asked looking at the photo above the one of Aiden, the one of you with your birthday cake.

“Yea, my 5th birthday, just months before she died.”

Angel’s face dropped, the fact that Lara dated and remembered these photos by when the people in them passed… it had to be heavy.

“I didn’t realize,” Angel started, and shook his head, “I thought Aiden was…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. But he didn’t have to.

“Antonia. He was Antonia’s.” Lara nodded, her arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, Lara.” Angel didn’t know what else to say.

“You know, I don’t really talk about this. Or him. I mean, to Frankie, sometimes, but not just anybody.”

It was true, Lara was starting to open up to Angel.

“So I guess I’m not just anybody?” Angel teased and moved towards Lara with a smile, but before he could reach her his head hit the light again causing Lara to let out a snort.

“C’mon Smooth Talker,” Lara pushed Angel back down the hallway.

They reached the front door. Angel opened it and leaned against the door frame. “You know I could stay. Make you breakfast in the morning, coffee…”

“I’ve had your coffee, it’s not really a selling point.” Lara teased him. “Plus, Frankie, that’s not how I really want her finding out.”

“Holy shit.”

Lara and Angel’s attention averted to the living room that had a perfect view of the front door. Frankie stood there, drunk, in shock, and jaw dropped.

Angel looked between Frankie and Lara before speaking up.

“Um, I think she knows.”

#Mayans MC #Mayans MC Fanfic #Mayans MC Fanfiction #Mayans FX #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes Fanfic #Angel Reyes Fanfiction #Angel Reyes x OC #Bishop Losa #Bishop Losa x OC #Bishop Losa's daughter #OC Lara Losa #OC Lara #obispo losa #contaminated #contaminatedfic #garbinge #my writing

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drabbles-mc · 1 year ago

Text

Far From Over (4)

Gilly Lopez x OC Josephine Costa

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, smoking

Word Count: 5k

A/N: The way I didn't think I was going to get so viscerally attached to these two and yet I truly fucking have lmao. There is a little bit of a time jump between the last fic and this one. The vibe is a little different because of it, but I still love it so much. I have some big things planned for the next part or two of this and I'm 👀👀👀 excited

General Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @darqchilddaydreamz @danzer8705 @camelia35 @cositapreciosa @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“We don’t have Peña on our side anymore,” EZ said matter-of-factly from his seat beside Marcus during Templo, “but we can find out if the new mayor is just as amenable as she was.”

“Fuckin’ doubt it,” Bishop piped up with a shake of his head. He wasn’t looking at anyone, just staring down at the cigarette he had between his fingers. The smoke trailing off it was suddenly more interesting than everything else in the room.

EZ didn’t pay any mind to his cynicism. “Guess we’ll find out.” He turned and looked at Gilly. “Go see what Josie can tell you about her new boss.”

Up until that moment, Gilly had only been half paying attention to everything that was being said. So much of everything lately had just felt like running around in circles and getting nothing done that he started to tune things out sometimes. There was no MC equivalent to, “This meeting could’ve been an email,” but at this point Gilly was determined to come up with one.

Suffice to say that the mention of Josie threw him for a loop. “Why?”

“So we can find out what we’re working with,” EZ replied without missing a beat.

Gilly shook his head. “Nah, nah I’m not doing that. I told her months ago that I wouldn’t be asking her for club shit.”

Angel chuckled and shook his head. “Why the fuck would you tell her that?”

“Because I’m not gonna fuckin’ ask her,” Gilly snapped, harsher than he should’ve, harsher than he meant to.

Marcus finally weighed in. “You are now.” He saw the tension growing in Gilly’s shoulders. “EZ’s right—club needs to know what we have at our disposal. Antonia was good with us and Galindo. We need to know who our new mayor is in good with, if she’s in good with anyone.”

“What if Josie doesn’t know shit?” Gilly asked, desperately looking for a way out of this.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” EZ said.

“Don’t go alone.” Marcus’s gaze drifted from Gilly to Bishop. “Primo, keep him company, huh?”

Bishop knew better than to ask why. And as much as he wanted to argue, he knew better than to do that too. Still, he wasn’t going to pretend to be happy about it. “Fine,” he grit out.

“I’ll tag along too,” Coco piped up, something akin to amusement in his eyes.

Marcus’s brows furrowed. “Really think that this is a three-man job?”

Coco shrugged, oozing nonchalance as he lit up a cigarette. “Impartial third party.” He let out a puff of smoke. “Only one out of the three of us that hasn’t fucked someone in the mayor’s office,” he tried to finish the sentence without laughing and failed.

It got scattered chuckles from almost everyone around the table. Everyone except for Bishop and Gilly. Marcus gave a small shake of his head but he clearly didn’t deem it something that was worth a discussion or an argument. If Coco wanted to go just to be nosey and annoy Gilly, that was his own prerogative. The gavel sounded and everyone was dismissed out. Gilly shot up out of his seat much faster than usual, barreling his way to the door and away from everyone else before he said something that he’d end up regretting.

Coco materialized by him while he was leaning back against his bike. Gilly was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight. Tension was practically radiating off him, his shoulders looking like they were about to snap clean off his body.

“It’s not gonna be that bad,” Coco said as he dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground and put it out with the heel of his boot.

“Fuck you,” Gilly said.

Coco laughed. “Why you so—”

“I haven’t seen her in like two months, man.” Gilly shook his head, finally looking at Coco. “And I made it real fuckin’ clear last time that I didn’t wanna fucking see her again.”

“That’s on you.”

“It’s not fucking—”

“Shut up,” Coco said with a laugh. “Fuckin’ dramatic.”

Gilly tried to be angry but ended up laughing instead. “I hate you.”

Coco was laughing and shaking his head. When he saw Bishop finally walking over to the two of them he said, “Come on, let’s go see your ex.”

When they made it to the mayor’s office, Coco hung back just outside the front doors. He was close enough to watch it all go down but not so close that it felt like there was a whole charter rolling up into the place. It’d been a while since anyone from the club had stopped by the mayor’s office, so it was already going to be a bit much.

Bishop and Gilly made their way up the steps to the building. Neither of them were looking at each other, and they weren’t even really looking at the building. Both sets of eyes were glued to the stairs passing beneath their boots.

“Liked it better when it was your fuckin’ ex,” Gilly half-mumbled.

Bishop was annoyed by the comment but he still found himself chuckling at it. Misery loves company. He didn’t say anything else in response though, opting just to shake his head as they made it to the top of the stairs. They each pulled one of the double doors open, walking in side-by-side. They didn’t do it with the intent to be intimidating or cause a scene, but it had that effect regardless.

The young woman working at the reception desk was practically shaking as she sat on the other side of the counter and looked up at Gilly. “C-can I help you?”

Gilly knew that the look of utter annoyance on his face wasn’t helping to make him any less intimidating to the poor girl, but he couldn’t really do much about it at this point. “Looking for Josephine? Costa?”

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Right. Right. What’s it in regards to, exactly?”

“Revenue opportunities for the town,” Bishop spoke up when Gilly was taking too long.

It was Gilly’s turn to awkwardly clear his throat. “She’ll know what it’s about.”

The girl looked back and forth between the two men in front of her a couple times before finally getting up out of her seat. “I’ll go grab her, then. Wait…wait right here, please.”

Gilly watched the girl scurry off to go and find Josie. He wondered what happened to the last person they had working the front desk. If she’d still been there, Gilly never would’ve even had to explain himself. That was half the reason he hesitated—it’d been so long since anyone at the mayor’s office asked him why he was there. The reason was always known and implied when he used to show up. The days of lunch dates and stopping by just because he could and wanted to check in were long gone now.

Josie caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see the girl standing in front of her. Josie had always thought she was wound just a little tight, but she looked more skittish than usual.

She pulled her hands away from her keyboard. “All good, Lena?”

She nodded, not that it was very convincing. “Um, yea. I mean, maybe? There’s um,” she glanced over her shoulder even though Gilly and Bishop were a door and a couple hallways away, “there are a couple people here to see you? Couple guys. Men.”

Josie chuckled, confusion on her face. “Did these men say—”

“They said you’d know what it’s about?” she almost squeaked from the nerves.

Josie couldn't help the sigh she let out. “These men have leather vests on?”

Lena nodded. “Yea. The one guy had a lot of tattoos. Other one, uh, had, uh, had a beard.” It crossed her mind as she rambled that she hadn’t asked for their names. Hopefully her vague descriptions were enough.

She gave a slow nod. “Alright.” She stood up from her seat, grabbing and putting on her blazer as she did. “I’ll talk to them.”

“Do you need me to call someone? The police department is right—”

“No,” Josie cut her off as gently as she could as she walked out from the other side of her desk, “it’s fine. Really. They’re…they’re not here to cause a problem.” She didn’t know if that was true or not but it was the closest thing to the truth that she had—it wasn’t as though she could claim that they were harmless.

Lena was visibly hesitant but she finally nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them walked back towards the main lobby of the building where Gilly and Bishop were waiting. Josie wanted to have something quick and reassuring to tell the girl who was anxiously keeping stride with her, but she knew that it wasn’t going to matter what she said. Nothing was going to be comforting enough. The only thing that was going to help the poor girl was the two men leaving.

“Hey,” Josie said as casually as she could when she reached the lobby. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at Gilly, but she didn’t want to let it show. She’d never been the best at keeping her thoughts and feelings to herself—even if she didn’t say something, she almost always wore it on her face. “Something I can do for you gentlemen?” she asked as she looked back and forth between Bishop and Gilly.

Gilly felt like he’d been knocked back a few steps. He could hardly remember the last time that Josie used her work voice on him. The last time was back when they had first met at all. The first few times Gilly had been tasked with lingering around the office while Bishop and Taza met with Antonia to try and work things out. He always lingered in the lobby, looking suspicious as hell and making plenty of people uncomfortable. At that point, Josie wasn’t the direct assistant to the mayor—she was the one working the front desk.

Before he could think too much about what now seemed like a different lifetime, Gilly got brought back to the present by Bishop saying, “Hoping to steal a couple minutes of your time.”

Josie watched Bishop, seeing the smile on his face but also seeing the way that it didn’t reach his eyes. She could feel how much neither of them wanted to be there. She was about to offer up a response when Gilly finally got it together enough to say something.

“It won’t be long,” he said, still staring at Josie because he couldn’t bring himself to look at anything else. Eight weeks wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but apparently it was just long enough. She looked different than the last time he saw her—her hair was chopped to her shoulders, she’d gotten another nose piercing, a myriad of other small details that Gilly didn’t think he was the type of guy to notice now all seemed like flashing neon signs. Still, he tried to focus as he said, “Just got a couple questions.”

Josie shrugged. “Alright, yea, I got a few minutes.” She motioned for them to follow her. “Come with me.”

“I’ll wait here,” Bishop offered up, praying that Gilly wasn’t going to want to argue in front of everyone passing through the lobby. He just didn’t want to be subjected to whatever their entire interaction was going to turn out to be.

Josie shrugged, unbothered. “Suit yourself.” She missed the glare that Gilly shot Bishop’s way as the two of them started to make their way out of the lobby. She had him follow her down a hallway before she pushed the door open to an empty conference room. “Come on, no one will bother us in here.” She pulled the door shut behind the two of them before turning to face Gilly. “So…what’s up?”

“I know I said I wasn’t gonna ask you for shit,” Gilly started, not exactly rambling but not calm either, “and I fuckin’ told them that but they still made me—”

“Hey,” Josie cut him off, “it’s…it’s fine.”

Gilly’s whole face contorted in surprise at how genuine she sounded when she said that. He watched her as she sat on the edge of the table, resting her hands in her lap. It took him longer than it should’ve to say, “What?”

She let out a sad laugh. “I never said I wouldn’t help you. That was your rule.”

“Figured it was fuckin’ implied since…you know.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “guess I kind of fuckin’ owe you, right?”

Gilly chuckled. “Kind of.”

“So?” she asked after a couple seconds of silence. “What’s the ask?”

“The new mayor.”

She sighed, chin dropping and tucking down towards her chest. “Fuck.”

“I know.”

She lifted her head to look at him again. “What about her?”

“What’s her deal?”

Josie laughed. “Her deal? You mean do I think that she’ll work with the fucking MC?”

“If she doesn’t wanna work with us, I don’t really give a shit,” Gilly told her honestly. “I need to know who she is working with, though.”

Josie let out a puff of air. She knew that things were always coated in more shades of grey than she could’ve ever imagined when it came to local politics and the club. The cartel periodically came through to get their pound of flesh, too, making sure that even though they operated underground for the most part, that Antonia still knew full-well that they were around and expecting certain things from her. Looking back, Josie was honestly surprised that Peña actually made it to a point where she could just leave, rather than a stress-induced heart attack taking her out.

A lot of that, the mess with the mayor and the club and the cartel, had all been in Josie’s peripheral. She knew bits and pieces, and Antonia loosened up around her considerably once she and Gilly became a unit rather than two separate people. But there was still so much that Josie didn’t know. There was a lot that Peña didn’t tell her, even more that Gilly didn’t tell her. Maybe she should’ve seen this coming, but she’d been too busy worrying about everything else.

“As far as I know,” she said after thinking on it for a long while, “she is new and shiny…and clean.”

Gilly wasn’t sure if her hesitation was because she was lying, or because she really didn’t want to tell him the truth. “You really think so?”

“I do.” She sighed. “And I know it’s not great for you guys but I’d really fucking love for her to stay that way.”

“It’s not up to me, Jos.”

She shrugged. “Fine, fuck it. Send Bishop back here and I’ll talk to him.”

Gilly wasn’t quick enough to hide the smirk on his face. “Not up to him either.” He saw the way that Josie’s raised eyebrows asked the question that her mouth didn’t. “Alvarez is president now.”

She laughed, “Oh, shit. Dad came home, huh?” She shook her head. “Bish VP, then?”

It hit her in that moment that she couldn’t remember the last time she and Gilly actually talked about the club. They broke up, then there was the shoot-out, then there was the wedding. And sure, the shoot-out had been at the clubhouse, but it wasn’t an environment that was conducive to catching up about the changes in the MC hierarchy. Not like Gilly would’ve wanted to talk to her about it anyway. She was surprised that he was even saying anything now. Maybe he wasn’t thinking too much about what he was doing.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “EZ is VP.”

Josie nearly choked on her own spit. “Ezekiel?” She blinked once, long and slow as she gave another shake of her head. “Wasn’t he just a prospect like, two months ago?”

Gilly laughed, knowing that she was exaggerating but not by much. “Yea. Fuckin’ insane.”

There was a small stretch of silence, and as the seconds ticked by, Josie could watch the way that Gilly’s facial expression and body language started to change. The reality of the club, the mayor, the two of them currently standing in the empty conference room, all slowly began to wash over him. The fleeting moments of ease between them were on their way out. Everything was a mess, it felt like. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be.

Clearing his throat, his nose twitched slightly as he sniffed. “But yea, the mayor. Think we could—”

“Do I think you guys could buy her? Scare her into whatever it is that you need now?” she cut him off with the questions. She was angry, annoyed, but she knew that the club was going to do whatever they wanted regardless of how much she tried to keep her boss out of it. Bordertown politics. She sighed. “Yea, fucking, fucking probably.”

He couldn’t really blame her for her exasperation, but it wasn’t as though he was thrilled about having to be standing in front of her asking her all of this. It was quite literally one of the last things in the world that he wanted to be doing. And yet.

“The club is in some major shit, Jos,” Gilly said with a sigh. “With all the shit still going on with the border, and with the fucking cartels, we—”

“I’m sure you’ve got a laundry list of reasons, Gilly. You guys always do.” She could see that he was fighting the urge to let this become the blowout it could so easily be between them. She was doing all she could to keep her tongue under control. She wasn’t afraid to have it out with him, never had been, but she didn’t want to do it at work. “If she doesn’t?”

“What?”

She sighed. “If she doesn’t agree to work with you?”

He shrugged. “Gotta make it clear that she can’t go and work with anyone else either.”

She felt a knot starting to grow in the back of her throat. She didn’t know what the specifics of that would be. She didn’t want to know, either, but she knew that they wouldn’t be good. She wondered how much grief Antonia had saved herself just because of her past relationship with Bishop. Then she wondered if maybe that would’ve made it worse.

Gilly could see all the emotions that were passing over Josie’s face. “Told you I didn’t want to come to you with all this shit.”

“I thought your problem was with your other charters?”

“Them too.”

She shook her head, letting out a hollow laugh. “You guys really love a fucking mess, huh?”

“And you don’t?”

“I’m good at making them, doesn’t mean I fuckin’ enjoy them.” She sighed. “This one is yours, though. Your club’s. Keep it that way and keep me the fuck out of it.”

“What happened to you owing me?” It would’ve been a more successful joke if the stakes had been different.

“You suddenly looking for reasons to have to come and see me?”

That was something that he didn’t have a good rebuttal for. He knew that if he let this conversation keep going, it was going to disintegrate into something much meaner than the exhaustion that was between them now. Neither of them had ever shied away from a good knock-down, drag-out, but this was the closest to civil they’d been with each other in a long time. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

“Alright. I’ll let the guys know what you said.”

She nodded. “You have fun with that.” Pushing herself up from where she was leaning back against the table, she walked to the door and opened it, motioning for Gilly to walk through. “You first.”

They were silent as they walked back to the main lobby. Lena looked up from her computer the second that she heard the heels of Josie’s boots clicking against the floor. She looked a little more relieved at the sight of the two of them, but not quite relieved enough.

“I’m gonna take my fifteen,” Josie told her. “And I’ll walk these guys out.”

Lena looked skeptical, but if Josie was comfortable, she was going to try her best to feel the same. “Okay.”

Josie fell into stride next to Bishop, allowing Gilly to walk in front of the two of them. “So,” she said as Gilly held the door open for both of them, “did you just miss your old stomping grounds that much that you decided to come back?”

Bishop chuckled dryly. “Nothing like that.” He saw it on Josie’s face that she was about to fire off another smart remark, so he said, “Was actually sent to make sure that you two didn’t fuckin’ strangle each other.”

Josie had to laugh at that. “That’s fair.”

When the three of them reached the bottom of the steps, they found Coco standing by their bikes. He was leaning back against his, cigarette in one hand, his phone in the other. He was squinting against the sun as he looked down at the screen, swiping in a way that could’ve meant that he was playing a game, or snooping around on someone’s accounts on something. Josie didn’t know which one it was but for her own sanity she chose to believe it was the former.

“Hey, Coco,” she spoke up as they all lingered by the parked motorcycles.

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice. “Shit, hey.”

It’d been a long time since Josie got a good look at Coco. Even before she and Gilly had broken up, Coco had been mostly MIA. She always tried to ask, but she was always met with vague answers or clear anger. Neither of those options did her any good. He’d been at the clubhouse the night of the shoot-out, but there had been so much other shit going on that she hadn’t been focused on him at all. Whatever he had been going through, though, he looked better now.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

He shrugged, a tiny lift at the end of his mouth. “Still fuckin’ here.”

She laughed, nodding. “That’s true.”

Part of her had expected to be met with some sort of animosity. Or at least for Coco to be cold towards her because of what she had put Gilly through. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she wouldn’t have been able to blame him if that’s how he was choosing to handle it. At the end of the day, she knew that Gilly was one of Coco’s best friends. And even if Gilly had been the one in the wrong, which he wasn’t this time, his friends in the MC would’ve sided with him. But when she stopped and gave it a second thought, she figured that maybe she wasn’t giving Coco enough credit. There were bigger things to be angry about. Plus Coco had always been better at leaving the past in the past and pushing forward than the rest of them.

He nodded at her. “Hair looks good.”

She reached up, threading her fingers through it in an impulsive response to his comment. The last time he’d seen her, her hair had been almost down to the middle of her back. “Thanks.” She noticed that while she’d gone and chopped hers off, Coco’s was longer than it’d ever been. “Yours too—I like the braids.”

“Not gonna lie,” he took one more drag off his smoke before putting it out on the sidewalk, “was hopin’ for more of a brawl or something with you two.” He gestured between her and Gilly with a laugh.

She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

His smile grew a little wider. “Maybe next time.” He turned and looked at Gilly and Bishop. “We out?”

Bishop nodded immediately, wanting to spend as little time at the mayor’s office as possible. “Yea, we are.”

Gilly found himself hesitating. “I’ll catch up.”

All three of the others turned and looked at him with varying levels of confusion. For a moment Josie wondered if once the guys left the very tense and delicate balance that she and Gilly had maintained for the last short stint of time was all going to come crumbling down. Judging by the look on Coco’s face, she wasn’t the only one who was having that very thought. Still, neither of the men were going to try and stick around longer or argue, so they said quick goodbye’s to Josie before hopping on their bikes and taking off.

“Should I be worried?” she asked, trying to make a joke but a shred of her unease still shone through.

Gilly shook his head. “Nah.”

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her blazer. She took one out and already had it between her lips when she paused and looked over at him. “Sorry, do you care if I…?” the question came out slightly muffled as she spoke around the cigarette perched between her lips.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, something reminiscent of a laugh, and shook his head. “I don’t give a fuck, Jos.”

She smiled as she lit it. She took a drag before saying, “I just know you said you were trying to quit.” She paused for a beat, waiting for him to say whatever it was that he wanted to say. When he didn’t jump right into anything, she asked, “You good?”

He nodded. “Yea.” He pried his eyes from the sidewalk and met her gaze. “Saw your sister.”

She could’ve sworn her heart stopped in her chest for a moment. There it was. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure and not show the nerves she was so clearly feeling. “When was that?”

He shrugged. “Couple weeks after the wedding.”

She frowned in thought, taking another drag off her cigarette. She wasn’t sure what she needed more in that moment, the nicotine or the few seconds of distraction. “I, um, I don’t really know what you’re expecting me to say to that, Gilly,” she admitted with an anxious laugh.

“She still pissed at you?” he asked.

If they’d been having the discussion a few months before, Josie would’ve assumed that Gilly was just trying to put salt in her wounds because he could. But it didn’t feel like that now. It felt like he was genuinely wondering.

“She’s not thrilled, but I mean…”

“Yea, she was, she was fuckin’ mad.”

“I know—I was there when the mad started.”

“I thought you were full of shit, by the way,” he told her.

“What?”

“When you said you were gonna tell them. I figured you were just full of shit and saying whatever to, you know…”

“Get what I needed?” she filled in the blanks for him, sounding hurt, but not quite angry.

“Yea.”

“Well, like I said,” she tapped the ash from the end of her smoke, “I owe you.”

He wanted it to feel better, hearing her say that. He wanted some kind of gratification out of it, but he had none. This was why he didn’t want to drag her back into any of the shit going on with the club. He should’ve known it was going to happen anyway, but he was really hoping. He wanted to be done with everything that happened with them—he didn’t want it to be some sword hanging over their heads forever. He didn’t know how to make it all go away though.

Unable to handle the silence, the weight of the conversation that they were about to tumble into, Josie switched tracks. “Who should I call?”

He frowned in confusion. “What?”

“If I hear anything about the mayor, one way or the other—who should I call?” She didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to turn that stone over and reveal whatever mess was beneath it, but Gilly hadn’t ever unblocked her number.

He almost reached for his phone in the pocket of his kutte. But as he looked at her, watched her drop the butt of her cigarette onto the sidewalk to grind it out before tossing it in the trash, he stopped himself. Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Call EZ. This is his and Alvarez’s bullshit to sort now.”

She frowned for a moment before recovering. Nodding, she said, “Okay.” There was another long beat of silence between them, and Josie could feel how he had more things to say. She also knew that he wasn’t going to. She wasn’t sure if she was better or worse off for that. “I gotta, you know…” she trailed off as she motioned back over her shoulder.

“Right. Go make sure your receptionist didn’t call SWAT on us or some shit,” he joked, his light tone not quite matching the look in his eyes.

“I asked her very nicely not to,” Josie joked right back.

She wanted to hug him, offer him some kind of something for everything, but she knew that she couldn’t. She also knew that the times of going months not seeing each other were over. Whether it was going to mend things or re-shatter them completely would remain to be seen. She wasn’t sure what she was looking to happen, or what she wanted. She just hoped it would be less uncomfortable and angry than things had been. Today had been a start—they got through seeing each other without descending into a screaming match. Maybe there really was something to giving things time.

“Stay safe,” she finally said, not going for a hug or a handshake, instead just taking starting her retreat towards the stairs.

Gilly nodded, watching her go. “Thanks.”

#mayans mc #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc fanfic #gilly lopez x oc #gilly lopez #gilly lopez fanfiction #oc josie #oc josephine costa #far from over #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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tinydappledleaf · 1 year ago

Text

Title: Stay

Chapter: 5/6

Pairing: Ezra x f!Reader, Ezra x you (Reader is addressed by 'you' or nickname)

Rating: 18+, smut in chapter 6

Content: Situationship to romance, soft Ezra, intimacy, loss of limb (non-explicit), canon compliant

Summary: When you've almost given up waiting for him, a certain prospector returns to the Pug to call in a favor...

Ao3: complete fic

《 chaper 4 chapter 6 》

Chapter V

You won’t say it out loud, never are one to boast, but as the last screw seals the sleek outer case of Ezra's prosthesis seamlessly you feel awfully satisfied.

So is Cee, as she throws open the entrance door with a huge smile, a somewhat breathless Ezra in tow.

“I did it!” She exclaims and you nearly drop the whole arm in fright at the abrupt intrusion to your quiet moment. Gingerly disposing of it on your desktop, safe, you turn to face her. By now Cee stands amid the room, openly overjoyed with something you have not yet grasped, while Ezra drops onto the couch to catch his breath. The brisk walk home draws a cough from his battered lungs, but it doesn’t diminish the joy that twists the corners of his mouth upwards in a smirk.

Arm lazily thrown across the back of the couch, his grin rivals Cee's, despite the remaining rattle of each drawn breath. There’s something about his expression, that makes your heart skip a beat. A parental sort of proudness, revelling in his fosterling’s achievement. And Cee wastes no tick to let you in on what exactly the ruckus is about.

“I made it into the academy! They picked me for a scholarship for two whole seasons!”

“Never expected anything else, Birdie,” praises Ezra and winks at you from behind her back.

It doesn’t take more to infect you with their mutual excitement and you jump from your spot to spread your arms wide and envelop her in a big hug.

“Congratulations!” you cheer as you retreat a step, still trying to make heads or tails of the sudden but stunning information.

“How? I mean- They just do that? Give out scholarships?”

Puggart Bench’s academic complex is careful to pick they best they get. It might have nothing on all the luxuries the Ephrate offers, but education around here isn’t low-cost either. Most youths around do not receive any education whatsoever, learn solely what’s necessary to survive out in the Frontiers. Your own education consist merely of your own experience and whatever you'd picked up from the mechanics' proficieny when you'd helped out in repairshops as a teen.

But Cee is different. She deserves to thrive.

You know the academy does not throw out scholarships at random. They're sponsored by the Pug's big fish, seeking to pilfer the pool of graduates for the most promising alumni. The entry exams are tough, focused on fluid intelligence rather than factual knowledge, the base for quick and efficient tuition.

Her receiving scholarship means she has proven herself to the academy's Argus-eyed examiners.

But, even though you're very aware, you want the spotlight on her, want her to tell you herself about her success.

Eagerly she shakes her head 'no' to your question and fishes a signed letter from her bag. It’s a bit crooked and folded askew, but it is her proof. Her acquired treasure.

“I took a test, a few cycles ago, when I was out with Ez,” she hurriedly explains. The nickname makes you smile even wider. Tiny proof of the trust she's gained towards him and vice versa.

“I didn’t even think I could make it, that’s why I didn’t tell you, but they said I was in! I’m a bit late, so I need to catch up on a few things, but I can start as soon as I’ve packed my stuff!”

You take the letter she holds out to you and briefly study the summary of her result and, Kevva, are you impressed. You knew she was smart, never doubted her success from the tick she set foot into your life, but this is damn remarkable. And it grants her entrance to a life never available to most forlorn fringeborn kids.

“So, I take it you’re gonna leave soon?”

You hand the letter back to her and she nods fervently, as she shoves it into her satchel.

“Tomorrow morning,” she confirms and it makes you grow immediately wistful. Cee can be a handful, like each youth and some, but through cycles spent under one roof and around the same 'table', you’ve come to care more about her than you had initially expected. She reminds you of your kid sister, fierce and sharp, but just as kind, and never ever capitulating to whatever life throws at her feet. She’ll get far. And you dearly hope, you’ll be allowed to witness it.

“I guess I’m gonna go and... well, pack my stuff now,” says Cee, as the adrenalin of her glee slowly dwindles to a steady nervous bubble. Thumbing in your bedroom’s direction, she takes a few steps towards it. “Thank you… for letting me stay.”

You brush it off with a flick of your hand.

“You’re always welcome to visit.”

Which she will, you hope, on the occasional break of her studies.

Nodding gratefully, she retreats into what has become her room and you already feel the pull of her absence.

Settling one hand on your hip, you watch the door close until a soft clap prompts you to turn.

Ezra pats the cushion beside him and you gladly accept his invitation. You flop down and melt into his side until your cheek rests on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna miss her so dreadfully,” you mutter and Ezra gives a noncommittal hum. But you can feel the sigh he breathes in the rustle of your hair, the way he deflates beside you as he drops his head onto the backrest.

Closing your eyes, you enjoy the silence, the solidness of his body against your own. Just for a second, you'll allow yourself to enjoy his presence.

Until you remember your own little surprise.

Well, not much of a surprise since he's almost constantly been lurking around your space. But he does not yet know that you're finished.

Ezra grumbles as you sit up a little straighter, but doesn’t complain as you flip yourself over to face him. Both legs pulled up beneath yourself and tucked into tailor-fashion, you grin at him.

“I got somehting for you as well.”

“You do?” He quips and tilts his head to eye you, tired but smirking. You realize he's probably already noticed when you'd nearly dropped the prosthetic arm as Cee breezed in. Nonetheless you’re not inclined to cancel the revelation of your hard work.

Untangling your legs, you get up and retrieve the finished piece from your workbench. There’s no need for fancy wrapping or a box. He’s curiously observed you working on it for cycles on end. Seeing the finished thing is different, however, and it shows on his face.

Emotions flitter across his features as you settle back beside him like before, the prosthetic arm now displayed on your lap for him to see. There’s gratitude in his smile, wistfulness in the knitting of his brow and a hint of caution in the way his fingers gently trace its sturdy frame. You’ve built it to last and aid him in whatever future challenges life is about to set on his trail. Soft rubber fingertips and palm allow gentleness as much as a secure grip and, if he chooses to, a rudimentary sense of touch.

You watch him patiently as he places his flat hand against the one you created, each finger lining up against its artificial counterpart to near perfection. The sight mists your eyes and you need to blink a few times to clear your vision as Ezra speaks.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Patches," he starts haltingly. He looks almost torn. Unprepared to flip open this new chapter of his future and yet thrilled to.

"I couldn't possibly clothe my gratitude for this in words and I vow that I'll do my damnest to provide some compensation-"

He falls utterly silent as your hands raise to gently grasp his jaw and raise his head to face you. You feel him swallow harshly as you lean in, eyes closed, and touch your forehead to his, mute and soft, but all the same conveying that its okay. That he doesn't need to compensate for anything.

Its a bold move, but you can't help it. Cee's departure is a mere cycle away and if you aren't completely mistaken, he won't stick around much longer. Even with her scholarship, two seasons from now he'll have to fork out a hefty sum if he wants her to continue. And he does, you're certain of that.

He won't spent his time dawdling about with you if there's still a fortune to make, somewhere out there.

Ezra's your alley cat, after all.

He might return and stay a bit if you feed him. But other than that, he does whatever tickles his fancy.

Its nice, though, somehow. His skittish visits, the little feline presents he keeps dropping on your figurative doormat. A pretty rock. A beautiful flower. Or a forlorn little birdie.

But if he disappears on you again...

If he disappears on you again, you need him to know that you'll be waiting. That you'll patch him up each and every time he drags himself home to you.

"Promise me one thing?"

He hums his question, prompting you to go on, as you scooch closer and wrap your arms around his neck. Nose buried against his shoulder, you fumble for words that suddenly feel inappropriate. No strings attached, you remind yourself. As much as you yearn for one to tug on gently, signal him that you need him, wait for him to do the same.

"Nevermind," you mumble, but his low chuckle tells you he's long caught on anyway. His arm pulls you closer as he mirrors your affection and he's warm and close and its all so fucking unfair.

"I hereby vow," he begins solemnly and murmurs his promise right into your ear, "that I'll take more caution on any future endeavor. You hear me, Patches? I'll be careful and I'll be back home before you even notice me gone."

The latter is a blunt lie. As if his absence could ever go unnoticed. Nothing rings louder than the silence he leaves. Nonetheless, you grasp the sentiment. No detours, no gratuitous risk. Only then you fully comprehend his words.

Home. He considers this, you, home.

Ezra, wanderlust personified, the incorrigible scoundrel scouring the Frontiers for riches, thinks of you as his home. You've been his friend, his safe haven. But never before home. It constricts your throat, makes you curl into him. You've let yourself feel too much, as of late. You'll regret it when he sets out again, but at this moment, yu can't help it.

"Thank you," you mutter and sense him smile against your skin, his returning stubble a pleasant prickle.

Reluctantly you let go of him, slowly resume your initial position and rub the treacherous moisture from your eyes. If he does observe it, he doesn't comment on the brief crumble of your resilient facade.

"So," You clear your throat and he listens, patiently, "You wanna try it?"

"Why, yes." He says with such severity, it lures something between a chortle and a sniffle from you as he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it haphazardly somewhere on the couch behind.

"Ain't gonna let that work of yours go to waste. Show me what it's got."

Refusing to let yourself be distracted by his bareness, again, you slip into professionalism and carefully inspect his stump before you proceed. He shivers under your gentle touch, but keeps his mouth shut for once while you evaluate what you see. You've checked his wounds on a regular basis, satisfied with watching him heal under your care. The stitches in his abdomen have dissolved enough by now to be nearly gone and the remainder of his arm is free of infection, the laceration fully closed.

"If gets too uncomfortable or hurts, tell me right away," you instruct him.

"The area is most likely still tender, even though its healed pretty well. You're sure lucky Cee did manage such a clean cut, otherwise this might have gotten really ugly for you."

From the corner of your eye you see him pull a face that tells you its been nasty enough as is and you feel for him. But its the truth and you know he's truly more than grateful for her help, for granting him the chance to live and escape the purgatory that is the Green. Glum memories are swiftly wiped away when his attention shifts back to your doing.

Step by step you show him the process of attaching his artificial limb, patiently help him to adjust the gapped liner to ensure all electrodes sit in proper contact to his skin. It takes time and some frustration on his side until his stump sits snugly inside his brand-new limb. When it does, he watches almost reverently as you show him how to safely seal it through the press of a button. A quiet hiss of the remaining air being expelled securely attaches the artificial appendage to his remaining arm.

"All good? Nothing pinches?"

"Nope," he says, eyes still glued to his arm. "Snug as a bug in a rug."

Shaking your head at his antics, you inch a bit back to allow him some space.

"Go ahead, try it."

Your gentle encouragement relieves his momentary rigor and you observe him lift his arm from his lap, still held horizontal and otherwise unmoving. He halts, concentrated. Testing its weight maybe? You aim to keep it realistic, not too light, not too heavy. Still, it differs from what he's experienced ever since loosing the arm he was born with. You've often heard that it feels foreign or unpleasant, even. It takes some getting used to.

Before you can say anything, however, he seems to have arranged himself with it for the time being and your smile widens as he slowly unbends it at the elbow, then twists the wrist to point its palm downwards. Fingers jerkily curl, form a fist and uncurl with a little more grace.

A few practicing repeats of the motion smooth out the initial stutter.

You hear his held breath rush out in a soundless, incredulous laugh when he touches the rubbery pads of his fingers against his thumb, visibly stunned that he feels it. Its by far not like the real thing - more a general feedback of touch that grows with rising pressure. But its something. And suddenly its him who blinks back the mist in his eyes and it makes you want to hold him all over again.

The sound of your name interrupts your thoughts, albeit registers a little belated for the reason that it is your actual name instead of his beloved moniker for you.

You tear your eyes away from his arm to face him.

And two simple words, rough around the edges with raw emotion, carry more meaning than all of his impressive vocabulary ever could.

"Thank you."

#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #prospect 2018 #prospect film #ao3 #ezra prospect fanfiction #f!reader #fluff #leaf writes

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