#give me this man and a private room and about twenty hours and it’s OVER

[wildsaltair]

no thoughts head empty just 👀👀👀👀

[lillaydee]

In Time

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

---

You waited all morning for him to pick you up, as promised. He insisted that he would. No need to get a car, Sweets. I’ll get the car. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go together. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’ll be there for you Sweets. You know that, right? I love you, Sweets. Benny was like a father to me, too. Of course I will be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

The service was due to start in an hour. He was still not here. He was two hours late. Calls went straight to voicemail. You were supposed to be there already, greeting the guests. Fuck this. You grabbed your purse and keys and left, driving yourself to the service. Who cared if you arrived in your old beater rather than a fancy town car, right? So long as you got there.

The traffic in LA was no joke. Hence the plan to leave three hours before the service. You made it with five minutes to spare. You were ridiculously disappointed in yourself. You fell for his sweet talks again. He was no longer the sweet, dependable, considerate David you met 10 years ago. He was Dave Landon now. Successful, sought after, crazed over. And you were still the same boring old Amelia, the simple vet, who hadn’t fully practiced for the last three years, ever since Benny got sick.

You rushed in, the pews in the small room already filled with Benny’s old friends, mostly his age. You apologized profusely to the proprietor, who kindly waved your apology off, already aware of the reason you were late. You took the opportunity to go to his casket, and studied the face of the man who took you in, raised you as his own, and made you who you were today.

He looked good. He was right. This place would do a good job, he had said, and they really did. He looked his age, not the shriveled old man the disease had turned him into. Your heart ached at the memory of your dashing uncle in his prime, looking like a movie star, picking you up in his fancy car on your first day at school in a strange country, a far too glamourous private school, where you looked like a twelve-year-old, while the other girls looked twenty.

When your own parents died Benny had flown back to the UK overnight, being your only family left. He officially adopted you and took you with him from the small English countryside farm you had grown up in and brought you to LA where he owned an art gallery, to live with him. His partner left him for refusing to give you up, and he never had a serious relationship again. You lost count of the number of times he had shut the door on his ‘friends’ who knocked on his door late at night for a good time just because you were there. His life became about you. He paid for you to get the best education you could get, and you managed to get a degree in veterinary medicine back in the UK, him scheduling his work to coincide with your breaks there so that he could spend as much time with you. The day you graduated he was cheering for you so loudly, his voice alone overpowered the claps and music, his eyes glistening with tears at your success.

So when he got sick, you stopped everything to take care of him. David had landed his role of a lifetime, and had asked you to move in with him, but you refused. How could you when the man who dropped everything for you needed you?

And now, the man was gone. You had never felt so alone before. Your friends were far and wide, but you had focused so much on Benny these three years you hadn’t really kept in touch with most of them. You had hoped that David would be here with you, at least, be your hand to hold, but that had been too much to ask, it seemed.

You bent down, kissed your dear uncle’s cold hands and cheek one last time, and told him you would speak to him every night, like you had always done since your first night here.

“I promise, Benny. I love you.”

---

The service was beautiful. Simple, dignified, just as he had wanted. When everything was cleared, you finally checked your phone, hoping to see a text, an explanation from David, but there was none.

When the two of you met, you two were fresh faced university students, instantly hitting it off. You had always been shy, never having a lot of friends, and even if you did, after graduating, everyone scattered all over. You had chosen to go back to LA, not wanting Benny to be alone. He came with you, chasing his dreams to be an actor.

David worked hard to pursue his acting career, going for audition after audition, getting small roles here and there, working as a waiter in between jobs. During that time, Benny and you had supported him, his own family being as unstable as they were. You ran lines with him for auditions, held his head when he cried from yet another rejection, paid his rent when he ran short. You were there for him.

That first year Benny got sick, he helped you take care of him, taking him to chemo when you were still working, caring for him at home, keeping him company. He held you at night when you came home tired, listened to your stories, laughed at your jokes, cried when you cried. He was there for you, as much as you were for him.

But then, one day, he auditioned for a pilot, which became an instant hit. In a flash, David Trafford became Dave Landon, TV heart throb who played Jerry, a superstar playboy turned clumsy, inexperienced dad who had a baby left on his doorstep. You quit your job to take care of Benny, David coming by when he was available to do so, the frequency lessening quickly as the show became more and more successful.

He had been very respectful of your request for privacy, not wanting your private life to be plastered all over the internet and tabloids. His agent was very happy about this, preferring that he be linked with famous actresses to promote his name. You didn’t mind, you knew the game, and he was very frank with you about it all. So, you managed to stay away from red carpets, limiting your relationship to the privacy of his house and Benny’s, and the odd outings. Taking care of Benny was a full-time job anyway, and he understood.

But as he got more and more famous, free time became less and less. His agent was taking advantage of his fame, booking him for anything and everything within every inch of his life. Still you understood, knowing this was his dream, and you were not going to stand in his way.

You had supported his dream, his career, his passion.

But when Benny died, when your world stopped, he didn’t show.

You were suddenly seething. You had never asked him for anything. And the one time you needed him, he was a no show.

You drove over and unlocked his front door. You turned the corner of his foyer, walking into the music filled kitchen.

Where Cleo, his costar from the show, whom he had always been gossiped with, was cooking.

Naked.

You stood there, not saying anything, until he himself came out of the pantry, also naked, holding a bottle of wine, and saw you.

“What are you doing here, Sweets? Why didn’t you call first?”

Cleo stood behind him, covering her body with his. You had no idea why, it’s not that you hadn’t seen it before. Her nudes, her sex videos were all over the internet.

You kept quiet. You didn’t say anything. You were wondering why you were not feeling anything but anger at the fact that he didn’t show for Benny’s funeral. He quickly put an apron on to cover himself, again, you didn’t know why, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before.

“I swear this is not what it looks like. We were just getting comfortable with each other, for the show. We have a sex scene coming up. That’s all.”

Cleo said nothing. Just stood behind him, eyeing you up and down.

Still you said nothing. He looked flustered now, knowing there was no way out of this, that you knew, the jig was up.

“Sweets, you know I love you; she means nothing to me. It’s just sex. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Cleo huffed and went off into his room angrily, slamming the door behind her.

Why didn’t you feel anything? You should be angry, right? This was your boyfriend. And you just caught him naked with his costar in his kitchen. A costar who, incidentally, seemed really angry at the fact that ‘she meant nothing’ to him.

He took a step closer to you, and that’s when you saw them. His eyes. He was high.

“You missed Benny’s funeral.”

You turned around to leave.

“Wait! Benny died?”

You stopped and turned, glaring at him. He suddenly looked annoyed, as if you were being unreasonable with him.

“How high are you? How long have you been high? I told you the day it happened. You told me you were coming to take me to the funeral. I waited for you all morning. I almost missed his funeral!”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Sweets. I don’t remember.”

You turned around, leaving for good. You didn’t have time for this bullshit. You didn’t sign up for this.

“Well what did you expect? You think I’m gonna wait around for you when you put another man and his needs before me? Fuck you, Amy! Fuck you! We’re over! You hear that? I’m breaking up with you! See who will have you now, you boring bitch!”

You slammed the door behind you, leaving this ranting man behind. A man you didn’t know at all, who was not the sweet, caring man you met and fell for years ago.

---

You gave Benny’s house one more look once the boxes had been picked up and the house cleaned. It looked a lot smaller when it’s empty. Funny how that worked. You remember being in complete awe of it all when you first came here. You went to the backyard one last time and laid in the hammock you and Benny had installed together when you first got there, remembering all the time the two of you had done so, talking to the stars. He had you convinced that your parents were among them, and that if you talked to them, tell them your problems, ask them questions, about anything at all, you could always, always hear their replies, and that you would never be alone.

You smiled thinking about the time when he tried to get off the hammock after you had fallen asleep in it during the early days and ended up tipping the hammock over, sending you crashing down to the concrete floor. You broke your arm that night, and Benny carried a sobbing you into the ER shoeless, wearing only his sweatpants screaming for help. He was devastated that he had injured his baby. It took a lot of convincing from you to have him join you in the hammock again, and so much practice getting out of it without tipping anyone over.

You remembered the last week before he passed, where he insisted on lying in the damn hammock with you still, and you helped him lift his frail body into it, just so the two of you could cuddle in it the way you always had. You remembered him falling asleep, his head on your shoulder, telling you he loved you and that being your uncle was his greatest achievement.

He never woke up again.

You caressed his side of the hammock one last time and looked at the stars.

“You’d better be in the stars above Wyoming too, Benny.”

---

You felt like you had been hit by a train. You fell asleep about two hours into the early morning flight and was shaken awake not 10 minutes later. The plane was landing in Jackson Hole shortly. Please put your seat into the upright position, miss, the pretty flight attendant had said to you.

After Benny passed, you were busy taking care of his considerable estate. He had left you everything. You had tried to stay, but you couldn’t help but see him everywhere. The school he used to drive you to, the restaurant he loved, the mural he had liked, the shops he frequented. And at home, you were haunted by his memory. His favourite chair. His slippers. His gown. The breakfast nook. His room. And of course, the hammock.

It also didn’t help that you couldn’t get a job in LA, not that you needed one, Benny’s considerable estate made sure of that. But you just couldn’t stand being idle. Your old workplace didn’t have any vacancies, but your old colleague told you about a year-long job that could be available. It’s a ranch. Their regular vet had to attend to some family matters, and they needed someone to take over for a year. But this ranch was not like the quaint English farm you grew up in or worked at during your Uni days she said, if she remembered correctly from pictures from your Insta. And you had spent almost twenty years in LA. The Tetons during winter was… not quite the English winter you were used to growing up. So, it might be a bit of a challenge, but nothing you couldn’t handle, she said.

You said yes so quickly she laughed and gave you the number to call. “Talk to Tess. She manages the ranch. Tell her I gave you the number.”

And so you called, and Tess was very excited about you coming to fill in, even if you were rusty, having not worked for three years, and had only worked a handful of years before that. Basically you would be taking care of the horses and cows on the ranch, and a few dogs and the likes. The neighbours might call you up for help with their animals too, and they pay you extra for that.

You were worried, you won’t lie. A ranch. But hey, it’s just a year. And you had never lived anywhere that would get proper snow. It didn’t snow much where you grew up, so maybe this would be fun. One year. Good experience. And after that, who knew? Maybe you’ll go back to England. Or move to Asia. Benny had always wanted to do that. Maybe you’ll make his dream come true.

You had sold or donated everything in LA, bringing exactly ten boxes with you to Jackson, mostly books, and four suitcases – Benny’s prized LV ones. He had bought them with his first commission from his first sale at the gallery. You didn’t plan on going back to live in LA, anyway, so might as well make it easy for yourself – easier to bring as little as you can too, considering you were planning on leaving the country after the year was up. The boxes had been sent ahead, and Tess said that someone would be there at the airport to pick you up. Dress warmly, she had warned. And bring plenty of winterwear.

So, you lugged your four suitcases onto a trolley, and pushed. You scanned the arrival hall for your name, but there were none. You pushed the trolley towards the entrance, and when the door opened, you froze.

Literally.

It was fucking freezing.

Shit.

You wrapped your scarf around your neck tighter and kept pushing. You looked around, standing at the area Tess had asked you to wait at, not seeing anyone or any truck that matched the description and photo that Tess had sent you. Just as you were about to call Tess, an old-looking, battered red truck parked right in front of you. The driver took out his phone, looked at something on it, and then you, and got out.

“You Amelia?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m Joel. Tess sent me.”

“Erm, she said someone called Tommy was picking me up. Not Joel.”

He looked annoyed. “Well, he can’t make it. Wife’s not feeling so good. I’m what you’ve got. Are you coming or not?”

You hesitated. This man looked grumpy. And you were not about to get into a truck with a grumpy stranger in a strange place where you knew exactly one person, and that was Tess, who was hundreds of miles away, apparently. You took your glove off your right hand, and dialled Tess’s number, holding a finger up to him. He threw his hands in the air before placing them on his hips, taking a deep, impatient breath, looking like he was about to implode.

You told Tess a Joel was here, claiming she sent him. She laughed and asked you to point the camera at him. Joel rolled his eyes at the camera. Tess told you yep, that’s the grumpy asshole who was going to pick you up. Tommy was supposed to, but his wife was not feeling too well. Sorry, she forgot to text you about it.

Joel started lugging your suitcases, tossing the first one into the back seat.

“Hey! Be careful! That’s my entire earthly possession right there!”

“Doubtful,” he said. “Ten boxes just arrived for you at the ranch. At least lie better.”

“Well, those suitcases mean a lot to me. Please be careful,” you begged. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘damn city girls’ under his breath, but he did at least place the rest carefully in the back seat. He closed the door and pushed the trolley towards the attendant.

You were feeling like a lost puppet. You didn’t know what to do. Stupid questions filled your brain. Do you get in the truck? Do you sit next to him? Do you take your very puffy jacket that wasn’t doing squat in fending off the cold off? Do you wait and shake his hand? What do you do? It was like your brain decided to stop working. You had just arrived, sleep deprived from the emotional night you had saying goodbye to your life in LA with Benny and how early you had to leave for the airport that morning, got ten minutes of sleep and was greeted by the North Pole and a very grumpy elf.

He came back to the truck and got in. You were still standing there. He opened the door back up and asked if he should open the fucking door for you, Princess? You were startled by his aggression. You went around and tried to open the door, but it was stuck. You pulled and pulled, and finally he gave it a push from the inside and the door flung open, pushing you onto your backside on the fucking freezing road, a passing car narrowly missing you by inches.

He just sat there, staring at you, his lips half curled with an amused smirk.

You got back up as quickly as you could, a bit disorientated from what just happened, and quickly tried to get in. But the truck was high, and you were used to small cars, and had so many layers on, and in your cotton-brained, ouchy-my-buttocks-hurt-like-a-mother state you had trouble climbing up, your petite frame not really helping. He scoffed a not so silent ‘Jesus, city girl’ before he offered his hand for you to take. You stared at him and hoisted yourself in, ignoring his hand.

You pulled the door shut, feeling dangerously close to tears, and avoided looking at him. He took his seatbelt off, scooted towards your side, reached across, opened the door back up and pulled it shut with a slam, the truck wobbling from the force. He buckled himself back up and sat there watching you trying to figure out the seatbelt, which was loose, and looked for the slot in the bench seat, the many layers you had on and the rustling of the puffy jacket getting in your way, your arms feeling stiff and the thick gloves making you less dexterous than you normally were. He impatiently took the seatbelt from you and locked it in, muttering under his breath as he did so before pulling out of the spot.

You glanced at your phone, it was 9 in the morning, you had been here not even an hour, and you were already on the verge of tears, feeling more unwelcomed than you ever did in your entire life. You took a deep breath, and tried again, asking him how long the drive to the ranch would be.

He turned the radio on and upped the volume in response.

You looked out the window, the heated interior of the truck feeling much colder than the cold city outside. You pulled the hoodie of your jacket on so he couldn’t see your face, and leaned on the window, tears silently trickling on your cheek.

What a first fifty minutes to the rest of your next year.

This was clearly a mistake.

---

Part 2

[heavyhitterheaux]

Issa Party

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Requested by: my boo @hoodharlow 💕

Liked by jackharlow, druski2funny, urbanwyatt, normani, saweetie, taylorrooks, claybornharlow, and 2,372,947 others

y/ninsta: hi :)

saweetie: long time, no see. where you been at bitch?! jessicakelce: I second that because your ass just disappeared off the face of the earth traviskelce: jess? you literally saw her less than twenty four hours ago jessicakelce: well it feels like longer! urbanwyatt: she got them apple bottom jeans! quiiso: boots with the fur! yungskylark: the whole club was looking at herrrrr! y/ninsta: I've been around lol normani: jackharlow didn't get you pregnant again yet? jackharlow: normani working on it y/ninsta: normani I think absolutely the fuck NOT blancahood: oohh yellow is your color mamas 😍 saweetie: snapback game goes CRAZY theestallion: triplets WHERE?! jackandy/naremyparents: the queen has graced us with her presence urbandjack25: I could just eat her UP jackharlow: urbandjack25 YOU GET ME y/ninsta: lmaooooo 😭

Liked by jackharlow, blancahood, brandisimmons, yungskylark, traviskelce, saweetie, and 3,180,771 others

y/ninsta: now I know yall have heard about magic city, but what about latto city?

jackharlow: sooo you giving out lap dances or nah? y/ninsta: jackharlow for you and only you. got something real special too 😜 dualipa: y/ninsta what about me? pretty please with a cherry on top? jackandy/nupdates: oh lord here we go jackharlow: dualipa you are literally the pest that doesn't go away and y/ninsta does it involve clothes?

y/ninsta: jackharlow of course it doesn't, don't ask silly questions!

saweetie: lemme get a couple of stacks to throw at you sza: me too, I support this vision druski2funny: latto city sound like you have a fish fry going on in the back for customers lilnasx: druski2funny your dusty ass would say something like that urbanwyatt: fry mine extra hard please! softtcurse: and don't forget the hot sauce! normani: but we know that's too spicy for jackharlow cozane: my man probably thinks ketchup is spicy jackharlow: now why the hell do yall always come for me on this damn app and I can literally never be at peace? dualipa: jackharlow you brought it on yourself y/ninsta: druski2funny I got fish plate dinners, chicken plate dinners, you name it and I probably got it blancahood: I always forget how good she can cook jaysontatum: imma have to slide down there so I can get a plate y/ninsta: jayson! I didn't forget what you did! jaysontatum: I thought all was forgiven?! I gave him back! jackharlow: not them fighting over me like I'm a piece of meat y/ninsta: jackharlow but you so cute bae, I can't help it 😍 claybornharlow: y/ninsta I mean he's okay...... jackharlow: claybornharlow don't you muthafuckin start claybornharlow: jackharlow 😉 jackharlow: y/ninsta I'll make sure to leave enough room for dessert y/ninsta: jackharlow I didn't make any? jackharlow: y/ninsta I know you didn't y/ninsta: jackharlow smush, I don't get it lilnasx: y/ninsta YOU ARE THE DESSERT MA'AM y/ninsta: lilnasx oh that makes sense lol

Liked by jackharlow, saweetie, brandisimmons, urbanwyatt, sza, quiiso, shloob_, and 1,273,997 others

y/ninsta: late night runs and spending time with my favorite person in the entire world is absolutely priceless 🥹💕

Likeeee this man is EVERYTHING to me

jackharlow: 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈 y/ninsta: jackharlow stop acting like I don't tell you this every day lmao jackharlow: y/ninsta but I never get tired of hearing it saweetie: here they mushy asses go blancahood: I love yall, but yall make me sick at the same time lmao jessicakelce: blancahood I see no lies lol urbanwyatt: I literally called it when we were younger that they would be married yungskylark: jackharlow would be lowkey drooling while staring at y/ninsta jackharlow: yungskylark I WOULD NOT! quiiso: and spoil the hell out of her and wonder why her ass acts the way she does now lol jackandy/naremyparents: these two make my heart flutter, true love really does exist y/ninsta: jackandy/naremyparents ehhh I tolerate him jackharlow: y/ninsta oh? so you were just tolerating me earlier as I rearranged your guts and had you damn near ready to scream the safe word? do I have that correct? saweetie: OH druski2funny: what's the safe word?!?! theestallion: yall some nasty ass muthafuckas sza: theestallion??? please shut the hell up because I KNOW your ass isn't talking about someone being nasty lmao lilnasx: hold on, where are yall kids?!?! jackharlow: lilnasx they're around here somewhere lmao y/ninsta: jackharlow lmaooo they gave you a run for your money today jackharlow: y/ninsta nah I only got 2 now, autumn belongs to you and only you y/ninsta: she wasn't even that bad! jackharlow: y/ninsta speak for yourself. I don't even drink anymore, but that child had me wanting to take all the shots in the world y/ninsta: 😭😭😭😭

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, dualipa, brandisimmons, generationnow, jackandy/naremyparents, theshaderoom, and 4,183,949 others

y/ninsta: I told Saweetie, "get the balloons, we gone throw her a surprise" 😜

jackharlow: imma need you to bring your ass here NEOW druski2funny: aye! run me my wing stop discount! urbanwyatt: druski2funny bruh... the latto meal is only 20 something dollars lilnasx: druski2funny if you broke just say that smh y/ninsta: druski2funny not you asking me for another discount over top of the one I just gave you and jackharlow BEHAVE jackharlow: y/ninsta how can I behave when my wife looks like this? EXPLAIN y/ninsta: jackharlow lmaoooo you are a hot ass mess claybornharlow: produced by little baby 🥰 y/ninsta: claybornharlow nothing but magic happens when those Harlow's hit the studio jackharlow: y/ninsta I'm just tryna hit your guts, but I get it y/ninsta: JACKMAN, PLEASE quiiso: I swear you cannot take his ass anywhere when it comes to her jackharlow: y/ninsta what? what I say? blancahood: jackharlow and this is why you have three children jackharlow: blancahood I dropped them off at my parent's house so they're their problem maggieharlow: jackharlow and I will make you come and get them normani: oh lord smh jackharlow: maggieharlow next week? lilnasx: lmaoooo not him saying next week y/ninsta: jackharlow what am I going to do with you?! jackharlow: y/ninsta nothing because you're stuck with me 🥰

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, taylorrooks, generationnow, hollywoodunlocked, saweetie, and 2,382,941 others

y/ninsta: the face your husband makes when he had asked you if you wanted Starbucks and you said no, but now twenty minutes later you want some and are trying to steal his lmao he is so sick of me 😭😭

blancahood: he had better given you some of his too otherwise I'm sending panchito jackharlow: blancahood why the fuck are you so got damn violent? of course I shared it with her because SHE GAVE ME NO CHOICE. she was literally perched in my lap until I gave her some. traviskelce: jackharlow happy wife, happy life. just smile and nod and swipe your credit card jessicakelce: traviskelce ooh I taught you well, babe! blancahood: jackharlow me and panchito stay ready for when you step a toe outta line urbanwyatt: lmaoooo and y/ninsta kept eyeing jackharlow's drink until finally she was like 'babe, can I have some?' and jack of course was like 'now didn't I just ask your spoiled ass if you wanted one?' 😭😭 saweetie: urbanwyatt lmaoooo sounds just like them jackharlow: AND SHE DRANK 75% OF IT AND IS GOING TO LOOK AT ME LIKE I'M CRAZY TALKING ABOUT BABY WHY DID YOU DRINK IT ALL FROM ME? sza: and at that point, jackharlow chose violence lmaoooo y/ninsta: jackharlow I love you smushhhhhh jackharlow: y/ninsta you about to buy me another one when we land y/ninsta: jackharlow or you can face fuck me, your choice yungskylark: every day we stray further and further away from our savior smh jackharlow: y/ninsta OH, well don't mind if I do 😏😏😏😏 jessicakelce: just nasty as all hell smh urbanwyatt: pregnancy announcement in 3...2....1.... y/ninsta: URBAN HENRY DON'T YOU DARE WISH THAT UPON ME urbanwyatt: y/ninsta it is literally only a matter of time lmao druski2funny: I give her 24 hours y/ninsta: druski2funny and that's why your ass can't even afford my meal at wing stop smh druski2funny: y/ninsta I got your baby daddy to pay for it 🥰 y/ninsta: druski2funny 🙄🙄🙄

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@fantasywritersstuff

[kaepop-trash]

would u indulge us with a lil teaser from an update ur working on? 👀🤲

So I wasn't sure if I should post this because idk if I'll finish it, it's mostly just a worldbuilding experiment. I was writing this to work on this world so it's just a bunch of scenes with no continuity. That being said, this is the thing I have written the most in the past few months so this will have to do.

_

Summary: "This better be good." (Y/N) sighed into her coffee cup, less from sleep and more because of how awful the station's coffee machine was. "You've called me in exactly 8 hours into the one day I took off in two months."

"Two officers on night duty picked up a suspect near the meatpacking factory. I thought you would like to interview the potential suspect. Since this is your case." Kun shrugged, his holster rattling at the movement.

Warnings: Excessive exposition, no payoff

Word Count: 1666

_

When her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, there was a small shake in them. Her knuckles tightened in an effort to hide it, flexing just to be sure.

She spoke the moment the interrogation room door pushed open, “Your lawyer wanted me to ask you if you still don’t want him in here.” Talking to the floor, she turned to shut the thing behind her. A good enough start, she told herself.

“I apologise for his persistence. I asked him to leave but he is wary of his job.”

“It would be unfortunate to lose a client like you, I assume.” Kun spoke with his signature interrogation voice, impassive but with an edge of sympathy. The man laughed as she turned to face the room. Despite preparing herself this entire detour to meet his gaze head on, she lost her nerve and looked to Kun for some reassurance. He caught on, turning and giving her a pursed smile.

“Mr. Suh was just telling me about why he was in the area this late in the night.” Kun pointed at his pad, letting her know that he’d been taking his statement.

“I am looking to buy two of the five abandoned factories in the district. I was just scouting the area to assess my options.” He spoke slowly, his gaze dragging away from Kun in a leisurely stride before landing on her.

“At two in the morning?” She asked, the solid question giving her the confidence to finally meet his gaze.

“I’m a busy man.” He answered with laidback ease. Like he was having a dinner table conversation instead of being suspected for murder.

“And what do busy men like you do that require you loitering on private property at questionable hours?” She asked the question in her mind.

In response, his lips lifted in an amused smirk.

“She’s new here.” Kun spoke with an awkward weight on his tongue. The man seemed amused by the information, giving her a questioning look as Kun turned, “Johnny Suh is the sole owner of the Miti Conglomerates, the largest transportation service this far out on the edge of the known universe.”

“Well, on Xohorat I am mostly the owner of the only hotel on the planet. I am sure you had to stay there since you are new here.” He asked her, visible humour illuminating his eyes.

She did have to stay in that hotel, almost a year ago— when she was actually new to the planet. The most luxurious stay at the end of the universe. That is what the fliers over town and her transfer officer had informed her. In reality the room she could afford was the equivalent of an airport hotel way out on the opposite side of the universe. Her home. Not bad but more practical than luxury. It also hosted an interesting bar. All of this, of course, Johnny Suh already knew.

"Where were you on the twenty-fifth evening?" She asked him, fixing a discerning eye squarely on him.

"In my office. Working. I can provide the surveillance footage by tomorrow if that will help your investigation."

Overeager. She deduced, still keeping her eyes on his every movement. Despite the words, his body language was completely disarmed. There was no nervous shifting, no restless tapping, not even a frown.

"Did you ever have an association with a Mr. Pilem?" She pretended to look for the name in the file.

"I've never heard that name in my life." He answered after a pause to consider it. Perfectly orchestrated or the truth, she deduced. Those were the only two options she had.

"He was fairly well off. I'm sure on a planet as small as Xohorat, your circles might have overlapped?"

"Your partner told me he is a legislative clown,” He dragged his gaze from him to her, fixing her in place, “I don't mix with reformists."

"We are all reformists in this universe, Mr Suh." Kun chimed in, sounding rather serious.

"So you're a factionist?" She moved on, "Any animosity towards the government? Is that why you live this far out?"

"You live here too. What are your allegiances?" He pointed a finger at her. Despite the jest in his tone, he seemed to want an answer, "I am a man of business. Xohorat is a cheap hub for storing ships. The people of this colony are born engineers. My ships are the best in the galaxy at the fraction of the cost of the ones stored on moons closer to the reformer capital.” He sat back.

"The centre of the universe." Kun corrected him. That is what the capital was, after all. (Y/N) really had to curb the urge to tell Kun to drop it.

The words made the man look at Kun, his scoff that of pity, "The universe is the largest thing to exist. It's ceaseless pride that makes us think that we've discovered the centre of it."

Kun, she noted, looked momentarily taken aback. In his entire life, no one had said those words out loud to him. So obvious when spoken but never questioned. The outer planets were quite religious, she'd been surprised to learn. This far away from the influence of the capital, the laws were bleak. Her being here alone was a laughable matter, as she had learned pretty early into the job. Cops here only patrolled in cars and caught petty thieves. Detectives were simply government sanctioned employees chosen by the federal state. It was an illusion of order to keep up the illusion of empire this far.

Yet the reformist religion was stronger here than it was amongst the capital elite. Growing up, it had looked to her like people merely followed the tenets of the religion as a social obligation. For reformers, Wednesday evenings were for breaking fast with the community, a religious practice that made the community come together in the middle of the week to remember the gift of prophecy. The one that led the first explorers to the very centre of the universe. In the capital, the centre of the prophecies, Wednesday was a weekly dinner party to negotiate the happenings of government.

But here in the fringes of the capital's grasp, the religion was followed in the strictest ways. Here they still worshipped the original sun. The source of all energy that allowed the universe to be what it is today— inhabited by human beings. It was as if the world here had not moved past the exploration age, stuck in the beliefs that stopped the space farers from going insane on their long, tireless journeys to reach here.

If Kun had anything to say, he must have swallowed it. Instead, getting out of his chair.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Suh?" He asked him, getting a nod in response. When Kun looked at her, she shook her head.

"Some water." She told him.

She followed Kun's retreating frame, so aware of the other pair of eyes on her that, for a moment, she felt like the one under scrutiny. The halogen bulb above them buzzed obnoxiously, filling the room with a sound that resembled the one in her head.

"An odd place for a factionist." She said out loud, aware by now that Kun had taken his place behind the glass in the small room right down this one. Watching as she did her thing.

"Where are you from, Detective (Y/L/N)?" He questioned, splaying his hand across the table and landing close to hers.

"Way out in the western reaches." She thought of the place she was born, balmy all year round.

The man, Johnny Suh, hummed, "Nice place?" He inquired.

"It can be. Why are you trying to buy abandoned factories on the bad side of town?"

"It is no more a bad side than this is the good. These are just some people looking for jobs."

She stared at the man, perhaps trying to reconstruct him from memory.

"And what about this murder that took place in the area?" She asked point blank.

"It didn't happen on any of my properties. Present or future. I simply assume it comes with the territory. It can be rough to live in that much poverty."

All his answers were deliberately diverted. Her brain itched in unreachable corners. Everything seemed okay but something seemed not. Something did not feel right.

"These murders were all people who did not belong to that side of town. People who would not usually be there." She explained.

"Rich people?" He sounded amused.

"Reformists. The important kind." She frowned, "In the past few months, enough have turned out dead in those parts that it would be concerning to anybody. Even those with a knack for philanthropy."

Johnny's lips twitched, and she had to sit up straight. Despite having seen the man naked, she remembered with a current of warmth sliding down her spine, she only now realised that she'd never seen him smile.

"I'm afraid I was just minding my own business. You can send someone to take a look at the tapes, I can't hand them to you as it's against company policy. Beyond that I can let you know if I hear something. I hope that's all?"

She stared at him, the strings at the back of her mind tugging but being unable to find any visible suspicion to act on.

"It must feel nice, though." She caved and asked the question raking her mind, "As a factionist, watching them all found dead. The chief planet advisor, the official notary's son, the Sol Pastor. All essential members of reformist society. All important contributors to the southern edge system."

"My condolences to them and their family." He didn't sound apologetic, “But I am not a facionist, merely someone who thinks.” She wanted to scoff at the jab, knowing Kun heard him loud and clear. Out of everything he said today though, this one she was sure was a lie.

[shirohige-pirates]

Hey Doll

CisFem Reader x Thatch

CW: toxic parents, manipulation, The Plan™, smut, mdni, I'll add as we go I'm kind of fly by the seat of my pants on this one.

tag list: @mfreedomstuff @harahettania @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 6: The Tea

“They had to have abused her, Pops!” Thatch is struggling to keep his voice down. There’s pain in his face and his words, and Edward can’t argue the truth of his assumptions. “The way she acts compared ta’ them, and the two times she’s all but broken down around us.”

Once it had been decided that you would be escorted to your parents’ home to retrieve your things, Edward had asked you to go back downstairs. He wanted to talk to his son in private, and work out a few details regarding how things would go.

“Two times?”

Thatch steps back from the desk and sighs. “When we were alone yesterday. I said I’d try an’ push back the deadline if she wanted. I didn’t want her to feel forced into anything.” He rolls his eyes, knowing his dad’s glare is directed at him for promising something that was exceptionally difficult to do. Not impossible for the old man, but still.

“But, the way she reacted to it. She got so focused on the word forced, and got super defensive, sayin’ she’s never felt forced, but it was like she wasn’t talking about the program at all.”

Newgate’s quiet for a moment. “Even if that’s the case, unless she’s willing to talk about it, there’s not much we can do. Do you think she’d be able to speak out against her parents?”

Newgate could see his son deflate in real time, and grunted in response. “Me either, and you’re not going to undo what’s probably twenty years of abuse in a couple days, Thatch. I can’t press charges against her parents for choosing her things, or stopping her from drinking caffeine.”

“No, I know.” Thatch grumbles, sitting down in a nearby chair. “I don’t know if I can be in the same space as those two. The more she talks about them, the more it pisses me off.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. I need everyone there, the faster we get her things gathered and removed, the better.” Edward’s tone isn’t leaving any room for Thatch to argue. “I’ll stay with your fiance and deal with her parents. Your job might be to impart just how foolish they’d be to try anything in the future.”

“How-.” Thatch stops. “Oh. I mean, yeah. With how she’s talkin’, I probably could.”

Edward nods. “Let Marco and Izou load you up, carry the whole room out in one go. Be intimidating for once in your life, Thatchy-boy.”

Thatch almost snorts. “If I get the point across, you gotta stop calling me that.”

His father laughs, that deep bass laugh that almost makes Thatch’s ribcage rattle. “You’re going to have to bare your teeth more often than that, boy.”

Thatch sighs exasperatedly, rolling his eyes before he pulls himself up and out of the chair he’d started to sink into. “Who’s going to call them then?”

“I’ll have Haruta do it. He’s removed from what happened, and he’ll stick by the instructions I give him without letting anything deter him.” He says, waving Thatch away. “Get. Go downstairs and make sure Izou hasn’t pulled out the family photo albums.” Thatch is already on his feet and out the door at the idea.

Having left you at the mercy of his brothers wasn’t a concern so much as how little mercy his brothers would show him. With everything else that had gone on, he wouldn’t put it past them to use something like baby pictures to “help” distract you from the last 24 hours. Taking steps almost three at a time, he hops the banister to shorten the distance a little and finds all of you in the dining room, just off the kitchen.

Izou looks over first, giving him a catty smile. “Worried, brother?”

Thatch grimaces. “With you lot, yeah.” He grunts.

You look up as Thatch gets closer and give him a soft smile. There’s a schematic of the manor rolled out on the table, and Izou and Marco had been walking you through it. There’s a look of relief and confusion on Thatch’s face.

“I wanted to see the house, but I didn’t want us to all be gone when you came down.” You explain. “Marco suggested this.”

“Not… pictures?” Thatch tilts his head and Marco laughs.

“You really wanted me to risk the kid pictures that would’ve been mixed in?” He asks and Thatch shakes his head. “Izou would’ve hunted down every embarrassing photo of the both of us.”

“Only because you weren’t going to back me up.” Izou clarifies with a grin. Elbow on the table, chin resting in his hand, he leans toward you a little, deviousness leaking from his every action. “I’m sure if you ask, however, Miss Kakusho, not even Thatch would say no.”

You can see Thatch flinch and when you look up he looks away, the ear you can see already turning red. You look back over to Izou’s whose grin has somehow gotten even more mischievous than it already was. He looks away from Thatch and looks back to you, raising his brow questioningly.

“Oh I… I wouldn’t want to impose. I haven’t, um, even read the Match Book yet.” You say, hoping it’s enough.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wait, seriously, yoi?” Marco asks, looking from you to Thatch. “She doesn’t know anything?”

“We talked for almost two hours last night.” Thatch replies. “She knows some stuff.”

“She know how you got that scar?” Marco prompts, and Thatch’s face flushes. “No, eh?”

“I - I don’t need to know.” You insist, a little hastily. You can feel the heat rising in your face, but you try to maintain your calm. “I mean.” You clear your throat, composing yourself. “Thatch has been very kind and considerate, and I don’t want him to feel obligated.”

There’s a silence between all three, and your gaze falls down into your lap - you don’t trust yourself to look up at Thatch right now. “You’ve all been very kind, considering how rudely my parents acted.”

“Of course he’s been kind,” Izou says, breaking the tension in the air with a dismissive tone. “What kind of ass would treat someone different just because their parents are rude? And Thatch is such a sap anyway.”

“Oi, you didn’t need to add that last part.” Thatch retorts, trying not to raise his voice.

“I wouldn’t dare to lie to your sweet fiance, Thatchy-boy.” Izou says teasingly. Thatch starts to reach for him, but Izou doesn’t seem bothered and Marco’s just laughing.

You’d never really experienced sibling dynamics before, but you were adjusting to these three fairly quickly. It wasn’t that the emotions themselves weren’t genuine, it was that there was something present along with them. A kind of trust that Izou wasn’t really angering Thatch, and Thatch could stop him if he wanted, but that the squabble had more in it than just what was at the surface.

“Bah,” Thatch growls. “I’m going to grab a shower and a change of clothes. Don’t let these two clowns give you a hard time.” He says, looking down at you with a smile. “I won’t be long. Ah, oh -.” He looks back to Marco and Izou. “Pops is havin’ Haruta arrange a time, and we’re going to go and get her stuff.”

“Ah, I’ll leave you with her then, Izou.” Marco says. “I’m going to get some sleep if that’s the plan.”

“Sure, sure.” Izou says, and Thatch crosses his arms, glaring down at the long-haired brother. Izou tries to ignore him, but you can see his face twitch in irritation after a moment. “Fine, fine - I promise I won’t open any family albums or embellish any stories while you’re gone.”

Thatch relaxes and looks at you. “If you tell him no, he’ll listen, despite how he looks.” He assures you, before dodging a swat from Izou.

“You wretch, how I look, come back here, I’m going to snatch that pompadour off your head.” Izou threatens, and starts after Thatch whose already moving away.

“Don’t leave my fiance alone, it’d be rude!” Thatch says, a song in his voice that makes Izou practically growl before he sits back down.

He grumbles something under his breath and all you can really make out are some untoward words about the rules and where Thatch could shove them. You smile, despite the irritation on his face, you can see the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and the light in his eyes. He’s not truly upset. He takes a moment, putting an errant strand of hair back in place gracefully before regarding you.

“No pictures, no exaggerated tales of daring and adventure, and if we go on a walk in the garden Thatch might pout for real.” He smiles, seemingly interested in the idea for a moment. “That doesn’t leave many options.”

“Tell me about yourself.” You prompt and you see his brows raise a little. “We’ll be family soon, right? Would you rather tell me about yourself, or leave it up to someone else?”

Izou’s smile breaks into a laugh and he leans his chin on the back of his hands, folded in front of him as he gives you a rare grin. “You’re a quick learner. Alright, I’ll tell you about myself, if for no other reason that to head off my dear brothers from trying to paint a different picture.

“Like Marco and Thatch, I own my own company. I’m a little more hands off than they are, but I’m no less dedicated. I’ve just delegated a lot of work to people more capable than I am.” He explains, an amused expression crossing his face. “What I know well is tea, the beverage and the social kind,” he clarifies. “I handle the social aspects of the business more than anything else, but I trust the people I have in charge of the more logistical aspects.”

“So you… trade tea?” You question evenly. “In what ways? Is it a local operation?”

Izou nods slightly, never really lifting his head off his hands. “Import and export. We’ve also set standards for tea as well, bringing up the overall quality in the market and limiting problems with counterfeiting and other shady practices.”

“Counterfeit tea? How’s that work?”

“Most of the time it’s just a matter of labeling it incorrectly. The idea is that your consumers won’t know the difference between one quality and another. So you could sell blended tea as a pure tea, and if you’re trying to pull one over on people with more expensive varieties, you can really walk away with quite the ill-gotten profit.” He explains. “But we include pop cards with visuals so people can see the differences. Not only does it prove the quality and integrity of our brand, but it also educates our clients against people who would try to cheat them.”

“Interesting.” You respond. If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to people about their business, or their interests. It was so much easier to listen to someone and prompt them to tell you more, than it was to try and build up any real emotion for your own curated interests.

“I imagine it’s harder to spot when you’re dealing with bagged tea instead of loose leaves, or is that not the case?”

“Only a little. There’s some things you can still look out for, like an excess of dust, or there’s different grades of fannings and broken leaf that can effect quality. It won’t necessarily be bad tea, if you know how to deal with it, but if someone’s trying to sell it as something different, it’s easy enough to spot.” He gives you an amused look. “Everything’s easier to do once you learn how to do it, and that’s why we try to educate our clients.”

Izou continued to talk to you about tea, speaking on the different varieties and grades. He was so knowledgeable about leaves and seasons and ways of measuring quality, that you wondered why he even needed to delegate, and he laughed. Not at you, but just laughing a little in amusement before leaning back in his chair.

“Tea I know, but I’m not an accountant, and I’m not good at tracking inventory. There’s an entire team of people who compile and crunch data to try and find better ways to move inventory faster so that we can do everything efficiently. Even if I was skilled at that sort of thing, I’m just one person.” He smiles, waving one hand idly in the direction Marco had gone.

“Marco doesn’t even work directly with the people in his company. He goes in after hours and does the quality work. It’s what he’s good at, and if he does it at night he’s not getting in anyone else’s way, and no one else is bothering him. He can focus on what he wants to focus on, and get things done faster.” Izou starts to speak and stops, smirking a little before catching your gaze.

“If I can speak briefly about Thatch?”

“Certainly.”

“Thatch runs the pastry shop almost the same way I run my business. His focus is almost entirely on overseeing things. He does plenty of hands on stuff as well, but there’s no way he could physically fill all the orders he gets. Instead he tests, refines, and teaches his staff recipes, and then oversees quality, steps in to help when it’s needed, and delegates other aspects of the shop to other employees.” He explains. “The point isn’t just to do what you can, it’s to know what you can’t do. Those are the things Pops wanted us to learn, and that’s why none of us work for Whitebeard Shipping and Trade.”

“I didn’t -.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” Izou interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t be concerned, but you are aware of that much aren’t you?”

You nod. “I didn’t read the book, but my parents did talk about it while they read it.” You admit. “One of you is going to take over the family business, or at least that’s the assumption.”

“Thatch’s heart isn’t really in it.” Izou says plainly, and you can’t help the relief that comes over you. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s an easy silence between you until Thatch comes back from his shower.

His hair isn’t up in the pompadour yet, and the long locks are framing his face, still a little heavy with dampness. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and a longer sleeved button up that’s not yet buttoned up over it. He looks a little flushed, like he’d rushed his usual process and Izou gives him a sour look.

“You didn’t trust me!” He accuses and Thatch flusters, putting his hands up.

“I did, I did!” Thatch asserts. “I just… didn’t want to take too long, is all.” He looks over at you and you look away before you can stop yourself. “Eh?”

Izou grins. “Ah.”

“What?” Thatch asks, and Izou just shakes his head, getting up from the table and stepping away.

“It’s my turn to get ready for this evening’s festivities. You can stay here and keep your fiance company.” He says, patting the table as he leaves. “We should let Marco sleep as long as we can, so maybe you could take her for a walk in the garden while your hair dries?”

“I…” Thatch starts, having already started to seat himself in the chair Izou had vacated. “Yeah, we can do that, if you’d like?” He asks you. You still can’t look at him, but you nod.

“That sounds nice.” You agree, looking up before looking away again. He looked very different with his hair down like that. The pompadour suited him, even if it did take some getting used to, but seeing his hair down was bad for your heart. With the scar around his eye he almost looked like he would be in a mafia or some kind of gang, and not someone who owns and operates a bakery.

You just aren’t sure how to say any of that, or if you even should. The difference was just jarring enough that you needed a moment more to get yourself in order before you’re finally able to look up at him.

“You can sit for a moment, if you want to.” You add, smiling. “Or, um, if you wanted to finish getting ready I can wait for a few moments by myself, it’s okay.” You motion around your own head, pantomiming the pompadour style.

“Ah, no, I’m going to leave it down for today.” He admits scratching idly at the side of his face. “Pops says I look more intimidating with it down.”

Intimidating isn’t the word you would use.

[happyk44]

Jasico prompt for @butt-puncher based off this tweet

---

Leo peered over Jason's head. "Who's XghostkingX?" His chin came to rest on Jason's shoulder. "Sounds likely a freaky dude."

Jason swiped away the notification and kept watching the dog training video Piper sent with the caption "You" and a pink heart emoji. "Just this guy who sends me recipes." Jason frowned as the video ended and typed a quick rebuttal back at Piper that just because the dog was a golden retriever did not mean it was him. "I don't know him."

Leo's breath went hot against his cheek. "Then why," Leo said, drawing out the "I" sound for as long as his breath lasted. He rolled over, locking his head backwards over Jason's shoulder, face to the curling and finally inhaled. Coughing briefly, he continued, "is he DMing you?" Leo flicked his cheek. "What, he is a potential booty call?"

Jason scowled. "I don't do that, Leo."

"You should," Leo huffed. "I got pegged on Tuesday by a hottie boom-booty and her boyfriend. All with the sweet send of a "You down to clown?" meme."

Rolling his eyes, Jason shifted ever so slightly and grinned when Leo slid off his shoulder and crashed to the ground. "You give all aroace people a bad name."

From the ground, Leo swatted at Jason's ankles. "Just because I don't get the attraction part doesn't mean I don't know what good feels like. And there are some angles only the thick fingers of a college football player can hit, alright?'"

Jason snorted and opened up Instagram. He switched to the messages section and clicked the top one. A link to a recipe popped up. Above it were a thousand other recipe links. No messages, no words, no comments.

Just other people's posts.

Jason didn't know who this Nico guy was. It was spring break in his sophomore year of high school. His step-mom dragged them all out to some meditative retreat that banned all use of electronics. It was supposed to be some kind of spiritual cleanse. All Jason remembered was doing yoga, eating really bland meals, and Thalia sneaking out of their room through the window in the middle of the night and coming back six hours later smelling like weed and wearing someone else's bra.

She had a lot more fun than he did.

But when he finally got his phone back, he had twenty-three messages from XghostkingX, all recipe posts from different accounts. He checked out the account, trying to figure out who "Nico" was. But the account was private. He checked out the recipes too. They weren't weird. Seemed like completely normal recipes. Bread, pasta, Mexican dishes, Indian dishes, pastries, keto, high protein, vegeterian. Pretty much everything except Italian.

Which Jason found interesting. He wanted to ask about it but...

He turned and flashed a sprawled out Leo the messages. "They're just recipes. He started sending them to me when I was on that no-phones thing with my family."

Leo snatched the phone from him and begin scrolling at top speed. "Wasn't that, like, five years ago?" Jason shrugged. Leo stared at him unamused. "Seriously, man? And you haven't said anything?" He shook the phone. "You don't even know this guy!"

Jason reached for his phone but Leo rolled away, spring up to his feet. "Leo, give me my phone."

"Just one second," Leo said, very clearly typing something.

"Do not talk to him, Leo!" Jason shouted, shooting out of his chair and towards his best friend.

"I'm just gonna hit him up!" Leo yelled as he scrambled away on his gangly twig legs. "See what's up!"

Jason grabbed a pillow off his bed and hurled it at Leo through the doorway. Leo squawked loud, without dignity, as it beamed him in the back of the head and knocked him down. Darting through the doorway, Jason threw himself over Leo. All the air fwooshed out of his lungs.

Grunts and grounds filled the air as they wrestled for the phone. Leo curled inwards of himself. Jason rolled him over onto his back. Leo kicked at him. Grabbing at his legs, Jason pinned him down and started tugging at his arms. He ripped the phone of Leo's hands and sat on his chest in retaliation.

Leo spread his hands behind his head and fluttered his eyelashes, before wheezing, "Why, why Mr. Grace, you're so forward."

Jason shoved his foot in Leo's face. Leo shouted and slapped it away with spluttering indignation. "Fuck off and suffocate, Valdez." He turned to his phone. His heart exploded in his chest. Panic induced upwards his throat. "Oh my fucking gods, Leo." He shoved both his feet into Leo's face again, kicking at his jaw.

Ignoring Leo's protesting yells, Jason scanned the string of messages in the chat. The first one started off okay. Yo, who is this? Then they slowly began to deteriorate into complete nonsense. Probably as Jason and Leo were fighting over the phone.

Crap, crap, crap, he thought, as he began typing out apologies.

Sorry for that, it was my friend, he was wondering why you keep DMing me even though we don't know each other. He sent the text and closed out of the app before planting both feet beside Leos face and flaring down at him.

Jason bonked him again then twitched as his phone buzzed. The notification read XghostkingX sent you a message. Leo squirmed under Jason's weight. "Did he respond? Is he telling you why he keeps sending you messages? Is he hot?"

Leo batted his eyelashes Sweetly. Jason bonked him on the head with his phone. "I am going to eat you one day, Leo."

"I don't care what you do to me, so long as I get to come first," Leo said.

Jason swatted at him as he opened up the text.

Haha, no problem. I was wondering when you were going to say something. I'm Nico. Sorry for all the recipes. I was sick with the flu and couldn't remember how to save them to my notes app. I meant to send them to my sister, but I messed up on her username. I'm dyslexic. Powered through it but it does get worse when I can't think straight. Actually using speech to text right now. Filling in the punctuations after the fact. Anyway, you never said anything so I just kept saving there here to refer back to. Kind of easier than opening my notes app all the time to be honest.

Another text popped up. A picture this time. Followed by a series of more pictures. All of food. Jason recognized some of them from the recipes he'd clicked through out of curiosity. The plating was different. A little less professional, but they looked just as good as they had in the videos.

Some of the photos had a cute boy in the background. He presented the plates with a shy look on his face. His dark shaggy hair was pulled back in a few photos.

Some of my successes, the next message read.

Quickly Jason texted back, Is that you?

Yeah, Nico's reply read. My sister took them to send to my grandma in Venice. I usually just photograph the food. I have other pictures on my page. You can follow if you want.

Jason didn't hesitate before replying, Okay.

He clicked Nico's username and hit the follow button before waiting patiently. A second later the page opened up for him. Nico had a lot of pictures of food, dogs, paintings. There were few pictures of him as Jason scrolled mindlessly through his accounts. The ones that did feature him were always flocked by two other girls - one white and tall, with a braid tucked over her shoulder and fierce eyes, the other short and black with a wide smile, typically tucked under one of their arms.

Jason clicked on a picture of what looked to lasagna roll-up but much fancier and sent it to the chat. That looks good. I don't remember seeing a post for it.

That's my grandma's recipe, Nico typed back. It's a chicken cannelloni. Trade secret though. Can't give it to you. There was a brief lull before another message popped up. But I could make it for you, if you're interested. Make up for spamming you these last five years. Laughing face emoji.

Jason paused. Then, Does it travel well? Who knows if the USPS will keep it fresh.

My dad lives in the Bay Area, Nico replied with a laughing face emoji. And I'm here for the next couple months. Another brief pause while Jason's mind caught up with the air in his lungs. If you didn't want people to know where you lived, you shouldn't post pictures of yourself at university. Congrats on your win by the way.

A deep heat crossed Jason's face. So Nico had checked out his page? What did he think of the personality Jason exhibited through carefully selected photographs and captions? Did he think he was cool?

Beneath him Leo was still struggling and wheezing. Jason ignored him as he typed. I'd be creeped out, but that cannoli thing looks too good, so yeah, why not?

Nico's reply was a cute smiley emoji. Here's my number, he wrote. Call me when you wanna come over. Takes a while to make the pasta from scratch but I'm sure I can keep you entertained. Another smiling emoji.

Jason swallowed around his rising emotions. Sounds good. I'll let you know when I'm free.

A thumbs up and another smiley face.

Finally, he slid off of Leo's chest and landed on the hardwood floors. Leo inhaled dramatically then coughed rapidly before flipping over to his stomach. He groaned as he pushed himself up to his knees. Jason exited the chat.

"So, you getting that dick or what?" Leo drawled. Jason shoved him back as he laughed deliriously.

"Shut up." He pushed up to a stand and dragged Leo off the floor. "He's gonna make me one of his recipes."

"Ahh, dinner date."

Jason cuffed Leo's shoulder before wrapping him in a headlock. Leo laughed boisterously and didn't fight back. Instead he licked a long line down Jason's arm. Jason rolled his eyes and pinched his ear before letting him go.

"It's not a date." He smoothed down his shirt and began looking through his calendar. "He's just trying to make up for spamming me these last five years."

"Uh huh," Leo said, with a twinkle in his eyes that Jason sometimes loved and sometimes hated.

"Yeah, uh huh," Jason muttered back.

Another notification popped up. Without a second thought, Jason clicked it. A picture of a small cake with elaborate icing work and chocolate drips. Nico was in the background, crouched low so all you could see was his face, flour in his hair, a little bit of icing smeared on his cheek. He was smiling wide, eyes glancing up at the person taking the picture. Underneath the photo were the words, For dessert?

Jason hearted the photo immediately and wrote, Sounds good. It looks delicious.

Leo leaned over his shoulder. "He does look pretty delicious."

Jason swatted him away, cheeks burning. "Fuck off, Valdez." Leo cackled behind him before jogging back into Jason's bedroom. Jason turned back to the photo. Nico did look really nice. Messy in a cute way.

Maybe if Jason played his cards right, he could score more than a free dinner and a cute dessert.

[bitchysoulwasteland]

Aurora

Part One

Bucky Barnes X Rockstar!reader

Short summary: the avengers meet your band when Stark records signs you all before the album release of Aurora.

Long Summary: Bucky was a very private person, so much so that no one knew where he went once he left the tower every night. On the other hand, the world saw you as a very open person, but you were both people with a secret.

(A/n: Kinda a Daisy Jones And The Six crossover but y/n is Daisy Jones onstage and Daisy’s backstory does apply but she’s not in love with Billy and it’s present day. Do not copy my work, happy reading. Enjoy)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, mentions of rehab, Billy Dune being a bit of a dick along with Sam joining in.

Being a rockstar wasn’t easy at all.

You had been a drug addict since you were fifteen. Your parents, an English painter father and a French model mother didn’t give a damn about your existence. So, you started making a name for yourself on The Strip in LA. You stood out due to your accent anyway, so it was easy to be noticed.

At the age of twenty you joined a band called ‘The Six’ and changed your name to ‘Daisy Jones’. You didn’t want any connection to your parents at all.

By twenty one the band reached stardom. But, your drug problem grew. You were taking so many that you lost track and there was so much alcohol in your system at all times that you were sure you hadn’t been sober in years.

In fact, that was true.

You became aware of your problem when you met James Barnes, or Bucky as he insisted everyone called him, though you never did.

The lights of the bar glowed as you sat sipping your wine with a spliff in your hand. This was one of the only bars you had found on tour that you were allowed to smoke anything you liked in, not that anyone else was since it’s the 21st century and it’s frowned upon. Not that that stopped you though.

You spotted Bucky across the room and waltzed over to where he was sitting with someone who you’d learn was called Steve Rogers and was his best friend.

“Mind of I buy you a drink?” You asked, thinking that he’d know exactly who you were. Much to your surprise and a slight bruising to your ego, he didn’t.

“Sorry, doll, but I’m fine, thanks.”

“How about your friend here, looks like he needs a refill.” You new it was stupid, but you were high, somewhat drunk and were attempting to get with at least one of the two. Maybe both, if they were up for it.

“Look, doll, I’m not tryin’ to be rude, but I don’t let alcoholics or drug addicts buy my drinks.”

“I’m not an addict.” You say in disbelief that he would call you out like that so quickly. He arched an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen you go through eight glasses of red wine, three shots of vodka and you’ve been smoking weed since you got in here an hour and a half ago, doll.”

“Fuck.” You murmur as realisation hits you and you slump down onto the booth beside the blonde man after he scooted over a bit.

You knew you liked drugs and alcohol but you never saw it for what it was. Your band mates all smoked and did drugs, but you’re rockstars, you thought it was normal.

“I’m Bucky and this is Steve.” Bucky said, telling somewhat sorry for you. You were incredibly beautiful and incredibly charming but Bucky wasn’t going to give in to your charms until you were sober and fully aware. And for the first time since you changed your name, you didn’t introduce yourself as Daisy Jones.

“I’m Y/n.” You said as Bucky pulled out a pen and you allowed him to write his number on your hand.

“You’re a real sweet girl, Y/n. Give me a call when you’re sober and we can go from there.”

PART TWO COMING SOON

[lovelybrandt]

Football Oneshots - Relaxing At Beach Room - Kai Havertz Smut

!!Smut Warning!! 🔞🍑🔥💗💦

Lexi's POV

I Deeply Inhale, Then I Ring Kai's Doorbell. The Things He Told Me About His Feelings Were Quite Shocking For Me And I Just Knew I Had To Do Something. Therefore I Made Up An Excuse For Him So He Could Have Ten Days Off. And Since I Have Reverstarted The Next Two Weeks As My Holidays But Haven't Booked Anything We Decided To Go On A Holiday Togheter. We Will Spend A Week In A Little Village In The South Of Spain, Then We Will Fly To Germany And See His Friends And Family For A Weekend. I Really Hope That This Well Give Him The Push He Needs To Show How Fantastic He Is To The World.

"Hey Lexi, So Good To See You. And Thank You For Doing This For And With Me!", Kai Says As He Opens The Door Whilst He Pulls Me Close. I Hug Him, Deeply Inhaling His Scent, And Answer: "Don't Thank Me. I'm Happy To Go On a Holiday with You'll Be Happier". Incredibly Fast. This Man Is Just... I Don't Know. I Have No Words For How Great He Is.

About Six Hours Later We've Finally Arrived In The Little Village. It's Called Los Caños De Meca And I Absoulutely Love It Here. Kai And I Have Rented A Little House For The Week And It Really Is A Dream. The From The Terrace It's About Twenty Or Thirthy Metres Until You're In The Ocean, The House's Patio Is Full Of Plants And Vert Quiet And Private And The Bedrooms Have The Most Beautifiul View One The Both The Beach And The Village. The Only Problem We Have Is That We Will Have To Do A 30 Minute Drive If We Need Something From The Supermarket But That's Okay And We've Already Bought The Basics On Our Way Here.

I Am Just Enjoying The View From The One Of The Bedrooms As Kai Suddenly Wraps His Arms Around Me, Placing His Head On My Shoulder. "It's Beautiful Here. Almost As Beautifiul As On My Shoulder. "It's Beautiful Here. Almost As Beautiful As You.", He Whispers, Making Me Blush Deeply Again. Also He Kisses My Cheek Which Activiates The Butterflies In My Stomach. I Turn Around In His Arm And Wrap My Arms Around His Neck Whilst Looking Him In The Eyes. "You're So Cute Kai. And You're Fucking Beautiful As Well." The German Smiles Bright And Strokes Over My Hair And My Face Whilst Smiles Bright And Strokes Over My Hair And My Face Whilst Our Eyes Keep Contact. This Moment Is Filled With This Special Kind Of Tension And It Gets More Intesne With Every Milimetre Our Faces Moves Close.

His Lips Are Warm And A Little Rough But That Is Totally Fine. They Are Kai's Lips And So They Are Perfect To Me. They Move In Perfect Sync With Mine, Using A Little More Pressure With Every Second. It's Unbelievably Intense And The Intensity Only Increases As I Tap Against His Bottom Lip With My Tongues And He Lets It In. At Firsts Our Tongues Play A Very Soft Game But It Becomes A Fight Within A Short Time. Also Kai Pulls Me Closer And One Of His Hands Glides Down Mouth And Let My Hands Slip Under His Shirt. I Really Enjoy Touching His Muscular Body. I Mean... I Do It All The Time In My Job And There I Barely Care About It But Right Now It's Very Special And I Really Enjoy It. Butt Touching Them Is Not Enough, I Also Wanna See Them.

My Fingers Play With The Seam Of His Shirt And Quickly Pull It Over His Head Before He Does The Same With Mine With His Free Hand. I Never Wear A Lacy Bra Flying Somewhere And So He Can See My Boobs Now Which Makes Me Kinda Nervous. They're Rather Small And Even Though I Know It Pulled Off His Skirt Very Revealing Panties Kai Doesn't Really Care About Their Size, He Just Stares At Them As If He Has Never Seen Boobs Before And Gently Grabs Them With His Big Hands. He Starts Massaging Them And I Throw Head My Back, Letting Out A Little Moan. He Chuckles And Whispers: "That's So Sound So Hot. And Hot Is The Perfect Way To Describe You. You're Fucking Hot Lexi

His Words Make Me Blush Again And Also Send Shivers Kai Gets Then I Taking Off Unclasped Her Bra Pulled Off Throwing The Down On Clothes Down My Spine. I Want To Answer But In The Same Second Name. I Can Feel Him Smile Against My Boobs And That Also Makes Me Smile. Everything Just Feels So Good Right Now. Suddenly Kai Lifts Me Up And Since I Didn't Expect It I Let Out A Surprised Squeak. He Chuckles And The Throws Me On The Beds, Crawling Over Me, Kissing Me Again. I Return The Kiss Lust Fully And For Some Time We Just Lay There, Make Other's Upper Body. But I Want More Than Just That And So I Turn Us Around So That I Am On Top Of Kai Now.

My Lips Leaves His And Wander Down To His Necks Which I Softly Suck On, Making A Little Hickey. Kai Clearly Enjoys That And Lets Out A Loud Groan. That Sounds So Incredibly Sexy That My Princess Parts Are A Literal Ocean Right Now. I Think I've Never Been That Wet Before, It's Unbelievable! Anyway, I Keep Kissing Down His Body, Leaving A Trace Of Hickeys On His Upper Body, Until Arrive At The Seam Of His Jeans. I Look Him In The Face For A Moment, Enjoying The Horniness In His Eyes And That His Lips Are Shaking A Little, Then I Take Off His Jeans And Boxers, Revealing His Hard Dick.

I Gently Wrap My Hand Around It, Moving It Up And Down Slowly Before I Start Giving Him Head. I Softly Lick His Tip, Then I Wrap My Lips Around It And Start Sucking Hard Whilst Letting My Tongue Play With His Foreskin. Also Move My Head Up And Down At Slow Pace. I Intensify It More And More And Really Appreciate His Groans That Are Becoming Louder And Louder With Second. "Fuck!", He Gasps Again And Again Whilst Ruffling Trough My Hair. That Only Encourages Me To Do More And So I Deep Throat Him From Time To Time, Making Him Moan Even Louder.

After A Few Minutes His Percum Drops Onto My Tongue And I Swallow It Before Kissing My Way Up Again. Kai's Eyes Get Big He Understands What My Plan Is But Not In A Bad Way, He Definitely Appreciates It. I Get A Condom Out Of My Backpack And The Return To The Beds Whilst Kai Puts It On I Me, Sticking His Dick In Balls-Deep. We Both Moan Into Each Other's Mouth And Our Moaning Becomes A Constant Sound As He Starts Moving, His Thrusts Are Deep, Slow And Intense And That Feels So Fucking Good. It's Really Intimate. It Ain't Even About The Sex It's Self, It's More About The Emotions. Getting To Be So Close To Someone You've Loved For Such A Getting To Be So Close To Someone You've Loved For Such A Long Time Is Just Great. And Feelings Each Other's Emotions That Intensely Is Crazy. And Feelings Each Other's Emotions That Intensely Is Crazy. I Try To Show All My Love And Happiness And At The Sane Time Feel My Heart Break As I Things, Even Tough I Also Feel Kai's Insecurity, Anxiety, Sadness And The Other Bad Things, Even I Though I Also Fell The Love He Gives Me. The Intensity Is Just So Fucking Crazy And It Even Increases And Really Overwhelms Us And So We Lay There, Have Sex And Cry Whilst Holding Onto Each Other For Dear Life. It's Such A Special, Emotional And Intimate Experience. I Have Never Felt So Many Things At The Same Time Before, It's Just So Crazy.

Since We're Both Concentrating On Our Emotions So Much We Don't Really Give The Great Physical Feelings And So We're As We Both Cum At The Sane Time. We Need Some Time To Calm Down And Even After Kai Has Thrown The Condom Away We Just Lie There, Hold Each Other And Stay Silent. It's A Beautifiul Yet A Little Awkward Moment. Like... We Just Had Each Other And We Both Know That We're Not Just Friends But At The Same Time We Officially Aren't More Than That. It's Just... Weird.

A Few Hours Later We're On Our Way Back To The House. We've Just Eaten Some Good Food In A Resturant And Now We're Walking At The Beach. We Don't Hold Hands But The Touch From Time To Time Because We're So Close To Each Other. After Some Time I Get All My Courage Together And Take His Hand. Kai Immediately Squeezes It, Then We Just Walk Again. But Just For A Few Seconds, Then He Suddenly Pulls Me In A Hug And Kisses Me Again. I Truly Enjoy Thus Kiss, This Afternoon It Was So Rough And Lustfully And Sloppy But This One Is Very Soft And Gentle And Just Very Emotional.

As We Let Go Of Each Other After Some Time Kai Whispers: "This Might Be Crazy But Life Is Crazy. Lexi, I've Totally Fallen In Love With You And The Intense Experience We Had This Can't Live Without You Anymore. Please, Lexi, Be My Girlfriend. I Love You". I Chuckle, Put My Hand On His Cheek And Reply: "That Ain't Crazy Kai. The Feelings I Have When Being With You Are Crazy Kai. The Feelings I Have When Being With You Are Crazy Kai. The Love I Have For You. And Yes, If Course I Want To Be Your Girlfriend." Kai Smile Bright, Then He Kisses Me Once Again Before We Return To The Airbnb.

An Hour Later We're Lying In Bed Snuggled Up Togheter And Just Enjoying Being With Each Other. Kai's Prescribe, Warmth And Scent Are So Calming That I Start A sleeping Quite Soon. Whilst I'm In This Weird State Between Being Awake And Asleep I Hear Kai Whisper: Thank You Lexi. For Listening For Me, For Getting Me Some Days Off, For Being Here With Me, For Taking Me To My Family Next Week And Especially For Being You. I Really Don't Know What Hi Would Do Without You, My Love. I Really Don't Know What I Would Do Without You, My Love. Sleep Well." Which Makes Me Smile Even Though I Am Too Tired To Answer.

The End!!!

Title: Füßball Oneshots Kai Havertz × Lexi 2/2

This Was Reupload Stories Private From barcaisforever On Wattpad

[reincarnatedonthefirst]

Yesterday was a success. I had the three-hour dinner date with the out-of-state client.

I started off around 8:30 AM, making calls to find a dry cleaner that could clean my date night dress by 3PM. I found a place eighteen miles from me, dropped it off, and picked it up at 3PM.

I painted my fingernails and toes before picking up the dress. My hands turned out beautifully, but my toes: not so much.

Anyhow, I got ready and I made such a good choice with that dress because it was a fcking knockout on me. The client was actually short, bald, and overweight and I very much looked like a high-paid hooker next to him at the restaurant.

Anyway, conversation was great during dinner. It turns out, we both grew up in the same city, graduated from the same college (different years because he’s in his sixties), and he sent his daughters to the same private school I went to in high school!

I still need to get used to dinner etiquette but I’m doing better. When we got to the table, I hesitated before sitting and waited for him to pull my chair out. I let him open all doors and walk in back of me. However, as usual, I forgot to remove my napkin from my lap when excusing myself from the table and it fell off my lap and onto the floor. He almost bent down to pick up for me but I made the mistake and bending over and picking it up myself. Also, I referred to the bathroom as “bathroom” instead of “ladies room” when I excused myself. I’m still rough around the edges when dining out and I need to refine my skills.

Anyhow, getting back to his hotel was a bit awkward but I did what made most sense. He was in town on business and had no car. I had my car with me so it made sense that we just drive together to the hotel in my car. He paid for my valet. We got to the hotel, though, the valet offered us a cheaper alternative for parking so we wouldn’t have to pay the overnight parking rate. I accepted the alternative parking, but in retrospect, I should have let my date handle that conversation with the valet. During dates, it’s best to let the client take the lead especially when they’re paying for everything unless the client is a fumbling, bumbling idiot.

Anyway, we got back to his room, I spent about five minutes in the bathroom, changing and preparing my nether regions for sex.

When I got out of the bathroom, he wasted no time and immediately started kissing me. He actually has a slightly effeminate tone when he speaks and he’s a very gentle person. You might even think he was gay but he is very heterosexual man. He was groping while we kissed like a man who was starving for sex.

Sex, in general, was horrific because he spent nearly an hour going down on me. He gnawed my vagina raw. It was horrible. Men have positively no clue how to perform oral on women. I just gritted my teeth and endured it. He made me cum within the first twenty minutes but only because I was moving my hips and grinding my vagina on his face. He then spent another forty minutes on a desperate mission to give me an orgasm again… It was so unnecessary. Men over fifty seem to have a preoccupation with “pleasing” women but they all suck at it like younger men.

Anyway, we finally got to penetration at the end. He lasted about a minute and a half. I was “into it” (I enjoy sex, generally, so I don’t have to “fake” anything). He was very pleased with all the intimacy in general and remarked on our “chemistry”. He said I was now his “friend” and he would have to see me again, whether or not he came back to my city or decided to fly me to him. We will see. But he was a very satisfied customer and I’m proud of what I accomplished with him, service-wise.

He walked me back to valet through the hotel. This time, I looked like even more of a high-paid hooker because I was walking next to him in this dope, sexy dress while he escorted me in a t-shirt and jeans. No one really saw us because it was late. Even if they had, I wouldn’t have cared because I do for a living what most people are too afraid or ashamed of to do and I get paid for it.

Anyway, I hope to get more dinner date clients because I enjoy dressing up and it pays well.

The most unglamorous part of the date was ending up with a swollen, raw clitoris. My vagina was so raw and tender that my pee burned it when I got home. 😑 No bueno.

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Thirty Three - Data Storage

Police officer: Is there a Mr. Fall around?

I got the chills all around my body. If the police are asking for me, it sure has something to do with the doors and that can’t be a good sign for any of us. I raised my hand and stood out in front of the group of staff members and teachers. 

Police officer A: James William Fall? The headmistress told us that you are the one in charge of all the entries. Is that right? James: Yes ma’am, how can I help? Police officer A: Come with us, we need more, private talk. James: As you wish.

I was about to shit myself. What could she possibly want from me and why does she take me into crossfire with one of her mates. We were going for a bit before we entered one of the classrooms. The officer I was talking to was leaning against the teacher's desk while the other one was walking around in circles, which made me even more nervous than I had to be. 

Police officer A: Listen Mr. Fall, We just need to know if there is any backup of who went in and outside the door. We haven’t seen any signs of a break in, the person must have gotten in through the door just like anyone else. James: Oh right! Yeah I…One Second! Police officer B: Hey Kid, slow it down. There might be a weapon in this thing. Police officer A: Kent just shut it, he isn’t armed he’s frightened. And if you start to gunpoint nothing will make him do it faster so just stay silent. Police officer B: Hmpf James: Alright, may I please use the table? Thanks. This is the log from Royal Holloway over the last twenty four hours. That’s the timespan we have right? Police officer A: Apparently so, we don’t have an exact time of crime. James: Al right. Hmmm that’s unusual. Police officer A: What is? James: It seems that the door to the gallery was open the entire day. It was opened by one of the art teachers and closed by our headmistress late at night. Police officer B: Sounds pretty normal to me. James: It isn’t. The opening is the same if we compare it to older days. The first error is that the door wasn’t shut once during the entire day. Also since when is the Headmistress the one who closes, especially that late at night. Police officer A: You’re right, that is suspicious. Could you make us a copy of that? James: I sure can do that, but it’ll take some time. Police officer A: How long are we talking about? James: I’m not sure, it’s quite some data. Could be half an hour, maybe one. It could also be three hours. Police officer A: Is there anything we can do? James: I just need a quiet place and a data storage that’s okay with you. 

The lady was giving me a USB port and then left the room with her mate. Oh man, I never thoughtI’d be in such a messy situation. It makes no sense though. Why was the headmistress in school that late and why was she the one who closed the door. I was thinking hard about any upcoming events that may take place in the gallery but nothing. Well, I may not know it, but I know someone who knows everything relevant in this place. Lucia. 

I went outside and looked around for the two officers until I found her. I kindly asked them if they could or could send someone to guard Henry while I was having a talk with Lucia outside. I made my way through the mostly empty hallways and out of a side door to avoid the crowd in front of the school. I spotted Lucia from a distance and tried to get her attention, but nothing. The crowd got bigger compared to when I arrived, so it was way more difficult to reach her, but I did. I took her aside and out of the crowd so we could have a better chat. 

Lucia: James! What the hell is getting one? James: You tell me why is there such a huge crowd? Lucia: Everyone’s just pissed that no one cares to give us an answer of what happened. Please say you know what it is. James: I’m sorry, but the police told me not what happened. Lucia: So why are you here then? James: Because I need your help. You’re popular, and you always have a lot of intel. Lucia: What is it you need? James: Was there any Event happening around the gallery in the last twenty four hours. Think hard. Or have you seen something unusual? Lucia: The gallery? No, not that I’m aware of. James: Anything else that could help? Lucia: Know that you say it, I believe there was a silver van standing alongside the gallery for almost the entire day. It stood there when I came here. I’ve seen how two people were goin got the van with a blanket late at night. James: That’s big news! Would, would you be able to talk to one of the officers with me? I think this could really help the situation. Lucia: Yeah sure!

Said and done. I took her through the door. I went outside and got back to the room where the guard was still looking over Henry. I went to the officer who I had talked to and said that Lucia might know some pieces that are relevant for future analyses of the situation.

I really hope we find a way out.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 3

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 3: Welcome Home

In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days. 

He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.

They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow. 

The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested. 

And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection. 

Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.

“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.

Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.

“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”

You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”

You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”

You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.

That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.

Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.

“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.

At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”

You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already hear what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.   

But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.

You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.

“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.

A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.

Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.

Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.

The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process. 

You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”

He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.

And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.

“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”

His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head. 

“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”

You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…

Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”

You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.

The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).

Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”

He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.

“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.

The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.

Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.

When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.

“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”

You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.

“Coffee sounds great,” you said.

You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.

It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.

In your experience, a good man was hard to find.

“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.

“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.   

“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.  

“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you. 

“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.

“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.

“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song. 

Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.

Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while. 

“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”

“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”

Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.

“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.

“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”

You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.

Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.

“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”

Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.

That struck a familiar bell.

“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.

He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”

Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”

You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.

“You have a brother?”

“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”

A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”

He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.

“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade. 

You let out a wry chuckle. 

“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily. 

You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.

You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.

“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last. 

Past tense, he noted. 

“Good guy?” he asked. 

“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines. 

“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”

“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough. 

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said. 

Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them. 

Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.

“Jesus. How long?” he asked.

“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”

You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand. 

“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.

“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.

Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories. 

“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”

Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”

“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”

“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”

You shot him a look of amusement. 

“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.

You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.

“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”

That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”

You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.

“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.

He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.” 

You covered your face and laughed. 

Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”

You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.

“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.

“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”

Beau recognized your hesitance.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”

You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.

Beau liked that smile too.

Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.

“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.

“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.

“Really?” Cassie remarked.

“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.

“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.

“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”

Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

Beau rolled his eyes.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.

Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.

Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.

“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”

Beau shot her a wry look.

“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.” 

He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”

“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.

“Hey! She can hear you.”

Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”

 Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.

“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.

“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.

To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.

“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.

“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.

You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape. 

Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.

“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”

Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.

“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.

“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.

Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.

“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.

Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.

“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.

“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.

“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.

“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.

“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.

“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.

She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.

Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.

That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.

“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.

“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”

Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”

After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.

While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.

Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.

“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.

“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased. 

“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.” 

Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.

Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.

The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.

Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.

“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.

Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.

“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”

It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”

Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”

You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.

“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded. 

“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”

You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.

“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.

Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.

There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends. 

“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners. 

“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”

You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea. 

“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.  

Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.

Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes. 

“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked. 

That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.

“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you. 

“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied. 

“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in. 

“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.

“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.

You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary. 

“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”

You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.

“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.” 

“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.

You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.

When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.

“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”

Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”

“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.

You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.

“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.

Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.

“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—” 

“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.

He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”

You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?

…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice. 

Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon. 

Then you wished him a good night. 

“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”

Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.

AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...

Next Time:

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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[ijustwant2write]

Runaway-Finn Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @dialnfornoir​)

Masterlist

Summary: On her brisk walk home, (Y/N) witnesses a brutal Peaky Blinder attack, attempting to run away when Finn Shelby comes after her, only to sweep her off her feet.

Characters: Finn Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name 

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Come on (Y/N), not even one drink? We won't even make you stay, just the one!" my friend moaned as I denied their proposal of going to the Garrison.

"You said that last time, and I ended up staying until early hours." I laughed.

They all put their hands together as they started begging. I also laughed at this, embarrassed by the attention that was suddenly on us.

"No, seriously. I have to be good with money this month. Thanks to you lot, I'm having to be frugal for the rent."

They sighed."Fine, we won't make you come. But you will be missed. Just get home safe, OK?"

"I will. You too, please don't get too drunk and end up sleeping outside."

"That was one time!"

I shook my head as we giggled, waving goodbye when I turned to walk home. We had just finished work, so it was still relatively light out; I would say it was less dangerous to walk alone, but we did live in Small Heath. Yawning after the long, boring shift, I adjusted my coat around me, trying to keep warm. All I wanted was a good dinner, get cleaned up and snuggle into bed, maybe read a few chapters of the book I had if my eyelids could stay open. I was only in my early twenties and already feeling like an old woman.

Home wasn't far, a good twenty minute walk, which could be a bad thing if it was raining, a lovely stroll if not. I lived in the better part of Small Heath (if there even was one), walking home from work had never been an issue. Until I heard the unfamiliar sounds of desperate begging and crying, as well as thumps and slaps of skin of skin contact. My eyes widened, heart beat accelerating when I realised someone was begging for their life. There was no other way home for me, I had to take this route. What I should have done was turn around to join my friends for that drink, but the natural human tendency to be curious took over. As I cautiously continued my way home, I couldn't help but glance down the alleyway behind a row of houses, spotting four young boys surrounding an older man, who looked like he was being beaten to a pulp by one of them. I froze, having never seen a brawl like this up close. It was as if I were delayed, somehow taking ages to register that I had to leave before they spotted me.

Unfortunately one of their heads snapped up to look at me, tapping his friends on the shoulder, pointing at me as he shouted for them to stop. My legs still wouldn't move, staring at the man who's face was soaked red with his own blood. It wasn't until one of the young men started approaching me that I sprinted away, suddenly terrified about what could happen to me.

I cursed myself for being such a bad runner, as well as the shoes I was wearing. My lungs were working incredibly hard, my throat drying up whilst my mind panicked as it tried to remember which way was home. I let out a scream as the boy grabbed me, crying out in pain when they pushed me against the brick wall. Attempting to scramble out of their hold was useless, they were pushing their whole weight on me, I had no escape.

"(Y/N)?" he said my name.

My eyes widened, realising who had a hold of me. It was Finn Shelby.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? We went to school together. You might not remember me, but we definitely did."

"Of course I remember you! You're Finn fucking Shelby.”

"Oh right."

"Please don't hurt me."

He looked confused."Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're currently pinning me against a wall, and I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe if I'm honest."

He glanced down, quickly pushing himself away from me. I tried to hide getting my breath back, letting out a quick cough. It seemed he wasn't going to hurt me, and he wasn't being sadistic about that phrase either.

"I'm sorry. You alright?"

I slowly nodded, still wanting to be on the safe side.

"I remember you from school. Obviously changed a lot, though I have seen you from time to time."

"Right."

"Look, uh, what you saw back there, I need you to forget it."

"Finn," I was scared to say his name but I did anyway,"you almost killed him."

"You know I'm a Peaky Blinder, right?"

"How could I not? And are you trying to justify what you did?"

"(Y/N), he ran a brothel using children."

"Oh."

"I mean, you couldn't have known that, so I can see how that looks from a different perspective."

"Well, I totally agree with your actions then."

"I still need you to keep quiet about the whole thing."

"Um, of course."

"Where were you headed?"

This was the longest conversation I had ever had with Finn, with a Peaky Blinder. I briefly remember him as a child, you never do have specific memories at such a young age, though I probably played with him during break time.

"Home."

"Let me walk you."

"No, honestly it's fine, it's not far."

"I insist. Part of my apology for scaring you earlier."

"Part of your apology?"

"Yeah, I'm taking you out for drinks tomorrow."

I started thinking I might have been in a dream."Sorry?"

"Do you always act this surprised at what people say? A catch up drink."

"That's alright, really, if you're trying to make it up to me-"

"Come on, just one?"

It was like deja vu.

"If you're busy tomorrow, we can always go tonight. Yeah, you know what? Let's do that instead!"

"No, Finn, really I'm fine."

"I won't take no. Please, it'll be nice, I promise all I'm asking for is a drink."

I felt obligated to go, still in a bit of shock from what happened. But my friends were at the Garrison, if they saw me with Finn they would think I was ditching them, and what would it look like for me to be walking in with a Shelby?! However, I felt bad when I saw how happy Finn was; and even if he tried anything later I would undoubtedly slap him, I wasn't afraid of that (I tried to convince myself). When I agreed, his smile grew even bigger, instantly heading towards the pub.

I was trying to focus on what he was babbling on about, only my mind was preoccupied with the dreaded stares of my friends. That was one fo the worst things you could do as a girl, ditch your friends for a boy. Then there would be questions about how I met him, why didn't I tell them, why didn't I bring him along to drinks etc. I'd look like any other desperate girl that tried to cling onto the arm of any Shelby, desperate for a taste of the dangerous, gangsta life, even if it was just for one night.

As we walked in, I felt sick, immediately spotting my friends on their usual table they always tried to grab. They hadn't seen me yet, so I attempted to hide behind Finn, keeping my head down as we stood at the bar.

Finn was served first before anyone else."Whiskey Harry, and you?"

"Um, wine please."

"Just put them through the window, yeah?"

I was confused when we walked to the private room, it felt like I was trespassing. Though this gave me a good hiding place from my friends, chancing to glance back at them before disappearing. They still hadn't seen me.

Finn casually sat down, looking relaxed. I stood, not sure whether to join him, which was a stupid thing to think when he had invited me.

"Are you going to stand there the whole time?" he chuckled.

I said nothing as I sat down opposite him, not wanting to become trapped in the booth with him. I still wasn't sure what to say once seated, hating that this could become awkward at any second.

"Are you OK? You seem a bit shaken up still." he asked.

"I'm fine." I squeaked out, knowing he could see right through me.

"You're all nervous, what's wrong?" he smirked.

I sighed."My friends are out there."

"Oh, well go tell them to join us."

"No!" I snapped too quickly."Look, I said no to drinks earlier, hence why I was on my way home, and I was scared what they would think or feel if they saw me waltz in with you."

"Don't want to be seen with a Blinder?"

"No, just didn't want them to think I chose a boy over my friends."

He gave me a pointed look.

"And I guess it would seem strange if I suddenly walked back in with a Blinder."

"Why did you say no in the first place?"

"Because money is tight. That was another reason I was hesitant to come, honest."

"You're not paying (Y/N)."

"Oh, Finn-"

"No, because I literally get this stuff for free." the small window into the room opened."Speaking of."

He reached over and grabbed our drinks, handing mine to me before clinking the glasses together. Unlike Finn, who threw the whole drink back, I sipped on my wine, and god was it good. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, letting out a satisfied breath.

"So what have you been up to since school?"

"Well, I've got a job at this clothes shop, you might have passed it but we only deal with women’s clothing, so I doubt you’ve been in. Uh, I actually started there as a shop assistant after I left school, you know, running errands and doing the little things no one else wanted to do. Then they started giving me proper jobs, I’m also a book keeper now and-” I glanced at Finn, realising that I was rambling,“-sorry, I’m talking too much.”

“No, no you’re not.” he chuckled, waving a hand in the air.

“Long story short, I work in a clothes shop. What about you?”

I closed my eyes as soon as I finished my sentence, wincing at my stupidity.

“I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to be smart or pry, obviously I know...no I don’t know...”

“You’re cute when you stumble over your words.”

I wasn’t expecting that.“E-excuse me?”

Before things could get any more awkward, the door opened, making us both jump. I felt my heart drop down into the pit of my stomach when I saw who it was, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me; his brothers were here.

“What the fuck are you doing in here Finn boy?”Arthur asked (if you didn’t know all their names, you had to be incredibly simple).

“Failing to get another bird in your bed?” John smirked.

“Shut up John.” Finn spat.“This is (Y/N), she’s an old friend from school.”

They filtered in. John scoffed.“Surprised you remember anything about school. Have you asked him what five pus five is?”

John and Arthur laughed as they sat down opposite us, Thomas standing besides the window for the drinks. I clasped my hands together as they started to shake out of nerves. I was in a room with the Shelby brothers, the men who ran one of the most feared gangs in England, and I had no clue what to do with myself. 

“Um, I think I should go.” I pathetically mumbled out.

“Don’t be rude Finn,” Thomas said,“show the lovely, young lady out.”

Finn was glaring at his brothers as we stood. I slowed down my steps so I didn’t appear to be running away from them. Finn opened the door for me, and I felt weightless as soon as I stepped out of that room. He followed me out, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just being their usual stupid selves.” he apologised.

“It’s alright, really. Don’t tell them they bothered me or anything because they really didn’t.”

“You don’t have to worry. They won’t do anything to you because we had a drink together.”

“Sorry, just not used to...”

“Meeting a gangster?”

I hummed in agreement.“Yeah.”

“Look, I definitely need to go back in there. But I liked this. Apart from how we bumped into each other.”

“Yes, that could have been different.”

“I would like to do this again though.”

“You would?”

“There you go again, acting all surprised. How about this weekend?”

“I-I’m free this weekend.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Saturday.” he smiled at me, turning to go back into the private room before calling the bartender.“Oh, Harry, another wine for my friend.”

He winked at me, then disappeared into the room. I heard heckling and teasing from his brothers. I could feel that my cheeks were heating up from blushing, though I also couldn’t help but smile. Thanking the bartender for the wine, I quickly took it, freezing when I saw my friends staring at me. Sighing, I took a big gulp of the drink before making my way towards them. This was going to be a longer night than I thought.

[sebastianstansqueen]

He Rescues Her Right Back 1

A/N: My first part to this story I hope you guys like it! As always Feedback is always appreciated if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,918

Warnings: Smut, little angst, fluff, and I think that's it? I missed any thing tell me pleas!

Masterlist //  Taglist open // Series Masterlist

Tags: @cherryblossomskye - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel -

You were a woman who had everything but you didn’t have one thing that everyone else did which was a partner, your lawyer Val was a hit with women and men, her wife Carol was often jealous though put up with her wifes antics, they threw a party in honor of you, but you were hidden up stairs on the phone with your date, and current fling? “Y/n you can’t expect me to be at your beck and call.” He told you through the phone. 

“Come on, Eric, I really need you here.” You begged the man on the other end of the phone call.

“Y/n, no, I’m done, you're always too busy to actually go on dates, I still don’t understand why my cousin thought we would be a good couple.” The man said with irritation. 

“Eric, if you come I’ll buy you anything you want.” You state to the man. 

You could hear the sigh he released, making you think he’d give in and head over. “No, you can’t just buy me off Y/n, bye.” You heard the disconnecting sound of the man.

You rolled your eyes, walking out of the private room, you then bumped into an ex of yours, the two of you were still friends so you were comfortable talking to him. “Loki, do you think that I tried buying you off, or that you had to be at my beck and call?” 

“You want me to be honest?” He asked, you nodded in response. “I mean this with no offense, but yeah, I care for you but you need to work on learning how to work and love someone.” 

“Meaning there’s possibly no way for me to actually find love.” You sighed. 

Loki looked down at you. “No, that's not what I’m saying, just make work less your life, I’ve got to go, but Y/n I’m sure you will eventually find someone.” He patted your shoulder before walking away. 

You walked out of the nice house in irritation, you tried getting an uber but that wasn’t really a option, because it would have taken over an hour for one to get here, you stood out front just waiting, until it was over to see if you could get someone to take you back to your hotel, you sat down on the steps, smoking a cigarette, Val came out front. “What’s going on?” She asked. “This is a party in your honor, and you're not even there?” 

“I just want to leave, I don’t have a date so what's the point?” You sighed, while blowing out smoke. 

“I’m sorry, take one of my cars to your hotel Y/n.” She told you. 

“I-I couldn’t.” You shook your head, not really wanting to add that you didn’t exactly remember how to drive because you hadn’t had to do it since you were in your late teens and early twenties, your still decently young, twenty-seven but you hadn’t needed to drive yourself in years, because back in california you never needed to you had a driver for it there. 

The woman shook her head. “No, I insist, let me go get you the keys.” She headed back inside to grab the keys. Once she came back outside she handed you the keys, and headed back to the party, you cringed at yourself as you backed out of the driveway, almost hitting Val’s garbage cans. You got lost in the unfamiliar city even when following the map on your phone.

Meanwhile in a very different part of town, Bucky, was getting ready to go ‘out’ he knew he was a good looking man, and that he could make money simply by just using his body, so that’s what he chose to do, he could still look sort of professional, and still get paid plenty of money, by average or rich women, and even also did online camera work most of the time. He walked about a block away from his apartment, when an expensive car abruptly stopped passed him. 

You stopped by a curb, you held the steering wheel and took deep breaths to calm yourself down repeating in a whisper. ‘Your going to be fine you're doing fine’ you were about to start the car again when there was a soft knock on the window, you sighed and rolled down the window. “Hey you lookin’ for a date?” The man asked. 

“Not at the moment, but it would have been good about six hours ago.” You sighed. “I do need help getting to Staten island.” “Ten bucks, and I’ll get you there as fast as possible.” He smirked.

You scoffed at the man. “Ten dollars for a way to get to where I need to go?” 

“Moved up to twenty.” He said cockly.

You huffed. “You can't do that.” 

“Hey baby, I can do whatever I want when I know where to go.” He shrugged, turning around to leave.

“Hey, don’t leave, fine fine you live, I only have fifty, you got change?” You asked with an arched brow. 

He got into the car, taking the fifty dollar bill. “Nope but for that, I’ll give you personal.” You started to go driving once again now with the guy in the passenger. “Light’s on, lights on.” He said repetitively, you turned on the lights. “Turn right.” At one point he had you pull over for him to take over driving. 

He pulled up to the hotel's underground parking. “Come up, I'll get you an uber.” You offered him. 

He gave her a uh-hu. “Sure, and uber.” He nodded. 

You and he rode up in the elevator. “So how much are your type of workers making nowadays?” You asked him. 

“Three hundred.” He replied. 

You arched a brow. “A night wow Impressive.” It came out more sarcastic than you meant it to. 

“An hour.” He smirked, your eyes widened. “So who are you, and why are you in the penthouse suite?” He arched his brow.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” She introduced. “I’m a-”

He cut you off.“CEO of the engineering company located in California.” 

“Yeah uh, Y/l/n Engineering.” You corrected it. “And who are you?”

“James Barnes, call me Bucky, or Buck, and you already know what I-” He cut himself off upon seeing the elevator doors open. “What the hell? I've never seen something like this, how can you- what the hell this is a mansion on top of a hotel?” 

“That’s kinda what a penthouse is.” You shrugged with a small laugh, pulling out your phone to get an uber for Bucky. “Fuck.” You said with slight irritation. “I hate this city.” You huffed. 

“What’s the wait time?” He asked, still looking amazed at the ceiling.

“Almost three hours.” You rolled your eyes. 

Bucky huffed. “I can stay on the couch.” 

“Bucky there’s multiple room’s, and since you have to stay I’ll pay you for a full eight hours, so a full night of sleep.” You offered softly.

Bucky nodded.“Yeah that seems fair.”

“I’ll get us some room service, uh what do you like?” You questioned as you walked to the phone in the living room section of the room. 

“Get what you like, I’ll eat and drink anything.” Bucky said passively. 

You glared at him. “I’m not your ‘client’ so tell me what you liked, for real, and I’ll get us anything.” 

His lips pierced. “Steak or Ribs but I don’t know.”

“Why not both.” You shrugged. 

Bucky shook his head. “No, I couldn’t ask for you to do that.” 

“It’s nothin’.” You shrugged, then called the font desk. “Um hi I wanna order two medium rare steaks, a full rack of ribs, and a bottle of the finest red wine.” Once off the phone you turned back to him. “It’ll be up in a little while.” 

The two of you sat down. “Tell me more about yourself, Bucky.” 

“Well I currently have two roommates.” He said.

“Are they aware of what you do?” You asked. 

He nodded. “They kinda have to, plus we know who’s paying most of the rent, also I bring work home.”

“You bring the women back to the apartment?” You said with furrowed brows. 

He laughed and shook his head. “No, I do cam work online too.”

“Oh.” You say. 

He looked at you. “Tell me about you.”

“I’m really not that interesting.” You laughed softly, he looked at you pointedly, then the elevator doors opened. 

“Miss. Y/l/n?” The hotel staff asked, looking for you. 

“Uh in the living room.” You say aloud. The man pushed a cart into the room. “Thank you.” You smiled.

“Call if you need anything Miss.” He turned to leave. 

You and Bucky ate the food brought up, along with drinking the wine. “This time really tell me about yourself.” Bucky pushed. 

“Alright.” You mumbled. “I live alone, just as of…” You looked at the time on your phone reading 1:47 A.M. “Yesterday, my most recent boyfriend broke up with me, and work is very important.” 

“That’s lonely, you’ve gotta have friends.” Bucky said looking kinda pitiful of you. 

You took a sip of the red wine. “I never said I didn’t have friends, I do, I just don’t work well in relationships.”

“Can’t get wet?” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t seem to actually love.” You shrugged. 

“What about your family?” Bucky asked. “Surely you love your family.” 

“Of course I do, but I’m so focused on my work when I am in a relationship, I tend to uh as both of my ex’s said buy them off, or think that I only want them there at my beck and call.” You shrugged. 

Bucky smiled and chuckled softly. “Well baby, I wouldn’t mind being bought stuff and at someone's beck and call, I mean yeah you’d expect me to say something like that since I do what I do, but I literally haven't had a girlfriend or anything like that in years, I don’t think I could actually love someone like in a relationship like you feel, also sort of work oriented if you can say that, and if you think about it we’re similar people.”

“Your a sex adict, thats why your work orented.” You laughed with him at the sly joke. 

He shrugged. “Just maybe, but I know I can make you feel good baby.” He smirked, then he leaned over, and kissed up your leg and your inner thigh, then he took your lips in a deep kiss, he undid the belt that kept the white ‘dress’ which was an oversized pantsuit jacket, with a thick white leather belt, you’d already kicked off the white stilettos you wore earlier, he pulled your panties down, and slowly rubbed at your clit, making you moan out. 

Bucky hadn’t felt this way in along time, he felt a connection with you, and also lust, this wasn’t a fuck like usual this was a form of love. You pulled at the shirt he wore, and pulled it over his head, and undid his pants, he kissed at the place in between your shoulder and neck, while he still continued rubbing slowly at your clit, you pulled his pants and boxers you pulled forward slowly sitting on his erect dick, you moved slowly against him you kissed at his lips, yours slightly swollen, both of you combed your fingers though one another's hair, the low crackle of the fire in the background.

[drivingsideways]

What's so great about Sejong? He's kind of an uggo tbh no disrespect.

you come into * my * house and-

ok, you know WHAT

*rolls up sleeves *

If you and I had been parented by Yi Bang-won, we would have DIED before reaching the tender age of 12, considering that Yi Bang won had no compunctions in killing off children related to him, but our baby boy SURVIVED multiple purges to become King, most likely because Yi Bang won thought he was clever but lacked the ambition or fire to be a threat to his own power.  However, in this Yi Bang won was FOOLED, because despite being paralyzed by a very justified fear of his PSYCHOTIC FATHER , who basically idk chopped off entire branches from the family tree and who eventually not so subtly suggested that his OWN SON and HEIR  that he’d CHOSEN personally, OFF himself, it turns out that Yi Do is a bit of a chip off the old block minus the murder-gene. [Note to self: The murder gene skipped a generation, hiii King Sejo] . Time catches up with all villains, and Yi Do made the first decision that made me go crazy for him- and it was just to SURVIVE his father, and like? The way he does it? He’s so CLEVER about it, is the thing- he gives his father the thing he wants when he says I’ll let you control the military and be advised by you in all matters of state, but it was only to get the thing he wants- the thing that he knows will enable him to build his Joseon. I’ll never forget Yi Bang won’s contemptuous little expression when Yi Do says, “I want to gather scholars together,” and Yi Bang won snorts and says, sure, go ahead, make a little building, and that little building, my friends, is the Jiphyeonjeon, or the Hall of Worthies. And of course, Yi Bang won, who sees the world as a thing to be conquered, would never understand his son’s vision; or have the patience to see it through because that would require, idk, humility? Whatever, he’s DYING, goodbye child murderer, thanks for the land and tax reform and introduction of id cards aka surveillance state, I GUESS. 

Skip forward and we have THE GREATEST GLOW UP IN MODERN CINEMATIC HISTORY when  Song Joong-ki morphs into Han Suk-kyu with his crinkly eyes and odd barks of laughter, as the older Yi-do/Sejong. And *this * Sejong? A brilliant, mercurial, tormented insomniac, who has no TIME to PLAY when MYSTERIOUS ENEMIES are picking off his people one by one, and stopping him from playing HIS GREATEST GAMBLE, the introduction of a native script that would set his people free. Going up against HISTORY, as several people say over and over; he’s going to overturn the established socio-political order and  he’s going to do it while cussing you out like a commoner. The balls on this man? Pure steel. 

It’s not just that he’s lonely because of his position, and everything that entails- which includes a physical isolation quite unique to it- it’s also that he’s the smartest man in every room he walks into, and that is it’s own special kind of loneliness. To understand the world that well, to be able to see beyond the surface, to be burdened with purpose, is to consign yourself to a private hell. And how he struggles! GOD. It’s not just his father’s legacy that torments him- what if Yi Bang won had been right after all, and why shouldn’t he use his power in the way he’s expected to- but the person he’s still answering to is his younger self- the scared, shamed child who hid behind giant sudokus, unable to confront his father or mitigate the misery of those whose lives Bang won ruined. See, someone as clever as him: he can the paths branching out in front of him; he can see the game board ten, twenty, fifty moves from now- he knows the things he’s capable of. 

And yet? He chooses the path of least harm, even when it increases the probability that he’ll lose.  He’s so good. Even in his darkest hours, in the face of incalculable loss, he won’t take the  succor , however momentary, that exercising his absolute power as King would surely give him. Instead, he chooses the hard way: the way of persuasion. But it’s not just the power of ideas in abstract; he’s very pragmatical about his tactics. I love that his wins come because he can read people- Lee Shin jeok, for eg, and even Jo Mal Saeng. He schemes AND plots AND negotiates AND persuades and he’s so clever and funny and RIGHT for it. 

One of the most moving scenes in the show is where he’s bidding farewell to So-yi, his beloved comrade,  and gives her a command that is also a blessing :Live in joy, that’s translated as.  Sejong himself has been cut off from that joy for nearly his entire life by then, because duty and responsibility  and all consuming purpose have taken precedence over everything else; it takes him till the end to be certain in his own mind that all of those were in fact, born from love, and not as he had feared, the little worm that his father had bequeathed him, and that nestles in the heart of all people. I love that in the end, he comes to this very beautiful conclusion: do the work, enjoy the wildflowers and the blue sky, because that’s all we can do, in hope and love, and the future will take care of its own. 

Tl;dr I am getting those Sejong the Great booty shorts even as I type this. 

[rogersevans]

Quarantine Wedding

Pairings: Chris Evans x Y/n Downey - Chris Evans x Y/n Evans

Warnings: just fluff, wedding (if they make you emotional), implied smut towards the end

Summary: Y/n never planned her dream wedding, but in their back garden, surrounded by their families, during a global pandemic seems pretty perfect to her. apart of the evans’ series.

Sunday mornings were Y/n’s and Chris’s favourite day of the week, the only time they got to stay in bed, tangled in the sheets and each other, going undisturbed from the outside world. Chris currently had Y/n lying between his legs, her back against his bare chest as he rested against the head of the bed.  

Y/n was absentmindedly playing with the engagement ring on her finger, something she had started to do since he put it on, twiddling it with her thumb.

Dodger was at their feet, on his back with his legs spread, snoring away.  

“We should get married.” Y/n mumbled like she was thinking something through in her mind, thumb still playing with the ring.

“We are...” Chris reminded her, placing a small kiss to her temple. “That’s what this is for.” Taking her small hand in his, holding it up to show off the ring as it glistened in the Sunday morning sun.  

“No,” she protested with a giggle, getting up onto her knees and wrapping the sheet around her naked body, turning to face her fiancé. “I mean sooner, like tomorrow.”  

“Tomorrow?”

“Or Thursday if you’re too busy.” Rolling her eyes playfully she scooted closer to him, now in his lap, the sheet now being held up by their bodies, closing the gap. Her hands finding his hair, raking her fingers through it and massaging his scalp. “I want to be Mrs Evans, I want to get married in our back garden, with our families... No one else.” Chris hummed in agreement, letting his hands fall to her hips.  

“You don’t want a big wedding?” Licking his lips, his eyes now open and focused on every detail of her, the small freckle that sat just above the curve of her right breast, the thin chain that sat around her neck with a small diamond C resting in the centre he’d bought her on their second anniversary, the butt dimpled in her chin, something she hated but another thing he adored.  

Truthfully, she didn’t, she never envisioned herself surrounded by 300 people as she said ‘I do’, she just wanted a small, intimate wedding, less than 30 people.  

The pair had been engaged for five months and the pandemic had haltered all of their plans to celebrate, they had various zoom celebrations with their families and friends and when they were allowed to travel back home their hallway was filled with presents and balloons.  

They had managed to keep the news out of the press, wanting to bask in the newness of their engagement privately, it had been blissful but Y/n was becoming impatient.  

Silently shaking her head, she dipped her head her lips just a whisper away from Chris’s, “I just want you, as my husband.” She whispered making Chris’s entire body shiver, and in one swift movement Y/n is on her back with Chris lying on his side next to her, propped up on his elbow and tracing shapes on her are stomach.

She doesn’t stop herself from reaching up and cupping his cheek, booping his nose with her thumb, making them both giggle and then running her fingers over his beard, one her favourite features of her fiancé the way it feels against her skin makes her feel alive.  

“Tomorrow.” Was all he replied with, letting his lips fall down to her nose.  

After another hour of being tangled up in one another, the room filled with her soft moans and Chris made love to her, turned on at the thought of her becoming his wife tomorrow. They started organising everything, never leaving the bed unless it was for Dodger, food or toilet breaks.  

They had delivered the news to their families and the cheers or screams (Carly and Shanna) we’re piercing, even though the speaker of their phones.  

Chris booked flights for his family to be able to attend, they were getting in at around 10pm that night. Y/n demanded that everyone be tested before they stepped foot in their home, so she arranged for someone to come out and test everyone. Y/n’s family were due to arrive tomorrow morning, the nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of her mom and dad being in the same room again, something she hadn’t experienced in years.  

“Baby, it’ll be fine.” Giving a chaste kiss to her knuckles, “we’re getting married tomorrow.” He mumbled against them, his voice raspy and tired after a long day of planning, all doubt or anxiety about her parents leaving her body just from his touch, his words settled her completely.  

“I can’t wait to be your wife.” Standing to her tiptoes she nudged her nose with his, their gaze still looked before her eyes fluttered shut, breathing him in and relishing in the moment before his lips found hers.  

“What are you going to do about a dress?” Scott asked in a hushed tone, not wanting Chris to hear their conversation, closing the door to their bedroom behind him.  

The house was extremely busy downstairs with everyone completing last minute preparations so Scott and Y/n had snuck away for a quiet moment to get ready, knowing Y/n didn’t function when stressed. He could tell she wanted nothing more than to have Chris at her side, one didn’t move without the other.

But Scott demanded, as the self appointed best man/man of honour, that they be apart for the night before and the day of, still up-keeping some form of tradition.

Unknowingly to Scott, Chris had snuck back into their bedroom last night when everyone was asleep, not wanting to be away from one another with the excitement of the next day bubbling. 

Like children on Christmas Eve.  

The busyness of the day had helped keep them both distracted, not giving them much time to sneak off for a moment of privacy. 

“I bought something a few months ago, thinking ahead.” Y/n rummaged through her and Chris’s shared walk-in closet, plucking a black garment bag which was hidden at the very back.  

Unzipping the bag, Y/n revealed the white, embroidered, floor length cami wedding dress. Scott couldn’t contain his gasp as he softly took the dress in his hands, admiring it silently.  

“Where did you find this?” His eyes not leaving the dress, his fingers running over the patterns.

“ASOS,” she started. “I saw it on there and had to have it, I’m going to wear it with these...” Trailing off as she bent down to pick up her pair of all white, high-topped converses, now beaming from ear to ear.

“You’re joking right?”

“Heels aren’t me,” shrugging her shoulders she took the dress from Scott and disappeared into the en-suite to get ready.  

“What about rings?” Scott asked on the other side of the door, he was sitting on the edge of the bed go through the checklist he had created in his mind.

“I think Chris has that sorted.” Was all she replied too focused on not damaging the dress as she slipped it on carefully, not hearing when Scott said something about checking on the decorations and leaving. 

After ten minutes Y/n stepped out of the bathroom to show Scott, her hair now falling freely over her shoulders and the slightest bit of make-up, the dress hugged her figure perfectly as the flowed around her.  

“Wow.” Chris’s voice sounded, making her jump back behind the bathroom door, shutting it, hoping he didn’t see too much. “Baby, what’re you doing?” Walking over to the bathroom door, trying to push it open.

“I thought you were Scott. You’re not supposed to see me!” Y/n cried from behind the door.

“I don’t care, we’re getting married during a pandemic, in our back garden with less than twenty people... So, I think the traditions are out the window.” His hand still on the door knob, letting a breathy chuckle out. “C’mon gorgeous, I wanna see you.” He attempted to persuade her.

Slowly the door started to open to reveal Y/n stood there, holding either side of her dress as she twirled for Chris, giggling as she did.

Well fuck, the sight made Chris’s heart swell, his palms became sweaty as his eyes trailed over her, drinking in her appearance, his smile never leaving his lips.  

Y/n took the opportunity to take in her fiancé's appearance, he was currently in black dress pants, a white shirt tucked into his pants with the top few buttons undone, and a tie hanging around his neck, untied. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight, butterflies erupting in her stomach.

“Was gonna ask you to do my tie...” He choked out, his eyes now meeting hers.  

Without word she took a step forward and began fastening the last few buttons before making work of his tie, his hands found her hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs as he watched her intently.  

“You look...” He started, but was cut off by Y/n.

“Handsome, you look insanely handsome. I’m lucky you’re about to become my husband.” Her eyes still fixated on the tie, her tongue dragging across her bottom lip as she concentrated. Once satisfied her fingers smoothed out his collar and tie. “Now go, before Scott sees you in here. Anyone would think he’s the one getting married.” Both chuckling softly.  

With her command Chris didn’t move away, just one step closer to her, closing the gap between them, his hands now cupping her cheeks, both looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds before he dipped his head down to kiss her.  

This kiss wasn’t like all the others he had sneaked in the past twenty four hours, it was different.

Y/n’s mind casting back to the night Chris told her he loved her for the first time, the kiss matching that. It was filled with adoration, passion and love, making her stomach do flips and her heart hammer against her chest.  

“Go,” Y/n mumbled against his lips after a few seconds, pushing his abdomen. “I’ll see you down there handsome.” Giving her one last kiss before walking away, leaving her now by herself as she jumped up and down in their bathroom, the tiniest squeal leaving her lips.  

The next half an hour rushed by so quickly, now the pair were stood at the bottom of their garden in front of their families, their garden littered with fairy lights hung above them, their families stood watching proudly. 

It was simple and perfect, no fuss. 

Scott was ordaining the ceremony something Chris and Y/n weren’t aware he could do until last night. Too scared to know the reason why he decided to become an ordained minister, “you never know when you might need it” was all he said. 

“Y/n,” Chris started, his hands shaking a little. “I can’t imagine my life without you, since you came barging into it 22 years ago. From the very first day of filming back in 2011, I knew you were it for me, even if I didn’t know it.” That caused everyone to laugh, “I love how you’re always there by my side, how you always tie my tie... Even if I know how to do it myself.” Y/n gasped shocked at his admission, laughing along with everyone. “At first it was a tactic to be near you, but the look of concentration you have every time, drives me crazy.” He laughed as she shook her head, beaming from ear to ear. “You make me the happiest man alive every day, even when you’re beating my ass at guitar hero. I love how passionate and impatient you are... Today being an example of that.” Everyone laughed again, he reached for her cheek and wiped the tears away with his thumb. “I can’t believe I get to call you my wife... I love you.”

Y/n was speechless, wiping away the tears that continued to fall, it was like he’d winded her with his words, her body tingled with excitement and love as the feeling of becoming Mrs Evans drew closer.

“Chris,” she started. “You are one of the most amazing, crazy talented, men I’ve ever known, I’m in constant awe of what you’re capable of... Seriously, it's annoying... I will make it my life mission to find something you’re not good at.” Chris’s loud laughter now echoed over your families laughs, his hand falling to his chest. “Your laugh, is my favourite sound of yours and if I could play it on repeat I would, but I’ll just settle for making you laugh with my terribly bad dad jokes-”

“Oh no!” Chris groaned at her statement, making everyone laugh again.

“Our love consumes me, I knew from the moment Lizzie told me you liked me that I had to have you, no matter what. Everyone constantly tells me how intense our love is, but it wasn’t until someone described it perfectly to me that I understood,” Y/n took the opportunity to side eye Scott, recalling the night they had a very drunken conversation about her relationship with Chris, making Scott laugh. “We’re so in sync with one another, you move, I move, we could be in a room filled with people, on opposite ends and we would still find each other without looking. Being with you,” she had to stop to compose herself, not wanting to cry during her vows. “Is like living a dream come true, especially during the simple times, no plans, no noise, just us doing nothing.”

Chris didn’t hide his tears as they freely fell, the sniffles from everyone, including Robert could be heard now.

After a few more words from Scott, once he calmed down, the cheers erupted as their lips connected, their first kiss as husband and wife. Chris pulling her flush against him, deepening the kiss. “I got you, Mrs Evans.” He whispered against her lips, making her giggle.  

The rest of the night was spent with their families, basking in the events of the day as they ended the night with the fire pit lit, gathered around it. Y/n was still in her dress and converse clad feet, her hair now tied up as she sat on the floor in between her husband's legs. 

She was currently admiring her wedding band, it was rose gold, slim and had diamonds wrapped around it, fitting perfectly against her engagement ring. reaching for the hand that rested on her shoulder, now playing with his wedding band, his band was thick, black and had a thin, rose gold strip around the centre. 

Chris had purchased them the day he bought the engagement ring and had hidden them in his sock drawer in his bedside, his hiding spots were getting better. 

“I’m so happy for you guys.” Robert softly whispered, puling his daughter into his arms holding her tightly against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re married!” 

“I know... I have to live with a boy!” She quipped back and Robert’s body started to vibrate with laughter, her cheek resting on his should as they continued to hug, not wanting to let go.

“My baby...” Now cupping her cheeks, giving his daughter one last look of pride before letting go. “You’ve always been my favourite child.” He whispered, Y/n knew he was joking but she laughed in agreement anyway. Out of her other three siblings they both shared a close relationship, Y/n was his saving grace when he was younger, having her at a young age bonded them. 

“Chris, I can’t believe you’re my son now... How weird.” Chris smiles broadly at the term son, instead of son-in-law, he knew Robert classed him as part of the family and not because he had to. "Welcome to the family, legally.. Let’s face it you’ve always been apart of this family.” Sharing a quick embrace before slipping past the newlyweds to speak to Lisa.

“Do you want to dance?” Chris bent down to whisper in his wife's ear, his hands finding her hips and back pressed against his chest, only to have her hum in response. 

Guiding her to an open spot in the garden, taking his hand in hers and spinning her so she was now facing him. His large hands resting on her hips whilst her hands snaked around his waist, the music that played from the speakers in the house guiding them. “You’re my wife,” stating softly, his lips finding her forehead.

“That’s right Evans,” the nickname now sounding futile with both being Evans’. “You’re stuck with me, no getting out this.” Her index finger was pointing between them before wrapping back around his neck. 

“Never.” 

It was nearing 2am when Chris and Y/n climbed the stairs to their bedroom, once the click of their door shutting was heard she reached behind trying to unzip her dress but struggled due to her tired state, contemplating just sleeping her dress.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her husband as he guided the zip down slowly, leaving slow, wet kisses on shoulder, using his callous fingers to brush the straps of her dress off her shoulders, the dress pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her panties.  

“My wife, you’re stunning.” He said lowly, the only light in the room was the light of the moon streaming through the windows. Y/n turned to face him, starting to unbutton his shirt which was now untucked, tie long gone and the top two buttons already undone, his collar bones and tattoos poking out through his shirt.  

Pushing the shirt off of him, she traced his tattoos with her fingers, a hiss of pleasure escaping from his throat, making him tighten the grip on her hips she didn’t know he had.  

The C necklace glistening in the moonlight.

That’s how they stood for a few minutes, their eyes never breaking from one another, her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands on her hips.  

Y/n guided her new husband to their bed, the back of his legs hitting the edge and he sat down closely followed by her straddling him. “Mr Evans,” her voice laced with arousal. “I do believe, you’re wearing one too many items of clothing.” She tsked, her finger trailing down his abdomen, his muscles twitching when she did, effortlessly flicking the button of his pants open.  

“That can be fixed... Mrs Evans.” He purred in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.