#anyway I think at least one of the trucks left if not just moved to the other side of the building

[pyreflydust]

Living in an apartment complex instead of a multi-family home after so long in the latter is so fucking weird for many reasons but one thing I don't think most people think about is the More Ambulances part.

And I live in clear sight of where most of them park.

But More Ambulances still usually means one at a time. At which point the most I can do is think "Well I hope they're gonna be okay."

But sometimes More Ambulances means... *squints* at least two firetrucks and an ambulance and WHY DID LIKE FIVE FIREFIGHTERS WITH AXES WALK OUT OF MY BUILDING

And it's probably not anything that affects me, since I would think I would've heard them closer to me if it did but WHO DOESN'T SEE FIVE AXES AND GET CONCERNED

[yuujispinkhair]

Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)

Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.

Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos

Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.

He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.

If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.

Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.

He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.

He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.

You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.

He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.

You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).

You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,

"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."

And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,

"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."

He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.

Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.

Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.

Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.

You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.

Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.

It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.

But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.

And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.

He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.

You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,

"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"

His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,

"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."

You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,

"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."

"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"

"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."

You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,

"That sounds nice."

Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.

Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.

Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.

Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.

The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.

Sukuna grits his teeth.

You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.

He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,

"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"

Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.

Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.

He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.

It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,

"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."

And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.

Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.

And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,

"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."

You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.

You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.

You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.

"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."

And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,

"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."

And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.

Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.

He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.

Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.

Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.

You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.

He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.

But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.

No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.

He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,

"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."

Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,

"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."

You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.

Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.

He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.

"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."

And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.

Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.

The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.

When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.

Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.

How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?

Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.

He can't say those things, can he?

In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.

And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:

He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.

Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.

You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.

When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,

"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."

Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.

Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.

Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.

He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.

"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."

And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,

"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."

"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."

And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.

But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.

The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.

You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.

Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.

And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.

He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.

Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.

Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,

"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."

And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.

He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,

"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."

Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.

Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.

When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.

He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.

But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,

"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."

Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.

He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"

He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.

All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.

It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.

Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.

He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.

You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.

And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.

The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.

Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.

And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.

You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.

He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.

You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.

Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.

He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.

You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.

Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.

He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.

But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.

He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.

And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.

You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.

"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."

You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.

And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.

He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,

"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."

He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.

The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.

You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.

Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.

Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.

Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.

"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."

And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,

"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"

He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.

Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.

"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."

And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,

"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."

Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.

But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.

But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?

His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.

But things have changed, haven't they?

Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.

"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."

And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,

"Well, you are the exception, baby."

And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.

You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,

"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"

And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.

Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.

Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."

Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.

Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.

"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."

Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.

"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."

There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,

"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."

Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.

Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,

"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."

SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)

I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.

And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!

[yellowharrington]

wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 5k+ oops

warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

No one likes using dating apps.

Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.

This was Texas, after all.

Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”

No thanks.

It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.

You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting. 

Age range: 25-30

Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.

Age range: 35-45

Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel Miller does not use dating apps.

He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.

“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”

“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”

A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”

Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”

Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.

Paul, 41

Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.

You sighed deeply. Some things never change. 

After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.

Joel, 45

Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in. 

Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.

He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.

When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.

Joel has sent you a message.

Hey, darlin’. How are ya?

You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?

Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?

He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.

Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.

Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂

No good?

Not bad. 6/10. 

Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person. 

I would love to find out. 

You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.

Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.

He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.

There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.

I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.

Tomorrow, 7pm ok?

You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.

Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)

Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number. 

It’s Joel. This the right number?

Yup. You found me.

Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)

He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record. 

Joel was positively freaking out about this date.

Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.

Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?

His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.

“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”

“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”

He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”

“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.

“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.

“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.

“Nothing.“

“Are you going on a date?”

Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”

Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all. 

Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.

“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.

Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.

It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.

Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.

You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.

We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?

No worries if you did. I respect that.

You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?

You weren’t… completely against that.

Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)

Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.

His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.

You too, cowboy.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.

When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.

“Joel?”

Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.

“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”

“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.

“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.

“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”

“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.

You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you. 

“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip. 

He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.

“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.

“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.

“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.

“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”

You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”

“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”

You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him. 

“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”

It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.

You didn’t notice. 

A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.

“I’d love that.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?

“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.

“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.” 

You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.

“What about upstairs?”

Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.

“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar. 

You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.

“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold. 

You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.

You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.

When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.

“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.

It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.

Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.

“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.

He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him. 

His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.

Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.

“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.

His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face. 

When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.

“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.

He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.

He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.

“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.

“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.

“Yes, please, fill me up.”

You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.

The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.

He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.

He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.

“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.

A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.

“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”

You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.

“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”

You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss. 

You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.

“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head. 

In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

[dinogoofymutated]

Nightcrawler/GN!Reader The first Fic of the season is here!!! I'll go ahead an outright say that the other fic will NOT be this long and this in-depth. This one took me literally the whole month of september when it was only supposed to take me two weeks. I'm going to do my best to make sure that the other fics come out on time, but please have a little patience with me ;-; Also, This fic has not been beta read bc it is an absolute beast at 8k words (at least for me), so if anything seems off, or the ending was too abrupts, don't be mean lol.

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Tws: Demons, stereotypical witchcraft, Alcohol consumption, Graphic depictions of blood and wounds for a minute, I'll add more if I can think of any.

    When the keys are plopped carelessly into your hands, they’re cold. They’re still cold, two weeks later when you finish moving in. It wasn't a fancy affair, no movers or big trucks, just some friends and the van they borrowed from the school. Truthfully, you didn’t really have a lot anyway. Most of them had honestly only shown up to offer their condolences for your loss.

    Your groceries feel heavier than normal when you set them on the kitchen counter, stepping back with a sigh. Never in your wildest dreams would you have even imagined of living in a place like this. You’d never even visited Aunt Maude’s house- Your, house. Sure, you and the rest of the family all knew she was well-off, but no one had a clue that when the will was read she had left you a Victorian-era mansion along with her estate. Even you hadn’t until you googled her address after the lawyer gave you the keys. 

    As surprising as it was, it was definitely your Great-Aunt Maude’s house. Every bathroom, bedroom, living space, You could see her in all of it. She was kooky and eclectic, with a love for all things strange and unusual. It was comforting, almost. To be wrapped in a house filled with the remnants of your aunt. Your eyes sting as you begin to fill up the long empty fridge, organizing it to your liking. You close the door and see your graduation photos stuck to it, along with a photo strip from the photo booth she dragged you into at your sweet sixteen. You suck in a shakey sob, tears welling in your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. You’re sad, and exhausted, and you haven't even unpacked yet, most of your belongings set in boxes in the Sitting room and Hallway.  But you just… couldn’t bring yourself to bother. Everything that was cold was already put in the fridge, so you decided the rest can wait till the morning.

    You trudge up the stairs with as much energy as you can muster, and when you finally make it to the master bedroom, you’re ready to pass out. The room is decorated in a way that feels much more like you than it felt like your Aunt, and you notice that the quilt on the bed was one she had shown you at Christmas one year. One you told her you very much envied. It was like she had made the room your own before she even stepped foot into the nursing home. The thought is enough to choke you up again. You crawl underneath the soft covers in a pretty pitiful manner, falling asleep almost immediately. 

    It’s only when you wake up the next morning that you start to notice something strange about this house. 

    The kitchen is a somewhat long walk from the upstares bedroom, and you’re basically starving by the time you get downstairs. You yawn as you grab the milk out of the fridge, still feeling half asleep as you turn around to grab the cereal off the counter only to find it… gone. In fact, all of the groceries you had left on the counter yesterday were gone.

     The realization is like a shot of ice through your veins. What the fuck?… You must have put them away last night, right? But you knew they were on the counter when you went to bed. You feel like you’re going to throw up, thinking about the chance that a burglar had broken in last night and you hadn’t heard it because you were upstairs. You sprint to the sitting room taking note of all your boxes and things, making sure to double-check that your TV was actually there and not a figment of your imagination, but it was definitely solid. You cautiously walk back to the kitchen, staring at the pantry door for an anxious moment before biting the bullet and swiftly opening it.

    All your groceries were in place. All are organized neatly exactly where you would have preferred them to be. Strange. You must have woken up last night and done it. Right? It wouldn’t be too absurd to assume you had put the groceries away half-asleep and forgotten about it. That had to be it. It’s not like someone broke in last night just to put your groceries away. Now that was just plain ridiculous. 

    From then on out, The strange things only seemed to continue.

    Sure, a house this old wasn’t without a general peculiarity about it, but after being told it hadn’t been inhabited since Aunt Maude put herself into inpatient care, it should be dusty, right? A home of this size, cluttered with the many odds and ends she had collected over the years? You’d never heard of a house that could dust itself. Your hands wander more than ever as you traverse the mansion, they run down the banister, across the pretty wallpaper, even taking a swipe at a shelf or two, and still, they’re clean. Not a smudge or spec of dirt on your fingers. 

    Strange, but not unexplainable. Maybe she had scheduled a cleaning service to take place after her death or something. You didn’t know. But a week goes by. Then two and then three, and everything is still spotless. And that was the least of it. Lights seemed to turn off by themselves at night. Things that you’re sure you heard fall were placed upright. If you forgot to turn the oven off, it would already be cool by the time you ran back into the kitchen- and the house constantly smelled like sulfur and brimstone. At this point, you’ve called the fire department so many times worried about a gas leak that they think you’ve gone crazy. 

    You just felt… Uneasy. Like you were being watched.

    “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Jean.” You watch as the redhead tries to hide a smile on the other side of the Facetime call, and you can’t help but pout a little when she inevitably laughs. Your little image on the top part of the camera must look rather ridiculous, hands tangled in some string lights you had found in the closet. As strangely organized and spotless as everything was, it seems that the Christmas lights in the back of the closet weren’t so lucky. Yay for you. 

    “Look, you’re just overthinking things. Don’t stress out about it.” Jean says, ever the voice of reason. You know she’s probably right. “Besides, you’ve been through a lot lately. It’s not abnormal for stress to do weird things to the mind.”

    “Yeah, I guess so.” You mumble. Detangling these lights is beginning to be a bit trickier than you first expected them to be. Each tangle and loop seems to be interconnected, and no matter how gently or firmly you are with the cords, another knot seems to form with every probable success. You sigh in annoyance, and Jean raises an eyebrow at you. 

    “Do I need to ask about the Christmas lights?” You’re about ready to give up on them when she asks, dramatically dropping them in your lap.

    “Well, remember how I was gonna throw that big Halloween party this year?” Jean hums in response. “Well, turns out that all the decorations I had for the apartment only cover like, an eighth of the house. I’ve been rummaging around in the closets all day to try and find something that might work and all I’ve been able to find is this.” You hold up the old, tangled lights for her to see.

    “That’s weird. With what I know about your Aunt, you’d think that she’d have a ton of decorations.” Jean mentions. You groan loudly, pressing your palms into the round edges of your eyesockets in frustration. 

    “Exactly! She loved Halloween, and with a house like this, there’s no way she’d just leave it bare. I’ve raided practically every closet and storage room in the house and haven’t found anything at all.” You almost shout the words, exasperated at this point. You knew for a fact Aunt Maude had to have something. It didn’t matter if it was even one of those awful animatronic jumping spiders at this point, you’d take anything if it meant you wouldn’t have to tap into your inheritance to decorate this big ass house (because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to decorate, you’d never disgrace your Aunt’s memory like that.). Jean is quiet for a moment, looking sympathetic through the screen. To be honest, as much as you value Jean’s advice, you’re beginning to think she’s got nothing to help you until-

    “Are you sure there’s not an attic or anything?”

    The thought makes you pause.

    “Oh my god, I’m an actual idiot.” You practically shriek the words, quickly standing from the floor and shoving the Christmas lights to the side as you run to get some shoes on. The attic! God, you feel so stupid for not thinking of it before! All you had to do was find the access hatch!

    “Just be careful though! Even though the house is renovated, that doesn’t mean-”

    “I’ll call you later, Okay? I’m gonna go look upstairs!”

    “No no no, don’t-”

    It takes you forever to find that damn attic. You’d think that it would be easy to find, seeing that it’s sort of an important structure in this house, but nooo. It’s been almost a month since you moved in, and yet you still feel like you’re lost while you wander around the third floor. How hard could it be to find a simple hatch? You feel like you’re looking in all the wrong places, and you know you probably are. You’re pacing around one of the third-floor bedrooms looking at the ceiling when a noise from the billiards room across the hall makes you freeze. 

    Were those footsteps?

    No, you were home alone. It couldn’t be. 

    Still, the sound leaves you on edge. You stalk across the hallway, stopping at the door to the other room as you briefly debate on how to open it. A small shuffle from the ceiling makes you jump a little, and you quickly decide, Fuck it. We ball. 

    You swing the door open with a bit more force than necessary and find the room… empty. Right. Of course, it was. You sigh in relief, running a stressed hand through your scalp as you take in the sight of the room for the first time since your original walk-through of the home. 

    In your brief scan of the room, you manage to spot a small string hanging right above the pool table, swinging back and forth. You slowly look up, and there it is. The fucking attic hatch. 

    “Oh god damn it. Was it really that easy to find?” You mumble to yourself, wondering if you really were just that stupid. 

    It doesn’t take a lot of time to move the pool table over so that you can open the latch and pull the rickety old ladder down. It looked more modern than most of the house, but it was easy to tell it was about as old as you were. You take a moment to just stare into the black hole in the ceiling, wondering if all this was really worth it. Well, you already spent all this time looking for the thing, so…

    You’re a little extra careful as you climb the ladder up into the attic, using the flashlight in your phone to light the way the further you go. The attic is a little bit dustier than the rest of the house, but to be honest, it was cleaner than you were expecting. It's dark and cramped, but once you fully enter you find that you can at least stand up to your full height. The excitement of finding the place has begun to wear off, and you start to feel a little flighty as you look around and the light from your flashlight shifts. This is okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe she had lights installed, right? You look up at the roof and are thankful to see those long, industrial fluorescent lights screwed to the ceiling. Thank god. 

    It takes a minute of stumbling and carefully following the wires to a corner of the attic, doing your best not to trip over anything along the way, and you find a small light switch in the corner of the room. You breathe a sigh of relief as you flick it on, and the lights overhead blink and light up. That’s a bit better!

    You find that Aunt Maude’s attic is cluttered with various random items, some older, others a bit more modern. The exercise bike and the Zumba tapes made you laugh a little as you passed them by, while some older cloth dolls and bunnies just made you uncomfortable. You’re not really sure where to start the search, so you just walk around for a minute. One of the lights overhead is starting to flicker a little, and you’re inwardly hoping that there’s no faulty wiring or anything that might start a fire when your foot catches on something.

    “Oh Shit!”

    There’s not a lot of time for you to catch yourself when you fall, eating absolute shit as you fall face-first into a stack of boxes. You smash your nose into something particularly hard when you land, and there’s a variety of shapes sticking into your sides that have sprouted from the smashed boxes below you. Ow, ow ow! God damnit! This is what you get for not listening to Jean. You feel a little dizzy as you sit up amongst the boxes, holding your nose tightly while you wonder if you just broke it. Your eyes are blurry from the pain, and it takes a second for you to fully come to.

    “What the hell did I just fall into?” You’re blinking away the blurriness as the sight in front of you finally starts to clear, A bunch of broken boxes now greeting you. Boxes that now had a bunch of plastic bones sticking out of the torn sides. You make a fairly embarrassing noise of excitement when you realize you had found exactly what you were looking for in the first place. The Halloween decorations!! Thank god! You were so unbelievably happy to find them that you couldn’t help but reach forward and look through the boxes immediately. 

    After thoroughly inspecting the contents, you realize that there were about eight large boxes of Halloween decorations in total. Motherfucking eight! This was perfect! The only thing was that there was still one little issue: getting them downstairs. You try not to think about those rickety ladders too hard as you move each box to a place a little easier to get to. Your back is already aching when you’re done for the moment, so you decide to sit down on the floor and lean back a little, catching your breath while looking at those eight, somewhat heavy boxes you were gonna have to fool around with in just a moment. Your foot nudges something as you do so. Hm. 

    Sitting up a little bit, you can see that it’s a floorboard, just sticking out a little bit. Oh! Guess that’s what you tripped over earlier. You try and press it back down with your foot, and that definitely doesn't work. Damn. Hopefully, you could find a hammer or something to tack it back down. You scoot over to get a better look when you notice that there’s something underneath, a dark blue color just faintly catching your eye. Curious, you lift the board a little, and after a tug or two, it gives way.

    You find an old, leatherbound book underneath. It’s got no clear name on the cover or the spine, simply a rune or emblem of sorts burned into the upper left corner. Finding it a bit strange, you flip open the cover, thinking that it must be a diary or something left by the original owners as a time capsule of sorts- but it’s not. Every page in the book is blank except for the very last one. This book is not what it has been. When the Veil strains thin will the ink be seen.

    Weird, but okay. You assume it’s a novelty or a trick or something, but it looks spooky enough, so you gently set it in one of the more empty boxes of Halloween decorations. Now it was time for the hard part.

    You drag one box at a time to the ladder, and looking at the size of them vs. the skinny steps below you, you wonder just how the hell Aunt Maude got these up here in the first place. Just thinking about getting these downstairs is intimidating, but you were never a quitter. One by one, you carefully take each box down, making sure to never carry more than you can handle and to keep a good grip on the ladder no matter what. After about 20 minutes, you get about halfway through. Four boxes down, four to go. Your arms are getting a bit tired and you’re a bit sweaty from the lack of AC in the attic, but you think you’ve got it. 

     On the fifth box of decorations, your foot slips. You gasp in shock, your stomach flipping as you fall backward- a split second of absolute terror as you fall. You’re terrified that you’re gonna die, and that Jean will never forgive you and you’d never get to throw that stupid party you were doing all this work for in the first place. 

    The air is knocked from your lungs from something that felt much more like a catch than it did the floor. You don't know what’s going on for a moment, eyes shut tight as the shock begins to wear off and you realize that you’re fine… Wait. Hold on. Someone had definitely caught you, and unless Jean had snuck in…

    To be honest, whatever you were expecting when you opened your eyes was very, very much wrong. Your heart is beating a million times a minute, a chill running through you when you finally register who is above you. Or what, rather. The first thing you see are his eyes. Yellow from pupil to scelera, almost glowing in the low light of the billiards room. He’s more fuzz than skin, blue in color, with devilishly sharp canine teeth he reveals with a sheepish smile.

    “Hallo?”

    He flinches when you shriek, doing his best not to drop you as you squirm out of his arms. Your knees give out the moment your feet hit the floor, and you scramble back, grabbing the first box you can and throwing anything you can find at him. 

    “Sorry- Sorry! I had not mean to scare you!” He holds his arms up to block each decoration you throw at him. A few plastic spiders, a zip lock of polyester faux webbing, and a little floral crow or two. You can hardly even think at the moment.

    “Stop! Please stop! I didn't want to let you fall!” He flinches at each item although none of them are very heavy. You’re running out of things to throw, stalling for a moment as you debate lunging for one of the other boxes.

    “WHAT ARE YOU?!” You shriek again.  He opens his mouth to speak as he takes a step back, and you flinch as you see something move in the corner of your eye- a tail. A spaded fucking demon tail. You had to be losing it. Having hallucinations or a nightmare or something- but as it turns out, you are definitely a fight-over-freeze kind of person, and your body kicks in before your brain has caught up. The box of bones was next to go. A hand, and then two small rib cages and a slightly heavy bundle of newspaper fly through the air.

     “Careful!” He flat-out ignores the other items, going wide-eyed at the ball of newspaper and lunging to catch it in time. He takes an audible sigh of relief when he does, and says something that makes you pause from pelting him with any more Halloween shit.

    “You’re certainly Maude’s kin, but I doubt she’d appreciate you throwing her breakables.” He halfheartedly jokes, an awkward smile on his face. You’re mid-throw with another bone, hand frozen in the air with a range of emotions going on in your head.

    “Excuse me?” You ask, possibly a little overdramatic at the moment. He goes to move, probably to set the wad of newspaper down, but you raise your hand again as if to throw, making a face at him that’s a little more goofy than it was intimidating. He hands the newspaper off to his tail, raising his hands to show that he means no harm.

    “Maude? The woman who lived here before?”

    “Yeah, I got that part!” You cry out, hands shaking a bit from adrenaline. “How do you know my Aunt Maude? And what are you!? Why are you here!?” The rapid-fire questions seem to interrupt him every time he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to lose his patience with you. He very calmly places the wad of newspaper on top of a box that happens to be near, and you eye him suspiciously as he does. He sits down next to it, the tip of his tail swaying just slightly.

    “Maybe we should take a step back, Ja? I can explain everything, I promise.” He says, patting the space next to him. “Herkommen. It might be better to sit for this.” His smile is polite, and if this situation were any different, you might find his kind demeanor charming. But the situation isn’t different. He was a stranger in your house. A blue, possible-demon stranger, with a tail and what you think looks like small, pointed horns sticking out from the thick curls that cover his hairline. You eye him suspiciously, halfway wondering if this was a trick of sorts. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to sit. Eventually, you do, but not next to him, definitely not. You sit down right where you are, hesitant and fidgety as he begins to speak.

    Of course, it would be your Aunt to summon a demon to aid her with her ridiculous (lovely) house in her failing health, instead of hiring a fucking nurse, or an assistant, or just selling the damn thing. Of course, it would be your Aunt to leave you the house with said demon in it, and not tell you. OF COURSE, It would be your aunt to tell him to take it slow while introducing himself so he wouldn't freak you out, and OF-FREAKING-COURSE, it would be you who almost killed yourself on accident and completely derail that plan. Jesus, what was worse? The fact that your aunt was apparently an actual witch who summoned demons in her elderly years, or that she didn’t explain any of this to you before leaving you the house. You didn't know how to unpack all of this, hell, you weren’t even done unpacking all of your things. 

    Well, It’s not like you could (or would) kick him out really, but in the coming weeks, you notice that Kurt is really more of a butler than a roommate.

    He’s been cleaning even before you knew he existed, but now that the grand reveal was over, you see him around the house much more often. He helps you with groceries, cooks for you when you’re exhausted, he takes the trash out sometimes too, when the sun goes down. He doesn’t go outside in the front yard very much to avoid being seen, but every once in a while, he’ll take a walk with you in the backyard. You were hesitant of him for a good bit, but you’d be a liar if you said he didn’t have a way of worming his way into your good graces. He’s… sweet. And easy to get along with. He effortlessly fits into your life, and you find yourself excited to see him when you wake up every day. You get along so well that it makes you wonder if your aunt had known that you would when she summoned him, or… you know what, probably not. 

    You learn more about him as the weeks go by. His past, his hopes for the future. You learn that his father is a demon lord of some sort, and his mothers are a bit more complicated. All three are dangerous, and all three are trying to find him. 

    “Is that why you took the pact with my Aunt?” You ask, late one night. Both of you have drinks in hand, leaning back on a pile of pillows and cushions you found in the tower room. It’s comfortable, if a bit warm. The two of you are a little flushed, words surprisingly clear as you speak. Despite being a demon, you find that Kurt is a bit of a lightweight. An accident on your part, having poured the drinks a little stronger thinking that he had a bit more tolerance. 

    “Mostly.” Kurt hums. He’s fully leaning against you, head resting snugly against your own with his tail curled around your abdomen. His horns are resting against your temple in a rather uncomfortable manner, but you don’t mention it. He takes another drink.

    “I don’t know how she knew. Or if she knew, really. Magic is specific to each demon, like a fingerprint of sorts, just a bit easier to track. When a demon makes a pact, their magic is filtered through the pact-bearer- which creates a different kind of magic. I needed a place to hide, she was offering me a home. It was easy.” His words slur a little where his accent tends to come out a bit stronger.

    “Was that all she offered you? A place to stay?”

    “That and…” He trails off for a quick moment, clearing his throat to change the subject. “Well, anyway. I was desperate, and she seemed kind, so I agreed.” You nod as you think it over yourself. You can’t tell if he’s just drunk or it's a sensitive subject, but he can’t just have accepted the many tasks of cleaning and caring for an old woman for something less in return. Was it that easy for demons to make pacts like that? Surely, she wouldn’t have offered him her soul or anything.

    You open your mouth to ask him more questions, but when a light snore reaches your ears, you know he’s fallen asleep. You can't help but smile, a warmth in your chest that you don’t really think is from the alcohol.

    A few days later, it’s Saturday, October 31st. After some long weekends and late nights, you finally have the whole house decorated, inside and out! You were so beyond excited. The whole place looked like it had come straight out of a Halloween catalog! You were so proud of how amazing it looked, but you could never have taken all the credit. Kurt was a big help, both with the placement and creativity of the many decorations. Everything that had to be put outside had to be done so at night so that Kurt wouldn’t be seen, and sure, sometimes you would wake up and see a few things were crooked, but at least it was fun! You’ve never felt so invigorated and filled with Halloween spirit, especially now, a few hours before the party. You’re shaking some full-sized candy bars into a big-ass plastic cauldron, and Kurt walks in with his arms full of Party favors for tonight.

    “You know, I’m not sure you could give away all of these if you tried!” Kurt laughs, setting them all down on the coffee table in the sitting room. It's a bunch of plastic spider rings, vampire teeth, squishy skeletons, slap bracelets, and more. All sorted into their own neat ziplock bags. The apartment complex you used to live at never really got any trick-or-treaters, so you had a lot of leftover goodies you were happy to finally use. You let out an excited giggle, taking one of the bags and emptying it into the cauldron. 

    “You’ll be surprised! With the neighborhood that’s just around the corner, I know for a fact that we’ll have plenty of kids come by!” You almost sing. Kurt smiles at you, taking a bag of his own to empty. 

    “Don’t get your hopes up, Schatz. It’s an old building, and rather scary from afar. Maude never really had a lot of visitors on Halloween.” You pout at his words, before tilting your head like you’re considering them as you continue to fill the cauldron. 

    “True, but Aunt Maude never tried posting on neighborhood Facebook groups and hyping up PTA moms before. Besides, the house is scary, but that's what the lights are for!” Kurt shakes his head, laughing as you voice the thought. You mayyy have gone overboard this year. A few extra strands of lights, blow-ups, and animatronics never hurt anybody, right? I mean, with most of your expenses taken care of due to the paid-off mansion you live in, you were able to spend a little bit more of your personal spending money on Halloween. Your new home was a whole-ass Halloween attraction, and a good bit of the neighborhood thought so too! After posting online, you were pleasantly surprised with the positive feedback from the surrounding neighborhoods, and had even personally met a few kind neighbors since!

    Kurt however, couldn’t risk being seen, and had to hide every time. Most people would freak out, just like you did, and the attention isn’t really a good thing for him. The thought sends you on the same spiral that you had been on for the past week, and the smile slowly slips off your face as Kurt takes the pot from you and begins to mix the goodies all together.

    “...You’re sure you don’t want to come tonight?” You ask, vulnerability shining through your voice. Kurt looks up from the task, brow furrowed. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then looks back down again.

    “I don’t want to scare anyone.” He says softly, making your frown deepen.

    “You won’t! I promise you won’t. None of my friends scare easily- and besides! It’s Halloween. Everyone will just think you’re in a costume!” You try to make the last bit of the plea happy and convincing, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. Kurt doesn’t look at you until he’s done with the pot, placing it back on the coffee table. When he does, his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes,

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz. I promise. It will be easier for me to just hide. I can easily enjoy the party from a distance.” The words aren’t very convincing, but before you can say anything else, the doorbell rings. Kurt dusts himself off as he stands, tail swaying as he pulls you to your feet. 

    “Looks like your guests are early. Make sure to have fun tonight, Ja? I’ll see you later.” Kurt squeezes your hands, and you try not to look too disappointed. After all, it was his decision, and you don’t want him to feel forced to show himself when so much could go wrong. You give him a moment to head back upstairs, disappearing like he used to do back in the beginning. You can’t help but sigh a little, but there’s a hesitant knock on the door instead of the doorbell this time, and you know you can’t just stand here and ignore it.

    You don’t really know who is going to be on the other side of the door, with it being mid-afternoon and still a hot minute before the party actually starts, but the bloody, red-haired Carrie on the other side of the door brightens your spirits the moment you see her.

    “Jean!” You cheer, rushing to give her a hug that she warmly returns.

    “Happy Halloween!” Jean says before pulling away. “I hope you don’t mind, I thought I’d come by a little early to help you set up.” 

    “Are you kidding? I have a whole ass kitchen of food I still need to plate.” You step aside to let Jean in as she laughs. You were originally to do most of the prep with Kurt, and although Jean is technically interrupting, you try not to let it get you down. This is the first time you’ve seen her in a long while, and you were already rather lucky that Halloween was falling on a Saturday this year- most of your friends/guests all working at the prep school nearby. 

    “Am I the first one here?” Jean asks as you lead her to the kitchen, and you hum in response.

    “Yup, It’s been just me all day.” You’ve never been the best liar, but you think you’re a little convincing at least. 

    “Funny, I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice when I rang the doorbell.” Jean’s smug tone almost makes you stop in place. If you were even a little convinced that some of this house was soundproof, those hopes were dashed instantly. You smile nervously, trying to play it off as you pass the sitting room, the TV giving you an idea.

    “Whaaaattt? No. I mean- I’ve had the TV in the sitting room running all day, so maybe that’s what you heard.” You say, trying to wave her off. Unfortunately, Jean had the ungodly ability to pick up your anxiety like a goddamn bloodhound.

    “Really? There’s not some mystery boyfriend you’re not telling me about?” Jean teases. You get stiff and quiet immediately, biting your lip as you reach the kitchen. She takes the silence as an affirmative answer, and she’s not exactly far off. Jean cocks an eyebrow at your nervous stance, chuckling at the sweat that practically beads at your brow. You try to hide the flush of your cheeks by busying yourself with setting out different snack foods to organize and avoiding her eyes, but it doesn’t work. 

    “Oh come on, I’m not blind. You’re over there blushing like a student. Who’s the lucky guy?” Jean asks, helping you with the task. You begin to open a back of chips, looking away from Jean’s knowing gaze.

    “I- We’re- We’re not really a thing. He’s just a friend.” You say, heart thundering in your chest as you pray Kurt isn’t lurking nearby. You’re struggling with the bag still, and Jean holds her hands out as an offer. You hand it to her without a second thought, and she opens the bag easily.

    “And is this friend coming to the party tonight?” She asks. You stall for a moment. All you can hear are the soft clinks of the chips hitting the inside of one of the bowls you had set out. You’re not quite sure what to say to that, or even if you had anything to say. Your hesitance makes her frown, looking up at you cautiously. When she puts the bag back down, she reaches out to take your hand. 

    “Well, if he does stop by, I’ll be glad to meet him.” Her tone is reassuring, and you muster a small smile for her. Tonight was supposed to be fun, so you’d do your best to enjoy it.

    The night goes by busier than you ever would have expected. Everyone comes dressed to the absolute nines in their costumes, and although a few were lacking in imagination in your opinion- Logan specifically- everyone looked amazing. You quickly realize that It’s harder to be a good hostess in this big ass house than you would think. Between the food, trying to catch up with friends, and the doorbell constantly ringing with practically a line down your driveway of more trick-or-treaters than you’ve ever seen, you were constantly busy. Lucky for you, you had good people around you. Logan and Scott thankfully took over cooking hamburgers and hotdogs- and Jean promised to keep them from butting heads. Ororo and Xavier happily volunteered to hand out the candy when you couldn’t, and you had Jubilee to count on when it came to the music. The house was busy, people were smiling, and overall, everything was going really well. 

    The only downside was that you hadn’t seen Kurt since Jean arrived. Sure, it was busy, but every time you managed to pry yourself away from the crowd and look for him in his usual hidey-spots, you never found him. He’s good at being sneaky, I mean he has to be, right? Being blue and all, but his consistent absence makes you a little nervous. He’s probably just being extra cautious, and you can’t blame him for that.

    After a few drinks have been had, spirits are high, and some different party games you had planned were finished, it was time to vote for best costume. Almost everyone had gone outside, enjoying the yard and the house in all its festive glory, but you stayed inside to count the votes. Kitty and Illiyana had volunteered to help you, and it takes a surprising amount of time to count the various strips of colored construction paper. In the end, it seems like it was really more of a “most ridiculous” costume contest instead. Jubilee, dressed as the one in only Kool-aide-man in the biggest plastic fishbowl you’d ever seen, won best costume by a single point, with Kevin’s fantastic costume of Professor Xavier himself a single point behind. You try your best not to laugh, knowing that they are not going to be too happy about that. You had bought a light up-sash and a plastic crown for the winner, stopping to grab them before stepping outside to try and find the teen. 

    Somehow, you can’t find her. I mean, You think it would be easy to find a huge red bowl with a face on it, but she’s not outside at all. When you ask Hank, he says he’s pretty sure she went back inside, so inside you go. You’re starting to get a little anxious at this point, not finding her on the first, or second floor. The third floor is completely dark, aside from the colorful light coming from the windows. You call out her name with no response, and then thinking that Kurt may have seen her, you call out his name next. Nothing. He’s never done that before. Sure, there was a lot going on, but normally he’d at least try to answer you. You creep from door to door upstairs, without any luck, when a muffled sound from the tower room falls on your ears. It makes you pause for a moment. It might be nothing, but you remember telling Jubilee about the room earlier, so you figure it wouldn’t hurt to check.

    You’re hesitant, but then there's another muffled cry, and this time, you know it’s him. You slowly creep up over to the door, and then up the stairs to the room. Minutes feel like hours, and when you finally get there, you find Kurt, on his knees and doubled over in pain with his hands pressed to his chest.

    “Oh my god, Kurt!” You cry out, running over to him. His face is scrunched up in a wince, his eyes shooting open when you try to help him sit up. 

     “No, no- You can't be here- You need to go,” Kurt’s voice comes out between heaving breaths. Your hands are shaking, panicked as you spot the blood seeping through his shirt. He hisses in pain when you touch the spot, as if he’s been burned, and when his hands quickly tug your wrist away- his neckline shifts. There’s a brand over his heart. Etched into him as if it were carved with a scalpel.

    “What happened? What's happening?” The words come out faster than your brain can catch up. His nails are elongated, razor-sharp points almost digging into the skin of your wrist as hold hold shifts. The brand glows as another wave of pain washes over him. Those small points that normally hide in his curly hair have grown, too. His horns sweep over his head, prominent and black at the very tips. He cries out, slumping forward onto your shoulder as the pain passes.

    “You need to go. Bitte- I need you to leave.” Kurt almost whimpers, practically limp against you as he tries to catch his breath. “It’s Azazel, my Vater. He’s found me. He’s using the brand to track me down. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.” He stiffens as another wave of pain hits him, and you do your best to keep upright. There’s so much running through your head, concern, confusion. You don't know how to help him besides holding up up and it's killing you to see him like this.

    “I don’t understand- I thought he couldn’t find you unless you used magic?” Kurt looks ashamed when you ask the question, tucking his head further into your shoulder. It's only then that you actually take a look at the room around you. There's an open book on the ground, runes and lettering you don't understand scatter the pages, along with a diagram of a devil that seemingly shifts into something more human and back at every shift of your eye. When you see the worn cover, you recognize it as the book beneath the floorboards- and you finally understand that it's a spellbook.

    “I… I wanted to join you.” Kurt whispers, unable to look you in the eye. “My Mutter was skilled in transmutation so I…” He trails off, shaking his head and wincing when another sharp pain shoots through him.

    “It was stupid. I’m sorry. I should never have touched it without a pact.”

    “If you make one now, will the brand disappear?” 

    Kurt visibly pauses. Sitting up as best he can to get a look at your face. You're still panicking, but overall you feel mortified. Ashamed. Did you do this? Were you so instant that he came tonight that he would risk everything just to do so? What was wrong with you- and why on God's green earth would he actually try to go through with it? You're beginning to tear up, swallowing down your thoughts as you offer the only thing you can think of. Kurt doesn't answer you at first, his yellow eyes wide with shock as he stares at you. 

    “If you make a new pact, will you be able to dispel the tracker?” You repeat, trying so hard to seem confident and self-assured through your shaky voice. Kurt’s face shifts into something you can't quite place, and he shakes his head.

    “I can’t ask that of you-”

    “Kurt, just answer me!” You’re too stubborn to let it go. A trait that you and Maude often shared. Kurt takes your hands into his own, squeezing them, and shakes his head. He's insistent in his own right, conveying his worry and fears- not for his own future, but yours.

    “This isn’t the way you want to gain a pact! Maude had made preparations. She had charms and protections and rules in place! There’s no time for us to do the same. If you make a pact with me now with nothing? It would bind your soul to mine for eternity. You would have no rest, no peace- no Heaven. I won’t-”

    “I love you!” Kurt sucks in a sharp breath at your exclamation. Tears have started to roll down your face no matter how hard you were trying to blink them away. 

    “I don’t care about eternity, or rest- or any of that. I love you. Fuck- I know I haven’t even known you three months- I just…” You trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment that all of this had to come out in such bullshit circumstances.

    “Please just make the pact.”

    Kurt’s eyes soften, almost scanning your own as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears from your face, careful of his claws, and then suddenly, he kisses you. It’s easy for you to melt into his desperate kiss, a hand coming up to cup his face as he pulls you closer with his tail. The strong limb pulls you into a straddle across his lap as he takes your free hand in his own. When he breaks the kiss, he does so with a mumbled apology as he takes your free hand. You feel a sudden stinging pain as a careful claw slices across your palm, and he apologizes again as he presses it over his heart, directly against the bleeding brand. Both of you hiss at the sudden, blinding pain as his hand continues to press your palm tightly to the wound.

    There’s an energy that begins to fill your body, like an electric current that links the two of you together. Your skin is buzzing, your head spinning as you fall against his shoulder in a mirror of his own position earlier. Kurt’s new claws dig into his own skin, and he grits his teeth as the pain from the brand grows more and more- before everything stops.

    You wish you could say there was some spark, or spoken words, or something, but it all ends almost anti-climatically. Everything stops. Everything is quiet- almost too quiet. Whatever vertigo you are feeling begins to wear off, and when you feel like you can finally lift your head, you look at Kurt.

    He’s smiling at you, horns reduced, fingernails shortened, with your hand still pressed over his heart- the brand gone and the skin healed on both of you

    “Is it over?”

    “It’s over.” He confirms, and you sigh in relief, pressing your forehead against his own. Kurt doesn't take long before he’s pressing kisses all over your face, holding you still as you giggle and squirm. You know there’s more to be said between you, but it’s been one hell of a night, and right now you’re enjoying the comfortable silence between Kurt’s fluttering kisses- until someone calls your name from the tower stairs.

    “Hey, You in there?” Jean’s voice echoes through the space, and you sit straight up, heart given a jumpstart as Jean comes into view- you don’t have time to move before she gets there.

    “You’ll never guess where we found Jube….” She trails off when she sees you and Kurt. “Oh?” Your face is as red as it can get, panic shooting through you at the realization that she’s seen the actual demon living in your home. All he does though is smile and wave, although a bit nervously. Jean raises an eyebrow, beginning to smile just as you realize the position the two of you are in.

    “Nice costume,” Jean says, and after a moment of confusion, you realize she’s talking to Kurt. Kurt looks relieved, shoulders relaxing underneath you, and you clear your throat.

    “Jean, this is Kurt.” 

    The air settles in the Tower room once it’s empty, the sound of the party downstairs is muffled through the floorboards, but still present nonetheless. There’s almost a giggle in the air, and the book flips from page to page before it closes shut, and the ink fades as the grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway strikes midnight. A pact is completed, and the energy in the air begins to fade. After all, a soul can’t leave the mortal plane until its final business has been finished, and Maude had not promised her own soul to the friendly blue devil, but no one said she couldn’t offer something else- a soulmate. 

[revelboo]

Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍

Aww! Thank you so much!

I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.

Everything is Alright Pt 32

Starscream x Reader-guardian

• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.

• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.

• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.

• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.

• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.

• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.

• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.

• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.

• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.

Previous Next

[starrystella85]

Home Sweet Home Au (image and Au by: @MissMio)

Since the day you left that hell scape of a toy factory known as Playtime Co. you may have brought some stowaways with you, specifically Dogday, Catnap, Kissy, Huggy, Poppy, you get the idea. The human toy experiments that Playtime Co. created from their insane and sadistic imagination, honestly what were they thinking when they did this, anyways you took them home with you to your giant mansion in the woods, that your family owned thanks to not only the money you had made at Playtime Co. while it was still in operation, but because your family owned a huge marketing company that made millions. What was it named? Safe Heaven Toys LLC, funny really that your life revolved around toys.

On the drive home cause you had to make multiple trips during the night so no one would see the monstrosities that were once human in the back of your truck, you pulled into the driveway with the last of the toys, and as soon as you step inside Dogday and Catnap are the first to greet you.

"Welcome home Angel!" The orange stuffed dog said as his tail wagged violently through the air, his tone upbeat and energetic.

"Savior. . .welcome." The purple cat said in a more sleepy tone, but nonetheless excited to see you as his tail snaked it's way around your hips.

"hey guys. . .ugh. . ." You said to them before almost collapsing from the amount of sleep and sustenance you were deprived of, you were lucky that Carnap still had his tail wrapped around your hips to make sure you wouldn't fall face first.

"You need. . .rest now. . .Savior." Catnap stated and honestly you couldn't have agreed more. And so you were brought upstairs to the master bedroom, your room and placed on your king sized bed. As soon as you hit the mattress you pass out immediately, out like a damn light. It would take at least a week before you can recover from all the bullshit that you when through or so the toys thought. Apparently you only need like three days of sleep and a large portion of food, but other than that you were good.

Everyday for the next three days the toys would check on you, making sure that you were alright and well provided for, then just like that you were back on your feet ready to start the day. You've never felt *this* peaceful before, actually you've never felt *this* peaceful a day in your life since you were always moving and on the go, but it felt nice and finally having some company thanks to the living toys you didn't feel as lonely as you originally did before they came into your life.

"Angel how are you feeling now?" Dogday asks you know he's just doing it out of concern for you, he was always a sweet one, possessive? Maybe, but definitely sweet.

"I'm alright Dogday, I've just been doing one to many things that I crashed." You replied back to him, easing his worries, still there's a small glint in his eyes that say otherwise. "I'm being honest Dogday I'm fine." You told him as you began to scratch behind his ears making his foot do the weird moving thing. It was adorable to see and you couldn't help but scratch harder and harder which caused his tail to start thumping against the floor, causing a giggle to come out of your lips. Hearing your soft voice and fits of laughter caused a deep crimson blush to spread across Dogday's face. If he was given the chance he could listen to you all day, cause something about your voice just makes his heart flutter. Unfortunately the moment was short lived cause Catnap having a long ass tail like he does managed to snatch you up and drag you away from the loving pup that was Dogday.

"CATNAP!!! 💢" Yup Dogday was pissed as soon as you were stolen away from him. He tried searching all of the mansion but the mansion was to big and had one too many rooms that Catnap could use to hide, so the poor angry orange puppy gave up, but he swore if he saw that cat again he was going to teach him a lesson about stealing *HIS* angel away from him. Meanwhile Catnap and taken you to the more quiet areas of the house, mainly the ones you didn't have any use for and was just kinda sitting there gathering dust, except for a room that Catnap made to be his nesting spot. The room had a bunch of mattresses, blankets, pillows, and other soft plush-like materials he could find, half of them belonging to you, and the other half you don't know where in gods name he got it from. Probably stole it or something.

"hi Catnap." You said to the large purple cat as he looked at you while holding you within his arms. A faint purr came from his throat as his ears flicked, indicating that he acknowledges you.

"Savior. . ." He says. Ever since you saved him from, what would have been an unfortunate accident if you didn't intervene, was his near death encounter with 1006, and while he knows that he'll always be somewhat loyal to the prototype, he'll mostly be loyal to you just like, if more, the prototype.

Later you were wondering around aimlessly tell someone hugged you from behind. When you looked up you saw the blue huggable monster himself, Huggy Waggy. He'd changed since he and the other toys left the factory with you, and like Dogday, he was extremely clingy. It also didn't help that fact that whenever he looked at you he gave you this innocent little face as if saying "love me."

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 28

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.

A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.

Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.

“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair. 

“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”

You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”

Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting. 

“Daryl?”

He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”

You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain. 

Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip. 

Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas. 

“Y’okay?” 

Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started. 

“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”

“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again. 

Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”

“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”

You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone. 

“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.

“M’right here. Y’okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?” 

Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture. 

“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything? 

“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened.  “Y’alright?”

“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.

“Get some sleep.”

With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs. 

“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.

It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.

“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"

“She’s sleepin’.”

You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”

“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.” 

She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.

You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”

“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!” 

You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed. 

Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.

Oh shit.

“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him. 

Yet.

“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”

“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.

“S’wrong?” 

You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”

“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”

“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology. 

“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”

“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.

Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”

“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees. 

“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants. 

“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”

Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”

Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget. 

“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around. 

“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that. 

Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief. 

“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”

“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.

“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”

“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?

Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.

“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”

You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away. 

You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.

“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.

“Daryl?”

“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit. 

“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.

“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”

“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours. 

The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.

“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.

“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.

“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?

“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.

Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.

“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”

He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”

“Babies cry. How—what—”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.

“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”

“You’re not—”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.

“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out. 

Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.

“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 13

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, some fluff, lying, allusions of abuse, swearing, mentions of sleeping in a car

Word Count: 5500

Summary: The aftermath of what you've done hits you like a truck. Bob is just as blindsided by what you told him, and it's time the two of you have a real honest talk.

A/N: Hello everyone!! I can't believe my last post was in September, it makes me so sad. Anyway, I've been having the worst writers block as well as dealing with work and school, it's been so great. I thought I'd give you a shorter chapter to hold you over, and just thank all of you for sticking around. Enjoy, and happy reading!!

Masterlist

The steadying rhythm of your breathing is what lulled Bob to sleep. A sleep he might add where he didn’t dream. There were no visions of you pulling him closer, or kissing his cheek, his face, his hands. There wasn’t a part of him wondering what it would be like because that’s exactly what he fell asleep to. He’s already living it. For last night at least.

A whine from the side of his bed is what finally wakes him from his dreamless state. He goes to move his head toward the noise, but is swiftly deterred as you stir in his arms. A shift in the night must have caused you to fully wrap yourself around him. Nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, he tries not to shiver at your breath against his skin. He doesn’t think it’s real until he rubs your shoulder through the t-shirt he gave you last night. Your arm tightens around his stomach and for a second he thinks you’re waking up. Until you release another deep breath and he knows this is real. You’re really here.

Sylvia pulls at the side of his sheets with another whine. Glancing over at her, she sits patiently with her head tilted in his direction. Without another look, she walks over to the door, staring at it as if she’s willing it to open on its own. Bob wouldn’t be surprised if the one dog he adopted from the shelter had crazy telekinetic powers, especially this little weirdo. But that’s why he loves her.

With a silenced groan, he lets his head fall back just to take in this moment for one second longer. His hand runs across the smooth skin of your arm around his midsection as he breathes you in. You’re so warm and soft and he doesn’t want to get up. But he doesn’t want to be cleaning up pee at- he slowly picks up his phone from his side table- 7:00 a.m.

Ever so gently he untucks your face from his shoulder, resting your head on his pillow while your arm drapes over the unkempt sheets on his side. He watches you for a second, his hands outstretched over you as if he could keep you from waking if he held still for a moment longer. Without even a wiggle of your fingers, he follows Sylvia to the door, releasing her from the confines of the room as she rushes down the stairs and straight to the back door.

The rain has slowed to a small drizzle, clouds still clogging the sky. A rush of cold air flows into the house as Sylvia runs to the yard. He can’t help the goosebumps that crawl up his arms as he closes the door behind him. Even living this close to the ocean, the rain dampened breeze still remains the cleanest air he’s ever been able to breathe. It reminds him of you.

Not just because he held you close all night, breathing in the scent of rain from your skin and hair. But also because he can really, truly just breathe around you. Especially when he’s not trying to pretend around other people.

He takes in another deep breath before Sylvia’s done and running to the door to go back inside. Her paws pad to the kitchen as she stands in front of her bowl. Just staring.

“Oh, I guess you’re hungry now, too?”, he whispers. He laughs as she tilts her head. He fills her bowl with food, slightly cringing at the echo of it hitting the metal. Last he left you, you were in a pretty deep sleep. He’s only hoping this wasn’t the thing to wake you. The way you didn’t even flinch when he left your side. He didn’t even think it was possible for you to embed yourself even further into his brain until last night. He only hopes you don’t regret it when you wake up. Even if you do, he’s not going to force you into something you don’t want to be a part of. But god, does he want to go all in with you. What that looks like he’s not sure. All he knows is that breathing is easier when you’re with him. And he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him.

Rubbing his hands down his face, Bob walks to the bathroom. Everything’s a little blurry without his glasses, but just walking around his house is something he can manage. After washing his hands, he splashes cold water on his face. Just to make sure he really wasn’t dreaming. And as if the universe had the answer for him, he spots your clothes hanging over the shower curtain in the mirror. Not just your clothes. Your bra and underwear. Which means the only thing you’re wearing right now are his clothes.

Good lord, he needs to get a grip. Being the gentleman his mama raised him to be, he rids himself of the impulsive thought to look over your… intimates, while folding them up in your wet clothes and taking them to the dryer.

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

Oh dear god everything smells like him. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you notice the clothes you’re wearing. Even you smell like him. Wait. Where even is he? It isn’t until you hear the patter of Sylvia’s paws coming from downstairs that you take in a breath of relief. Why you were so worried he would have left his own house you don’t know. But you take a calming breath and steady yourself before taking a look at Bob’s room in the light of day. Or rather the muffled light from behind the clouds outside. There’s a couple scattered pieces of clothing, not any different from any other person. He’s still much tidier than yourself. Your eyes catch on his glasses, simply sitting on his nightstand. You smile at the sight. Just staring at them makes you feel like he’s close.

The sound of something sizzling in a frying pan and the scent of cinnamon and sugar welcomes you as you descend the stairs. Bob’s back is to you as he faces the stove, humming a song you can’t decipher. You watch while he flips whatever he’s cooking. His forearms flex as he lifts the pan, until you’re staring at his chest while he turns around to place what looks like french toast on a plate.

“That smells really good”, you compliment him as he flinches.

“Holy mother-”, he exclaims, attempting not to drop the pan. His eyes grow comically wide as you try to hide your laughter.

“Sorry”, you chuckle.

“No, it’s ok. I just didn’t see you there”, he smiles as he squints in your direction. And you’re reminded of what you swiped from his side of the bed.

“Well how could you? You’re not wearing these”, you ask as you lift his glasses in your hand.

“I’m not completely blind, ya know?”, he defends. He still extends his hand as you pad across the kitchen, giving his glasses to him. His eyes adjust as he puts them on. He immediately looks at you and you grant him a small smile. He gives one right back.

“Hi”, you whisper.

“Hi”, he whispers back. Clearing his throat he motions to the plate of french toast on the counter. “Made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Starving”, you say, pouring syrup all over your helping. “It just so happens that french toast is my favorite.”

“I thought it might be”, he says while plating up his own. You furrow your brow as he sits next to you.

“Why’d you think that?”

“It’s what you ordered when we went to brunch with Phoenix and Rachel”, he responds so casually while he takes a bite. You can’t help but stop and stare at him.

“What?”, he asks, swallowing a mouth full of french toast.

“You remember that?”

“Yeah”, he shrugs. Smiling down at your plate, you take a bite and melt at the cinnamon mapley goodness.

“Bob”, you can’t help but moan, “This is so good.”

“Glad to hear it”, he smiles as he takes another bite. The two of you continue to eat your breakfast under the light patter of rain.

“Is this something you make often?”, you ask in between taking bites of this moan-worthy breakfast.

“Um”, he laughs, “Sometimes. It’s my grandma’s recipe and I try to leave it to the master. Although she hasn’t made it for me since I last slept over. Which was-”, he huffs out a breath trying to find the memory.

“You’re telling me you didn’t have a sleepover at your grandma’s last time you were on leave?”

“Oh yeah, everytime I have leave I’m headed straight to Gammy’s for a sleepover”, he laughs. “But her french toast was always my grandpa’s favorite.”

“Is this your grandpa with the penny?”

“Yeah”, he laughs, “That’s Pappy Floyd for ya.” The two of you continue to eat your breakfast as the rain settles as the perfect backdrop for this lazy morning. When you’re finished you immediately start tending to the dishes in the sink.

“Hey-”, you cut Bob off before he has the chance to protest.

“Floyd, don’t even try to stop me from taking care of a few dishes after you just made me breakfast”, you scold him with a soapy hand. He surrenders with his hands in the air, but soon follows you to rinse and dry what you’ve scrubbed.

It’s quiet. Calm. This feels normal, which in turn makes you feel odd in your chest. His shoulder brushes yours every once in a while and the odd feeling appears in bursts with it. You could see yourself standing next to this man doing dishes for the rest of your- Whoa.

Ok, one dish at a time here. You still haven’t even talked about last night. And it’s creating this itch under your skin. One that you know you have to scratch, but you don’t want him to look at you while you do it. 

Unsure of what to do after finishing the last dish, you stare out the window in front of you. It’s stormy outside, clouds covering the once blue and sunny San Diego sky. It’s not unwelcome as the winds calm, just different.

Bob places the last dish to dry and watches as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It reveals the bruise he couldn’t tear his eyes away from last night, and it makes him feel protective again. Like for some reason he should have been there to stop it from happening. Even if it was an accident. He doesn’t want you to hurt. And most of all he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you. If he goes along with what he thinks you want to do, he is risking your entire career. But if he doesn’t? He’ll miss out on the best thing he thinks will ever happen to him. You.

“Hey”, he grabs your attention, breaking the silence. “We should talk.” You nod solemnly, the domestic morning forgotten as he leads you to sit on the couch again. You knew this was coming. Ok, you don’t know exactly what’s coming, but you try your best to quiet that voice in the back of your head telling you the worst outcomes. You try to ignore it, but as Bob sits in front of you and his mouth starts moving you realize you aren’t paying attention to him at all.

“I’m sorry-”, you shake your head, “What did you say?” His mouth twitches in the corner before he repeats himself.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Yeah”, you nod to convince yourself you’re doing alright. “Definitely feeling ok. Just a little embarrassed.”

“About what?”, he asks as you look anywhere but at him.

“I don’t know, just showing up completely unannounced last night. And dumping all my thoughts onto you. And now I feel… stupid.” Playing with a thread on the couch cushion, you mumble the last part.

“That’s not stupid. I actually think it’s very brave. The driving through a storm part though, that was stupid.” You breathe a laugh out through your nose as he smiles.

“I know. I just- I had to talk to you. And now… Before you say anything,  just know that I don’t ever want to put you in a position to make you do something you don’t want to. But the way I see it, we both know how we feel, now we just have to decide if we want to do something about it.” He chews on his lip while he reaches for your hand.

“Mantis, you mean a great deal to me-”, here it comes. The other shoe is about to drop, and you tell yourself you knew it was too good to be true the entire time. “I just don’t want you to go through with this and regret it.” Regret me, he means.

“Bob”, you try to find the words, “Every regret I have is not doing something. I’m not going to let this slip away from us.” He holds your gaze in silence. “Not if we both feel like this is something worth exploring.”

“I think this is very worth exploring.” That funny feeling crawls from your stomach to your throat. The good kind that turns sour once you realize what it means you’ll have to do to carry this through.

“If we do this, no one can know.” The conversation takes a solemn turn as your hard gaze bores into him. He hangs on to your every word, making sure he doesn’t miss anything. “Not Phoenix, Fanboy, or anyone from work. Not even our families.”

“And if you change your mind? If you-”, get sick of me, realize I’m not actually what you want, “Realize it’s not worth the risk?” He asks with a grimace. You squeeze his hand with a reassuring tenderness, hearing his unspoken thoughts.

“Let’s make a rule right now: No more lying to each other. We can have complete and open communication, so long as no one else knows about what we have going on, ok?” He nods and squeezes your hand. You pause and take a deep breath in before rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “And if either of us want out of this for whatever reason, we have to walk away. So long as the reason isn’t for the other person. No self sacrificing on the other person’s account. It’s fine if we think it’s too risky for ourselves, but we both get to decide where that point is.”

“Ok”, his soft voice washes over you. This is really happening. Oh god. This is really happening. Your heart wants to float out of your body, but you know the secrecy that comes with it. Your heart beating is trying to override the doubts clouding your mind and- You’ve never felt this way about someone before and Bob is just… perfect. This has to work.

“So what now?”, his question breaks you out of your train of thought.

“I don’t know”, you laugh and shake your head, “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Oh, you mean when you were driving and running though a hurricane?”

“I mean, yes?”

“Yeah, just- don’t do that again”, he tries to jokingly reprimand you. The grip of his hand tells you he’s really not laughing.

“I’ll try not to”, you respond behind a small smirk. He meets your gaze and you almost want to hide. It’s one thing confessing your feelings to him under the influence of adrenaline, it’s another having him just look at you. You’ve never felt so naked before under someone’s eyes. He clears his throat before looking back down at your joined hands.

“I’m a little rusty, but I think what happens now is that I take you out.” You can’t help the blush that rises from your neck to your cheeks. You don’t even remember the last time someone asked you out, let alone someone you really liked.

“Are you asking me on a date, Floyd?”, you ask under an involuntary smirk. He tries to hide his smile underneath the nodding of his head, but it’s no use. You tilt your head to get a better look at his child-like grin before he looks up.

“I think I am, Mitchell.” There’s a whisper of doubt still lingering in your head, much like the fog outside. He must see your smile drop slightly as you wonder aloud.

“Are you sure?” He turns his hand over so he’s holding yours now, and he squeezes as he pulls to make sure you’re listening.

“I wanna do this right, so if you’ll have me I’d really like to take you out. And- I know we’ll have to be careful.. But I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.” You would give him the world if you could. Wrap it up in a nice bow and place it in his hands, but you know what he means. There are going to be limits to how this thing between the two of you plays out.

“Ok”, you whisper.

“Yeah?”, he asks, almost in disbelief. Like you weren’t practically begging him to do something just moments ago.

“Yeah”, you smile, “Let’s go on a date.” And then there’s a moment. Another moment where it’s only the two of you, nothing else exists except for you and Bob. You can’t help it as your eyes drift to where Bob’s teeth pull at his bottom lip out of nerves. It makes you feel bad for doubting him at all, but you would do anything right now to tear his lip from his own torture. Maybe provide some relief of your own. But no- you have to take this slow. Do this right. Like Bob said. It still doesn’t stop the pull you feel for him, though.

But as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, the buzz of your phone from the coffee table rouses you from this moment.

“Oh shit”, you mumble as your dad’s name pops up on the screen. “Umm”, you stall as you try not to panic. Bob’s eyes are already wide as they switch between the phone in your hand and your face. “Don’t make a sound. Ok”, you say with a breath. Braving the unknown you tap the answer button.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?”, you ask as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

“Hey!”, he responds, and you immediately know he has no clue you left. If he did, he would have started this phone call in a much less cheery mood. “Good to know you survived the storm”, he laughs in relief.

“Yeah”, you respond, if only he knew. “Same to you.”

“Listen, it’s still a bit wet out there but it’s slowing down. So as soon as it stops enough for me to get my bike outta here, I’ll head over.” As your father’s speaking, Bob eyes Sylvia out of the corner of his eye, huffing at her lack of attention. He eyes her as a warning, and knowing he’s all talk, she huffs her first bark. You cough in hopes to cover the noise.

“Sorry”, you apologize through another fake cough, “So when do you think that will be?” You watch as Bob chases Sylvia to the back door, herding her outside for the moment.

“Well, my phone is telling me it’s not raining right now but-”, he grunts and you know he’s moving to look out the window, “It’s still going over here at Penny’s. By my guess, I’d say it’ll slow down in an hour, and I’ll be home by then.” Your gaze moves from the window back to where Bob is standing at the back door, waiting for you to be done to let Sylvia back in. Your stomach turns sour when you realize your time with Bob this morning will be cut short.

“Ok, sounds good. I’ll see you then!”, you reply in a happier tone than you’re feeling.

“Alright, see you soon kiddo”, you can still hear him breathing when you tap the red button. He’s always waited until you hang up first, something he’s done since you were a kid. It was either that or the line would get cut short from him running out of time on the carrier. Even then you’d both talk until it stopped. There were the few odd times he’d ask to talk to your mom, and sometimes you downright refused. It was your time with your dad, not hers.

Sylvia’s paws tap on the hardwood as she walks with Bob in tow back to the couch. You scratch her ears as Bob sits again, waiting to hear the verdict of the call.

“My dad’s going to be home soon”, you say as you watch Sylvia wander off. Bob nods, a furrow appearing in his brow as he thinks.

“How soon?”

“Said in the next hour”, you whisper as you lean your side into the couch cushions, getting a better look at Bob’s face. “I should leave before he gets back.”

“What about your car?”. Shit. You completely forgot about your stupid (up until now, loyal) car. Attempting to run both hands down your face in frustration, you stop immediately on your right side as you’re so pleasantly reminded of the bruise painting your cheek. As you flinch, Bob’s hand comes to hold your hurting side, delicately brushing his thumb just below the discoloration.

You can’t help but lean into the touch, your eyes following his arm up to his face where you melt just a little more at his slight frown. You both don’t want for you to leave. But if you keep going with this, even after your date, this is how it’s going to be. Lying, keeping secrets. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but you feel bad implicating Bob in your transgressions. Even now you don’t want to leave the bubble in his living room.

“This is going to be hard”, you whisper in warning as you hold his hand to your cheek. His frown ticks downward just a smidge as he stares back at you.

“I know”, he sighs, “But it’ll be worth it.” This gets you to smile, and in turn Bob mirrors your expression.

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

Sometime while you were still sleeping, Bob had so thoughtfully placed your clothes in the dryer. You try to ignore the fact that he handled your bra and underwear, but all it does is make you laugh internally at the thought. You’re so sure he must have blushed when he realized your clothes were hanging in his bathroom.

You’re both quiet as he leads you to his familiar truck in the garage. But you’re not shying away from him either. The realization of what you have both decided to do is setting in and it’s…exciting. Well, exciting and scary. No different than the feelings you’ve had before. But it’s easier knowing you’re not alone. Especially as the man in reference opens your door before stepping in on his own side.

He gives you a brief smile before taking a deep breath. You do the same as the garage door opens. The sky is clearing and he lets the light come in. Once safely backed out, he takes your hand from its spot in your lap like he’s done it a million times before. And truly, it felt like he had. That smile however is wiped from your face as you round the street and find your car- crushed completely under a toppled over palm tree. Whoever said it never rains in southern California is a fucking liar.

Bob pulls off to the opposite side of the road as the two of you stare in shocked silence. The roof of your car is completely sunken in as the palm leaves sway with the now gentle winds. And all you can do is laugh. Bob looks at you with a raise of his brow, still a very concerned look in his eye.

“Ok, so… I definitely didn’t think the weather was that bad when I was driving last night”, you chortle.

“What-”, he asks now wildly gesturing back to your broken car, “How is this funny?! That could have been you!”

“Ok”, you respond, now without much mirth, “Bob, I am fine. I wasn’t in the car when it fell!” He goes to say something else, but you stop him before he can. “And I wouldn’t be dumb enough to stay in my parked car in the middle of a storm.”

“No, but you did drive and run through one”, he mutters, almost afraid to hear your response. He looks back at the car through a grimace and you know his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. He’s worried, that’s all. “Just- don’t do that again”, he repeats his sentiment from before. You move back to take his hand and give him a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll try not to, I promise.”

Bob so graciously (doesn’t let you leave the truck) offers to inspect your car while you call your insurance company and a tow truck. There’s no missing calls or texts from your dad while you and Bob talk to the tow truck driver, and you frown as your baby is hauled away. No matter what happened in the past ten or so years, that car was always there for you. It housed you, kept you safe, and was a warm place to sleep when you needed it. And now? It was a landing pad for a palm tree.

Your Toyota is carried off into the distance, and you’re taken out of your memories by Bob’s hand over your lower back.

“You ok?”

“Yeah”, you huff, “We should get going.”

Bob finds your hand again in the cab of his truck, and you hold onto it tight. It brings you back to the present and keeps you grounded. Something you’re having a hard time doing when you see your dad dismounting his bike in the open garage.

“Shit”, you whisper. Your dad’s still taking off his helmet he wears once in a blue moon, and you take one last look at Bob. You want nothing more than to keep holding his hand, but at the sight of your dad you loosen your grip and both your hands fall back. “Just agree to everything I say, ok?”

He nods as his breathing picks up and you’re hit with a sudden thought: Can Bob even lie? Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

The two of you hop out of the truck as your dad turns at the sound.

“Hey!”, he greets you with a twist in his features, “What uh- what’s going on? Where’d you go?” He questions as he greets you with a hug. Bob stands a distance away at the end of the driveway and your dad gives him a questioning glance. “Hey Bob…” He waves back with a forced smile. You quickly drag his attention back to you and place your hands on his shoulders.

“So- don’t freak out. But earlier Bob called and said his dog got out and asked if I could keep an eye out for her. Seeing as I wasn’t doing anything and everything had died down, I drove over to help him look for her-” His brows raise and you’re left wondering what his reaction would have been if you were telling him the truth. 

“We found her and everything’s fine. And I just want you to remember that I am completely fine…Great, even.” He lifts his brow asking you to continue, hoping it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to seem.

“My car died on the way over, and when we went back to jumpstart it…”, you pull your phone out and show him the pictures you took for the insurance company and he stops in his tracks. He almost scolds you as he releases your name in a breath. You give him a playful grimace as he looks over you in astonishment. Bob clears his throat from behind you as your dad continues to swipe through the pictures.

“Sir- I just want to say I did not ask her to come over, she did that of her own volition. But seeing as it’s my fault she was out in the first place, I am more than happy to give her rides to work while she doesn’t have a car. You know-”, he coughs again, “Since you usually have to stay later at work and…yeah”, he mutters in the end. Wow. Facing Bob, you give him the tiniest of smirks, impressed with his calmness. He tries to shake off his own smile while staring down at his shoes.

“I mean, that’s very nice of you, Bob”, your dad responds while rubbing a hand over his forehead. “But I think I should make her ride with me as punishment.”

“What?”, you whip your head around at your dad shaking his head. “Punishment? Might I remind you that I’m not some dumb teenager you can just ground whenever you want?”

“Yeah, well when you make decisions like a dumb teenager, that’s how you’re gonna get treated.” Your jaw drops at your dad’s stoic expression.

“Sir-”, Bob interrupts again, “I just- I feel responsible. She wouldn’t have been out there if it weren’t for me. Plus you are on my way to and from base. It’s no big deal, really.” Turning your head back to your father, you await his response. Wait, why are you even waiting for what he says? You’re a goddamn adult.

“Ok, I don’t need your permission. I pay my own bills and I refuse to be punished as a grown woman.” You turn back to Bob and decide to ignore your dad for the time being.

“I’ll see you Monday morning?”, you ask. Obviously not wanting to get in the middle of your argument he nods his head and you leave it at that. “Thanks again, Bob”.

“Anytime”, he responds and you see his lips twitch in the shadow of a smile. He shuts it down as he glances behind you to your dad, and you usher him inside as to let Bob leave in a quick getaway. Meaning, without an interrogation from your dad.

You huff as your dad closes the garage door behind you and you try to head to your room. Key word: try.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you”, he barks to grab your attention. With a scoff you turn around at the bottom of the stairs. You’re reminded of how many times this has happened within the past few months. You were never yelled at or punished by him as a teenager, mostly because you did nothing to warrant that kind of action. But right now he’s making you feel like a child.

“What the hell were you thinking, huh?” You sigh as he places an exasperated hand on his hip.

“Couldn’t tell you if I’m being honest, but I am fine. I wasn’t even in my car when it happened.”

“Yeah, but you could have been.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t. Why is this such a big deal?”

“It’s not-”, he cuts off his raised voice and takes in a breath, returning with a much softer version, “It’s not just your car. It’s that if we didn’t live under the same roof I wouldn’t even know about this.”

“That’s not true”, you argue while he gives you a pointed look. “Ok”, you relent, “maybe I wouldn’t have told you, but that’s only because I’m fine! When there’s something to worry about I’ll let you know.”

“That’s the thing”, he points at you, “You don’t though. You don’t tell me until it gets to a breaking point. Or you don’t even tell me at all.” Ouch. He raises his eyebrows as if saying ‘the truth hurts’. With a sigh, you give in.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You of all people should know how hard it is to talk about your feelings, though.”

“I haven’t been very accessible in the past and I apologize for that. But we need to take advantage of the time we have now. I want you to come talk to me about anything. The good and the bad.”

“What, do you want like daily reports or something?”, you screw your brow up in confusion.

“No”, he laughs, “But I think we should have check-ins every once in a while. Every fortnight, how about that?”

“I think you’re the only person I know to use that word, but yeah. We can have fortnightly check-ins”, you smile.

“Fine, twice a month. Is that better?” He laughs with you, but you’re still reminded of the gravity of the conversation. You’ve been able to lie to your dad for the better part of- hell your whole life. But this thing with Bob is going to make things a little more complicated.

“In all seriousness I’m sorry for scaring you.” “I’m just glad you’re ok”, he crosses over and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“I really am”, you sigh. “Bob made sure I was.”

Taglist:

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@dumblani

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 1

(Complete, link for the second part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name) -> most of these warnings apply to the second part

Word count: 1.3 K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

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PART 1

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve called but apparently the handyman had just arrived, if the heavy rumble of tires on gravel was anything to go by. So you made your way onto your porch, because honestly it didn’t make any difference if you’d wait in- or outside.

The heat had been crawling into your house since sunrise and now it was nearly more stifling inside, than out on your shaded porch. And at least here the stone beneath your bare feet was somewhat cooling.

You squinted at the huge red pickup truck now parked not far from your house.

Whoever was still seated inside was listening to music, clearly above a healthy decibel level, because you could hear it blasting even from where you stood quite a distance away.

At that exact moment the door swung open and you heard just a snippet of the song still playing, “Use my index, I can use my thumb.

Even use my pinky, it'll make you come. Close your eyes, it'll happen real fast

I just got you off with a fingerblast…”.Before you could hear more the door of the truck shut loudly. The sudden noise almost startling you.

Shaking your head you tried to compose yourself after overhearing what must have been a most charming song. You took a step forward, hell bent on pretending you hadn’t heard anything. Only now you’d noticed the mammoth of a man that had existed the truck.

Chiding yourself on how you hadn’t noticed him before.

You wrote it off as shock, because how else could you not have noticed the biggest fricking man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Said man raised his left hand in greeting, while pushing his sunglasses up on his shaved head with the other. He wore a red T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Realizing you stared way too long at the handsome stranger without reciprocating his greeting, you quickly waved back; albeit a bit too late, as he had already turned his back to you.

Fortunately for you, he took his sweet time getting to his toolbox or whatever. Giving you the perfect opportunity to stare some more and that you did.

Good god, how did his shirt not rip when he moved? All that muscle had you salivating.

As he turned towards you, with his toolbox in hand, you couldn’t help but notice the ominous bulge in his shorts.

And then one thought lead to another, having you think about, how something entirely different would most certainly rip, upon his movement. That image had you clenching and swallowing thickly.

“Hey, I take it, you’re hav’n problems with your AC?” he drawled in a rough southern accent. You didn’t trust your voice, lest only a squeak would leave you, so you shook your head yes.

“Alright then, may I come ‘n?” He continued, an amused expression on his face, after you didn’t make a move to let him past you or into your house.

Finally you found your voice again, “Mmh yes, please do come…in,” you finished awkwardly, wanting to hit yourself for behaving like a middle schooler with a major crush.

It didn’t seem to bother him though, he simply chuckled deeply and entered your living room. As he walked by, you caught a whiff of his colon along with what must be his own natural musk, making you swoon on the spot. Damn it, he even smelled fucking fantastic.

From inside he called, “The name ‘s Syverson by the way, if you were wonderin’. But everyone calls me Sy anyway.”

Taking a second to draw a deep breath to calm your nerves and more accurately calm your ovaries, you headed in, after him.

He was standing in the middle of your living room, toolbox standing on your little coffee table, taking in your interior. Shaking your head, as if you could rid yourself of any indecent thoughts, you studied him once more.

Sy was big in every way possible, from his height, to his built and presence. Easily taking over your normally at least middle sized living room, making it seem shrunken.

This time you were a little bit more prepared when his sparkling blue eyes landed on you. Smiling you replied, “I’m y/n. Thank you for being here so quickly. The AC is right over there.” With a wave of your hand, you gestured in the direction of your adjacent kitchen, where the damned thing was let into the wall. He picked up the toolbox once more, before he followed closely behind.

As you lead the way into the kitchen, you could feel him staring at you hungrily, making you shiver from anticipation alone.

Sy swallowed thickly as the white dress you wore, showed even more of your pretty legs, with every bouncy step you took. Once in the kitchen you pointed up, at the opened AC. “I don’t know what seems to be the problem, normally if I do this…” you tried reaching the green button, even going as far as getting on your tiptoes, to show him, what normally did the trick.

As if hypnotized, he kept staring at the hem of your dress continuing to ride up, now almost getting a glimpse of your perfectly white panties. Fuck it, he thought as he drew impossibly closer, putting the toolbox on the kitchen counter in one swift movement.

You squeaked in response, when you felt his broad chest collide with your back. Before you could lose your balance, a beefy arm pulled you back by your midsection and against his sturdy body. A hot breath tickled your ear as he growled, “Darlin’ that dress of yours, might be a tad short for what you had in mind.”

His deep, lust filled voice made you reckless so you purred right back,” Mmmh I think it’s quite perfect for what I had in mind, no?” To emphasize your point, you pushed your rear purposefully against his groin, making him growl some more. “Careful there sweetheart, once the beast is awakened, it got a hankering…and…for one thing only.” You could undoubtedly hear his cocky grin. So you playfully replied, “Oh no, we certainly don’t want that now, do we? You know what they say, about sleeping dogs …”

Following your teasing you grabbed his arm and swiftly pulled it away to be able to slip from his grasp. Striding over to the door, making sure to sway your hips, all the while stifling your giggles. When you turned around, lightly leaning against the doorway, Sy still stood unmoving, glaring at you with dilated pupils. He was sure he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted to have you.

One more push and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You bit the insides of your cheeks, trying to conceal the gleeful smile forming on your lips. Deliberately slow you blinked up at him, readying yourself for what you were about to do next, “Catch me if you can…” You didn’t wait for his reaction, you just bolted through the doorway and straight up the stairs.

PART 2

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[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand Part 7

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Pregnant! Reader

Warnings: Medical drama, Fluff,

A/N: Hi loves, sorry for taking so long, i just moved into a new house and its been a lot. And honestly my mental health is trash. This part was also really hard to write for me because I had this happen to me. And i didnt realize how triggering it would be to write about it but the best way to get through the trauma is to write about it, right? maybe? no? well, anyways sorry if it sucks. i'll do better next time.

Word count: 1833...

New to the series? Catch up here: Part 6,

Your head pounded as you laid across the soft couch, each throb timed perfectly with the beating of your heart. There was no cuteness in pregnancy, not in your eyes at least. The glow that most women talked about was nothing more than a sheen of sweat that collected on your brow from your every move. There was a tiny human playing soccer with your organs, your ribcage the goal. They kicked wildly at the space below your ribs, the feeling enough to make you want to throw up. 

The past few days had been rough, you had a headache from hell and you just felt drained. Simon was concerned but you had chalked it up to the lingering cold you had going on. But now as you lay on the couch your stomach rolling with each passing moment you aren't so sure. Simon was on base today, having to complete some paperwork. He had woken you this morning, his lips peppering your face with soft kisses. 

He had tried to stay home but you had insisted he go, that you would be fine you would call if you needed him. Since he had left a few hours ago he had called you a few times, and you had reassured him each time that you were okay, you were just going to rest on the couch until he got home. You weren’t sure how long had passed since Simon had last called, but you had started to gradually feel worse. You push yourself up onto your elbows, and the world begins to spin around you. A wave of dizziness, crashing into you, as you blindly reach for your phone. 

You swallow trying to will yourself not to throw up. It takes you a few moments to find Simon's name in the phone, and putting it on speaker. It rings longer than normal but right before it goes to voicemail his panicked voice answers. “Hello? Y/n? What's wrong?”

“Simon… I… I don't feel good,” your voice shakes as you struggle to keep the phone in your hand. 

“Bloody hell, It’s alright Love, stay on the phone with me, i’m on my way,” there’s shuffling and the sound of boots hitting the floor in the background. “You’ll be okay, what's going on?”

“I have a headache… I'm nauseous, and I just don't feel good at all, I think something is really wrong,” you mumble, swaying slightly as you sit on the couch. 

“Okay, Love, do you have any swelling in your hands or feet?” The sound of Simon's truck revving filters through the phone. 

“Yeah a little,” You lean forward to the best of your ability and press on the top of your foot watching as your finger makes a light indent in the skin.

“Fuck..” Simon curses under his breath, “Love, go put your coat on, I’ll be there in a moment. Okay? We’re gonna go to the hospital.” 

“Simon?” you whisper, your voice shaking as you push yourself to stand, bracing yourself on the couch.

“Yeah love?”

“I’m scared…” you whisper, squeezing your eyes closed as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. 

“I know, I'm pulling up now okay, I'm gonna hang up okay? I just parked the truck, I'm coming to get you.” Simon's voice cuts off as the line goes dead. You shuffle over to the coat rack and start to pull on your coat. Hot tears roll down your cheeks as you hold the coat closed around your stomach. A sharp pain under your ribs causing you to gasp, and brace your hands on the kitchen counter. 

The sound of heavy boots stops outside the door as Simon pushes into the apartment. He’s still wearing all his gear, his tight black t-shirt, his cargo pants and skull mask on. His brown eyes are full of concern as he walks towards you, his large hands resting on your hips. 

“C’mon Love lets get you checked out,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. Simon’s arms carefully pull you into him, resting your back against his chest as he guides you from the apartment and down to the car. Your mind feels cloudy and far away as Simon secures you into the truck. His hands brushing along your stomach as he fastens your seatbelt. You close your eyes focusing on the revving of the engine as Simon weaves the large black truck in and out of traffic. It was only moments later that it came to a screeching halt outside the A&E doors. He barely had the truck in park before he was jumping out and scooping you up in his arms. He cradles you against his chest as he bursts through the sliding glass doors.

“I need some help!” his voice is loud against your ear. The vibrations of it through his chest causing you to groan in pain. Each movement felt like it was sucking the soul out of you. Every breath hurt and you just wanted to sleep, but soon there were nurses and doctors swarming you. Each of them throws questions towards you, only to have Simon reply for you. 

“How far along is she?” a doctor asks as she shines a bright light in your eyes. 

“28 Weeks,” Simon's voice is laced with panic.

“Okay, let's get her up to Labor and Delivery people let's go! Someone call the NICU unit!” the on-call emergency room doctor calls out. It was like a swarm of bees, suddenly everyone was doing something. Someone was poking your arm with an IV while another was taking your blood pressure. You weren't sure whose hands belonged to who or what was going on. But after a few moments there was too much going on for your brain to process, and you passed out.

~~~~~

The beeping of the monitors was oddly familiar to you, like when you woke up after being caught in the stairwell after the apartment building you were living in caught fire. But this time there was an icy chill that ran down your spine when you heard it. The memories of what happened come flooding back.

Calling Simon, him rushing home, being rushed to A&E, the doctors concerned voice. The overwhelming sense of panic, and then nothing. You slowly pry our eyes open, fighting against the heaviness. The first thing you see is Simon's blonde hair, the wild strands sticking up at odd angles as it rests against the light blue hospital blanket. Your hand is trapped under his head. His cheek pressed firmly into the back of it. You wiggle your fingers slightly and he stirs. His head lifting, brown eyes blinking slowly as he came around. 

“Y/N?” He asks softly, his eyes meeting yours.

“Hi,” you croak softly, your throat dry and a little sore. 

“Oh god, baby, you scared me so much,” Simon whispers, his hands coming to cup your cheeks. He was still wearing his gear, minus his mask and vest, his black shirt slightly wrinkled. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your right hand moving reflexively to rest on your stomach. You pause, eyes widening as the once firm bump is now squishy and numb. The world seems to stop spinning, time slowing. Your heart wants to stop beating in your chest but it won't listen. 

 “N-No.” Your voice cracks, eyes welling with tears and a look of confusion crosses Simon's face before he looks at your right hand. 

“Oh! No, love, shhh stop it’s okay. The baby is okay.” He rushes out, grabbing your left hand in his. His face is full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you slightly relax. After a moment you let out a shaky breath.

“What happened?” You whisper, looking up at him, his hand still clutched tightly around yours.

“You had PreEclampsia, but a severe case of it called HELLP syndrome. I’m not entirely sure what it means but they said the only way to save your life was to deliver the baby. So they performed an emergency C-Section and had to give you a blood transfusion. The baby is okay, they’re in the NICU. I haven't been able to see them yet, but a nurse came about an hour ago and said that they were fighting like crazy and we should be able to see them soon.” He explains, his brown eyes welling with tears. 

His voice is rough and strained, “I thought I was gonna lose you both.”

Hot tears well in your eyes as he admits his fear. A man as big and strong as Simon looked so small at that moment. He looked like a lost child who couldn't find home. The brave soldier who willingly ran into warzones and fought people with his bare hands had never looked so helpless. It was in this rare moment that you got to see the person behind the hardened soldier. The man who truly thought he was going to lose the person he cared about, and his child. Your heart ached for him, you wished you could take the worry and pain he had felt away but you couldn't. 

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, he must've been so scared, felt so hopeless. He was usually able to control some aspect of the situations he was in. He could fight his way out of the worst scenarios, he could plan an escape, and he was always prepared for things if they went south. But he wasn't able to fix you, he had been completely helpless as Doctors worked to save not only your life but that of his unborn child. 

“Oh baby, don't cry,” Simon's thumb strokes the skin under your cheek as he wipes away your tears. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper, voice tight.

“It's not your fault, i’m just glad you're both okay.” He whispers, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your cheek.

“Tell me about the baby,” you blink away the rest of the tears, taking a steadying breath.

“It’s a girl, she weighs 1lb 2oz, and she's so small i don't even think she’d fill my entire palm. They aren't sure entirely what her future looks like, but the nurse that came in to check on you said she was a fighter, and she felt really good about her outcome.” He smiles, his brown eyes filled with pride as he talks about his daughter.

A daughter.

You had a daughter now.

The thought alone was crazy to you, you had been so sure the entire time it was a boy. You had a gut feeling but you were wrong, and you weren’t unhappy about it. You didn't care either way, the only thing you cared about was that they were okay.  That they would pull through everything and you would get to bring them home eventually. 

There's a soft knock on the door and a nurse with red hair pokes her head in. 

“Hi, do you two wanna go meet your daughter?”

Next Part: Part 8

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18, @itsmytimetoodream @humanities-cutest @ajrfanz @jggykhug09090 @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @ashreblogsnow

[danaduchy]

all texts from Kerry

Found Henry Holy shit, Henry's on board. Way to go! Check outta rehab of his own free will… thru the window, hehe. Some nurse tried to stop us - at first I thought she wanted an autograph, but she didnt even recognize me. Tell you the rest later How's it going with Nancy? S'all under control That's what I like to hear

Samurai's back together What about Johnny? He amped for this gig or meh? * As amped as he's ever been. Must be important to him cuz otherwise I wouldnt be forced to take this stupid pseudoendotrizine * Hard to say. You know how he is Well I'm amped as fuck, if anyone's wonderin. It'll be fuckin shimra - just gotta remember not to get too wasted before. Old habits die hard, haha

Waiting for you Kerry? Where are you? On the way. Chill. Gotta change

What's up, V? Too bad you split so quick after the concert - we didn't even get a chance to chat I barely know anything about you, except you've got a shit-ton goin on inside You're the one who left early That so? Hm, maybe. Anyway, it was fuckin nova, wasn't it? Shoulda recorded it for you cause you didn't catch anything thru Johnny

Hey! Heey. So I cant stop thinkin about our little adventure. FUCKIN AWESOME. Thats how you live life. ON THE EDGE :> * Who doesnt like explosions and races right? :) Lemme know if the rest of your plan worked out Sure, I'll text or call ;) If I can't convince you to blow up anythin else, then at least we can go for a drink. Take care! * Egh, day just like any other. Hope it helped you tho Pff, sound more nonchalant than a karaoke star from kabuki ;) I'll be in touch

Coffee at Caliente Know what? I'm glad we got a chance to talk over coffee. You're a straight shooter, V. Nothing like the ass-kissers I'm usually surrounded by. It's good we did what we did, right? Blowing that van to bits? Cuz I been thinking… * To be honest, got no clue if anything good will come of it. I agreed cuz you paid me. Honest as ever, huh? Means I was right about you. Appreciate that, V. I really do. Don't ever change. * It was the right thing to do. And you've got nitro running through your veins. Don't you ever let yourself think otherwise! Nitro in my veins? Yeah, and a fuse sticking out of my ass. Least that's what I felt back then. Was worth it, though - slept like a fucking baby for the first time in ages. Talk to you later. Thanks again!

Reward Hey, forgot to send the eddies before, but should hit your account any sec. PREEM WORK :>

Where are you? Well, where are you? At this rate I'm gonna be a fuckin skeleton by the time you get here.. Move your ass or forget about this whole thing Dunno where you are or what you're up to, but I'm a busy fuckin man. Forget about it - don't have time for this shit Srsly, V? Ditched me with the badges and split? Shitty move. We're fuckin THROUGH Where the fuck are you? Grrr doesnt matter. I'm checkin out, goin home. Call ya if somethin comes up

answer yr phone!!! Hey, V. Got a job for you. Corner of Grey and Mallagra. Be there first thing in the morning, we'll talk it over. I'm fucking livid, V! Those Us Cracks bitches clearly didn't get the hint. Instead of cancelling after we blew up their truck, they just moved their show to another date! Meet me at Riot ASAP. We'll deal with them differently this time. The Us Skanks still wanna fuck me over and record the cover, V! On top of that, their lawyers won't stop yappin'. We really need to talk. I'm at Dark Matter right now. Come 'round the back, the bouncers will let you in. It's easier to reach my dead grandma than you, V! Anyway, Us Cracks are done, for real this time. We should celebrate! Stop by Dark Matter. Use the back entrance.

What's up? Hey, hows it going? Ownin the streets of NC? * More like tryna survive. Let's just say the city and I are even Sweet. What's that? What's up with me? Nice of you to ask. Hammerin out some sick tunes. Ok, more like trying to hammer out. Keep your fingers crossed * Hey hey, you could say that. Lotta stuffs been happenin - even without you! :O Yeah yeah, whatever! I'm stringin together some fresh tunes… OK, more like thinking about some fresh tunes. Keep your fingers crossed

Missed holocall! V! Whatever you're doing right now - drop it and come see me at the Marina. Pier four.

Scratch that! Spoke too soon Slight change of plans - waitin on an important delivery and the fuckin gonk's late. Be at the marina at 7pm!

Kova-chek this out :D Kovachek went ballistic when he found out the yacht went up in smoke! Even went back on those pills that turn him into you know, whatever the opposite of a cyberpsycho is. More goo than a man haha this is greaaaaat! * Ouch. Musta sunk a lotta eddies into that float! :P Speakin of dickheads tho - turns out he stashed a ton of drugs on board! Like, two yachts' worth. And we sent aaaall of that to the bottom of the sea :D Bay's full of fish high off their fins now! * Literally zero living organisms in that bay, Ker. Yeah duh they they took their happy fishy asses down to the spaceport and went to la la land. Anyway tellin ya whenever I'm down, I think about our seaventure and it's like insta good feels :* * Wow. What now? Feel like blowing more of his shit up. Think he's got a luxury crib somewhere in the Rockies… Something to think about… :P FUCK NO! I GOT IT! We make a Kovachek voodoo doll! Can't wait to stab that prick right in the dick :D * I really don't care about that dick, Kerry. Fine OK. As long as you care about MY dick, that is :P

Hey :* Heeey, how's it hanging? Everything all right? I'll just come right out and say it - I miss you. Just a little bit though ;) You coming by anytime soon? * Miss you too, if you can believe that. See? We're tuned to the same frequency. I'll try to swing by sometime. Preem. I'll be waiting! * Hey! Well well, look who's suddenly spilling their guts out :P Dunno when I can drop by though :/ Sad face :( But fine - I know the world doesn't revolve around me. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Take care! * Been thinking about you… Thinking about you too. You're like some chorus to this incredible song that's been stuck in my head lately. On loop :) * What's new? Still conquering the world with music? Planning to! :) don't really know if there's anything left to conquer though. You're already mine, right? (I know, I knooooow, it's cringe. But I couldn't hold myself back!) Latest song I wrote - read it and weep. Wrote it while thinking of you: "Where you whisper, open up your heart / Reveal the place where I once had a heart" Whaddaya think? * I like it. It's gentle, but still has a bite. And knowing you, probably has multiple meanings ;) Exactly! I knew you'd get it :*** * Hmm, you were thinking about me when you wrote that? Dunno if that's good or bad :< it's up to you - that's the whole point! :* * Got a bunch of things on my plate right now. Times are tough. Oh, OK, cool. Do what you gotta do. We'll talk later, no prob.

Serious business Check it out, V. Got this email from a lifelong fan. It's serious. Gotta write her back. Dear Mr. Eurodyne, the day we both have been waiting for is finally upon us! I got rid of my husband, my house and all the other remnants of my former life. Now, I'm truly ready to give you my heart and all my other organs, should you desire them. You are the Sun and I am the Moon - I live to bask in your radiant brilliance. I love you, Mr. Eurodyne, and eagerly anticipate the time we'll finally be together. We will meet soon - I'm sure you know exactly where." She also sent me a gift card to a junk shop in Providence, wherever the fuck that is. It's clear she's nuts, just not sure if it's the murder-suicide variety. She writes me same day every year, like clockwork. What if she dissolved her man in a vat of acid, burned down her house and now she's sharpening her sickle cuz I'm next!? What are we gonna do, V??? * You really worried about her? More importantly: Kerry Eurodyne actually reads fan mail? Adorable. Yeah, yeah, Kovachek usually deals with all that shit. Even signs photos and sends them to the fans. But the fucker always forwards stuff from this crazy broad. Gets his rocks off fuckin with my blood pressure. Anyway, thought you might get a kick out if it. Seriously though, I should probably do something. Don't want her to knock on my bedroom door a year from now. * What, your first psycho groupie? Unbelievable :D Don't worry about it. We'll deal with her. Fuckin preem. What should I do, V? Ideas?? * Call the Providence PD. Let them scare her off? Or better yet, put her in a straitjacket? Boooring! 'Sides, cops mean lawyers and I hate dealing with them even more than I hate Kovachek's guts. No worries, I'll think of something else.You're in charge here. * Why not have a bit of fun? Write her back, give her Kovachek's address and say you'll be waiting for her there exactly one year from now :P Hahahaha you beautiful fucking GENIUS! Think I'll do exactly that. He'll shit himself when he sees her! We'll set up a camera and film it, too. Can't wait!Not worth your time. * She probably thinks she's pregnant with Lizzy Wizzy's love child, too. Check if the store has a netpage, see if they ship to NC and get yourself something nice! Smart! I'll see if they have anything worth my while. Get myself a studded choker. Or one of them Russian stacky doll-in-a-doll-in-a-doll things. Thanks, V! Later

Truth or Dare! I'm boooooooored, V. Let's play Truth or Dare! :D * Really don't have time for this, Ker. Cmon, don't be like that. TRUTH or DARE??? * Fuck it. Dare. OK, here it goes. Hope I got your full attention! OKOK here's your dare: "Survive one year with a rockstar" :D * Cheeky ;) Guess I can give it a try ;) * Don't know if I have time for that, Kerry. * Truth! Got nothing to hide. Here it goes: "After a little good morning sex, what I really want is…" * Coffee and cigarettes. Glass of whiskey if I need a little hair of the dog…

* Scrambled eggs. Clearly.

Puzzle by yrs truly V! Made one of them picture riddles for you, V! Wanna see it? :D Fuck yeah you do! Heeeere goes! …69 <3 * Not right now, Kerry. Got some other things on my mind… No worries. Listen, we all have days like this. Thinking of you here with my little puzzle, hope that helps :* * Really, Ker? Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Yeah, yeah, just warming up! Okay, get ready for round two! |$| >< #o.O# ;( * Kerry slapped the shit out of Kovachek! * Rockstars are the best spankers! Sorry, all you get is a kiss :* * My man is shit at puzzles :* You got it, you shrewd beast :D Congrats! Your reward - a Kerry Eurodyne sextape! Now all that's left is to shoot it :P I'll send you something sweet <3

Personality test You're not gonna believe this, V. I took one of those personality tests and apparently, I'm a NARCISSIST! Can you believe that shit?? * You, a narcissist? That can't be right. I know, right? Good thing you're smart about these things. You're so sweet, babe :* * Might be some truth to it if I'm REAL honest :) You do… tend to be an arrogant snob. Not to mention your ego's the size of a small planet :* Haha took the test again and now it says I'm a sociopath! Told you it's all bullshit! Told you I'm not a narcissist! Honestly you should listen to me, I'm smarter than whatever "scientist" came up with this shit!

Ah V fuuuck worlds biggest hangover, shakes and willies. Need a kind soul to tell me I'll come out the other side OK :-/ my age be damned ;-| * Textin ya from Dtown, 'hood's the very embodiment of shakes and willies * Got a gig, mebbe not worlds biggest but mondo anyway. This is me needin assurance I'll come out the other end in 1 piece Ever in the thick of shit, eh? It's where your&Johnny's minds meet, both uber vibe on it. JS better be fuckin happy - is he? * Need better candy to pop at raves, physio venting helps, mutes nerves, you'll stride strong, won't bother us workin peeps! Srsly V - soundin like you need time off, ad hoc vacay. U know, throw the monkey off your back, dunno, air your skull sponge. * Could be, just not now Handlin ginormous gig in Dogtown. Elbow deep in it, serious as a heart attack. * That an invite….? ;> Dunno, maybe…? My door's wiiiiiiide open, always ;> * Got this biz I gotta tend to first, one way or another… Oh ok mystery man - you do you. gotta say, findin this diss kinda titillating. Is it the masochist in me? tension's… ooooh, got my mouth watering. * Right, I know. One of these days - surprise! You'll see, be at your front door. Only if I'm home, obvi. You're textin a raucous, go-get-'em busy man… * OOO-K. So get lost, find a release. * Hmm, you're temptin me to call. Will do, given time. Do do do, plz. I'll be waitin <3

OK then I'll play support - we're all gonna all right, better'n all right - golden Which is DEF NOT me now - after a fuckin weird-ass 48 hrs, and this is me talkin…! just straaange… like unbelievably so Ahem, got stories to tell, solid gold * well, yeah, might find it a lil hard to believe… welp, hope you're whole and fine and happy. If you are, suck it. Dissin somebody like this - not nova, choom, supra unpreem * OK spill So dig this - meet-up w the enemy, competing publishing bitchez. Top dogz, bubbly flowin, rails vanishing up noses - all in back of a stretch cuz they out to impress my ass with their asses. Kinda sad, really. Gotta give 'em an e for effort, tho - they say: choom, got a mountain o' eddies for ya. N I say, really - where from? N they say, our mountain's a volcano, it'll spew scratch like lava… Hm i say, how's that? N they say, Zetatech product placement - next tour, choom so I says let's go - Zetatech now! they practically jizz. Zetatech HQ I get out, drop my pants and moon eveybody lookin out the windows of the building while I give the bitchez in the limo the finger at the same time. N i called Delamain.\nDel and me, we rollin, talkin anti-iperialism - any sense in it given the state of the world? Know what? we actually come to a conclusion - that nuthin makes sense anymore. So we go on rollin, and go on talkin and drinnk myself into grief. 18 hours later Del dropped me by my crib. He wished me GOOD LUCK IN THIS WORLD. choom was deep depressed, so much so he gave me a discount * Could've happened to Kerry and Kerry alone, that Plain to see, admit it, I just might be the king of NC's nightlife * vive le roi! and may the consort bask in his light ;> xoxo * hm, yeah, no titles more important than that… BETTER FUCKIN BELIEVE IT. * Oooh could go for a convo about life's futility. But DT takes no prisoners forgives no mistakes - need to focus. salty! somebody's in a m0000d * well, just don't see your parties and hangovers as overly important to me just now, if ever * yeah, sorry, just this gig, shitstorm, tense, lots to handle OK I get it, all crystal. Need a lil cheerin up or just leave you the fuck alone? * may be better off just leavin me alone, I'll ping you later, OK? say no more, luv ya and dreamin daily about your sweet tush <3 Eurodyne out * cheerin up, plz :) OK catch: How ya get a bass player to have that gleam in his eye? Shine a flashlight in his ear. That help any? * yup, did wonders :D thx raise you on the holo later, 'kay? * hm, not great, but I won't hold it against you. cute of you to try ok, so here's somethin to keep you warm at night in the meantime, you sweet precious thing <3

You doing anything? Yo, why haven't you shot me a message or nothin? I'm sitting over here like a dumbass waitin for my phone to start buzzin… * Sorry, Ker! You know how it is, life and shit… I know I know, didn't mean to be a total prick * I was just about to text you! Uh huh… suuuure… * You coulda shot me one too, y'know :P The fuck do you think I'm doin right now?!? So listen, how busy are ya? Gotta admit, I'm gettin the itch real bad. Like, a good itch, to see you I mean. * Sounds great! My megabuilding pad maybe? A megabuilding, huh? I mean, sure, guess that'll work… * Then I'll be waitin for ya at my Northside apartment :) Preem. Then I'll get there when I get there. * Let's meet up in Japantown. Just a hop and a skip for you ;) Perfect! * Can you drive over to the Glen? Love to see you too <3 I can do whatever the fuck I want. * Whaddaya say to a little date downtown? My Corpo Plaza place? Ohhh baby, my ass is already out the door! * I'm free! Wanna swing by Dogtown? You outta your mind? No fucking way! Either we meet in NC proper or I ain't goin out. Don't forget to tidy up a bit, yeah? ;)

Goooood morning, Night City! And you, V! Listen, I'm bored outta my mind. Wanna be bored together at least? You asleep? :P Oh, what's that? You want me to come over? Sure! You're one hot piece of ass, you know that right? You were in my dream last night. A good one. Don't worry, I ain't mad at dream V or nothin - in fact I wanna meet up! I hit a creative block, need some inspiration. I need you. I'm coming over. * Sounds good :) Megabuilding apartment then. Hope you remember which one's mine! On my way! * Genius idea from a genius himself. I'll be waitin for ya in Northside <3 Guess this means I have to change outta my bathrobe. The sacrifices we make! * Japantown. Now. :P Preem! Callin a Delamain right now! * Missed you too. Come to the Glen :) * Sounds like it's time for a trip downtown. My Corpo Plaza pad to be exact * Swing by Dogtown, I'll show you my fixer-upper :P Over my cold, dead, bullet-riddled body! The fuck you even doing there?! Get back to civilization, V! * haha XD so, right now's not good, but don't worry - I'll be thinkin of ya ;) Oh so that's how you wanna play this… nah, just messin, V. wink, wink. I'll catch ya another time!

I like you, V. Thought I owed you a little reminder of that. And hey, not to impose or nothin, but if you wanna spend some more time together, don't be such a coward about it, y'know? Hit me up!! * I like you too, Kerry. I'll let ya know :) Ain't we an adorable fuckin pair of sweethearts! Ha! * No imposing. I'd love to see you again soon too ;) Careful with those boundaries now, V. Let em down too far and I might just move right in! * Course! Soon as I find some time, you'll be the first to know! You honor me, sir! Hang tough out there, V. And remember - don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Hey, Ker! Life's been feelin a lil empty without ya… wanna meet up? So, wanna see me again? Fuck yeah! Your place ok? Heeey! I do, I do! Just… can't right now. Schedule's crammed. But I'll be in touch real soon!

I fucking love surprises! Yo, V, this is a nice ride! Seems like whenever you're on my mind all I can think about is rides ;) * Yeah I know ;) * I love surprising you :) As crazy as my life is, without you it'd be boring as hell <3 Thanks for the flowers! Thank christ they're artificial cuz I'm allergic to pollen. Sneezing, goopy eyes, the whole fuckin thing. Also… "Feedback"? What? Did we hook up at one of my concerts? Honestly I can't remember. * Totally. Speaker feedback fused our audio systems somehow. Made the sex interesting at least. Whaaa, well whatever, I don't need the whole sciency mumbo jumbo :D * You kiddin? How could you forget! Man, what the fuck was I on that night…

Won't see me for a while Gonna need to vanish for a while maybe a month or so. Hope you didn't have any romantic escapades planned and all set up :P Nooo :( Who'm I gonna take to the N54 rave then? :((( * Shiiiit mean to say I'm gonna miss an N54 party? Wanted to surprise you… Real fucking shame :/ I know ;( We'll crash multiple raves when I'm back in town tho :) Promise! * Take someone else feel free but just this once. Long as you promise - no hand holdin' no indecent stuff no INTIMACY mental neither :P Oh please faithful's my middle name :* Fuck really wish you could make it Make it up to you 100%

Long time no see :] There's this merc I know and haven't seen for a while… oh yeah it's you! :D C'mon pick up gotta tell you how wasted me and Slavoy McAllister got at this N54 rave xD Think we might've burnt down half the studio… by accident ofc XDD Hey, V? Pick up, choom Still can't top you 'n' me as a wrecking crew ;) Fuck, you ok? Pick up dammit not funny V 13 missed calls from: Kerry Eurodyne

You ghosting me? Fuck, pick up! Really?! Can't even bother to send ONE word?! Just gonna pretend like nothin happened, huh? COWARD

[helloalycia]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: after Jackie humiliates you at a school party, you realise that she'll only ever see you as a kid and nothing more.

warning/s: mentions of cheating and underage drinking.

author's note: here’s part 2! glad you’re all liking it, this one was fun to write haha 🥰

I was supposed to be getting over Jackie, but it was impossible. Even when I was reminded that she was Jeff's girlfriend, I still couldn't seem to move on.

One time after a Yellowjackets game, Jeff and I were going on the pitch to congratulate her for leading her team to victory, and then she was reminding him to pick her up later for the after party and that was my cue to leave, but she asked me if I wanted to come.

"Oh, erm...," I started to answer, not really sure if I even wanted to go, but the look Jeff was giving me over Jackie's shoulder was answer enough. "It's not really my scene."

Jackie tried not to laugh as she studied me curiously. "You're in a band but you don't like parties?"

I smiled awkwardly. "A paradox, I'm aware."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully, before looking back to Jeff. "Guess it's just us."

"What a shame," he said sarcastically, before pulling her close, and they began to kiss and I tried not to throw up as I left them to it.

Six months of dating and I still wasn't used to it. I prayed and prayed I could be put off, trying to find a new girl to hyper-fixate on, at least long enough for me to get over Jackie, but it never seemed to work.

Another time, I was at home practicing with the band in the garage when I saw Jackie out front, getting out of Jeff's truck with him. I recalled my mum saying she was coming over today, but didn't really remember until now. It didn't matter anyway because I found myself subtly checking her out as she walked across the front pathway with him, listening intently to whatever he was saying. It couldn't have been very interesting – I loved my brother, but he could drone on sometimes – but she was eating it up anyway, smile tugging at her lips as she nodded along.

Today, she was wearing some denim shorts, a strappy top and a jacket, making me forget what anything and everything was as I followed her movement, possibly drooling a little. I couldn't help it! She was everything.

The feeling of something hitting the side of my head pulled me back into reality and I let out a yelp, looking in the direction it came from.

"Wipe your mouth and pay attention," Y/BF/N said with a teasing grin, and I realised she'd hit me with one of her drumsticks.

Aaron and Tommy stifled their laughter as I cleared my throat and embarrassingly picked up the drumstick. We continued to practice some songs we'd learnt, both original and more covers, preparing for a gig Tommy had scored us at some birthday party in the fancy side of town. It was going well for a while, and I almost forgot about the Jackie distraction, until she decided to stop by.

"Hey, Jackie," the others greeted her as she stopped before the open garage door, smiling at us all.

"Hey," she returned, before her eyes fell to me. "Y/N, hey. I could hear you all performing upstairs – you sound awesome!"

We all mumbled our thanks as she chuckled at our bashfulness.

"So, is it cheeky of me to ask if I can watch you practice?" she asked, tilting her head and fluttering her eyelashes convincingly.

It didn't matter whether you had a crush on Jackie Taylor or not, she simply had the power of compulsion, and none of us could deny her request. So, we performed a few songs for Jackie as she complimented each and every one, amazed by our massive improvement since she'd heard us perform that first time at the dance.

As Aaron and Tommy went to get some drinks from the kitchen for us, Jackie approached me with an impressed look.

"Every time I think you can't get cooler, you prove me wrong," she said jokingly. "And you have a pretty voice. You should sing more if you can."

I smiled awkwardly. "It's not that good. I prefer backing vocals. But thanks."

She laughed. "Humble too, love it. Well, you're nailing it on the keyboard and guitar."

"Yep, that's our Y/N for you," Y/BF/N butted in with a cheeky smile, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Super talented this one."

"That she is," Jackie agreed, looking at me knowingly.

"You're talented with your feet, but this one is talented with her fingers," Y/BF/N continued, and I knew what she was trying to say, but god, it came out so wrong.

As I tried to recover from her words, certain my cheeks were hotter than the sun, Jackie suppressed the urge to laugh and Y/BF/N stumbled over her next words.

"Not like that," she said quickly, "like with instruments, y'know? I mean– the keyboard and–"

I had never wanted to die so badly in my life.

"You saw her at soccer tryouts!" Y/BF/N settled with, only doing more to embarrass me as I remembered getting hit in the face. "It's why she didn't make the team."

At this, Jackie finally let out a laugh, covering her mouth to contain it when she saw my reaction.

"It's okay, clearly music was your calling," she assured me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Like Y/BF/N said. Better with your hands than your feet."

Oh, God.

The two of them laughing had me wanting the earth to swallow me up there and then.

—

The down side of having a sibling so close in age was being invited to the same parties, which meant seeing him and his girlfriend there when you really didn't want to.

My friends and I were at some house party, word having spread through my grade and Jeff's, and even though we hadn't talked to each other about going, I still bumped into him and Jackie in the kitchen.

"Y/N?" Jackie spoke first, surprised to see me. "I thought parties weren't your thing."

I paused, trying to think up something intelligible. "Just trying something new," I finally spoke.

She smiled with confusion. "Right... take care, yeah? There's seniors here and alcohol and–"

"I'm a year younger than you," I reminded her, a little annoyed she was treating me like a child, especially in front of my friends. "I'll be fine."

She sighed, unconvinced. "Right. Of course."

After exchanging a look with Jeff that meant 'avoid me at all cost', we all went our separate ways. Despite our distance from one another though, I felt like Jackie was keeping an eye out on me most of the evening. It was growing annoying, making me feel like a child whose mum was watching her play. I knew she probably meant it from a place of kindness, but it was frustrating.

Aside from that, the party was fun and I was having a blast with my friends. It was inevitable that we had a little to drink, but nothing that would have us regretting anything in the morning. At one point, I needed some air, feeling a little warm in the house and a bit tipsier than I probably should have been.

"You look hot," a girl said behind me, making me turn around, not recognising her. She must have seen my expression, as she amended with a laugh, "I meant warm, like sweaty. But yeah, you're hot, too."

Her confidence had me taken aback and I blinked, trying to let her words register in my glazed thoughts.

"I'm Eve," she introduced, before sitting one of the deck chairs in the garden.

"Y/N," I felt the need to do the same, sitting beside her. "I don't think I've seen you at school before."

"Same here," she said with a relaxed smile, no doubt as tipsy as I was. "I think I'd remember a pretty face like yours."

Again, I was surprised at how confident she was, and I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, but I wanted to give it a go myself. "You're pretty cute yourself, Eve."

She laughed. "Smooth."

I smiled with amusement, waving a hand. "I'm usually smoother, but you caught me on a bad day."

She snorted at my joke. "Sure I did."

We stayed chatting for a while, a little more flirtatiously than sober me could have ever managed, and I was very attracted to the dark haired girl who was the only thing on my mind right now. After about ten minutes, we somehow found ourselves leaning in, any chatter going out the window, and just when I thought I was about to get my first kiss off a really hot girl, someone interrupted.

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

I jumped apart from Eve with surprise, my eyes narrowing when I saw it was Jackie stood there, hands on her hips and fixing Eve with a glare.

"Jackie Taylor," Eve realised, looking to her with surprise that soon transformed into annoyance.

"Eve Perkins," Jackie said bitterly.

Now I was confused, standing up as Eve did. "Wait. How do you two know each other?"

Still glaring at Eve, Jackie answered, "Eve plays for the Lions soccer team."

I raised my brows with surprise. That explained why I'd never seen her at school before – she went to our rival school. Not that that mattered, but clearly it did to the captain of the Yellowjackets.

"Really? Making moves on sophomores?" Jackie asked Eve accusingly, and all it did was infantilise me and humiliate me.

"Jackie!" I scolded, to which she gave me a disapproving look.

"What? You're a kid, Y/N!" she told me in a manner that she definitely didn't have the right. "You shouldn't be here with her."

Eve, who clearly didn't sign up for any of this, rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She glanced at me before she left, adding, "See you around."

The alcohol was starting to make me nauseous, in addition to the utter humiliation I'd just suffered, and I instantly fixed Jackie with a glare.

"What the fuck, Jackie?!"

Dropping her arms by her side, she said, "What?"

"You had no right to do that!" I shouted at her, jabbing my finger in her shoulder. "You're only one year older than me, not my mum!"

Indifferent, she straightened up and held her stance. "I was just looking out for you, Y/N. You're–"

"No," I snapped, my head starting to hurt. "You're treating me like a fucking child."

Calmly, she said, "You're Jeff's little sister–"

"But not yours," I reminded her before rolling my eyes and storming off.

"Y/N, wait!" she called, but I ignored her as I headed back inside.

—

My first hangover wasn't one I wanted to remember, especially when I woke up with memories of every horrifying thing that occurred the night before. How the hell could Jackie do that to me in front of another girl? I couldn't believe she'd overstepped like that, treating me like a kid. I hated it. I hated that she only saw me as her boyfriend's little sister. Someone to look out for. Nothing more.

The Saturday after the party was spent with me wallowing in self pity and recuperating, but then the Sunday was even more annoying because Jackie was visiting Jeff. Just the sound of her voice frustrated me and I resorted to hiding in my room just to avoid her. Of course, she couldn't take the hint.

"Go away," I snapped at her when she let herself in my room when I didn't answer to her knocks. "Just because Jeff wants you here doesn't mean I do."

"Y/N, please, I'm so sorry," she said quickly, and I rolled my eyes, looking back to my notebook and pretending she wasn't here. "I was out of line."

Unable to stay quiet, I said, "Funny how you realise that now, huh? After you humiliated me?"

"It wasn't fair," she said guiltily.

I lowered my notebook, glaring at her. "I know it wasn't. But what could I expect from someone who only sees me as a kid?"

She rubbed the crease between her forehead as she sighed regretfully. "I didn't mean that."

I rolled my eyes and looked back to my notebook, ready to ignore her again, but she suddenly took a seat on my bed and took my notebook from my lap. Before I could protest, she gazed at me with her stupidly big convincing apologetic eyes.

"You're more mature than anyone in my grade," she told me truthfully. "It's nothing to do with age, the way I acted. I was just looking out for you because I care."

"Because of obligation," I corrected her bitterly, crossing my arms.

"No," she said with certainty. "Because I care. But... I shouldn't have reacted like that. Even if it was... Eve."

I considered her words, hating that she was already wearing me down. But she seemed sincere, and I never doubted it was from a place of kindness, though it was executed in the worst way possible. And to know she didn't view me as the kid I thought she did... it was reassuring.

"Why are you so bitter about Eve?" I asked, feeling like I'd missed something.

She pushed her hair out of her face as she struggled to find the words. "It's just a feud we've always had. She's captain of the Lions, the Yellowjackets' number one enemy. It's not your problem though."

I didn't know what to say, nor how to react, and she must've taken it the wrong way as she reluctantly glanced at me.

"If you like her, go for it," she said quietly. "I won't get involved again."

She sounded almost... disappointed. And now I felt stupid because it wasn't even about Eve, not really, and it was certainly not worth ruining my friendship – however circumstantial it was – with Jackie over.

"It was just flirting," I admitted, avoiding her eyes. "A kiss. Or almost kiss. I don't like her. I don't even know her. It was just a momentary thing... it's hard having someone be interested in me. Not everybody turns heads like you, Jackie."

Jackie pulled a face. "Are you crazy? Y/N, you're beautiful."

I rolled my eyes, not even sure why I was telling her this. "You're biased."

"No," she disagreed firmly. "You are."

Not in the mood to go back and forth about this, I said, "Look, it doesn't matter. Just... please stop treating me like this. It was humiliating."

"I promise," she said, resting a hand on my lap, palm facing upwards hopefully. "Do you forgive me?"

I glanced at her, seeing the puppy eyes she was giving me, probably without even realising. Yeah, she was always a head turner, and she'd never understand what it was like to be the opposite.

"Sure," I said, placing my hand in hers, eliciting a smile from her.

"Do you wanna join Jeff and I for a movie?" she asked, squeezing my hand before standing up.

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out."

She laughed, bringing a small smile to my lips. "Fair enough. Well... I'll see you later, Y/N."

"See you later."

—

16 years old.

Jeff and Jackie had been dating for a few years now, on and off and breaking up even more than usual lately, but I didn't doubt it any more than I usually did. That was where my first mistake laid.

He'd been out to a party with Jackie and Shauna, getting a ride with Shauna because his truck was getting a repair, and they'd pulled up outside the house about ten minutes ago. I couldn't care less, but my mum sent me outside to check what was up and also invite Shauna in for dinner, so that was why I headed out in the dark to knock on.

When I reached Shauna's truck, I lifted my hand to knock on the passenger door window, only to widen my eyes when I saw the impossible. Jeff and Shauna were kissing– no, that would be an understatement. They were full blown making out, her straddling him in the passenger's seat with their tongues down each other's throats.

They must have sensed my presence because they pulled apart with confusion before their eyes widened at the sight of me. Shocked, like I was the one who'd been caught, I lowered my hand and spun around to return to the house, but then I heard the door opening behind me and Jeff was calling after me.

"Y/N, just wait!" he shouted, before skidding to a halt before me. "It's not what you think."

I was still reeling from what I'd seen, glancing over my shoulder to see a mortified Shauna avoiding my eyes and driving away. Looking back to my brother, I saw the guilt in his eyes and knew it was exactly what I thought.

"You can't say anything," he pleaded, and that snapped me out of my silence.

"You're cheating," I said aloud, still in disbelief. "You're cheating on Jackie. With her best friend."

"It just happened," he tried to explain, but all I could think about was Jackie and how distraught she'd be if she found out.

"How long?" I asked him, as if it would make a difference.

He avoided my stare. "A few months."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled, and he quickly covered my mouth to lower my volume, but I shoved him off me. "How could you do this to Jackie?!"

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he said quickly. "You have to believe me, Y/N."

My casually cool, slightly nerdy brother whom I'd looked up to my whole life was here, caught out for cheating on his girlfriend. I couldn't believe it.

"A few months," I repeated slowly. "You've been cheating on her for a few months."

She was gonna be hurt, but she deserved to know. He was my brother, but I couldn't just let her be in the dark. She deserved to know.

"You can't tell her," he said when he practically read my mind. And when I gave him a disgusted look, he grabbed my hands and continued, "No, Y/N, you can't. You–"

"Jeff, what the fuck?!" I shouted, pulling my hands from his. "I have to!"

"Think about her, about Jackie," he tried to make me see reason. "And Shauna. They're best friends. You tell her and you ruin that! Is that what you want?"

"You already did!" I yelled.

Panicking, he swallowed thickly. "Will you tell her?"

"She deserves to know," I muttered harshly. "You should've just ended it with her first. What the hell were you thinking?"

He didn't answer, and I was too ashamed of him to stand looking at him anymore, instead shoving past and heading back inside. I needed to tell Jackie, but he had a point. Her and Shauna were practically sisters – this would destroy her.

—

I was planning to tell her, I really was. She deserved to know the truth and I certainly wasn't condoning my idiot brother's actions, but wanting to tell her and actually telling her were two very different things.

Every time I thought about it, having the perfect opportunity at school to pull her aside or even when she visited the house during the week after I found out, my words got stuck in my throat and I choked. It wasn't an excuse, and I swore to myself I'd find her after school to tell her in private. But the worst thing happened.

She beat me to it.

It was lunchtime and I was grabbing some things from my locker, the hallway relatively empty as everybody was in the canteen, when I was suddenly pushed back into my locker. Surprised, I turned to see it was Jackie, stood before me with tears streaming down her face, her mascara a mess.

"You knew?!" she got straight to it, eyes searching mine.

Realisation crossed my expression, and before I could even answer, her eyes welled up even more.

"Fuck," she scoffed, hand on her hip as her other pushed her fringe from her eyes. "What a fool I've been. He said you knew and I thought maybe he was trying to upset me, but..."

Fucking Jeff and his big fucking mouth. Why wasn't I surprised he'd thrown me under the bus to make himself look better?

She turned to leave, but I tried to stop her desperately, awfully aware of how I probably looked like Jeff only a week earlier.

"Wait, please, Jackie," I said in a rushed tone, heart breaking when she looked to me with hurt. "I wanted to tell you–"

"Being an asshole must run in the family, huh?" she cut me off, before clenching her jaw. "And here I was thinking I could trust you."

"Jackie, you can, you–"

"You had your brother's back and I shouldn't have expected different," she sneered.

Guilt swallowed me whole as she turned to leave, her sniffling ricocheting off the empty halls and echoing into my ears like bullets. It was somewhat my fault for not going to her sooner, but I wasn't seeing reason as the only thing I could think of was my stupid brother and his big mouth.

I gritted my teeth as I searched the school for him, finding him hanging outside in the parking lot with some friends. As soon as I set my eyes on him, he seemed to notice and the colour drained from his face.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted at him, shoving him into his truck door.

"Woah, Y/N, just chill–"

"Fuck off, Randy!" I silenced his best friend.

"It's okay," Jeff assured his friends, who left us to our good old sibling dispute.

"You told her," I said between a glare. "You finally told her the truth."

"I did," he confirmed.

I shoved him again, making him clench his jaw slightly. "You told her I knew! Why the fuck did you do that?"

Wincing, he said, "I didn't mean to. It slipped out, Y/N. She was upset and talking about who knew and then said your name and I didn't mean to agree but–"

"But you did and now she fucking hates me," I finished for him bitterly. "She thinks I condone your stupid ass actions and that I only cared about protecting my brother."

Defensive, he straightened up. "Well, didn't you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No, you idiot. I just didn't know how to tell her! Fuck."

He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily as I massaged the throbbing point on my forehead. As much as I hated Jeff right now, I knew it was partially my fault. If I'd just gone to her straight away, then she could have found out the truth when she deserved, and in a way less hurtful than she did.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Jeff said with a sigh.

"Yeah, me too," I mumbled, before leaving him be.

It was up to me to fix this now. 

—

Jackie really hated me. No matter how hard I tried to get her attention or find a moment to speak with her, she'd completely avoid, glare at me or outright ignore me. I wasn't sure if anyone knew the reality behind her and Jeff's breakup, but her team were certainly suspicious when they saw the unusual distance between her and Shauna.

Only a week had passed, yet it was impossible to speak to her. The one time I believed I might have the opportunity was when I was going to the nurse's office during Music class because I needed to pick up a carpal tunnel wrist brace – turns out all that keyboard and guitar playing was taking its toll. It wasn't anything serious, but I definitely didn't expect to find Jackie in the nurse's office too, sat on the bed and holding some gauze to her forehead.

I had to do a double take when I spotted her, eyes widening immediately as I rushed to her side. "Oh my god, Jackie, what happened?"

She rolled her eyes, traces of tears on her cheeks. "None of your business. Just leave."

I took in the sight of her, noticing she was in her soccer uniform, probably practicing, but it was a little muddier than usual and her face had a little dirt on it. Did she fall?

"Jackie, please–"

"I said leave me alone!" she snapped, before wincing and readjusting so she could look away.

"Is there a problem in here?" the nurse returned to the room, as I was about to try again. She glanced between a teary-eyed Jackie and I, adding, "Can I help you, Miss Sadecki?"

For now, I accepted defeat and reluctantly stepped back from Jackie. "No, I... I mean, yeah. I was told I could get a wrist brace? My wrist has been hurting. Carpal tunnel."

"Over there," the nurse instructed, nodding to the opposite side of the room where some drawers were. "You should find one that fits."

I nodded sadly before going over there to look around. Meanwhile, I heard the nurse helping Jackie with her head, and then they began to talk and I may or may not have been slowing down my actions to listen in.

"Lucky for you, dear, it's just a scratch, but you banged your head pretty well," she was saying to Jackie. "Take these for the headache."

There was some movement as Jackie probably took her painkillers, and I glanced over briefly to see the nurse cleaning her cut and covering it.

"So, what happened to land this?" the nurse made conversation.

"Was playing soccer, just fell," Jackie mumbled uncharacteristically.

"That's unlike you, Miss Taylor," the nurse noticed.

Jackie exhaled deeply. "I've just been distracted lately, I guess."

I frowned to myself, not realising how all of this drama could be affecting Jackie's dynamic with the team, especially Shauna.

"You found what you're looking for yet, Miss Sadecki?" the nurse asked, startling me.

I grabbed the wrist brace and waved it in the air with an awkward smile. "Yes. Got it. Thanks."

She watched me over her glasses as I was forced to leave the room, but not before shooting Jackie an apologetic glance.

—

A week had passed with Jackie still avoiding me like the plague, and that was when I knew I couldn't let it go on any longer. The only way to get her attention was to show her that I genuinely didn't mean to hide the truth from her, to show her that I didn't condone Jeff's actions. And I had the perfect idea.

Once I was certain everyone at home was asleep one night, I snuck outside and used some permanent markers to graffiti the back of Jeff's truck. It was enough of an inconvenience to teach him a lesson and act as a little revenge for Jackie's sake, but not too much that it would cause world war 3. I was pretty chuffed with my idea to be completely honest, smiling at my handiwork.

The next morning, I knew Jeff would head straight into his truck without looking at the back, not far behind me, so I had no concerns in that area. Instead, I drove to school as usual, eyes scanning the parking lot for Jackie. As soon as I spotted her stood by her teammate Lottie's car, the two of them chatting, I headed straight over to her. Lottie saw me first, conversation ceasing, and then Jackie looked over and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not in the mood, Y/N," she said dismissively.

"I know, but just wait–"

"Take a hint," she said rudely, and Lottie dismissed herself, detecting the tension between us.

"You don't have to talk to me," I said quickly, before she decided to leave too, "but just wait and see. Please."

"Y/N–"

I turned around, quickly looking at the entrance of the parking lot to see if Jeff was here yet, and just on time, I saw his familiar truck driving in.

"Just look!" I told Jackie, holding her arm to stop her from leaving.

She furrowed her brows, curious and annoyed, and followed my gaze. The honking that followed his entrance was enough to hold her attention, and I held back a smile as everybody began to see what the commotion was. He drove past to find a parking spot quickly, and I caught sight of his red face in the driver's seat. Then the back of his truck was in full view, earning laughter from every student present, and I pursed my lips to hold my own in.

'HONK IF I HAVE A TINY WIENER' was written in thick black ink on the back of his truck, with a somewhat questionable doodle beside it. Some of my best work, I won't lie.

"You did that?" Jackie asked, and I looked at her with an apologetic smile.

"I did. I'm sorry, Jackie. I don't like what he did at all. I just want to talk to you."

Her expression softened, finally free of the hurt she'd harboured for me this past week, and I anticipated her response before Jeff suddenly appeared, worked up and embarrassed.

"Are you o–"

"Did you do this?!" he cut me off hysterically, looking to Jackie.

People were still honking their horns and it was very difficult for me to not burst into laughter.

"I didn't–" Jackie started, surprised, but I interrupted.

"Seriously, Jeff?" I said casually. "How would she have done that? Walk all the way across town to our house and do it in the night?"

He pressed his lips together, flustered, knowing I was right. And saying nothing more, he stormed off, steam practically coming from his ears. Only when he was out of hearing distance did Jackie finally let out a laugh.

"You didn't need to do that," she told me, though her expression said otherwise.

"I did," I said knowingly, holding her gaze.

She sighed, smile fading a little.

"I was going to tell you the truth, I swear," I said, using this as my opportunity to speak, but voice speeding up the more nervous I got. "I only knew for a week. I was planning to tell you as soon as I found out, but then he begged me not to and I was confused and I didn't want to hurt you and you found out and it was out of my control."

Frowning at the memory, she looked down at her shoes, lost in thought. The longer she stayed quiet, the worse I felt.

"Please, Jackie," I pleaded, "I'm so sorry."

"I believe you," she murmured, though still not meeting my gaze.

I wasn't optimistic – what if she wanted to leave it at that and never talk to me again? What if she couldn't hang around with me anymore because I reminded her of Jeff? What if–

She hugged me, silencing my doubts in an instant, and I sighed with relief as I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tight.

"I'm here for you," I promised her. "I hope you know that."

She nodded in my shoulder, not quite letting go just yet. "I know. Thank you."

[writing-with-yours-truly]

Could you do one where Reader Javi kate and  have been friends forever user and kate are so close there like sisters javi has always liked reader but after what happened to there 3 friends he decided to stay quiet but he still loves users and wants to be with them Reader comes back with Kate to help along the way javi finally tells her because he gets jealous of Tyler ( he doesn't want Reader though he wants Kate) and they finally start to date he's very protective of Reader at the end of the movie her and javi move in together

Okay, I think I got what you were saying. Here we go! Thanks so much for the request, Rachel! I tried to fill this request the best I could. Lots of love!

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

Always Been you: Javier (TWISTERS) x Reader

Including: Swearing, angst, fluff, broken Spanish.

Not including: smut, the use of y/n.

---------

(First Person: You)

Javi and I are inseparable. Well. Were. Ever since Addy, Praveen, and Jeb died that day, things changed. He enlisted into the army for a few years, and I moved back to Kansas alone. Javi called a few times before I moved, but we hadn't talked all that much. Eventually, he left the army, and moved back to Oklahoma.

Sooner than later, I got a call from him. Enthusiastic, I clicked 'accept' and held my phone to my ear. "Javi!" I enthusiastically exclaim. "Hey, sunshine. I have a question for you." It sounded like he was sorting papers. I myself was making dinner. Microwave dinner.

"Shoot 'em out," I replied, pressing the four on the microwave. "Alright. While I was in the army, they came up with these scanners, we shortened the name to PAR. Anyways, we used them to scan for missiles, and I was wondering if..."

"We used it to scan a storm?" I finished.

"A tornado," Javi corrected. "But these things were huge, so my team and I made these portable units that do the exact same thing. They could help people! But, we haven't been able to track a good enough storm down to do it. So, what do you say? Wanna go storm chasin'?"

--------

After a long while of convincing, he got me to meet him at this gas station in Oklahoma.

I got there, and decided to go in because it was at least a 5 hour drive, and I had only stopped once to go to the bathroom.

I went into the bathroom and washed my hands up before returning to the store part of the station. I looked at the snacks and decided on getting some of my favorite candies and drinks.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. "Hey there, sunshine." I turn around and am face to face with the one and only Javier Rivera. My arms immediately went around him, and he returned the gesture, running a hand through my hair like he always did. I took in a deep breath. He smelled the same. A hint of his Old Spice, and cinnamon. With just a hint of aftershave.

I looked up at him and oh my God, had he changed. His long curly hair was trimmed into a neat cut -but was still curly-, and he looked more...Professional? He was still attractive, if anything the new look made him even more.

"How've you been?" I managed to ask after pulling out of the hug.

"I've been pretty good. Left the army. Joined Storm PAR. Not too big of a change," Javi answered.

"Not big? Javi, you literally changed up in so many ways."

"But for the better, right?" He asked me. "Yeah," I managed to say after a few moments of silence.

He eventually leads me out to his truck with a decal on the back that says "Lion". Inside the passenger seat was none other than...

"Kate!" I exclaimed, running over to her door. She stepped out and gave me the biggest hug. "I've missed you so much!"

Kate smiled, replying, "I missed you too."

Javi, after we caught up, briefed me and Kate on what Storm PAR was and what was going to happen today. While he was explaining how to use the PAR systems, loud music began to play, and trucks and cars and RV's began to pull in.

"Who's that?" I asked, looking as people flooded out of their cars to the main red truck. "That right there," Scott began, pointing out the red truck. "That's Tyler Owens. Self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wrangler'. Hillbilly with a YouTube channel."

I scoffed lightly, watching the blonde climb out of the truck, handing t-shirts out. He was attractive, I'll admit. But he'd never be as attractive as Javi.

I felt Javi's eyes burning holes through the side of my head, so I turned to look at him. "We ready to roll?" I asked.

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

That chase didn't turn out as expected. Tyler Owens had decided to follow us and ruin the plans, while Kate freaked out, and we abandoned the chase all together. We ended up staying at a hotel -which Tyler and his gang stayed at as well!- Javi, Kate, and I all shared a room.

I sat on the roof of the Storm PAR truck, thinking, before Tyler came over. "So, your friend from New York," He started. "She really from there?"

I snap out of my thoughts, turning to look at Tyler. He's being genuine. "No. She's from Oklahoma," I replied, crossing my arms. "Doesn't surprise me. She doesn't seem like the City Girl type," Tyler replied, taking a sip of his Corona beer.

"Nope."

Silence lingered between us.

"You from the city?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"No, I'm actually from Kansas."

"How'd you and City Girl meet?"

"Through college. Majoring in the same thing. I dropped out two weeks before graduation, though."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. I--"

The conversation ceased when Javi came over. "Hey, I need to talk to you." He glanced at Tyler. "Alone."

I get off the roof of the truck and bid farewell to Tyler. Following Javi, I wonder why he wanted to talk to me.

We got into the hotel room, and I sat down on the futon, while he sat on the couch. "So, you and Tyler?" He asked.

"What about him?" I replied.

"You like 'im?" He glared at me from the couch.

"No. Javi, that's ridiculous." I tried to plead.

"I know you do, sunshine. I'm not stupid."

"I don't, Javi! Why, are you jealous?"

That struck a nerve.

"No! It just means I don't have a chance!"

I look at him, confused. "A chance at what?"

"A chance at being with you."

Silence followed that comment.

"God, I've liked you for so long and it's stupid I haven't said anything. And now that Owens-"

"Javi, I don't like Owens. I like you. I always have."

Javi looked at me instead of his twitching thumbs. "Really?" He asked. "Yeah. It's always been you," I replied.

He got up from his seat and sat next to me. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, and pressed his lips to mine. They tasted like salt from the French fries he had earlier. My hand snaked to his hair, before he pulled back.

"Sorry if that was too straightforward, I--"

I pulled him back in for a kiss, shutting him up.

And that's how the rest of the night went.

[octuscle]

Truck Stop

"Dude, do you really think we're in the right place? Not exactly the right place for a hot date, is it?" Michael was annoyed. He didn't like these shitty dating apps anyway. But Christian was always keen to heat up their sex life with new horny guys. And here in this huge parking lot between truck stops and shopping malls, which was pretty empty at this time of day, such a sex date was about to take place. Christian and Michael had dressed up. Michael had bought two new tracksuits. Very expensive. But thanks to his employee discount at the sporting goods store, Michael could afford it. And damn, they both looked hot. Smoking hot! And speaking of smoking, the two of them lit up a cigarette and Christian opened the two bottles of beer he had brought with him with his lighter.

It had just rained, the asphalt was shiny and apart from the rushing traffic on the nearby highway, nothing could be heard. Until footsteps approached audibly from behind. Christian looked around. And his beer almost fell out of his hand. The two guys were huge. Muscular, hairy, dressed in jeans and leather. The bulges in their jeans were almost frightening. Christian had to swallow.

"Damn, Moose, didn't you say you'd picked up two hot men? I see two youngsters who are green behind the ears." "Bear, believe me, I thought that too! Which one of you two boys is Mike?" Michael tried to put out his fag as coolly as possible and say "That's me. But it's actually Michael". It came out more like a beep. "Damn, I have to be back on the highway in half an hour." grunted the one the bear had called him. "Let's get this over with." He gestured for the two to follow them. Christian and Michael didn't dare contradict him. Besides, the two of them were really hot. Damn hot! Bear and Moose entered a shed behind a gas station. Moose pushed Christian against the wall, Bear went after Michael. He felt Bear's tongue deep in his throat. "Beer and tobacco. At least you taste like a man." Now make yourself useful. He pushed Michael to his knees and let his hard-on pop out of his jeans. Michael carefully began to play with the huge cock with his tongue. "Boy, we don't have time for this. Bear forcibly moved Michael's head back and forth. Michael almost gagged. But he got better and better with his cock. He was uncut. So much bigger than Christian's. And hairy. The cock of a real man… Not a boy's. Michael felt his own cock building a tent in his red training pants. "Yeah, that's it, boy. That's the way I like it." Bear groaned. He moved his cock faster and faster, penetrating deeper and deeper into Michael's throat. Michael heard Bear moan. He heard Moose grunting, he heard Christian gagging. He was in ecstasy. And then Bear shot his load. Ounce after ounce. And Michael swallowed greedily. Even so, Bear's sperm ran out of the corners of his mouth left and right. Bear pulled him up and grabbed Michael's cock with his calloused hand. It didn't take long. And Michael shot an impressive load onto Bear's hairy belly. "Go on, clean up the mess, boy! And hurry up, I've got to get going." Michael dropped back to his knees and began sucking his own cum from the grooves of Bear's washboard belly.

Michael was done. He leaned against the wall and breathed heavily. Moose and Bear were gone. Probably back on the highway. Michael heard Christian grunt. In a heavy bass. "Shit, where are my nippers?" That wasn't his friend Christian! "And I'd like a beer now too!"

Mike and Chris were lying in wait for new victims. In the parking lot between the truck stop and the shopping mall, new boys came by every now and then who wanted to be fucked properly. And stallions like these two usually had nothing more to do than wait.

Pics created @ki-kink

[morgsdrew]

last night, we planned a ball / you never showed up at all / i feel a brand new heartache coming on.

(brand new heartache by the everly brothers) — notes: baby talk + i took advantage of conner mun’s hiatus to make angst soooo not my fault /j

Morgan sat on the wooden porch of the Kent farmhouse, watching some people walk by, listening to the animals in the barn, or the chirping from the birds that flew by. She held her phone tightly as her leg bounced in anticipation.

She subconsciously traced shapes on her belly as if it was a way for her to calm her nerves as she stared straight ahead— hoping to see Conner’s truck come to view down the gravel driveway.

She had been in Smallville for weeks now. And it had been the most peace she’d been at ever since she was thirteen. Until today though.

It was 1:15 pm. The second trimester ultrasound appointment is at 2 pm. But she had been waiting outside since after lunch. She was never patient. But for him she was willing to be. ( Or is this just the fear of losing someone again? )

Swiping her phone open, checking at the messages. Or the lack thereof. Last message was her reminding him of her second ultrasound appointment— and her first appointment in Kansas— but it was left on delivered.

“Come on, pretty boy,” she grumbled. She looked away from her phone for a moment then looked back, like that would somehow, magically make Conner text her back.

She heard the door open behind her, Morgan wrapped Conner’s flannel— one she definitely didn’t steal this time— around her more as she glanced through her shoulder to see Martha peeking out.

“You should get inside, honey, it’s getting chilly out there,” she said softly.

Morgan didn’t reply immediately. She had a feeling— or at least Chat has a feeling— that Martha knew where Conner was. But of course, she didn’t ask. She didn’t push. It was up to them to tell her anyway. She was just thankful for how nice Martha and Jonathan were to her.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait a little longer here,” Morgan whispered.

You’re being stupid Mags— no, she is learning to wait. This is good— he is gonna stand her up— did he not do that before?-- Oh like when he didn’t attend her ballet reci— GUYS! Let’s not—

“At least put on another jacket,” Conner’s mother said, handing Morgan her own thick jacket. Morgan took it without a protest and slipped it on. “He’ll come, dear.”

She noticed the hesitation in Martha’s voice.

When Martha returned back inside, Morgan whispered, “I hope he does.”

By 1:45 pm, Morgan stood up, feeling stupid. She couldn’t wait any longer.

When will she learn that believing promises would just leave her heartbroken? She went back inside and asked Martha for directions to the clinic, rejecting the old woman’s offer to drive her there.

You need to learn how to accept help— I did. But it ended up with me being stood up, Morgan shot back to the taunting voices in her head. Morgan was never the type to hope, really. But she thought… with how good Conner was to her, he’d be different. “You knew better,” she chided herself.

Morgan told herself that she was disappointed and angry because Smallville is new to her and she doesn’t— she wasn’t so sure where to go and she relied too much on Conner to guide her. Not because Conner had left her alone to deal with this despite saying he’d be there.

***

It's not that Morgan hates hospitals. But ever since she woke up from her deep sleep in a white, sterile, and somber room with the strong smell of alcohol, she had been uneasy in spaces like these. And last time she was in a clinic, she at least had Jacyn with her. Jacyn will never stood you up— omg move on– just saying— and Conner would nev— okay, GUYS quiet!--

Now she’s alone as she laid there, shivering at the cool gel on her belly under the bright fluorescent lights. The voices quiet down when the technician showed her child through the screen. He was already bigger than she last saw him.

Her heart swelled. Morgan thinks he’s beautiful and she loves him already.

“—its a boy! Congratulations!” Morgan heard the doctor say when she tuned back in. Tears pricked her eyes, not sure if it was because this was feeling more real and real or because she couldn’t help but think how alone— with no hand to hold onto this time— she was in this moment despite how beautiful it was.

And she already knew the gender long ago— Our fault— our bad— whoopsie!— woaaaaah look!— and she was looking forward to seeing his reaction instead. She tried blinked the tears away before they could fall, she had gone through so much and this isn’t something she should cry about. But a stray tear managed to escape— tears of joy, she decided to call it instead.

It was over quickly, Morgan found herself standing by the exit of the clinic, staring at the sonogram in her hands with trembling hands, in a call with her Harley and Ivy who was back in Gotham.

She doesn’t need anyone and she was stupid for being terrified of going on her own when she knew she was capable of handling this. She had always handled things on her own. And maybe she shouldn’t be angry with him. This isn’t his responsibility to prioritise.

He still should've said a heads up— maybe he’s out being a SUPER— girl wha—

Morgan just hoped Conner had a good explanation as she stepped out of the clinic, heart heavy.

tag list: @vicenovirtues @thelivingbed @raphyo @loudmakercollective @conner-kent-central