#like your gas pipes

[theoverlordmisha]

This is a busy week... mnufc game earlier tonight (they won!), Zach Bryan concert tomorrow night, supervisor huddle on Thursday, Ed Sheeran on Saturday (and thankfully Nashville also won, so no overlapping mnufc game). Plus normal work, which I'm definitely falling behind on mostly because I hate voicemails with a heated passion. But also like, if I start to recognize your number cause you call me multiple times in one day you're going straight to voicemail. Sorry not sorry.

[ohnonotthehorrors]

I love blocking people with just… the Loudest and worst takes ever. It feels so vindicating. It’s like telling someone to ‘Go Touch Grass’ but you never even have to acknowledge or speak to them. <3

[bluesidez]

Can’t get Firefighter Miguel out of my head because of the Miggy discord.

content warning: nothing but fluff...for now 😗

word count: 1.3k, not proofread

Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Imagine you’re trying to get into baking or something and you’re not used to your oven AT ALL.

Cherry pies? Ruined.

Apple fritters? Apple crisps.

Chocolate chip cookies? Charcoal chip cookies.

Brownies? More like burnt brownie brittle.

Your process would be going so well until it was time to actually put your dessert in the oven and it was like your oven plotted against you.

You set the right temperatures. You pre-heated. You even placed things in the right part of the oven. How is it that everything goes wrong?

The only desserts that saw the light of day were the no-bake ones. You’re not sure how much more no-bake cheesecake you could take anymore.

The day that really sets it off is the day that you attempted to make a simple vanilla birthday cake. Your friend’s birthday was coming soon and you wanted to gift her one of those cute bento cakes.

Your icing is finished and delicious. You’ve been practicing the decorations all week and they were pretty cute! The cake just a few more minutes left to bake, then you could take it out to chill.

As you’re piping a bag of baby pink icing, you look up to see that the room is a little foggy. You turn in a panic and notice puffs creeping from the oven.

“No, no, no!!!” you cry as you turn to open it.

You can’t do anything but cough as a ton of smoke hits you in the face.

Your cake on fire. Orange and yellow light illuminating the oven.

You panic as the fire seems to grow brighter once it hits the air.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

Where was your fire extinguisher? You tried fanning at fire with a towel, but to no avail. You couldn’t even get to the knobs to switch the oven off.

You step back, terrified. You felt like sobbing watching the flames take over. Why aren’t the sprinklers on?

By the time you run out of your house, the fire alarm decides it can sing its tune. You call 911 with a shaky voice, hoping they can get here faster than your alarm decided to make itself known.

You stand outside peeking through your eyes as you could see the flames grow near your kitchen window.

Thankfully the firetruck makes it in time, the firefighters working quick to get inside.

One of them asks is anyone else inside and you shake your head no, thankful that it was just you.

It doesn’t take long for them to put it out and come back outside.

“Are you ok?,” one of them comes to ask you. You look up to this tall, dark, and handsome man. He’s sweating a bit obviously from the summer heat and the fire as he takes his helmet off. His hair is curly and dripping. You ogle him a bit, watching his chest move up and down.

“Do we need to call you an ambulance?” he says, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Oh! No! So sorry, I’m still a little…winded from everything,” you say, embarrassed.

“Ok, well as long as you’re fine. Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” he asks.

You cast your eyes down. Here was such a fine man standing before you and you had on pajamas and a frilly maid apron with flour splattered on top.

“I was trying to make a birthday cake. As we can see, it completely failed,” you reply. “I don’t know what happened. I followed every instruction. The oven was set at 350 degrees.”

He tilted his head at you as you whined away.

“Is this the first time that something like this has happen?”

You shake your head no, “This is the 3rd burnt dessert in a week.”

“Hm. Well I’ll have the crew here check it out.”

An hour and some change later, one of the firefighters tells you and the tall glass of water, who learn is a captain named Miguel, that you have a damaged gas line.

“You’re really lucky that you were only getting blackened sugar. One more cake and that could have been the end,” Miguel says to you with hand on his hip and another on your shoulder. “And also, never open the oven if there’s a fire. If this happens again, turn the oven off and wait until it dies down.”

You felt your head nodding, heart beating at how awkward everything felt.

Miguel looked down at you again, “Do you have anywhere you can stay over night? Or until I can get someone up here to get this gas fixed?”

“My grandma lives a couple of streets down,” you say, cheeks heated at his intense eye contact.

“Tell you what, how about you settle there for the night and I’ll come back personally to help you grab your belongings tomorrow morning?”

“That would be amazing! Thank you so much. I’m sorry for all of this,” you gesture to your house.

“It happens. Nothing you did here was your fault. Besides, I’m the captain. Fighting fires is what I do. Now, how about a ride in the truck to your grandma’s?”

You feel giddy when he practically pulls you in the truck. No seats are left so you have to settle for sitting on Miguel’s lap, heartbeat racing.

The other firefighters try to hide their smirks and snickers watching their captain hold you so softly in his arms. One big bump in the road has you clinging to him to not fall off.

You straighten back up, embarrassed by the little slip. Miguel chuckles at your actions.

You pretend not to hear their wolf whistles as he guides you to your grandma’s front door.

Miguel knocks firmly, waiting with you until she opens it.

She’s about to fuss at you for not stopping by sooner until she looks up at Miguel.

“And who is this?” she says, a bit shocked.

“My name is Captain O’Hara. I just wanted to drop your grandbaby off. Had a little baking accident.”

Your grandma listens to Miguel as he explains the situation calmly and professionally. It doesn’t stop her from fussing over you, grabbing and turning you to check for any damage.

“I’m ok grandma. I just have to stay here while my gas gets fixed.”

She thanks Miguel profusely, “Son, what’s your favorite food? I’ll have it made and sent down there for you.”

Miguel laughs heartily. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to answer that until he beats you to it.

“Whatever your specialty is, I’ll take it,” he says with a sweet smile on his face and holding your grandma’s hands.

“Cap! We gotta another fire at the college dorms. Someone burnt noodles in the microwave again,” a firefighter yells from truck.

“Well if you all can excuse me, duty calls!” he says and runs back to the truck.

“I can’t believe you burnt a cake! Haven’t I taught you better? And you know you’re making him that food, right?” your grandma says as you step inside.

“Grandma,” you say, affronted. “It was the oven, not me! And he might not want to even eat what I make after this.”

“Hmph,” she says, with a click of her tongue. “Well, you better get ready to use this kitchen here. You need that man as a husband.”

“Grandma.”

“I have some ham hocks in the freezer, some turnip and mustard greens. I think the church sent me some potatoes. We need to go to the store too. You gotta get him through his stomach.”

“Grandma!”

There was a silence as you and your grandma stared at each other.

“So are you thinking pork chops or catfish to go with the side dishes?” she said, grabbing a pencil and an empty envelope.

You just groaned and crumpled in your chair.

divider by: @benkeibear ❤️‍🔥

the grandma convo is heavily inspired by my own grandma lol. tagging @miguelhugger2099 @kit-and-wolfe @huniedeux @ugh-ok-fiyn because I want y’all to see this 😗

[strawbvrriluv]

can u do a fic where reader goes on a road trip with the triplets and thier parents but there’s no room for reader in the car so she has to sit on matts lap and he gets turned on so they sneakily have sex

Road Trips … Am I right?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʀᴏᴀᴅ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀɴᴛꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴄᴜꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ (ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ)

꧁༺ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ༻꧂

Y/n POV

I heard a honk outside of my house as I walked out and saw the Sturniolo’s car. I waved and walked to behind the car opening the trunk and putting my luggage with everyone else’s.

I closed the door and opened the back seat to be greeting with the triplets in the back seat…

“Oh sorry I forgot to tell you our parents decided to come as well and we took one car. You have to sit on Matt’s lap if that’s okay?”

Nick my best friend told me smiling sheepishly as I furrowed my brows about to speak.

“It’s fine”

Matt said giving me a look of annoyance as I huffed and glared at Matt before smiling at Nick. I entered the car and sat down on Matt’s lap.

I gave a smile to Mr and Mrs Sturniolo, “So Nick tells us you want to get into vlogging and all that stuff they’re doing as well?”

Mr. Jimmy asked looking at me through the mirror as I nodded.

“Yeah, I have loved filming since I was younger and now that I’m an adult I want to explore different kinds of things. Of course, I still have my regular job.”

Mr.Jimmy nodded as Mrs.Marylou piped in.

“Should we get some snacks before we leave the area?”

Chris immediately nodded his head, “Yes we should”.

I smiled at Chris’s enthusiasm as Nick rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Matt on the other hand was dead silent. I mean it’s normal for him, but this was different. He was like a ghost.

“Matt you okay?”

Chris asked him as he sat in the middle seat.

“Yea. Just tired.”

He replied his hands moving onto my lap fidgeting with his rings as we hit a bump.

I kind of slammed down on his lap as he gasped a bit. I slid down a bit so I moved more onto his lap feeling something hard.

“Matt is your phone on your lap?”

I whispered looking back at him as his face got a shade of pink.

“That’s not my phone idiot”

He whispered back into my ear as the look of confusion on my face dropped into an embarrassed one.

“Oh”

Was all I said before turning back around and going onto my phone to play subway surfers to try and ignore Matt.

Matt sighed deeply into my shoulder as he grabbed my hips pulling them in closer to his own. I widened my eyes opening my messages and texting Matt.

Matt put his phone down as his hand slid onto my thigh squeezing it softly as he yawned.

“Yo Chris hand me the blanket I wanna get some sleep and Y/n’s practically freezing”

Matt lied yawning after the sentence again as Chris gave him a blanket. He put it on the both of us because it was the only way for him to also be covered.

As soon as it covered my body his hand rode down into my skirt and down to my panties. He pressed two fingers on my clit through the fabric as I pressed my thighs together.

His hand moved upwards and into my panties as his middle finger and ring finger slid in between my folds touching my now aching clit. He rubbed circles softly as he rested his head on my shoulder his body grinding into my softly.

Since we were in a moving car it wasn’t obvious what was going on. Thank god.

He picked up the speed of the rubbing as I leaned more into him trying everything to not make a sound.

“Fuck”

He whispered in my ear as another bump in the road caused me to slam onto his lap. I closed my eyes and laid back on Matt like I was going to try and sleep. I felt Matt move his fingers out of my skirt and onto my hips as he rocked me back and forth agaisnt him.

The friction of our clothes building up as he stopped as his dad turned into an empty gas station.

He parked the car as he looked at the Triplet’s, “I would say let’s all go but Y/n is sleeping so everyone else but Matt come on.”

“Yknow what I want right?”

Matt asked Chris as he nodded, everyone left the car leaving us alone. I opened my eyes as Matt shook me.

“Turn around”

I moved around so I was facing him as he kissed me harshly. I kissed him back my hands going into his hair as his hands went under my skirt moving my shorts to the side. He undid the ties of his sweatpants pulling it down just enough for his dick to spring out.

“Oh god”

I said almost drooling at the sight of his dick, it was … Just big enough to stretch me out but not hurt me.

My right hand went down in between us as I jerked hi off a few times.

“Don’t tease me. Hurry up before they get back.”

I nodded and positioned myself ontop of him as he moved his dick back and forth collecting my wetness before he slammed me down.

“AH”

I screamed into his shoulder, I clenched as Matt didn’t wait for me to get used to his size. He began fucking me from under the only sounds in the car being me moaning and whining and the sounds of my wetness.

“Mmm.. Oh fuck yeah. Just like that baby. Take me like that. Your sweet sweet pussy is so good for me. I wanna fuck you until you can’t walk”

Matt groaned as I began moving up and down on his dick as well.

“You fill me up so well”

I said as he kissed me, his hands cupping my ass as he picked up the speed.

“I’m going to fucking cum.. Please let me cum inside that tight little pussy of yours”

Matt groaned his head falling back as I nodded frantically.

“Please please please”

I cried feeling my climax coming. My head fell down into your shoulder as I felt my body tremble. I clenched around him as he moaned loudly.

“Fuck.. I’m cumming.. I’m-“

I felt his hot liquid shot inside me as he slowed his pace down. He grabbed my jaw as he moved my face up to meet his.

He kissed me softly before pulling out.

“You felt so fucking good”

Matt muttered as he turned me around fixing his belt and my skirt. I rested my head on his shoulder as I tried to calm down my breath.

Nick would KILL me if he found out I just had sex with his twin in public.

“Your hearts beating so fast Y/n holy shit calm down”

Matt joked his hand on my chest as I rolled my eyes.

“Fuck you”

“I already did sweetheart”

Matt replied chuckling a bit.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for the ride (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Personally this one is the worst one of the four. Also I didn't expect this to be this long. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Did Soap enjoy being a little shit? Most of the time. But when it involved hurting you, even disguised as Price’s doing, he couldn’t find any joy in it. He may have successfully ruined Price in your eyes but at what cost?

He knew that you would only take so much of this. He wasn’t stupid. You will snap one day and all of their efforts to keep you will end up being futile. But some sick part of him hoped that you liked them enough to stay. That’ll you’ll hold out as much as they have so far.

And if you hold out long enough, maybe, just maybe, Soap can outlast the others. It’s only a matter of time before the others get over their little crush. Right?

But until then, he’ll be waiting. He’ll keep his distance but he’ll come as soon as you start calling.

Like now, as his phone lights up with your name. It’s Friday morning and he’s currently spotting Gaz on the bench press when his phone starts to ring. His heart jumps when he sees your name. He swipes his phone and answers it.

“Sergeant MacTavish,” he says. He cringes at his words.

“Sergeant,” you start. He could cry. He’s not just your sergeant, he’s Johnny, your Johnny-boy. “I am so sorry to bother you so early but I didn’t know who else to call.” He could tell from the tone of your voice that you were in trouble. He turns around to avoid Kyle from overhearing.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay, but... I... I'm on my way to base, but my car just broke down. I'd walk but I won't make it on time to today's meeting if I do. Is there anyway you can pick me up? I'll pay for gas and your time. Again, I am so sorry for bother--"

"It's not a bother. I'll be there in 10." He hangs up the phone before you can say anything else. Soap was truly God's favorite. Despite everything, you still called him. And like always, he'll answer.

"Everything good there, buddy?" pipes up Gaz.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Uh... just one of the techs," Soap explains. He grabs his bag and tells Gaz he has to go... "bomb emergency." He leaves and rushes to his room. He zips through his room, trying to change into something less sweaty. He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing.

Was he nervous?

Of course he was nervous.

This would be the first time in over a month that you called him for something that didn't involve a mission. There would be no Ghost, no Price, no Gaz to get in his way. He sprays some perfume that you had gotten him for his birthday, grabs his keys, and runs out of his room.

It's just a straight shot - straight down the hall and to the parking lot. Should be easy?

Wrong.

Waiting for him at the door was his fellow sergeant, Kyle Gaz Garrick.

"Where you going there, buddy? Isn't techs on the other side of the base?" He stands up straight, staring the Scotsman down.

Soap does the same. One way or another, he was going to give you that ride. "It is, but it'll be faster if I drive there. So if you can move, you'd make my day." He tries to side-step Gaz, but Gaz stay still. "Move!" Soap tries to push his teammate. Kyle pushes back, pinning him up against the wall, his arm over his neck.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Mate, your brightness and volume were all the way up ," he scoffs. "You really think I'm going to let you be the hero here."

"Get off!" Soap roars. He shoves Kyle back and punches him in the gut, forcing the sergeant to fall to his knees. However, it does nothing to stop him as Kyle lunges at the Scotsman, forcing him on the floor. They tussle for a bit before two pairs of arms pull the sergeants off from one another.

"What the hell is going on here?" commands Price. He has Soap in his grip while Ghost grabs Gaz.

"Soap here is trying to see them without us," Gaz spits out. Soap feels Price's hold on him tighten. Soap tries to explain himself. How you had called HIM for a ride and he was just trying to be a good teammate.

Price lets out an empty laugh. "Just like how I was trying to help with lunch." Fuck. Soap knew that was going to bite him in the ass, but he didn't think so soon. Ghost lets Gaz go. Gaz walks towards Soap and snatches the keys from his hands.

Soap tries to stop him, but it's no use, Price isn't budging.

And you of course don't know that all of this is going back on base. You're stuck in your car, waiting for Soap to come pick you up. You weren't happy that you called him, but you really had no choice. The bus had already passed, you didn't have enough time to walk, and it looked like it was going to rain. Besides, Soap said it wasn't a bother.

15 minutes have passed and you were starting to get antsy. The meeting was going to start soon and Soap still hadn't come by. You decide to text him... worst case, he's driving and can't answer.

You: Hey! Sorry to bother, but are you close? Again thank you so much for the ride

You put your phone down and look out the window.

Buzz, buzz.

Johnny-boy: Something came up. Sorry.

No fucking way. You could cry right now. And not even out of disappointment, but out of anger. You don't even bother to answer. You turn off your phone and jump out of your car. At this point, it didn't even matter. You were going to be late either way. What's the point of giving them a heads up?

And to your luck, it starts to rain... hard. Could your day get any worse? Fuck, your month, really? Whatever you did, there's no way it was that bad to deserve all of this.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the racing car blasting rock music behind you.

Back on base, Soap is close to just dying in his seat. The 141 are all in the conference room, waiting for your arrival. Gaz and Price are in their seats while Ghost blocks the door. He can see his phone in his Lieutenant's pocket.

Soap begs him to let him go. It's pouring out there and knowing how stubborn you could be, you're probably walking in this weather.

Price shoots him a pointed look. "You really think I'd let them walk in this rain. I already sent some rookies to pick them up." And on cue, his phone rings. "Look, it's the rookies."

Price answers the phone. But instead, of keeping his neutral face, he just frowns. "What do you mean they're not there?" Soap's blood runs cold. Price argues with the rookies for a bit until he hangs up. The room tenses. Everyone looks at Price with baited breath. They all assume the worst. But before anyone can even suggest it, the door opens.

"141! My favorite team! How are... what's with the long faces?" The men all pause. They all had forgotten that Nikolai was going to help them on this next op.

"Nik, not the time," Price grumbles out. All of the men agree. Right now, you were missing and it was all their fault.

Nik gets serious and takes a seat. He assures them that things will work out. Once you finish changing, you can all brainstorm and find a solution.

Once you finish changing?

Soap makes the connection first. He asks Nik if you were on base.

"Da. Found them on my way here." Soap could just cry out of joy. You were okay. You were alive.

His joy is cut short when you come in. You don't say anything. You take your seat at the end of the table.

You look at all of them with indifference, with apathy. "Let's get started."

Soap calls your name. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to talk to you.

You glare at him. "Sergeant MacTavish, we've wasted enough time today. Let's just do our job," you spit out. You reel in your anger. You were done with Soap, with this team, with everyone.

Soap sinks in his seat. He didn't think you were capable of hatred.

Word Count: 1450

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[homunculus-argument]

I wonder how much the "people who live alone die earlier" statistic is influenced by just having two people go "hold on, we can't both be unreasonable at the same time for no reason". If you're living with someone else and you're feeling irritable and deranged for no reason and hate everything, and someone else you're living with is also feeling irritable and deranged for no reason and hates everything, you might go "now hold on, are the gas pipes leaking?" and go check on shit like air filters and see if there's lead in your water or something, because two people being off the same way is a clear indicator of something.

While when you're living by yourself, there's nobody else around feeling any kind of way, so you're just sitting there seething, having come to the conclusion that this is simply how it feels like to be alive.

[fishbonex]

And would you go ahead and just cry? 3/3

Jinx × fem!reader | Caitlyn x sister!reader

Summary: Every action has a reaction.

Word Count: 2,9K

Warning: typical canon violence, mention of mental illness, arguments, gunshots, bombs, mourning.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

This contains spoilers for Arcane S2.

< previous chapter

You would laugh at your thoughts if you weren't so nervous. Caitlyn grew up with you and convinced herself that you would give in and remain quiet while she descended on her mournful quest to Zaun?

Crossing to the other side of the bridge was harder this time, since your sister had indeed left the city full of Enforcers more alert than ever. You wrinkled your nose as you slid down the sewer pipe you found along the way, not knowing where it led to the Undercity.

The golden mask did its job of keeping the toxic air from coming into contact with your airways, but it was unsettling to have that on your face. You sighed in relief when you saw the familiar contours of Zaun as you carefully slid down a pipe.

You saw the Grey before you even set foot on the dirty floor of the alley, the green traces of the toxic gas spread everywhere, which was now deserted. Sneaking around, you managed to find them with great difficulty.

The air was sucked from your lungs as you finished climbing the stairs of the abandoned temple, seeing the scene before you: Caitlyn with the rifle pointed firmly forward, in the direction of Jinx, who was lying on the stone table. A little girl tightly clinging to her. Vi straddling them, her gauntlet raised.

Running quickly, you approached the scene, passing by Sevika lying on the ground. Maybe if you had been faster, the bullet wouldn't have hit you the moment you stood in front of your older sister. You heard Jinx shouting something behind you, almost pleading.

Letting out a soft groan, yo u paid little attention to your left shoulder, which was gradually beginning to bleed. Raising your right hand, you grabbed the barrel of the rifle, lowering it. Caitlyn looked at you with slightly wide eyes, breathing heavily.

"What are you...? How did you get here?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Cait, please." you spoke less firmly than you intended, pain flaring in your shoulder. "Stop it, please."

You could see the pain flaring in her eyes, her gaze flickering between you and the people behind you.

"Get out of the way." she pulled the rifle barrel out of your hand. "Get out!"

"Let's go home, please." you pleaded.

Caitlyn didn't lower the gun, you heard footsteps approaching and soon Vi was at your side, her hands raised.

"Cait, stop it," she pleaded. "There's a child there."

You took the cue and looked back, seeing Jinx with her eyes fixed on you. Her pink irises were looking at you sadly, a few tears had fallen on her pale face. She was holding the little girl, who was clinging to her, tightly. You nodded subtly, hoping she would sense what you meant. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Everything will be okay.

You turned to face forward when you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder, making you groan and bring your hand to the wound. Thick blood stained your hand, causing you to breathe heavily. Caitlyn stared at your actions for a moment, before masking her emotions and staring coldly ahead.

She gripped the rifle angrily, her finger on the trigger. You frowned. She was going to shoot again, but it was Vi who was in front of the gun now, not you. You held your breath and closed your eyes as she pulled the trigger.

Silence reigned over the place for a while, only the sound of heavy breathing was present. Opening your eyes, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the barrel of Caitlyn's rifle crushed by Vi's gauntlets, who were holding the gun down.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sevika stagger to her feet and walk over to one of the walls, feeling around until she found something and activated a mechanism.

"No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this!" you heard Jinx exclaim before Janna's giant mural shattered and a large amount of furious wind began to pour out of it.

You barely had time to register anything else before you were violently pushed by the wind, which was mixed with Grey. You were thrown away from the room, groaning as your injured shoulder hit a rusty pipe, where you held on. You saw Vi doing the same, a few feet below you, with Caitlyn holding her hand tightly.

You fell hard as the wind stopped, your vision going black for a moment as your injured shoulder hit the ground. Vi and Caitlyn's blurred voices were close to you, altered. They were arguing about something.The sound of a thud was heard, followed by a groan and a low cry. You groaned and tried to get up, hearing the footsteps of heavy boots approaching, soon feeling Caitlyn's slender arms around you, pulling you up cautiously.

When Caitlyn wrapped her arms around you and your vision cleared, you saw Violet lying on the floor, her hand on her stomach. She was the one crying. Caitlyn guided you up a flight of stairs, supporting your body with hers. As you climbed, she didn’t look back.

The bullet wound in your left shoulder had been stitched up and was healing. The same couldn’t be said for your relationship with your sister. Caitlyn seemed more and more distant and you were no different. The silence in the mansion was deafening.

Caitlyn seemed like a different person now. Spending more and more time with General Medarda, sleeping with one of the officers who was on her staff. It seemed like self-destruction, from your point of view.

And you... well, siblings are each other's mirror images. You were in a bad way, too. Spending most of your days in your room or in the laboratory in one of the mansion's poorly frequented corridors.

You loved working on your projects, but what little excitement was crushed when you automatically thought of Jinx while working. 'Jinx would think this is cool, Jinx would like to see this, Jinx could help me solve this.'

At least she was okay. The injury to you shoulder had been worth it.

Sighing, you leaned back over your desk, looking at the notes you were making, you had barely started writing again when the heavy door opened. Lifting your head in slight irritation at being interrupted, you frowned even more when you saw Caitlyn standing there, in her uniform.

"I didn't find you in your room, I thought you would be here." she spoke softly, looking a little embarrassed.

"A while ago, a certain commander threatened to arrest me because I didn't wait for permission to enter her room." you said softly, looking back at your notes. She laughed softly and you made a satisfied expression. "What are you looking for me for?"

She crossed the room in soft steps and leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest, sighing softly. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's... fine? It's healing." you raised an eyebrow. "But you came here to ask that?"

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, bringing a hand up to rub the crease that had formed on her forehead.

"I need... I need to ask you a favor." she turned to you. "Before you curse at me or fight with me, I need you to hear me."

You looked at her expectantly, your eyes widening and your eyebrows raised again.

"I want you to come with me and Ambessa, to get something and someone," she continued, encouraged by your silence. "We have a suspicion that something we're looking for is in the fissures."

"And what does that have to do with me?" you asked.

"Besides what we're looking for, let's take the opportunity to try to locate Jinx." you opened your mouth to protest and she held up her hands asking for patience. "Let me explain."

"I thought you had already forgotten about that." you closed your expression.

"I asked you to pay attention." she snorted.

"Did you come here to ask me to help you hunt her? Have you lost your mind?" you raised your voice, standing up from your chair.

"We're not going to hunt anyone down, I just want her to pay for her crimes." she walked over to you. "That's the logical thing to do. Are you so blinded by her that you can't think rationally?"

"Don't start that again! I know she should pay for her crimes, but we both know what will happen to her if she goes to jail. The sentence won't be fair, they'll want to punish her for crimes she doesn't even remember committing, Caitlyn." you said, feeling your chest hurt.

"These crimes don't cease to exist because she doesn't remember," she nearly growled. "She killed our mother."

"I know!" you yelled, turning your angry face towards her. "You don't need to remind me of that again."

"And you forgave her," she grumbled, her face twisted in anger.

Sighing, you shook your head. "This isn't going anywhere."

"Not if you don't trust me." she approached with soft steps, placing her hand on his good shoulder. "I don't want to fight anymore, I didn't come here to fight."

"I can't do this to her. She needs help, not to be trapped for the rest of her life." your voice trembled.

“She’ll get help, and she’ll be sentenced to the equivalent of her crimes.” Caitlyn’s voice softened, her tender gaze directed at you. “You’ll be able to see her whenever you want.”

"She'll never forgive me." you replied, staring into her eyes with pain. "You don't understand."

"If we testify on her behalf, she won't be in jail for as long." she reached out to caress the side of your face. "I know how you feel."

You pulled away from her touch and crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. “You have no idea.”

Looking up at the large iron gates inlaid with your family crest, you realized. Caitlyn would never stop. She wouldn’t give up on going after Jinx. The pain in your shoulder returned, making you clench one of your fists.

"No one's going to hurt her, right?" you turned to Caitlyn. "If you promise me no one will touch her, I'll help you."

"I just want her arrested, that's all." she replied.

You knew you would quickly find her among the residents of Viktor's community, her blue hair made her stand out. Your face lit up when you saw her long braids in the distance, she was sitting on a rock with the same little girl from before.

Walking at a fast pace, you barely had time to speak before the little girl pointed at you.

"Boo!" you jumped in front of Jinx.

Her big eyes widened as she stood up and spat the grass she had been chewing onto the ground. The shocked expression only lasted a few seconds and soon she was clinging to you, only to pull away again and look you in the eye.

"You're okay." she said, her eyes darting to look at you fully.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" you joked. "I'm with you."

"Last time I saw you, you'd been shot." she assumed a playful expression. "My hero!" she stood on one leg and threw herself at you, waving dramatically.

You were going to answer, but the quiet little girl started jumping excitedly at what Jinx said, you smiled slightly and pushed Jinx so she would let go of you.

"Is this yours?" you gestured.

"This is Isha." she walked over to the little girl, bending down and pushing the large helmet she wore on her head. "Surprise! Now we're both her big sisters."

"Oh? She just chose us to take care of her?" you held out your hand to Isha, who took it and you shook it quickly, making her laugh. "Poor her."

Jinx laughed and stood up, wrapping one of her thin arms around your shoulder and starting walking, looking back to see Isha continuing to play.

"You know, I... missed you." her slightly hoarse voice expressed sincerity. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

You turned your face to face her: "You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"How lucky I am." she spoke again with the same playful tone as always, climbing onto one of the metal structures, extending her hand to help you climb up as well. "How did you find me?"

Your stomach sank and you quickly covered it up. “I always know where you are.”

She let out another giggle and lay down, pulling your arm so you could lie down next to her, your legs dangling over the edge. Just like they did on the giant propellers in her hideout. Staring at nothing in particular, you let out an amused snort as she lifted her left hand, showing you the contraption that was now replacing her middle finger.

"What happened to your finger?" you asked.

"Your lovely sister Lieutenant Colonel shot my hand." she sighed, lowering her hand again.

"She's a commander, actually." you corrected. "She never misses a shot."

"So she just wanted to tear off one of my fingers? Cool." she laughed hoarsely. So, do you want to see my dad?"

"Your dad?" you frowned, remembering what happened with Silco. "I thought your dad-"

"Look." she sat down and pointed to one of the rooms, which had a glass roof.

Your breath caught when you saw it. The thing Ambessa wanted, the beast she hunted with determination, was lying there, sleeping peacefully.

"Is that thing your father?" you asked without realizing it, and felt Jinx playfully elbow you in the ribs.

"Hey, he has a name, and it's not 'thing.'" she said softly. "It's Vander. We came here to heal him."

You didn't respond to her explanations, instead you changed the subject and she started babbling again. Everything seemed normal again. Everything seemed fine when you were with her, listening to her babble about whatever it was. At one point, Isha came to you, carrying fruits and other things.

"Here, eat!" Jinx pushed one of the fruits into your hand as she bit into one herself, revealing the juicy, blue insides. "I've already eaten a lot," she said with her mouth full.

You bit into the plump fruit, feeling it fill your mouth. Jinx turned around and started fiddling with what Isha had brought for her, making you frown. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring weapons in here.”

"Do you think I would walk around unarmed?" she scoffed, slinging the pistol at her hip.

You just sighed, looking back forward, your face contorting in confusion when you saw Caitlyn with that horrible doctor, standing next to Jinx's father.

"What is he doing here?" you heard Jinx's stern voice beside you and turned your head to look at her, seeing her glare at the man.

"Jinx, I need-"

You didn't have time to finish. It all happened very quickly.

Jinx jumped from the roof to help Caitlyn when she stopped the doctor from injecting something into Vander. Ambessa's warrior went after the two, but you couldn't help, seeing Isha looking around without knowing what to do.

You grabbed her hand and climbed down from where you were sitting, looking around for help. You didn't remember when Isha let go of your hand. Ambessa's warriors were everywhere, Vander looked savage now, you didn't have any weapons in your hand. Caitlyn suddenly appeared, with Vi beside her.

You managed to defend yourself from one of the soldiers, picking up his spear from the ground, but it didn't last long when you were pushed and it fell from your hand. As you stood up, you heard Jinx's scream and looked around desperately to try to find her. Then you saw Isha, with her little hands around the pistol, pointing it at the sky. With a gasp of terror, you witnessed the flash of the explosion illuminate the sky. And your vision went black.

War is deafening. Your ears rang all the time with the sound of gunshots, metal chains and death. The smell was also strong. You stood firm at the post where Caitlyn had asked you to stay, hidden, with the scope of your rifle helping you see in the distance.

You fired every now and then when you saw someone approaching the team that was taking your bomb to the giant anomaly that was pulling Viktor's cocoon through the destroyed streets. You were sure it would work. The bomb would explode as soon as the needle reached the end.

You had to run away from where you were when Ambessa signaled for someone to shoot you. Running almost aimlessly through the streets, you stopped when you heard a familiar sound in the sky.

The few minutes Jinx spent firing at the Noxian forces filled your body with hope. But that was all crushed when the airship crashed into the Hexgate tower. And you knew nothing was going to be okay when you saw the familiar explosion of the monkey bomb as you entered the place.

Your scream must have been loud and painful, but you weren't sure. The pain numbed you and you couldn't hear anything else.

You didn't know how much time had passed since the incident. Your pastime now was sitting on the roof, with your legs dangling over the edge. The destroyed head of the monkey bomb was a comfort, in a way. You placed it on your lap and pulled the small piece of white paper and the lighter from your pocket, placing the flame on one end of the paper and releasing it into the air.

What were you going to do now? She never taught you to forget her.

With a shaky sigh, you squeezed the rest of the monkey bomb and closed your eyes.

"Why are you holding that old thing?" a husky, playful voice asked behind you.

Eyes wide, you turned to look.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That One Friend…

Twisted Wonderland: Trey Clover, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Kalim Al Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Idia Shroud, Lilia Vanrouge, 

JJK: Suguru Geto, Megumi Fushigiro, Mei Mei

Demon Slayer: Douma, Shinobu Kocho, Giyuu Tomioka, Tanjiro Kamado

Obey Me: Satan, Asmodeus, Simeon, Solomon, Barbatos

Hunter X Hunter: Hisoka Morrow, Chrollo Lucilfer, Shalnark, Shaiapouf, 

OCs: Rhiana(Witch), Wille (Elite Serial Killer), Fantasy Villain

There’s always That One Friend who you pass by in the market across the street or at the cafe you frequent before work. This one friend is always sweet–a kind soul you can trust for some intelligent conversation or to sit in silence with. 

Whether you’re married with kids or dating your long-term partner something in you tends to wander. Your mind drifts to That One Friend who you know would have picked up on your silence. They would have reached over the table to hold your hand as they demanded you tell them what was wrong–letting their worried eyes never leave yours as they searched the troubled depths of your own. 

There’s just something about That One Friend who has you daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with them instead. A dark sliver of you that entertains the idea of straying from where you're trapped but you’ll shoot that down…eventually. While you’re certain you love That One Friend you do love your significant other even if they stopped saying ‘I love you.’ It would be wrong to betray them for That One Friend—who can verbally assure you that they care. Who makes an effort to tell you how much they care about you daily. Besides it’d be wrong to base a betrayal on only a side of That One Friend. 

For all you know, they could be just being a good friend–showing a side of themself that you need. Besides they have their business or another partner or their long distance relationship so even if you were brave enough to confess your little crush to that dear One Friend it would never work out. 

So when it’s finally decided that you’ll shut down these invasive feelings put more time in improving your current relationship. You’ll limit yourself from That One Friend if only to get it into your brain that they’re just not an option. Diving into work, trying with your partner, spending more time with your kids, or just visiting a different place for lunch. You’ll make an excuse when That One Friend starts catching on and hope that they don’t take offense. Finding a steady routine that no longer relies on That One Friend. 

But that all goes to shambles when something terrible happens to your significant other. A car crash, leaking gas pipe, or a mysterious drive-by shooting—they’re gone. Your world–as dysfunctional as it already was—comes crashing down. Since you can’t fall because of your kids or because you worry you’ll never begin to bring yourself up again you have no choice but to rely on That One Friend. 

That One Friend who is at your apartment the second they’ve learned what’s happened. That One Friend who comes along with you to the police station when you promise that there’s foul play. That One Friend who cooks and cleans when you just don’t feel like moving. That One Friend who will even invite you, your kids, or your pets into their home so they can look after you because they are just so worried.

That One Friend who licks their lips as they watch you curl into their bed wearing the hoodie they let you borrow. That One Friend who invites your kids to call them something closer than their first name. That One Friend who reminds you to eat while you obsess over your significant other’s case. That One Friend who encourages you to cuddle with them since you’ve been having so much trouble sleeping. 

That One Friend who has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get them back on your market. That One Friend who is like a predator lying in wait as it becomes years before you start wanting to date again. That One Friend who will make sure they’re narrowly injured on a train accident so that their emergency contact–you comes running and kisses their forehead because you were so scared. That One Friend who knows it’ll be a matter of time before you accept or propose yourself. 

That One Friend who can’t help but relish in the way you’re attention and love belong to them. 

And That One Friend will do anything to make that happen.

[shotmrmiller]

Toni... Blue collar worker simon....

i'm thinking of a plumber simon who doesn't (but can, obviously) fix toilets and whatnot. no, he usually installs plumbing systems in homes that are currently being built and he can do gas pipes too.

simon owning a van that has a bunch of long PVC pipes on top is making my head spin for no reason.

anyway, he gets up real early in the morning, depending on how far the job is he could be up as early as 4 am, packs his cooler for lunch which consists of sandwiches, a can or two of soda, two water bottles and a bag of spicy sunflower seeds. his lunch is shit because a lady tend to pass by in her food truck to sell the guys a proper lunch (they taste like simple home cooked meals) and its relatively cheap.

he buys lunch more often than not because of you, the lady's daughter and you're the prettiest little finch he's ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

you're a shy thing too, mumbling back a hello when he tosses you a greeting while waiting for his lunch to be warmed up. he likes when your eyebrow twitches every time he waits until the last possible second to ask for a drink to wash down his food.

a pest, truly.

(if only you'd give him a chance, you wouldn't have to be in that truck slaving away in the heat when he could keep you nice and comfortable at home with the ac as low as you like)

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: Part two for you lovelies! I don't have much to say other than I am already working on part 3 and writing lewis as a bit of an ass is quite fun! As always ignore the fact that I cannot keep a tense for the life of me, Im grateful you guys seem to love me anyways lmao.

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

Your room is freezing when you wake in the morning, the room eerily silent. You groan, rolling over to grab your phone while trying to keep as much of the comforter over you as possible.

“Fuck.” You mumble to yourself when you see that your phone hasn’t been charging all night, despite being plugged in.

You sit up, looking around the room, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside your bed, nothing. You evidently lost power overnight. You're surprised that in a house this lush there isn’t already a generator going but you suppose someone needs to start it, or it only powers certain things. One thing you know for certain is your room is freezing. You make your way out of bed and over to the fireplace in your room, hoping there is wood nearby to warm you up. You can’t help but let out another groan when you see the electric starter on the gas fireplace, no use if the power is out. You decide to go see if the rest of the house is a little warmer, or if you can at least be miserable with someone else. You rummage through your suitcase to find a warmer set of pajamas, settling on a thick pair of flannels that have kept you warm for nearly a decade. Once you've changed you grab the throw blanket off the back of the nearby chair, wrapping it around you like a cape and decide to make your way down into the house.

The house is completely silent as you wander down the stairs, evident that everyone else is still asleep. It doesn’t surprise you, you haven’t been good at sleeping recently, always waking up much earlier than you would like to. You imagine everyone else stayed up for a while after you disappeared to your room the night before, possibly all nursing a slight hangover this morning with the amount they could drink from your experience. You quietly make your way to the one room you had become familiar with the night before, the den. You stop in your tracks the moment you enter the room, surprised to find Lewis on the couch. He’s got a blanket draped across his legs and a large fire going in the fireplace in front of him. You stand frozen in the doorway for a moment, not sure if you should join him or run back to your room to avoid interaction. You finally decide it's far too cold to let his arrogant attitude keep you from getting a little bit warmer. Before you risk settling into the den alongside him you decide to go in search of a way to possibly make a warm beverage. As you make your way past him and towards the kitchen you mutter out your most polite “good morning” to which you only receive a subtle hum, almost as if he didn’t even know the sound had left his body. You roll your eyes, a constant with him around, finally making your way into the kitchen to rummage. Nothing in the kitchen works and even the hot water heater seems to be electric, the water coming from the pipes being ice cold.

“There’s a kettle on the fire, tea bags and mugs are next to the coffee maker.” Lewis’ voice calls out through the quiet house. You can’t help but wonder for a moment if someone else has woken up and he is directing them instead but as you stand there you hear nothing else. You quickly grab a tea bag and a mug, making your way back to the den and the warmth of the fire as rapidly as possible.

“Thanks.” You say quietly, offering him a small smile.

“Yeah,” He says, his gaze never leaving the fire in front of him, “should be ready in a second.”

“Okay.” You nod, settling on the floor in front of the fire despite the many cush couches and seats available.

The two of you sit in silence much to your pleasure, perfectly content to listen to the crackle of the fire instead of jabs and insults from the man behind you. The sound of him getting up from his seat draws you out of the trance that the soothing fire had put you in. It takes you a moment to realize that he is grabbing the kettle, the sound of water bubbling now coming over the sound of the crackling wood. He wordlessly fills his mug, setting the kettle and pot holder down on the hearth in front of you before moving back to his seat on the couch. You lean forward to grab the kettle, your blanket falling from your shoulders as you do so, exposing you to the still rather chilly air. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour your water and you can’t help but assume he has taken note of your worn out flannel pajamas, having noticed that he was dressed in what appeared to be a brand new Dior sweatsuit. Once you return the kettle to the hearth and adjust your blanket you turn to look at him over your shoulder, a deep smirk evident on his features.

“What?” You ask, your tone already argumentative.

“The second your blanket fell you started grumbling about winter and being cold. Not a fan I take it?” He chuckles.

You hadn’t even realized you were complaining as you made your tea, your cheeks flushing slightly at the realization.

“Moved away from it for a reason.” You mumble, returning your attention to the fire in front of you.

He doesn’t respond, allowing you to both sit in silence and enjoy the warmth and peaceful air before your family swarms the house. Just as you finish your tea you hear him start to move behind you, catching your attention. You glance back to him, seeing him folding up the blanket he had been using. 

He notices your attention, turning toward you after he throws the blanket over the couch, “Snow looks like it’s finally stopped, gonna go out and shovel so I can finally get out of your hair.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, choosing to move past it, “Dylan has a plow, he’ll be up soon.”

“It’s blocked in the garage, gotta at least shovel our cars out before we can get it out.” He tells you, grabbing his phone from the table and walking away towards his room just off the den.

His habit of leaving the room without a final thought or exit bugs you more than it should, just another thing that makes him seem arrogant and aloof. You decide to just settle in again in front of the fire, more than happy to allow him to dig the plow out of the garage, you figure he’ll appreciate the workout anyway. It doesn’t take long until you hear him reammerge from his room, the sound of snow pants swishing behind you. You focus on the sounds of him putting on his boots in the foyer mixed with the subtle murmurs of people waking up throughout the house, disappointed that your silence has come to an end. Not long after you hear Lewis shut the front door, your dad is appearing in the den, a thick robe over his pajamas.

“Hey Kiddo, how long have you been up?” He asks, his voice pleasantly quiet.

“Maybe an hour or so, honestly not sure.” You say, leaning slightly towards him as he bends down to squeeze your shoulder.

“Power has been out since you got up?” His voice stays soft as he sits down in a chair near you.

You hum, nodding before gesturing to the kettle still sitting in front of the fire, “There might still be some warm water in there if you want to make some tea or something.”

“It’s a nice fire you’ve got going here.” He tells you as he gets up to check the kettle.

“Lewis had it going when I got up.” You admit, unsure why you bothered, probably so it didn’t come up later.

“Where is he?” Your dad asks, wandering into the kitchen to find a mug.

“He just went out to shovel, I guess the plow is blocked in the garage, we’ve gotta move cars or something before we can get it out.” You tell him as he emerges with only a tea bag, stealing your empty cup from the table beside you making you laugh, “Yes, I’m done, thank you for asking.”

Your dad just chuckles, pouring himself a cup of tea, leaving your used bag in the cup, “Well after I get some caffeine in me I’ll head out to help him, there’s a ton of snow out there and it sounded like it was going to be really wet.”

“Dad, no, I’ll go change and we can force Dylan to help when he gets up.” You immediately argue, not wanting to go shovel with Lewis in the slightest but far too aware of your fathers back problems to allow him to shovel after a storm like this.

“I’m not a cripple, Y/N, I take care of our house back home during the winter, I’m perfectly capable of helping out here.” Your fathers voice is stern, his choice of words causing you to cringe.

“I know, I just, I worry about you, I don’t want you to be in pain for the holidays. Lewis is an athlete and Dylan and I are still young enough that we can bounce back. Just stay inside and help keep Tom sane while Beatrice and Vanessa freak out.” You try to reason with him, your voice quieting towards the end of your argument, unaware of who may be awake at this point.

“Fine, but if you guys need any help you let me know. Maybe I can get your brother's generator running, I would be shocked if he didn’t have one with all this.” He concedes, gesturing around to the lavish yet dark house surrounding you.

“Yeah, I was surprised there wasn’t something for the heat at least, seems very unlike Dylan.” You say, still confused by the complete lack of backup power.

Before your father can even respond you hear Vanessa's voice coming down the stairs, shrill and unforgiving for the hour of the morning.

“It’s all out Dylan, the tree in the foyer isn’t even on!” Vanessa's voice is grating, causing you and your father to exchange a look.

“Babe, it’s okay, I’m sure it will be back on soon.” Dylan's voice follows behind her. You can tell he’s only just woken up, not ready for this much drama.

“You put on the kettle for Dylan, I’m gonna go shovel.” You tell your dad with a pat on the shoulder, a teasing yet knowing smirk on your face.

“Sounds more like a whiskey kind of morning for him.” Your dad murmurs, making you laugh as you leave the room.

You can hear Vanessa freaking out in the kitchen, you manage to narrowly escape any interaction and make your way to your room to bundle up to head out to shovel.

Once you step outside you can feel just how much the temperature has dropped from the night before, your nostrils immediately stinging. You burrow your face further into your jacket, grabbing one of the shovels off of the porch and making your way down to the driveway. You notice that Lewis has made good headway so far, the porch and path fully cleared off as well as his car. Much to your surprise when you step around his tall Mercedes, you’re met with him cleaning off your small rental. 

“Is somebody dying inside?” Lewis asks when he notices your presence.

“What?” You ask, caught off guard.

“I know you’re not out here for my company Y/N, what's up?” He pries, not looking at you as he finishes removing the snow from your car before throwing the scraper in the back of his car again.

“Uh, I just came out to help.” You tell him, awkwardly holding up your shovel in his direction.

He looks in your direction, his eyebrows slightly raised in a surprised and disbelieving expression, “Okay then.”

He doesn’t say anything else, picking up his shovel from where he’d rested it in the snow bank and continuing to dig out your car. You follow his lead, beginning to chip away at the pile in front of the garage. You feel like you’re barely doing anything as you watch his large shovel fulls fly into the yard, making the snow you’re moving look like a joke.

“Thanks for cleaning off my car.” You say, trying your best to be polite.

He just shrugs, a grunt leaving his chest as he throws a particularly heavy load of snow, “Need to move it anyway.”

You just nod, continuing to shovel in silence. He has your car completely freed from the snow and is onto shoveling out a parking space off to the side by the time that you finish the small patch in front of the garage, you feel like your help is barely needed but you figure it’s better than nothing. Much to your surprise Lewis is the one to break the silence next.

“Is V inside freaking out?” He asks, leaning against his shovel to catch his breath for a moment.

You laugh quietly, nodding, not wanting to say anything that may make him defensive over his friend.

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” He says, returning to moving snow, “she can be like that when things aren’t perfect.”

You just nod, very aware of exactly what he is talking about. Only a few moments pass before you hear his voice again.

“Grab our keys from inside? Mine are in the bowl by the front door.” His question is barely a question, more of a demand but you just nod, figuring he’s doing all of the heavy lifting anyway.

When you step in the front door, Dylan is quick to rush into the entryway, “Hey, I’ll get the plow out, you guys really don’t need to keep shoveling.” His face is apologetic but you can tell he’s stressed.

“It’s alright, we’re just gonna move our cars so you can get the plow out.” You tell him, grabbing the keys from the table.

“Okay, thank you, tell Lewis thank you too. I’ll be out to plow once everything calms down a little bit in here.” He says, pulling you into a hug.

“Take your time, I think we’ll be in soon.” You say as you pull away, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile.

Back outside Lewis has successfully cleared out enough space for both of your cars to move to and get the plow out of the garage.

“Which one do you want me to move to?” You ask him, approaching him with his keys out for him.

“I’ve got it, you can go inside.” He says, pushing off from where he had been leaning against his car, taking his keys and waiting for yours.

“It’s fine, I can move a car, Lewis.” You say with a bit of a huff.

“I know Y/N, but I’ve got it.” He says back, annoyance creeping into his voice rapidly.

“Okay, fine, thanks I guess.” You snap, handing him your keys and turning around to head back inside. You hear him let out a small scoff as you walk away.

By the time you make it into the kitchen, a full meltdown is occurring. Vanessa and Beatrice are freaking out to your mother about not being able to make a proper family breakfast and Tom is berating your brother for not having fixed the generator before everyone arrived. Your parents are doing their best to get everyone to calm down, your mom trying to figure out something to make for breakfast while your father attempts to defend Dylan. You stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in, very ready to turn and run from it all.

“Holy shit.” His voice is close behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of his body as he approaches the same scene you’re now witnessing. You turn to look at Lewis, momentarily sharing a rare knowing glance.

“Happy fucking holidays.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows before stepping into the kitchen, leaving him to take his own moment before joining the insanity as well.

“Hey Dylan,” You call out loudly, trying to cut through the shrill arguments occurring, “do you think you guys have any cast iron pans around here?”

“Uh, yeah, we do, why?” He stutters briefly, thrown off by the interruption from the argument he’s been having with his father in law.

“Cool, can you grab them for me?” You say calmly, not explaining before turning toward Vanessa, “Think you have eggs and bacon in the fridge?”

“Yeah I did but I’m sure it’s all gone bad now and we can’t exactly cook it.” Her response comes out whiny and you have to take a deep breath.

“The fridge is a big cooler, it’s plenty cold in here and in there, it’s fine.” You try to explain to her, moving to the fridge to grab some ingredients quickly without letting the cold air out.

You spot the eggs and bacon, also grabbing the first bits of fruit that you see, piling everything up on the counter behind you and sending your brother a look.

“Lewis,” You call to him, catching him off guard, not expecting you to speak to him, “can you go make sure the fire is going good? I need it really hot with a good amount of coals.”

He just gives you a look like you have multiple heads before slowly nodding and making his way toward the den. Vanessa still seems to be on the verge of tears as she sits at the kitchen island, evidently having decided that the whole trip is a wash because of this little hiccup. Your brother and father quickly catch on to what is going on in your mind, your dad grabbing a loaf of bread and stacking slices of it in tin foil as your brother begins laying bacon in one of the cast iron pans you made him grab. Once his bacon is all laid out you grab the pan from him and make your way to the den, passing Lewis on the way who once again looks at you like you’re insane. You’re pleasantly surprised by the fire he’s produced when you squat down in front of it, the pan of bacon in one hand as you grab the fire poker with the other. You begin to move the logs around, trying to make a nice bed of coals for your pan before you hear his voice arguing from behind you.

“Hey, you just asked me to make a nice fire and now you’re destroying it, what the hell is this?” He sounds childish, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re ruining the admittedly beautiful fire he made.

You shake your head, finally placing the pan of bacon down on the hot coals before standing to face him, “We’re gonna cook like we’re camping so your best friend doesn’t lose her absolute mind. Can you handle that?” Your voice is low, a bite to it caused by him not being able to go with the flow for a moment.

“Jesus, okay captain.” He shoots back sarcastically as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Okay V, bacon is on the fire, it’s gonna take a minute longer than usual but once that’s going I’ll get some eggs on as well and I think my dad already has the toast ready to go in.” You say, keeping your voice calm as you wrap an arm around your sister in law, “How about we get some fruit cut up to tie us over?”

The hug she wraps you in makes your heart clench, as annoying as her behaviour about the situation is you can feel in her hug that it was genuinely taking a toll on her.

“Thank you, oh my god I love you so much, best bonus sister in the world.” She says, squeezing you tight.

“Thank my dad and Dylan, they’re the ones that made me go camping so much as a kid.” You giggle, squeezing her back while sending both the men a slightly unimpressed look before cracking a smirk. They both knew you were joking, some of your fondest memories were from those camping trips.

“Oh, wait, Dyl, isn’t there a case of Champagne in the basement? We could do Mimosas!” Vanessa suddenly perks up, her mood shifting quickly.

“Yeah babe, there is, I'll go grab it, be just a second.” Dylan says eagerly, evidently pleased to see his wife excited about something for the first time all morning. 

“Glad to see one of your kids has got some problem solving skills, not the one I would have expected though.” Tom grumbles from the corner of the kitchen as Dylan disappears into the basement, your stomach clenching at the obvious distaste for the both of you in his voice, “I have been telling him to get the generator looked at for months, yet here we are. Hell, I could fix the thing if the damn kid had any tools.”

“Dylans got tools,” Lewis pipes up, having just walked back into the room, not even waiting for the evident rebuttal your father was about to lay out, “he’s got a whole workshop in the back shed. Breakfast is gonna be a while, maybe you and I can get it running.”

“Finally, some initiative, you’re a good man Lewis.” Tom says, already pushing off the counter and heading to suit up for generator repair.

“Dad.” Vanessa groans, pressing her forehead into her hands.

You can see every word your father would like to say bubbling at the surface, only keeping them inside for the sake of civility for the holiday, your mother quietly stewing from where she stands cutting up fruit. As Tom makes his way out of the room, Lewis moves over to where you and Vanessa are standing.

“Fair warning V, I don’t know the first thing about generators so I claim no responsibility for anything that happens, but he needs to get out of this damn room before it gets worse.” He tells her softly, squeezing her shoulder.

“Thank you.” She whispers softly, grabbing his hand to squeeze it back.

“By the way,” His voice is slightly louder now, his attention directed at you “I threw a few more logs on the fire to keep it hot, your bacon might need to get flipped soon, it was starting to get pretty violent.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” You say, surprised he even let you know, you would have sooner imagined he would let you burn it just to see you be yet another disgrace of the day, simply for his amusement. 

When Dylan returns from the dark basement you are whisking eggs alone in the kitchen, his arms are full of Champagne bottles as he looks around at the empty room, evidently confused.

“Sorry that took so long, hard to navigate in the dark, where-” He begins.

“Mom, Dad, Beatrice, and V are all in the den watching the bacon cook.” You laugh, catching on to his question.

“Tom and Lewis?” He asks, immediately suspect.

“They're outside trying to fix the generator.” You say sheepishly, knowing he would hate it but not wanting to lie to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He says under his breath, turning away from you for a moment.

“I know, I know, but Tom was going to go absolutely insane in here and as much as I dislike him I kinda think Lewis was trying to save your marriage.” You say quickly, trying to calm him down.

Dylan lets out a sigh, setting the heavy bottles down on the counter, “They better not hurt themselves fucking around with it. Besides they literally can’t fix it, it’s missing a part from the manufacturer, which I told Tom, but no, he has to go-” He begins to rant.

“Hey, Lewis at least kinda knows engines and if they can’t fix it, at least it keeps them busy for a while. Also just keep in mind that Dad would be just as overprotective of me as Tom is with V.” You try to diffuse the situation.

“Never thought I would hear you defend Lewis.” Dylan grumbles, ignoring everything else you had to say.

“I’m not,” You quickly defend yourself, “I’m just trying to give you the whole picture.”

“I’m glad you’re here, this family drives me insane sometimes. Nice to have someone normal.” Dylan admits to you quietly, not even looking up at you as the words leave his mouth.

“You may want to recalibrate on what you consider normal,” You start with a laugh, moving around the island to wrap him in a hug, “but I’m happy to be your partner in crime. Now, I’m gonna go cook some eggs and throw this bread on the fire. You pop some champagne and grab the oj and the fruit off the back deck.”

“Why is all of it on the back deck?” Dylan asks, doing his best to ignore the sappy sibling moment.

“It’s like a walk in refrigerator, even houses this nice only get those during the winter months.” You say teasingly as you walk away with your pan and bowl of eggs.

By the time breakfast is ready, Lewis and Tom have made their way back into the house, Tom finally conceding that he can’t fix the generator without extra parts. You are proud of Dylan as you see him bite his tongue, evidently having things to say but instead just thanking his father in law for trying. Vanessa is overjoyed with breakfast, thanking you profusely and taking a billion pictures because ‘it's just so rustic’, making you laugh every time she excitedly mentions it. Once again you feel yourself wanting to say something when you notice Lewis not touching anything that was made, sitting at the table with just a bowl of fruit and a mimosa, but you decide against it, deciding to just let breakfast progress peacefully. You do still find yourself hoping that he will leave the second after your brother finally gets outside to plow. 

Once everyone is done eating you find yourself offering to help Beatrice clean up at the same moment as Lewis, she of course takes both of your offers happily, both of you sharing a less than pleased glance. As you begin to pile dishes into the sink, only able to rinse them with cold tap water, you hear a humm. 

Your brothers voice cuts your thoughts off, talking to Lewis, “Hey man, I was gonna head out to plow, and I know you already shoveled and thank you so much, but I was wondering if I could convince you to hop on the skidoo while I’m on the hill, Vanessa freaks out when I plow the hill alone and I don’t think we need anymore drama this morning.”

“Yeah, no problem mate, just give me a minute.” Lewis says calmly.

“Guys, shhh.” You hiss from your spot at the sink.

“Well no shit.” Lewis mutters from behind you, where he stands wrapping up the bowl of fruit salad.

“Is that the heat?” You ask excitedly, whipping around to face them.

“Sounds like it.” Lewis chuckles, not looking at you, instead turning to open the fridge to put the salad away, a smile crossing both of your faces when you see the light illuminate the interior.

“Powers back on!” You hear your fathers voice call from the other room.

You decide to leave the dishes for another moment, heading into the den where everyone else has settled for the time being. When you enter you hear the TV click on, your father immediately finding the local news.

“The snowfall is the worst we have seen in almost a decade, nearing four feet in under twenty four hours. The winds were devastating, taking out power to most of the surrounding rural neighborhoods. Emergency crews are on the ground to aid in snow removal and extraction for those trapped indoors. If you are in a safe and warm location we urge you to stay inside, do not attempt travel, and wait for further updates.” The weather reporter's voice carries through the den, the TV cutting to scenes of parts of town that you had driven through absolutely ransacked with snow and downed trees.

“Lewis, darling, I know the snow has stopped but you have to stay, I would be worrying about you the whole time you were out there.” Beatrice says, her voice sounding overly desperate like calling someone home from war.

“It’s just a drive, Bea, I’d be totally fine once I made it to my house.” He argued patiently, his voice behind you.

“But the drive, you never know what will happen, and what if you get to your house and something happened there, then you have to drive all the way back here. I would be worried sick.” Beatrice continues to argue as if its her house, you know Vanessa would never turn Lewis down but the audacity of her mother doesn't cease to amaze you.

“Y/N and I got my car out of the snow this morning, if we can get the driveway plowed I’m good to go. Between my driving skills and the four wheel drive I’m sure I will be more than fine, I might have to sit through some delays but that will be it.” He continues to attempt to reason with the distraught woman.

“Lewis, she’s right, they’re telling people to stay put. It’s not worth the risk.” Vanessa pipes up, siding with her mom.

You can hear him let out a heavy sigh and you know he’s getting ready to concede, you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him disagree with Vanessa or tell her no to anything she wants.

“I don’t want to intrude, I know you weren’t planning on having me here. You guys should really have your family holiday the way you planned it.” He argues one last time, the weakest argument yet.

“Nonsense, you are family. I’m always happy to have the son I never got around.” Tom says eagerly. You cringe internally at his words, for both Dylan and Vanessa, you can even see distaste on Lewis’ face when you steal a glance at him.

“I do genuinely need to get to my house at some point, but I’ll stick around a little longer if it would make you feel better.” Lewis finally concedes, looking less enthusiastic than you had anticipated.

You quietly announce that you are going to go finish the dishes, wanting to get away from everyone for a moment. You’re only allowed to be alone for a moment before Lewis is joining you in the kitchen, much to your dismay.

“You’ll survive.” You hear him grumble as he begins cleaning up the kitchen behind you.

“I didn’t say anything.” You snap at him, unhappy with being attacked unprovoked.

“Didn’t have to, I know you don’t want me here.” He says firmly.

“It’s not my house, Vanessa can invite whomever she pleases.” You say, continuing with the dishes.

“Yeah, she can, doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.” He argues.

“Because you’re just buzzing to spend more time with me?” You question him harshly, finally turning to face him as you dry your hands.

“Oh fucking dying.” He says sarcastically, an over dramatic pained look on his face.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before once again he is leaving the room without a word.

“It’s only a week Y/N.” You mutter to yourself, taking a deep breath before busying yourself with cleaning. Maybe you can keep yourself so busy you won’t have to interact with him at all.

[fazedlight]

Zhizhaf (Chill)

“There’s the last of it,” Kara said cheerfully, dimming down her heat vision in order to hand Lena her hot cocoa. “No more heat vision until we get back on Earth.”

“So we really don’t have to worry about that asteroid field?” Alex asked.

The four sat in a circle on the floor of J’onn’s cruiser - Kara, Lena, Alex, and Kelly all facing one another, piled onto pillows and blankets as their ship made its way through space. J’onn had been kind enough to let the four borrow his ship for the journey to Argo, taking about a day - longer than the last time Kara went, to avoid stressing the engines - for a trip to Kara’s homeland.

Unlike Kara’s first time aboard the cruiser, J’onn had made considerable improvements, allowing it to have a bigger interior than her first trip to Argo or Mars. There were controls facing out towards windows of endless darkness, a small area with a TV and couches and blankets that also served as a place to sleep, a storage closet with leftover supplies, and a small bathroom. Finally, the back of the ship had a small airlock, leading to the exit.

(Kara had suggested making it a convertible car like her trip to Mars, but she was soundly outvoted.)

“J’onn’s ship can navigate the asteroid field automatically,” Kara shrugged. “Besides, I don’t trust your flying.”

“Hey, I saved you after you threw Fort Rozz into space,” Alex said back. “In your own pod.”

“This ship is bigger! And there were no asteroids!”

“Earth is surrounded by debris-”

“Maybe we can watch a movie,” Kelly grinned, eyeing Lena across the way, who was holding back a laugh at the bickering sisters. “We brought a copy of Die Hard with us.”

The group agreed - aside from Kara murmuring The Mummy is better under her breath - as the group repositioned their nest of blankets and pillows. Kelly grabbed the DVD, popping it into the TV before snuggling up against Alex and reaching for the remote.

Lena, in turn, snuggled up against Kara - causing the kryptonian’s heart to skip a beat. Keep it together, Kara thought, we’re just friends.

But before Kelly could press play, Lena interrupted. “Guys? Should that be happening?”

The group turned, following Lena’s gaze to the windows ahead, where a small layer of ice was forming at the rims. “That’s not good,” Alex said, as the four shuffled to their feet.

They approached the screens of the ship controls, as Lena began to tap away. “Flow is normal in all steam pipes,” Lena said, “No sign of a leak or reduced gas pressure-”

“But the temperature’s dropping fast,” Kelly murmured, rubbing at her arms as Alex stepped in to warm her. “Something isn’t right.”

“Our course is off,” Alex said, nodding towards a neighboring screen. “We still have the same plot mapped, but we’re deviating significantly.”

“Because of the asteroids?” Kelly asked.

“This is too far for that,” Lena murmured.

“No…” Kara whispered.

The other three women looked up at the kryptonian, noting her wide eyes and suddenly concerned features. “Kara?” Lena asked.

“We need psychic inhibitors,” Kara said, turning to run towards the storage closet, “Alex, stay at the controls, autopilot might disengage.”

“Kara, what’s happening?” Lena asked, as she and Kelly followed. Kara was already digging into the first box she pulled down.

“We need three psychic inhibitors, you guys need to start looking,” she said frantically, as Kelly pulled down a second box and began her search.

“Three? You don’t need one?” Lena asked, pulling down a third box.

“You don’t,” Kara said, refusing to meet Lena’s eyes as she was digging. “You might be the only one left sane in a moment.”

“What are you-”

“Found one,” Kelly said, holding up the small earpiece.

“Put it on Alex since she’s driving,” Kara said, as Kelly got up.

“Why would I be the only sane one?” Lena asked. “Kara, what’s happening?”

“Zhizhaf-shed,” Kara said gravely, shoving her box aside to grab another. “I thought they were a myth.”

“I don’t know what that means-”

“They’re-” Kara hesitated, avoiding looking Lena in the eye. “They’re sirens.”

“Sirens,” Kelly said, returning to continue digging through another box. “Mythological creatures that sing to men at sea, so they can crash their ships into the rocks?”

“Kryptonians have a similar legend, about psychic attacks, making people euphoric enough to run out the airlocks,” Kara said. Lena pulled out a second psychic inhibitor, to Kara’s great relief. “Give it to Kelly,” Kara said, watching as Lena passed the device and Kelly attached it to her head.

“Aren’t you immune from psychic attacks?” Lena asked worriedly, continuing to dig into a box.

“Only sometimes,” Alex said from across the room, “Psi was able to break through.”

“How do you know it’s them?” Kelly asked.

“The first sign is a chill coming across the ship,” Kara said, “And then they-”

“Autopilot disengaging!” Alex shouted, “I’m taking over the controls manually.”

“-do that. We don’t have much time,” Kara said, shuffling around the boxes. “We just need one more.”

“Why only one?” Lena said, glancing to the devices on Alex and Kelly’s heads, “Why won’t it affect me?”

“Sirens only, um…” - Kara shifted another box - “They only tempt people who love women.”

Lena and Kelly’s eyes both widened, realizing the additional similarity between Earth and kryptonian sirens. “Then we need two more,” Lena said.

Kara’s head jerked up to Lena. “What are you talking about?”

“We all need them, Kara,” Lena said firmly.

It was Kara’s turn for her eyes to widen-

“Found a third,” Kelly said, holding up a device. Kara muttered something under her breath, grabbing the device from Kelly’s hand, leaning forward to place it on Lena’s temple before she had time to argue. “One more,” Kara said firmly, as they all resumed digging.

But they were out of time.

Lena and Kelly didn’t notice for a moment as they searched - and Alex couldn’t, as she concentrated on navigating the asteroid field, fighting whatever powers were trying to tug the ship off of its path as the air became colder and colder.

But Kara had stilled. “Beautiful…” she murmured. 

Lena glanced up, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach as she looked over at the kryptonian’s blank face. “Kara?”

“Do you hear that?” Kara said, rising to her feet.

“Kara,” Kelly said, glancing worriedly towards Kara before grabbing another box. “Stay with us, Kara.”

“They’re - they’re beautiful,” Kara said, turning, “They’re calling to me…”

Lena tried to tackle her as Kara walked towards the back of the ship, but - even depowered - Kara was simply too strong. “Kara, Kara stay with me-”

“They say I can go home-”

“You are going home!” Lena begged, trying to pull Kara back. “We’re going to Argo, your parents are waiting-”

But it didn’t seem to matter, how hard Lena pulled back on the kryptonian, what she said. Kara’s eyes were far off and glazed over, entranced and distant as she resolutely made her way to the airlock. “They said I don’t have to be alone anymore,” Kara said.

“Kara-”

Kara pushed Lena back, bounding towards the airlock switch, tapping at the buttons as Lena shuffled to her feet. “Damn it, Kara, they’re not real!”

Lena’s heart raced as the layer of the airlock opened. I can’t let that close with her on the other side, Lena thought, darting forward to again, trying to come up with a plan that was better than another pathetic attempt at wrestling the kryptonian to the ground.

But nothing occurred to her as she caught up to Kara, grabbing her arm. “Kara, please, don’t!”

“I have to,” Kara murmured.

“Why?!”

“I can have everything,” she replied simply, stepping inside. “I can have what I can’t have.”

“Kara-”

There was no more thought. 

There was no more reason. Lena could think of nothing else to do when she surged forward, wrapping her arms around Kara’s neck. Maybe it was some combination of I didn’t know you were into women so now I can put my hat into the ring or just as simple as what if what you want is me. Anything to distract Kara from the siren’s call. Something desperate and stupid.

Lena pressed her lips against Kara’s.

She expected to be thrown back again, shoved aside as Kara finalized the dance of the airlock before losing her life somewhere in space. 

But to Lena’s relief, Kara froze. The kryptonian planted a hand on the wall next to the latch, body tense with confusion. Lena pulled back to look into Kara’s eyes, watching as the fog seemed to partially lift. “Lena?” Kara asked, blinking and dazed but somehow more herself.

“I’m here,” Lena said.

But to her horror, the fog seemed to only temporarily clear. Kara’s eyes began to glaze over again as the ship became colder still. Lena was dimly aware of Kara moving to flick the switch of the airlock, of a tap-tap-tap sound approaching behind her, of the kryptonian pushing her away as the trance began to grow again-

Then Lena felt a small push to the side, as Kelly stepped in, pressing a device to Kara’s temple.

Lena sighed in relief.

-----

Kara slept for most of the remaining journey, fitful between stretches of sleep and brief moments to drink some water. “This really wiped her out,” Alex said.

Kara was still shaky when they arrived on Argo, though her grogginess faded faster - by the time they were all sitting for a meal with Alura and Zor-El, she had mostly recovered from the stressful ordeal. Warm hugs and introductions were exchanged, stories told over the evening as the group settled in for their stay.

But Kara had not once met Lena’s eyes.

Evening became night - dishes were cleaned, bags were placed in guest rooms, and Kara excused herself to step outside and watch the starry skies of Argo. I need to clear the air, Lena thought to herself, glancing to the door as Alex and Kelly wandered off to shower and sleep.

Lena stepped outside, grateful that Kara’s parents were content to remain indoors, reading for the evening. She glanced up ahead, watching where Kara stood in a dim garden, leaning on a railing as she watched the sky. 

Lena walked forward, fighting the shivers from the cool night, knowing that Kara could hear her padding across the stone steps, before she gingerly stepped to Kara’s side. Lena leaned against the railing, eyes gazing out in the same direction as Kara’s, as they stood in silence.

Lena heard Kara draw in a quiet, resigned breath. “It worked because it was you,” Kara confessed.

“What do you mean?” Lena asked gently.

“The kiss. It woke me up,” Kara said, swallowing nervously. “It’s- it’s not just that you’re a woman. It worked because it was you.”

“Oh,” Lena breathed.

“I probably should’ve told you a while ago,” Kara murmured. “How I felt. I didn’t expect…”

Kara trailed off, shuffling nervously on her feet. Lena placed a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s certainly not how I imagined our first kiss,” Lena murmured.

That startled Kara enough to finally - finally - meet Lena’s gaze. “You- imagined?”

“For years,” Lena said softly. “Personally, I think we should get a do-over.”

Kara smiled. “Really?”

“Really.”

Kara examined Lena’s face - glanced to her eyes, before dropping to her lips, back up to her eyes again. Lena could see the slight blush on Kara’s cheeks in the dark, and she knew hers were in a matching shade.

Kara moved slowly, tentatively - opening her arms for Lena to step into them, which Lena did. Lena found herself lifting her hands, cupping Kara’s face as the blonde smiled softly back. Tentatively, Kara leaned forward, as Lena tilted her head.

Lips met soft lips, and Lena could feel her heart flutter in her chest, feel Kara’s tension sublimate to eagerness. Lena parted her lips in an invitation that Kara blissfully followed, the blonde tightening her arms around Lena’s waist as Lena’s fingers made their way into Kara’s hair.

And Lena no longer felt the chill of the night.

[pretzel-box]

Hello!! I dont know if your requests are still open but if they are can you do one where sebastian realizes his feelings for reader? If your requests are close you can ignore this i love your writing

Mesmerised

words: 1k

tags: love at first sight, sebastian crushes on you

authors note: I kinda made it into a first meeting scenario, where Sebastian falls in love with reader without knowing them

if you want a friends to lovers type of thing just send another ask❤️

One thing that Sebastian had quickly figured out in the Hadal Blackside was that resources were rare and had immense value. The best source for them? His own customers—unfortunate souls who met their end at the hands of nearly every danger the abyss had to offer.

He didn't need to worry about Pandemonium or Wall Dwellers; most visitors sent by Urbanshade died to mundane things like a brightly burning door or a gas leak in a pipe. To Sebastian, they were nothing more than loot bags, ripe for the picking. He never even had to stress about them getting their hands on the silly crystal. At this rate, they’d all be dead long before they got close.

Tonight, he was out on a routine scavenging run, roaming the dark hallways after spotting an angler rush by. His eyes, perfectly attuned to the darkness, quickly picked out a lifeless corpse lying on the wet ground. Poor guy, Sebastian mused with a smirk, must be embarrassing to die to something so simple. 

He didn’t waste time, immediately crouching down to collect the scattered belongings. Among the items, he found a blacklight in good condition. That would fetch a decent price. He was so absorbed in his task, so confident and sly about securing new items for his store, that he failed to notice a pair of curious eyes watching him from the shadows.

“It’s not healthy to look at things in a dark light,” a voice said, startling him. You turned on your flashlight, aiming it just low enough so as not to blind anyone. You'd learned that lesson the hard way with your now-deceased teammate.

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat as you stepped into the dim glow, unbothered by his monstrous appearance. You were a striking contrast to the grim surroundings—calm, almost serene, as if this hellish place had nothing left that could surprise you. You offered him the flashlight, your expression unreadable.

“No need,” Sebastian muttered in his usual grumpy tone, not expecting to be caught in the act, especially not by someone like you. He raised one of his three arms, switching on his anglerfish lure to get a better look at you.

The soft, eerie glow illuminated your face, and for the first time in a long while, Sebastian felt something strange stir in his chest. You didn’t flinch, didn’t recoil in disgust or fear as most others did. Instead, you met his gaze with steady, almost curious eyes.

In that brief moment, Sebastian found himself captivated. There was something about the way you stood there, unfazed by the corpse, by him, by everything that should have sent you running. Your calm demeanor, your willingness to hand over your flashlight without a second thought, it all left him feeling... something. Was this what they called love at first sight?

He’d always thought it was nonsense, a ridiculous human sentiment that had no place in a world as brutal as this. But now, with you standing there, looking at him with an unreadable expression, he wasn’t so sure.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unfamiliar feeling. “You’re awfully brave, aren’t you?” he said, his voice gruff but lacking the usual edge. “Walking around here alone. Don’t you know this place is dangerous?”

You shrugged, your gaze never wavering from his. “Dangerous, sure, but I’ve seen worse. Besides, I’m not alone, am I?”

That simple statement caught him off guard. Not alone. Did you really mean him? The idea of someone seeing him as anything other than a monster, let alone company, was new. Unsettling, even. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Sebastian straightened up, awkwardly holding onto the blacklight he’d just looted. “Well, you should still be careful,” he grumbled, trying to mask his flustered state. “Not everyone’s as... understanding as me.”

A small, almost playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Noted. But I think I can manage.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but admire your confidence. There was something magnetic about it, something that drew him in despite himself. He found himself wanting to know more about you, to understand what made you so different from the others who came through his shop.

“So, what brings you out here?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going, though his usual gruffness couldn’t completely mask the curiosity in his voice. “You don’t exactly look like the looting type.”

You glanced down at the corpse, then back at Sebastian. “Just exploring for something. This place has a lot of... mysteries. Thought I might find something interesting.”

“Mysteries, huh?” He couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “You’ve definitely found something. Not sure if I’d call it interesting, though.”

Your smile widened just a fraction, and Sebastian felt his heart skip again. Damn it, what was wrong with him? He was a shopkeeper, a scavenger, not some lovesick fool. But there was no denying it—he was drawn to you, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Maybe I’ll find something even more interesting next time,” you said, your tone light, almost teasing. “Who knows?”

Sebastian found himself nodding before he could think better of it. “Yeah... maybe.”

As you turned to leave, he couldn’t stop himself from calling out, “Be careful out there. And if you ever need... supplies or anything, my shop’s just down the hall.”

You paused, glancing back at him with that same unreadable expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, your voice soft but clear.

And with that, you disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sebastian standing there, holding a looted blacklight and wondering what the hell had just happened. 

“I should have asked for the name…”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian felt a strange flutter of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was something worth more than all the loot in the Hadal Blackside. And with such a cute prisoner in the hallways, he might feel generous enough to leave you the one or other discount. 

[yanderelionwrites]

Look at Me Like I’m the Only Star in the Sky - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity

Word Count: 722

A/N: First twst writing on this blog! This man has me by the throat 😩 Enjoy!

You had never seen so many at once before.

Each twinkling ball of light decorating the night sky had you staring up at them in awe. Seeing the stars and moon shining so brightly captivated you; the tranquility in the air bringing a type of peace you haven’t felt in a while. You would never get such a nice view of the stars back home, only able to count on your hands how many you could see. But here…there had to be at least a million of them. A million stars that are foreign to you. No familiar constellation that you could point out.

It was times like these that remind you how far away you truly are from your own world. Your home.

A home that you will never return to.

A home that’s been ripped away from you, and replaced with a suffocating palace.

The Afterglow Savanna stretches far and wide before you, the sun having set long ago. The country really is a gorgeous place, but you know you won’t ever get to explore it. You’re not allowed to leave the palace and you’re not allowed to leave him.

At least you’re allowed out on the balcony. You’ve contemplated climbing down to make an escape, but the risk of being caught by the guards was too high. They’ve been told to keep a close eye on you, and you did not want to scuffle with those intimidating beastwomen guards.

You sigh at the cluster of stars up above. They twinkle back. You vaguely remember Leona mentioning how it was believed the stars were the dead kings from the past. They’d watch over the royal family and guide them whenever they lost their way.

…The one watching Leona must have gotten lazy.

“There you are.”

A voice you once loathed to hear, but now have grown to somewhat tolerate, pipes up behind you. A few steps and he’s leaning against the balcony a comfortable distance away from you.

Great.

The once peaceful air has turned tense now, and you don’t bother to greet or even acknowledge that he is there. The two of you stand in painful silence, waiting for the other to speak.

“Ya look like you’ve never seen a night sky before,” Leona says, his eyes still glued to the stars.

You’re quiet for a moment, debating whether you actually want to indulge him in conversation this time. You take so long thinking about it, Leona huffs and turns to leave.

“…It’s rare for me to see it like this. Only a couple stars are ever visible where I’m from.” Your voice stops him in his tracks, and he returns to his place against the balcony. He hums in acknowledgment, but stays quiet after that.

Leona has always been interested in hearing about your home, but knows better than to ask. Any talk about your world would only put you in a bad mood. You already hate him; no need to keep reminding you why. It was best to just pretend you weren’t from an entirely different universe at all. Maybe with enough time you’ll forget about your world and consider Twisted Wonderland as your forever home.

Instead, he opts for stealing glances at you while your gaze is turned away from him. You look so soft in the moonlight, no one would have guessed you had been spewing insult after insult at him this morning. Proclaiming how much you hate him.

But Leona loves you. So he’ll let you get away with saying just about anything to him. All that matters is that you’re here with him.

You’re completely enamored by the stars. Are they really that amazing to you? They’re just big balls of flaming gas billions of kilometers away. Nothin’ special. 

…Would you ever look at him that way?

Like he was the most important thing you could ever lay your eyes on. Like he was the shining light of your life.

…No, of course not. Why would you? He’s the selfish, second born prince, and he doesn’t deserve that same look of admiration from you.

Leona can’t pretend and he can’t keep hoping anymore. He’s ruined his chances, and now you hate him more than anything.

But at least you’re by his side. You can’t leave him behind.

He’ll settle for that.

For now.

~~~

I like mean yan Leona as much as the next gal, but soft yan Leona?? Where he's desperate for his Darling's love but still patiently waits for them to come around?? That's the good shit 👌

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Hope you liked this little drabble!

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can I request one where the reader overhears her boyfriend Paul calling the reader clingy so she went from being by his side to always having plans barley seeing him and he finally gets her and she just breaks down saying she didn’t wanna be clingy anymore

You smile to yourself as you walk around Billy Black's house toward the back, where you know Paul is.

"Yes! Same, dude! Is y/n the sam way as Nessie?" You hear Jacob ask. "She's just clingy!" You can hear Paul say. Your heart jumps and then falls onto the ground, shattering. You feel sick to your stomach. You don't even want to hear the rest. You turn your feet and walk right back to your car. You start the engine and go.

On the drive back home, you're crying. But, things are going to change if you want to keep Paul.

You stop at a gas station and pull out your phone. You call your coworker who you get along with.

"Hey Angela." You say. "Hey! What's up? Oh, if it's to cover for your shift Thursday, I would, but I can't. Ask for any other day, though!" She pipes up. "No, no. I was actually wondering if you wanted to hang out." You say. She pauses but then starts talking again, "Yes! When? Where?" She giggles. "Are you busy now?" You smile. "Nope."

You drive to Angela's house. You know where she lives, considering you've had to scoop her up for work a couple of times. Her car hates to start on freezing mornings. You walk up the steps and knock on her door. Eric opens it. Typical Eric, in his nice suit from work. "Hello?" He asks. "Hey! I'm Angela's coworker, y/n. I'm just coming to hang out." You say. "Oh!" He smiles and then points at you, "Yeah, yeah! She just mentioned that! Come in." He lets you inside.

You get home, and you go to bed. Your phone starts ringing. You pick it up. "Y/n, where have you been?" He asks kind of angrily. "I've been with Angela." You reply. "Your coworker?" He asks. "Yes." You say dryly. "Oh.. uh, you didn't tell me?" He said. "Sorry, babe." You sigh. "You're acting off." He said. You had to think quickly. "I just forgot to tell you. I'm sorry, babes. Needed some girl time." You giggle. "Oh, I see. Well, tomorrow I'm not doing anything at all! My day off of being a wolf." He laughs. Your heart is pounding. Oh god, do you want to be next to him. "Want to come over?" He asks. "Uh, no, I have plans." You say. You put him on speaker phone and go through your contacts. "With who?" He asks, surprised. You see the texts between you and Leah. She asked you a couple of days ago to decorate her house since you're good at that. "Leah wants me to decorate her house." You text her saying you'll be there tomorrow. "How about after?" He asks. "I'll visit for a little bit." You sigh.

-------- 2 weeks later -----

You wake up to pounding on your door. You jump up out of bed and open the door. There stands a disheveled, hurt, and angry Paul. "Paul?" You ask. He pushes past you and walks inside, going straight to your room. You follow him, and he bear hugs you. Squeezing you and sighing of relief. "Jesus christ. You know it hurts to stay away from you. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?" He pulls away and looks at you. Seeing him in this state and completely missing him just brings tears to your eyes. You can't hold it anymore. You sit on your bed and start sobbing. "What is going on, baby?" He leans down and holds your face, looking into your red eyes. He wipes your tears away, and you blink a few times. "Paul, I heard what you said to Jacob at Billy's house." You said. He raises an eyebrow. "I'm too clingy." You said dryly. "If that's what I am to you and you're unhappy, you should've just told me. I'm scared to lose you." You cry. "Babygirl." He pulls you into him. "No, I didn't mean it like that at all. I love that you're clingy. It's my favorite thing ever." He cooes. You shake your head and try to push him off. "No. You meant it bad, I could tell." You sniffle. He holds tighter, so you can't get out of his grip. "We were talking about you and Renesmee. We were saying things that we like that most guys hate. Babygirl, we are soulmates. Nobody understands what it's like to truly love someone." He strokes your hair. You look up at him, and now you feel stupid. "I promise you. I can't lie to you, you know that. And look at me!" He chuckles. "I actually feel like death.'' He says. "I'm so sorry." You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you deeply, it feel like the first time kissing him. It feels like it's been forever. He pulls away from your lips very slowly. "I'm staying the night." He says, demanding. You laugh and nod your head.

[celestialprincesse]

More Simon X Single mom!Reader💕🌙

Based on this drabble😚

wc: 1.1k

You're so, painfully reluctant to ask Simon for help. He offers, frequently, to help you get bedded in to your small flat, which only now, finally free from the clutches of your desperation, do you understand why it was so cheap. The first time he comes over for dinner he notes the way your kitchen faucet takes ages to put out hot water, and honestly, it took a fair bit of blindly tapping (smacking) random pipes to get any water at all. He seems to take issue with not only the lack of amenities that could help you get settled, but also the fact that the few basics that you do have access to don't work. You're a single mom, with a three year old daughter, and his sense of justice has always been at war with his longing search for peace and isolation.

Simon doesn't have much to do when he's not deployed, Price putting him on some kind of mandatory break after the last mission went south, as did his mental health. Because of said lack of hobbies, work and education, Simon finds himself doing literally whatever he can think of to occupy his mind, to forget about what happened in October - if that means helping you string a wreath on the front of your apartment door and lugging a christmas tree up the stairs for you, that's what he'll do. You'll be the first to admit that you're cash poor - buying this house ate up the majority of your savings, and the rest you're currently blowing through supporting your daughter whilst also trying to get a job, very contradictory to the fact that you're also trying to lay low.

The man that lives next door to you is no fool, not as blind and imperceptive as you wish he'd be. You see the way his eyes occaionally shoot to the fading tan line on your left ring finger and the small, raised scar on your bicep. Occasionally, he himself wishes that he wouldn't see the bags under your eyes or the way you clutch onto your daughter like she'll be ripped away from you - maybe then he wouldn't feel such a sense of duty to you. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake at night thinking of the fact that he's spent his life plagued by gunfire to protect innocent women and children, and now faced with the people he vowed to lay down his life for, all he can do is offer to fix your blocked hot water pipe.

So, when you stand on his doorstep, sniffling down fat tears threatening to spill, apologising profusley when you look up to see his confused expression, he can't help but to engulf you, and your wailing daughter at your hip, into what he can only hope is a comforting embrace. "Y' a'right? Whats goin' on?" He murmurs, a hint of panic in his voice. Simon knows the feeling of your past coming back to haunt you all too well.

"I'm sorry I just - the oven is broken, and I need to make her dinner and bath her and put her down to bed -" Is all you can manage before you're hiccuping into the hand not supporting your equally as distraught baby girl.

For a second he just stops, his brain short circuits as he struggles to comprehend the fact that you're coming to him for help. He can't understand the way you lay your soul bare before him, not when he's so distant, so intimidating, and you're oh so soft, lovely as a morning songbird and as warm as sun soaked sand.

"Would you mind looking at it?" Even you recognise how pathetic you sound, standing here practically grovelling at your neighbours door, but apparently it works when he's guiding you back to the front door you stupidly left open in your panic, pulling out a kitchen chair and easing you down as you sit between utter misery and the panic which filled your lungs like a puncture in a life raft when one little part of your routine you'd become so reliant on fell out of place.

"Gas's out." He tells you softly, like any more bad news might make you shatter completely, and the thought of delivering that blow makes him feel physically sick. "Right - Right, no gas." You murmur, brain whirring at a million miles a second in order to work out what to do next.

"You could use my oven? I'll call the gas company in the morning and have them install a new bottle."

His words make you stop, processing his offer, his generosity, the generosity of a man who's never once been cruel or rough or mean to you, and you give a little grateful nod, cooing to your daughter about how you're going on an adventure to Simon's place. The way he scoops her up so that you can stuff a bag with all of the things you need to make dinner, bouncing her on his hip to stop her wailing makes your insides warm in an unfamiliar way, one that you promptly shake off as you follow him across the threshold of his undecorated apartment, trying not to stare at your surroundings as you're guided to a kitchen that you're sure is far more functional than your own.

The way Simon doesn't have any cartoon channels on his TV, so he grabs his laptop instead, plopping your daughter down on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders and some kind of kids show playing on the screen makes you ache, and you can't imagine how a man with no kids of his own could be so good with yours. There's a softness to him despite his physical body being comprised of muscle and sinew and scars, his soul is gentle. He's gentle with you, and he's gentle with your daughter, and that's all that you can ask for.

You make enough dinner for the three of you, mostly to thank Simon for his hospitality, but also because you're starving and the meat needs eating. When you ask where the cutlery is, he gives a little chuckle, grabbing out two sets for you and him, as well as your daughter's little blue Peter Rabbit spoon and tray. He helps you dish up dinner, and when you go to sit at the table, he steers you into the lounge.

"You're not worried about food on the couch?" You squeak in utter confusion, to which he gives a laugh and plops down on one end, placing your daughters tray before her where she sits in the middle of the two of you, happily scarfing down her dinner and watching whatever Simon could find on such short notice.

When you inevitably fall asleep on his couch, your daughter doing the same, Simon sets a blanket over the two of you before going into the kitchen to call the gas company, putting down his card details to pay for the new bottle. He's happy to cough up fifty quid that he's sure you don't have if it means not seeing his girls cry again.

[rapturously]

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”