#don’t even fucking talk to me about the road chip I’ll bite your head off

[hyperfixationtimego]

I’m never going to be able to stop thinking about how each of the movies in the original aatc cgi trilogy were each better than the one before them. like oh my fucking god okay they all had an important focus; aatc 1 was the development of Dave’s parental relationship with the boys, the squeakquel introduces the girls and explores the concept of feeling “out of your element” in terms of being fundamentally different from your peers as well as trying out new experiences you aren’t yet used to, and I’m going to fucking explode okay chipwrecked’s character arcs for Alvin and Simon are literally phenomenal okay. no LISTEN to me alright Simon being BIT BY A BUG and losing all of his inhibitions and acting the way he has subconsciously always wanted to act is literally so fucking mindmelting to me I love it so much. and Alvin having to step in and take over as the responsible one for a change is so !!!!!!!!! so very!!!!!!!! I don’t even KNOWWW okay but it’s so well-done. and not just those two, but the girls get such solid characterizations as well; it’s such a good movie 😭❤️💕✨

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part I

Summary: After more than a decade of service, Captain Syverson as retired from the military, but now that he is retired, he still needs to find a job.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 6,214

Rating: PG - Quasi-Slow Burn, Language, PTSD, Fluff, Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Reclusive Behavior

Inspiration: I wrote a similar story for another fandom and I’ve wanted to finally write a Sy story, since I don’t have one.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t going to post this til I was done, but thought what the hell. Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ of for her help with it.

He was home, finally and for good.

After more than ten years of service in the U.S Army and retiring as a Captain, Austin Wyatt Syverson was no longer a soldier. It felt amazing to be back on southern soil again, home sweet home; back in the city he was named after.

Austin, Texas.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Syverson found his way back home, to his flat in central Austin. He didn't expect a huge welcome back, unlike the first time he came back home from overseas, years before. His parents had decorated his apartment with streamers, a 'welcome back' sign and balloons. They had cake and noise makers as he entered, surprising him. But, this time, there was none of that, just bare gray walls, covered in band posters and other things Syverson liked.

His father had died of a heart attack two years into his second deployment and his mother had passed from breast cancer a year before. He was an only child and he wasn't close to his other relatives, so he would have hit the floor if any of them had even sent him a 'welcome back' text.

No, Austin Syverson was on his own, and he was more than all right with that. One thing he wasn't all right with was not having a job. So, after settling in, getting into his civilian clothing and cooking a good home cooked lunch, he picked up a newspaper and perused the job section. He preferred a job that he could do with his hands, he had always liked working with his hands, even as a kid, tinkering in the garage with his dad. Several advertisements caught his attention and he saved the numbers in his phone, planning on calling them to inquire about the job, but for now, Syverson just wanted to relax and settle in as a newly-minted civilian.

The one thing he did miss was Aika, the German Shepherd he befriended back in Baghdad. He had started the process of having Aika sent over from Iraq, but she was stuck in a month-long quarantine, before she would be cleared to be with him again, in Austin.

“She's all the family I need.” Sy said, popping the cap off a cold one.

Bright and early the next morning, Sy started calling the numbers in the advertisements and discovered to his disgruntled annoyance, that the paper he picked up was nearly a week old. He made a mental note to give the clerk at the corner store a piece of his mind, the next time he saw him.

“I'm really sorry, Mr. Syverson.” the owner of a construction company sighed, feeling bad that he didn't have room on his current job for him.

“It's fine, I'll find something.” Sy frowned, rubbing the side of his face. “Thanks though.” He sighed, and started to hang up.

“Wait!”

Sy paused, his finger almost pressed to his screen to hang up the call, and put it back to his ear. “Yeah?” He replied, biting his lip.

“I just remembered, it's a private contract, I got it a couple days ago.” He explained, fumbling through several stacks of papers and files he had strewn across his desk. “It's out in Celina, I know that's a bit of a drive from where you are in Austin.”

“That's fine.” Sy answered, relieved. “A job is a job.”

He figured if he could do a job overseas, he could do a job three hours outside of Austin.

“Well, if you want it, it's yours.” He told Sy, finally finding the paper he was looking for.

“Of course!”

He gave Sy the details of the contract, it was a private contract, sent into his company by a young lady, who lived just outside of Celina, Texas, on a small farm. Apparently the house and the barn on the property were in disrepair and she wanted them repaired. So, Sy took the contract and the information, then hung up with him, immediately calling the number he had given him for the young lady.

“Hello?” A soft, almost meek, voice answered.

“Hi, I'm Cap-” Sy cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, it was going to be a while, before he broke himself out of the habit of introducing himself as Captain Syverson. “I'm Austin Syverson. I know you don't know me, but I got your contract from Mr. McJames, the owner of Diamond Ridge Constructions, in Austin.” He explained to her, sure it sounded a bit crazy.

“Oh.” She replied, unconsciously brushing her hair out of her face. “Right. The contract.”

“Is it still available?” He asked, feeling a small tingle of apprehension in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes!” She answered, hastily, worried she had given him the wrong impression. “Yes, the contract is still available. You're actually my only inquirer for it.” She told him, honestly.

“I would love to meet up with you and talk about it.” Sy said, letting out a relieved sigh and felt his massive shoulders relax.

“Um,” She gulped, licking her lips and felt her hands shake.

“I could meet you in Celina, take you for coffee?” He suggested, hoping to make her more comfortable with meeting him in a public place. “My treat.” He added, with a sweet tone.

“No, no.” She squeaked, fidgeting in her chair. “That's all right, if you want to take the contract it's yours, Mr. Syverson. It's seventeen an hour, with everything provided.” She explained to him, taking deep breaths, to calm down her nerves.

Sy was a little surprised by how easy it was, but he was willing to do the job, either way. “Of course, I would gladly take the job for you.” He agreed.

“Excellent.” She smiled, bouncing on her toes. “You can start at your earliest convenience.” She told him.

“I can come by tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you.” He replied, looking around his kitchen for something to write with and on, so he could take down her address.

“That's splendid.” She assured him, then rattled off her address for him. “If you have any issues finding the place, just call.” She told him, before they hung up.

Sy woke up early, for the three hour drive from Austin to Celina.

It was a nice drive, watching the bustling city of Austin slowly melt away to the rural landscape of the countryside, endless farmlands of varying crops. Sy found it rather soothing, after seeing nothing but sand, rubble and burned out buildings for so long. He felt like he was getting back to his roots again, his southern heritage. His GPS chimed into his thoughts, announcing he was within a mile of her home. So, he turned off the music he was playing and rolled down the window of his truck, squinting at the mailboxes that dotted the few dirt driveways along the long country road.

“You've passed your destination.”

“Fuck.” Sy grunted, tires screeching as he turned around.

He stopped his truck by the side of the road and got out, looking up and down the empty road, frowning. He pulled his GPS device off its holder and started walking in the direction it indicated her house was in, pausing, as it told him he was standing exactly where he needed to be. Turning in a circle, he noticed the sun baked, wooden gate, that was slightly hidden by weeds and had no mailbox. Frowning, Sy locked up his truck, pushed open the gate that almost fell over in the process, before walking up the driveway.

The simple, two story farmhouse slowly came into view. The roof of the farm porch was dilapidated and sagging, there were shingles missing on both roofs, the paint of the house was faded and peeling, chipping away from the warped and cracked boards, a couple of them were missing.

“It definitely needs work.” Sy said, stopping to look the house over, then noticed the barn a couple of yards away, in even worse condition. “Looks like I got my work cut out for me.” He sighed, but wasn't daunted by any of it.

His eyes moved away from the barn and back to the house as the screen door opened and a woman stepped out onto the porch; Sy could practically hear the high-pitch creak of the screen door from where he stood. She was a teeny little thing, maybe five foot, and looked timid, by the way she hugged the screen door, using it to hide behind as she watched him finish approaching the house.

“Mr. Syverson?” She called out to him, biting her bottom lip.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy answered, stopping at the bottom of the warped steps leading up to her on the porch.

“I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding the place?”

“Not at all.” He smiled at her, shaking his head. “I don't lose my way often.” He assured him, teasingly.

“Good.” She chuckled, nervousness. “I suppose you'd like a closer look at the place?” She asked, glancing around the porch.

“If you don't mind.” Sy nodded, glancing around as well.

Biting her lip, she stepped out onto the porch, the screen door closing with a soft bang. “I'm sure you saw a lot of the issues on your way up.” She explained, slowly stepping off the porch.

“I have.” Sy nodded, looking down and smirking at her bare feet. “Seems a lot of the boards are rotted and the house, and barn, could use a good fresh coat of paint.”

“That's the least of the problems.” She replied, looking at the side of the house as they rounded its corner, heading towards the barn. “There's several weak points in the roof, on both the barn and the house.”

“When was the place built?” He asked, touching the side of the house, flecks of paint brushing off under his fingertips.

“1921.” She answered, looking up to the top of the house, squinting in the bright sunlight. “I bought the place four years ago.” She explained, turning towards the barn.

“I can understand you wanting to fix up the house, being you live in it.” Sy commented, checking out the barn. “But, what do you want the barn with? If you don't mind me asking.”

“I'm considering turning it into my studio.” She answered, trying to push open the barn door.

“What do you do?” Sy asked, helping her push open the door; one handed, while she leaned her body into it.

“I'm a graphic designer and a photographer.” She explained to him, stepping inside the barn with him.

“That's cool.” He smiled at the back of her head.

“Thanks.” She replied, smiling at him over her shoulder. “So,” She gulped and glanced around the barn. “Do you think you can do the job?” She asked, regarding him.

Sy heaved a sigh and roamed around the barn for a moment, checking things out. “I'm more than sure I could.” He finally said, stopping in front of her and crossed his arms. “It might take a couple of weeks to finish. But, I can do it.”

“Great.” She smiled, relieved and excited to hear that he could.

“I can start right away, if you want.” He added, resolute.

“Sounds excellent.” She nodded, fidgeting and nervously twisting the hem of her tank top with her fingers. “I can get the tools for you.” She turned and left the barn, heading back towards her house.

Sy followed after her, staying on the top step of the porch, while she disappeared inside. “Here.” He smiled as she came back, carrying a heavy red and rushed toolbox; stepping forward to take it from her.

“If you need anything else, more tools or supplies, like, I don't know, lumber or whatever.” She mumbled, staring down at her bare feet, shyly. “Just ask.”

“I will.” Sy grinned down at her, hefting the toolbox and making the tools inside of it rattle.

With that, Sy gave her a gentlemanly nod of his head and stepped off the porch. He carried the heavy box of tools down the long driveway, back to his truck, still parked on the side of the road, where he left it. Opening the back hatch, he set the tool box down in the truck bed and opened it, checking out all the tools that were stored inside it.

“Not too bad.” He nodded, approving of the selection that was inside, then turned towards his first project for the place, the pathetic excuse and falling over the gate.

Digging his phone out of his pocket, Sy googled the closet hardware store, secured the toolbox in the back of his truck and hopped in behind the wheel and followed the directions into the town of Celina. He knew she told him to tell her if he needed anything while working on her property, but Sy had a sound enough savings, that he didn't mind spending his own money on bits and bobs. He browsed the aisles of the hardware store, picking up a couple of tools he would need and weren't in the box, then several boards of wood, to build a new gate.

“Thanks.” Sy muttered, nodding his head at the hardware store owner, collecting his things and packing them back into his truck.

Getting back to the farm, Sy parked close to the head of the driveway and got to work, tearing down the old gate and piled up the lumber to the side, out of the way. Without a power source, this far out, Sy relied on a trusty hand saw and the thick muscle of his arms to cut the fresh boards, still strongly smelling of the pine tree they were hewn from. He measured everything out, tucking the pencil behind his ear, as he leaned into the saw as he cut them to length and nailed them together, forming the new gate.

She watched him the whole time, from the upstairs window of her office. He was a hard and diligent worker. Taking painstaking time to double, or even triple, his measuring of the boards, before finally cutting them with a manual saw. In a matter of hours, he had the new gate made and started putting it up. Biting her lip and saving her work on her laptop, she went downstairs into her humble little kitchen, whipped up a couple of things, making some food and drinks, before texting him.

» If you're hungry, I made lunch.

Sy smiled at her text, putting the last screw into the gate and pushed it open with two fingers. Grinning and proud of his work, then turning back to his truck, he put all the tools away and cleaned up the rest of the mess he made, then drove through the gate, stopping long enough to get out and close the gate behind him, then went up and parked beside her own little car. She came out onto the porch, holding a plate of food and a tall glass of cold lemonade.

“Thank you.” He grinned at her, taking the plate and glass, and sitting down on the rickety porch swing, balancing the plate in his lap.

“You're welcome.” She mumbled back, so shy that she didn't meet his blue eyes.

Chuckling, Sy took a deep gulp of the lemonade, parched beyond belief after all the work he had done. He moaned as the cold tang washed over his tongue, refreshing him tremendously. “That is delicious, thank you.” He complimented her.

“Thank you.” She smiled, still fidgeting beside the swing. “I'll be inside, if you need me.” She said in a rush, and scuttled inside.

Sy tilted his head as the screen door slammed shut behind her. She was a curious person, always so nervous and shy, fidgeting and never meeting his eye. He wondered if his presence made her feel uncomfortable, he was wearing a red, DILLIGAF t-shirt, a tight pair of black jeans and boots. He was an imposing guy, with stacked muscle, which made his job in the Special Forces easier, and his head was shaved, while sporting a beard. Sy's whole presence came off as authoritative and commanding, it was a natural effect he had, it was one of the reasons he had advanced in the military and succeeded as a leader so well.

Sighing, he finished off his food and gulped down the rest of his lemonade, before getting up and carefully knocking on the wood of the door frame, peeking inside. The main door was half open and he could see into the foyer and the living room beyond that, the large rug on the hardwood floors and the mismatched couch and furniture of the living room, a flat screen tv mounted above the fireplace. He could just see around the corner into what looked like a dining room, seeing the edge of a table and a couple of chairs. She appeared from the other side of the door, looking up into his eyes for a moment, before dropping them down again.

“All finished?” She asked, quietly.

“I am, thank you.” Sy smiled at her, pressing his lips together. “It was really good, the best I've had so far, since coming home.” He told her, taking a step back as she opened the screen door, taking the dishes from him, their fingers brushing.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked, gulping at the soft touch of her fingers.

“No, thank you.” She squeaked, drawing away from him. “I appreciate you fixing the gate.” She added, breathlessly.

“Of course, ma'am.” Sy smiled, chuckling softly. “I'll be back tomorrow and I'll have a look around the house and see what projects need more direct attention.” He explained to her, glancing around the porch.

“That sounds great.” She mumbled back, clearing her throat.

“I'll take my leave then.” Sy said, bowing his head to her, and heading back to his truck.

There was an infernal banging coming from outside, with a loud clattering that followed, all of it in a steady rhythm that was driving her crazy.

She was nuzzled into the warmth of her thick down blankets, in that heavenly position, where you found the perfect spot on the mattress to lay, and even the slightest movement will ruin it, in a millisecond. She growled into her pillow, still reluctant to move even the tiniest bit, but she couldn't take it anymore, and thrashed out of bed, in a fling of arms, legs, pillows and blankets.

“What in the world?” She huffed, pulling on an oversized hoodie and scrambled downstairs.

She froze, catching a glimpse out of the large bay window in her den, a huge male with a shaved head, and realized it was Sy. Gulping, she moved closer and watched him through the window. He wasn't in his red shirt and jeans this morning, but wore a blue tank top and a pair of basketball shorts, but still sporting his combat boots. He also had wireless earbuds in, head bumping to whatever he was listening to. Mustering some early morning courage and stepped over to the front door, pulling it open.

“Careful!” Sy called out, appearing from the other side of the house.

She looked down and saw a good amount of the boards of the porch were gone, and looked back up at him.

“Morning.” He smiled, one corner a bit higher in an amused way.

“Morning.” She squeaked back, burrowing into her hoodie a little bit.

“I thought I would start on the porch.” Sy said, looking over what he had already torn up.

“I-I can see..that.” She stammered, biting the inside corner of her lip, then looked behind her, to the coo-coo clock on the foyer wall.

It was seven in the morning, and Sy had already been on the farm for an hour and pulled up just about half of the wrap around porch. She looked back at him and was rather impressed by it, with a shy nod of her head, she went back inside and into the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker and got breakfast going. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, she glanced in the direction of the noise and followed it again.

“Would you like some breakfast or coffee?” She asked as Sy yanked up another warmed porch board, with his gloved hands, biceps bulging as he got it loose with a grunt.

Tossing the board into the growing pile, Sy wiped his sweaty face on his arms and turned to look up at her. “I would love some, if that's all right with you.” He answered, he only had a liquid breakfast of a tall black coffee from Starbucks as he left Austin for Celina.

“Pancakes, eggs and bacon, okay with you?” She asked, fidgeting.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, smiling sweetly at her.

A smile twitched on her lips, before she turned on her bare feet and went back into the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator, pulling out the milk, eggs and bacon, before going into the pantry to grab the dry pancake ingredients. The coffee maker beeps as she whipped up the pancake batter and turned, pulling out two cups from the cabinet and setting up her own cup, before going back to the front porch.

“Coffee is ready, if you want to—come in—and get your cup ready.” She told him, shyly.

“Thank you.” Sy smiled at her, wiping his face again.

Pulling off his gloves, stuffing them into his back pocket, Sy entered the house, glancing around as he followed her into the kitchen. He found his cup by the coffee maker and smirked at it, it was a Texas Rodeo cup, a picture of a bucking horse on the background of the shape of Texas.

“I wasn't sure what you took in your coffee.” She commented as he stirred a single sugar into the cup and took a seat at the breakfast nook table.

“Either straight black, or with one sugar.” He replied, taking a sip of the steaming brown liquid, while he watched her finish mixing the pancake batter. “Depends on my mood.” He added, as she poured a bit of the thick batter into the sizzling hot skillet on the very old, blue and gas stove, that had to be made in the 1940's.

Easily. Sy thought, taking a deep gulp of his coffee.

“So, you live here alone?” He asked, lifting a brow at her and set it cup down on the table in front of him.

“I do.” She nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear, and flipped a couple of the pancakes.

“Does your family live nearby?”

She paused for a moment, her back stiffening at the mention of her family. “My mother passed away, when I was born.” She said, her voice strained. “I don't have any siblings and I don't know where my father is.” She explained, flipping the finished pancakes onto a plate by the stove and turned to the cardboard carton of eggs.

“How many would you like?” She asked, holding up a sooth, brown shelled egg.

“Three, please.” Sy replied, nodding his head to her. “Sunny side up.”

“What about your family?” She asked, cracking his eggs into the pan.

“No siblings and both of my parents are dead.” He answered her, leaning back in his chair. “My dad died of a heart attack, during my second deployment and my mom died of cancer, little over a year ago.” He explained, watching her baby his eggs.

“I'm so sorry.” She frowned, looking over her shoulder at him, with a look of pure sympathy, but no pity.

“It's all right.” Sy told her, his voice soft.

She fried the bacon with the eggs, then set the hot stack of pancakes and bacon on the table, setting Sy's plate of sunny side up eggs in front of him, with a container of syrup and a dish of butter, before handing him his fork. She sat down at the table, across from him, with her plate of two scrambled eggs, then took two pancakes and three pieces of bacon for herself, drizzling her pancakes with the maple syrup.

“Thank you, ma'am.” Sy smiled, before digging into his food.

“Lily.” She mumbled, staring at her untouched plate.

“Excuse me?” Sy frowned, looking up at her, fork posed at his mouth.

“Lily.” She replied, a little bit louder. “My name is Lily. You can call me, Lily.” She told him, meeting his eyes.

Sy grinned at her, lowering his fork and sitting up straighter. “All right then, Lily.” He nodded, loving the roll of her name off his tongue. “I'm Austin. But, everyone just calls me, Sy.”

Lily held her free hand out over their plates. “It's a pleasure.” She smiled at him, sweetly.

“Same.” Sy replied, gently taking her smooth and dainty hand in his big and calloused one.

Both of their faces warmed, before their hands pulled apart and they went back to finishing up their breakfast, having a polite and casual conversation as they did. With breakfast finished, Lily cleared away the plates and silverware, setting them in the sink to be washed later on, while Sy pulled his gloves back on and headed back out to finish pulling up the rest of the porch boards.

“Now that all the boards are pried up,” Sy explained as they ate lunch together in the kitchen. “I'll be able to start nailing down the new ones.” He told her, gulping down his glass of iced tea. “I'll put down the boards in front of the main door, so you can actually get out of the house, without having to be a hurdle jumper.” He laughed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Sy was true to his word, as he always was, he had all of the boards of the porch along the front of the house down, even though it took him until after sundown to pull it off. He sighed, as he drove the last nail in flush to the board. He stood with a groan, his knees and shoulders stiff and screaming from the hard work of the day. Gathering the strewn about tools, Sy put them back into the tool box and lugged that into the back of his truck.

“Lily.” He called out through the open screen door of the house, knocking gently on the door frame.

“Yes?” She called back, then appeared a moment later.

“I'm done for the day.” He told her, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “I'll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Bright and early, I'm sure, Captain.” She smiled at him.

Sy chuckled, he had told her a teeny bit about his career in the military, how he was a Captain and had spent more than ten years in the service, right out of high school, much to his parents' disappointment, since they wanted him to go to college. But, Sy wanted to serve his country, especially after the attacks in New York, causing him to enlist in early 2002.

“As always.” He grinned back, rubbing his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He bowed his head to her and stepped back.

“Good night, Sy.” She nodded back to him.

Sy got into his truck and sighed heavily, as he started the engine. He was exhausted beyond belief, he scrubbed at his face as he drove down the long driveway, stopping to open and close the gate as he left the property. He only got a couple miles from Lily's, when he decided he was just too exhausted to drive the three hours to Austin. So, he turned around and headed for Celina, knowing there was a small motel there that he could rent a room from for the night. There was also the upside of staying in the motel, it was only thirty minutes away from Lily's place, which meant he could get there earlier and could work for a few more hours.

Lily came out onto the porch, when she heard the hammering on the east side of the house stop. Her bare feet gliding over the smooth new boards on the porch. Rounding the corner, she found Sy with his back against the side of the house, where he was currently prying the warped siding off of. She chuckled, realizing he had apparently stopped for a short break and fallen asleep. She moved closer to him, watching his face pinch and his head shake, like he was trying to wake himself up, but couldn't.

“Sy?” She called to him, softly, kneeling down beside him. “Hey, Sy.” She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Austin.” She said his name, gently.

She had no sooner touched his shoulder, than he jerked violently and lunged towards her. Lily yelped and scrambled backwards, away from him. Sy shook his head several times and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard, his entire body rigged.

“I'm sorry.” Sy pushed the words out of his throat. “I am so sorry, I didn't realize I fell asleep.” He said, sitting back where he had been. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” He looked over at her, his intense blue eyes scanning her for anything out of place, but only found her frightened and shaking.

“Lily.” He choked.

He had episodes like this, on and off over the last thirteen years, he had decked more than one of his men, who tried shaking him awake. He had even ended up choking one of his commanding officers, and needed his squad to pull him off and slap him back into consciousness. Sy had lost more than one friend and girlfriend over his episodes, nightmares and PTSD, he really didn't want to lose Lily over them.

“I'm-I'm f-fine.” She gulped, biting her lip and tried to calm herself down. “Are you?” She asked, pressing her back to the post that supported the porch roof.

Sy let out a hard breath, pressing a hand to his face and took a moment to settle his nerves, relieved that he hadn't hurt her. “I'm fine. I just didn't realize I fell asleep. I've been really tired lately.” He paused and dropped his hand.

“I've been tired for years.” He admitted out loud.

“You've been working from sun up to sun down, here for a month. That's without a day off, Sy.” She said, drawing her knees up to her chest. “You really should take a day off. When was the last time you had an actual day off?” She asked, studying him.

“What year is it?” He asked, chuckling at her.

“That's not good.” Lily said, shaking her head at him, then stood up. “All right, Syverson. You're officially off duty, effective now.”

“But, the siding?” He said, waving his hand over the unfinished siding on that side of the house.

“It can wait.” She told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, what am I supposed to do then?” He asked, heaving a sigh and standing up.

“Whatever you like, Sy.” She said, turning back towards the house.

“What if I'd like to finish the siding?” He asked, smirking at her, impishly.

Lily turned, lifting a brow at him and narrowing her eyes, making him chuckle at her, throwing his hands up in defeat. He followed her into the house and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. In the month since Sy had taken the job on Lily's property, they had gotten close and she had made him feel more at home than he had ever felt, anywhere in the world. Now, that she had made him take the day off, Sy had no idea what to do with it. Since he was a little boy, he was working hard, either on his parents' small farm or dealing with his deployment in the middle east.

He stepped back out on the porch, smirking to himself as he stood on solid porch boards that didn't squeak and creak under his weight. He still needed to stain the boards, but he planned on doing that after he removed all the siding from the house and put up fresh ones. His only missing plan with the siding was finding out if Lily wanted him to stain those too or if she wanted the house painted a particular color. But, he'd figure that out tomorrow, for now, he started out over the slice of land out front of the house. The grass was almost as tall as he was and he knew she didn't have a mower, not even an ancient push mower, so it would be something else he'd need to get his hands on to tame the wild jungle of sun bleached grass and weeds.

Humming to himself and taking a sip of his coffee, Sy walked around the porch, surveying the work he had done on that side, with two thirds of the siding pulled off, then continued to the back of the porch. The backyard was just as vast and wild as the front and sides of the house. Her land butted up against another farm that looked like they grew wheat. He noticed a slight movement on the thin trail that cut through the overgrowth and stepped off the porch to follow it, stopping several yards away from the boundary line that divided the two properties, finding Lily leaning on the rusted metal gate, her arm held out above it as a dapple-gray horse came trotting up to her, taking the apple out of her outstretched hand. She rubbed the mare's nose, smiling softly at it, and pulled out another apple out of the pouch of her hoodie.

Sy smiled as he watched her feed and pet that magnificent creature. “A friend of yours?” He asked, alerting her to his presence.

Lily blushed at him, trying to bite back her smile. “You can say that.” She replied, feeling the horse nudge her gently, and produced another apple. “Her name is Juniper.” She explained, patting the side of the horse's neck.

“She's beautiful.” Sy replied, but his eyes were on her.

“Isn't she.” Lily agreed, grinning at the horse, oblivious.

Sy moved closer to them, his shoulder brushing Lily's as he reached out to pet the mare, chuckling at Juniper's snort and head shake. “She hasn't been a mare for very long.” He pointed out.

“Nope.” Lily shook her head. “She was born a little more than three years ago. My neighbor, her owner, mostly deals in wheat and corn, but his daughter is working on becoming a champion barrel racer. So, he bought Juniper, when she was about a year old.”

“She looks in good shape for it.” He commented, checking out the rest of the horse. “Have you seen any of her shows?” He asked, looking back at Lily.

“Sadly, no.” She shook her head, shyly. “I do know she won her last one.” She added, smiling up at him. “It was her first win, in the ten or so shows she's competed in.”

Sy smiled at her, she seemed and sounded so proud of the horse's owner winning the competition. “We should go to her next one.” He suggested, lifting his brows at her.

“What?” Lily squeaked, looking at Sy like a frightened doe.

“Yeah, it will be a great day off for me.” He grinned at her, liking the idea. “I've never seen you leave the property, either.” He added, his brow creasing as he thought about it. “I've only seen you go far enough to get the mail, come to think of it.”

“I don't know.” She gulped, licking her lips nervously. “I've had a lot of work lately.” She stammered, fidgeting and rubbing her hands on her thighs.

“You give me guff for not taken a day off, and won't take one yourself.” He teased her, lightheartedly. “What's the worst that can happen?” He asked, leaning against the gate. “It's not like the world will blow up.”

“It might.” She mumbled, toeing at the sparse gravel under her feet.

Sy could tell she was anxious about leaving the house, he could understand that, the world was a shitty place, and he had seen a lot of that first hand. But, he blew it off, figuring it was just the stress of getting all her work done on time.

“I'll think about it.” Lily said, biting her lip and shyly scrunching up her body.

“Good.” He smiled, hopeful.

PART II

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Late Night Talks

Summary: After a long hunt, the reader and Dean grab a late dinner on the road. Dean notices the reader not eating much and calls her out on her recent eating habits when he gets concerned about the road she’s on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, discussion of disordered eating & eating disorders, fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo! 

______

“I read this article earlier,” said Dean as he popped a french fry into his mouth. You were about five hours from home, eating a midnight dinner at some tiny little diner on the side of the road after a successful but exhausting ghoul hunt.

“Mhm,” you hummed, picking at a brussel sprout on your plate. 

“It was on disordered eating,” he said, picking up a piece of bacon that’d fallen onto his plate and eating it.

“You mean eating disorders,” you said, stabbing into the sprout and eating it before you went back to your dicing up your chicken tenderloin.

“No this was something different. It’s like, how some people shift into having an eating disorder, like pre disorder I guess.”

“So...was there something interesting in this article?” you asked, picking up a piece of chicken and taking a bite.

“Actually yeah,” he said. You chewed and took a few bites before he set the burger down and wiped off his hands. “It was about how there’s dangers involved with disordered eating since it could turn into something all consuming, like a full on eating disorder.”

“Well that sounds kinda obvious,” you said. 

“Well it was about how stuff like skipping meals, limiting your calories too much, saying some foods are good and others are bad, that stuff over time can really start to mess with your head and lead to that compulsion of being obsessed with food and weight.”

“Isn’t that just common sense,” you said. He hummed and you ate another piece of chicken before pushing the plate away. “I don’t know about you but I’m full.”

“Yeah, it is common sense,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before spinning it around, showing you a number.

“Are you tracking my fucking calories?” you said.

“Oh geez, Y/N. Maybe cause you hit every red flag in that article I read and I got concerned. There’s no humanly possible way you’re full when you’ve eaten a whopping 800 calories today. You’re starving yourself.”

“I’m not hungry today, weirdo,” you said. 

“You were slow on that hunt and we both know why. You’ve been doing this for weeks really extremely and honestly, since I’ve met you.”

“I’m on a diet. You know that.”

“You’re on the ‘I’m fucking up my metabolism’ diet. Ah, that one’s a classic,” he said.

“Back off. I am not hungry lately is all.”

“Eat this,” he said, sliding his plate in front of you. He took your plate and started eating, staring at you. “Eat the burger.”

“I said-”

“Take one bite.”

“I’m not hungry,” you growled.

“Then take a bite and spit it out.” You picked up the burger, covered in cheese, bacon, peppers and a sauce that smelled so good. You swallowed and put it down, Dean shaking his head.

“Dean. I’m just not hungry.”

“Why won’t you take a bite?” he asked. You sighed and closed your eyes. “Y/N.”

“Because I’ll want to eat the whole thing and this has to be a thousand calories and I can’t eat that much, Dean. I’m on a diet.”

“Today I’ve seen you have three cups of coffee, a banana, and half of a small piece of chicken and a few brussel sprouts. You need to eat.”

“I need to lose weight.”

“For what?”

“I’m overweight.”

“Because a little stupid calculator online said so? So another stupid little calculator tells you how much food you’re allowed a day? But maybe you’re having a bad day so you tell yourself you don’t deserve to have even all of that already restricted food? So you make it even smaller to the point of, hm, what’s that word, disordered eating?”

You stared down at your lap and heard him get up, sliding into the booth beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you looked out the window.

“I do need to lose weight Dean. It’s true. I’m not supposed to be this big.”

“What are you supposed to be then?”

“Like that waitress. She’s small and thin. She’s healthy.”

“I see,” he said. She was working behind the counter, no one else in the place aside from a man at the other end and the cook. “Excuse me miss?”

She popped her head up and walked over with a tired smile.

“Can we get another bacon cheeseburger? And a big bowl of that ice cream sundae?” he asked.

“You got it,” she said, writing it down.

“One more thing,” said Dean. “Do you like the way you look?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Dean, shut up,” you said. “Please ignore him.”

“I mean, are you happy with your body? Do you eat whatever you want, wear whatever you want, never worry a second about what goes in it or how it looks? You’re a beautiful woman but what do you actually think of yourself?”

She was quiet for a few moments before she noticed the swapped plates in front of you.

“You know when you first asked that, I thought, you were being creepy. I get creepy guys in here a lot late at night. The cook is a big guy but it happens. I know I’m small. I wish I was stronger. I wish I looked like she does. I’m something that looks like they’d snap in the wind. She’s strong and has an ass and curves. She’s not a rectangle with no curves or chest. She doesn’t look like a guy. I wish I wasn’t so delicate but I don’t think I can change that much.”

“Probably not so much,” said Dean. “But I hear weight training is good for muscle building. Creeps are always creeps but might help to be able to deck ‘em.”

“Yeah. I’ll go put that order in for you guys,” she said with a smile. Dean turned his head back to you after she went through the double doors.

“Funny. You want her body. She wants yours,” he said. 

“She doesn’t know I’m overweight.”

“She doesn’t know how damn strong you are. Her body? She was right. She is delicate and it’d be a safe idea for her to put on some muscle given her job. You though? You I’ll worry to death over no matter what. But you’re missing the most glaring thing of all.”

“What?”

“You just said she doesn’t know you’re overweight. She doesn’t know how much you weigh. If she doesn’t know how does anyone know? Why does a number on a scale matter? Health does, don’t get me wrong, but care more about what your body can do than what size pants you fit in. It’s all bullshit anyways. You can be a small one place or a triple XL somewhere else. You can have a normal chest but be told it’s too big or too small by a different brand. I just don’t want to see you going down a path towards something worse where you’re hurting yourself.”

“I’d never hurt myself, Dean.”

“If your body is hungry and you don’t feed it, you’re hurting it. I’m talking about you’re cold, you’re starving, you have no energy, you feel like crap. But you won’t eat, not until it gets a little worse because you think you can take it because you’ve taken it before. That’s hurting yourself and you hurt yourself a lot sweetheart.”

You looked down and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m really cold right now,” you said quietly. “I’m tired of always being so fucking cold.”

“Eat,” he said, tugging his plate closer to you. “I’ll order you some soup too. That’ll warm you up.”

He took off his jacket and wrapped it over your shoulders. He kissed your cheek and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’ve been like this for years, Dean. I don’t know how people eat normally anymore.”

“I know. You probably fucked up your metabolism but we can unfuck it up too. You can be healthy but this, this isn’t healthy. I’ll do it with you but you gotta promise me you won’t starve yourself anymore.”

“I’ll try,” you said.

“I’ll take trying to start with,” he said. “I’m gonna order that soup. Eat up for me sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Y/N!” shouted Dean from the kitchen as you walked past. “You eat lunch yet?”

“No,” you said. 

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. I was waiting for you to get done with Baby,” you said.

“What’d you eat so far?” he asked.

“I had a cup of coffee and a protein bar and for lunch I’m having one of those greek wraps I like,” you said. “Satisfied?”

“I’d prefer if you had two wraps or a wrap and snack with it,” he said. You grumbled and he sighed. “Y/N. You said I could take the lead on this.”

“I’m gaining weight,” you said.

“Yeah cause you aren’t eating what a toddler does in a day anymore which is perfectly healthy for a grown woman. I know it’s only been a month but you have so much more energy, you sleep better, you have less nightmares. Your skin looks amazing. So gain a few pounds, gain more than a few, let’s fix your metabolism and then we’ll start working out a little and we’re not gonna give a fuck how much we weigh at all and we’re gonna be the hottest fucking couple in this neighborhood I swear.”

“I like not feeling cold anymore,” you said with a small smile, Dean walking over and rubbing your arms. “It’s just...hard sometimes to not...wait to eat until your stomach hurts from no food. I’m figuring out what being hungry is again.”

“It’s gonna take some time but your body will learn again. We just gotta be extra nice to it right now while it recovers,” he said. “And then we’ll always be nice to it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I promise.”

“So, one wrap or two?” he asked, opening the fridge.

“One. I’ll save the other for tomorrow. But maybe I’ll have some pita chips and hummus with it?” you asked.

“That sounds yummy,” he said. “I think I’ll have that myself.”

“You don’t have to eat my diet Dean,” you said.

“I could do with being nicer to my own body myself,” he said. “After lunch do you want to go for a walk? I have a sneaking suspicion the couple three blocks over are a pair of vamps.”

“That’s the guy with the skin condition, babe,” you said.

“Are you sure cause he got like a weird rash that one time.”

“It’s a condition,” you said with a smile. “But I would love to go for a walk with you while the day is still nice.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart,” he said, starting to take food out of the fridge. You walked over and gave him a hug from behind. 

“Thanks for saying something. Even if I tried pretending I was fine.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he said. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

________

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 11

Cult Girl goes on a little solo excursion while Hannibal works.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: (fake) blood, mentions of death overseas, anti-choice harassment, discussion of abortion

Archie and Max leaving the picture was a problem you couldn't bring yourself to deal with when you awoke the next day. You anticipated a massive downward spiral if you didn't do something for yourself and fast. You'd spent so much time worrying about your schoolwork and your baby that it was long past due.

You made a couple of phone calls and found a GameStop a little out of the way with a used copy of Pokémon Alpha Sapphire for sale. About twenty minutes drive. Hannibal had back-to-back appointments clogging up his day, so it gave you an excuse to go on a little excursion.

You climbed into your car, picked an extensive playlist of your favorite songs and set off. You plugged the directions into your phone and let the map guide you. The roads narrowed as you watched your surroundings grow less and less familiar.

Soon enough, you pulled into a parking lot. Nestled between a Planned Parenthood and a used bookstore, the GameStop beckoned you. At the end of your tunnel vision was that game and nothing could stop you from getting it.

Certainly not from lack of trying.

"Stop right there!" A voice said. It chuckled, trying to make the rude interruption seem friendly.

An obstacle appeared in your line of sight: a plain-looking middle-aged white woman with dyed blonde hair. Just your garden variety Karen.

"Can I help you?" You said, giving your voice a distinct, annoyed bite.

She smiled, though not without discomfort. "Are you going, y'know, in there?"

She gestured to the building behind you. Uncertain of what she wanted or why she was making a trip to the GameStop so weird, you answered in the affirmative.

"Yeah, why?"

She wrapped her hand around your arm, as if to restrain you. Her touch made your skin crawl.

"I really don't think you should go in there."

You finally put the pieces together. This lady was just some anti-choice maniac, waiting outside a Planned Parenthood for any random pregnant woman to approach.

"Yeah, I totally carried this baby for five months just to get rid of it within a week of the legal termination threshold." You rolled your eyes. "I just want it to feel the maximum possible amount of pain when I destroy it."

The woman's face turned into one of abject horror and you smiled, feeling proud of yourself. You yanked your arm from her hand with full intent to walk away. That should have been the end of it.

"Wait!" She shouted, snatching you by the shoulder. "Please, reconsider. God gave you that little one because he wants you to be a mommy!"

"For the love of fuck, woman." You snarled. "Can you seriously not pick up on sarcasm? I'm not even going to the clinic. I'm going to the GameStop."

She wasn't convinced. "See, I think you're lying to me. I think you're telling me one thing and then you're gonna do another thing."

"What the hell is it any of your business, Karen?" You scowled at her. "Leave me alone!"

"Just pray about it, please!" She pleaded. "What if your baby grows up to be a soldier? Protecting your freedom?"

"Oh, then I should definitely kill it now." You snarked. "Would save him the trouble of getting blown up by other Americans in a senseless war like my dad."

Adda girl, [F/N]! You thought to yourself. Nothing gets nosy strangers to go away quite like revealing even more personal information!

She put both her hands on your protruding belly. "Don't worry, angel. Mommy isn't going to kill you! Aunt Laurie won't allow it!"

You vaguely remembered your obstetrician saying something about how twenty-week fetuses could hear the outside world. You weren't planning on subjecting the kid to violence this early on, but desperate times call for desperation.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her down. She screamed, getting the attention of a few onlookers.

"Help!" She wailed, lying on the ground as if she couldn't get up. "I'm being attacked!"

You dashed as quickly as your legs could carry you into the GameStop. The lone cashier, a purple-haired girl with a nose ring, pretended that she hadn't been watching the altercation and looked back down at her sandwich.

"Welcome to GameStop." She said, hesitantly. "Are you... [F/N]?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm here for that copy of Alpha Sapphire."

"Tubular." She rummaged in a drawer beside her for the envelope.

A rather massive eevee plush displayed behind the counter caught your eye. "How much for her?"

The cashier placed the game on the counter and looked back at the massive eevee. "Fourty-four ninety-five."

"I'll take her too." You said.

The cashier pulled the eevee down from the shelf and scanned its tag.

"Aight, your total is sixty-nine eighty." She said.

"Nice." You snickered, reaching for your credit card.

The cashier smirked as you inserted the chip. "Hey, was that crazy lady accosting you outside?"

"I take it she does that a lot?" You asked.

She heaved a sigh. "You have no idea."

You looked behind at the large windows and saw the woman standing outside the door, waiting for you. You felt like a caged animal. Your eyes scanned the room and landed on a couple ketchup packets. A sick idea formed in your head.

"Are you gonna use those?" You asked, pointing to them.

The cashier glanced at the woman and raised her eyebrow. "Not if you have a better use for them."

The bell jangled as you walked out of the store with a shopping bag around your wrist and a ketchup packet in each hand. Just as suspected, the woman grabbed your arm.

"Oh, honey!" She exclaimed. "Before you leave, god put it on my mind to say a little prayer for the unborn soldier he's gifted you in your womb."

"I'd rather you not." You said, trying to yank your arm out of her surprisingly strong grip.

"You're brave, but foolish, girl." She barked, positioning herself in front of you. You fidgeted with the ketchup packets behind your back, opening them just enough.

The woman put both her hands on your belly. The second you felt her touch, you threw yourself backwards. You landed, not without pain, squarely on your ass.

"Oh my?" The woman covered her mouth with her fingertips. "Are you--"

You leaned forward and moaned in pain, clutching your baby bump with one hand while drenching your shorts in ketchup with the other. You pretended to cave around the pain, then threw yourself back, revealing a bloody stain leaking from between your legs. The woman shrieked.

"Oh my fucking god!" The cashier from the store said, rushing to your side. She put her hand on your shoulder and glared at the woman. "What did you do?!?"

"She pushed me and I think it hurt my baby!" You wailed.

"Holy shit, why would you hurt her baby?!" The cashier shouted, allowing you to slink your arm around her shoulder for support. She then snatched your shopping bag from the ground.

"I didn't mean to, honest!" She said, on the verge of tears. "I was just trying to spread god's love and joy-"

"By assaulting a pregnant woman?!" The cashier yelled. You were clutching your stomach in fake pain. She helped you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to the clinic."

You conjured up some fake tears. "You killed my baby!"

"You wicked woman!" She cried out. Her voice faded out as you approached the clinic. "You don’t deserve a baby!"

You kept up the crying and wailing until you arrived at the Planned Parenthood. More interested in covering her own ass than begging for forgiveness, the crazy woman made herself scarce. Entering the clinic with an incriminating bloodstain on your pants was awkward, for a moment. But it was easy enough to explain and even earned a laugh or two from the doctors on staff.

Once you were completely certain the crazy lady had left, you scooped up your shopping bag, said goodbye to the cashier and climbed into the car.

Before you put the key in the ignition, you took a moment. You took a moment to do something you knew you shouldn't have.

You placed your hand on your belly and stroked it. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

You didn't know why you paused. It wasn't like the fetus was going to answer.

"Sorry you had to see that." You said. "Or, I guess, hear that. I wish I could tell you that people aren't really like that in real life, but I can't. Either that or I'm just a magnet for insane people. Hope that it's not genetic."

It just occurred to you that, if your obstetrician was right, the fetus heard everything that you said about killing it. Logically speaking, you knew it wasn't developed enough to comprehend what you were saying, but you still felt like you owed it an apology.

"Hey, scamp." You said, appropriating a nickname your grandfather gave you. "I'm sorry that I talked all that shit back there. About killing you and whatnot. I don't want to kill you. I actually want you to live an amazing life."

Just then, you felt a kick. The doctor war right: there was no mistaking it. The baby kicked.

Your mouth hung dumbly open, delight and fear chasing each other around in your mind. "Holy crap!"

You drove home as fast as legally possible. You needed to get home. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that Hannibal's car wasn't there.

He'll be home any minute, you thought. Might as well stay out here to catch him when he arrives.

That was an hour ago. Not that you'd noticed. You would have sat in that car, talking to your baby for an eternity. It wasn't until you heard a tapping on the window did you exit your trance.

Hannibal examined the scene. The ketchup, the massive eevee and his suddenly very chatty fiancée shooting the breeze with her fetus. He smirked.

"Did we have a fun afternoon?"

[one-boring-person]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write more for Dutch from Predator? Lol it's me btw! I was wondering if it could be a hate to love relationship, where Dutch, being the hardass he is, can't live down his pride, and the reader (preferably female), is a strong independent woman who is actually Poncho's little sister, learning from the best. To add on, can the reader be short as Arnie is so tall, and because I am only 5'2" irl?

I kind of combined this with the enemies-to-lovers prompt request, I hope that's ok! I hope you like this!😊💛

Old Habits Die Hard.

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, mention of violence, alcohol consumption

Masterlist

"This round's on me, what does everyone want?" Mac announces as we go to sit down at the table, the mercenary remaining standing.

"A beer sounds good." Poncho says, looking at the rest of us.

We give words of agreement, taking our respective places at the table as Mac goes to leave the room and go to the bar.

"Don't forget a soda, I don't think they sell alcohol to underage people here." Dutch chips in, flashing a pointed look in my direction.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes, forcing a smile as the others chuckle, "A beer is fine, Mac. Thanks."

He nods, ducking from the room we rented out for the evening, leaving the five of us alone.

"So what's all this about, Dutch? Got us another job?" Blain questions, the gruff man leaning back in his chair, jaw working languidly at the gunk in his mouth.

"Yeah, but this one's a bit different." The major replies, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.

"Different? How?" Hawkins frowns, cokcing his head to the side.

Dutch takes a deep breath of smoke from the cigar, sitting back in his seat.

"An old friend from the army got in touch. Says he needs us for a rescue op."

"Friend from the army? Who?" I inquire, lifting an eyebrow.

"Old commander of mine." Dutch replies dismissively, barely sparing me a glance.

"Ok, where is the job?" Poncho asks, my brother shooting me a knowing look, his eyes flicking up as Mac walks in again, seven beers cradled in his arms.

"What job?" He asks as he places the bottles down on the table, looking round at us all.

"Dutch got us another op." Blain grunts, reaching out to take his beer, spitting the contents of his mouth out into the ashtray on the table. Hawkins, Poncho and I pull faces at that, but don't say anything.

"Another one? We only just got back!" Mac exclaims, taking a seat across from Hawkins, taking a sip from his beer.

"Perks of the job." Dutch shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Will you at least tell us what it is?" I can't keep the impatience from my voice, finding his vagueness irritating.

"I'm getting to it, (Y/n), calm down." He rolls his eyes, "It's in central America, somewhere in the jungle. Phillips was cagey about where exactly, but he said it's got something to do with guerrillas and hostages. We're supposed to get the hostages out of there."

"Sounds simple enough." Billy muses, rubbing his chin.

"When is it?" Poncho chips in, watching the major closely.

Dutch is quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking over us all, before he finally responds.

"It's tomorrow."

I nearly choke on my beer, spluttering as I sit upright in my chair.

"Tomorrow? Are you insane?!" I burst out, annoyed, "We got back from Afghanistan at the ass-crack of dawn today, and you want us to fly off to the jungle at the same time tomorrow? You trying to kill us or what?"

The others nod in agreement, murmuring their own complaints, only to shut up when Dutch turns a venomous glare on me.

"You know, if you spent half the energy you do on complaining on growing, you wouldn't look like a damn child anymore, (Y/n). Would make taking jobs a lot easier - means I don't have to explain why we've only got six and half mercs with us." He snaps, voice laced with anger, "I'm not insane, just practical. We all need more money, and the work is low at the moment. You'd know that if you weren't off lounging at home all day, letting us do the hard planning and prep work."

Silence descends on us all, my jaw dropping at the vehemence behind his words. No one speaks, letting the two of us stare at each other in hatred, my expression swiftly creasing into fury, every muscle in my body going tense.

Another moment passes, before I suddenly stand from the table, slamming my bottle on the table as I stalk past, heading straight out the door. Poncho tries to stop me, calling out to me, but I ignore him, practically seething as I leave the bar and stride to the car my brother and I came in. Unlocking it, I climb in and slam the door, buckling myself into the driver's seat as I throw the car into drive, pulling out onto the road. 

Furious, I drive way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of the traffic with no regard for my own safety as I careen down the highway. Screeching horns and tyres follow me as I go, but I ignore them, focusing instead on getting home, filled with anger now as Dutch's words play over and over in my head. 

It doesn't take long for me to pull up in the drive of my house, the car skidding on the loose gravel as I harshly jerk the handbrake into place, unbuckling myself before I climb out, making my way over to the door. Opening it, I go in and head straight to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to cool me down, knowing I need to calm down. I strip down quickly, quickly getting under the cold water with my fists clenched at my sides for a while, until I start to massage myself with my fingers, working out the knots in my muscles. It's pleasant, but I can still feel the anger burning in my system, so I swiftly leave again, wrapping myself in a towel. 

As I leave the bathroom, I hear a car pull up in the drive, the tyres crunching loudly on the gravel, announcing the newcomer's arrival. I dismiss it, chalking it up to it being Poncho, come to check up on me as the door downstairs opens, then closes, footsteps sounding in the hall as the person checks for me. The sounds are heavier than I thought they would be, and the identity of the person soon dawns on me.

Immediately, I feel the anger start racing through me again, my face creasing into a scowl until I force myself to calm down, at which point I turn and storm up to my bedroom. Going in, I start to rummage through my wardrobe, looking for some new clothes, trying to bite back the irritation rising in me as I hear the footsteps getting closer, the heavy boots not even halting as they reach the door. Within seconds, the wooden structure has been flung open, an angry mercenary standing in the space behind it.

"Ever learn to knock?" I snap at him as soon as I turn around, glaring at Dutch as he looms in the doorway, "Nevermind, you never learned manners period."

"Says the person who just stormed out of a bar." He scoffs, sneering at me as he steps into the room, "Talk about table manners."

"And whose fault is it I stormed out in the first place?" I glower at him, holding my towel in place as he continues forward, the glint in his eyes sparking a blazing heat inside me.

"Oh, so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?" Dutch jabs his finger at his chest before pointing it at me, brow furrowed in anger.

"You have a pretty poor idea of a joke, asshole." I spit back, lifting my finger up in his face as we step closer together, less than a foot away from each other now.

"You're the only one who thinks so, short-ass." He glares down at me, making me all too aware of how he towers over me.

Swallowing tightly, I shift uncomfortably.

"Sure about that? I can't be the only one who thinks your height jokes are getting old." I reply venomously, jabbing my finger at his chest.

He laughs humorlessly.

"Oh, but we both remember a time when you used to love playing into your shortness." His voice drops an octave, eyes boring into me, "I had you on your knees more than once with only standing over you. Remember?"

A flare of lust goes through me at the reminder, flashes of him looming over me as he pounded his cock harder and harder into my waiting mouth coming, unbidden, to mind. I'd always liked the sight of his muscular body above mine, as well as the feelings of his large hands wrapped around me, even if it was simply to hold my head still whilst he fucked it. 

"That was months ago." I hiss back at him, barely able to look up at him - if I do, it'll be too much like the memories in my head and I'll give in to the urges of my body. Already I can feel arousal pooling in my panties, my cheeks flushing as I realise this.

"Old habits die hard." Dutch growls, before swiftly reaching out to tear the towel away, exposing me to him. Before I can protest, however, he's taken hold of me and lifted me against the wall, pinning me roughly in place with his body, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His lips crash into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues ensuing as we kiss like we used to, wet sounds filling the air as we press closer and closer together. Soft sounds of need escape me, but they're swallowed by the ravenous major above me, who licks and nips at my lips, a few grunts leaving him as he does so. 

Moving to pull him closer, I moan loudly as Dutch jerks his hips into mine, using them to hold me in place, his arousal pressing at my clit through his trousers. I have to bite back whines at the feeling of the rough fabric against my unprotected clit, my slick soon covering the crotch of his jeans as he rolls his hips into me. One of his hands moves to palm roughly at my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two calloused fingers, his other hand grasping my ass, which he squeezes tightly. Whimpering into his mouth, I take my nails down his back, grinding my sensitive clit down onto him, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from the stimulation. 

Months and months of pent up lust pour through the kiss, only breaking as Dutch pulls back to yank his shirt off, revealing his muscular yet scarred torso to me. Instantly, I go to lick and kiss at the toned muscles, only to yelp indignantly as he takes hold of my hair and jerks my head back, growling as he fastens our lips together again. He presses closer, crushing me against the wall with his huge body, grinding his arousal into me with vigour, only to suddenly pull away, keeping me in his arms. In seconds, Dutch has thrown me on the bed, standing at the end with his hands on his belt. 

Biting my lip, I eagerly move to help him, but he pushes me back down roughly, wasting no time in pulling his trousers and underwear down, revealing his leaking cock to the air. I moan at the familiar sight of it, eyeing up the veined length keenly, following it from the base to the reddened tip, watching as precum beads there. 

Dutch doesn't give me long to admire him, climbing over me and pressing himself against me as soon as he's exposed, his lips moving to my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, biting at sensitive points as he goes, licking over them briefly each time to soothe them, every movement extracting a needy whine from me. One of his hands moves down to his cock, which he takes hold of and runs through my slick folds, coating the tip generously as he supplies pleasure to me. With every pass over my clit, I moan and rock up into him, clutching at his back. 

"Fuck me, Dutch. Show me how much bigger you are." I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist.

As he hears my words, however, Dutch growls, leaning back, making my legs fall from where they were. I whine at the lack of contact until he rolls me onto my front, grabbing hold of my ass to knead and grope. 

"I'll show you alright." He practically snarls in my ear as he bends back over me, moulding his huge body to my smaller frame, hands jerking my ass into his hips. He grinds himself into me for a moment, building my pleasure further as he bites at the back of my neck, sending bolts of electricity through me, which I respond to by rocking back onto him. 

With a final grunt, Dutch lines himself up with my hole, surging forwards into me in one stroke, stretching me out as he goes. A half-scream leaves my throat as I feel his cock slide over every sensitive spot inside me, my walls clenching deliciously around him, every vein rubbing against me. He gives me no time to adjust, pulling out entirely before slamming back into me, setting a hard, fast pace that has me seeing stars in no time. Ecstasy races through me, a knot tightening swiftly in my abdomen at the feeling of his thick cock pounding into me. 

Dutch straightens after a moment, taking my hip in one hand whilst he presses my face into the bed with the other, using me as leverage to shove his cock as far into me as he can go, grunting and groaning behind me in pleasure and need. Under his grip, I feel totally immobile, but the thought of him using me to work out his anger sends me reeling, my walls clenching tightly around him, tearing a moan from his lips. His name falls from my own, almost like a mantra as he slams into me, sending bolts of pleasure through me, bringing me closer and closer to what I really want. 

"So close, Dutch...keep going, oh fuck, you're so good…" I moan out, my words muffled slightly by the bed, though they are audible enough for him.

A whine of displeasure echoes from my chest as he suddenly pulls out, my pussy throbbing at the loss. He doesn't wait long, though, rolling me back onto my back before he hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, thrusting roughly back into me. With the new angle, whole other waves of pleasure ripple through me, his cock hitting the very spot that brings me crashing towards an orgasm. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, along with obscenely wet noises and moans from the two of us, both too caught up in the moment to care about what comes after.

"You're getting tighter, (Y/n)...gonna cum for me, are you?" Dutch groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as my pleasure rapidly builds, "Come on, (Y/n), cum for me!"

With a final scream of ecstasy, the tension inside me snaps and I cum, hard, my walls clenching like a vice around him. White light blinds me, everything disappearing around me as the pleasure floods through me in a great torrent, rendering me incapable of moving momentarily. 

Vaguely, I feel Dutch pound into me a few more times before he pulls out and cums over my stomach, letting out a roar of satisfaction at the sensation, his hand wrapped around himself, jerking his cock desperately. Breathing heavily, he milks himself dry before he slumps over me, smearing the sticky substance between us, the two of us left breathless in the throes of our pleasure. 

"Still as good as I remember." He hums, rolling off of me to lie beside me.

"Could say the same thing." I sigh, trailing a finger through his cooling cum, grimacing at the sight of it.

Groaning, I heave myself up, taking the towel up from the floor.

"Where are you going?" Dutch asks, still lounging on the bed.

"Shower. You should, too." I inform him, moving to leave, only to stop still as the door swings open.

"(Y/n)? Who are you- oh." Poncho blushes a deep red, grimacing as he swiftly ducks back out of the room. 

"Oh shit…" I groan, putting my head in my hands, unable to bite back a small smile.

With just grins, leaning back on his hands.

"Oops."

-

Tag list: @nightime-luna-fairy

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 13

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Explain again why you’re doing this to yourself, Mulder?” Byers asks with a pained look of concern.

He’s sifting through his closet, deciding what would be appropriately friendly for his outing with Scully. What kind of outfit says “I have no intention of trying to seduce you,” but also doesn’t leave him looking unworthy of seduction?

“I wish I knew, Byers,” he says as he pulls out his Greys jersey. Sports attire is very casual, but Val had once told him that he was devastatingly sexy in this jersey, so he tugs it off the hanger and puts it on over his white T-shirt. “I guess the idea of never seeing her again is even worse than being around her and knowing we’ll never be more than friends.”

Byers shakes his head slowly. “You’re a glutton for punishment, Mulder. Are you sure you aren’t secretly holding out hope that you can steal her away?”

Mulder buttons up the jersey and considers the question, his mouth quirked to the side. “I mean, I’m not actively trying to do anything, she’s way too smart for that and she’d see right through it. But the hope is there, sure.”

Byers nods sadly. “Well, good luck. Here are the keys, by the way.” He pulls a small key ring from his pocket and hands it to Mulder, who deposits it into his jeans pocket.

“Thanks, Byers, I appreciate the favor. I owe you one,” he says, clapping the man on the back.

After Byers is gone he brushes his teeth, considers and then decides against pounding a beer to calm his nerves, then says goodbye to Priscilla and heads to the Hoover building.

Scully is early, leaning against the passenger side door of her car when he pulls into the lot. He lets out a pained moan when he sees her, clad in flared jeans and a peasant-style flowered top that is cinched under her breasts. While he knows that realistically no human is perfect, Scully is about as close as it gets. He tries not to imagine what she’s got on under there, lest he embarrass himself.

He pulls up beside her and she opens the door, smiling at him shyly as she lowers herself into the passenger seat.

“Hi,” she says, and just the greeting makes his heart ache.

“Hey,” he returns with what he hopes is a casual, friendly smile. Do not leer at her. Do not gaze. He’s been giving himself frequent reminders.

“So, what do you have planned?” she asks as she pulls the seatbelt across her lap.

Mulder smirks in reply, backing out of the lot. “All in good time,” he says, and she gives him an appraising look.

“I’m not even sure why I’m instilling so much trust in you here, Mulder. Don’t push it,” she says with a playful tone, though it’s clear there’s some truth to the statement.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you the preliminary details,” He acquiesces. “First we’re going to The Queen Vic, which has the best fish and chips in DC, in my humble opinion. Have you been there?”

She shakes her head.

“Perfect. Then we’ll head down to the wharf and get some ice cream.” He suddenly wonders if he’s made incorrect assumptions about what she likes, and casts her a concerned glance at a stoplight. “Do you like ice cream?”

She looks at him like he has three heads. “Who doesn’t like ice cream?”

He feels a little wave of relief. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who doesn’t like ice cream,” he replies, “but frankly, whoever they are, I have no interest in knowing them.”

She chuckles and there it is again, that ache in his chest. He wonders if it will fade over time.

The Queen Vic isn’t very busy just yet, given that they’re having an early dinner. They are seated at a small, dimly lit booth and each order a beer, fish and chips. Scully opts for an IPA and he feels a retroactive flush of embarrassment at the beer he served her, now knowing what her tastes are. She’s looking around, taking in the ambiance and British paraphernalia papering the walls, and he is looking at her. The cut of her top reveals the soft swell of her breasts, pale and inviting. Even her neck is beautiful, smooth and long and god, he wants to kiss it. Has he ever been taken with someone’s jawline before? Well he has now. Devastatingly beautiful, she is. Ache. Ache. Ache.

She’s looking at him now, and he smiles guiltily, having been caught. Fuck. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. She bites her lip and fiddles with the salt shaker as though she’s not entirely sure what function it serves. What would a friend do? What would a friend ask? He needs to act like a friend, if he wants to be one.

“So, how’s wedding planning going?” he asks, the words feeling sour in his mouth.

She gives him a quizzical expression. “It’s okay. Fine, I guess.”

He nods. “And how’s Ethan?”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Um...fine. He’s fine. Mulder...why are you asking me about that? About the wedding, and Ethan?”

He dips his chin a bit, giving the pepper shaker a similar assessment. “I guess I just figured if we’re friends, a friend would ask about things like that?” He chances a glance at her and her expression is sympathetic, perhaps even pitying.

“You don’t need to do that, Mulder. We don’t have to talk about my relationship to be friends.” She’s running her finger over the condensation on the side of her glass, and he finds it disturbingly arousing.

“Fair enough, how’s work? Is that a better topic?” He is rewarded with a smile. My god that smile. She could melt permafrost with that smile.

“Work is great, no complaints,” she says coolly, an apparently genuine answer.

They drink, and eat, and talk. They talk about why she loves teaching, and how she got into pathology. He shares a bit about his methods for starting and then adjusting a criminal profile. They talk about med school, and his time at Oxford. He tells her about Phoebe and she admits a proclivity towards dating older men, with the exception of Ethan. It is so easy between them, and so right. He wants to scoop her up and steal her away in his car. Take her to a faraway place where there is no Ethan, where they can see this thing through. He notices how she often tries to hide her smiles, and the major role her eyebrows play in her facial expressions. She has a little mole above her lip that she’s attempted to cover with makeup, and her fingernails are perfectly manicured, like she has them professionally done. He wonders if she has tattoos, or piercings. If her bellybutton is an innie or an outie. If she prefers breakfast or dinner. If she likes morning sex. If she trims her pubic hair or takes it all off. He wants to know her, every bit. But he can’t. He never will. It hurts to think about it.

He drives them down to the wharf and they get ice cream cones from a stand near the water; she picks cookies and cream and he opts for rocky road. The evening is warm but not uncomfortable, the sun holding steady as it makes its descent towards the horizon. These are the dog days of summer, the daylight stretching well into the evening. No cover of darkness for a lover’s confession, not that he has any business making one. Friends meeting in daylight, above board. Never anything more.

They walk along the boardwalk, continuing their conversation between sweet licks, and he avoids watching her, but not entirely successfully. He must have been putting too much effort towards not staring and too little towards rotating his cone, because suddenly his ice cream flops over the side of its perch and lands on the ground with an audible smack.

He stops walking and stares at the now empty cone in his hand for a beat, and then he hears her giggling. When he looks over to her, she has her hand firmly planted over her mouth while she struggles to contain her laughter, the titters shaking her shoulders gently. The resulting swell of affection is overwhelming.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” he says dryly, and she works even harder to stop laughing, her face contorting into a grimace as tears pool in her eyes, shaking her head as though she could possibly deny her amusement.

He chucks his cone into a nearby trash can, then approaches her.

“Looks like you’ll have to share yours with me,” he says, moving his hand as though to take her ice cream, and she pulls it away with an open-mouthed expression of shock.

“Get out of here, it’s not my fault you licked yours right off the cone,” she says, wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

“Come on, Scully, friends share, don’t they?” he teases, maneuvering around to where she’s moved her arm, swiping at it playfully.

“Mulder, knock it off,” she replies, still smiling, and they are now moving in circles, him towards her ice cream while she artfully moves it out of his grasp.

Suddenly he swoops behind her, his long arms circling her waist and pulling her flush against him, pinning her stationary while he wraps his hand around her wrist and brings her ice cream cone to his own mouth. She shrieks in protest as he steals a big bite, and once he’s accomplished his goal, he becomes aware of their proximity. The feel of her pressed against him, the taper of her waist under his forearm, the smell of her shampoo in his nose. He grips her tighter, ever so briefly, but then releases her suddenly. He has no right. He crossed a line. She steps forward slowly, turning to look at him with pink cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, his arms dropping to his sides, woefully empty. Missing her already.

She shakes her head gently. “It’s okay,” she says, and they continue walking.

As they approach his car, the sun is just beginning to kiss the horizon. It’s nearly 8:30.

“This was really fun, Mulder, thank you,” she says with a shy smile, and he grins at the affirmation.

“There is one more thing I had planned, Scully, unless you have to get home right away,” he says cautiously, and she regards him with surprise, but not unpleasantly so.

“I don’t know, let me call my mother and see if I can stay out past curfew,” she jokes, but then adds “I suppose I’m curious to see what else you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“Great, let’s go,” he replies as he opens the car door for her.

———

She watches streetlights racing past as Mulder drives them to their final destination and feels a swell of guilt for how wonderful this night has been, then tries to talk herself out of it. She’s done nothing wrong, nothing inappropriate. She’s allowed to have dinner and ice cream with a man who is not her fiancé; he doesn’t own her. Given, the moment with the ice cream cone was a bit more flirtatious than might be ideal, but they were caught up in the moment. She tries not to remember the feel of his compact body pushed against her back, the strength of his arm around her waist. Tries not to imagine how it would feel to have him hold her like that without their clothes on. She closes her eyes and swallows.

They pull up in front of a darkened sports complex and she turns to look at him, questions communicated through her eyes.

“You don’t have something more worthwhile to do right now than slap a horsehide with a stick do ya, Scully?” he says with a smirk.

Her eyebrows lift. “Perhaps not, Mulder, but it looks like they’re closed.”

“A mere technicality,” he replies as he parks right in front of the main entrance, not even in a parking spot.

They approach the doors and he produces a set of keys from his pocket, holding the door open for her before he locks it behind them. There are security lights faintly illuminating the shuttered games and concessions, and she startles a little when she feels him slip his hand into hers, pulling her towards a hallway. His hand is broad and slightly callused, and she unconsciously threads her fingers through his. He glances at her, a slight cast of surprise in his features, but doesn’t say anything.

When they reach a large room, he flips on the lights and she sees rows of batting cages, five or six lined up on either side of a walkway down the middle.

“Are we supposed to be in here?” she asks him suspiciously, and he shrugs.

“The cops aren’t going to roll up or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says as he gathers a bucket of balls and two bats. “Even if they did, a couple FBI badges should send them off right quick.” He winks at her and she feels a flutter in her belly.

He motions for her to follow him to one of the cages, and she waits nervously while he loads the pitching machine and turns it on. When he turns around, he sees her trepidation and smiles warmly at her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he says reassuringly, and she forces her mouth into a tight smile.

He directs her to stand just outside the cage and demonstrates for her how the pitching machine works, talking her through his stance and movements for seven or eight pitches. He hits every single one, sending the ball crashing into the back wall with a padded smack, and she has the unsettling feeling that she’s about to embarrass herself.

“Alright, batter up!” he says, handing her the bat and sending her in.

She gives him a doubtful look.

“It’s easy, you’ll get the hang of it,” he encourages her, then shows her where to stand before he steps out and starts the pitching machine.

When the first pitch sails by, she winces and lets out a little squeak, but doesn’t swing. She can hear Mulder chuckle a little, but waits for the next one. When it comes, she swings way too early, and it flies past her head and bounces off the back wall. Three or four complete misses later, she looks at him woefully.

“I’m terrible at this, Mulder,” she whines.

He shakes his head and smiles at her.

“You just need some minor adjustments,” he offers, then comes inside the cage. He steps up close behind her and she startles a little at the contact.

“Sorry, is this okay? It’s the best way to show you,” he offers, and she nods, the back of her head brushing against his shoulder with the movement. He’s just showing her how to hit a stupid baseball. It’s the least romantic thing on earth, as far as she’s concerned.

He steps close again, wrapping his arms around hers as the length of his torso presses firmly against hers from her shoulder blades right down to her ass. She can feel his breath hot on her ear as he speaks.

“Now don’t strangle the bat, Scully, just shake hands with it,” he says as their palms brush over one another, vying for real estate. “We want to go hips before hands,” he continues, “stride forward, and then turn.” He motions with a hand in front of her towards the pitching machine, and she nods in confirmation. “It’s hips,” he places an open palm against her hip bone and physically turns her torso. She feels a rush between her thighs. “Before hands,” he replaces his hand on the bat and guides them through a mock swing.

“Okay,” she says, taking a steadying breath.

“Again, that’s hips,” there his palm is again, hot and firm and pressing into her flesh as he tilts her pelvis forcibly, “before hands. What is it?”

“Um, hips before hands,” she says breathily, resisting an overwhelming urge to press her ass back harder into his lap, to slip that hand beneath the waistband of her jeans so she can feel it on her bare skin. She has a vision of her riding him on the floor as the pitching machine flings balls aimlessly against the back wall, no one caring enough to hit them. She shivers.

“We’re gonna wait on the pitch, keep our eye on the ball, and then we’re just gonna make contact. We’re not gonna think, we’re just gonna let it fly, Scully, okay?”

“Okay,” she says shakily, her heart thrumming in her chest.

They take several swings, the bat making contact with the ball with a sharp crack. Mulder is murmuring in her ear about letting your mind go blank and forgetting about all your worries, but she’s too distracted by the heat of his body and the smell of his aftershave to hear him. If not for the risk of getting pelted by a ball, she just might turn in his arms, push him up against the wire-fence walls of this batting cage, and show him how she prefers to handle bats and balls.

The grip of his hands over hers on the bat pinches the skin around her engagement ring and she jerks. Mulder steps away from her a bit.

“You okay?” he asks, and she nods.

“Um, maybe I should try by myself now. Thanks for showing me,” she says without looking at him, and he steps back into the walkway to watch her. She hits the next three balls, then turns to smile at him victoriously. The pain and longing in his expression makes her heart sink.

After shutting the place down, they drive back to the Hoover building in relative silence, tension hanging thick between them like a curtain. He puts the car in park and gets out, walking her to the door of her own car, which strikes her as unnecessary. She stands by the open door, sensing that there’s something he wants to say.

“Scully….” he stops and shakes his head gently, talking himself out of it.

“What?” she asks, desperately wanting to know what he was going to say.

He clenches his jaw, fighting an inner battle.

“Scully, I know I shouldn’t say this to you. I know that you’re...with someone. I just-” he purses his lips, then closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, his eyes are so full of emotion it makes her breath catch in her chest. “I think about you all the time. Every second of every day.”

“Oh,” she responds lamely. There’s that urge again, the one she has to resist. “You seem like the kind of guy that believes in reincarnation, Mulder,” she says softly.

He gives her a quizzical look. “I don’t NOT believe in it,” he offers.

She smiles sadly at him, reaching out to grasp his hand and give it a brief squeeze. “Maybe in another life,” she says, then climbs into her car and shuts the door.

As she drives home, tears run down her cheeks freely. If she had to identify a reason for them, grief would be the closest one.

[fishnets-fingers]

Six Months - Part Two

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

a/n - Please like and reblog. This part is a little filthy.

Word Count - 3.9k

Warnings - smut.

Masterpost (previous part found here)

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Abi says as Layla trudges through the living room.

“Ugh.. I feel like a zombie. My head hurts.” 

“Jet lag. It’ll pass. Here.” Her Uncle puts a bowl of Oatmeal in front of her. They all eat in silence.

“So, Layla, the housewarming is on Sunday and we need to go to pick up some groceries and some party supplies. You up for a trip with me?”

“Fuck yeah, you know I love grocery shoping. Can you show me around town after?”

“Sure. Vasanth is gonna clean the house and then we deck up the picnic table in the backyard. We leave in fifteen. Sound, okay?”

“Done.” Layla puts her dish in the dishwasher and then heads up to her room to change into some light blue jeans and an oversized black t shirt. She laces up her sneakers and waltzes into her Aunt and Uncle’s room and plops down on their bed and scrolls through her social media. 

“Alright, come on. A tour of the house and then we hit the road?”

“Hmm.”

After a tour of the house - which was a three floors, five bedrooms, six baths, and a spatial kitchen that Layla couldn't wait to start cooking in. The backyard was expansive, and her Uncle was already setting up the grill.

///

Layla and her Aunt lug all their grocery bags into the car and pick up a few decorations that could spruce up the backyard. They both put their seatbelts on. “How about we pick up some flowers from the florist and you can make some cute arrangements that I can place all around the house?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really done one in a while. Might not look as good.” Layla says.

“Come on, kutti, you are good at it and you know it. Now, come on, please. I really loved the one you gave me for my engagement.”

“Actually, your husband gave that to woo you. I merely made it.”

Abi chuckles. “Alright, my then fiancé gave it to me. But look it clearly worked. I even let him  put a ring on it.” Her Aunt does the Single Ladies hand dance.

Layla laughs. “ You didn’t have a choice! You were already engaged to be married. It was an arranged marriage. He would have put that ring on you regardless. But okay, I’ll try my hand with the arrangements, but I need to pick up a few craft supplies if you want me to.”

///

Her Aunt parks the car downtown, and pays the meter. They walk around a few shops and Layla has a chance to explore. It’s quite quaint. They have lunch at the outdoor seating area at a small local café. Layla gets fish and chips with some steamed veggies. Abi gets a vegetarian burger. 

“I’ve watched a few stand up comedians talk about the waiters being overly nice in America. I thought it was just some stupid stereotype but lord, that waiter was nicer to me in the two minutes he talked to me than my own parents have my entire life.”

Abi laughs. “They mostly rely on tips to make a living here.”

“That sucks balls.” Layla says.

The waiter comes back with their food. They both say their thank yous and he leaves them be.

“Okay. The portion sizes in this country are astronomical. I can’t eat so much.”

“Eat whatever you can. We can take the leftovers back home to Vasanth. In fact I’ll get him this salad he really likes with black beans. Here take a bite off of my burger.”

Layla takes a bite of the burger and offers some of her fish and chips. “The tartare dip is amazing.” They finish their lunch and walk to the flower shop.

Layla sees a middle aged woman in scrubs talking to the elderly man behind the counter through the front glass.

“Oh, look! That’s Anne Twist. She’s British. She lives next door with her son, he’s about your age, I think. She’s the kindest woman. She’s been so welcoming and warm. She let me use her bathroom and got me something to eat when I used to come over to inspect the house as it was being built. She’s a nurse at the university hospital.”

They push the door open and a bell chimes, signalling their presence. The two in the shop turn towards the door.

“Hello, Anne. Hello, Earl.” Abi says. “How have you two been? Quite the nice summer, huh?”

“Oh, yes. Better than England, darling.”

“Hello Abi! Who is the young lady you have here with you?” The elderly gentleman Earl says. 

Layla smiles awkwardly at the two of them and waves. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Layla, my niece. She’s come here for a vacation and to spend some time with us. We’re actually here, so we could pick up some flowers, so she could make some form of an arrangement for tomorrow.”

“Well, hello, there pretty lady.” Earl says. He exuded a kind disposition. He had a head of white curly hair that was trimmed short, square shaped glasses that rested on his face. He was African American. He had a yellow shirt and with some suspenders.

“Hi.” Layla says nervously as she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She turns to Anne and says, “It’s lovely to meet you Ms. Twist.”

“Lovely to meet you, dear. Your Aunt and Uncle were so excited that you were coming to visit them. How old are you?”

“Twenty two, Ms. Twist.”

“Please call me Anne, Layla.”

“You were studying to be a therapist, right?”

“Yup. I finished my Masters in counselling in April.”

“That's wonderful, Layla.” Earl says. “Back in my day we hardly ever went to college. I signed up with the army when I turned eighteen. Retired and now I have this flower shop.”

“That’s so interesting! You went from a life of constantly being on edge and chose a life of stillness and peace following that. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you by the way?”

“Seventy two. Why? You wanna take this handsome man on a date?”

Layla laughs. “Oh, Earl, if only you were two years younger.”

This cracks the three of them up. 

“I’ll see you both tomorrow at your house.” Anne says. “I came to drop off Earl’s heart medicine from the chemist. Nice to meet you Layla! I hope to get to know you better. Bye everyone,” with that she leaves.

“Alright, Layla, what flowers do you need?”

////

The two come back home around two thirty in the afternoon. The rest of the day goes by with the three cleaning the house, decorating their backyard and prepping food for tomorrow. The three plop on the couch with some dinner and switch on the TV and put on Chopped. 

“How many people are coming over tomorrow?”

“About fifteen. Some of our friends from work with their partners-their kids, Earl, Anne, and a few other neighbours.” Abi replies.

“I’m gonna be on the grill all day. Layla, you are making your famous calamari, right? Can you also make drinks?” Vasanth says.

“Hmm. I can make some virgin lemon mint mojitos and maybe some margaritas.” Layla replies.

“What are your plans for your time here, kutti?”

“Vasanth, she’s come here for a break. Stop it huh.”

“No, it’s not a problem. I’m actually gonna write a few papers and get them published. One of my professors is going to go on a maternity break in November, so they’ve asked me to sub in for her. I’ll have to handle three papers; don’t know how it’s gonna  work out with the time difference. They said they will give me 8 am slots. So, that’s gonna be about 10:30 pm here - the lectures only last an hour, so that won’t be a problem. Plus, it’s only Monday through Wednesday.”

“Well, don’t overwork yourself. Remember you are on a break till early next year.” Her Aunt says, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah. Pick up some of your hobbies. I haven’t seen you pick up a video game or do something artsy in forever. You were the most creative kid I know. I’m planning a weekend trip for us to Smoky Mountains in September.” Her Uncle says.

“Like for your anniversary? Eww nope. I’m not joining in on that. You two lovebirds can go alone.”

“Why would we want the most cynical, love loathing person tagging along with us on our anniversary trip?”

“Heeeey. You can’t say that about a child.”

“Last time I checked, twenty two was not a child.”

“Alright, pipe down the two of you. Just a fun trip with your Uncle and Aunt. We actually are going to Raleigh for our anniversary weekend. I hope it’s okay with you staying here alone.” Her Aunt says.

“No problem at all. You two love birds have fun. I’m excited to be by myself.”

They chat for a few hours and decide to go to bed early around nine. Layla puts on a random playlist on Spotify, sticks her Airpods in and gets to work unpacking her bags.

////

Harry had a good Saturday. He had some oatmeal in the morning. Locked his bedroom door, set up his ring light, put on his maid outfits, and started taking some pictures. He doesn’t really show his face on any of the pictures he posts. He supposed it didn’t matter because his left arm and torso are littered with tattoos. He did edit out a few of them, to be extra cautious.

People would find it weird that a man would wear a maid outfit; he’s been teased for being a little “feminine” his whole life. He was just a metro guy, he liked fashion - didn’t mind picking up a shirt or two from the women’s aisle, has rings for almost all his fingers, paints his nails, and he’s pretty quiet. People in his school always bullied him for that and most of them thought he was gay. But that soon changed when girls flocked to him, his macho bullies didn’t really understand why and that added fuel to the fire. It was not his fault that he was a gentleman and treated women right, and those dummies acted like assholes. Clothes are just clothes and if there was one thing he knew for certain is that Harry likes vaginas.

Throughout the day, Harry couldn’t help peering out his window into his neighbour’s room. He wanted to see that girl from last night. Every time he looked into an empty room, he felt a slight disappointment. 

His mum walked into the house as he was curled up on the couch with a blanket and some leftovers from last night. “Hi, darling.”

“Hey. How was work for you?”

“Exhausting. I went to drop off Earl’s refills after my shift and ran into our neighbour, Abi. She had her niece with her. Layla, such a pretty young woman; intelligent too, she has a masters. She was a shy little thing initially, but then opened right up. Can’t wait to go over tomorrow and have some fun.” Anne sits on the couch next to her son.

“Speaking of that, do I really have to go?”

“Yes, it’ll do you good. You hardly have any friends here. In the past year and the only time you socialized, what two times, you went out when your peers from Earth Watch came to town and when Mitch and Sarah flew in from England for their winter break. You need to meet people and make friends your own age, darling.”

“It’s no fun socialising with friends without alcohol. This country really needs to change their drinking age.”

“I’m sure that did you good, Harry Styles. You went on three pub crawls in a span of two weeks when you were seventeen. I was worried you might turn into an alcoholic. That internship in Canada really did you good.”

“Alcoholic?!? Mum, I was at the top of the class with an internship.  I just wanted to let off steam once in a while. Plus, I’ve cracked a few bottles open with the researchers in the Arctic Circle.”

Anne gasps and Harry smirks. “Anyway, I don’t want to go because people are going to ask me what I do and I really don’t want to get into all that or have to lie all day.”

“You mean, you don’t wanna tell them that you sell pictures on OnlyFans and earn more than your mum, who is a clinical specialist nurse?” Anne says jokingly. Harry told her about him creating content for OnlyFans a month after he started. Although, Anne didn’t totally understand at first, Harry told her that it was a way for him to save up money for college and that he wanted to be financially independent. She was mostly worried about Harry’s safety. Harry told her that he does not post his face or anything that could compromise on his privacy. She took his word for it. It’s been almost a year now since Harry started posting on OnlyFans.

“Mum!”

“I’m kidding. Tell them, what I tell my colleagues, you are a content creator that works for different websites. A freelancer, of sorts. Come on, darling, it’ll be good for you to go out and make friends. Who knows maybe you and Layla will become as thick as thieves.”

After devouring some Chinese takeout, Harry heads up to his room at ten. He powers on his laptop to edit the pictures he took earlier. He is distracted by some movement in his periphery. He looks up to find her, Layla, dancing around her room with her Airpods, carrying clothes from a pile on her bed. Her dancing is somewhat haphazard, like an eighty year old grandpa and a waddling penguin smushed together in a girl’s body. He smiles, a dimple popping smile. He tries to tear his eyes away from his window to concentrate on his task but his eyes keep drifting to her. Moments later, he starts to feel like a perv, so he shuts his blinds and takes his laptop over to his bed.

Harry curls into bed after editing a few pictures and queuing up a few posts on his OnlyFans for the coming week. He sleeps with a smile on his face, picturing Layla dancing around like a blithering idiot.

////

Layla hops out of the shower, gets dressed in her PJs and calls home. After an hour of talking on the phone with her parents and grandparents, she says goodbye and gets into bed. She feels restless, and she thinks of the one thing she can do to tucker herself out. She pulls out her headphones, connects it to her phone. Looks around to see if her blinds are drawn and if her door is shut.

She starts scrolling through her Instagram, she replies to a few DM’s and schedules a video call with her friends the next night. She was scrolling through her explore page where she found a picture of someone in a very kawaii-esque maid outfit. She clicks on the profile, _h.e.s_, to find a few pictures that were censored with the caption “Sorry, OF only. Click on my bio.” She clicked on the picture she saw. It was taken in such a way that it looked like someone was looking down on a person. The person’s face was partially cut off, so it was just their mouth in frame. The person had their middle and index finger in their mouth in a seductive manner and the rest of the picture was just the person's torso with a very strappy maid dress on. Layla couldn’t take her eyes off the picture. Their arm was littered with tattoos, most of them blurred out, one tattoo that stood out was one of a mermaid. A mermaid with saggy tits. Finally, some representation. Layla was a short but curvy girl. She had thick thighs. Her boobs were quite big. Unfortunately, gravity had other plans. Her tits were quite saggy and it was something her mom used to point out quite often. The only thing peculiar about the tattoo was that her tail started mid thigh and her pubic area was on display. That’s an odd artistic choice; all the mermaids have tails from their hips. Weird.  As she zoomed in on the strappy dress, Layla could feel herself getting wet. 

She immediately closed Instagram and opened an incognito tab. “Porn is why you picked up your phone in the first place, fool,” she mutters as she puts on a video. Her hand slowly drifts into her shorts and starts to tease herself with her panties on. After a few moments, she slips her hand into her panties and she feels herself around. She collects some wetness from her entrance and spreads them up to her clit. She slowly starts rubbing circles on it. Soft whimpers leave her mouth as she keeps going.

“Nugh, shit.” She starts to rub herself faster and faster. Her phone is tossed aside, she barely pays any attention to the video. Her eyes are screwed shut and as her body starts to feel hot all over, the picture she saw comes to mind. She tenses up and writhes on the bed as she comes. She desperately tries to fight off that image but finds her mind focusing on more details, the fingers in the mouth, the tattoos on the forearm, the straps on the shoulders. She sticks her middle finger in her and uses her other hand to rub her clitoral hood from side to side.

“Fuck,” she moans quietly. She starts moving the middle finger in and out and curls them up finding her g spot and makes a come hither motion while rubbing herself at the same time. 

Breathy moans escape her as she thinks of putting that tattooed person’s fingers into her mouth and sucking on them. This sends her over the edge. She retracts her finger and presses the palm of her other hand on herself as she deals with the aftershocks.

As she comes back to herself, and on hearing the moans come from her headphones. She picks up her phone, closes the tab, switches on ‘do not disturb’ and throws her phone on the other side of her bed. She feels a sense of shame wash over her. She goes to the bathroom to clean up and wash her hands. Her middle finger was pruny. She settles under the covers and feels icky. She’s never rubbed one out to the thought of a real person. Usually she reads sumt or watches porn. She feels dirty, she never really fingered herself either. It had always made her feel uncomfortable - the only time she ever really stuck  her finger up her vagina was out of curiosity, so she always stuck to rubbing herself. Layla sighs and falls into an uncomfortable slumber.

////

The housewarming is in full swing. Her Uncle and Aunt’s friends first showed up with their spouses. A little girl, about five, was following Layla around. She may or may not have snuck some ice cream for the little one. People could not stop talking about the flower arrangements around the house. Vasanth was grilling some veggies and seafood. Abi was talking to the guests and showing them around. Layla was having fun. She exchanged pleasantries with the guests. She sipped on a margarita and brought out some napkins. The food was put on the picnic table, so the guests could help themselves to whatever they wanted to. Layla’s calamari was a hit.

 She mostly stuck to Earl, who walked in a little later. She got to know a lot about him. His sons, his grandkids, his wife who passed away two years ago, his childhood, his time in the army, and that his house was actually above the flower shop. 

She went up to her room to use the bathroom. She plopped on the bed and sighed looking at the ceiling. Socializing is so exhausting, she thought. Her phone buzzes and Layla fishes it out of her pocket to find her mum calling her. She knows that she’ll never hear the end of it if she does not pick up, so she does. She talks to her mom for about thirty minutes.

“There you are!” Abi says as Layla descends downstairs . “I’ve been looking everywhere. Everyone’s come. Anne was asking for you. You are the only one that’s left to eat.”

“Sorry, Amma (mum) called.”

Layla and her Aunt walk into the backyard. She sees a tall curly haired boy playing with the little girl. He’s running around and booping her nose in one hand while the other holds a glass of mojito. He’s barefoot, with some yellow shorts and a grey t shirt, a yellow snapback and thick framed white sunglasses. She smiles at the two of them running around.

“Layla!” She whips her head to where her name was being called.

“Ms. Twist! Hi! Nice  to see you again!” She says as she walks towards the lawn chairs, where she's sat with Earl.

“Call me, Anne, sweetheart. Earl was telling me that he should hire you to work for him. The arrangements look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you. I have a few flowers that I haven’t used. I can bring them over to yours later today, if that’s okay with you.”

“Thank you, Layla. Let me introduce you to my son.” She looks over at the boy and yells, “Harry!” 

Harry walks towards the two of you. “Layla, this is my son. Harry, this is Vasanth’s and Abi’s niece.”

His cheeks were tinged with pink.  “ Hi! Harry Styles.” He says and sticks his arm out. His accent is so bloody British, Layla thinks as she shakes his hand. His hand was warm.

“Layla Sathish. Wonderful to meet you.” She notices his left arm littered with tattoos. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah. We got here half an hour ago. The food was great! Loved the calamari.”

“You know, little Layla here made it,” Earl says. 

“I know,” Harry says with a smirk on his face. He lifts the sunglasses off his faces and perches them on the top of his head. Layla notices that his eyes resembled the forest.

“Ummm… so you don’t drink huh?” Layla asks, pointing to his mojito.

“Oh, I drink plenty.”

“Oh no, he does not. Considering you are only twenty, you are not allowed to drink here.” Anne says. 

“Mum!” He turns back to her. “To answer your question, I drink. Used to back home in London. Not so much here because of the legal age. Although mum lets me have a cheeky beer or two now and then.” Harry throws his left arm over Anne’s neck and pulls her in close to his chest.

“Do you?”

Layla’s eyes pop out of her head. 

No fucking way. It can’t be. Nooo, she thinks to herself. 

She stares at the mermaid tattoo on his forearm. The same tattoo; the same one that made her question it’s artistic merit last night.

“Layla?” Harry says waving his hand in front of her face.

“Sorry.” She clears her throat. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you drink.”

“Ummm… I- I do. Errr, had a glass of margarita uhhh.. a while ago.” Her face is hot. “I’m gonna go see if my Uncle needs a hand.” She gives them a small smile and walks away from them quickly.

“Ugh, kill me now. Fuck my life.” She muttered as she marched away from Harry as fast as she possibly can.

[rainboq]

Thank you for the prompt! Here's one in return. #3 (kiss on the cheek) pricefield

You asked for a kiss on the cheek, you get an entire date and Chloe being a massive disaster. Enjoy! Apologies in advanced for my nonexistent Spanish skills. I’m going insane. It’s just Max, why the hell am I going insane? Chloe sighs as she sits in her truck, one hand on the wheel while the other hovers over the send button on her phone. Fucking Rachel and her big ideas. Just ask her out Chloe, it’ll be fine Chloe, you’ve known her since you were a little kid Chloe. 

A little traitorous part of her wished that Max had just said no so she could get the rejection over and done with. Instead, her dorky little face with it’s stupidly cute dimpled smile and earnest eyes had light up like Chloe had told her that there was going to be new episodes of Hawt Dawg Man or something. And not, you know, a date with her dumb punk ass.

Just hit the damn button Chloe so you can blow this already and tell Rachel you told her so. There’s no way someone as smart and talented as Max wants anything to do with me. She’s just doing this for old time’s sake.

Her finger taps the button and she locks the screen so she can’t stare at it and ratchet her anxiety up higher.

Ha. As if she has any control over her anxiety right now.

Her phone buzzes with Max’s reply and she takes a few deep breaths to try and steady her nerves. Her usual go to right now would be smoking, but she forgot her damn pack at home like a dumbass in her flurry of getting ready. At least I didn’t fuck up Rachel’s makeup job.

Is Max even going to like me with this much makeup on? She knew me before I ever started wearing any.

She does an impromptu drum solo on her steering wheel to try and get some of her nervous energy out, to mixed success when her eyes spot movement in the lobby of Max’s building. She turns in her seat, gets a look at her and promptly forgets to breathe. Chloe had said to dress up a bit, and Max had taken the liberty of wearing a flowing black dress with some matching leggings. It’s not nearly as showy as the things Rachel wears to parties and events, but there’s something about the way her freckled shoulders look under the straps that makes her heart squeeze. Those damn freckles, why do they have to be so cute?! Dammit, breathe, don’t be a total dweeb in front of Max because she grew up and got hot.

Fuck she is hot though.

I’m so boned.

Max spots her truck as she pushes out through the inner door and a great big dorky smile spreads across her face as she waves enthusiastically. Chloe waves back and scoots across the bench seat to throw the passenger door open. A moment later Max is climbing in, all winning and too god damn adorable smiles. “Hey Chloe!”

“Uh, hey Max! You look… hella great.”

Max’s cheeks go a bit red as she hunches her shoulders forwards, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know about that, but you look amazing.”

There’s no part of Chloe’s stolen blazer and worn black jeans that qualify as amazing to her, but if Max likes it she’s not about to complain. “Thanks,” Chloe tries to say as smoothly as she can muster despite the slight wobble in her tone, “You down for some food?”

“I’m hella starving.” Max replies with a cheeky grin as she shuts her door. “I’m so down for this ‘best taco truck in town’.”

Rolling up to a dumpy taco truck in her old brick with someone as gorgeous as Max suddenly has Chloe feeling like Max really deserves a better first and probably only date, but plans are plans. “Then let your noble steed be off, fair maiden!”

Max breaks out in gigglesnorts as Chloe pulls out of the parking lot. “You did not just use one of William’s lines on me!”

“I so hella did Caulfield, what’re you gonna do about it?” Chloe adds a wink, hoping it’ll cover up how obviously sweaty as hell her palms are right now.

“Oh, I’ve got something in mind.” Max says in a low tone that makes Chloe have to fight to not choke on her own spit.

Oh god, is Max actually flirting with me? I’m so not fucking ready for this. “You down to thrash a bit hippie?”

“As long as your bony elbows don’t hit me!” Max replies with a laugh and Chloe punches the radio on.

The scratchy punk from the local station starts blaring and Chloe internally breathes a sigh of relief at not having to try and deal with Max’s flirting for a moment. Oh god, I can hear Rachel laughing her ass off at me right now.

Max for her part grooves along, and Chloe has to focus to avoid going off the road because of it. God she still dances like a total dork! Fuck, it should be illegal to be this cute or something.

Thankfully they make it to the taco truck without Chloe running into anything, despite her distracted driving, and she pulls them up to the sidewalk. I just hope she likes it or this is going to be a hella lame date.

“Hungry Max?” Chloe asks as she throws her door open after shutting off the radio.

“I’m so hungry, you have no idea.” Max replies as she does the same before sheepishly admitting, “I also kinda skipped lunch.”

Chloe jumps out of her truck and jogs around the front of it as Max clambers out. “Jesus Christ Caulfield, no wonder you ended up so short.”

“What! Hey! Not all of us get to be so freakishly tall.” Max groans and sticks out her tongue.

“Yup, it’s just my burden to bear. Now what do you wanna eat?”

“I mean, you know what’s good here.” Max shrugs as she walks alongside Chloe towards the food truck. “Order for me?”

“Spicy or nah?”

“No way, never spicy.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh at the way Max shakes her head and waves her hands in the air. Yup, still a total dork. “Can do Maximo. Just wait here.”

Chloe skips ahead a few steps and shouts out, “¡Hola Alejandro!”

There’s a clattering sound inside the truck and a middle-aged man’s face appears, “¡Aha! ¡Flaca! ¿Como estas?”

“Muy bien, gracias. ¿Y tú?”

“Bein.” He says with a nod and a big smile.

“Bien, quatro numero doce con polo por favor.” Chloe says, before turning to grin at Max who looks a little stunned.

Alejandro sticks his head out to see what she’s looking at before pulling back in and grinning broadly. “¿Tu amor?”

Chloe shrugs, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she rubs the back of her head. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I forgot how to say that in Spanish. Way to go dumbass.

Alejandro, to his credit, doesn’t need it spelled out for him as he pokes his head back out and calls out to Max, “¡Hola bonita!”

Max freezes up for a moment before doing a little wave back. “H-hola.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Alejandro grins at her, before retreating back into the food truck to start working on the order.

Chloe pulls out her wallet from her blazer’s pocket and takes out approximately the right amount of money plus tip and drops it on the counter before jogging back to Max with a big idiot grin on her face. “And that’s the food!”

“I guess I should probably learn some Spanish if I’m going to be living large in LA, huh?” Max asks sheepishly, doing that thing she used to do when they were kids where she’d hold her arm.

“Prolly a good idea,” Chloe says as she moves to stand next to Max. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“Maybe I should have brought a sweater, I always forget how cold it gets here when the sun goes down.”

“Here, stand next to me, the food should warm you up.” Chloe holds out her arm and Max doesn’t hesitate to tuck into her side.

A sort of silence settles in as Max hums softly to herself and chews on her lip while Chloe watches the window for the food. The pressure of Max against her feels good, great even, but it all feels so surreal. “I can’t believe we’re actually on a date.”

“Oh no?” Max giggles softly as she snakes an arm around Chloe’s waist, “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“How about the part where you said yes?”

“When I told my parents, my dad announced that Joyce and mom owe him fifty bucks.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe somehow manages to not stammer.

“They all had a bet, our dads bet that we’d date some day.”

Chloe turns her eyes heavenwards, where the few stars visible in LA are starting to poke out as the sun sets. I guess you’re smiling on my dumb ass from up there, huh dad?

“¡Loca!” Alejandro shouts from the truck as he puts their food out.

“That’s us.” Chloe says before reluctantly pulling away from Max, “we’ll eat in the back of my truck, meet me there?”

“Sure thing.”

Chloe trots over, grabs the two trays of food. Damn, dude threw in tortilla chips gratis, I fucking owe him a bigass tip next time I come.

Max waits for her, standing next to the now open tailgate. “After you, mademoiselle.”

“You know French?” Chloe asks with a cocked eyebrow as she slides the trays into the bed before climbing up.

“I picked up a couple things from an ex.” Max shrugs as Chloe turns, offers her a hand and hauls her up into the bed.

They end up sitting together at the far end, their backs resting against the cab as Chloe divides the food between them. “Eat up, short stuff.”

“Oh my god, stop making fun of my height you beanstalk!” Max laughs as she elbows Chloe.

Chloe just cackles as she pulls out her first taco and takes her first bite. Come on Chloe, it’s Max, but it’s still a date so don’t eat like a total fucking slob.

She waits until she’s actually finished her first mouthful and swallowed before turning to Max, “How is it?”

“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” Max mutters as she finishes her first mouthful, “Legit the best taco I’ve ever had.”

“Did I tell you or did I tell you?” Chloe grins in triumph before taking another bite of her taco.

They don’t talk much as they consume their tacos, they’re too tasty. Chloe finishes first and has to resist the urge to shout her victory like they did when they were kids having stupid eating contests. Instead, she starts popping tortilla chips into her mouth and just kind of watching Max while she waits.

Damn, I’ve seen her a bunch since she moved here and I still can’t get over how damn cute she got. Like even her ‘ugly duckling’ pics from high school look great. I can’t believe I missed out on her braces years though, damn, that would have been hilarious to be around for. That or I would have gotten in a lot of fights for jackasses making fun of her, which wouldn’t have been much of a change honestly…

Max finishes her tacos and beams up at Chloe, “That was delicious! Thank you so much Chloe!”

“Hey, you deserve it, also hang on, you got some sour cream on your nose.” Chloe grabs a napkin and wipes it off, prompting a giggle from Max.

“You’re adorable.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Max laughs and steals a chip from Chloe’s basket before grinning at her as she eats it.

“What, hey! Those are my chips! You’ve got your own!”

“Yeah but yours are tastier!”

Oh my god, this old game. “What, you want me to feed them to you?”

Chloe’s heart skips a beat as Max’s cheeks flush red. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”

“Only if you feed me yours.” Chloe grins as she feels her own cheeks heating up.

“It's a deal then.”

Chloe holds up one of her chips to Max’s face, who promptly devours it before holding up one of her chips for Chloe, who returns the gesture. Before long they’re both grinning at each other like sappy idiots and swapping chips until their baskets run empty. Max makes a little disappointed noise as they run out and Chloe gathers up their baskets.

“I’ll run these back and we’ll hit the road?”

“Sure thing.” Max says, before stifling a yawn. “Man, I didn’t realize how late it’s getting already.”

“Nah, you’re just getting old, the night’s still young.”

Max jabs a finger into Chloe’s side before laughing, “You ass, don’t you know it’s rude to joke about a lady’s age?”

“I’m older than you!”

“I said a lady.” Max retorts with a smirk as they both get to their feet and hop out of the bed.

“You got me there Maximus Wrecked.”

Damn, I think this is actually going pretty well! She thinks to herself as she jogs back to the food stand and drops the baskets off on the outside counter. From inside Alejandro flashes her a double thumbs up and Chloe grins back at him before turning around to head back to her truck.

Max is already in the cab, holding herself and shivering a bit as Chloe gets in. “Definitely should have brought a sweater.”

Thinking fast, Chloe pulls off her blazer and holds it out to Max. “Here, until the heater decides to start working.”

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she puts the blazer on in a hurry, “This has been great.”

“Hey, you’re great so…”

There’s a giggle from Max before she stifles another yawn. “Dork. We should probably head back though. I had a crazy long day.”

Chloe’s heart sinks and her mind immediately starts racing for ways she fucked this up as she starts her truck up. “Oh, okay.”

“I had fun Chloe, seriously.” Max says, reaching out across the bench and laying her hand on Chloe’s forearm as she shifts the truck into gear. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Oh, okay, so I didn’t completely fuck it up. “Second date, huh?”

“Definitely,” Max smiles warmly as they pull out into the street, “Mind if I put some of my tunes on?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

Soft indie rock fills the cabin as Chloe drives back to Max’s place. Despite the promise of a second date, she really, really, really doesn’t want this to end. She’d hoped to go walking down the beach or something with max, maybe hit up a bar and get a little crazy.

Can’t you just be happy dumbass? You got the second date, just… take it easy. You know better than to rush Max of all fucking people.

The drive back to Max’s apartment is way too short, or maybe she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts that the usual nightmare of LA traffic barely registers. Either way, she’s sitting in front of Max’s building and wishing she was anywhere else in town with Max.

“So, uh…”

“Thank you, I had a wonderful evening,” Max says softly as she scoots across the bench seat and presses a gentle kiss into Chloe’s cheek, one hand cupping her chin.

It takes Chloe a second to remember what words are, much less how to put them together into sentences, but she does manage, eventually as she turns to look at Max. “You’re, uh, hella welcome.”

Something mischievous that ties Chloe’s guts in a knot sparkles in those brilliant blue eyes of Max as she smiles wide, “Do you hella want to come up to my apartment for some coffee?”

[thiswasinevitableid]

76. it’s my birthday and you just fucking ruined my party and I don’t even know you

Danbrey, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

“Wow, dude, this is so fancy.” Jake takes in the dining room of Yosemite Lodge, “look, napkins!”

“Jake, we have cloth napkins back home.” Dani smiles fondly; while she’s more interested in the location and the decor, she agrees with her brothers overall enthusiasm.

The rest of Amnesty Lodge, where Dani lives and works, pooled their resources to surprise her with a weekend trip to Yosemite for her twenty-fifth birthday. She would have been happy camping, but they even went to the trouble of booking rooms in the main lodge and scheduling her a birthday dinner in the restaurant that looks out onto the valley.

Mama whistles at the menu from her seat at the head of the table, “damn, this is a good lookin dinner.”

Dani picks up the single sheet of paper, the silver writing informing her the meal with consist of a summer salad, shrimp scampie, and a strawberry rhubarb tart for dessert. When she glances across the table, Barclay is smiling down into his water glass.

“Oh my god, did you request a specific menu just for me?”

Her friend nods, blushing a little, “Head chef is an old friend from my line cook days.”

“Aw, you guys.” She sips the fancy cider Barclay ordered for the table, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

“You ain’t had a real party in years; seemed time to fix that.” Mama’s about to say something else when the fire alarm blares through the room and a server asks that everyone please exit through the side doors into the courtyard.

“Probably just a false alarm.” Barclay leans against a decorative rock.

“Uh, dudes? I smell smoke.”

Dani cranes her neck, tracks the path of the curling smoke through the lights from the windows to the main meeting room on the bottom floor of the hotel. A woman about her age, dressed entirely in red and black with, “The Lady Flame” emblazoned on her sparkly jacket, is talking and gesturing rapidly with disgruntled staff.

Two minutes later, the same woman steps onto the lawn with a sheepish smile.

“Hi everyone! It’s safe to go back in now. I, um, there was a tiny accident with some flashpaper. I think. Anyway, point is, I’m super sorry and there’s no more fire so please come enjoy my show. Oh, but, um, we have to move to the dining room due to some, um, ash.”

Just as she says this, one of the servers whispers in Barclays ear.

“Fuck. Sorry gang, sounds like we gotta postpone until tomorrow; whatever party booked ms fireball over there is gonna take up the whole restaurant.”

Dani sighs, resigning herself to a night of vending machine dinner as they head back inside. Then a hand settles on her arm and she’s locking eyes with the person who just ruined her evening.

“Hey, I always ask the cutest girl in the audience to be my assistant for the next bit. Do you want to-”

She pulls her arm away, “Yeah, hard pass, I’m not in whatever group decided to book you. I’m the person who’s birthday is getting turfed for your party.”

The magician cringes, “EEsh, I’m so sorry, I’ll, um, I’ll just.” She steps back, eyes glued to her black boots. As Dani continues into the lodge, she swears she hears the same voice go, “aw beans.”

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

The spring sunshine feels perfect, the breeze is gentle, and there are literal bluebirds calling around her. Dani feels like a dang disney princess as she naps on a rock near one of the meadows.

Something--a chipmunk, she assumes--munches the grass below her.

“Dr Harris Bonkers, no! This is a national park and I’m not letting my only son go to jail for vandalism.”

Dani rolls onto her side in time to see the magician from last night scooping a massive, orange rabbit from the ground. When she straightens enough to notice she’s not alone, the woman freezes.

“Um. Hi. Again.”

“Hi.” Not feeling like rehashing last night, she studies the rabbit, “should he really be running around out here?”

“Not even remotely. He was supposed to stay in my room, but he gnawed his way out of his carrier, hopped onto the windowsill, and decided to bounce when he saw all the plants out here.” She cautiously sits on the edge of the rock, rabbit in her lap, “I really am sorry about last night. I never used to have problems during my shows, but lately it’s like my flashpaper has a freaking mind of its own. I was kinda hoping it wouldn’t screw with anybody’s plans but mine.”

“It’s fine.” Dani shrugs, “we’re just going to do a dinner re-do tonight.”

The woman bites a matte black lip, “Could I, um, make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Well, it’s your birthday, right? You’re supposed to spend your birthday doing things you like, so I could, like, keep you company while you do them?”

It would be nice to have a hiking buddy. Mama is taking a well-deserved nap, Barclay is off for a swim, and Jake found some rock climbers to hang with. And while the Lady Flame looked good last night, today she’s downright gorgeous. The dyed-red streaks in her curly, black hair, the freckles, black shorts that make her butt look incredible, all of it adds up to someone Dani wouldn’t mind spending the day with.

“Do you have shoes you can hike in?”

She kicks up one leg, showing off her Doc Martens, “I once walked five miles in these with no problems.”

“Great. Let’s get the doctor” she rubs the rabbit’s ears, “somewhere safe and get on the trail.”

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

The hike’s only three and a half miles, but it’s taking them a long time to complete it. Not because they’re slow, but because Aubrey (as the Lady Flame calls herself) keeps stopping to look at or point out any interesting thing that catches her eye. It’s adorable.

Dani likes when she points out plants, because then she can show off a little.

“Dang, you really know your plants.” Aubrey stoops to take a picture of some Scarlet Monkeyflower.

“I run the teaching garden out back of the Lodge. Uh, Amnesty Lodge, where I live, not this one.”

“Coooool. I keep thinking about making Dr. Harris Boners a little garden when I finally find a place to stay put for awhile, but everything is always about how to keep bunnies out of your garden.”

“I mean, they can really trash it if you’re not careful.”

“I believe it, Dr. Harris Bonkers can take out a whole patch of rug in, like, ten minutes.”

“Herbs would probably be okay, clover too. I guess it depends on how much space you have.”

“Probably not much” Aubrey holds out a hand to help her across a creek, “traveling magicians don’t make much.”

Their talk turns to Aubrey’s life on the road, and her various misadventures trying to transport a fifteen pound rabbit on public transit. When they reach the waterfall that marks the trails end, they slip off their shoes and socks to dip their feet in the nearby pond, shoulders touching as they compare notes on growing up in sometimes stressful family situations.

It’s well after lunchtime when they get back, so they sit in the meadow and split a bag of chips, shooing away several overly ambitious squirrels. Mama joins them for a bit, and Dani smiles when she notices how quickly the older woman takes to Aubrey. Mama can never turn down a stray.

Dani’s already scheming for how to spend the last day of her vacation with Aubrey when the magician turns down her invitation to dinner. She’s a little disappointed, but Aubrey promises she’ll see her later.

Her birthday dinner redux is halfway into its second course when the lights at the front of the room brighten and the ones above her dim.

“And now, as an added, surprise treat for this evening's meal, the magnificent Lady Flame is here to dazzle you all with her astounding feats of magic!” The server at the edge of the room gives a thumbs up and Aubrey bounds into view, smile glittering brighter than her outfit.

To Dani’s delight, Aubrey is an amazing magician; her tricks are interesting, her patter is the same funny, energetic pace that their conversations were this afternoon, and her assistant is adorable. When she declares she needs a volunteer for her next trick, she’s holding her hand out to Dani before anyone else can raise theirs.

The trick turns out to be picking cards and showing them to the audience, though Dani notices Aubrey devotes as much sleight of hand to brushing their fingers together as she does to her act.

“And now, esteemed audience, I will produce a flower from my lovely assistant's hair!”

Dani smiles, then claps along with everyone else as Aubrey produces a spring of Larkspur from thin air. Literally, Dani cannot for the life of her tell where she was hiding it. Or how she was able to get what Dani said was her favorite flower on such short notice.

Aubrey finishes up her act (and doesn’t set anything on fire) to thunderous applause, and Dani spots Mama leaning over to whisper something to Barclay, who nods thoughtfully. It’s only after the magician has taken her last bow that Dani has a horrible realization; Aubrey went to all that trouble to make her birthday dinner memorable, and she didn’t get to eat any of it.

Her white sandals sink into the carpet as she carries a plate down to Aubrey’s room. When her new friend opens the door, she’s between worlds; sparkly jacket on top, red pajama pants on the bottom.

“I brought you some cake. Or, uh, I guess it’s a tart.” She holds out the plate and Aubrey takes it, cheeks going pink, “since you didn’t get the rest of the dinner.”

“Thanks” Aubrey steps back so Dani can join her in the room, “it’s chill that I didn’t get to join you all; I wanted to make up for ruining your dinner last night.”

“You already did way more than that. Aubrey, this was the nicest day I’ve had in months, and most of that is because I got to spend it with you.”

“I dunno, feel weird getting cake from a thing I crashed.” Aubrey is fidgeting with her bracelets, blushing harder every time she looks up and finds Dani still smiling at her.

“Can I give you something else instead?” Dani takes a half-step forward.

“Sure! What-” Aubrey’s words fade into a little sigh as Dani wraps her arms over her shoulders. Then her back bumps into the nightstand as Aubrey throws herself into a kiss.

“Hey” Dani teases, nibbling her ear as Aubrey holds her tighter, “you messed up my big reveal.”

“Aw dang, guess I’ll have to make it up to you.” Aubrey slips her hands down to the small of her back, “how does even more making out sound?”

Dani pulls her towards the bed, heart buzzing with warmth at the sight of her smile and the touch of her hands, “like the best birthday gift ever.”

[whitexwingedxdoves]

Ghosts ( Chapter 2)

Chapter 2.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Time Frame: Pre Apocalypse Warnings: strong language, crime, Summary: Merle convinces you to run away with them and you get closer to Daryl on your travels. A/N: you have no idea how long it took for me to write this. I got a block like half way in. Also this is definitely a filler chapter sorry! I promise the next one will be much more entertaining. Read Chapter 1 Here

As you awoke the next morning, the southern sun leaked in through the blinds of your room and you felt the warmth on patches of your face. Your eyes adjusted to the light and scanned the room as you stretched out your back. You noticed Daryl, propped in the same position he was in last night, fast asleep and just like that the dread of yesterday settled back in. You sat up in bed for a while as you tried to piece your memories of last night, though most of it was a blur. You noticed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the bedside table next to Daryl. Throwing the covers off you, you tiptoed around the room retrieving a cig and the lighter before heading outside. Your lungs pulling the fresh air in, you leaned against the banister looking out at the car park before lighting the cig, replacing the fresh air in your lungs with chemicals. The breeze of the morning combined with the scolding sun distracted you from reality for a moment, a small moment of ignorant bliss, that was until you heard a door open. It was Merle, he clumsily fell from the door frame as he adjusted his unbuttoned shirt over his discoloured vest. His eyes met yours for a moment, his features became soft, almost like a child’s as he noticed you standing there. Clearing his throat, attempting to hide the obvious guilt on his face, he too pulled out a smoke and stood beside you.

“Daryl in there?” he questioned, pointing to your room. You nodded, awkwardly avoiding any more eye contact with this man. “kay, well I’ll wake him up and we can get goin’” he announced heading towards the door but he stopped when he heard you speak.

“We?” your features showing a mixture of anger and confusion. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?” you spat at him, he allowed a small laugh pass, shaking his head.

“Sweetheart, you don’t think you can go back now do ya?” when you didn’t respond he only laughed more “Na… you’re in this with us na. You can’t go back there! There’s a burnt down stolen trailer with a body inside. Your sisters… you don’t think they’ll bring you in for questioning?” biting down on his lips, your face growing even more confused the more he spoke. “What happens when they realise you were there when it happened… that makes you an accessory to murder baby girl. You ran with us last night, that aint doin’ you any favours.” You could feel the anger taking over your body as you listened to this man, this pathetic excuse for a man, you couldn’t stand the way he was talking about your sister as if she was just a prop, you couldn’t stand how he managed to make you a suspect in all of this while you were at your most venerable but most of all you couldn’t stand how he was right. Though that didn’t stop your hand connecting with his face.

“You’re a prick” you leaned into him pushing past him and back into your room. The noise of you opening the door woke Daryl up, he noticed how tight you held your jaw as you threw his lighter back in his direction. “We need to go” you spoke bluntly, staring at the younger brother. He just nodded, not questioning the motives of your decision.

“We’re we goin?” he asked simply, pushing his belongings back into his pockets and standing up. He allowed a moment to stretch himself out, his arms way above his head, his vest pulling up his body showing his navel. You admired how smooth his skin looked but only briefly, that’s when Merle popped his head around the door.

“Just get in the car!” he demanded, holding his face where your hand connected to it and just like that you all made your way to your car. You took the back seat and so did Daryl while Merle took charge in the driver's seat.

 -

 You had been on the road for a few hours, barely saying a word to anyone. You just watched as the world became blurry, seemingly flying past you. There was nothing any of you could say but Daryl wanted to, he wanted to distract you but he just couldn’t find the right words. His eyes never left you, he admired the structure of your face as you looked out the window, the whole time chewing on the corner of his mouth. Merle caught a glimpse of how Daryl was looking at you and a devious smirk crept onto his lips. He turned the corner and pulled into a small gas station.

“Okay, time to stock up.” He announced, far too cheerfully. He and Daryl looked at each other almost as if they could read each other's mind, you watched them confused as they both nodded at each other and left the car. Merle pumping gas and Daryl heading straight into the building for food and other supplies. You slowly opened the door and got out, stretching your body taking in the surroundings. “Don’t go too far, we aint staying long!” Merle announced, the same evil smile plastered on his face.

“Not going anywhere!” you threw a sarcastic smile his way before leaning against the car door. You looked over at the gas metre watching the numbers get higher and higher. “How we gonna pay for all of this” you didn’t get a response instead he just hopped into the car and told you to get in quickly, you looked over your shoulder as Daryl came bolting out of the store with his arms full of goods. Fuck. You jumped back in the car leaving the door open for Daryl as he slid right in. Merle didn’t wait long and immediately started taking off, you watched as Daryl scrambled to free his arms of all the things he had just stolen, his door still wide open. You took it upon yourself to lean over him and pull it shut. Daryl couldn’t help but feel flush as you leaned over him, his eyes scanning you. He took particular interest in the crook of your neck and how soft it looked. He tried to take a breath but all he could inhale was the soft, flowery smell of whatever you used for shampoo the night before. Once the door was closed and you were on the road, Merle let out a hearty laugh. You and Daryl stayed quiet.

 “You get anything good baby bro!” he asked, peering into the mirror. You sat back, running your hands through your hair as you watched the younger brother go through everything he had stolen.

“What the fuck was that!” you finally interjected. “Are you insane?!” you screamed at Merle, his eyes narrowed now, glancing back at you through the mirror.

“What the fuck do you want us to do? We gotta survive, right?” you couldn’t argue with him, you just propped your elbows on your knees and leaned your face into your palms. Once you popped your head back up, you looked at the pile laying in between you and Daryl. You noticed 3 packs of  Camels buried under liquor and chips, you grabbed a pack and pulled at the packaging until you could slide out a cigarette. Lighting it up with the lighter Daryl passed you, you rolled the window down and slumped back into your seat, defeated. “Atta girl!” Merle teased peering at you through the mirror.

You had always tried to escape this life, you watched countless others fall into the same trap. A life of crime and drugs. You always swore to yourself you would never turn out like the people in your town. You wanted to get away from it all, be the change you needed to see when you were a child but in pure twisted irony, here you are in the back of your car, attempting to escape the law with a drug addict and his thieving brother.

_

The night soon drew in, yet again you found the car pulling into a motel, this one looked nicer on the outside, it had a communal area with chairs and tables and pool… the pool was questionable. You watched Merle run to the reception to get some rooms. You helped pick up the stolen goods with Daryl while you waited. Closing the car door, you both stood awkwardly, waiting.

“M’ sorry” Daryl whispered in your direction, it caught you off guard. You turned to him and saw the pity drip from his face.

“S’ not your fault.” You responded with a small genuine smile passing your lips, he noticed that it was the first time you had smiled since leaving the trailer. Merle was back at this point, shaking one key at you both.

“They only had one room, two beds though” You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to sleep in the same room as that man but followed him as he led the way. Once in the room, you and Daryl placed the various snacks, alcohol and cigarette cartons on the dresser. The room was similar to the one you had last night, just… bigger. You looked around the room and on an accent table off to the side sat 4 small glasses, you pulled 2 away and grabbed a bottle of whiskey that Daryl brought in.

“Gonna go have a drink, outside. You wanna come?” you questioned, looking up at Daryl. Merle is now listening in. The younger brother just nodded and took the glasses from your hand.

“Woah, is this a date or am I just not invited?” Merle teased reaching for one of the glasses from the table. You clenched your jaw heading for the door. Not saying a word as the brothers followed you down to the communal area. You chose a circle table and sat down. The two boys followed shortly after, sitting in the free chairs beside you. You wasted no time pouring yourself a drink and downing it instantly. Both boys just watched you, Merle seemed impressed but Daryl couldn’t shake the worried look from his face. You poured another drink but you took your time with this one. You passed the bottle on and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes landed on Daryl as you watched him tip back his drink.

“Well, considering we're going to be spending a lot of time together, we should probably get to know each other” you suggested, Daryl gave Merle a confused look and the look was replicated. Merle cleared his throat and popped his drink down on the table.

“Whatcha wanna know?” his tone became cocky as he watched the alcohol swirl in the glass. You just shrugged, biting on your bottom lip trying to think of a question. “I know, let's play I aint never” your face dropped at Merle’s suggestion, dumbfounded he would even suggest such a game.

“Ain’t that like a teenage girl’s game.” You spat sarcastically back at the man, who seemed amused by your discomfort of the idea. He just shook his head and laughed.

“Oh sweetie, you wanna get to know us, right? We might as well make it intrestin’ “ his smirk growing on his face as you tipped your glass back, gaining another mouth full of the burning liquid.

“Fine, you go first”

“I ain’t never sucked no dick before” Daryl looked at his brother with pure disgust for even letting the perverted words leave his mouth, his eyes wandered to you as you drank the last of your drink and poured another.

“My turn…. I ain’t never paid for a fuck” you sinisterly spat at Merle watching him drink back the remainder of his glass. You turned to Daryl, amused by your choice of question and nodded in his direction. “Your turn.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid!” He growled, shaking his head.

“Oh baby bro, you’re just pissed cause you ain't never done anythin’” Merle mocked, laughing at his younger brother. You snapped your head towards Merle and shot him a deadly look.

“Oh what and you think paying for a fuck makes you a big man? Some sort of cool guy?” you spat at him. “God you’re such a fucking pig. At least Daryl has fucking respect for himself” Merle just stared at you both before grabbing his glass and lifting himself up from the table, muttering and cussing to himself as he left.

It was awkward for a moment as you watched Merle leave, heading towards the motel. Shifting your weight so you were facing Daryl now, you couldn’t help but notice how embarrassed he looked. You didn’t believe what Merle said about him but still, you wondered… Daryl never looked at you in a creepy way like most men back home did, nor did he try to force himself on you or make passive pervy comments like them. “Your turn” you spoke softly, holding your glass in your hand, attempting to break the awkward tension. He just sighed and hung his head slightly in defeat.

“I aint never fucked no one in public” You laughed slightly at his words.

“Can’t say I have… wanted to, just never did!” you teased, crossing your legs and allowing one to bounce slightly. “Okay, I aint never been caught in the act” you watched as Daryl tossed back his head downing his drink. “Oh you dirty dog!” you teased more, filling his glass up for him. He laughed a little and you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that swarmed your stomach at the sound of his laughter. You pressed the glass against your lips as you studied him for a moment, the way you did when you first met him but you allowed your eyes to venture more, you took in the way the outdoor lights contoured the muscles in his arms and the veins that popped out under the skin on his hands, you snapped your eyes back up to his as he spoke.

“I aint never played this stupid game before” he sniggered as you tipped your glass back. You held the liquid in your mouth for a moment, placing the glass back onto the table. You had to know something about him, just to make sure that you weren’t falling into the same trap of falling for the wrong guy again like you did time and time again. Not that you were falling for him, at least you didn’t think so. Swallowing the liquid you sat up in your chair slightly.

“I aint never done fuckin’ heroine before” Your words seemed harsh and your eyes never left Daryl, praying and hoping he wouldn’t lift the glass. A look of guilt swept over his face as he looked down at the glass before he looked up at you.

“Nah, I ain’t stupid” he spoke proudly, a look of hurt in his eyes but you couldn’t help but smile at him. The rest of the night went as well as it could, you spent most the night talking with Daryl forgetting about the alcohol and the adolescent game you were playing and just talked. Not about anything important but it was nice, it took you both away from reality for a moment.

-

The next morning, you all gathered into the communal area to figure out where to go from here. Daryl and Merle were arguing over where to go next but you blocked it out, you were watching a man walking in and out of his motel room. You knew instantly this guy was sketchy, the way he dressed and how he was always looking over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until the man got into a car and disappeared up the road. You interrupted the boys who were arguing over how to get money, Daryl stating that they couldn’t just keep stealing from gas stations, pushing away from the table the brothers looked up at you. “I just need to go grab something, I’ll be back in a second. '' Keeping it brief and not allowing them to respond you made your way up to the room that you saw the man walking in and out of. Trying your best to keep a low profile you looked through his window to see if you could pick out anything of value. The room was a mess but you noticed the way the mattress was unusually raised. You took a second to think things over and looked for a way in. Just then, as if luck was in your favour, a woman turned the corner with a basket of cleaning supplies hanging from her arm. “Oh excuse, I’m really sorry about this but my boyfriend just went to the store and he took the room key with him, do you mind…” you turned to the door and signalled for her to open it, an innocent smile plastered over your features. The woman sighed and fumbled in the front pocket of her apron before pulling out a room key and unlocked the door. You thanked her, what felt like a million times as you slowly backed into the room.

Once inside the room, you frantically looked around before spotting a duffel bag lazily thrown into the corner. You grabbed it and knelt down in front of the mattress where you noticed the lump. Pushing your hair behind your ears you took a deep breath before digging your hand under. You could feel the large amounts of cash brush across your fingertips which only made you smile. You pulled out wads of cash, not bothering to count it until you felt like you had taken enough. Putting the money into the duffel bag, you zipped it up quickly and left the room making your way back to Daryl and Merle who were predictably still arguing. You kept looking over your shoulder as you approached them. “Hey, I think I’m gonna take the car into the town we passed, see if there’s anything useful” Daryl looked up at the bag with a puzzled look on his face but you were just grateful Merle hadn’t noticed. “Will you come with me?” directing your question at Daryl he noticed how you seemed to be in a rush so he just nodded and pulled himself up from the table.

“Fine, go! I’ll just nap off this hangover” Merle waved us off and just like that you rushed to your car.

First you threw the bag in before you got into the driver's seat. Finally you were able to breathe a little better and your attention turned to Daryl, who despite not saying anything was waiting for an explanation. You just passed him the bag and focused on hot wiring the car. You heard the bag unzip and used that as your cue to explain your plan “I broke into some seedy guy's room, I didn’t take all his money but enough. I was thinking we could grab some tents and camping stuff, fill the car up and leave whatever’s left for food.” You spoke quickly, you finally heard the engine roar and looked at Daryl biting your lip, hoping he would agree to your plan.

“Shit” he chewed the corner of his lip as he looked at the money, like he did whenever he was deep in thought. “Yeah, yeah camping shit, that’s a good plan” zipping up the bag again and throwing it onto the back seat, he felt your hand on his arm.

“Don’t tell Merle about the money” He didn’t even need to think about why he just nodded in agreement and sat back into his seat as you started to drive off.

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Beyond Our Dreams | Remus Lupin x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: None

Time/Era: Marauders Era, Aged 19

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Remus Lupin finally gets to meet his American soulmate, Y/N, after seeing eachother every night in their dreamscape. 

Request: can you do a remus lupin x gender neutral reader soulmate au where they see each other in their dreams

A/N: I adore Remus so much. He’s such a special character to me. So, thank you for the request! Enjoy! I also attached my Remus Lupin playlist, which is full of songs that remind me of this perfect boi :) Check it out if you want! 

masterlist | my remus lupin playlist | read on ao3

The apartment they chose to meet at was always the same; it was a small room with a comfy, forest green couch, a cozy bed, a small kitchenette, and a door that led to a bathroom. It was rather plain as well, with dark red walls and a plush carpet below their feet. On one of the walls, there was a large window that overlooked a calm city. The normal hustle and bustle of city life was extinguished by a heavy downpour. 

While most people made their dreamscapes extravagant and complicated, as it is their mind after all, Remus and Y/N found comfort in the simplicity. The pair just needed a comfortable spot to talk and get to know eachother. 

“And then Lily just sort of dropped the bomb,” Remus stated, sitting on the couch opposite of Y/N. His long fingers wrapped around a white mug and he held his tea close to his body. 

“I can’t believe she’s pregnant!” Y/N had her legs crossed and a plate of chocolate chip cookies situated in her lap. “We haven’t even met yet, but people our age are already having kids.” 

Remus heartily chuckled, raising his mug to his lips and taking a sip. “It’ll happen in due time, darling. Besides, it’s nice to have you to myself without outside influences,” He coughs. “My friends skewing your views on me.” 

“I know your friends are lovely, based on how you speak so fondly of them.” Y/N took a big bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies. It was chewy and gooey, making it absolutely delicious. “Why are dream cookies so good? Like, seriously, these things are to die for.” 

“Because they’re a figment of your imagination. They can be as yummy or as disgusting as you make them to be.” Remus pulled at the collar of his gray t-shirt, making the seams rip. “Do you ever wish I was more, I don’t know, exciting?” 

“What do you mean?” Chocolate smudged on the corners of her mouth.

Remus grinned and licked his thumb, rubbing it over her delicate skin to clean her face. “I mean, our dream world is a one-bedroom apartment and all we ever do is talk. I don’t know, I hear Sirius has a rollercoaster in his dreamscape. I fell dull in comparison.” 

Y/N fondly smiled at her soulmate, moving so she was sitting directly next to him. “Rollercoasters are overrated. I like the comfort our little apartment gives us, it’s nice and warm in here and I have you next to me.” She set the cookies on the coffee table in front of the couch. “We don’t need to go on extravagant adventures, you seem to have enough of those when you’re awake.” 

“You deserve better, though. Not a guy in his late teens that is constantly tired and would rather sit on a couch drinking tea than going on a rollercoaster.” 

“I deserve you, and you are more than enough for me.” Y/N sighed, moving Remus’ hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t feel her physically, but it was still a nice gesture. “I’m not exactly itching to go on grand adventures. That’s what meeting you is for.” 

“You’re only 5,437 miles away, anyway.” Remus’ mouth twitched into a sad smile. “That’s nothing.” 

“Hey, it’s better than 5,438 miles.” 

“You got me there.” 

~

“What would you do if I came to London and surprised you?” Y/N laid her head on Remus’ thigh while he moved his hand through her hair, trying to imagine what it felt like. 

“I’d probably get rather quiet and not know what to do if I’m being honest,” Remus observed how Y/N’s locks flowed through his fingers like water and how it contrasted against the forest green upholstery of the couch. 

“Maybe let out a few cuss words?” 

“Why are you so obsessed with me cussing?” 

“Your accent is hot, especially when you say ‘fuck.’ I like to hear it.” Y/N smiled cheekily and watched Remus’ pupils dilate. 

“Fuck,” The words fall off his tongue with his Welsh accent. Much of the Welsh had faded, due to living at Hogwarts and now London, but it was still very apparent in his speech.  Y/N giggled and squirmed. 

“Yeah, like that. Sometimes you just slip it into casual conversations and I have to compose myself.” 

“Americans are weird, it’s just an accent.” 

“No, it’s not just an accent. It’s your accent so I like to hear it. Sue me!” Y/N threw her hands up in false anguish, lightly bumping Remus’ stomach. 

“You’re so dramatic, love.” 

“I am not dramatic! Just every time I compliment my favorite person in the world he says I’m weird! Maybe you’re the weird one, Lupin!” 

“Fine, I’m the weird one. Does that make you happy?” His voice sounded exasperated, but he was staring down at her with the fondest expression.

“Extremely.” 

~

“Do you think Sirius, James, and Peter would like me?” Y/N sat on the counter of the dream kitchenette. 

“They already do like you, dear.” Remus stood between her legs with his hands resting on her thighs. With her sitting so high, they were almost the same height. “Why?” 

“Well they’re important to you, and you’re important to me, so I want them to like me. It would suck if your friends hated me.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. They even have a nickname for you,” Remus looked away, his cheeks turned slightly red. This piqued Y/N’s attention. 

“A nickname? What is it?”

“Button.” Remus’ cheeks were dusted a light rose color and his ears were bright red. 

“Button? Why Button?” 

“Well, a few years ago we were all going around and describing our soulmates. I said that you were as cute as a button and I guess the name stuck.” 

Butterflies erupted in Y/N’s stomach and she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why can’t I just apparate to you again?” 

“We talked about this, love. You’ve never been here and I’ve never been there so you can’t apparate straight here. And the plane ride between us is almost 11 hours.” 

“Fucking hell.” Y/N sighed in frustration. 

“Fucking hell, indeed.” 

~

“I did something, and you have to promise not to be mad at me.” Y/N paced around the kitchenette while Remus lounged on the couch. His head shot up at her words. 

“What did you do?” His mind raced a mile a minute and he prepared himself for the worst. Y/N probably found someone better than him and wanted to cut off contact. 

“It’s nothing bad, relax.” 

“Well if it’s not bad, why would I be mad?” Y/N sighed and sat next to him on the couch. 

“Well, in the real world I’m sort of on a plane to London right now.” 

Remus’ eyes bulged and he jumped off the couch. “You’re coming? Here? Really? Now?” 

“Well, I’ll be there in about four hours.” Remus was now pacing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Mine and Sirius’ flat is a wreck!” 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to back out for a silly reason like a messy apartment.” Y/N stood and reached for her boy. “I love you and I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

“Four hours?” 

“Yes, four hours.And I need a ride from the airport.” 

~

Y/N stood atop the escalator and looked at the crowd below, scanning all the faces for her love. Her face crinkled when she didn’t see Remus but two young men holding a piece of cardboard with her name written in black marker on it. She realized that the two were, in fact, James Potter and Sirius Black. 

“Sirius and James?” She said walking up, suitcase in hand. Both were much taller than Y/N and extremely handsome, making her feel slightly uncomfortable under their gaze. Both young men grinned down at her. 

“Ah, you must be Button. Nice to know Remus talks about us enough for you to recognize our handsome faces,” Sirius exclaims, putting the cardboard under his arm and nudging James. “You’re even prettier than Rem described.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Well, you aren’t exactly hard to miss. Long hair, leather jacket, combat boots, overly flirty,” Y/N turns to James. “Glasses, The Beatles shirt, tired expression. Obviously, you’re James Potter and Sirius Black.” She smiles and pulls her hair behind her ear. “Congrats on the baby, by the way.” 

James beams, “Thanks! Kinda crazy considering the circumstances, but you know how it goes.” He takes Y/N’s luggage and starts walking towards the exit. “You threw Moony into quite a panic, you know. It was one of the best things I’ve seen in a while.” 

“It had to be done, he’s been putting it off for years. Something about not wanting me to be disappointed, whatever that means.” 

“Ah, classic moons. Glad you came though, really shakes up our daily schedule.” Sirius responds. The three make their way to a Volkswagon Beetle and James pops the trunk to put Y/N’s luggage inside. 

“Why didn’t he come and get me? Not that I mind the company, of course.” Sirius crawls into the back middle seat, leaving Y/N to sit shotgun with James driving. “Woah, I forgot it’s on the wrong side.”

“He pussied out, I’m sure you know how nervous he gets,” James pulled out onto the street and down the road. “And what’s on the wrong side?” 

“Your car and the road, James. It’s on the wrong side.” 

“It’s not on the wrong side, maybe you’re on the wrong side. Ever think of that?” He turned his head to look at her, the thick frame glasses on his face sliding down his nose. 

“See! You agree! I am currently on the wrong side!” Y/N giggled and hugged her backpack to her chest. 

Sirius also lets out a loud, bellowing laugh. Y/N felt as though she had known these two her entire life; in a way, she had. 

The three pulled into a parking structure and she exited the beetle. (The car, she had come to discover, was named Lennon, after John Lennon himself.) She hadn’t been nervous up until this moment, staring at the apartment door. James patted her shoulder and smiled. 

“It’ll be okay. He’s the same Remus you’ve been talking to for the past however many years.” 

“Yeah, if you even get him to talk,” Sirius pushes his way between the two and towards the door, lugging Y/N’s bag into the flat. He drops the luggage in the middle of the living room and flops onto the couch. “Oh, Moonbear, your lover is here! Get your fine ass out of your room, before I take it out here myself!” 

Y/N cautiously pads into the house, taking in the atmosphere of the home. It was very similar to their dreamscape, very small and sparsely decorated. However, the flat seemed to have 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, as well as a few closets. The livingroom had various framed band posters hanging on the walls, as well as a big framed picture of the entire friend group. Y/N could point out who was who easily as she observed it. 

“Lily is so pretty,” She said aloud and pointed between two blondes. “Which one is Marlene and which one is Mary?” 

Sirius and James look at eachother and share a laugh. “Merlin, he really does talk about us.” James points at the girl with the big, poofy hair. “That one’s Marls, the other is Mary.” 

“Makes sense, since I’m assuming that’s Dorcas?” Y/N’s gaze moves from the blonde to a pretty brunette next to her. 

“Oi, Moons, I didn’t realize you spoke about us so much,” James says, making Y/N turn around. In all his glory, Remus Lupin stood in the living room, decked out in jeans, and a The Smiths shirt. He was perfectly imperfect, and Y/N’s entire body warmed. His gaze didn’t leave Y/N as James spoke but he allowed his jaw to grow slightly slack and his hands to pull his shirt down. 

“You’re even more beautiful in person, how is that possible?” His voice was breathy and light as if he was in complete awe. The light from the windows highlighted his cheekbones and made his features look unbelievably sharp, creating shadows that danced down his neck. He looked heavenly in absolutely every way possible, and this moment made her entire travel day worth it. Y/N blushed and stepped towards him. 

“Nice shirt, missed you at the airport, though.” 

Remus rolls his eyes and pulls his girl close to him. “Sorry ‘bout that, sunshine.” 

Y/N nestled her face into his chest, taking deep breaths of his cologne. He was even better than she expected, all the way down to the wool socks he wore. Remus’ hand came to gently stroke her hair before looking up to see his friends. Unsurprisingly, though, the living room was now empty and Sirius’ bedroom door was closed. 

“You smell so good, is that weird to say?” Y/N mumbles into the fabric of his shirt. “Like pine, and candy. I don’t know how to describe it.” She felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” 

“Had’ta be sneaky, catch you off guard.” Y/N looked up into his eyes and glanced down to his lips. 

The soft look of admiration she had seen so many times crossed his features as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. 

[mudhornchronicles]

dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part four

pairing: frankie morales x reader; greaser!frankie x reader

warning: cursing, talking down, and feels

a/n: listen… I know the song mentioned in this part was released before their time and I’ve tried my hardest to stay within this timeline but it just went so well. sue me. also... do ya’ll like the moodboard i did? c:

part one | part two | part three | part four

masterlist

No matter what you were doing, homework or chores, your mind is always drifting off to Frankie. 

and so did Frankie’s.

The urge to talk to him became stronger every time you saw him in class because you truly enjoyed his company. You liked him because he never tried to be someone he was not - he was true to himself.

You were enamored by the way he spoke so passionately about his mother and his favorite pastimes. You felt a ripple of joy when you had seen his eyes light up when you complimented his father’s car. You also caught yourself giggling like a schoolgirl at the sight of his cheeks reddening at your comment about his “cute dimple.” 

You may have not known Frankie for long, but from the time you’ve spent with him, the more at ease you felt. 

Frankie didn’t miss the quick glances you shot his way, but he also knew you didn’t miss the way he paid more attention to the way you adjusted your pencil when you tried to understand the day’s lesson than to the lesson itself. 

Frankie took a mental note at the fact that you took great pride with your hair. Even though there were endless ways of styling your hair, Frankie’s favorite was your go to up-do with a ribbon that always matched your skirt. It was simple, yet so elegant at the same time. 

You packed your grey spiral notebook and #2 pencils in your school bag and settled the leather strap on your right shoulder. Your class let out early, which you were thankful for. You were tired from running to your first period after missing the bus and having to catch a ride with Max - making him late in the process. You walk into the hallway, ready to take the stairs for your math class when you hear a throat clear behind you. You assumed it wasn’t for you and as you placed a hand on the handrail, you hear Frankie speak your name.

You look back and flash him a tired smile. “Good morning, Francisco.” You check the giant black and white clock and cough up a chuckle. “Actually, good afternoon.”

Frankie looks around to see students’ eyes widen when they hear you call him Francisco. Shit, Frankie thinks. 

“C’mon baby.” Frankie silently chastises himself. “Don’t be runnin’ that pretty little mouth with my government name ‘round here.”

You stood dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” 

Frankie leans back on the cement wall and chuckles. “Y’heard me… Listen sweetheart. I-” He abruptly stops and glares at the gawking students. Freshman, he thinks.

“Was I talkin’ to you? Get the fuck outta here before I give ya a reason to stare.” and with that they scram. You frown and scoff.

“Goodbye, Frankie.”

“No.” He gently grabs your arm and turns you back to him. “Can we please talk? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“Frankie let go of me.” You tug on your arm, trying to set it free from is grasp. “I’ll be late for math class.”

Frankie lets out a laugh, the laugh you liked hearing. “It’s a short day,” he says. “School’s out for the day.”

“Is today Wednesday?” you question.

Frankie nods and smiles, revealing his perfect dimple. “You got a ride home? Lorenzano told me you got him detention.”

Your mouth drops. “He got detention? Oh no! That was not my intention at all! I was let off easy.” You shake your head in disbelief. “If he’s in there I should be too. Excuse me, Frankie.”

Frankie throws his head back in laughter and holds you in place. “I’m kiddin’, doll. I just saw ‘em leave with Goldilocks.”

“Goldilocks?”

“Michael, sweetheart. I gotta teach ya these names. He was your ride, wasnt he? How ‘bout I take ya home?”

You rub the back of your neck and shake your head slowly. “That won’t be the best idea, Frankie.”

“‘Cause of ya folks?” You nod and decide your shoes are much more interesting to look at than the brown swirls of chocolate that rest in his eyes.

“What do they say ‘bout me?” You look back up and your eyes shift to a doe-like look.

“C’mon dolly. Just tell me.”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other as you bite your lip, trying to find the words to say. “They said you aren’t what I need to be seen with. That your only goal in life is to ruin what they worked so hard to have. My mother said you were only going to use me for the opportunities I earn and use them for yourself and that I should just forget you.” You let out a deep sigh and look into his eyes.

You see his jaw shift side to side and take in a deep breath. He looks at you and says, “and do you believe them?”

“No. Not one bit.”

Frankie takes one of your hands into his and smiles. “Good. I won’t make you any more late to the bus than I already have.” Frankie gestures to the hallway that stretches down and meets the entrance of the building. 

“But I do have a question for you.” You nod, motioning for him to continue. “You wanna go on a ride with me?

“I thought you hid your car?”

“I never said anything about my car. How ‘bout it, dolly? Let me take you on a joy ride.”

You hesitate and Frankie notices this. “Do you trust me?”

He continues to play with your fingers and you give his hand a small squeeze.

“I do.” you smile. “Pick me up at the same spot as the last time, okay?”

———

You can’t help but feel worried, yet excited all at the same time. When you heard the roar of Frankie’s motorcycle, a smirk crept up and planted itself at your lips. You turned and saw Frankie ride up and park right next to you, kicking the stand and stabilizing the bike before walking over to you.

“So this is what you meant by a ride, huh?” Frankie smiled proudly and nodded. “Yep. This here is Delta. Finally finished her a couple months back. Whatd’ya think? Ain’t she a beaut?”

You walked around the bike, analyzing it and committing her details to memory. “She’s a Harley FL? She looks like a ‘41 or ‘42.”

Frankie looks back at you with an amused look. “You know bikes?”

You smiled and nodded. “My uncle owns a shop upstate.” You comment. “His prized possession is a 1935 Vincent Comet. He’s very proud of it. It doesn’t move, but it looks nice.” You joke. 

“I think I just fell in love with you, doll. You can’t just whip this on me so suddenly.” You laugh with him and smile to yourself.

I think I just fell in love with you, doll. 

“Before we go, I need you to wear this.” He says handing you a silver and red helmet. You frown and pat the crown of your head. “But it’ll frizz and flatten my hair”

He pulls a white bandana from the inside of the helmet and hands it to you. “It won’t, trust me. My mom wears this all the time and her hair is still higher than the empire state.”

“I do trust you, Frankie.” You chuckle. You bring his hands, bandana in between, and motion for him to tie it for you. This brings him close. His face is close to yours - his lips closer than ever. 

He ties it in place and cups your cheek. Your eyes are glued on each other and that feeling of being content flows back into your system. He clears his throat and hands you the helmet, unbuckling it before you take it into your hands.

He helps you onto the back of the bike and before he can get on, you spot his school bag tied to the side of the bike. “What’s with the bag?”

“It has something for us. Don’t worry, doll. You’ll see soon.”

———

Who knew this place had such a view. Frankie drove up through windy roads, the elevation making your ears pop, but the result was breathtaking. He pulled up to a flat section of the mountain, nearly at the top, and you could see the navy image of the mountain range serving as the background of the miniscule outline of the town.

Frankie helps you off the bike, placing a helmet on each of the handles. He unties his bag for the bike, grabbing your hand and leading you towards a grassy area. He opens his bag revealing a squared white tablecloth, snapping it and placing it on the ground. He helps you onto the fabric and allows you to get settled before he sits and re-opens his bag. He snaps his bag shut and looks at you. He calls your name, and you give him your full attention, which he has had from the beginning.

“Would you like to have a picnic with me?” he shyly says. Your cheeks burn at the sight of his timidity. “I would love to, Frankie.”

From his bag, he pulls two glass soda pop bottles nestled in paper napkins, two wrapped sandwiches, candy bars, and a bag of potato chips. He sets your share of the foods in front of you and sets the candy choices in front of both of you.

“I didn’t know what candy your favorite was, or if you even eat candy, but I brought us some options.” He proudly says. In front of you were a plethora of candy: snickers, gummi bears, kit-kats, m&ms, junior mints, and tootsie pops. You grabbed your favorite and thanked him.

You weren’t used to be treated with the amount of kindness as Frankie was giving you. You had been courted before, but they all believed that gifts were the way to your heart, but, you just wanted a good conversation.

“Frankie, can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything you want, doll.”

“Why are you so set on being around me?”

Frankie shrugs, opening his sandwich. “You’re a cool chick.”

You nod in agreement and giggle. “Alright… You’re a cool cat too Frankie… well when you’re not getting arrested.”

Frankie playfully rolls his eyes and lets out a loud groan. “That was one time.”

You give him a nudge and when you are certain he’s looking; you start to mock him.

“Please Mr. Jailer…. Won't you let my man go free…”

Frankie lets out a hearty laugh. “That’s unfair!”

“Please Mr. Jailer,” you continue. “Won't you let my man go free.” You both cackle and howl until you’re out of breath.

“C’mon! How ‘bout ya give my criminal record a break and eat your sandwich!”

You looked at the plastic wrapped sandwich and grinned. “Did you make these yourself?” He nods with a mouthful of food and hums uh huh. You enthusiastically unwrap the sandwich and take a big bite. You let out a moan in delight as the flavor of seasonings attack your tastebuds. It’s not too spicy, but it’s also not bland – making it one of the best sandwiches you’ve ever had.

“This is amazing. What’s in it?”

“Um.. swiss cheese, a mayo and chipotle sauce thing my mom put together, crushed chips, and seasoned chicken. My mom wanted to be different and used chicken instead of ham, I guess.”

“Well tell your mom that she’s a genius. This is incredible.”

Frankie sniggered. “I’ll pass it along. She’s an excellent cook. You’ll have to try it sometime.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

You both sat and ate quietly. No words were spoken – simply taking in the scenic view. You look over to Frankie, only to see him in a daze. There was a question that lingered in your mind and although you didn’t want to ruin the moment, you knew you had to ask. You whisper his name, hoping he would hear it, and he did. He slowly turned over to you and uttered a low yes.

“Why do you act differently when we’re together in public than in private?” You vocalized the confusion that lingered in your mind from the moment he flipped a switch at school. “You’re sweet, smart, and caring while we’re here doing this, but all you do at school is curse, skip class with the boys, and disrespect anyone that looks at you a little too long.”

Frankie knew this conversation would come. He didn’t think you would notice his attitude changes, yet here you were. He lets a sigh be exhaled through his nose as he shakes his head. “You just wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I act the way I do because that’s what people expect. They expect someone like me to fail and…You have no idea what this town… what these people… can do to you.”

“Frankie… I may not know what you’ve gone through in life, but what I do know is that you have my shoulder to lean on and my ears to listen when you need it the most. I like seeing this Frankie.” You sit up, resting your weight on your legs, and reach for his hand. “The Frankie that gets good grades and has a great sense of respect and responsibility – not the Frankie I saw at school today.”

He looks down at your interlocked hands and lets out a content breath. Frankie gives your hand a squeeze and gazes at you – not at your eyes… this look goes much deeper than that.

“Does your mother really believe I’d use you and toss aside the one person that decided to get to know me before they wanted nothing to do with me?”

You shrug, knitting your eyebrows. “She can think what she wants to think – just know that’s not the way I do.”

A cool breeze picks up as you continuously play with each other’s hands and sit comfortably in close proximity. Frankie reluctantly lets go of your hand and shimmies out of his leather jacket. He wraps it around your shoulders, making sure your exposed arms are somewhat covered. You take a lapel in each hand, pulling on them to wrap yourself with the jacket. Frankie’s heart skips a beat as he takes a mental picture of the way you looked wearing his jacket.

Frankie sits back down, but you nudge your way closer and closer to him. You feel like melting as you smell his cologne, from the jacket and himself.

“What are you going to do about Michael?”

Frankie looks taken aback from the sudden question. “Don’t worry that pretty little head about him. The boys and I will handle the trust fund baby. I’ll figure it out.”

“Are you going to get hurt?”

Frankie stretches his arm out, a quiet plea for you to come closer. You oblige and he immediately wraps his arm around you, placing a chaste kiss atop you head. “I don’t know.”

You put your head on his shoulder and hug him, both arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No one will get hurt if Mikey boy plays his cards right.” You look up and see his softened face, but stern eyes. The thought of Michael alone burns a flame in Frankie, a reaction he had no actual reasoning behind.

You stay like this for a few minutes, but you decide to lighten the mood.

“Psst…” you say. Frankie looks down at you with kind eyes.

“I know that no other… One will ever do… And I know that the answer's…All up to you.” you sing.

Frankie sniggers and rolls his eyes, but nevertheless joins you.

“Please Mr. Jailer… Won't you let my man go free.”

———

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont @danniburgh​ @curiouskeyboard

taglists + requests are open!

[burnsopale]

So back in August I ensconced myself in a cabin on a mountain to do some writing, and I decided to do a take on the classic “Volkov returns from prison”-scenario.

I got five chapters and 35 000 words in and I will never ever finish it because I have no dicipline. So I figured I could at least share some of the readable bits with you.

Working title: Ashen Characters in this clip: BBA, Russian boys, PPB, mention of the Euro-team Setting: 7 years after season one, Russia, a beyblade park in the evening Summary: Volkov has escaped from prison, attacked PPB headquarters and taken back Black Dranzer. The Russian boys have been living with the PPB, and were used and hurt in the attack. Yuriy left with Volkov for unknown reasons. Daitenji Kogoro has gathered the troops and sent them to Russia to find out what Volkov is up to. Meanwhile, Kai’s grandfather is on his deathbed, and Kai is struggling to deal with it.

The crowd swelled, until there was no way that Takao was going to get any kind of private conversation with his friends. He gave up on the notion for the present, and threw himself into matches. He played the kids who wanted to, holding back as much as he could and leaving Seiryuu simmering in the blade, but eventually they called for a match between Takao and Kai.

Takao loved blading against Kai; somehow, he could never do less than his best against Dranzer, but when Kai now took his place on the other side of the small, grounded dish, something felt off to Takao. Kai looked dull, like he was going to the dentist and just had to get it over with. He fitted Dranzer into the shooter with a look like he was miles away.

“Hey,” Takao said, having to raise his voice a little to get past the crowd. “Are you there?”

 Kai looked up, a little surprised. “What sort of trash talk is that? Are you there?”

 “Just checking. I’ll be in your care.”

 “You’ll be under my heel,” Kai said darkly, and now Takao knew something was wrong, but a beybattle had always been Takao’s way to get through to people, so he just bent his knees and raised Dragoon in front of him.

 “Tri, dva, odin! Idi strelyay!”

 Out of the corner of his eye, Takao saw Emily startle, but he’d have to wonder about that some other time because Seiryuu would not be contained any longer and came out roaring.

Dranzer took Dragoon’s attack head on. Seiryuu bent over it like he was confused as to why Suzaku wasn’t joining him. For the longest moment, Kai just stood there, while Takao watched in disbelief.

 Then, as if he was lifting a great weight, Kai breathed in and cried, “Suzaku!”

 Even the vermillion bird herself didn’t so much soar out of the bit chip as climb laboriously out. Seiryuu hissed, offended by this poor showing, and the battle was over in less than a minute.

 Kai picked up Dranzer and went to stand next to Boris and Kyouju without even commenting on the results. The audience was, thankfully, satisfied, but Takao was not.

 He played Eddie and got a much better match out of him; Trypio was one of those tricky blades that you needed strategy and forward thinking to beat.

 Afterwards he got a chance to say two words to Emily about Kai.

 “He is going through a tough time,” she said.

 “Yeah, but he doesn’t usually let it hurt his blading.”

 “He can’t still be grumpy about the finals?” she wondered.

 Takao shook his head. “Nah, he agreed Ralf deserved that one.”

 Emily nodded, biting her lip in pleasure as she thought back. “Ralf was incredible. It was a team win, but he had the best individual result. The data output was like a laden buffet table.”

 “Ooh, buffet! ... Did he lose at all?” Takao didn’t think he had, but he hadn’t been able to catch every battle.

 “Hmm. Rai came close; lightning is good against such massive holy beasts, and it was close for Kai too of course, but no one can quite top the sheer mastery Ralf has over Griffolyon.”

 “It’s not mastery; it’s teamwork,” Takao insisted, frowning.

 “Call it synergy, then,” she said, shrugging. “Ralf knows his business, that’s all I’m saying. They all do, those European bladers.” She chuckled. “You know, Ivan calls them Earthquaker, Wingshaker and Heartbreaker, from back before he learned their names.”

 Takao matched the nicknames to their right bladers in his head. “... What does he call Johnny?”

 “The hedgehog.”

 “What about you?” he asked, nodding to the dish where Max was getting ready to battle Steve. “Are you going to play?”

 She shook her head, a look of pain crossing her sharp features. “Trygator is ... missing. He was taken in the attack. Volkov has it.”

 For a moment, Takao found nothing to say. Inside he was boiling. “We’ll get him back, Emily,” he vowed, clenching his fist. “I swear it.”

 She smiled a dangerous smile, not unlike a crocodile’s. “Yes, we will.”

 Eventually the group detangled themselves from the crowd and began to journey home. The world was growing dark, but the sky was still pale above. Long stretched of road lay without light, which came in handy when they had to escape from a few fans who apparently wanted to know where they were staying.

 They stopped on the lawn outside the hotel where Emily and company were staying, and Takao finally got to ask his question.

 “What happened?”

 The others looked at each other, except Boris who looked down, and Kai, who now said a brief goodnight, reminded them where to meet in the morning, and walked away. Max made a soft sound, but didn’t try to stop him. Kyouju seemed torn between not wanting to pry and dying to know.

 Emily made it easier by briefly telling them of her encounter with Peter Trotty. “Turns out his real name is Trotsky. He’s one of three Borg spies that have been undercover in the PPB for years. Or rather, one of the three we’ve found so far.”

 “What did he mean by that thing he said? Baba who?”

 The Russian boys shifted their feet. Sergei’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl.

 Kyouju could, as usual, not help doing a bit of teaching. “Baba Yaga is the name of a witch in Russian fairy tales. She is an old woman who rides through the woods on a mortar, and lives in a house that stands on four chicken legs.”

 “Chicken legs?” Max echoed doubtfully.

 “She is sometimes an enemy, but can also help the hero or heroine, if they do the tasks she sets them.”

 “In this case,” Sergei said, “she is a real woman. She was in the abbey. She trained us, Ivan and me, and sometimes Yuriy.”

 “Don’t ask about her,” Ivan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I hear the creaking in my head all the time. I thought I was rid of it. I thought it was over!”

 “She is dead,” Sergei said with conviction. It sounded like something he needed to believe. “She was old when I came to the abbey; she must be dead. But they had her voice on a tape recorder and ... it’s hard to disobey.”

 “Fuck her!” Ivan exclaimed, and then grew suddenly pale as if he had said something dangerous. “No more,” he said, more lowly. “She’s a fairy tale now. Only fit for scaring children.”

 For a while they stood in silence, and then Kyouju asked the other question, the one that had been hanging over them all day. “Why did Yuriy go?”

 “Because he’s an idiot!” Boris said, holding up clawed hands like he would like to wrap them around Yuriy’s throat. He turned away and roared behind his teeth up at the darkening sky. “He’s a stupid mudak! Fuck!” He kicked a turf of grass so dirt sprayed up. “Fuck, fuck fuck!”

 They watched him stomp repeatedly on the uprooted bit of turf, and then move on to a flower that was unlucky enough to stand nearby.

 “What Borya said,” Sergei agreed.

 “But we’re to blame too,” Eddie added, pulling his jeans jacket around himself like he was cold. “We thought we were doing a good job making them feel at home.”

 “We thought Michael was taking care of Yuriy,” Steve said, stern with himself. “But Michael and Yuriy are nothing alike. It didn’t work out.”

 “And we didn’t notice,” Eddie finished.

 “Don’t talk like that,” Ivan hissed. “Like we were your homework!”

 “But you were,” Emily said in her factual, merciless way. “At first. Then you became our friends. Now you are ours, whether you like it or not. You won’t rest until Yuriy is liberated, but neither will we. He’s coming back home with us.”

 “We’re with you too,” Max said quickly.

 Takao and Kyouju nodded determinedly.

 “The first step is to figure out where Volkov is and what he is planning,” Kyouju said.

 “And that means getting to bed, so we are ready for tomorrow,” Emily added. “Come on, boys. I promised Judy I’d tuck you all in by ... well not this hour, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

 Takao, Max and Kyouju watched them go, Sergei grabbing Boris by the lapel and pulling him away from the flowers he was chewing up. Then they turned and headed for their own hotel and their beds.

 “What do you think we’ll find tomorrow?” Max wondered.

 “We’re going back to the abbey,” Takao answered. “We could find anything.” A feeling of foreboding was growing in his stomach.

 Takao surprised everyone by being the first to get up that morning. He was too keyed up to sleep any longer. He was digging into his second round of breakfast when the others arrived, but politely stuck around to keep them company until they too were finished. It gave him time for round three anyway.

 “You’d think I don’t feed you,” Dad said as he brought his plate to the table.

 “You’d think Grandpa doesn’t feed you,” Takao retorted, looking at the mountain of food on his dad’s plate.

 Kyouju sipped his tea, two slices of toast with honey lying neatly on a plate in front of him. “Like father like son, I suppose.”

 “They snore like father and son too,” Max said, yawning as he took a seat between Kyouju and Kai.

 Kai smiled. He had his own room.

 Their friends arrived from the other hotel a little before ten o’clock, and at ten precisely, two large black cars came to a halt in front of the hotel doors. A huge man stepped out of the first car. He had bushy moustaches and bushy eyebrows, and a great big belly, and he wore shorts, sneakers and a yellow Hawaii shirt that looked deeply out of place in the middle of the city. He shook hands with Takao’s dad, and with Kai and Emily.

 “Hello hello, everywan,” he said, sounding exactly as jolly as you’d expect, like a big Russian santa. “My name is Gregor Gregorovitsj. You can call me Gregor. I will be your guide today. I understand that some of you will be coming with me to look at the papers and other inventory that we cleared out of the abbey, while some others of you,” He looked to Takao’s dad. “Want to go see the abbey for yourself.”

 He looked at them expectantly. Then his eyes alighted on Sergei, and travelled to Boris, and down to Ivan.

 “Oh.” He said. He scratched his head. “... They didn’t tell me why you wanted to go there. Why would you want to?”

 “You haven’t heard about Vladimir Volkov escaping from prison?” Emily asked.

 Gregor looked surprised, and then a little embarrassed. “To be honest, nobody tells me anything. I am only archivist, but I speak English, so they sent me. I have never been guide before.” He frowned. “But if that man has escaped ... hmm ... that explains some things. I may not be told anything, but I do hear things.” He frowned a little more. Kai cleared his throat, startling him out of his thoughts. “But we should get going! Okay, those who want to go to abbey go in the first car; the driver knows way, and someone will meet you there to show you around. Everyone else, in second car with me.”

 “Who is going where?” Takao wondered. “I’m coming with you, Dad.”

 “As am I,” Kai said.

 “And me.” Boris took a step away from his own group towards theirs. “You won’t find anything without one of us going with you.”

 Kai turned to him. “Then it should be Ivan or Sergei.”

 “No,” Boris said simply. “It will be me.”

 Emily pushed her glasses up and surveyed her troops. “Sergei is taking point on the textual evidence, and Steve and I read enough Russian to aid him. Daitenji Kogoro mentioned a warehouse with inventory, so Eddie and Ivan are going there.”

 Kai rolled his eyes in disgust. “And how do we know you won’t have another episode?” he asked Boris bluntly. “You think going back to that place won’t trigger any memories?”

 Boris lifted his head stubbornly. “There will not be an episode. I am going.”

 “You are not safe,” Kai growled.

 “Stop it!” Takao placed himself between them, facing Kai. “If Boris says he will be fine, then he will be.”

 “Why?” Kai sneered. “Because you believe in him?”

 “Because I trust him,” Takao answered.

 Dad put a hand on Kai’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kai; we’ll be together the whole time. If anything should happen, we can handle it, but I think Boris knows best if he will be alright or not.”

 Kai shrugged off the hand. “I agree,” he spat. “I just also think he would lie about it.”

 Emily, Eddie and Steve were looking on in confusion and shock, while Ivan and Sergei’s faces were growing dark.

 Boris said something in Russian that was clearly an offer to throw hands, and Kai turned back to him like he absolutely meant to take that offer and go through Takao if he had to, until Max suddenly stepped in front of Kai and drove him backwards.

 “That’s enough, Kai!”

 Takao exhaled in relief as he saw Kai’s attention snap to Max with the irresistible awareness that Max always commanded of him.

 “This isn’t about Boris,” Max said, putting his hands on his hips and leaning forward like he was at work and lecturing one of his kindergardeners. “It’s about you. If you don’t want to go to the abbey, then you don’t have to! But don’t take it out on Boris!”

 Kai’s face got all red and pinched.

 Max straightened up and exhaled. “Kai.” He shook his head. “I’ll come too, and like Kinomiya-san says, we’ll go together, and if you’re scared I can hold your hand and then it will be fine-”

 “Just get in the car,” Kai said in a strangled voice and immediately followed his own advice.

 “Guess I’m coming with you,” Max said, nodding to himself like he thought he had done a good job, and Takao thought so too.

 Max had a way of diffusing – or confusing – Kai that sometimes came in handy.

 Takao just wished they could get to the heart of the problem. This was not about the abbey, he didn’t think so, though it was about going together, and about being lonely even when you were surrounded by friends.

 “Well,” Gregor said, swinging his hands back and forth by his sides. “That was awkward. Would you like to go now?”

 Kyouju decided to go with Ivan and Eddie to the warehouse, and so the teams were agreed upon.

 Takao didn’t know what Daitenji-san wanted them to find in that black stone labyrinth, but as they left the city centre and began to near the desolate edges where Volkov had picked up so many of Moscow’s orphaned and abandoned boys, his feeling of foreboding grew stronger. Something was waiting for them. Something they were not prepared for.

[samwritesforyou]

Booked

Diego x reader (the whole family is present at the beginning but as time goes on becomes more Diego-centric)

Summary: You have a summer house that is far away from any big cities, you’ve inherited it from your great-great-parents and you want to prove to your friends that you cannot possibly make an income out of it. So you submit the house at booking dot com for the lowest price possible. Your plan was working for years and you’ve been happy and content just by growing your own food and participating in the village’s community, completely forgetting about the offer you presented on booking. Until one day, seven siblings arrive at your place, saying they reserved themselves the whole house for the eternity of summer.

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, swear words (? but just a couple, mainly from Five)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: settling is post s2, so everyone looks accordingly. umbrella academy gets back into the timeline where no umbrella nor the sparrow academy exists, yet the world is still ending. mostly written out of nostalgia for my own summer house that my family sold years ago and i will never come back there, so i want it to live on at least somewhere

Summers were always hot in this little village that you lived in, especially with the climate change looming over humanity’s ignorant heads.

So you were actually relieved that you finally persuaded a local technician to help you fix the fridge that stopped freezing its insides for good two weeks already.

You just handed her the cash and waved her goodbye, also giving the lady a basket with apples and peaches that grew in your garden. You don’t have enough people eating your fruits and most of it goes into jams anyways.

You waited a little until her car disappeared into the horizon of the bumpy road near your house, seeing as it even got blurry in the end, as the air was literally melting the reality in front of your eyes.

With a swift movement you adjusted a cap on your head, went out of the creaky gate - which green color was peeling off into the original black metal that it was made with - and closed it behind yourself with a happy hum.

It was a twenty minutes walk to the nearest convenience store and it gave you just enough time to ponder about the recent weird thing that happened to you.

About three days ago you just got a random payment come to your bank account.

15 Euros. That was it.

No note, no name.

You decided to let it be, even though it did stir your mind in various ways.

Normally, when something like this happens, the bank realises the mistake in the recipient and takes the money back within 24 hours.

Either the person who sent it didn’t care that it went to the wrong place or bank decided to be generous with you.

Whatever the reason was, those 15 Euros could be used now to buy yourself a little more sweets than you usually do.

You never had to complain about how little money you actually have from living here and being more or less self-sufficient, but some random extra cash will make anyone smile in this capitalistic hell that you tried so hard to escape from.

.

.

After you came home you started sorting out groceries that you’ve bought, putting them into the right places.

Upon finishing you just plopped yourself on the bench near the big abandoned table in the room, looking around.

This house used to be alive. With a lot of your family members running around, making noise, sometimes fighting, but always generally just enjoying the good time at this place.

At the end of the extended room was a window, showing you the rest of the garden that you lovingly cared for every single day.

Under the window was a spacious kitchen counter, with a fridge and shelves for ingredients next to it. Then there was the entrance to one of the unused bedrooms with one bed pushed against the wall, which in turn was covered by a red hanging carpet. On a wall, yes.

You stopped tracing the room around with your eyes as you heard some rummaging coming from the outside.

After easily springing to your feet you saw black dots in front of you and your head was spinning. Damn you, iron deficiency!

A few seconds passed and you were collected again, rushing out towards the gates to the property.

You stopped in your tracks as you saw five people literally barging through your piece of land with suitcases and bags, bickering with each other.

Oh, nope. They were six, actually. A very tiny figure closed the gate after all of them made it in and started clumsily going forward on a tiny tartan road that lead all the way to the summer house.

“Klaus, stop fucking pushing around and help me with the bags, maybe?” said a man with longer curly hair and a goatee, clearly agitated at another person, who wasn’t holding anything except some bottle in their hand.

“Oh cut it, you two! We’re almost in the house, come on,” said a woman with straight black hair in the flowery dress and then she noticed that someone blocks their way.

Her eyes landed on you.

“Um... hello?” she said with an awkward smile, attempting a wave in your direction and continued, “are you the owner? We booked your house until the rest of the summer like.. a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open in the “o” shape, trying to grasp the reality.

So.... someone really booked your summer house after several years of no traction from booking and you had no clue.

That’s what the payment was for!

But..

“Oh,” you said, not knowing how to proceed about the situation, “well, you see.. um... I have nowhere to stay? This is my only home,” you started timidly, rubbing your hands together.

“Oh,” the woman seemed surprised and confused but quickly collected herself, “well, if you have enough beds to keep us all in then it’s no problem, I guess?”

“Yeah? Alright, great!” You smiled at the whole “squad” and looked at them all.

“Uhm.. my name is y/n! Welcome to my summer house, I guess,” you put your hands into the back pockets and shook your head a little into the direction of the house.

“Allison, nice to meet you,” the woman you talked to said, smiling invitingly.

“Diego,” almost spat the guy with the goatee.

“Klaus, darling,” said the person with the bottle in their hand, widening his arms in an invisible hug.

“Luther,” mumbled a big man in the back of them all.. he looked like he’s been through something.

Actually, they all do.

“Vanya,” chirped a girl behind the big- Luther, the corners of her lips lifting ever so lightly.

“Five,” said a child in the front, looking unusually angry, suddenly shortening the distance between the two of you, “as long as you’re out of our business you’re good to stay,” he literally sneered at you, pushing past you and going inside.

That left you kinda shook, but then Allison just apologised for “their brother”, so you decided to ask another question:

“So you’re all a family?”

“Yes, we’re all siblings. Adopted,” she said, actually following you inside, not as the little guy before who let himself in without even knowing the place.

“I think my place is not the best for so many people to sleep at though..” you said quietly, biting your lip.

“That’s why it was so cheap..” Luther wondered, looking around.

You had to calm yourself so you didn’t snap at your guest. You didn’t even know anyone would ever book your house, damn! What were you supposed to do?

In the end you spent some time showing them the rooms, starting with the first one that contained an old-fashioned sink and the water tank near it, which you needed to manually fill up with water, and the drain led to the bucket under it.

Very simple.

In the back of the room there was a dining table, on one side surrounded by the bench and the other with some mismatching chairs.

From this space you proceeded into the extended “hallway” that you stared at before your peace and quiet was ruined.

There was also an ancient literal furnace, on top of which you could actually lay on, you know, as in all the fairytales.

After that, there was another room entrance that contained two beds on each side (one of them pushed under the window), similar to the other room and a coffee table in the middle of the area.

When you all went back to the first place, there was a wooden staircase that led to the second floor.

There were two rooms. One had a king sized bed in the middle of the space, with a closet and various tables around the whole area.

The other one had a working table and a bed in the corner.

“And that is the end of the tour!” you proclaimed, as everyone got seated by the big table in the extended room, while you were making everyone tea and preparing some snacks.

“Great, I sleep on the furnace!” Klaus exclaimed, putting his hands in the air animatedly.

“I guess we can fit all of us in here, actually,” Allison was clearly thinking aloud, counting the members of the family and available sleeping places.

“You’re gonna take one of the beds, right?” she said, pointing at you.

“Uh.. yes! Upstairs, I think. The one with the small bed and a table,” you smiled at her and she nodded.

“Then I’ll be sleeping with Vanya in the king-sized bed and you guys can fight for who’s going to end up sharing the room,” Allison concluded, clearly enjoying herself.

“Funny of you to think I’ll have enough time to sleep, in our situation,” said Five, suddenly coming out from the doorframe into the room.

You didn’t even mention that he wasn’t there when you were explaining the plan of the house.

“What situation? There should always be time to sleep,” you chipped in, carefully smiling at the boy.

“Stay the fuck out of our business, I said,” he gritted through his teeth at you, which left you blinking in surprise as he went away again, out of sight.

“How... old is he again?” you asked with the confusion that a kid would be so rude to a stranger like this.

All of them kind of nervously laughed or mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

“It’s complicated,” said Vanya, smiling at you reassuringly.

How the fuck an age of your own brother is complicated?..

You heard the fancy-looking woman - Allison - sigh heavily and turn to you, shrugging.

“It’s just.. when our parents adopted him, he freshly got into the orphanage so he didn’t even have any documents about his birthday, blood type or anything. Apparently, he was really abused by his biological parents. Or whoever else, we don’t even know.”

“Oh.. I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, biting your lip. Didn’t expect to poke into any painful subjects.

“It’s okay, really, we’ve learned how to take proper care of him,” Allison said, putting her hand on your back with a smile.

When you excused yourself to continue with gardening and went outside, Allison just shook her head.

“Who says ‘it’s complicated’ when someone asks you about their sibling’s age, Vanya?” said Allison in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would settle the matter..” she muttered, playing with her fingers anxiously.

“It’s okay..” she smiled at her sister and then looked around the whole table, “look we’re here for the whole summer, so I think it would be better if we somehow told the owner at least partially about our powers so we’re not hiding all the time. We came here to have a safe space where we could train after all, am I right?” she looked expectantly at Luther who immediately started nodding along, agreeing.

“Or maybe,” started saying Klaus, already getting up from his seat and trying to crawl onto the furnace, skinny legs already dangling in the air, “we can just tell them we’re the umbrella academy, don’t you think?” he concluded, facing a wall with his face.

“But we checked that the umbrella academy doesn’t exist in this universe.. nor any other replacement of us,” reminded her siblings Vanya, fingers still intertwined on the table, firmly put together.

“I’m sure we’ll tell them one way or another,” said Diego, getting up just like his brother, making his way a bit further though, his objective clearly being the fridge.

He opened it and smirked at the beer present there, taking one can with him. His eyes then wondered to the window at the end of the room and he stepped closer, inspecting what is outside.

Apparently it was still their new home’s property, as he saw y/n working in the garden, repotting some plants under the tree.

His gaze stayed on them as he thought about various topics in his head, but then he decided to go out of the house, jumping down the wooden stairs leading to the tartan road, framing the whole garden.

You heard steps behind you, turning your head away from the the plants, only to meet a tall man in front of you, with a can in his hand.

“Hey, uhm..” he nervously put his hand on his neck, scratching it, “I just wanted to ask if it’s cool if I take some beer from the fridge?” he lifted the other hand with the mentioned item, giving it a little shake.

“It’s cool,” you replied, smiling softly at him, and then getting back to work, grabbing the plant by the root, moving it to another hole in the ground.

“Okay..” he retorted, biting his lower lip and scanned the area with his dark eyes.

There was an abandoned greenhouse with broken walls, greenery growing all around it, just next to the fence of the property. To its left was a wooden toilet booth with a typical round-shaped hole in the higher part of the door.

“I’m really sorry, by the way,” you started talking again, now finally done with your objective of the day, now plopping yourself next to Diego on the bench that he was chilling at, the surface creaking from the added weight, “I really thought nobody would *ever* rent this place,” you shrugged with a smile, now looking in front of yourself, closing your eyes and letting sunshine illuminate your face.

“Well.. uh.. then why did you put up on that website anyways?” he asked, clear confusion in his voice.

You sighed, shifting your body a little, getting into more comfortable sitting position, “It was a bet I made with my friends back in the day. A few years ago they told me I could actually rent this place and get income from it, not having to work a day in my life! Yet i told them that it’s not possible, and I wanted to prove that I was right by putting the advertisement,” you finished, finally opening your eyes, tilting your head at your new acquaintance.

You caught him staring at you, so he quickly turned away, now getting quite a violent sip out of the beer can.

“You should’ve put some timing on that bet then.. Let’s say, if it doesn’t get traction after two years you’ll finally delete the posting,” he said, after gulping some liquid.

That made you laugh and you couldn’t look away from him. His features were so.. delicate.

“Yeah, you’re actually right!” you admitted, slapping your thighs in excitement.

“Diego, my precious brother!” you two suddenly heard from the entrance to the house.

You lifted your eyes and saw a slender confide getting closer to you both, the man walking barefoot.

“Five said we’re all needed for a ‘family meeting’,” the guy literally put an air quotes with his free hand that wasn’t holding a glass, saying it in the mockingly serious tone, “so you better come with me and stop bothering this lovely person, alright?” he then proceeded sweetly, extending a hand towards Diego with a wide smile.

“God.. alright,” he answered and to your surprise took his hand, now brothers going away into the house, Diego briefly looking back at you, “Let’s talk later.”

You just nodded, finding yourself still smiling long before they were gone.

What is this funny feeling in the pit of your stomach?..

And why is one of their family members called by a number instead of a name?!

.

.

It was only the second day of your coexistence with the Hargreeves but it was already a wild ride.

Normally your morning looked like this;

You would wake up at a reasonable hour, maybe like.. 9am. You would go down the stairs from your room and make yourself some breakfast. While eating you’d either read a book or just listen to some music from your phone.

Then you’d do daily tasks, so taking care of the garden or some house maintenance, or both.

Then you’d do everything special that needs to be done only once in a while: a meeting with a friend, grocery shopping, attending a meeting with your neighbours where you decide on further upgrades of the village.

Then you’d draw some commissions, if there were any and after all of this you’d have late lunch that normally turned into dinner, concluding your day with doing your hobbies or rarely taking out your laptop and browsing the internet.

“Rise and shiiine!” you heard somewhere from downstairs, for some reason that person was also ringing a bell, making you immediately sit up in your bed.

You turned your head towards the mirror that hung across your sleeping space on the wall and you could see your hair standing up in different directions, cowlick upon cowlick.

You also felt tired, kind of not used to that feeling and shifted your half-closed eyes to the alarm clock near you.

It was... a bit past 7am. Who are those people to wake up that early?!

You lazily got up from the bed, yawning and stretching your arms up, feeling a few cracks here and there.

“Good morning!” first half of the sentence was muffled by the closed door to your room, but that quickly changed as it burst open, Klaus marching right in, his voice now uncomfortably loud for your sleepy ears, “I thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together and make you feel a part of the family, wouldn’t it?” he said with a genuine smile, looking at you.

You were sitting on your bed in pyjamas, hair all over the place, most unamused expression on the face, eyes half opened.

“Not a morning person?” he mused, tilting his head at you, “well, feel free to join or sleep more, I wouldn’t judge,” he continued and you saw in literal slow motion as he lifted his hand with a bell in hand, shaking it hard as he marched out of your room just in the same manner as he came in just seconds ago.

“BREAKFAST!!” he yelled with at least two octaves lower at his siblings, still ringing the bell that now was resonating in your brain in a highest pitch possible, making your head hurt.

Great morning.

But despite the general morning grumpiness you did find it endearing that Klaus decided to include you in their activities, making you feel less alone and - quite funnily - welcomed in your own house.

You slowly went down the stairs, hearing the lower floor full of different voices and it made your heart clench. You immediately thought of your family that made it feel alive like this in the past and a warm smile appeared on your face, as the Hargreeves huddled up around the smaller table in the room you descended from the stairs into, all making your appearance feel natural.

“Good morning,” you passed Luther that nodded in your direction alongside the phrase, as you went into the bigger room, seeing Allison cooking by the stove, window open.

“Oh hey, you’re up,” she said with a smile, “can you pass me some milk?” she asked, extending her hand into the air, already expecting said item.

“Sure!!” you hurriedly opened the fridge, giving her the thing she requested and she continued cooking.

You slowly looked around, seeing a blanket and some different things like cigarette boxes and teddy bears on top of the furnace, which made you realise that someone from the family has clearly claimed it to be their place for sleeping and you found it adorable.

“You can go sit with the others, I’ll bring it all in when it’s ready, Allison said, adjusting her black hair so it didn’t get in the way of preparing food.

“Oh.. okay!” you chirped, with a smile going back to the first room, and finding an empty seat between Diego and Klaus.

You almost sat already when Klaus sprang to his feet and took you by the shoulders, making you freeze on the spot, eyes wide.

“Klaus?” you asked, confused, “is that seat taken?”

“By Allison,” Diego quickly responded before his brother had any chance to and then the skinny man sat back on his chair, nodding with an awkward smile on his face.

“Yes, exactly. Sorry y/n,” he sighed and shrugged, clearly playing along Diego’s words, but you just let it go.

Instead you sat next to Luther, whom already opened his mouth but Vanya looked at him with a forced smile, raising a brow. At that, the big guy closed his mouth again, without making a sound.

Something.. is weird here. You shifted a bit in your seat, biting your lower lip.

The kid wasn’t here at all, you just noticed.

Then finally Allison came with the food and your anxiety lessened, as everyone started cheering for wonderful pancakes that she made.

She already wanted to sit on the seat that the guys told you was reserved for her, when suddenly Klaus did the same to her as he did to you.

“Klaus,” Diego hissed in a low voice.

Allison just looked at her brother, expression just as confused as yours was.

“What?” Allison deadpanned, putting a hand to her hip.

There was a brief second of silence until Klaus just burst into an emotional speech.

“Look, I know we’re all pretending that we’re normal in front of y/n but you all know that Ben always sits next to me and he’s sitting here right now, yet you all wanna make it seem like he doesn’t exist? I’m sorry that he’s a ghost, I’m sure he didn’t want to die either!” then after a moment he added, “Right, brother dear?” looking at an empty space near him.

Your brain clearly wasn’t catching up to what was just being said.

Pretending to be normal?..

“Great. Just fucking great, Klaus. I bet Ben would move, understanding the situation!” Allison waved her hands at him and the chair next to him with an annoyed voice.

“We just blew our cover, guys,” said Diego with pursed lips, looking absentmindedly at the table filled with food.

Soon enough they all started arguing and only when there was a sudden blue light in the room, and the kid appeared literally out of the thin air in front of your eyes, everyone fell silent, looking at him.

“Guys, I just did a search around the neighbourhood and—“ his blue eyes met with yours, full of shock and denial of what you just saw, “shit.”

He clicked his tongue and frowned and that was positively the last thing you remember before losing consciousness, everything around you turning black.

Too much of supernatural for one morning, that’s for sure.

Precious taglist:  @radcloudenthusiast​,  @spacenerdpascal​

NEXT PART→

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-First Day Out

Leave a request!

For @honestlytrulyv

You stand outside the prison gates, squinting from the bright sun and leaning against Oscar’s car. Today was finally the day you have been looking forward too for so long. Cesar and you had talked about this exact day all the time when Oscar had first gotten locked up. However as the years passed Cesar didn’t want to come see his brother any more or talk to him on the phone as much. So you weren’t really surprised that he decided to back out last minute and stay behind with his friends. You got a little upset with him, but calmed down when he said he would be at the party you had planned for tonight. You had actually planned this whole day out for Oscar as you guys drive back down to Freeridge. After picking him up you guys were going to eat the greasiest food you can find, then you were going to let him stop to get a proper hair cut and shave, and lastly now that Cesar wasn’t here you were going to drive over to a rest stop just outside of town to get in the proper attention you both deserve, since you two most likely wouldn’t be alone again until after the party.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the loud squeaking of the gates opening up, Oscar walking out in the familiar outfit that he was arrested in. You feel your heart clench, the tears already making a appearance as you run towards him.

“Finally.” You hear him sigh as you crash into him, Oscar wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face into your neck as he breaths in your familiar scent.

“Hi.” You say, your voice quivering,”You’re really here?”

“I’m here nena. I’m here.” He says pulling back to cup your face in his hands,”I’m here.” He repeats, as if at any moment this could all be a dream and he would wake up in his tiny cell again,”Kiss me.” He softly demands, pressing your lips to his with so much passion and fire. You stand on your tiptoes and tug him closer to you as you return the kiss. It seems as if time has slowed down, the small act of affection in reality only lasting a minute at the latest,”Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He says and pulls you toward his car,”My other baby.” Oscar whistles as he walks around the car,”Let me see the keys mami.”

You giggle and pull out the keys from your pocket before tossing them to him, Oscar catching them with ease,”You better get use to how clingy I’m going to be for the next few days.” You warn him after you slide into the car, presses up next to him.

“Please be clingy.” Oscar grins and places his arm behind you, putting the keys in the ignition and pulling out of the lot.

“What do you want to eat papi? I know you’ve been thinking about it.” You ask a few minutes into the drive.

“Damn you do know me better than I thought.” He chuckles as he drives down the long dirt road and off of the prison property completely,”I want a big bowl of birria and a quesadilla con queso y pastor along with a michelada. I’ve had this fucking meal in my head for the past few days now.” He admits, his stomach rumbling on cue.

You laugh and nod in agreement,”Okay, I’m sure we can find that.” You tell him, which turned out to be right. Twenty minutes later you guys sat inside a packed, run down restaurant, already having ordered as little old Mexican lady’s run around, trying to get everything in check.

“The more run down the better the food.” Oscar says as he grabs a chip, drawing it in the green salsa before he eats it in one bite,”So are you going to tell me why Cesar isn’t with us? Or are we just avoiding that?” Oscar asks curiously, not upset per say, well at least not with you.

“He’ll be at the party tonight papi. I think he was just nervous plus he’s not the same little boy he was. He’s older and more wise. He likes to hang out with his friends and go out to do stupid teenager shit with them. I think he’s even seeing some girl. I may or may not have heard him in his room a few months ago.” You shudder at the memory,”So its not you, it’s literally him. We’re not even that close anymore.” You exaggerate just a bit, Cesar was changing but you guys still talked and hung out as if you two were the siblings. You weren’t going to tell that to Oscar though. The truth was Cesar had just grown pissed at the fact that Oscar got sent to prison. He didn’t understand how Oscar can even be involved with a gang. You tried to explain and reason with him but gave up after a while. This was something the two of them would have to resolve on their own.

Oscar takes in your words, sighing in agreement,”I just miss his ass, I was hoping he would be here.” He shrugs, playing it off as he puts another chip in his mouth.

“Hey, I’m here.” You smile and lightly kick his leg under the table,”Besides it’s a good thing he didn’t come.” You wink playfully, blowing a kiss his way.

“Don’t.” Oscar groans and clenches his jaw,”You can’t talk to me like that right now mami. It’s been too fucking long and my hand wasn’t worth a shit in the pen.”

You giggle and reach for a chip yourself,”I’m sorry. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke and eat the salty fried tortilla before taking a drink of your limonada.

“We can save all that shit for later. Trust me.” Oscar informs with a shake of his head before taking a drink from his spicy flavored beer.

“Okay.” You say simply. You knew where he was coming from, you had went with out his touch as long as he has gone without yours. You can’t help but stare at him as he drinks and eats, you had missed this so much. You and Oscar were notorious for stuffing your guys faces everyday. You didn’t just miss that obviously, you missed every single thing.

You guys talk about the future, a small hand touch here and there, before the mass amount of food you two had ordered is being placed down on the table.

“Gracias.” Oscar tells the waiter, you offering a smile instead,”I don’t know where to start.”

“I do.” You sing as you reach for a taco de barbacoa. Taking half of it in one bite.

“Fat ass.” Oscar jokes as he leans over to wipe the side of your mouth.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking. I thought prison was suppose to make your swole not get a gut.” You joke, in all honestly he did get more fit, but you weren’t about to boost his ego.

“Chill mamas. I’m just playing with you.” Oscar chuckles, grabbing a quesadilla and dipping it in the soup before taking a bite. His eyes shutting as he savors something other than prison food for the first time,”Damn.” He mumbles in between bites. You smile as you see him enjoy his meal, something you take for granted out here in the free world.

“I’m glad you like it papi.” You tell him, grabbing something else to try.

~

After getting stuffed and paying for the food you decide to let Oscar drive a bit more closer to home before pulling over for a haircut.

Now you didn’t want to exactly sit in a barbershop and watch Oscar get his hair lined up and shaved, if this was any other day you would have told him to go by himself. However, if there was one thing he talked about missing more than you and Cesar it would be a getting a proper haircut. So as Oscar sits in the chair, giddy like a little boy you can’t help but be excited that you are even able to be here with him.

After you pay for the haircut, Oscar not liking that but not really having a choice, you to get back in the car to head the rest of the way to Freeridge.

“Damn papi. You look good.” You say, leaning over to kiss his cheek, Oscar’s grin wide as he drives. Already feeling like a brand new man.

~

“Can we stop over at lookout point?” You ask,”I have a surprise.”

“I thought the surprise was at the house.” Oscar says knowingly.

“Oh my good! Who told you? Was it sad eyes? Don’t even answer that, I know it was his stupid ass.” You groan

“Yeah, it was him. He spilled that info like a week ago, but I figured you would be throwing one anyway.” Oscar laughs

“Fine, there is a party but it’s not until later. So just listen and drive because I don’t want to have to share your attention just yet.” You pout

“I’ll do whatever you want nena.” Oscar says as he takes the exit, driving a few miles down the road until he pulls to a stop just feet away from the cliff. The other parking spaces empty just like they usually are.

As soon as he takes his hands off the steering wheel your climbing over and straddling him, your lips finding his with ease. Oscar responds quickly and wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss as he forces his tongue into your mouth.

You don’t know why but a few minutes in to the heated make out session you become overwhelmed with emotions,”I’m sorry.” You say and pull back from Oscar, covering your face as you begin to cry,”I don’t know why I’m crying.” You tell him a dry laugh escaping after embarrassingly. Oscar gently grabs your hands and pulls them away, looking at you with concerned eyes.

“Talk to me mami.” He tells you as you take a deep shaky breath.

“I’m just really happy.” You reply as you use your fingers to wipe under your eyes,”These last four years I felt like a piece of me was missing and now your back and I feel complete. It’s stupid I know, I didn’t mean to kill the mood and be such a cry baby.”

“Aye, it’s not stupid Y/N. I put you through four years of heartbreak. I know that baby. Every time you came to visit me I could seen the pain in your eyes even though you tried to hide it behind a smile. I can never repay you for all that you did while I was away. That’s why you’re my forever, mi corazón.(my heart)” Oscar says, each word more powerful than the last,”I know you’re to good for me. You can object all you want but we both know it’s true. You deserve someone who can put you in a mansion and spoil you like the reina(queen) that you are. Yet you put up with me and stayed by my side through my whole prison sentence along with taking care of my little brother. That’s why I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. So cry mami, get it all out right now because after today I don’t want to see tears come from your eyes that are caused by me.”

“I’m always going to stay by your side. No matter what because to me you’re always going to be good enough for me. Better than good enough. You’re my perfect half Oscar Diaz.” You say, blinking back the last few tears,”I’ll love you forever.”

“Yo también te quiero.”

~

The drive back to the house was quick and silent. Oscar holding your hand with his as you looked out the window enjoying the peacefulness. You couldn’t wait for more nights like this. Driving around with Oscar, the music blasting and the windows rolled down as you scream you heart out to the lyrics.

“Looks like they wasted no time in getting the party started.” Oscar says pulling into the driveway. The yard filled with people,loud music coming from both inside and outside.

“They never do.” You laugh and open up the car door to get out. Members of Los Santos instantly coming over to greet ‘Spooky’ in hugs and handshakes. You follow behind, letting the spotlight be on him for a while before you grab his arm,”Go hang out, I’ll bring you a drink.” You tell him, Oscar nodding and giving you a peck before getting dragged away. You try and spot Cesar but to no avail. You send him a quick text before heading into the crowded house to grab him a cold drink.

You smile at a few familiar faces in your search for Oscar, going over when you spot him sitting down outside on the couch that desperately needed to be thrown out,”Here you go.” You tell him as you squeeze your self down in between him and sad eyes,”Move it.” You joke with the tall skinny gang banger as you hand Oscar the cold can.

“Aye he’s my boyfriend too or did you forget?” He smirks, nudging your arm.

“Oh yeah? I’m sure your hyna would love to hear that.” You say amusingly, his blonde headed girlfriend a mere few feet away dancing with some other girls,”Surprised she stayed with you this long.” You tease, remembering her from a few weeks ago at the graduation party that was held. Sad eyes forcing you to tag along.

“Aye the hynas love me, she knows she’s going to have to share. Spooky included.” He says and pops his chest out as you scoff in disgust.

“Yeah fool? Well it looks like you may have some competition. Does the sharing rule apply to her too?” Oscar tells him and nods over to some guy that was trying to chat up his girl. Sad eyes gets up with a vengeance and heads over to deal with the problem, you and Oscar laughing at the scene.

“Enjoying your party so far?” You ask and lean your head on his shoulder.

“I am.” He reply’s and takes a drink of his beer,”Thought you said Cesar would be here?”

“I texted him. He probably fell asleep at Ruby’s. He told me he was going to show up, I don’t think he would intentionally bail.” You tell him reassuringly, not believing your own words,”I’m sure he’ll show up.”

“He better.” Oscar huffs

“Well...in the meantime how about a dance?” You ask, trying to play off the situation as you jump to your feet and grab Oscar’s free hand. He takes it and stands up letting you lead him more into the yard as some reggae song begins to play. You spin around and press your backside to Oscar, moving to beat of the song as Oscar grabs your hips and grinds against you while taking the occasional sip of his drink. Near the end of it he hugs you from behind, the two of you still dancing against each other as you turn your head to kiss him feverishly.

“Spooky come smoke!” You hear someone yell, causing you to stop your actions with a sigh.

“Go.” You smile against his lips,”I know you want too.”

“You’ll have all my attention tonight mamacita.” Oscar says seriously before walking away. You let him actually have some time with his friends as you head back in and sit with some of the other girlfriends that you were closer with. All of them bringing up how they were so happy for you and what they would do in your situation. You could only take about twenty minutes of the constant chit chat before excusing yourself and heading into the bedroom that you’ve had to sleep alone in for many nights. You lay back on the bed and kick off your shoes, pulling your phone out when you feel it buzzing, Cesars face popping up on your screen.

“Where are you?” You ask

“I’m walking home now. I just wanted to chill with my friends a little longer Y/N. Now that Oscar’s home I probably won’t get to do that any more.” He replies

“What are you talking about? What does him being home have to do with your friends.” You ask with a raised eyebrow, confusion laced in your tone.

“I’m going to just end up getting jumped into the gang, it’s inevitable and you know it. I don’t want to drag my friends into that lifestyle.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting strange? You think Oscar’s going to make you join Los Santos? Are you kidding me Cesar? He wouldn’t do that. If he even tried I would personally kill him. How did you even come up with that idea?” You ask him, obviously you loved your boyfriend but the gang life was not something you would want for Cesar.

“It’s life Y/N. It’s my destiny.” Unknown to you in just 6 weeks Cesar would in fact be getting jumped in.

“It’s not destiny, ugh look just hurry and get home. You don’t need to think about your brother like that , me and you will have a talk later. He wants to see you Cesar, he’s been stuck in a cell for four years so don’t come here and say any smart remarks about Los Santos or whatever you have in your head.” You warn him,”It’s suppose to be a happy day, so be happy.”

“Fine Y/N. I’ll be cool.” You hear him sigh in defeat.

“Good. Hurry up, you know it’s not safe to be walking the streets at night by yourself.” You tell him before hanging the phone up and flopping back down on the bed.

“That’s why he’s been so distant the past few years?” You hear a voice come from the door way.

“I guess...I knew it had to do something with you and the gang but not to that extent.” You say admittedly, turning around on the bed to face your boyfriend,”It makes sense for him to think like that Oscar you can’t really be upset.”

“Still, he didn’t have to pull away from me. We could have talked about that shit. If he really doesn’t want to be a part of Los Santos of course I’d back him up. He just wouldn’t be able to run to me or my homies if he ever gets into trouble. And trouble is always stirring up.”

“Well then he can run to me.” You shrug,”And then I’ll run to you and you love me to much to not help.” You smile and stand up,”Let’s go enjoy the rest of your party. He should be here any minute anyway.” You say not wanting to talk about any of this right now.

“Aight, fine.” He gives in and takes your hand to head back out to the front yard, letting you slide your shoes on first. He takes his seat once more, this time pulling you into his lap. He lights up a cigarette and makes conversation with the Santo next to him as you zone in and out of the conversation not really interested in what the Prophets had going on.

“Mano!” You hear Cesar call out as he walks up the drive. You smile and slide your self onto the arm rest so Oscar can get up to properly greet his little brother.

“Look at you fool! Finally hit puberty and shit.” Oscar says and pulls him into a hug, talking into his ear as they hold each other for a few moments. Probably saying that they would sit down and talk tomorrow about everything. They slowly release each other, the both of them joining you on the couch.

“Thanks for not bailing...you’re gonna be on clean up duty for getting here so late.” You tell Cesar quietly, who reluctantly agrees, before turning your attention back to Oscar for the remainder of the party, smiling as Cesar plays nice and actually talks to Oscar about what he’s been up.

~

“Have fun!” You call out to the younger brother who held a trash bag in his hand, picking up all the garbage that had formed, at least sad eyes offered his help so Cesar wasn’t completely alone,”Because we sure are.” You say softly to Oscar as you practically

drag him into the bedroom and slam the door.

“Side note, not on birth control anymore so make sure you pull out.” You tell him as the two of you quickly undress, not wanting to waste anytime.

“That’s okay with me.” He answers, grabbing you as soon as every article of clothes was gone and on the floor,”Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long.” He groans, grabbing a handful of your ass, tossing you on the bed after.

“Me too.” You say as you meet his gaze, sitting up on your elbows and waiting for his next move.

Oscar grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed causing you to yelp in surprise. He kisses up your leg, getting to your thigh and beginning to leave a love bite,”Ah fuck.” You say and grab onto his head, the skin getting sensitive when he does it for a little to long.

“Sorry mamas.” Oscar chuckles and looks back at the large bruise in delight, moving to you other thigh to repeat the process.

You bite down on your lower lip and grip the bed sheets,”Fuck Oscar!” You squeak,”Enough papi.” You say as you take deep breaths, your thighs in pleasurable pain.

“I can’t help it, I just want to mark you up and let everybody know that I’m back.” He admits as he bends your right leg up,”Let me make it up to you.” You nod eagerly in agreement and look down at him as he inches closer to your throbbing core.

As soon as you feel his tongue on you, your head gets thrown back and your eyes squeeze shut. Small moans coming from you,”Yes papi.” You manage to get out, when he focuses on your clit, he hums against you and stays in position.

It only takes a few more minutes before you’re a crying mess underneath him, your first orgasm that hasn’t been caused by your fingers, intense and overwhelming. Oscar makes his way up your body, letting you taste yourself when he gets back up to your lips.

“All nighter?” Mumbles against your mouth

“All nighter.” You agree, the both of you taking turns and bringing each other’s body’s to multiple highs.

~

“Suns nearly up.” Oscar mentions a few hours later as he lays in bed next to you, the sheets low on his hip and a joint in his hand.

“Good. We can lay in bed all day, yeah?” You yawn, cuddled up to his side.

“Definitely.” He says, blowing out smoke simultaneously

“I’m kind of scared to go to sleep.” You tell him as you let your eyes close tiredly.

“Why’s that mami?”

“Just feel like I’m going to wake up and yesterday will be all a dream.” You laugh softly at the thought, getting drowsier as the seconds tick by.

“I feel the same.” He tells you with a yawn of his own, reaching over to place the joint in the ashtray,”But it won’t be. I’m home, right where I belong.” He says and turns on his side to spoon you.

“Hmh, home.” You smile lazily, dozing off completely in his arms. Oscar places a kiss to your head before burying his face in your hair. He knew that no matter what life threw at him he was never letting himself go back to prison. He couldn’t leave you or Cesar again, before being pulled into the best sleep he’s had in a while he made that promise to himself. A promise in which he intended to keep.

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC XI

Parts 1-10 linked in bio!

Only somewhat canon compliant.

Song: sex (catching feelings) - EDEN

Rating: M; sexual content, swearing, mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: 4261

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Eleven: Tequila Flavoured Sutures

And ring in the New Year they did, for hours and hours and hours. There was little concern about the noise they were making due to the fact that everyone was passed out from alcohol by that point.

—-

It took almost the entire month of January until Suki had a day off, in fact, two days off. She skipped over her birthday on the 18th, opting for takeout and a movie (and not telling anyone it was her birthday so they wouldn’t make a fuss). Yay to twenty-eight. Her plans for her days off initially involved those chips and candy she didn’t get to indulge in before; but then she thought about Bryce’s words the last time ‘…and you didn’t even think to invite me?’ And immediately caved. She did want to see him after such a long time. Especially after how he was in bed at New Years…

Santa Fe: 👃yours?

Scalpel Jockey: i finish in a couple hours?

Santa Fe: cool, i’ll be there

Scalpel Jockey: 😈

So after a couple of hours Suki arrived at Bryce’s place. Pretty much as soon as she stepped through the door she was rushing Bryce’s shirt off.

“Woah, someone’s eager.”

“It’s been a little while.”

—-

A chunk of time and a few rounds later, Bryce and Suki caught their breath on his bed. Suki wasn’t ready for the night to end, she was pretty horny still, and she had the day off tomorrow, too.

“Hey,” she grinned with mischief and sudden inspiration in her eyes, she had missed out on birthday fun after all, “wanna get drunk and do body shots?”

“Absolutely,” Bryce bit his lip and his eyelids sunk with desire. Suki already knew this would be an interesting night.

They partially dressed and headed into the kitchen to grab Bryce’s alcohol. He crouched down to a little cupboard in the corner of his kitchen.

“Oh.” He pulled a bottle of rum from the cupboard. There was barely anything left in it.

“Shit,” Suki laughed.

“I can grab something from the convenience store?”

“Eh, why not, I’ll come along.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Some fresh air might be nice after all that… exertion.”

So Bryce and Suki put on the rest of their clothes and headed out to walk to the store. The late January cold was biting but neither of them noticed much.

On the walk they talked about everything and nothing, like they were old friends catching up after too long away. Suki tried to ignore the fact that their hands brushed when they walked too close together. That the cold metal of his rings sent a jolt through the nerves in her fingers. She also tried to ignore the fact that made her think about holding that hand. Back on the first day, when they’d danced to The Stone Roses, when he’d asked if she wanted to be adored and made her scramble under his gaze. And then the many times she’d gripped his hand while he was fucking her into oblivion, letting it press her own into the mattress with pressure, his fingers fitting between her own desperately and needing like puzzle pieces. Her nails digging into the back of his hand and vice versa. She remembered how that first time and all the times since their hands had felt right, like an old key and lock with a very specific shape.

Once they reached the store, they picked up two bottles of tequila, and some fresh limes.

“I’ll pay,” Bryce rushed in front of her, “I’ll keep whatever’s left over.”

“Not if we drink it all,” she teased.

“That’s 70cl each, I think not,” Bryce chuckled as the cashier put the bottles in their over-used old plastic bag for them. Suki pulled the full bag from the counter once Bryce had paid.

“Can’t handle it?”

“Thanks man,” Bryce said to the cashier and they began to make their way outside. “As doctors I think we both know 70cl is like, death limits.”

“Long term, maybe,” she shrugged. When she saw the look Bryce was giving her, she added, “I’m joking, you dumbass! I’m not sure why you even bought two bottles.”

“Eh, saves coming down here again.”

“Lazy-ass.”

They pushed open the door to step into the cold outside. Bryce shook his head affectionately and laughed at Suki, despite the conversation being barely funny.

As he laughed, Bryce stumbled backwards off the step up to the shop and into a man drinking just outside the store.

“Oops, sorry man,” he grinned an apology. It was lighthearted and accidental and that should’ve been the end of it. But this dude did not look happy.

“Hey Buddy, are you looking for a fight?”

“No, not at all – just an accident, dude.”

“Are you fuckin’ sure?” The man signalled down to the ground where a vodka bottle was smashed into large pieces.

“I’m sorry, I’ll buy you another.”

Suki was beginning to feel very stressed. Confrontation was her least favourite thing ever. She pulled one of the tequila bottles from her bag.

“Here, sir. Have this. He really didn’t mean to break it.”

“Tell your boyfriend to be more careful,” he spat.

Suki didn’t want to provoke him any more by correcting him, but she also didn’t want him to keep talking smack. Hearing this guy get so worked up over Bryce’s mere mistake was enough to give Suki a major adrenaline and confidence boost.

“He tripped, and then apologised immediately. We offered to buy you another bottle, and even offered up our own. Maybe you need to calm down.” Her voice was slightly raised and she was starting to see red from anger.

“Suki-“ Bryce started, holding a hand out as though to shield her.

But this man was very intoxicated and clearly in the mood to be a dick, because he walked over to Suki and shoved her to the floor. It was like everything was moving in fast forward because it happened in just seconds. And then all of a sudden Suki was on the other side of the coin and in slow motion, stumbling down to the concrete. In the process the tequila in the dishevelled bag in her hand also smashed through the worn plastic and to the floor and Suki, in trying to break her fall, stumbled back on her hands. She winced as her hand dug right into one particularly sharp shard of glass.

“Shit.”

The man’s eyes widened as he noticed what he’d done and the absolute rage and contempt on Bryce’s face. Bryce was furious. Suki had never seen him so mad. Not even that day he’d lost the surgery. And it wasn’t cartoon smoke-out-the-ears fury either, it was scary. Pure. The drunkard was clearly terrified by Bryce’s expression and his tightly clenching fists and he scarpered.

“HEY! ASSHOLE!” Bryce shouted after him, running down the road after him a bit. Suki was surprised at how fast he was running. He got a little ways down the sidewalk when the other man crossed a traffic-filled road. Bryce looked back and saw Suki on the floor - he knew his priority was her.

He returned to where she was now sat on the floor, examining the glass shoved into her hand and crumbs of concrete around the area, too. The aroma of tequila mixed with blood was overwhelming. Suki was honestly feeling a mixture of shell-shock and dizzy headiness.

“Fuck,” Bryce said, crouching beside her and taking her hand in his like the very limb was made of glass. “I’ll fucking kill him. Does anywhere else hurt? Are you okay emotionally?”

His deep brown eyes searched hers, desperate concern clouding them. All traces of the absolute anger of before were gone, only solicitude and tunnelled focus on the woman before him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bruise on my butt but I’ve had worse. What a dick.”

Bryce held the underside of her hand in both of his, securing her wrist steady, and scrunched his face up as he inspected it. “We need to get the glass out of this.”

“Easy, it’s only the one piece.” Suki tried not to yelp as she pulled the shard from her palm.

“Suki!” Bryce chastised.

“It’s all good, see?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just do that after nine years of medical training.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, hoping her eyes were telling him so too. Sure, it hurt, but it wasn’t enough to make a big deal out of.

“You should let me take you to the emergency room.”

“Bryce. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

He winced as he looked at the blood still pouring from the gash in her hand. “I swear I’ll deck that guy if I ever see him again. It’ll heal much better if you go to the ER and get stitches. The last thing a doctor needs is nerve damage.”

“Bryce.”

“Fine, then you’re coming back to mine and letting me stitch it.”

“Bryce!” Suki was feeling like a broken record, but honestly at that moment, a combination of shock and the odd feeling Bryce’s eyes gave her was making it a little difficult to access her full word library.

“Don’t wear my name out,” he winked, keeping one hand on hers and placing the other round her waist as he helped pull her up from the ground. She was sure to grab the unaffected tequila bottle and limes with her functioning hand.

“I could’ve stood up by myself you know, my legs are fine.”

“I’m keeping this hand so you don’t do anything else to it,” he said, taking Suki’s wrist to hold her bleeding hand above her heart, and began to pull her along with him. She sighed but let him pull her along, anything to get him not to go after that guy. She didn’t need the further mortification.

The walk back had lost the vibe of the walk there; solemn and sober. Mostly filled with Bryce muttering things about the man and retained asking of Suki’s well-being.

Bryce held her wrist the entire way, catching most of the leftover dripping blood on his own hand.

They reached Bryce’s apartment and he unlocked the door for them, closed it behind him, and then led Suki over to the sofa.

“Stay there,” he instructed before disappearing into the kitchen. Seconds later he re-emerged with a sizeable first aid kit.

“That’s big,” Suki laughed, a little more colour in her cheeks now that they were inside, “I would say you’re compensating for something but...”

“But you know I’m not,” he grinned smugly as he perched beside her.

Bryce was ever so delicate as he held Suki’s hand and cleaned away the blood with an antiseptic wipe. She winced the first time the cool chemical wipe made contact with the gash which caused Bryce to immediately stop and look at her. She gave him a little nod to continue. He did his best to be careful as he moved the skin around a bit under his phone flashlight to see if any glass was lingering.

“I swear Suki if this heals and there’s still glass in there because you wouldn’t let me take you to the ER, you’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Fine, but I trust your 20/20 vision and steady scalpel hand.”

“As you should.”

Once the wound was clean and Bryce had checked multiple times for fragments of glass, he pulled his suture kit from the box.

Watching Bryce steady the curved needle end in some tweezers was artful. He was so practised, so sure. The way his pretty features furrowed together slightly in focus was magnetising. She was amazed at how steady his hands were, how such large appendages could look so fine and delicate. Each stitch pulled through was neat and even, Suki’s eyes flicking between the stitches and Bryce’s facial expression. It was piercing her skin but it was like she couldn’t feel it. His other hand remained beneath hers, holding it up and keeping it from shaking. Then Bryce secured the stitches and started to wrap some bandage around for extra protection.

Bryce finished off his bandaging by tucking it in at the back of her hand. He held her hand, still.

“It’s going to scar,” he sighed.

“What’s a doctor without a few scars?”

“Touché.”

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It was no question.”

Suki couldn’t help but notice the way Bryce’s thumb soothed the back of the hand it was holding. She looked up to the clock. It had only been an hour since they’d left for drinks. Eventful hour.

Eventually Bryce seemed to notice his hand and removed it from hers.

“What about those body shots then?” She smirked.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s a cut on my hand, I was planning on doing these shots with my mouth…”

Bryce raised his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Well, we did manage to salvage one bottle.”

“Not to mention it has been secured by ‘the best surgical intern at Edenbrook’.”

“Oh you’re damn fucking right. Fine, you know how to convince a guy. We’re gonna take it careful though, okay?”

“Deal. On which I will not shake my hand.”

He laughed and got up to fetch the shot glasses from the kitchen, beckoning her over.

“The counter will be best.”

Suki laid down first, letting Bryce slip her top over her head (with which he was incredibly careful with her hand), and slide her pants down her legs until she was laying on his kitchen island in only her underwear.

“Now, this is a sight that could encourage me to be in the kitchen more,” Bryce laughed, trailing a finger up and down her arm and causing her to tremble.

“Still haven’t learned any recipes, huh?”

“No. But there’s no way in hell we’re talking about cooking right now.”

Bryce licked a finger and trailed it slowly between Suki’s breasts, then sprinkled some salt over that area. He rested the lime wedge on her stomach. Finally he filled a shot glass with the spirit and placed it in her mouth. She was trying not to laugh too hard so that she didn’t spill the tequila all over her face.

“Ready?” He smirked. She lifted her good hand in an ‘ok’ sign.

As Bryce leaned down towards Suki’s chest, his face was hungry, craving. That look was making Suki’s stomach flip all kinds of directions. He sensuously licked his tongue up between her breasts, catching each grain of salt. He laughed a little as he moved to collect the shot glass in his own mouth. Their lips touched briefly as he secured it in his mouth, then he threw his head back and downed the shot immediately. Then rather swiftly Bryce moved down to Suki’s stomach to suck all the juice from the lime and counter the sharp tequila flavour.

“Okay, that was a really good idea,” he exhaled in the way one does after a strong shot of alcohol. Bryce took another three shots from various parts of Suki’s body; for the last two she lay on her stomach and he used spots such as the nape of her neck, small of her back, and asscheek. The two of them were a messy mix of laughing the whole time, and really enjoying the whole thing.

“Right? My turn now.”

Bryce and Suki switched places, and he threw all his clothing bar underpants off towards the lounge.

Suki used her tongue to dampen the line in the middle of Bryce’s abs for the salt, balanced the shot glass precariously on the flat part of his chest, and placed the lime in his mouth.

She was slow and tantalising as she lapped up the salt, swift as she took the shot, and then there was the lime. She leant down to suck out the sour juice, but kept the lime in his mouth the entire time she drained it. It was an odd but exciting semi-kiss.

After a couple more shots Suki had a new idea.

“Wait, wait,” she laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What?”

“What if… I poured a bit on your stomach and licked it up…” she was laughing a lot, but it was obvious the idea appealed a lot to her.

“Do it.”

She placed a hand on his stomach to steady him before she planned to carefully pour the liquid over him.

“Hey, careful with that hand,” Bryce nudged, noticing it pressed flat on his body.

“Yes, yes, Dr. Lahela,” she teased.

Time seemed to fly by as the pair took shot after shot, broken up by messy intoxicated kisses, neither realising that Suki’s tolerance was far lower than Bryce’s. After losing count, they wordlessly abandoned the game, relocating to dance around stupidly in their underwear in the living room. Suki may or may not have been swigging tequila directly from the bottle at that point.

A number of songs played and then:

“I’m… pretty drunk,” Suki laughed, closing her eyes and letting herself sway a bit.

“Same!” Bryce enthused, before Suki began to topple over towards the sofa, “woah! Okay, you’re more drunk than me.” He giggled as he caught her fall. Now he was sitting on the floor with Suki’s jelly-like body in his arms. He kept a weary eye on her bandaged hand.

Yes, Bryce was drunk, but the moment he needed to be sensible or protective it was like a switch went off in his brain.

Her eyes were still shut and a blissful smile spread over her face. “Kiss me.”

Bryce leaned in and gave her a chaste peck to the lips.

“I know you can kiss better than that,” she echoed his words from their epic kiss.

“Not when you’re drunker than me I can’t.”

“Boohoo.”

“We should get you home. I’ll come with, I’m not sure I’m comfortable putting you in an Uber alone.”

“I don’t think I can walk very far, Bryyyceee.”

“Okay, you can have my bed then. I’ll take the sofa.”

“Nooooo,” she brought up her limp hands to grab either side of his face, visibly wincing a bit when the bandaged one made contact with his face. “Sleep with me.”

“Clothed? Sure.” Bryce took her damaged hand in his own and held it away from any pain risks.

“Nopeeee,” Suki’s remaining clumsy hand began to slide down Bryce’s chest and fiddle with the band of his boxers. He laughed and grabbed them both with his free hand to stop her.

“I’m not having sex with you again tonight.”

“Meanie.”

“Okay.” He chuckled again.

“But will you sleep with me? Like, to make sure I don’t throw up in the night or something.”

“Sure, miss tequila.”

Bryce stood and pulled Suki up with him, her eyes fluttering open at the movement, and supported her in the walk to his bedroom.

“Are you cold? I have some pyjamas if you’d like,” he offered when they got there, still holding her tightly to his side.

She shook her head, but didn’t seem sure. She looked up to Bryce with wide eyes and a startled expression like she was only just really seeing him.

“Bathroom,” she choked out, and Bryce rushed her towards his en-suite. He supported her all the way to her eventually emptying the contents of her stomach into his toilet bowl.

He held her hair back from her face as she very inelegantly upchucked into Bryce’s toilet a few times.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up at him, eyes wide and apologetic, “I didn’t mean to drink so much I’m just…” nervous around you. Stupidly feeling ways I shouldn’t for my fuck Buddy. Wanted you to see me as fun and free-spirited. Now I’m just embarrassing myself.

“You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s okay.”

Once it was clear nothing else was coming out, Bryce helped Suki drink from a glass of water, and briefly left the room for her to pee.

Bryce was gentle as he ran a spare (unused) toothbrush around her mouth and directed her head to the sink each time to spit.

Suki wasn’t coherent enough to ramble all her apologies and thanks’, but she was so grateful. Could this man stop being so amazing, please? I’m trying to stop being weird, here.

Eventually Bryce was able to help Suki into some of his pyjamas, somehow without looking at all. Seeing a very drunk naked girl is not the same, even if he had seen said girl naked many times prior. Then he helped her into bed and she collapsed against his pillow like a rag doll. He climbed into bed beside her, careful to keep his distance.

“Bryce…” she slurred, the sleep clear in her voice. “You’re a really great guy. I’m glad we’re…” Suki was going to say friends, but it felt wrong coming out of her mouth at that moment. “I’m glad I know you.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I know you too.” Bryce reached up a hand to stroke her cheek. She sighed into his hand, moving a bit cat-like.

“Since you wouldn’t fuck me, will you at least cuddle me?”

Bryce laughed. “Of course.”

“You are so great. So great. Great guy.” As she mumbled these words drunkenly it was clear the unconsciousness was taking over.

Bryce rolled towards her and cradled her into his chest, holding her tightly as though it had been a long time coming.

Bryce’s breaths came gently over Suki’s forehead. And after a few minutes, when he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he spoke ever so quietly.

“If only you knew what a screw up I was,” he muttered. Suki may have been drunk and spewing shit she wouldn’t sober, but her ears were working fine. And she would remember this in the morning. Despite the intoxication she knew such out of pocket words would be something she’d recall. She knew then to keep as still as she could, not alerting to him that she was awake or coherent.

—-

When Suki woke up, her pillow was hard. Her duvet was gripping her waist kind of tightly, too. As she nuzzled into the pillow her senses were invigorated with a sudden and familiar scent: suddenly most of the nights events clocked in her brain.

Sex with Bryce. Walk to convenience store. Accidental beef with drunk man. Damaged hand. Bryce stitching up said hand. Body shots. Lots of body shots. Random blank moment. Oh god - throwing up in Bryce’s toilet. Being dressed by a closed-eye Bryce. Finally falling into bed. Those words.

What the hell could he have meant by that last night? If only I knew what a screw up he was? As far as I’m concerned right now he’s an angel sent from above to deal with a problematically drunk Suki.

He was breathing gently beneath her, quiet noises at each exhale. She noticed as she listened to the rhythm of his heart, that her heart was beating in time with his.

Maybe she should’ve left. After all, she’d ended up causing a lot of trouble for Bryce. And, she’d stayed the night. Maybe if she left before he woke up it wouldn’t count that she’d broken the rule.

But before she could truly agonise over her decision, Bryce stirred, blinking awake and looking down at her.

“Hey,” he smiled. To Suki’s surprise his arm remained around her waist. Okay, I’m surprised he doesn’t hate me. Then again, he wouldn’t be the type to be open about hating someone.

“Hey,” she replied quietly, looking up at him from his chest. “So… I was pretty drunk last night.”

“Yeah. I thought I was too and then you fell over. The decline was pretty quick after that.”

“I’m so sorry. That you had to see me like that, look after me, and then I hijacked your bed too… it wasn’t appropriate of me and it was unfair on you.”

“It’s okay, Suki. You’d do the same for me. We’re friends and making sure you’re okay and looked after is important to me,” he nodded sincerely before grinning and adding, “plus, now I have plenty of blackmail material.”

“God I was awful wasn’t I?”

He chuckled.

Oh shit. “Did I say anything really bad? If I did please ignore it because I talk out of my ass when I’m drunk I’m sure it was utter nonsense.”

“If you did, I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

Ughhhhh. She groaned loudly and buried her face into his chest so that she didn’t have to see that stupid smirk. Now my mind will race about what I could’ve said for the rest of time.

Suki actually felt like hitting Bryce as his large hand slowly soothed her back.

He had to stop doing so much for her, being so exemplary, because it was adding to a problem that had been brewing in Suki for a while. He’d comforted her in the supply closet twice, he’d looked after Tommy, he’d held her hair back while she was sick and let her stay the night, and he’d stitched up her wound so carefully and precisely. He’d even nearly beat up that guy for her.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

She’d broken her promise, because it wasn’t just about sex anymore. Truthfully, maybe it never was.

There was absolutely no way she could swing it any longer. Suki Moore liked Bryce Lahela. As more than a friend, more than a body. She was enamoured by him, and had no clue what to do about it.