#more legs than a bucket of chicken
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gamemakerm · 2 years ago
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someone mentioned To Wong Foo so I had to watch it again and every time I just think about how John Leguizamo as Chi-chi Rodriguez fuckin KILLED that shit
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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months ago
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May I request a Cowboy!James x reader where R is sick but trys to push through it and help out around the farm so she doesn't tell James but randomly when they're feeding the horses (Its a cold day) she passes out because she's got a really bad fever and she hasn't been eating properly because of how ill she feels
You probably should’ve told James that you hadn’t been feeling well.
Your room hadn’t had enough heating last night and the first chill of autumn was rolling in all night. You’re susceptible to the change in weather and you should’ve really really said something when you’d woken up.
“I’ll clean with the horses and organize the feed for them.” You say to James but you’re sluggish and the coffee you’d had earlier hasn’t kicked in yet.
You don’t think it will.
Snowglobe and Landslide are easy to deal with, older and much calmer than some of the fillies and colts.
Some of them buck and give you a bit of attitude when you’re brushing through their coats and mane but you get through it before your first wave of nausea hits.
“Fuck,” you groan, wondering if you should call James or if you can manage.
You swallow hard and push through. You already feel like enough of a burden to him now that you’re in your off months- there’s only a month again till TSG is ready to reopen for Winter- you’re not gonna shrink away from this.
You’re halfway through feeding the horses when you wobble. There’s a cold sweat breaking out on your upper lip and your heels feel like they’re off the ground.
“I’m coming Snowglobe.” You murmur, reaching for the bucket of feed to put in the feedbox when you feel unsteady. You feel like you’re floating before you hit the ground.
“Hey, darling, you’re scaring me.” You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the floor but James had your head in his lap and his hand cupping your face.
“I’m sorry, I never fed Snowglobe.” James chuckles, Snowglobe’s laying next to you, head at your side.
James had actually found the horse nudging at your side. “I think he’s more worried about you, darling.”
You reach a hand to him, Snowglobe’s nose butting your palm. “Why didn’t you say you weren’t well?” James keeps his hand on your forehead and neck; you’re burning up and from the wetness on your shirt you have been for hours.
“Thought I could do everything and then crash.”
James sighs, “How’d you get a fever, darling? Slept with wet hair again?”
You shake your head and nibble on your lip. You’re afraid James will be upset but you can’t lie when he asks you a question straight up.
“The heating in my room is busted, so I opened the window and the cold air really fucked me up.”
He groans, his lips to your forehead. “Silly girl,” James helps you sit up and pushes Snowglobe’s head away from you. “Could’ve just came into my room.”
You nod, “Sorry for getting ill Jamie.”
He only rolls his eyes, “I’m not upset. You can’t help it. Let’s go inside, I can make some soup for you.”
You smile, leaning into him as you stand on swaying legs. “And a grilled cheese?”
James laughs, “If you want to chicken soup and grilled cheese you’ll get it. You can take a bath while I fix everything up.”
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byuntrash101 · 8 months ago
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damnation of a saint (teaser)
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pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins
rating — smut | mdni
wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)
synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.
release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE
nsfw tags under the cut
tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3
a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3
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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.
He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.
“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.
“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.
Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.
“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.
“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 
“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.
Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.
“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.
“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.
“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.
A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.
“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.
“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.
“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.
When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 
“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”
Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 
“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.
“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.
“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.
“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.
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a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3
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simplyzeeka · 4 days ago
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Ruffian
Part.1
Summary: Ryan has been living a lonely life on her farm for a decade now. With no family to seek company from, she developed a routine with just her and her animals, something that soothed her loneliness. Until her happiness came back a little earlier than expected.
Warnings: MDNI!!! Cussing, chaotic animals, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, p in v(no protection), face sitting if you squint. They just missed each other y'all 😔
A/n: So, uhmm. This was supposed to be straight fluff, nothing nasty at all. But sometimes, characters have a mind of their own.
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Ryan always believed life in the countryside was much more peaceful. Although she hasn't even licked the city streets, she hears enough to have a clear and unbiased opinion about it. But that did not mean that the countryside did not have its chaos. “Daisy… Daisy! Come back here girl, where you goin’?”
And most of this chaos came from her small little farm, especially her Great Dane. If it weren't her chickens causing a ruckus, her sheep and goats were raining ditsy havoc. Her only peace came from her Friesian stallion, Ferris, always chewing on a bunch of hay in his stable away from the blasting heat.
Despite all this, Ryan loved her little farm. It was a place with many stories. Tragic and happy alike. She inherited the small plot from her grandmother who raised her into the woman she was, her parents having moved to the city since she was young as a way to send money back into the farm.
Ryan shook her head at her dog’s antics before turning back to the task before her. “Okay, Ro. We’re all done girl, you get some rest.” She spoke quietly to her cow, applying a post-dipping solution on each teat when the spotted animal did not have any more milk to give. Ryan took off her gloves and offered the cow a batch of hay, then left the stable after checking on Ro’s calf.
It was a rather long day, helping a cow give birth was the least of her expectations, luckily her grandmother had always prepared Ryan for such a situation. She carried the bucket of colostrum filled milk that would be used to feed the calf, but stopped to check on her Stallion. “What’s up big guy? Your water still good?” Ryan checked the stable for any irregularities.
Once satisfied she left the stable, securing the lash before a smooth velvet voice caught her attention. “That sissy still standin’? Thought he woulda been long dead.”
Ryan whipped her head behind her, there occupying the entrance of the shed. Worn out timbs and a pair of denim jeans that matched in condition. White wife beaters and a denim jacket over his shoulder, his signature silver chain hanging around his neck. Terrence Richmond was still as handsome as he was all those years ago.
“You lyin’ to me.” Ryan shook her head, eyes blinking slowly, there was no way he stood in front of her currently. It was too early, he wasn't supposed to be back until a few weeks. See, Ryan knew that she should stop smoking the pre-rolls that Willow always brought, they tended to leave her more paranoid than relaxed.
The smile he let out from her quiet whisper was enough to spark a flamelet to her, he really was here. Years and years of being separated and finally, he was in front of her. , “I’m right here, baby.” He dropped the bags in his hand and opened his arms.
It took a while for Ryan to react, rendered speechless just by the mere fact that he was here… with her and near her. Next thing one step turned into two, then three before she was spriniting in his direction. Ryan wasted no time locking her body around his, legs around his waist and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Terry held her even tighter, his hands gripping at her thighs so he could hold her up. A soft scent of cinnamon and peaches invaded his nose so delicately that he brushed his nose against her neck to inhale more of the sweet scent.
“I thought you was gon’ be out in a few weeks. I aint even prepare nothin’ for you, coulda held a party or somet-.”
Terry didn't allow her to finish, “Ry baby, I dont need a party. This is good, this is perfect.” Terry protested, honestly so because there was no better way than for him to celebrate his return than with his fiancé.
Ryan held his face, a small pinch between her brows as she inspected his face. “I coulda bought you somethin’ nice at least.”
Terry laughed, knowing that Ryan always wanted nothing more than to please. Her heart plummeted at the sound, she missed it… thought she'd never hear it again, but Terry had a way of always coming back to her. “God, I missed you, like a fish outta water.”
Their noses nudged as she spoke, until the distance between their lips became a little too much to bear and Terry pressed their lips together. He swallowed the sound of her content sigh, felt her relax as she leisurely responded.
The small flame in her heart spread to the rest of her body, little embers flicking off her body when his hands grabbed at her supple flesh intentionally.
Ryan grew into her womanhood, everything about her screamed ‘grown’ and Terry loved every moment of that realisation. Ten years… he hasn't seen his woman for ten years, didn't watch her grow and grow with her. But he had time to spare now, and he would be damned if he didn't spend it on Ryan.
It took being placed on a block of hay and Terry stepping between her legs that made her push him away gently. “Mmm wait baby, we can't. Ro just calved.” She explained breathlessly while playing with the charm on his chain.
“Ro? As in little Ro?” Terry asked shocked, “She getting down and busy?” Ryan rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder with a laugh. “Ro ain't so little no more. And, she been gettin’ down and busy. This her third baby.”
Terry immediately moved his body away from Ryan, running her fingers through his short curls. “Somebody got my baby pregnant?” He frowned at the declaration, no longer in the mood to get acquainted with Ryan’s body. This was big.
Ryan huffed at his Oscar winning antics. “Terry, please. She damn near eleven years old, and also a cow. Breedin’ is what they do.” She explained, not that she thought they had to, he knew what it was when he bought Ro. “Yeah, but not my Ro.”
Ryan cackled at that, he never failed to treat all the livestock on this farm like children… except her horse of course. She couldn't blame him, Terry and Ryan bought Ro off a cow breeder before he left for the military. They were only twenty years old, freshly engaged and had a dream to grow a farm together… their farm. Ro was their first cow, a big accomplishment because cows were expensive as hell.
“Okay, Soldier. Calm down.” Ryan got up from the hay and walked over to Terry. “How bout you help me carry the milk to the kitchen?” She suggested, pointing at the half full bucket of milk behind him.
Reluctantly, Terry obliged, he picked up the bucket and followed Ryan to the kitchen. She did some work to the small area, it looked different from the last time he saw it.
“You recolored?” He asked, placed the bucket on the floor before looking around. It smelled like freshly baked cookies, which didn't surprise Terry, he knew how much Ryan loved to bake.
“Mhm, got tired of the grey.” Ryan grabbed the bucket of milk and poured it in baby bottles for the calf when it woke up, she had fed it a while before it went into a deep sleep.
Terry couldn't help but to watch her, like really watch her. Her face, her hair, her skin. Everything about her. Dressed in a plain shirt, the front of it tied in a knot, showing a bit of her stomach. Flared jeans that hugged her thighs enticingly. As always, Ryan wore a low cut, stetson hat on her head, she wouldn't leave the house without one on.
She looked good, damn good and Terry found himself unable to keep composure again. A few tentative steps was all it took until he was behind her. His hands placed on her hips while his fingers dig into her belt loops as to pull her hips into his.
Ryan let out a soft laugh when she felt tickling kisses behind her ear travelling to her neck. He smelled like he always did. Honey and a hint of musk. “I'm tryna concentrate, Terrence.” Ryan began, not detering from her task, just as stubborn as Terry was on his because he didn't let up on her. “You can do this later. Come on, Ry. I miss you.”
Ryan shook her head, this was important, the baby needed their milk. “And I got you later. Gon’ make you dinner and everythin’.” She turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the little curls on the nape of his neck.
Terry sighed and looked down at her. She was so pretty. Her cheeks softly filled out, cheekbones lifting as she smiled. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from letting out a soft grunt of frustration, how was he supposed to hold off when she looked this good.
“Alright, I'ma hold you to that.” He nodded, sending a small smack to her ass and a kiss to her plump lips. “Anything you need me to help with?”
“Can you check on Ro?” Terry nodded in agreement, pecking her lips one more time before retreating from the kitchen, “Yes ma'am.”
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Time passed slowly, that when evening rolled in, Ryan was already spent from her day. She made sure that Ro and her calf were settled in for sleeping as all her other babies. As usual, her chickens gave her more of a run around, but Terry helped put them in their coop.
She had just finished with dinner, opted for a bit of a full plate as Terry's first proper meal since being back.
He was currently in the shower washing the day away while she got the table ready. She had Janet Jackson playing in the background, something she always did to decompress from a busy day of farm work.
“Terry! Come on now. The food gettin’ cold.” She called out, impatiently seated, waiting for him so they could eat.
“I'm here, I'm here.” He rushed down the stairs. His heavy steps creaked on loose floorboards. He marvelled at the effort that Ryan put into making such a vast dinner for him. Terry couldn't remember the last time he's had a proper meal straight out the pot.
“Smells good baby.” He complimented, landing a peck on her cheek before he took a seat in front of her. “Looks good too.”
Ryan smiled in appreciation, “Thank you, baby.” She did a little jiggle at the compliment, causing Terry to laugh endearingly. “Alright, let's eat. I'm hungrier than a tic on a teddy bear.”
And at that they dug in. Ryan and Terry caught up with everything they have missed together. Ten years, and Ryan still couldn't help but feel like a giddy school kid around Terry. He always had that effect on her, and something told her that he always would.
Terry ate like a man starved and Ryan used this time he was distracted to admire him. He gained muscle… a lot of muscle. While he wasn't necessarily a man of small stature, Terry came back with his clothes stretched out. She eyed his prominent veins pop out everytime he flexed his arm even the slightest.
He trimmed his beard out and kept his goatee. It was a small change, but a nice one. She remembered constantly calling him ‘patchy’ back when he was trying to fully grow it but it wouldn't grow the way he liked it.
Once dinner was done, Terry offered to wash the dishes since Ryan cooked. “You go get the bed ready, pretty. I'ma be up there in a few.”
Ryan nodded and her small feet pattered up the stairs to her bedroom. She made sure to turn the ceiling fan on, the heat making her a little irritated. “Hotter than satan’s crack.” She mumbled lowly, naive to the presence in the room.
“Wouldn't be feeling so hot if you got out those jeans.” Terry commented from behind her, arms wrapping around her torso. “You tryna get me out my clothes, Mr. Richmond?” She turned to face him, hands rested against his ripple chest.
Terry playfully shook his head, nudging his nose against hers. “Nah, I wouldn't dare, Mrs. Richmond.”
Fuck she loved that, she couldn't wait until she could become that formally. Ryan landed a kiss on his lips, missed that. Missed kissing him so much, touching him and loving him.
The kiss picked up pace. While Terry had always been an impatient man, the time they have spent apart left him with an insatiable hunger. Ryan breathed him in, cupping his lower jaw as to pull away slightly for some air. Terry chased her lips, not giving a damn about breathing with Ryan this close in his proximity.
They crashed together again, then stumbled everywhere in the room. Terry tapped her thigh twice, before he rested his hands on the underside of her thighs and picked her up with ease, and on the bed he laid Ryan gently.
Her hands fumbled with her belt buckle, not wanting to waste anymore time talking and laughing. She wanted him, in every way he came to her.
Terry took over, gently removing her hands and undid the buckle himself, except he took his time. Once the leather was gone, he unbuttoned her jeans with his teeth, sliding them down her thick thighs along with the orange lace panties that he wished he had taken the time to appreciate on her.
Ryan was breathing heavily, watching as Terry kissed on her exposed stomach. He was serenading her with his lips, silently telling her how much he missed her.
The pillows of his lips moved from her stomach, down to her pelvis. He kissed the visible scar on the soft skin, one she got when she tried shaving without any guidance for the first time.
By the feel of his lips moving lower, Ryan was too anticipated to let him do what he wanted. She wasn't in the mood for foreplay.
“Terry, I don't need that now.” She whispered as she rested on her elbows, looking down at the earthiness of his eyes. Fuck him for being so beautiful.
“Hm? What you need then?”
Ryan shook her head, she knew what he wanted. He wanted her to explicitly tell him what she wanted. But how could she so boldly tell him that she wanted to be stuffed with his dick.
“Closed mouths don't get fed, baby. Gotta let me know what you want so I can give it to you.”
“I can't, T.” She reasoned softly.
“Yes you can, I know you can. You know why? Cause you're my baby, and my baby listens.”
Ryan sighed heavily, unable to understand why he couldn't just fuck her and call it a night. Now he was bringing all this Military obedience bullshit to her at the worst of times. It frustrated her.
“Terry, come on. Please.”
He noted her frustration, sighed in disappointment before he stood to his full height. “Okay baby.”
“We'll fix that some other time.”
And she knew that was a promise he was going to keep. Ryan smiled in relief, gasped suddenly when he kissed her feverishly.
This kiss was sloppy. They nipped at each other's lips before Ryan granted him access into her mouth.
And inevitably, allowed entrance into her leaking folds as well.
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It wasn't just his muscles that grew, his dick seemed to have gained an extra pound as well because it laid heavy inside her, stretching her out that she knew nobody would ever be able to fill his space, not that she wanted anybody to.
Ryan struggled to take it, regardless of the face that he was going slow, she still couldn't take it. The mushroom of her tip brushed carelessly at the soft tissue of her spot at every thrust, it had her recoiling backwards everytime he pulled out.
“Don't piss me off, Ryan. You wanted this right?” Terry gritted out, his grip on her hips tight as she rolled his hips up into her yet again. Slow, deep strokes. Just as she liked. “Hm? Answer me, baby.”
Her pussy was gold. Always has been, always will be. Ryan had no right to grip at him like that and expect him to let her run. You couldn't offer somebody candy and expect them not to indulge, it was inhumane, at least to Terry it was.
He had her holding her legs, presenting herself to him so she could watch where their hips met without obstruction. Ryan's essence pooled around her thighs and Terry's, leaked out everytime he pulled out the piping heat of her pussy to where his tip is all that stayed, before he dove his heavy dick back inside her so he could kiss her insides.
“Fuck. Y-yes I did.” Ryan managed to respond, her brows drawn together, her eyes too stuck on where they connected. Watched as rings of cream coasted the thick base of his dick. “Fat fuckin’ dick. Oh my… yess.” She whispered softly, throwing her head back, her grip on her thighs tightened ever so oftenly.
“And you love me, hmm baby? You love me don't you?”
“Yes yes yes yesss. Love you so much. Oh my God.” Ryan looked up at him with teary eyes.
“So don't run from what you love baby, don't run from me. Take this dick, there you go, girl. Pretty fuckin’ pussy.”
He fucked like a grown man now too. Before he left, Terry and Ryan had good sex, she wouldn't dispute that. But it never felt like this, he definitely missed her, and he sure as fuck was showing her just how much.
“So deep, so fuckin’ deep, T. Just like that.”
“Yeah? In your stomach baby?” Terry watched where his dick poked out on her stomach. But Ryan shook her head dumbly, he felt way beyond that. “In my- shittt. In my heart.”
“In your heart?” Terry laughed, the sound causing Ryan's walls to pulsate around as they clenched. That drew a hiss out of Terry before he continued. “Dick got you talkin’ dumb baby.”
Ryan moaned at that. Fuck she liked that, she liked that a lot. It made her ooze more of her juices, down her ass and onto the bed.
“Ease up mama, let me in.” Terry groaned, struggling to dig her out the way he wanted to because she gripped at his dick so tight, sucking him in with every thrust. “Open up, Ryan. Let Daddy in.”
“Shittt.” She creamed at that. Fuck he was so sexy, so so sexy she wanted to give him children. Ryan tried to open up more, but the heaviness of his dick made it hard. He was impaling her, and he expected her to make that easier for him?
Terry wrapped her legs around his waist, leaned lower, his elbows near either side of her head. Their foreheads touched and Ryan wasted no time touching on him.
He was angled so much deeper like this, but that wasn't what had her heart pumping. The way he looked at her, while slowly pumping her full of dick had her reciting her love for him all over again.
“I love you, love you so fuckin’ much, T.” She spoke with her eyes stuck on his, hands caressing his jaw as her mouth fell open at his pace. “Fuck yesss.”
“Fuck this pussy magic. Wanna die in it, wetting me up so good. Pretty baby, you so pretty Ry. You hear me? So so pretty. Love you, till death yeah?.”
And she believed him, believed that he would die for her because Terry has shown her his love, showed her that she deserves that kind of love, and that kind of love deserved her.
“Oh my God… I'ma cum. I'm cummin’ baby.”
“I know, I feel it baby, I feel you. Let it go, cum on your dick mama.” He coached her, leaving kisses on her face as he maintained the pace of his hips. He whispered profanities and sweet everything's in her ear as Ryan squeezed around him.
“Fuck fuck fuhhh. Oh my God, I love you.” She gasped when she gushed on him heavily. Her cum leaked out of her, damn near pushing Terry out of her walls. He fucked her through it, kissing her slightly sweaty skin.
He pulled away from her, rubbing her thighs lovingly and watched as she caught her breath. “Turn over, I ain't done.” Terry sent a small smack to the side of her thighs and laughed when he heard her whine but still as obedient as ever, oblige to his command.
On her elbows and knees, Ryan spread her legs slightly, earning an appreciative hum from Terry as he gripped at her plump ass.
“Look at you.” He said, eyeing the slick that covered her heat before blowing on her swollen bud. “She missed me, hmm?” he asked no one in particular, yet still, Ryan responded with a silent “Yes, Sir.” that had Terry grabbing the base of his dick. The sound of her accent didn't make this any better.
He sent a long stripe from her clit to her pulsating hole. Sucked her bud into his mouth and gave her pussy lazy kisses that left Ryan leaking again.
Ryan gripped at the sheets in front of her. This man was insatiable, and she knew that there was a long night ahead of her, if not a few days as well. “Shit shit shit, like that. Just like that.”
He hummed against her, the vibrations creating pressure waves inside of her, amplifying the pleasure that was being sent to her brain. “Taste so fucking good, look at this shit.” Terry said and spread her lips apart, before diving back in, slipping his pink muscle inside her and exploring more of her taste.
Ryan's thighs shook, almost causing her to fall out of the position. “Keep that fucking arch, Ryan. You hear me?”
She whined in response, pinched her eyes together from the slight overstimulation.
Terry was a noisy eater, slurping and slipping. Didn't even mind moaning at her taste, occasionally praising how much she got wet, how pretty her pussy looked, how much he loved her.
Once he was done with his oral loving, he teased Ryan's entrance with his tip. Slapped it against her clit a few times before sliding it between her folds.
Once he slowly plunged into her slowly, he threw his head back and whimpered shamelessly. The sound made Ryan smile to herself, loving how he expressed himself freely in that sense.
“Fuckk, not sure if I can hold off mama.” She muttered, pulled out then plunged back in again, the sight made his dick twitch. “Can't believe I went ten years without this pussy. Never again, okay baby?”
Terry began the relentless thrusting. Pulled her hips back against him, watching the recoil of her ass in appreciation. “Never again. Gon’ die in this shit if I have to.” His bottom lip sank between his teeth, watching himself enter her with more and more cream decorating his veiny dick.
Ryan was at a loss of words, couldn't speak as tears filled her eyes. Dick couldn't be this good. She understood now why women often fought for their men, there was no way she's ever letting up on this. Terry would get fucked up for even doing something as stupid as think of getting with another woman.
Naturally, she threw her ass back on him, because she missed him. And he deserved this, deserved so much more. “Fuckkk that's it, show out mama. Take your dick, just like that. Taking me so good, it's yours ain't it?”
The sound of skin clapping and squelching could be heard in the room, accompanied by the sound of their persistent moans and whimpers. Their declarations of love and praises.
“So big, stretchin’ me so much. Fuck, let up Terry.” Ryan cried out, reached behind her to push against his stomach. Terry ignored that, instead, he just slid back in deeper. He angled his hips that made him kiss her cervix with so much pressure. Ryan opened her mouth agape and her arm fell forward to grip the sheets.
"Why you fucking me like this?" She moaned out elongated, using the leverage of her elbows to pull her hips away from him. "Cause you deserve it. You deserve this nut, baby." Terry gritted out, so concentrated at the work he was putting between her thighs, watching the mesmerising waves on her ass every time their skin slapped. "Working so hard every damn day, takin' care of the house, the farm. You don't gotta worry bout that no more though, cause Daddy's home. You hear me, Ry?" Terry angled his hip in a way that dug her out in a way that would have had her promising babies, but she held off.
All she could do was nod, grip the sheets harder. Her moans leaking out her mouth like the faucet between her legs. "Mh mh, say it. Say Daddy's home baby."
“Daddy’s home… fuckkk daddy's home. I'm bout to cum.”
“Right behind you baby, cum with me baby. Hold it just a little longer.”
Ryan tried, she tried so hard to listen but she couldn't hold it. She began squirming on him, yelling chants of ‘I love you's’.
The feel of her clenching sent Terry over the edge. “Fuck fuck fuckk, I'm cummin’.” He grunted before he spilled inside her then fucked his nut inside her.
The two gathered their breath, catching a sense of time and space while coming down their highs.
Once Terry pulled out, Ryan believed she was done. “Sit up baby.” Terry called out gently, rubbing her back gently as she moved around the bed.
Once she was sat on the bed, she was face to face-to-face with his slick covered dick. He definitely was bigger, and the sight of his cum mixed with hers had her mouth watering.
Ryan looked up at Terry, the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You okay?” He asked for assurance to continue first, the ball was in her hands.
Ryan eagerly nodded. She wanted this, needed this even. “Clean me up then.” he ordered.
Hesitantly, she wrapped her hands around him. Even with both hands, his head still peaked out. The weight of it felt tantalising.
“Don't play around with that shit, Ry. Eat it up.”
Immediately, her lips wrap around his head, sucking gently. Her eyes met his when her tongue poked out to lick from her shaft to the base. They tasted good together, like a match made perfectly in heaven.
Ryan slid her mouth around him, sliding her lips lower as she inhaled. Her hands wrapped around what she couldn't fit into her mouth. He felt heavier on her tongue. “That's right, nice and slow. Ain't goin’ nowhere mama.” Terry watched with his lip caught between his teeth.
His brows furrowed as she took him with skill, just as he taught her all those years ago. Ryan began bobbing her head, her eyes already getting teary at the way he stretched her mouth open.
“Just like that. My baby getting me right. Take what you need.”
Ryan picked up the pace, slurping at his dick like it was her last meal, slowly easing him deeper in her throat, her nose slowly inching towards his pelvis.
“Look at you. Nasty ass, you love this dick Ryan?”
She nodded her head, hummed in response as well knowing that would drive him crazy. By now, she was damn near deep throating him, his tip kissing the back of her throat.
Ryan clenches her throat around his head which causes Terry to buck his hips forward. Ryan pulled away to get some air, breathing loudly as her hand twisted around the weight of the muscle.
She tapped the head against her tongue before sliding it back into her mouth.
Terry laughed, he wanted to be gentle, wanted to let her do her thing. But now she had him worked up, teasing him as if she wanted him to show out.
Gripping the back of her head, Terry pulled her away from him, before guiding her back towards his head.
“Breathe, baby. Breath.” He instructed, watching as Ryan nodded in understanding.
Terry slid into her mouth, watching her jaw relax as she breathed, right until her nose touched his pelvis. He heard her gag and relieved her by pulling out.
Tears adorned her eyelids, falling when she blinked up at him with spit running down her chin. “So good baby, you think you can do it?”
Ryan nodded her head. “Yeah, I can, promise. Please.”
“Mhm, ‘course you can.” He said before siding back into her mouth. “Love being slutted out, don't you mama. Mi get yuh, baby.”
The patois, fuck the patois. It wasn't often that she heard it before he left, only ever when he was angry. Then he spoke in patois, but during sex? Ryan has never heard it, and she's not sure she wanted him to stop.
Ryan hummed around his dick. He used her mouth for good measure. “You so pretty like this.” He praised as his thrusted into her mouth gently, loving the sight of her lips wrapping around him.
Ryan did a few tricks with her tongue, drawing him closer to his orgasm. “Fuckkk Ry. Fuck baby, I'm bout to nut. You gon catch it?” He asked breathlessly, brows pinched together as his grip on her head tightened.
Ryan moaned around him, her hands rested on top of his thighs. The room filled with sounds of gagging and Terry's moans.
It didn't fall unnoticed to Terry the hands that rested between Ryan's legs. She was playing with herself, smearing his nut between her fold as she rubbed leisure circles on her sensitive bud. Perhaps she liked Terry in her mouth more than she thought she did.
Terry laughed at that sight, pulled out of her mouth and heard as she gasped to take a breath. Ryan chased the head of his dick, clearly not happy with how soon it ended, he didn't even cum yet. Despite all the spit running down her chest and the tears that filled her eyes, she still wanted more.
Terry teased her, pulling her head back everytime she got close to having him back in her mouth. “Terry, come on.” She whispered desperately.
Hr knew she could get down and grimey if she wanted to. Terry knew that Ryan could fuck him to sleep if she wanted to, if only she could stop being so shy. They'd get there though, he'll make sure of it.
“It's right there baby, go head and take it.” He urged, tilting her head to see her face better. “Or you want me to give it to you?” Ryan immediately nodded her head, she liked him being rough, taking what he needed because he knew she would do nothing but give.
“You lazy as fuck Ryan. Daddy gon get you right, though.”
His hand let go of her hair, wrapped his hand around her neck instead, squeezed just enough to slow down the blood from going to her head.
Ryan felt a little lightheaded when Terry pulled her up to where she stood on her feet. Her hand wrap around his wrist, her eyes crossed eve so slightly when he squeezed tighter. “Fuck.” She whispered.
Terry pecked her lips. Once, twice, and a few more times. “You okay, baby?” He asked, releasing some tension on her neck but kept his hand there.
“Mhm, I'm fine. Thank you.” She smiled tiredly.
“Good. Cause I aint finished. Come sit on my face.”
“Terry. I'm tired, I got a lot of work tomorrow.” She shook her head incredulously. There was no way he could possible have that much energy. What water are they giving these men in the military?
“And ain't I say Daddy's home?. I'ma help with all that.” He tapped her thigh.
Ryan sighed and climbed over him on the bed, hovered over his face slightly, clearly worried about suffocating him.
“Don't play with me, Ryan. I said sit.”
Ryan rolled her eyes, happy he couldn't see her. “Sir, yes Sir.” She mumbled before lowering on his perfectly sculpted face, his eyes gazing up at her as he munched away between her thighs.
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purplelupins · 1 year ago
Text
Salvador
|Better Call Saul|
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Part I Part II
Word count: 17k
Lalo Salamanca x Fem!reader
Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.
Warnings: (this story has smut but not in part 1), slow burn, age gap, mentions of past domestic violence/toxic relationship, manipulation, intimidation, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready),Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings,
Notes: this is dedicated to my dear friend @mandowifey who was a massive part of the creation of this…couldn’t have done it without you🤍
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Even with a world on fire, we often dare to place our faith in the hands of someone who we hope we are not naive to trust. It is perplexing just what desire and blind devotion will drive a person to do. Even in our wildest dreams we cannot imagine what our actions will bring us, or who.
It is a daring game of chicken, so to speak. Seeing who will break first- you or life. Who will bend. Who will be kinder. Who will show love.
Love in and of itself is a treacherous thing. It’s beauty when it is alive and blazing, and the sorrow it brings when it whithers and putrefies.
And you knew it all.
All too well.
There was something comforting in standing under the baking sun of the southern state of New Mexico. With just a suitcase that held a toothbrush, bandages, $3026.50 and a change of clothes, you felt like a little waif from a book published centuries ago. Malnourished, exhausted, nerves shot half way to hell, and bruises still healing. You hoped there was a childish charm to how you looked, but you knew that hope was silly; you resembled more of a drug addict than a stubborn child that wouldn’t come home for supper.
“-miss?”
The first half of whatever had just been asked of you was lost on you; after you had nearly frozen to the spot after exiting the airport, numerous strangers had stopped to ask if you were alright. You forced your eyes to refocus, and found that you were being spoken to by an older woman who looked half irritated and half perturbed. Despondency had that effect on people.
“…I’m- I’m sorry…what?” You managed. Perhaps the Albuquerque sun had begun to bake your brain.
The woman sighed. She was decidedly more irritated. “Christ, I just asked if you were taking this cab!” She said, nodding to the yellow vehicle that was just several feet from you.
You stared at her, then offered her a small smile and shook your head. “It’s all yours.”
There was an uncomfortable lightness to your voice as you fought to stay connected to your body and not float away to Mars. Even you knew it. You didn’t sound like you. Hell you didn’t even look like you.
The woman said something about you taking long enough to answer something simple, but if you were honest you were proud of yourself for even being able to answer her. Just 10 hours ago you had been unable to even form a sentence as your body was plagued with panic; frantically packing what you needed in the span of 5 and a half minutes while your boyfriend - now ex- had been on the phone in the other room. You could still hear the sound of him yelling your name as you jumped in your car and peeled down the street before he could hurt you anymore.
Your heart still hurt from how hard it had been beating.
The taxi pulled away and you watched it go. A warm breeze slipped up your legs, and once it brushed your finger tips, you felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped from a hundred feet above you with you as it’s sole target.
Your eyes stung.
Your fists clenched.
But you had no more tears. Not for him anyway.
You might morn the death of who you used to be…the bright young girl who had a sparkle in her eyes and had yet to see the devil. Your heart broke when you thought of her.
But there was no blood…no body…nothing left to even hint that she was there to begin with. And there was nothing you could do about it.
•Three months later•
“Mrs. Creaner, I know the water tastes funny but I told you- you can’t keep asking your granddaughter to smuggle in alcohol now hand it over.”
“This is supposed to be a free country…” she grumbled as she rooted around over her thigh in her wheel chair, and produced the flask.
You suppressed a smirk at her antics, and held out your hand.
“Ma’am your granddaughter is 7 years old.” You sighed, handing her a styrofoam cup as she begrudgingly handed you the little metal flask.
“Smarter than a lot of you in here too.” She folded her arms and slumped in her wheelchair, “If you’re going to take that from me at least do your job and take me to bingo.”
You nodded and took the handles of the chair and began to push.
The job opening at Casa Tranquila had been a godsend to you all those months ago. Living out of a cheap motel was not ideal, and working in a comfortable retirement care facility on the outskirts of Albuquerque was just what your nerves needed. It certainly came with its difficulties, namely mediating your emotions and avoiding getting your ass pinched, but it paid your bills and gave you a great sense of purpose. In some way it made you feel as if you actually had a family that cared about whether you woke up in the morning.
It was no dream job, but it was what you needed. It kept you occupied and kept the heavy sense of loneliness at bay.
“- we do have to move you. Hector come on now, it’s just like everyday.” Came the voice of one of the senior nurses, Ellie.
You glanced over your shoulder and watched as she wheeled a very displeased elder man in the same direction as you were walking Mrs. Creaner. With careful steps so as to not trip, you turned and cast the man a greeting glance.
“Good afternoon Hector.” You said simply but cheerfully, then nodded to your co-worker in acknowledgement.
The man’s permenant frown twitched.
Hector Salamanca was a fairly new addition to the home, having been emitted just two months after you had started. And if you were honest, he was disliked; staff and patients found him difficult to deal with- which you found unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he could only communicate via the tapping of a single finger, blinking and limited facial expressions. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t coherent too, you knew very well that whoever Hector was before his stroke, he was still very much present behind those greying brown eyes. Certainly he was a grumpy old man, but if you had been in his position you were certain you wouldn’t exactly be a peach.
If anyone took a moment to watch most of the residences, they’d see just how alive most of them were despite their aging bodies; Hector was no different. He had fellow patients who he disliked; enjoyed knocking various objects over to make nurses have to bend over; he had his specific things he liked and didn’t like.
He was still every bit a red blooded man.
And while you weren’t one to play favourites, he was probably the closest thing to it.
You liked that he didn’t hide himself away. He was brash and blunt in his ways- non-verbal or not. Then there was a loneliness in his life that reflected your own; kindred spirits in a way. It pained you to see it at an old age like his. He had very few visitors, aside from when he had initially been dropped off by two men who must have been identical twins. You knew he couldn’t be all bad, and knew that a great deal of his anger must have come from his lack of contact to what family he had, and his inability to communicate. He was only human.
Just as you had expected, Hector made no move to acknowledge that he had heard your greeting. As per residence policy, each client was called by their first name, but since the first day you met that man, you had noted that he seemed more displeased by the informality. He looked furious when he had been wheeled around that first day and introduced as Hector; corners of his mouth pulled tight and down to his chin, eyes wild, nose twitching. Irate.
Your suspicions were only reinforced when you “accidentally” called him Señor Salamanca; he had actually looked you in the eye. A rare occurrence.
With that level of pride, you pondered that he must have been respected or feared before being placed under your care…or simply had a massive ego. And if he wasn’t around for that much longer and was barely existing, you saw little issue with making him feel like his old self by addressing him more formally.
Hector didn’t like a lot of people. Didn’t tolerate them. But he liked you.
Plus you gave him the best jello flavours.
Once the senior nurse placed him in the spot she deemed appropriate, you watched her walk away before dipping your head down to his level, like you always did.
“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said, and smiled when you saw his head twitch ever so slightly in your direction. And that smile only grew when you saw him tap his finger. You hoped it was his way of returning the greeting, either that or he wanted to tell you to shove said greeting where the sun don’t shine.
You hoped he was saying hello. You hadn’t accomplished a great deal in your short life, and you liked to think that making the grouch at work a little happy could be added to your list.
Your days looked very much the same. A nightmare would wake you up at 5am almost every morning, as much as you hated to admit it. You hated how small you felt. Visions of being back with him, under his thumb and living to please him with no favour returned…no love to feel. His voice in your head…his manipulations. You often awoke with your stomach in knots.
You could never get back to sleep after.
By the time the alarm you set sounded at 6am, you would be ready to leave your small apartment. Then it was a half hour drive to work. At Casa Tranquila, you would check in, bring your assigned patients their morning medication and start their routine. The same faces came and went, it was almost a blur some days. But you loved the blur. You needed it. Your mind had only started to heal once your days became blurs that bled into each other, and you were uncertain of what might happen if you changed that.
You pulled your keys from the ignition, and took a long breath deep into your chest. You felt an ache in your chest with how full your lungs were, and only released when you began to feel lightheaded.
Another day.
Having finished with the lunch duties, you took a moment to stretch your back in the nurse’s station before squaring your shoulders like you were tougher than you were. You began your rounds, checking on each elder during visiting hours, and went to enter the main seating area when you stopped short of the simple room.
Your feet ceased to move.
Your eyes went wide.
For the first time since you had met Hector Salamanca, there was someone sitting with him that wasn’t paid to.
A man, to be specific.
He was knelt down in front of Hector with his back to you, and spoke with an almost child-like glee to him. A ringing formed in your ears, and it took you a long minute to finally realize the ringing was not just in your ears at all; the crisp sound of a service bell rang out in the room, and as you stared, you came to find that the sound was coming from…Hector.
Indeed there was a small bell catching the sunlight on the arm of his chair right where his mobile finger usually sat.
You felt happiness fill you as the initial shock subsided. It was a mutual loneliness that had made you take interest in Hector to begin with, and you foolishly hoped that perhaps someone would cure your solitude like this man cured his.
You were staring.
Evidently too long as well, as another harsh ring snapped you out of whatever trance you had been in. Now, however, you could see Hector’s harsh gaze on you- his mouth twitching as he rung the bell again. Clearly having Hector not fully pay attention to him made the man pause whatever he had been discussing. He murmured something to the elder man, and Hector rang his bell again.
You told yourself to just keep walking. But you couldn’t.
The man sat before your patient seemed to catch on, and followed his gaze, which lead to him turning his head, and finally seeing you.
It was his eyes that struck you first.
They glittered like warm honey.
The man looked between you and Hector and murmured something to him, which was met with the usual verbal silence, then he muttered something else and it resulted in a ring. You hoped to God that meant something positive because you had just noticed yet another man standing who you had never seen before standing just a few feet behind the crouched man. He looked very much like some kind of body guard, rather than a friend or family; your heartbeat picked up and you began to wonder just who Hector was. Certainly you had thought he must have been the head of a family and perhaps a business owner, but there was something so militant about the way this man standing there was guarding them.
It couldn’t have been longer than 7 seconds since you had become rooted to the spot, but it certainly felt worlds longer. Once you realized you had frozen, you blinked and forced a polite smile onto your face as you continued your path.
“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said as casually as you could, hoping your nerves didn’t seep through. You hoped you would be able to make it past the men without incident, and you thought you had…but then another ring struck your nerves. There was a pause followed by murmuring, which you didn’t understand but went something along the lines of:
“¿Me estás diciendo que te las arreglaste para que esta linda niña cuidara al tío? Creo que pronto tendré que retirarme y unirme a vosotros, ¿sí?” then another few rings followed by a laugh.
His laugh- the man with the glittering eyes.
You had no idea what he had said, but something about the way he said it made a warmth creep up the back of your neck, and spread to your cheeks at the sound-
Snap
You stopped.
Snap
You turned far more jerkily than you wanted, and to your horror, the man crouching was now staring back at you intently with that smile still on his face, albeit more curt. He held his hand out and beckoned you over with two fingers. You swallowed, but fought to keep your face pleasant. Visitors didn’t usually interact with staff unless they needed something, or it was time for them to go…and you hoped this was one of the two.
You came to stand a few feet from the men, wanting to remain respectful, “Hola gentlemen, it’s nice to see Sr. Salamanca having some visitors.” The professional grin on your face didn’t reach your eyes. You were too nervous for that.
“My tio was just talking about you.” He told you brightly, “Says you’ve been looking after him, hm?” The kneeling man seemed to have no issue with dominating a conversation; you chanced a glance at the bald man standing, but he barely reacted. Goosebumps sprang up on your arms when you looked back at Hector’s nephew; unfamiliar with the direct attention.
“Well I…it’s what I’m here for, Señor.” You managed. There was something about this man that made it difficult to look away. The way his dark hair was combed neatly, and how the stripe of grey on the crown of his head swept into a curl that barely stayed back; how his brown eyes looked black in the shadows, and how the deep lines on his face made his expressions so defined; how his smile stretched so charmingly; how when he stared at you it was like only the two of you existed.
He scared you.
And he could tell.
He wagged his finger at you, “Ahh a humble girl, eh? If my tio likes you that’s good enough for me, niña…but you know- this is perfect!” He smiled even wider as he spoke almost animatedly, but you noted how the smile failed to reach his eyes now. “‘Cause now I’ll know just who to come to if my tio needs anything.” The man’s smile fell to rest as he blinked up at you, speaking so casually, yet you couldn’t help but note the menacing undertone of his words. Your brain was working overtime as you tried to piece things together; all you could come up with was that you didn’t want to upset anyone or say the wrong thing. You were certain these men were not your ordinary visitors, and you didn’t want to find out anything beyond that.
“Consider me accountable, Señor.” You heard yourself say.
A moment passed, and you so desperately wanted to break the stare he gave you, but then it as if nothing had happened when his stellar grin returned. He barked out a laugh at you.
“Esta niña, lo juro...” he said to the man standing, then turned back to you, “Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo.” He beamed. His smile was infectious and you found the corners of your mouth tugging up a little, despite your nerves.
Like a wolf lulling a lamb into false security.
There was something expectant in his gaze as he told you his name, and you assumed it was him waiting to know yours. Tit for tat. The theatrical, charming nature of him coupled with whatever made his smile resemble a predator’s made your stomach flip. He was both sides of a coin simultaneously, and you struggled to process it.
“Y/n…y/n l/n.” You replied to him. Lalo repeated your name a few times, rolling it around in his mouth. Your eyes felt glazed over as you listened to him; like he was hypnotizing you. You hadn’t even noticed how you were wringing your hands, nor how you hadn’t torn your gaze from his.
Lalo patted his uncle’s arm after a moment, “You said no one’s visited my Tio?” His face turned inquisitive and concerned, though almost cartoonish. Like there was a joke you were missing.
You shook your head as you snapped back to your body. Somehow your anxiety was starting to fade, and you chalked it up to having a name to put to his face- it made him feel more human to you, “No. I- I almost started to wonder if- if he had family, Señor Lalo.”
He nodded, which caused the curl of grey in his hair to finally fall over his forehead. Your eyes instantly latched onto it.
He was handsome.
Then faster than lightning, Lalo turned and shot a look to the man standing, then nodded his head understandingly. Almost as if to check with the man to see if what you said was true.
“That will change…you know, you should see us Salamancas- we breed like rats.” He said proudly, and chuckled.
He had a nice voice. Rough and low with an easiness to it.
You felt your cheeks warm at his statement, then nodded and remembered to blink. “Well…I’m happy to hear that- that people will come t-to see him that is.” You murmured, stumbling to correct yourself.
You watched his smile pull into a boyish smirk and you looked down to wipe away a nonexistent fluff from your uniform.
“I promise, you’ll have to smoke me and Nacho outta here. I’m looking after the family business so you’ll see lots of us.” He laughed, and nodded to the man behind him.
You looked at the other man, and smiled a little as if to aknowledge his presence. The stare he gave back to you was…bordering on sympathetic. Not what you expected.
You suddenly felt as if you were bordering on something you shouldn’t, despite your softness for the elder Salamanca.
You decided to trust your intuition.
“Well…I don’t want to intrude on your visit anymore. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it…Sr.Salamanca’s nurse should be by to take him in a little while.” You gave both men a small smile and nodded to Hector, who frowned deeper at the mention of his caregiver.
Lalo seemed to notice the change, and his smile dropped a little in curiosity. You sighed, and came a little closer to Lalo so no one would hear, “Sr.Salamanca doesn’t like her…and between you and me I think he’ll be even more Uh…vocal about it with this beautiful bell.”
Lalo’s eyes went comically wide, but the smile tugging under his moustache betrayed him. He was ecstatic. “Really? Will that be an issue?”
You noticed he didn’t clarify if he was talking about the bell or the nurse.
His charisma began to draw you back in, and you shook your head, “There won’t be an issue.”
He nodded and clapped his thigh, “Excellent!”
His reaction seemed to put you at ease, not that it should have. This man was playful in a very odd way and you didn’t know if feeling comfortable around him was a good thing. But you weren’t sure how long you would keep up with his banter, so you excused yourself.
“Right, well…enjoy the rest of your visit.” You smiled slightly again at both men, and backed away before turning and walking quickly out of the foyer. Your hands were shaking- you weren’t used to such direct conversation- with a stranger at that.
You heard Lalo say say “Adios!” to you, and you cast a quick smile back, but you didn’t stop. Panic began to rise in you as you recalled the last time someone had shown you such an amount of charm…the bastard had eaten you up and you had had to crawl out of his stomach. And there you were: hiding.
As soon as you were down the hall and out of view, you gasped and braced against the wall; your heart was working over time.
“You alright sweetie?” One of the male nurses stopped next to as you as he passed. A nice older man named Jim.
You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, “Y-yeah, thank you…just one of those days.” You reassured him. The man pursed his mouth, but didn’t press anymore as he nodded sympathetically. It was was well known that you were a private person, and you appreciated when someone respected that.
As your chest slowly unclenched, you felt your head grow light. Your poor nerves were so shot that you truly were unsure as to whether that man was just charming and witty, or if he was just trying to get in your head. You couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine interaction and a narcissistic one anymore.
You rolled his name over in your head, and found that you enjoyed how it sounded.
Lalo…
You found yourself mentally throttling your brain over how it began to assume the worst. That you had chosen to lightly insert yourself into an old man’s life when you shouldn’t have; that you were being selfish. Stupid. Dependant. All of the above. You felt the weight of your guilt strain on your shoulders, and you let it.
You were being selfish and childish. You didn’t have a family, and you needed to stop pretending you did just because an old man didn’t hate you.
A little over a week passed since you met Hector’s eccentric nephew, and you had to admit that he had entered your mind a few times despite you actively not trying to think of that family. You felt a pang of hurt in your chest every time you did. You had no business envying them- it wasn’t your place.
That Wednesday was a very pleasant day; there was a light breeze that cooled the air and dried the sweat that gathered on your brow. You rounded the corner of the main living area that fed out into the patio, and as you stepped out, the fresh air made you inhale deeply. As you looked up and down the outside area, you felt yourself pause. He was back. You were met with the amusing sight of Lalo Salamanca retrieve a flask, pour out the jello vitamin mix that sat in front of Hector, and pour a hefty serving of liquor inside the cup. You almost laughed. These elderly people loved their alcohol.
For a couple seconds, you allowed yourself to take in Lalo’s appearance. You knew he was handsome since you first saw him, but you felt as if you could appreciate just how well he cared for himself now. A rich purple polo that pulled tight around his biceps…neat hair and moustache, a polished gold necklace just peaking out against his chest-
Stop it.
You shook yourself and forced your mind to push any thoughts of him out. Your trust in your ability to judge a character was under great scrutiny every since…since you got away.
This man was charming, and that was it.
It was company policy for no alcohol to be on the premises, but instead of making Hector’s day even more miserable, you let him have a few sips as you stayed just out of their view until Lalo hid the flask. Once you stepped out, you let your professional smile settle onto your tired face.
“Good afternoon Señor Salamanca, Señor Lalo.” You greeted them; your nerves were already starting to amp up in his proximity, but you managed to speak with a little less discomfort than last time.
As if to return the greeting, you heard Hector’s bell sound just as the younger of the two turned to you and smiled, “Ahh the humble señorita.” Lalo leaned an arm over the back of his chair- opening his stance. His voice was a pleasant rumble in the back of his throat. You noted that he appeared to be far more at ease this visit. First visits were often the hardest for family- seeing their loved ones in a nursing-home could be a difficult pill to swallow.
Lalo continued, “You got a pretty sweet deal here.” He look at around appraisingly as he took in the patio. Admittedly it was one of the more favoured sections of the home and recently renovated. But he was right, it wasn’t that bad of a facility.
“I can’t complain too much.” You agreed, and folded your hands in front of yourself as you stood between the men. Lalo’s personality was far louder than what you were used to, and the part of you that craved human connection urned to keep up with him; once upon a time you might have had the ability…but not anymore. You admired how quick and bright-burning he was- like a firecracker.
Lalo smiled. “Polite.”
Your brow furrowed, “Sorry?”
He shook his head- smile growing- and looked at Hector then back to you, “Hey there’s nothing wrong with it- you’re humble too…you some kinda saint? You gotta be to work in a place like this- I’d lose my mind.” He laughed and leaned more into his chair.
His statement made you pause for a moment. It wasn’t that far off from the truth- the need for patience that is.
“Taking care of someone can mean accepting them like a part of your family…there’s a real selflessness that you have to find in you, Señor Lalo. For myself it’s a bit easier than most…I-I don’t exactly have much of a family, so Hector fills a pretty big void at the moment.” You said simply. It was the honest truth. You shared your patient’s happy moments and their worst moments; they trusted you with their well-being, so it was only fair that you cared for them blindly- job or not.
It was no small admission- to say that you were isolated- but Lalo had a way about him that loosened your tongue.
He stared up at you for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, “Be careful with a Salamanca, we bite.” He pointed at you playfully, though you gathered that while he was indeed teasing, there was a more serious connotation to his words.
Lalo’s dark eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded you.
“Even you, Señor Lalo?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, and watched him shyly.
The older man’s smile formed into an amused smirk, “Klah- me? Never.” He scoffed, but his bright eyes betrayed him.
This man was trouble.
Your lips tugged upwards as you nodded to both men; his jest was not lost on you. It was as if he wished you would ask him how hard his bite was, but you knew that would likely be a poor choice on your part. “Prey can bite too, Señor,” you quipped.
Evidently your response surprised the man as his thick brows rose up. You felt regret pull at you for engaging in his game, but you didn’t want to immediately back down. Shock was a nice expression to see on a man so sure of himself. You nodded to both men, and took a step back, “Enjoy your visit, Señors.”
You continued your route, and made your way onto your next check-up; the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your skull followed you as you went, and a few eager dings from Hector’s bell rang in your ears.
When you finished with one of your oldest patients, Thomas Lee - who did not get along with Hector at all- you tentatively looked back at the far table; it was empty now. Even Hector was gone. You sighed and pursed your mouth, knowing you were playing with fire with this man. A part of you hoped that he would stop coming, or visit on your couple days off.
Stupid.
You were being stupid, and that was that.
The day ended like every single one before that. With you and your coworkers exhaused, hungry, covered in sticky grime, and back sore. You stood in front of your locker, taking a drink from your bottle when another attendant you knew walked to hers. Samantha…yes, her name was Samantha.
“Hey.” You greeted her, smiling sympathetically at eachother.
“Going home too?” She asked as he took her hair down from its curly bun.
You nodded and retrieved your bag, hoping you had something in your fridge to eat. “Sure am…”
She unlocked her locker and smiled a little, “Saw you talking to that visitor of Hector’s today…he’s not bad on the eyes hey?” She smiled.
You felt your cheeks flush, “Oh, yeah…hes nice.” You replied, not wanting to get into it…but then a thought crossed your mind. “Sam?” You asked her.
She turned to you and nodded. “Mhm?”
“Do…do you know anything about Hector? Ab-about his family?” You murmured, looking up at her.
Her brows hopped up and she shuffled a little closer to you, “Mr. Salamanca?” She confirmed.
You nodded after a moment, not fully certain you were ready, but your curiosity was too strong.
Sam looked around briefly, “Well…I mean you know we’re not supposed to really ask questions or anything…” she began, “…but…I’ve heard a few things.” Sam nodded her head and you noticed her playfulness lessened.
You turned to her fully now and gave her your full attention…she seemed to understand that you were curious. That, and she had been trying to talk to you properly for months and was likely over the moon that you weren’t being skittish.
“I- I’d like to know…” you said a little more gently than you usually did.
She sighed, and nodded. “Apparently…those guys that dropped Hector off were really strange…didn’t speak, and just gave Ronny- the reception guy, remember he quit last month? Yeah him, anyways…they gave him this folder with all of Hector’s information and there was no spot open for the old fart…but after a few phone calls, there was suddenly a spot open. It was so weird, but- I don’t know…” she stopped her speculation but you wanted to hear more.
“Please- it- it’s okay, this is between us.” You reassured her, and you meant it. You had expected her to just brush you off or say no, but now it was as if the name Salamanca was a curiosity to you all.
A beat passed before Sam finished with her locker and shut it. “It just…I don’t speak much Spanish but they always speak so secretively…just…I don’t know they might just be talking about family gossip but sometimes it’s fun to imagine they’re actually some…I don’t know a mafia or cartel family or something.”
As the words left her mouth, you felt the blood drain from your face. Everything that struck you as strange flashed before your eyes and it began to make sense-
“But honestly they’re probably just weird- you should see my folks, they’re nuts. I just like to make stories up for everyone to make the days go faster! See you tomorrow.” She smiled and walked past you, leaving you there with this new possibility weighing heavy on you.
Once you finally pulled yourself from the locker room, and waved a few dazed goodbyes to the staff you saw, you stepped outside and walked out to the parking lot. Your car keys caught on your nurse’s mask as you pulled them from your bag and you tsked them. You were preoccupied with the task as you made your way in the direction of where you parked, and once you freed them and looked up, you froze in the middle of the parking lot.
You knew that curl of grey anywhere. Lalo stood leaning against your car, with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face pointed at you. Since meeting him, You had yet to see him stand up, and now at his full height, his sturdy frame overpowered you even from a few meters away. He was tall and broad and confident, and you felt very small all of a sudden.
“So! Where are we going?” He said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t even try to hide it.
“Wha-?” You asked as you managed to go closer.
He rolled his eyes “C’mon- you hungry? I’m famished.” He stood away from the hood, and his tone was so persuasive you almost forgot about what Sam had said.
Almost.
You shook your head and tried to be as friendly as you could in an effort to hide how your hands shook, “Really it’s alright, I’m —“
His smile finally dropped. “Get in.”
His statement made you contemplate running. Getting back inside the retirement home and locking yourself in a closet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t end well. Hell you doubted you’d even make it a few paces from him before his big hand grabbed your hair. So against your better judgement, you nodded and wordlessly handed him the keys.
“There she goes, Atta girl.” He smiled again, and accepted the keys joyfully; this time the creases around his eyes deepened. Lalo slid into the drivers side and started the car. As he went to back out, he cast a look around the inside, and seemed to note that you didn’t take the best care of the car.
“You need a tool box?” He asked.
You buckled yourself in and barely caught what he said as you mentally screamed at yourself for getting in the car. Were you really that stupid? “Wha- huh? Oh-“ you caught where he was looking and cursed yourself for being so sloppy.
You backseat housed several materials you carried with you in case you car broke down -which it had the tendency to do. A pair of wire cutters wrapped in duct tape and some pliers to match, a lug wrench, a jack and a pylon…not to mention a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’m…I uh…just haven’t had the time.” You murmured, “Sorta new here.”
The older man frowned exaggeratedly and rose his brows as if to say “Alright then.” And silently put the car in reverse. He backed out with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your seat, and you had no choice but to smell his scent…you didn’t know if it was cologne or something else but he smelled of smoke and whiskey…and something sweet like syrup. Like he had been sitting in front of a fire drinking after dessert.
“So! Why don’t you tell me about yourself.” Lalo navigated easily through the streets, and looked over at you like you were old friends.
You thought for a moment, having taken an interest in a hangnail on your thumb. “Not much to tell, Señor.” You said as you looked up. It wasn’t a lie. Your story was a sad one and not a terribly interesting one at that.
“Cmon.” He dragged the word out, “You said you count my Tio as family…any normal person wouldn’t say that in a million years.” The older man laughed and tilted his head to chase your gaze a little when you averted your eyes.
“Why do you say that?” You asked as you looked down again.
Lalo gave you a pointed look. “Smart girl like you can figure that out, niñita.”
You sighed. It wasn’t as if you could just walk away from the conversation…he had you. Regardless of his motivations, Lalo was undoubtedly protective of his uncle…and you had to respect that. You wished you knew what it was like to have someone so protective, but you could imagine it was liberating.
“You think I have some kind of alterier motive behind my kindness to your uncle.” You said simply, trusting your intuition.
Lalo looked out the window, and you wondered if he had even heard your answer.
“You hungry?” He asked, pointing to a burger joint as he already turned his indicator on to pull in.
The sudden change in topic made you blink, your brain lagging. “I-…sure. Don’t stop on my account though I have food at home.” You squeezed your hands out of anxiousness, but he was already going to the drive thru. You had completely forgotten about how hungry you were for the last hour when you saw him in the parking lot. Now seeing the menu, your stomach growled.
“Whatdya want?” He asked expectantly.
It felt so…domestic. You had gone from being certain you might end up being interrogated in a warehouse to him taking you for food in a matter of seconds. You felt your stomach tighten with unease at the memory of the last person who had taken you through a drive thru; that time however you had been disassociating so badly you didn’t even remember ordering nor eating. Ungrateful he had called you.
Snap snap
Your eyes refocused and saw a large hand in front of your face having just snapped a couple times to get your attention.
You swallowed and sighed to steady yourself.
“What’s good here?” You asked, turning to him.
One of his full brows was raised at your odd behaviour, but his face went back to his playful demeanour instantly. “Depends…but their number 2 and number 8 are good.”
You nodded thoughtfully, “What do you get?”
He held up two fingers, pulling the car up through the drive thru to the speaker, “I’m from the south though so I like to add extra spice. Burns your mouth right off but god it’s worth it, you know?” The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened when he smiled and spoke.
Your couldn’t help but return the smile a little at him. You gathered he could probably befriend anyone he set his sights on. A people person…regardless of how intimidating he was.
“I’ll get the same…but um, I think I’d like to keep my mouth.” You said the last part a little shyly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence.
Lalo laughed, “Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing how red your pretty face would get!”
You…were not expecting that. You didn’t have time to reply or ask him to repeat himself before he was leaning out the window and adding extra fries to your order.
“You ever been to Mexico?” Lalo asked as he started driving again up to the window.
You shook your head, “No…haven’t been to a lot of places.”
He gasped, “No! Really? Ahh man, you’d love it. Best food in the world.”
When the window came into view you instinctively reached for your purse when you saw Lalo already producing a $20, and re-pocketing a wad of cash. He tsked you when he noticed you.
The woman at the window handed him the two bags of food and drinks and he smiled charmingly. “Gracias!” Lalo beamed, depositing your order in your lap, then began his way through the city again.
“Plain number 2 for you and fun number 2 for papi, you like orange? I got you an orange soda, you’re gonna love it. Used to smuggle these bastards when I was a kid…my Tio beat the shit outta me for it.” He laughed as he handed you the drink; shaking his head as he steered the car one handed and rifled through his paper bag with the other.
You accepted the orange coloured soda, brows shooting up. He was…generous. The smell of the burger hit you, and you felt your mouth water. It had been ages since you had a proper meal, even if it was take-out. You tentatively took your food out, and took a bite. You swore stars erupted in front of your eyes as the taste filled your mouth; pleasure sensors in your brain lighting up.
The older man beside you watched you out of the corner of his eye as he ate and drove. A proficient multitasker. You were hungry. Seemingly non-threatening…skittish…but you weren’t off-putting. Tired. Definitely tired.
Lalo pulled off the main road and began the drive into the neighbourhoods; he continued to take the occasional bite of his food as he drove. You wondered how he could be so relaxed constantly. You wondered if he had a single tense bone in his body. He was always at ease…like he was always 10 steps ahead of everyone. He was handsome, and you wondered if he used that as a distraction for what lay underneath; perhaps he was a calculating, plotting and scheming man under all the smiles and goofy theatrics…
Your food was gone within 5 minutes.
When Lalo finally looked over at you, he barked out a pleased laugh when he saw the empty wrapper and your last few fries in your hand.
“Shit, I’d better be careful or you might eat me!” He joked, and took a sip of his soda.
You hadn’t realized it but your shoulders had dropped and your fists had unclenched. You were relaxed.
And the older man beside you knew it.
“Tell me…what do you know about us Salamancas.” He said as if he was commenting on the weather.
You knew the question was coming, how could he not ask?
You put your drink down, and thought carefully. “You’re all very…intense.” You replied.
Lalo laughed, “Good one. What else?”
This time you fiddled with a napkin still in your lap. You didn’t want him to think you actually knew anything, because you honestly didn’t. You used your brain and speculated and observed, but you didn’t know much at all. You knew Hector likes grape jello more than raspberry and that Lalo’s necklace was that of Saint Anne- the Mother of Santa Maria…but that was the extent of what you knew for certain.
“You run some kind of business…here in Albuquerque…and I…I think you’re not just some nobody with an uncle in a nursing home…” You murmured almost to yourself. You half hoped he would ask you to repeat yourself so you could come up with something else…but his ears were as sharp as a fox.
“Ahh see, clever girl. I thought so.” His smile slowly faded into a calm line. “Why do you care for my Tio? Don’t tell me he’s your type- you’ll break my heart.” Lalo’s cheeky grin came back.
The jest did lighten your anxiety a little, just as the food had, but you noted that he ignored the mention it the business. He was evasive. And he was charming while he did it.
You knew Lalo had his doubts about you…even if it was for the home itself and not just you, you were th# lucky bastard who he had chosen to interrogate. If you wanted him to understand exactly why it was that you were so at ease with caring for grumpy elderly people - specifically Hector- you needed him to see your perspective. If this was any other relative of a patient, you would have jumped out of the car or booked it before he could have even gotten you inside…but you had a nagging feeling that the only way this would end well was if you saw it through. No matter how painful it was.
“You didn’t see him for the last 2 months, Señor…” You said gently, “He’s…he’s been alone. Completely. No visitors, no friends amongst the other patients…he’s- well non-verbal patients have a difficult time as it is…but paralysed one’s have it even harder…and I- well…I don’t exactly have anyone…at all really. Don’t have contact with anyone so…I think there’s just a certain level of recognition between people who are alone. I’ve been looking after Hector for two months now…you don’t know how hard it is to see him sit alone during visiting hours- for any of my patients that have to do that for that matter. I wouldn’t wish loneliness on my worst enemy, Señor. He didn’t have anyone and if he died tomorrow I wouldn’t sleep knowing he didn’t at least think someone cared enough to look after him, blood related or not.”
You meant it. You knew your fate was likely destined to be a lonely one, but if you could change that for someone else, then you were going to do your damned best…of course you had to chose a more complicated person but it wasn’t as if you were a terribly lucky person.
Lalo didn’t take his eyes off the road, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that you realized you were outside your little apartment building. Lalo tapped on the steering wheel for a moment, then he turned in his seat to face you.
“You mean that?” He asked, turning his gaze to you.
You went to open your mouth but he gave you a look that pinned you to the spot. He didn’t need to say anything for him to convey “don’t fuck around with me.”.
“You seem to be a busy man, Señor…maybe a wife or even a family,” You mused aloud while you ripped a piece of napkin. Your distracted gaze meant you missed how Lalo’s nostrils flared when you mentioned him having a family, “You must have a comfortable life…one way or another. But not everyone has that. A lot of people don’t. I…I don’t have much…my work is my life right now. Sure they’re not the most lively people to engage with but my patients mean a lot to me…because they take up a lot of my life…and after- well…right now I don’t mind it.” You said with conviction, then sighed, “Sounds sad now that I say it aloud…but don’t doubt me.” You turned to look at Lalo in those dark eyes of his, “Don’t you dare doubt me.”
As you spoke, Lalo’s mouth faded into a firm line under his moustache. But even then, his eyes glittered. He was quiet for a few moments, then he hummed.
“You got a mouth on you, kid.” He rumbled.
You held his stare for a moment. You were certain you had crossed a line with telling him off.
Then, just when you were certain he might jump on you or worse, he broke out in a laugh and smile, smacking the wheel in amusement, “I see why Hector likes you. You got a bite for being a ratoncito…I’d hate to see someone knock your teeth out.” He dropped your keys in your hand and in one fluid motion opened his door and stepped out.
His sense of humour was borderline morbid, but seeing him smile while saying it more reassuring than him not.
You followed suit, and stepped out of the car; Lalo joined you on the sidewalk as he seemed to inspect the neighbourhood. Then as he stood there with his hands at his sides, you remembered that he had no way of getting back to his own car at the nursing home.
“I- Thank you for driving me home, Señor…can I- can I call you a cab?” You didn’t know what else to say. This man had practically interrogated you, bought you dinner, and drove you home. You didn’t know what to do with an interaction like that; we’re you supposed to run and hide or thank him?…or both? You didn’t know why, but regardless of his intentions, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be scared of him…not really. He was intimidating and imposing, certainly, but it wasn’t as if he was threatening you.
You hated that you couldn’t come to a concise evaluation of the man.
Lalo shrugged and looked down at you. “Nah.” He said playfully.
Your brows scrunched up in confusion and you were about to protest, but then a red car pulled up almost directly behind him with the same man who had been standing with him that first day. Nacho? Nacho.
“Señor Lalo?” You called as he opened the door. The older man turned to you and looked at you expectantly.
“What, still hungry?” He replied.
You forced yourself to look him in the eye.
“If you insist upon giving Hector alcohol…I suggest the second to last table on the patio towards the west. Much fewer eyes.” You said simply.
Lalo smiled widely and pointed his index finger at you. He did that often, you noticed. “I’ll pour you one next time, eh?” He laughed.
You smiled a little. “I don’t think that would end well.”
“I look forward to it!” He smiled even wider and you pursed your lips to keep from returning it. You didn’t want him to know that he was wrapping you around his finger whether you liked it or not.
Lalo sat in the the car, and he waved briefly before they pulled away and left you there with your head still reeling. You didn’t even remember walking up to your apartment or undressing or getting into the shower…but there you were under the warm stream of water trying to understand and rationalise what had just transpired. You were frightened, then at ease, then thankful, then suspicious, then open, then…you head spun. You had become to accustomed to your little quiet bubble with minimal interactions outside of it…and this man had forced his way through it like a freight train.
And what frighted you the most was that you didn’t want him not to.
Your hands shook as you remembered the last time someone had seemed so charming and sweet. You rolled your eyes.
Arms length. You would keep this man at arms length- just like you did with almost everyone else.
Three weeks passed before you saw Lalo Salamanca again.
It wasn’t as if you expected to see him often, or even at all…but the man had a certain way about him that made you miss his presence. He was so all-consuming and confident that it was noticeable when he wasn’t there. You also noticed how Hector’s mood began to drop again. You didn’t blame him.
In an attempt to make the man a little easier to handle, you started teaching yourself some simple Spanish when you had the time. It helped greatly that several clients and staff members spoke it well, and they humoured you in teaching you a few things each day. You supposed they were mostly taking pity on you, but you didn’t mind too much.
You started to feel a little more normal since coming to the scorching city…like you were starting to grow away from where you had run from. You even made a joke that made Jim laugh.
In the back of your mind, you did feel something odd though. Like there was something in your peripheral that you just couldn’t catch. You had sworn that you’d seen the same car on your route for a few days…but you also knew that your paranoia was still very present.
By the second week, you begun to notice how much the language helped around the home. Staff taught you basic things that you said day to day, and your patients helped with more conversational language…your empty head was thankful for the distraction and soaked it up like a sponge. You were tired of the nervous and stressful thoughts that usually occupied the space.
It was early on a Friday when you heard the unmistakable sound of Hector’s bell ringing. You hoped it was that he had gotten his favourite breakfast and not that he had been seated beside someone he didn’t like- you gadnt had enough coffee yet to deal with angry seniors.
There was very little to do following breakfast as the clients enjoyed some free time before activities started; you indulged your curiosity and followed the ringing sound. You sought it out until you came to the patio, and you felt a tiny smile on your lips when you looked past the array of wheelchairs and nurses; there at the second to last table sat two very engaged Salamancas facing away from the entrance you came from.
You saw Lalo give his uncle the occasional sip from the styrofoam cup on the table, and you already knew that was no vitamin mix in there. As you inconspicuously made your way over, checking on a few clients as you went, you began to notice just how tense Lalo seemed from behind. You didn’t want to think that you knew he body language perfectly, but for someone who was usually aloof in his mannerisms, having tight shoulders was far more noticeable.
You slowed your steps once you got closer; they were in conversation. A one sided one but you knew they communicated regardless of Hector’s muteness.
Then you made the poor decision to listen. Your Spanish was very juvenile, but you had come to pick up on a lot - especially phrases and words that were similar to English. Which was why you started to realise that what you were listening to Lalo say was not meant to be heard by anyone but his Tio.
With what you knew and could piece together, you heard a few words that sounded familiar enough; secreto, hombre pollo, establecimiento, restaurante, and quemar. The last one you knew very well thanks to an elderly woman named Pricilla pouring hot tea into the lap of an elderly man named Jerry -evidently his admission of love to her was false and she found out- and his cries of “Quemar!” still rang in your ears. Your mind worked to add everything together and from what you could gather was that there was a restaurant of some kind that could very well end up burned to the ground…and you were fairly certain that Lalo disliked the owner or manager.
Hector’s dinging continued, and you could almost taste the tension growing.
You were about to take the last few strides right up to them, but one word stopped you.
…Cártel.
Every muscle in your body froze simultaneously.
It was no confirmation, but it might as well have been.
It fit.
The respect Hector seemed used to, the rumours, Nacho standing like a guard dog, the lack of visitors, the sudden admission of Hector into the home, the low conversations…you thought back to when he had driven you home and added intimidation tactics to the list. The wad of cash in Lalo’s pocket too.
Then, you felt yourself unclench and a morbid sense of peace washed over you. It wasn’t as if you were reassured; it was that you were still alive. It didn’t mean a lot, but it meant that they either liked you, or had a better use for you…and by god you hoped that use was simply to look after Hector and not to swallow baggies of drugs to smuggle across the border.
And of all people, you had chosen them to befriend.
“There she is!”
You refocused your eyes and as your gaze landed on the man with the skunk stripe on his temple, you let a polite grin grace your features. He was half turned in his chair to greet you- that smile already pulling under his groomed moustache.
“Señor Salamanca, I see you’re enjoying your special juice.” You gave both men a knowing look, then turned back to Lalo, “Señor Lalo, it’s been a little while since I saw you last. I hope you’ve been alright.” You heard yourself say.
You supposed there was no point in trying to run. They had you, and you had let them reel you in; there was no reason to be cold to them. It wasn’t as if you were a cookie cutter Mary-sue yourself.
“Ahh you know how it is…la vida es una locura.” He waved his hand aloofly, resting his arm over the back of his chair. You noticed that he did not elaborate nor answer your query.
“I think I have an idea.” You confirmed both his English and his Spanish.
The easy smile on Lalo’s face seemed to go still. It no longer reached his eyes, and you took a little reckless satisfaction in that.
“Really?” He asked with a prodding tone. You had a feeling he was quick to catch your double meaning.
You smiled tightly, adjusting Hector’s chair since his nurse hadn’t. “Truly.” You replied. “You must be busy…Business doesn’t run itself, I’m sure.” You were walking on ice, and you knew it…but you enjoyed poking at the beast a little.
Lalo’s lips parted at your quip, then he barked out a laugh and pointed at you, “You got some eyes on you.”
You couldn’t remember the full story of Icarus, but you knew he died because he flew too close to the sun regardless of his fathers warnings…and you felt very much like that foolish Greek man. Lalo was a scorching flame and you were standing far too close.
“Always good to see you, Señor Lalo…enjoy your visit.” You nodded to Hector who had been watching the exchange between the two of you, and he dinged his bell at you once.
“Adios.” Lalo gave you a two fingered wave, and you excused yourself.
As soon as your back turned from them, your hands began to shake; adrenaline moved through your blood like a poison or antidote. You didn’t know which.
Jim passed by you with a greeting smile and nod, and you schooled your face quickly. “Could you take Thomas into the bingo room? It’s 2:30.” He said to you, and you welcomed the task to ground you.
“Sure thing.” You murmured.
You didn’t fully remember the rest of the day- you were too busy trying to remember everything you had heard Lalo say to his Tio…jotting things down on sticky notes with poor spelling and guessed words. You almost felt…responsible for what you heard. You knew you were in deep, and you knew that by being curious you were digging yourself even deeper, but somehow you couldn’t stop. It was a sick need to know exactly what you were dealing with.
The day ended like every single one before it; you were exhaused and aching and only had a few thoughts in your head and most of them were of how comfortable your bed would be once you got home. The only difference that day was your anxiety over the notes you had made that day- hoping you didn’t forget any.
You swore under your breath when your keys once again were caught on something in your bag-
“Fancy seeing you here, niña.”
Your head snapped up despite you trying to keep yourself as calm as possible. You swore the older man just liked making you jump.
“Do you practice those lines in the mirror Señor Lalo?” You asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him; Lalo was leaned against your car just as he had taken to doing now.
“You wound me!” He gasped, placing his hand on his chest.
“How long have you been out here?” You asked, standing almost toe to toe to him as he refused to move from his place.
You knew he likely wanted something, and he was using his perfected charm and relentlessness to get it. You internally braced yourself for him to tell you to get in the car again…that he knew you knew more than you let on…and that you should make peace with whatever god you had before putting an extra hole in your head. You didn’t want to think the worst of him and his family, but if that did indeed happen, you wouldn’t be shocked.
But Lalo didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything at first. His smile didn’t falter, though it did lower a little to sit comfortably under his moustache. You watched as he unfolded one of his arms from across his chest and extend his hand to you- what was in it more specifically. There was a little yellow piece of paper folded between his forefinger and middle finger.
“No bedtime stories alright?” He pointed at you with a teasing and cheeky grin on his mouth as he winked down at you.
You took the paper, and felt his skin brush yours for half a second- he was warm. You chose to ignore that, and you focused on unfolding it. It was just a number. His. He had given you his phone number. A cartel phone number. Your brain started reeling again. Then, as you looked at it, you make a mental note that the writing was slanted the opposite way than you usually saw, then you thought for a moment.
He was left handed.
You grinned to yourself at the realisation. You didn’t know why you saved that information, but it made the enigmatic man in front of you seem more human- like knowing he had a belly button or that he had baby teeth that fell out at one time. It was perhaps childish but you liked knowing more about him.
“I-…Thank you.” You said as you placed it neatly into your purse. Once upon a time you would have refused the number and told him it was alright- that you didn’t need it, that if he wanted to get in touch with Hector he could go through the home….but you supposed you knew better now. You knew he didn’t take no for an answer, and you supposed you should show some respect to him for giving you something so personal.
“Atta girl. Don’t work too hard, eh?” He finally moved out of your way and began back to his own -much nicer- car.
“Likewise!” You called to him and he seemed pleased with your answer as he smiled.
You watched the older man get inside his Monte Carlo, and you mirrored him. Your car was hot and the seat radiated unwanted warmth into your back, but you could barely focus on that. You pulled out, and passed his as you went to the exit. Lalo watched you go, and while you waved, he returned it with two fingers extended up from the wheel.
You knew you had errands to run, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to. The notes you had made yourself were burning holes in your pockets, and your want to know what they meant was outweighing your need for groceries and laundry detergent.
In fact, you were so preoccupied with getting home that you didn’t even notice the car that was following you; just as it had been for weeks.
The sticky notes sat arranged neatly on your floor, and your computer stared back at you as you considered your options.
Option 1: try to find proper translations of what was said and risk knowing too much and possible death.
Option 2: tear the papers up and pretend you heard nothing and act like the Salamancas are just an honest business owning family…and possible death because you were naive and didn’t know what you were getting into.
You felt your eye twitch.
Both such tempting options.
But the more you thought, the louder that one word became.
Cartel.
You really know how to pick ‘em y/n…
You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you began typing. You knew that whatever translator you could find wouldn’t be perfect, but you just needed enough to understand. The English to Spanish dictionary you had bought two weeks ago sat open beside you are you poured over the notes you had made. The more you typed and searched and double check, the more your mind began to race- evidently there was indeed more to that family than you had anticipated when you initially befriended their patriarch.
You stared at the translated sentences now, and heaved a sigh.
“We need to burn that restaurant to the ground. I’ll burn it like last time, uncle.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“The chicken man’s establishments are blinding him, can’t see past his greed.”
“He thinks his secret is so fantastic.”
You knew they weren’t perfect translations, but you got the message. There was unrest, and Lalo was sent to deal with it. Whoever this “chicken man” was, he was causing problems.
You let your eyes glaze over as you started to think.
A restaurant.
You checked your notes.
“Restaurants.” Plural.
So a chain of restaurants.
With chicken?
Chicken was a code name? No…Lalo wouldn’t do code names…he mocks people and pokes at their weaknesses, but he’s not the CIA or FBI. He was being literal when he called him the “Chicken man.”
Did he smuggle drugs in chickens? Use it as a cover?
Chicken is their speciality?
You stared at your original note with Spanish.
“Los pollos” …you had seen that somewhere before. You felt your brain stretch as you tried to recall. A restaurant…Los pollos…you started to run the two ideas around in your mind.
Restaurant…Los pollos…restaurant…Los pollos-
Your head snapped up and you frantically scrambled over to your pile of spam mail that you had been ignoring. You knew that name. You did.
You grabbed a chunk of the mail and started sifting through it carefully, scanning every new cellphone, ever greasy pizza place, every-
Your hand gripped blue and yellow ad a little tighter.
The two chicken logo stared back at you.
Los Pollos Hermanos.
No. There was no way.
You couldn’t help the little laugh that came from your chest- either from stress or shock, you weren’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both.
You had driven past it a few times. It was always so clean looking, and you remembered the nice smell you always caught through your window when you passed by it.
You were about to tell yourself that you were being delusional, and that you were too invested in this…but then you supposed the saying of “it’s always the quiet ones” could apply to more than just people. Nice, cookie-cutter restaurants could perhaps be fronts for a drug dealing cartel.
The initial shock began to wear off, and you slowly started to look over what else you had translated.
“I’ll take care of it.” Lalo had said.
Burn the restaurant down, more like…
You wondered what he was capable of. Had he killed people? How many?
Your thoughts strayed to the man himself.
Trouble. That was what you first thought of him.
You thought about his charm and charisma…how he carried himself. He was a confident man in every sense. He adapted his tactics to fit the people he wanted something from…you knew he used it on you too. He was kind and a little pushy but not enough to scare you. He bought you food and drove you home with no immediate expectation…he made you smile and welcomed you. He made you feel seen. Criminal or not…he saw you.
A stupid idea crossed your mind. You knew you were in deep already, and with each passing day it was as if you took a shovel and continued to dig deeper. The thought you had was fuelled purely by your own involvement with the Salamancas and juvenile selfishness.
A stupid impulse to help the two people who made you feel like a human.
Without another thought, you grabbed your bag, checked the stove clock, and were in your car within 5 minutes. You didn’t even bother the change. The route that took you by Los Apollo’s was almost muscle memory, and you were able to let your mind wander as you went. Anything to keep you distracted from what you were doing.
It was closing time once you reached the restaurant. Lights were being shut off, and you could see several workers leaving, and a few more mopping the floors. As you pulled into a parking spot across the street to watch, you noted that there was a level of order to the way duties were carried out. It was methodical and you wondered what kind of training these kids went through…
Every so often, you would see an older man come out to the front and inspect something. His back was straight was he moved just as carefully as the staff cleaned; he was in a yellow dress shirt and tie- nothing significant. The manager or owner you assumed. Your interest was peaked.
You sat there for two hours until almost every single person left. Almost. You waited an extra 20 minutes before leaving, and you were glad you did. If you had left after that those two hours, you wouldn’t have seen that same older man you have observed off and on for 120 minutes exit the building, only now he resembled almost an entirely different person. He was in a sharp black suit, and the change had you so distracted that you didn’t even catch the bulky, black SUV pull in around where the man stood off to the side of the building. Of course, it could have just been nothing- it wasn’t up to you to judge what someone looked like or did after work…but things were clicking together far too easily for you to just gaslight yourself into thinking everyone was Mr.Rogers.
After what you heard Lalo say, you felt your gut sink as you decided that you were indeed not looking at an average business owner. Your I tuition had let you down before, but something about the heat of Albuquerque had you seeing people much more clearly…and if Lalo wanted this man gone, then you had a sneaking suspicion that was a big deal.
The black SUV drove away with the man in it, and you decided that was enough for one night. All at once, your suspicions and thoughts and curiosities were all but confirmed; all you needed was a sign on that man’s back that said “You were right”. You drove home, and welcomed the sight of your small apartment. A morbid part of you half expected someone to be waiting for you when you got back…someone who saw you watching…or perhaps even Lalo himself- perhaps you had become a loose end? But there was nothing. No one waiting for you…just your quiet 400 square feet. Your thoughts were whirling, and sleep seemed like a far away fantasy as you sat on your couch and stared at a crack in the paint.
You had indeed gotten mixed into something far bigger than you- there was no denying that anymore. However, now that you had very nearly completely solidified everything you had wondered, you knew there was no chance in backing out now. You could certainly play dumb for a while…but Lalo was so smart it scared you, and he would figure it out sooner or later.
So you kept digging.
Against your better judgement, you repeated your stakeout the following night. You sat there with a container of takeout, and watched closely. Just like the night before, the business ran, closed, was cleaned and shut up like clockwork.
Methodical.
Careful.
It was fascinating.
This time, however, that older man you had watched last time left in a car already parked there, and it looked far more civilian. You supposed it would draw suspicion if he constantly left work in a black suv. You almost laughed. It was all so ludicrous.
You felt like you were having a strange dream instead of your more constant nightmares. It was far more enjoyable but no less concerning. Where you usually woke up with a tight chest and heart beat so fast it hurt; sweat on your skin and hair sticky, you hope that perhaps if this was a dream that you might wake up and laugh at the idiocy of it all. How silly you were in it. But the more you sat there in your car, and as you drove home, and showered and ate and stared out your window…you started to realise that you were in no dream.
You really were being an idiot. A stupid, impulsive traumatised idiot.
Two days went by after your last visit to the restaurant. Two days of contemplation.
You knew why you were doing those things. You did. But you still found yourself asking yourself why. It was like you craved the anxiety or the adrenaline that came with doing something you know could end badly. What did that say about your mental state?
The file in your hand sat open as you stood behind the reception desk. You had been trying to focus on reading it for two minutes but your eyes repeatedly unfocused as your mind strayed. You just needed to check one of the client’s family member’s number, but you couldn’t seem to even pull yourself together enough for that. You blew the strand of hair that had come free and hung in front of your eyes for the fifth time; you had given up trying to move it.
You heard the main door open and you briefly looked up out of habit, but you took a second glance when you saw that familiar face walk through.
“Good morning Señor.” You said, brows raised in surprise as something stirred in your chest at the sight of his confident strides. This was the first time you had actually seen him enter- most of the time it was like he just materialised out of nowhere.
Lalo rounded the desk to where you were coming out and leaned against it. “Do you know that they’re charging 25¢ more for parking here? It’s criminal, man.” He shook his head.
His statement made a little smile escape you but you schooled it fast.
“I apologise, would you like a word with the owner?” You asked with a little sarcasm, “I’m sure you could talk some sense into him.”
He nodded as if weighing the option, then waved it off and looked around the foyer. “How’s my tio?” He asked calmly, “The old dog up yet?” Lalo looked back at you and flicked his gaze between your eyes. You couldn’t look away. Caught.
You finally tried to tuck the stay hair away again to no avail, and swallowed, “He’s in the activities room. He tipped two full cups of juice over this morning already to look at nurse’s asses when they bent over.” You said as straight faced as you could, though the image had made you giggle to yourself earlier.
Lalo chuckled, “Ese perro viejo no cambia...no harm done, eh?” He reached out and tucked the piece of your hair back behind your ear, then casually started to walk in the direction of the activity room and you took that at your cue to follow him. You had gone still when he had touched you, and you did your best to not let on how shocked you were by the gesture.
Lalo was speaking about something, but while you wanted to listen, you couldn’t quiet find it in you to pay attention. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interesting, or that you didn’t care…it was that you had a startling realisation. You had missed him. That was what you had felt when you saw him…it was happiness. The pleasure of seeing him again. Then when he had moved you hair, you realised how badly you had wanted to lean into his palm.
It startled you.
You scolded yourself. It was a a fantasy. That was it. You were just latching onto him because he spoke to you…hell you might have done the same to the greeter at a supermarket if he was nice enough. It was silly. Just like you.
You walked quietly until you came close to the door, then you stopped and let him go ahead. “Disfrute de su visita, señor.” You said, and the older man paused. Lalo turned to you, but you were already starting to walk past him.
“Gracias, Niña.” He called and you turned and nodded.
You didn’t turn around again, but Lalo watched you walk away for a moment. You didn’t need to see him to know it- his gaze burned. The older man stood there for a moment longer and flexed his hand. You were trouble.
That night, you sat in your car, parked on the street just out of the ring of the fluorescent street lamp light; eyes unfocused, medical mask in hand. It was 3am, and you hadn’t slept a wink. All you could think of was what you were very ready to do.
Another ten minutes went by before you refocused your vision and blinked. You looked across the street, and stared at the empty restaurant. It had been vacant for hours- the only movement you saw were the odd couple pulling into the parking lot for a quick drunken blowjob. Besides that, it was just you and the task you had given yourself.
Breaking and entering wasn’t a skill you appreciated having…but thanks to your ex, you did. He had taken to harvesting copper wires when money got tight…and he had always coerced you into coming with him despite your discomfort and anxiety. “You n me, baby, c’mon.” He would say as he dragged you out of the car. But you always had the sense that it was only you and him until you got caught. Asshole.
You sighed and threw your door open. You might now have known a lot, but you knew how to open a lock and mess with wiring without getting yourself fried in the process. That was enough.
With those old wire-cutters of yours in hand and mask on, you threw up your hood, and moved with the shadows. You rounded the restaurant, and snuck to the back where the staff entrance was locked up well. You half wished that the lock would have been enough to deter you…that you didn’t know how to pick a lock at all. But it didn’t, and you did.
You reached into your pocket, and took a couple small gadgets that you still had from the asshat, and began fiddling with the thick padlock. Your heart was thudding in your ears while you worked away.
What are you doing?
You screamed at yourself mentally, wishing you had an answer to your internal question but you came up with nothing. Only that you needed to do something.
Click
A sigh of relief huffed from your mouth when the lock popped open. Your shaking hands quickly slid it out of place, and you were about to push on the door when you wondered if they had a security alarm set in place. It was entirely possible. But you knew you had your hands covered in gloves and your car not too far if the cops were alerted.
You decided that even if there was an alarm you had enough time to run. With another deep breath, you tugged on the handle of the door, and pulled. To your good fortune, there was indeed no additional alarm.
Once the relief faded, and your focus returned, you made quick work of finding the electrical box. It was on the wall just down from the back door. You thanks god that it was small. You carefully opened it, and stared at the web of wires and switches that greeted you. You groaned a little, and looked at the pliers in your hand, then back at the wires. Your hands trembled more now than you recalled they used to. You supposed your body was forced not to show weakness in front of him…
You shook your head. “Focus.”
Just to be safe, you flicked off a few of the switches that looked to be connected to the wire sets you were eyeing as your target. The last thing you wanted was to get zapped and pass out. It wasn’t as if you were going to clip any…you didn’t want things to completely stop working. Just a few mistakes that would cause a big enough issue for the restaurant.
A half hour passed before you were finally content with the work your had done. Indeed, the web of wires before you now had exactly three faults that would slowly weaken and cause issues throughout the restaurant. Machines not working, and if left long enough they would likely cause a fire. It would mean a plethora of further issues too if an anonymous tip was called in regarding a poor and unsafe work environment.
With a deep breath and a few prayers, you flipped the power back on. The emergency light turned on and the box in front of you fizzed for a moment with the newly damaged wiring, but to your relief nothing exploded.
Your nerves started to come back now that you were finished. You flicked your eyes around and patted yourself down to ensure you left nothing behind, but just as you were doing so, you heard voices. A shot of fear surged through you, and your fight or flight kicked in. The latter won. You were out the back door within seconds and snapping the lock back into place as your mind went into hyperdrive. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps rounding the building; you breath felt too warm against your mask and your fingers barely managed to get the lock in place before you had to bolt. You hid in the shadows and crept along the side of the building until you could see your car and you ran. Your heart beat as fast at your legs were moving, and you didn’t stop until you were behind the wheel, and driving away. You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t stop to check even if you wanted to.
The sun had risen long ago, and you half wished you had to get ready for work…anything to get yourself busy and distracted from what you had done that night. It was a warm afternoon, and your hands were clammy as you sat on your couch with your phone sitting in front of you and the thick Albuquerque phonebook beside your thigh.
Just pick it up. Pick. It. Up.
Pick it up.
Pick-
You sighed and scratched your head before snatching the receiver up dialling the number you had your finger on in the phonebook.The ringing set your nerves alight as you waited. The monotonous tone lulled your for a moment, so when someone picked up, you almost jumped out of your skin. The person greeted you and introduced themselves with a name you didn’t hear. “How can I help you?” They asked.
You swallowed, but you had to do this unless you wanted the problem you had created to get even worse. “Hello, I-I’d like to make a complaint regarding unsafe working conditions? No, I’d like to remain anonymous please…Yes…yes that’s right. Huh? Oh, at Los Pollos Hermanos.”
“BELOVED LOS POLLOS HERMANOS UNCOVERED”
It was on the front page two days later. Evidentially a tip had been called in that there was severe malpractice in the restaurant, and after a health inspector had been sent…they had found exactly that. Issues with basic wiring- a truly unsafe working environment. Due to something so simple being so wrong, every other aspect of Los Pollos was thus being investigated, and the business had been shut down until further notice.
It was the talk of the nursing home when you came to work, and you forced a look of surprise as people groaned about it. However, while you did feel a small sense of guilt…you couldn’t hide the creeping satisfaction that began to settle in you. It had worked.
There was the tiniest secret smile on your face that got you a few strange looks, but you brushed it off with a “I just slept well.” A part of you was mortified that you had done such a thing…worrying that somehow they knew it was you and that police officers would pull up at any moment to arrest you…but it never happened.
You carried on your day like any other, and you began to seek out Hector in hopes that he had somehow heard what had happened…or perhaps that you could tell him yourself. Then as you walked, you began to feel worry creep into your thoughts.
What if I crossed a line?
What if I ruined one of their plans?
What if Lalo had wanted to be the one to take care of the restaurant?
You started to wring your hands as you walked out to the patio, but your head snapped to a table where you heard a laugh you knew very well. There was no coincidence that Lalo was sat there with his uncle that day- you knew that. And judging by the ringing of Hector’s bell, he was in a good mood.
You weren’t sure that you were ready to speak to him after what you had done…you were filled with so much uncertainty. If he didn’t like what had happened then he would likely track down who had done it and when he found you…that would be it.
You took a deep breath and went to walk back inside, but you were stopped short when a whistle caught your attention. You hated how fast you stopped and turned to it.
Sure enough, that man with the devious smile was staring at you openly with a friendly wave. You hoped to god that he was genuinely happy and not just luring you in. With one last internal whimper, you began across the patio and came to the two men.
“Buenas tardes Sr. Salamanca…Señor Lalo.” You nodded to them both, but you noticed that Lalo simply refused to take his glittering eyes off you- mirth swimming in them.
“Beautiful day, no?” He beamed mischievously, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky.
His charm was still very much in place, and you counted that as a good start, but you knew his mood could change on a dime.
You looked out at the saturated sky, “It is. You seem to be in an extra good mood today, Señor.” You said, then bent down to Hector to gently ask him if he was comfortable or needed water. He didn’t ding he bell, so you assumed Lalo had already done those.
“You ever see what a mouse can do in a house, niñita?” Her asked, still smiling.
You thought for a moment, “Y-yeah I have.” You said, recalling when mice got into the basement of your childhood home and ate through the Christmas decorations.
“They scurry around and get into everything but you never fucking see them. Fast, y’know? Chew through everything…pequeños bastardos destructivos…” he chuckled and shook his head, “I have a…very strong sense that there is a little mouse…right here in this city.” Lalo leaned forward on the table- his forearms flexing. “Causing some serious damage too.” His gaze was heavy and intense. You found yourself starting to feel afraid, but you did your best to keep it at bay.
“A- a mouse, señor?” You asked.
He hummed, “You know what the thing about mice is though, niñita?”
You tentatively shook your head.
“They make tremendous pets.” He grinned.
“I-I suppose you’re right.” You hoped your skin blanching wasn’t as visible as it felt.
Lalo chuckled and leaned back again, and you released a breath. “Someone made a fool out of some competition of ours…their tactics reminded me of a pequeño ratón, you know?”
“Oh?” You asked as casually as you could.
“Yep.” He popped the “p”, “There’s this restaurant which, admittedly is pretty good,” he began joyfully, “And you’ll never guess what happened to it.”
You shook your head and shifted a little.
“Tell me.” You said, hiding your shaking hands behind your back.
“Got shut down.” He said like it was a huge secret, “Yeah, something about a wiring issue. Morons,” he shook his head, “Crazy eh?”
“Yeah…who would’ve thought.” You agreed, mirroring his shock.
“Yeah. Bonkers.” His smile faded from his eyes, but remained on his lips. But there was no anger there, which you counted as a positive thing.
Silence settled over you and you started to squirm. “It’s a good thing though…isn’t it?” You couldn’t help yourself from asking. You needed to know what he thought…whether you should say your goodbyes to this world or if you could actually breathe.
Lalo smiled again. “Sí, algo muy bueno.”
Your ears started ringing as his words settled into your brain.
He wasn’t furious.
He wasn’t vengeful.
You nodded, trying not to show how relieved you were. “Well…it might be unfortunate for that business but I hope your family does well in the meantime.” You sighed as calmly as you could, and picked up an empty cup on the table- anything to hide your trembling hands. “It’s always good to see you Señor Lalo…until next time. Sr. Salamanca your nurse will come get you in twenty minutes alright? Please don’t try and make her deaf this time…” you added after having the memory of the woman yelling every time she spoke for three hours following Hector ringing his bell non stop for 15 minutes. Poor thing could barely hear.
“Adios, niñita.” Lalo murmured just loud enough for you to hear it, and you cast him one last look before you left. You were certain you would never get accustomed to his stare.
The remaining part of the day passed in a blur. Before you knew it the next shift of workers were signing in and you were signing out. The receptionist on that evening bid you goodnight, and you finally felt yourself fall back into your body.
You said a few goodbyes on your way out the door, and you absentmindedly played with your keys. You ran the day over in your head, and while you did feel relieved that Lalo wasn’t angry…you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You swore you forgot something when you had …when you had gone to the restaurant. You hadn’t had the wits to look over everything when you got home, so you were hoping it was just some remaining guilt in you still festering.
There was a light breeze that night. It crept up your spine and tickled your cheeks. You breathed it in as you climbed into your car, and you let yourself relax a little as you pulled out and drove home.
Your building came into view but just when you were climbing out, a body came right up in front of you- caging you between your door and the sidewalk.
“Hola pequeña!”
You stared up, and felt your cheeks warm at the proximity to the older man - his grey streak prominent in the golden setting sun. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps and your fingers tingled as you fought to find something to say.
You forced a small smile despite how flustered you were, “H-hello Señor.” You said softly.
“Just the person I was looking for. How lucky am I?” He smiled- one arm over the open door and the other on the roof. You were stuck.
“Oh I- r-really?” You hated that you couldn’t stop tripping over your words.
His grin only deepened, “Yeah, you know…almost as lucky as I was when a little mouse decided to meddle with that restaurant, hm?”
You stared at him, not knowing what else to do or say. Your anxiety began to creep back as you started to think that the joy he had shown in front of Hector was just an act after all.
“If you say so Señor… I hope no one was hurt.” You managed to say as his warmth and scent radiated into the air around you.
He laughed and shook his head. “Nah not this time…but I will say that whoever did it was a little nervous I think.” He said as if it was a conspiracy, tilting his head just so.
“Oh?” You asked. Not your most genious of replies but your brain was starting to turn into white noise.
Lalo nodded, and you could tell he was feigning concern; his mouth was in a frown but his eyes were filled with amusement. He was playing with you. “Yeah they left their shitty wire-cutters behind.” The older man reached into his back pocket, and you felt yourself blanch.
“I went by there you know…the day after to give my condolences on the unfortunate findings…And I just so happened to find these. Such an amazing coincidence too.” He smiled, wagging the cutters at you as he spoke.
You continued to stare, as if you moving would cause him to blow your head off; you still couldn’t tell if he was pleased by what happened, and each passing moment didn’t seem to help clarify anything.
“Coincidence?” You asked a little breathlessly.
He nodded brightly.
“Yeah, I mean don’t you have a busted pair like these in your car?” Lalo pointed the metal at your vehicle.
He knows he knows he knows he knows-
“I-I I did…been donating some things though I think they were in the last l-load I did. Haven’t seen them for weeks.” You felt your brain working overtime as you fought to find something to convince him with; you were fine with him not knowing it was you even if he was happy about it…but you weren’t leaping at the chance of telling him that it was you and him not being pleased.
But then, Lalo tsked and leaned away, “Too bad…here I was thinking I might owe you a favour. Guess not.” He shrugged and tossed them into the window you now saw was open. You didn’t remember opening it, and you realised he must have opened it when you were working to check if your wire-cutters were missing.
Then you felt your heart sink. He knew you were lying.
You sucked in a breath and shrugged.
“Even i-if it was me…you wouldn’t owe me anything.” You said, holding your ground as he towered over you.
His brows rose comically.
“No? Some say a favour from a Salamanca is as good as gold.” He rumbled. His breath fanned across your cheeks and he readjusted his hand by your head. You felt yourself almost gravitate towards it.
You nodded and tried to ignore how you couldn’t feel your fingers.
“I’m sure you’re right, señor…” you replied, “Tu tío no me odia y has sido generoso…that’s enough for me.”You watched that mirth return. An morbid amusement.
You watched something in his head click ad he pieced things together in two seconds.
“Ah, ella ha estado aprendiendo... Una chica muy lista.” He winked and wagged a finger at you as he stepped away from you and onto the street.
You might not have gotten every word…but you knew there was a little bit of pride in what he said. Like he was amused by you learning and speaking his native tongue.
“My apologies for interrupting your evening. Adiós!” He was out of your space and walking to his Monte Carlo that you somehow missed when you pulled in.
“G-goodnight, Señor.” You watched him walk. There was a certain carefree confidence to the way his arms hung by his sides. You wondered what that was like.
He drove away with a two fingered salute, and you returned the gesture with a little wave. There was a surge of turmoil coursing through you as you pried yourself away from the sidewalk. On one hand, you hoped against hope that he wasn’t buttering you up only to turn around and end your existence…and the other part of you was trying to stop the first part of you from being so naive.
You strode into your apartment like you had soggy socks- slowly and uneasily. You sat on your couch and stared at the wall.
You fell asleep that night just like every other- suddenly and not knowing that you were being watched. Not that you would ever notice. Hector’s men might now have been as intelligent and inconspicuous as Lalo’s own back home, but they did the job. Every night like clock work; they followed you home, watched your window, and stayed quiet about it. It had been months now. At first it had just been to see if you were an informant or a plant…but after a few weeks, some uneventful phone taps and 24 hour shifts later, it was clear that you were just…alone.
Lalo knew your routine better than you did. Knew that you often sat for stretches of time on your bed or couch upon getting in the door…usually not even doing anything. He knew that you only ordered a full meal from a restaurant once every two weeks. He knew that you had nightmares too- sudden crying or screaming in the night had spooked the men stationed outside your window at first…but after a few nights they got used to it. He could still remember his mother having them when he was a boy and his father would disappear for days…her cries from her room. He knew the sound all too well.
You weren’t a threat. Not really. Lalo was still trying to work out how you had managed to get under Hector’s skin…but he had a feeling that your respect for him gave him a familial sense about you. Like a niece. No…no Lalo wouldn’t get rid of you any time soon, not while you still pleased his Tio, and now apparently looked out for the cartel.
When the men had told Lalo about your late night escapade, he had indeed paid a visit to Los Pollos Hermanos…and he admittedly hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time when he found those old shitty wire cutters of yours. He knew you had spirit but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected that of you.
You were this skittish little thing , but the older man couldn’t help but feel entertained at your antics. You were juvenile and fearless despite your anxious nature. So eager to prove something.
So they watched you.
The following few nights after your impulsive crime, the men had taken to start making little bets. Would you do something else crazy? Was it a one time thing? They kept busy.
You were dull, but you were cute, and they didn’t mind.
They knew you never had visitors, so a week later, when they saw a taxi pull up, and a man get out in front of your building they didn’t perk up. They watched him enter, and lazily observed him; it wasn’t until they noticed how he loitered outside the front door until someone left and he caught the door that they looked at him a little closer.
The man disappeared inside, and they were begining to grow bored of waiting to see if anything if happened until your apartment light turned on.
They watched what they could see of you move through your apartment. One of the men had his binoculars in hand, pressed to his eyes to see more, but all he could make out was your door being flung open, and your home going black.
That was enough for them.
One of the men pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed dial, and waited as it rang.
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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I imagine that werewolf bodyguard reader has a big appetite so I'd like to think they'll cuddle up to anyone that offers them food, may i please request an affectionate wolfie reader?
Skipped lunch again... Something you shouldn't with strength being your most contributing factor, but with so many prying eyes recently you were dedicated to your post. You eventually crawled away with your tail tucked between your legs as the howls from your empty stomach alerted your fellow guards. You'd serve no use to the team in this state and thus you excused yourself to scrounge around for something quick to hold you off until you got off. You could probably eat an entire city with how your hunger pains clawed at the lining of your stomach - but a sandwich would do for now.
"Y/n! Come here for a sec, we got something for ya!"
The smell hits your nose before their whistle catches your ear. Mouthwatering chicken, hot out of the fryer. You sniff around, following your keen sense of smell to the bed of a truck where two of your coworkers sat with a large plastic bag between them. The bag was tilted on one side and you could see the bucket full of golden chicken within. You wipe the corners of your mouth as you address them.
"Need me for something?"
"Guess you could say that. We were just on break and saw this local joint was still open at this hour so we stopped by for a bite. Noticed you'd been on your feet all day and brought you a treat for your hard work."
The non-speaking party pulls out the bucket and places it on the floor of the trunk. It pains you to tear your eyes away. If you had one, you'd need it all. "Maybe some other time. I don't get off for another hour."
"Aw, don't be like that! Our wolf needs their strength. Just a couple bites, yeah?" The guard grabs a drumstick and waves it at you. You will your eyes shut, but the smell lingers and takes pilot of your feeble mind. You climb aboard the truck bed, squeezing between the two as you hold their wrist steady. You strip the bone of its meat in the matter of seconds, setting your head on the lap of its giver as you chew. Your arms hook around their leg; teeth snatching the bits of chicken they offer as their companion rubs your back; gently reminding you to chew before swallowing with a tap to your shoulder blades.
You swore you stop after one more piece. You had a post to return to and a boss depending on your loyalty. One turned into three til you'd eaten three quarters of what was intended to feed a family of six. You lay between the pair sluggish and a sponge for their soft pats and praise. It reminds you of being the runt of the litter being given extra attention - something you hadn't been in a long time. Couldn't say you didn't miss the treatment despite being bigger than most humans you'd met thus far.
When a hand comes to stroke your jaw you find yourself leaning against it as your head hangs from the weight of fatigue. Your lips rest on their wrist and you instinctively nestle into their warmth as your breathing slows. The heavy bounce of a heel on concrete drags you from sleep and towards the unamused, jealous gaze of your boss.
"Evening, Y/n. You two."
Crumbs fall off your face as you sit upright. "Evening, boss...."
"I believe I've told you before about spoiling them with junk food. In the car, Y/n. Now."
Expecting to be chewed out for abandoning your post you're surprised to end up at a fancy steakhouse after a silent drive. Sitted at the table already stacked with nearly every meal on the menu, the waitress sets a fork and knife in front of your boss while leaving you with no utensils.
"Um... can I get a fork too?"
Your boss cuts a piece of meat and holds the fork to your lips. "No. This is your punishment for skipping lunch and not asking me to bring you food first. You are not leaving this table until these plates are licked clean."
Your stomach grows. "I'm not sure if that will really be a challenge..."
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waklman · 2 years ago
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Hi Tilly! So, I’m living by myself for the first time and my dishwasher just flooded my apartment 🫠I’m fine😀, really… 😭. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe write something with Bradley and babybear 🥺. They are my comfort characters! love ya ❤️
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summary: you and bradley go out for a late night snack or bf! bradley who stands there in silence x gf! who orders food for them both.
warnings: mentions of strict dieting, one or two suggestive jokes. fluff, 18+ blog.
note: helpp the way that kind of made me laugh. as a fellow girlie who also gets herself in trouble when left alone, i hope your floors are okay! excuse the quality as writers block has me by the neck
something 'bout you masterlist.
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It’s not often that Bradley dines out. He’ll indulge in some of Penny’s greasy bar snacks once in a while—nothing more than that.
With the one time he did slack off, it wasn’t exactly easy to get back to his original physique. In fact, Bradley even found himself struggling to keep up with the likes of Hangman at one point.
And that was just the wake up call he needed to finally get back on track. 
Since then, he’s made sure to double down on his efforts to stay in shape, scarfing down his protein packed, repetitive, plain meals. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit tasking, but it's nothing Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t put up with. And when Bradley was committed towards something, he was all in. 
But what he forgot to include in his ‘fool proof’ plan to remain loyal to his diet, was his stubborn girlfriend who loves to spoil him rotten. Which is why he's finding it difficult to swallow down his food tonight.
The usual pre-prepped dinner has never tasted so bland and downright dry, especially when you’re planted in front of him with that tablet in your hands.
For the past thirty minutes, Bradley has been subjected to a screening of strangers eating a variety of foods—from huge portions of instant noodles—to enormous crab legs being dipped in buckets of cheese. 
He’s seen it all. 
“Give in,” you whisper, fingers tightly curled around the edges of the ipad, though, you’re careful enough to not block the screen itself.
Across the rounded table he’s sat in, you’re standing there like you’re getting paid to show him a compilation of mukbang videos. You’d put the billboards lined up on the nearby highways to shame. 
“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head firmly. 
Stabbing his fork into another piece of boiled chicken, Bradley stuffs it into his mouth in defiance. He refuses to wave the white flag, not when he’s worked so hard to finally restrain himself.
Maverick would have to come twirling into the living-room in ballerina-get up for him to take it as a sign to treat himself to a cheat meal. 
At his clear refusal to give in, your head peeks out, just so slightly, behind the thirteen inch screen, eyes narrowed with fiery determination igniting them.
“Mcdonalds. Wendys. Burger King. In and Out,” you repeatedly chant, legs starting to tremble under the strain of standing up for so long. 
Bradley only flares his nostrils, a sign that he is not backing down either.
In any other scenario, his knees would’ve immediately buckled after one plea from you. But right now, he knows you’d stuff his face with junk—that he’s been successfully cutting out for months, if you were given the okay from him.
Though, he does have to admit, he’s finding it hard to keep a stern face because your legs look like they’re about to completely give out. Not wanting to keep you up any longer, Bradley tunes out your endless chant of fast food chains—which somehow turns into a catchy song, as he shovels more strips of chicken in his mouth.
Maybe if he finishes his dinner faster, he could coax you onto the couch to watch more Ryan Gosling movies. 
Following your gut feeling, you lift a finger to the front of the screen, tapping repeatedly on the skip button—until it felt right. After spamming your pointer just a few times, you lift the index off the glass, letting it play at a random point in the compilation.
Bradley’s tongue prods his cheek, straight face starting to falter. “Baby it’s not gonna work. Please just sit dow—” 
His mouth immediately clamps shut, throat moving as he swallows back a wad of drool pooling inside his mouth. The boring dinner under him is long forgotten. 
Noticing his dazed state, you lower the screen to probe what finally caught his attention. Bradley’s eyes practically trails the movement of the tablet, not looking away for a second.
A platter of juicy burgers leaking oil and mountains of fries is what breaks him. 
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“And he’ll have the double bacon-burger, two large fries, one coke and—” 
The teenage boy behind the register blinks in disbelief, watching the giant man in front of him lean down towards his girlfriend, shyly whispering in her ear. 
Bradley draws back again, standing a head taller than you with his arms crossed around your front, glassy eyes roaming the lit-up menu stretched above the line of registers. 
“Oh, can we actually make that a root beer? Also I’m really sorry, but can you remove the tomatoes from the burger as well?” You request, giving Bradley comforting strokes on the forearm he has slung over your chest.
“Yes, Ma’m I can…I can do that for you,” the worker clears his throat, editing the order on the screen, customer service voice practically cracking. 
When you two first walked in, with matching pajama pants, the fast food employee assumed he was dealing with a pair of psychos from the streets.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he’d always get one or two unsettling visitors in the duration of his night shift. But they’d always prowl inside the joint by themselves—they never had company—nor have they ever teamed up on him before. Briefly, he considered hovering his hand over the dusty emergency button directly under the counter. 
But to his surprise, you two were just a relatively normal couple with a craving for burgers at midnight. 
“Alrighty, your total comes out to 18.50,” he reads, eyes nervously darting between the two of you. “...Will that be cash or card?”
Almost in a race with each other, you both drop the lovely couple act, digging in your own pajama pants for your wallets. The anxious worker behind the counter starts taking a careful step back, afraid you two were going to pull out a weapon on him all of a sudden. God, he shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily. 
He stills as you beat Bradley to it, holding out a credit card between your fingers, excitedly pointing it towards him. 
Bradley begins to panic, patting down his empty pockets. “Babybear, where the fuck is my wallet?” He tilts his head down at you, a knowing look settling on his face. 
As the credit card is taken from you, your mouth stretches into a wide smile, and you crane your neck backwards to look at him. “I tossed it in the back of the car when you weren’t looking,” you gleam in satisfaction.
Bradley sighs in disbelief, no wonder you were so clingy in the car. 
“Is that why you were crawlin’ all over me during all the stop lights?” 
“Gimme a kiss,” you suddenly demand, cutting him off. 
Bradley blinks at your puckered lips.
It practically pulls him into a trance, because he’s already dipping his head down to give you a quick peck. In a strange way, it’s almost a perfect recreation of that upside-down spider man kiss scene. 
Ultimately, he decides to keep the comparison to himself. If he were to mention it, you’d most likely start gushing about another movie actor.
He’s already heard enough of Ryan Gosling lately.
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“I know you can open your mouth bigger than that,” you frown in his lap, readjusting the bundle of fries between your fingers. 
The buckle of his undone seatbelt hits your ankle when you wriggle to find a comfortable position next.
Bradley licks the ketchup off his lip. “Yeah, you would know,” he teases, giving your butt a quick squeeze, sleazy look on his face. 
Somehow, he’s the same person who was barely able to order food for himself inside the burger joint that’s currently behind his parked Bronco.
Receiving a silent look of disapproval from you, he finally clears his throat. 
“Okay, someone didn’t find that funny,” he mumbles, stretching his mouth wider for you.
“A little more. Ahhh,” you sing, encouraging him to take the fistful of french fries. Under you, Bradley nearly chokes when you stuff one more in his mouth, slamming his jaw shut with finality. 
“I like when your mouth is full. Less talking,” you jut your chin at him, all too pleased with the lapse of silence. 
Bradley stills his chewing, raising a brow at you. 
“Ugh! Stop it. Keep chewing those fries,” you complain, reaching for the large root beer resting on the dashboard behind you.
Bradley grins, mouth full of food, holding you steady when you twist your middle to grab the drink. 
Swallowing down a large ball of potato, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw, taking a long sip from the drink cradled between your hands. 
“Are you full?” You question, watching him lean back after finishing off the remains of the beverage. You decide to set the empty cup into the driver's seat for now. 
“Feeling so full, baby,” he groans, shutting his eyes as if it’ll help him digest it faster. 
Pursing your lips to hold back a laugh, you place a suggestive hand over his stomach. “Yeah? Feel it all in your tummy,” your voice drops to a lower register, mimicking his dirty talk from the other day. 
His eyes snap open, immediately.
The cramped Bronco, littered in empty paper bags and greasy wrapping paper jostles as he rushes to sit up tall. “You said no more jokes,” he scoffs, pinching your sides. What you said was worse than everything else he spat out tonight. 
“Hey,” you whine, scratching his bloated stomach with your nails. “Don’t act all mad big guy. I know you’re about to give in anyways,” you giggle. 
Bradley traces his teeth with his tongue, failing to conceal his growing smile. Because you’re right.
If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be thirty minutes away from home, favorite person in his lap and favorite cheat meal in his stomach.
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toptierteaser · 1 year ago
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Butterball Status: Pt. 1
A Blowup Anthology Story
“Well, well, well…seems like somebody’s hit ‘Butterball Status” today!”
The taunt, accompanied with a firm poke into his ample abdomen, carried out across the hall, audible to the dozens of Coaches and hundreds of Campers alike. Diego’s mouth fell agape, his plump cheeks reddening as the weight of what had just been said sunk into his stomach way that extra, stale donut had last night. I knew I should’ve laid off the treats for a while! Diego cursed internally.
But Coach Jason simply smiled at him. Or was it more of a sneer? It was hard to tell with Jason. ‘Chubby-chasin’ Jason,’ they called him. Behind his back, of course. Never when the handsome coach was present to make his Campers run an additional lap around the track. Watching diligently as their overblown backsides jiggled uncontrollably with all the added weight. Of course, the Coach could never fully express his predilections, as it would have been social suicide among the other Coaches. But he had his reputation among the Campers, and the fatties had eaten the rumor up faster than a bucket of fried chicken.
Naturally, Jason played up the angle of a Coach being disgusted at his camper for packing on as many pounds as Diego evidently had. And so the sharp poke into his big, juicy tummy transfigured into a grab as Jason’s hand snaked around from Diego’s front to his equally-tubby love handle. The other hand was placed on its twin and Deigo felt himself, helpless, defenseless, and in full view of half the camp, being turned toward the mirror in front of him.
The scale had confirmed it, the numbers having jumped by ten since the last weigh in—how was it even possible he had packed on that much weight in a week?—and Coach Sebastian clacked away at his calculator, racking up Diego’s routinely-increasing BMI. The nerdy coach began snickering behind his glasses as he waved the numbers up in the air. “It’s official!” said the Coach in his nasally voice. “The fat fuck is officially a butterball!”
Those within Diego’s earshot began to snicker and whoop, to offer snide comments about how he had “never quite been able to put the fork down, that one.” Or how it was a “good thing he’ll get bumped up a weight class. His fat ass was barely able to fit through the door as it was, poor fat fuck.”
Diego tried not to let everyone see how badly it affected him, how flustered and embarrassed it was making him. But such teasing, taunting observations weren’t even the worst of it.
                “This is your own fault, you know, pork chop?” said Jason in his ear. Now he really was smiling. “You’re the one who fed yourself up like this, weren’t you fatboy?”
                And as Diego’s round body was wheeled about, he realized the Coach was absolutely right. He almost didn’t recognize himself. Before him stood a tubby young man, the lingerings of handsomeness jutting through the added pudge on his face. but the rest of him was completely unrecognizable. In his time at the Camp, Diego had absolutely buried himself in layers of fat, his belly swelling to completely cover his fly, his thighs porking out ridiculously, his moobs pressing up against his chubbed-up neck. He looked like a big fat scoop of neopolitan ice cream, his warm brown skin busting out from underneath the tight white t-shirt that didn’t even reach his cavernous belly button and his bright pink booty shorts that looked more like painted-on briefs. It had been a while since he’d been forced to look at himself in the mirror and while he still found his shocked, embarrassed face to be handsome, he felt that the rest of him rather resembled an overinflated balloon!
                It was all too much! The image of himself, standing there, big fat legs pressing out against each other, juicy arms unable to rest because his love handles were in the way. His Coach poking and prodding and squeezing his chubby side rolls. The sight of himself, about a bite of cheesecake away from splitting his uniform, completely defenseless. An overfed blowfish who in all likeliness would only be blown up even fatter! He felt himself growing excited, the waistband of his shorts creaking as he felt himself expand within them.
                Calm down, he told himself. Just take a deep breath.
                And then he saw Brandon, the flamboyant Coach who had been a tailor and a hairdresser before they began Rounding Up fatties across the country, walking up to him, smirking with a measuring tape held taut between his hands.
                And as Coach Jason was forced to stand aside as Brandon took the helm, wrapping the tape beneath Diego’s armpits and tut-tutting as he slid down Diego’s sides to his big belly, measuring the ridiculous circumference of the fatass. “Seems like the fat fuck has ballooned his belly wider than his shoulder-width!” said the Coach. And as he said it, Diego felt himself rise, swell, and—PING—the button of his shorts went flying out across the room!
                There was another humiliating snickering that surrounded him, consuming him, driving Diego ever-more flustered.
                And then, as Diego’s obese ass and thunderous thighs were measured, Jason all but shoved Brandon out of the way, grabbing Diego by the love handles and turning him in a 180-degree fashion. “Well, biggums…I’m sad to see you leave the Bunk…but rules are rules…now, there’s only one thing left to do.” And Diego braced himself, hoping his belly covered the exposed fly of his shorts, as he felt the enormous stamp flying out across the air and pressing squarely in his extremely-wide ass.
                He gave an involuntary squeal of embarrassment that thrilled the Coaches. And then, looking more pathetic than ever, Diego turned to look at the mirror over his shoulder, taking in the stamped image of a turkey that now replaced the teddy-bear print on his caked-up ass.
                “Well, then,” said Coach Jason. “All there is for us to do now is to roll you on down to your new bunk and introduce you to the other tubby butterballs!”
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james-is-here · 5 months ago
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OH MY GOD WAIT HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE AND I CAME UP WITH THIS!!!
Includes Dad Channie because I'm a sucker for Dad SKZ.
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Chan was waiting in the spot he was told to stand for the photographers and he spots a familiar white camera with sticky gems all over it in the mix of photographers, the photographer behind the bedazzled camera has a kid on his shoulders, small hands holding himself up on the persons head, a mask and small green bucket hat covering his face and the other wore a mask with a black baseball cap.
He couldn't stop the smile that took over his face when the kid waves and he can hear a faint "Wolfie!" come from him as he pointed to the idols bag. The male under the boy lowers his camera after capturing the idols smile and pats the kids leg while his eyes looked up in the general direction of the kid. He looked back down and Chan could see a smile take over his face under his mask.
When Chan was brought out of his small world, his chest tightened as he realized he had to wait even longer. He looked from the person trying to guide him to the car to the photographer, who nods, smile still on his face as he says something and both him and the boy wave at Chan. He gives back another wave that looks like he's waving goodbye to the rest of the people taking photos but lingers on the two in the middle just a little longer than the rest.
You were out before the others, walking back to your own vehicle. "Where he go?" "He had to go to his car, buddy. We'll get to see him when we go home." The boy whines and you feel more of his weight on your head. "Oh, Buddy..." You stop and kneel down so he can slide off your shoulders before you turn around and pick him up and hold him tightly.
"Saw Dada, wan' Dada." "I know, Jinho, I know. We'll see Dada soon, okay? Why don't we surprise him and your uncles with food, huh? and I'll get you ice cream?" He nods into your shoulder. "Okay." You answer back.
You reach your car and buckle him into his car seat. "Can I have Dada photos?" You smile, reaching into your camera bag to pull out a small photo holder that has printed out pictures you've taken of Chan in the past.
"Here you go." "Tank ku, Appa." "You're welcome, Buddy." You stand up and move to the other side of the car, putting your bags in the other seat then moving to the drivers seat. "Ready?" "Yeah." You smile and start the car.
You got the food and ice cream but Jinho fell asleep, luckily you weren't too far from home. When you got home you managed to balance a toddler on your hip, your camera bags on your shoulder, and the food and cup of semi-melted ice cream in your hand.
You had to use your foot to knock on the door when you reached the apartment and Jisung barely got a word out when you reach the cup out towards him. "Freezer, quick." "I- Okay."
You walk in and were hoping to see him but you only saw the usuals of the first apartment plus a stray chicken. "Here, Lix, take your cuddle buddy." The younger smiled happily and took the toddler into his arms, moving to lay on the couch and throw his legs over Hyunjin's.
"Where is he? Did I manage to beat him here?" "No, he's in his room." Changbin said from his place on Hyunjin's lap next to Felix's legs.
You make your way over to the room and crack the door open slowly. A smile takes over your face when you see he's half unpacked, laying on his bed and in his hands hovering above him is Jinho's shirt. You close the door and make your way back out to grab your boy.
"He took one of Jinho's shirts with him, that's adorable." You chuckles lightly as you gently pick up the boy from Felix's hold. "Are you serious?" "Yeah. Was looking for the shirt for weeks, even before Chan left, almost tore up my apartment looking for it cause it was his favorite. I wonder how long he's actually had it." You cradle the boy against your chest and he buries his face into your neck. "Oh, go ahead and eat, the other boys can too." "Thanks for the food, Mn." Jisung says as he moves to unpack it. "Of course."
You walk back to Chan's room and slowly open the door to find Chan now holding the shirt to his chest and an arm thrown over his eyes. You look down at the boy in your arms and gently pat his back. "Jinho...Buddy..." "Hm?" "Wanna go to Dada?" You whisper and he's leaning up from your shoulder and rubbing his eyes. "Dada?" "Yeah, buddy, look." He turns to see Chan and squirms in your arms so you put him down.
He takes a moment to rub his eyes and stretch before sleepily walking further into the room. Chan doesn't notice until Jinho is climbing onto the bed and he moves his arms, gasping softly. "Jinho!" "Hi Dada." Chan sits up, lifting the boy up to place him on his lap and his hugged him tightly, rocking softly. "Were you good for Appa?" He nods then leans forward and crashes into Chan's chest. "You sleepy?" He nods again and Chan hugs him tighter, laying back down with the boy on his chest.
After watching the interaction, you walk in and Chan's smile got impossibly bigger. "Mnie!" He called you, almost like cooing at you as he reached out to you. He turns to his side with Jinho as you move his bag so there's more room as you lay down in front of him. "Hi Channie." You kiss his forehead then kiss the top of Jinho's head and smile at Chan.
"How was it?" "Really fun but I missed you and the kids." "What about Jinho?" "He's apart of 'the kids' is he not?" You giggle softly and lean forward to place your forehead on his, sliding a hand under his tank top and he sighs softly.
The only noise in the room was the air con, Jinho's soft little snores, and the muffled noises from the living room. "I brought food." You whisper. "Later." "Okay."
You open your eyes to find he's already staring at you. "Whatcha thinking about?" Your hand rests on his waist, your thumb rubbing back and forth on his smooth skin. "This. I love when you come with us when we travel but when you don't I'm glad I get to come home to you and Jinho." Your right hand moves from under your head to Chan's cheek and you thumb his cheek under his eye.
"I really don't deserve you." "What you mean?" "I was just a single dad photographer and you're an idol, producer, model and more. I'm nothing special and yet you still chose me...Not too late to drop me." Chan had an unreadable expression on his face as he pulled away from you, taking Jinho with him as he steps out of his room. You hear him ask one of the boys to take the toddler and Felix of course takes him.
Chan comes back in, closing his door and moving back to the bed but instead of sitting next to you he kneels on the bed then throws a leg over your own to sit on your lap. "Wha-" You're confusion was interrupted when he suddenly held your face and attacked your face with kisses until you're confused stuttering turns into a wide smile and giggles.
When he was satisfied, he pulled back and smiled at your red face and ears. "C-Care to e-explain?" You get out through giggles as you lean into his touch. "I am never going to drop you. You are the most amazing person I've ever met. I never told you this but I walked into my photoshoot with you and it felt as if I've known you the whole time. You were so sweet and kind and you made jokes to get me to smile but honestly all you could've done was compliment me with one word and I'd smile. I felt so comfortable around you."
"Channie..."
"Then your phone rang and I let you answer it and it was your nanny with your little boy. You were so happy when talking to him and honestly your smile was so adorable. I didn't care that you were a single dad, I still liked you and I loved you around the third photoshoot. Don't get me started on Jinho, he's the cutest little guy and I feel incredibly happy every time he calls me 'Dada'. The first time he did, I cried." "Y-You did?" "I did. It felt like my heart was ripped out, I was a mess cause it was the cutest thing ever."
You pull him closer and tighten your arms around him, burying your face into his neck. "Chris...I love you so much." "I love you, too, Mnie." His arms wrap around your neck just as tight as you, leaning down to rest his forehead on your shoulder.
"Channie?" "Yeah?" Neither of you pull away, instead choosing to hug each other tighter. "I really, really, really want..." You take a deep breath. "I really want to marry you..." You feel his breath hitch and his hands slide across your back to rest on your shoulders as he pulls back to look at you. "What?" "I want you to be my husband...and I want to be yours...nothing has to happen now if you're not ready I just wanted to let you know that I really want you to be my husband."
"Y-You're kidding." He reaches behind him to where you put his bag at the end of the bed and pulled out a box. Sitting back up, he opens the box to reveal a silver band that had an asymmetrical line that looked like black crystal. "I am absolutely ready, please."
A wide smile takes over your face, your hands reaching up to hold his face and you lean forward to firmly attach your lips to his. He giggles and pushes into you slightly, cradling your jaw with the box still in his hand.
He giggles with a yelp when your hands moved and your arms wrapped around his waist and you leaned back, picking him up only slightly off your lap before your left hand moved to his thigh and you turn to lay him down, pulling back and hovering over him. "What if it was just us and the boys for now? Nothing too big. Maybe we could have a real one on an anniversary or something." "That's perfect."
He takes the ring out of the box, tossing that to the side, then slides it onto your finger. He smiles when he sees it fits and intertwines his fingers with yours and moves it back next to his head, his other hand pulling you down by your neck into a searing kiss before his hand moves to hold your jaw when you tilt your head slightly.
You pull away but only for a moment. "You free tomorrow?" "Only at lunch." "I'll pick you up and we'll go for food and ring shopping, yeah? Wanna get you one." "Okay, that sounds good." You reattach your lips to his and lick his bottom lip, his lips part and you barely lick into his mouth before you're jolting apart and looking up at the door.
"Ew, daddy's are kissing." Hyunjin was at the door with Jinho on his hip. "Ew!" The toddler giggled before it turned into a laugh when Hyunjin tickled him. "Hyunjin, what do you want?" You lean up and sit back on your heels as Chan drops one of his knees but his right hand is still connected to your left one, playing with the ring.
"Your food is getting cold and Jinho needs a diaper change." Hyunjin makes a disgusted face and sets the boy down who runs over and climbs onto the bed. "Appa tell you some'fing?" "What's up buddy?" You brush his hair out of his face. "Puppy gave soda." Suddenly Hyunjin bursts into laughter, clapping his hands as he practically falls into the hallway.
"Seungmin, he said it!! He ratted you out!!" "Little monster!!" Seungmin then comes in and tickles the boy until he's all giggles and shrieks. "Okay, Okay, can I change him before any sort of mess happens?" You smile widely as you pick the boy up and move to the floor, putting down his changing mat.
After, while sitting in the living room with the boys, Jinho on your lip drinking his juice under the blanket you share with Chan, you smile softly as you kiss the top of the boys head and look over to Chan who leans on your shoulder, his right hand still fidgeting with the ring on your finger with a barely noticeable smile.
"So..." Felix spoke up and you all look at him while he looks at you and Chan. "...When did Chan propose?" The room was filled with questions and confusion and congratulations.
And despite the chaos you couldn't be happier.
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ash-arts-but-sinful · 1 year ago
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This is burning a hole into my brain, but what if new game+ gave you the option to summon Carlo instead of Specter and he offers stupid/witty commentary for each boss you fight with him. Tbh this is just for fun, but I wanted to share in case anybody else might like it
Might have to put this one under a cut it could get long. Also spoiler warning!
Scrapped Watchman
• I never liked cops, this is going to be fun!
• Do we really need a watchman this big?
• Okay Sparky, let’s dance!
• (if he gets picked up) Shit-! -> Ugh- okay that might’ve hurt a little.
• Haha! Good riddance! Don’t know what the local kids saw in that thing.
King’s Flame
• Oh boy, a walking furnace.
• Have I ever mentioned I hate the heat?
• The floor is lava! Shit!
• (if he’s set on fire) I know I’m hot, but this is ridiculous! / Hot! Too hot!
• Sigh, thank god. I could never work alongside that… thing.
Archbishop
• Oh wow, that is… hard to look at.
• Watch the chicken legs!
• Really?! With its tongue?! Disgusting!
During phase 2
• How did he manage to get even uglier?
• You should’ve stayed in your shell!
• God chose you to be an Angel alright. Just not a living one.
Black Rabbit Brotherhood
• Some rabbit, the big guy looks more like a pig to me!
• Would somebody shut her up!
• Half of you aren’t even rabbits! That stupid bucket looks like a dog!
• You are too full of yourself, bunny boy.
• These guys need better fursuits
• Pathetic… And don’t bother coming back!
King of Puppets
• Something feels wrong about this.
• That voice…
• No… It can’t be-!
Second phase
• Romeo?!
• Romeo please! Why won’t you stop, it’s me!
• How do we get through to him?!
• No!!! UGH Why wouldn’t you LISTEN?! *shakey inhale* Damn it, just go! Get out of this damn place.
Victor
• What do you want? Are we killing my best friend in disguise again?
• I finally get to see this guy in action and I’m the one who has to fight him! Seriously?!
• This guy really is all washed up.
• That can’t be good for you.
• Yikes, those fists pack one hell of a punch!
• That Simon guy is a real piece of work. Good luck with that.
Green Monster
• Ohh this thing looks disgusting.
• It sounds disgusting too, I think I’m going hurl!
• It slimed me!
Phase 2
• Not the giant cop again!
• Would you! Just! Sit! Still!
• I can only imagine what it smells like in that puppet chassis.
• That was truly vile. If you ever need help fighting a giant slime monster again PLEASE hesitate to ask.
Black Rabbit Brotherhood 2
• Didn’t you learn your lessons last time?
• Lord, are these guys full of themselves.
• If you couldn’t beat us last time what makes you think you can this time?
• Looks like the pig wants his bacon cooked again!
• You had to mutate yourself because you wouldn’t beat us last time? Now THAT is pathetic.
• Still losers. Still pretentious. Still pathetic. How disappointing.
Laxasia
• Hmm. Big sword.
• Oh and it makes lightning too, great!
• How can she move so fast with all that armour!?
Phase 2
• Ohhhh good, now she’s even faster!
• Weakness to it or not electricity still hurts like hell!
• There she goes into the air again. Coward!
• Well that wasn’t fun, but I suspect it’ll be even less fun in that tower.
Simon
• Isn’t that the guy from the exhibition?
• This guy is a real piece of work.
• And I thought the rabbits were full of themselves!
Phase 2
• I didn’t think it could get any worse!
• Who needs this many hands?!
• God or not this guy is going down!
• The last like after Simon is defeated depends on your playthrough: Truth “Until next we meet. Which will be sooner than you think, I can’t wait.” Punctuated by a dark chuckle. Lie “I’ll see you again soon. For what it’s worth though… I’m sorry.”
Bonus: depending on what playthrough you did the Nameless Puppet will actually talk and have different dialogue
Truth playthrough/Lie playthrough
• I’ve been waiting for this for too damn long. / I didn’t want it to come to this.
• You don’t deserve that heart! It’s rightfully mine! / Please, you have to understand! I need that heart!
• You stupid puppet, I hope you didn’t think father actually cared about YOU! / Gepetto never cared for you, I wish he had, at least you could’ve known love.
• Why won’t you DIE ALREADY!? / I deserve to live too, this isn’t fair for either of us!
• You will NEVER be me, just give up already! / You may not be me, but you deserve better than this.
During Phase 2 the puppet won’t speak, but Carlo’s dialogue will be inserted along everyone else’s, tbh I want to have him say something during phase 2, but there’s already so much going on during that fight. In a truth playthrough the ending will play out as normal and Gepetto will die, calling Pinocchio a useless puppet, Pinocchio will be the one to finish off Carlo’s vessel. In a lie playthrough Carlo will finally be able to control his actions and is unable to finish off Pinocchio, he shuts himself down while giving one final line.
“Maybe in another life we could have been… brothers.”
Gepetto is distraught and instead of shedding tears for his father Pinocchio sheds them for Carlo
A lot of his radient dialogue would consist of laughter that borders on unhinged and the usual exertion and damage taking grunts. Regardless of what playthrough you do he wants to keep either his heart or Pinocchio alive, so if his health falls below half he has a chance of reminding you to heal. Also depending on the playthrough he’ll either compliment perfect blocks, parry’s, dodges or hits for lies and for truths he’ll be a snarky asshole, claiming he could do just as good if not better
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brownieocean · 2 years ago
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Tinder in real life ( Harry Lewis x Reader)
Word count: 1,1k
Summary: You work as an influencer when you wake up to a call from your manager. She tells you about a chance to be on a video about tinder-in-real-life where you could raise your visibility and get more followers. You take the offer up and end up in a Sidemen video where you get to meet a certain shy, blond-haired boy who seems to have a liking to you.
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brrr brrrr
Your phone rang somewhere.
brrr brrrr
”Ughhhh” you groan as you reach for your buzzing phone on your bed. You pat empty spots a couple times because you cant be bothered to open your eyes this early getting more irritated by the second when your hand cant find your phone. 
brr-
”Hello?” You answered groggily.
”Rise and shine girl, i got u a job offer!” It was your manager.
”This early? Give me like 2 more hours n call me again, i cant think rn”
”No, i need to give a response now if youre in or not”
”Ughh fine, okay what is it?”
”They cant disclose much, but its a tinder-in-real-life type of video and they’re getting a bunch of girls on it”
”Girl what.”
”It's a good way to raise your following! get your name out there, they get tens of millions of views every video, i really think you should do this”
”Hmmm alright when is it?”
”It's next month, ill send you the address and time closer to the date”
”Mhhmhm ok gnight ttyl”
”Oh and don’t forget to do the-
You hung up on your manager, shes great at her job but sometimes shes a bit too hyper. You throw your phone away and pull the covers further over your head.
It's been about a month and you’ve been getting more anxious every passing day about this video you promised to be in. It is tomorrow and you don’t feel prepared at all. You would need to put on your best smile and make yourself entertaining and likable so you could get as many people to follow you after the video was posted. Your biggest fear was that you’d say the wrong thing or completely embarrass yourself in front of millions and millions of people. 
You walk into the studio and step into a line of beautiful girls. You knew you were pretty but these people were all breathtaking. The line went by fast because it was just a security and id check and after you were guided into a room to wait. You went on your phone to pass the time while some of the girls were squeaking about getting to meet "The Sidemen".
Soon it was your turn. Hands sweating you left the waiting room and walked over to where the tape was placed for you to stand on. You saw a line of about ten guys, some chatting amidst themselves and some giving you awkward smiles. Infront of you there was a cardboard frame with yes and no stickers at the bottom representing tinder. 
You noticed you were fiddling with your ring and made a mental note to try and not look so nervous. “Okay, first introduce yourself, say your name, age and where you’re from” yelled someone from the camera crew.
You took a second to calm your nerves. “Hi, I’m y/n, I am 21 years old and I’m from Brighton!” You smiled at the guy ahead of you. 
He was tall and confident. “Hi, I'm Simon, I’m 27 and I bet I could touch your belly button from the inside!” You saw him cringe at himself.
“Eughh” was heard from the herd of men. “You winced when you said that, I don't even think you wanted to say that” you laughed. “I know, '' he said as you guided him to the left with your hand. Time went on and you kept swiping people based on their lines. You were nearly halfway done and you were having the time of your life.
Next up walked a cute blonde boy who seemed even more nervous than you, if that was possible. He was holding a notebook with both hands where he had scribbled in earlier, probably trying to come up with good pickup lines. 
“Hello, im harry I’m 23.. uhh”
He glanced at his notebook
“Girl you got more legs than a bucket of chicken”
You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that he had written that down, and thought it was good. 
Every guy laughed while he stood there sending you an awkward smile, fiddling with his notebook. He was having a hard time keeping eye-contact since he was nervous but he tried his best. Something about him made you unable to stop smiling.
“I liked that, plus you’re cute so…” you swiped him right. He did a little “hooray!” with his hands and walked up next to the guys you had said yes to.
After saying yes to Harry you kept sharing sneaky glances with him. Every time you looked over at him, he was already looking straight at you. You noticed he hadn’t stopped smiling since getting there.
Rest of the group went by quickly, lastly you gave a little recap on why you rejected the people you did and then you were on your way. While walking away you looked back one last time and gave Harry a smile checking him out. And he seemed like he was about to say something but decided not to. Shame.
You walked trough the waiting room, where there were only 4 more girls waiting for their turns, to where your jacket and bag were. You felt happy because you did well and it was over. You couldn’t wait to be able to see the video in a couple of weeks. Just as you were about to open the door to leave 
“Hey! y/n wait!” You were surprised he remembered your name
“Oh hi! did I leave something?”
“Just my number haha! uhh anyway..” He scratched the back of his neck holding his phone in his hand.
“..so yeah i was thinking maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Id like to get to know you more.. or i mean if you want that is.. so uhh”
“I would love to! Here” You took his phone and put your number in it. 
“Text me -
“Harry where the hell are you ? We have to wrap this up” 
You heard somebody yell
Harry looked at you and smiled. You nodded signaling that he should go. He jogged back over to the set looking back at you once more.
And there you were walking back inside your apartment smiling from ear to ear when your phone received a notification.
Imessage:
“Hi its Harry from that video! are u possibly free on saturday?”
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sowritten · 4 months ago
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TO WONG FOO, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING! JULIE NEWMAR
feel free to edit pronouns, etc. as needed
If we're going to be friends, there really is something I should tell you.
I can tell you one thing about them founding fathers of America; they sure had fabulous wigs.
Your approval is not needed.
I've waited my whole life to hear those words. And I'm very, very, very happy that you're the one to say them.
Nothin' this pretty could be real.
What in gay hell?
Looks like it's the age-old dilemma: style, or substance?
I think of you as an angel.
I think that's healthy!
Do you ever, like, not cry in this room?
Baby, you can have him.
I got a million dream lovers, alright?
I've got a broken heart for every light on Broadway. And when one of them goes out, I just screw in another one, okay, hello good-bye.
I'm the Latina Marilyn Monroe. I've got more legs than a bucket of chicken!
I didn't ask to come on this trip, did I? No, I don't think so!
As soon as we get to the next town I am jumping on the first man and riding him all the way to New York City and away from you 'cause this trip sucks! It sucks!
How do I look?
I don't know who he is, but if there's a snowstorm tonight, he's going on my tires.
Since you have obviously learned nothing, I am hereby stripping you of all your princess points.
I don't need a dream. I have a plan.
That might be all fine and dandy but you still have a lot more to learn.
Does everything have to be a joke with you?
This is not a masquerade! This is real life!
Oh, my God, I'm like a compass near north.
You have the potential of a lifetime and you are squandering it.
I want you to turn your swayback little self around on those Robert Clergerie Knockoffs and get back in this car.
Larger than life is just the right size.
No one is so rich as to throw away a friend.
I'll bet you were the brightest in your class, weren't you?
I feel like Miss Jayne Mansfield in this car.
You gotta take chances, because you never know, you know what I mean?
I'm not gonna worry about if people accept me or not.
I'm gonna make Hollywood wherever I am at.
I want you to believe in yourself, imagine good things and moisturize, I cannot stress this enough.
There are times when you help people, and then there are times when if you help people, you end up being killed.
Go on and talk to him, you speak honky!
This America does not respond kindly to our sort of person.
No one say anything frivolous for the next few moments.
I am having a significant experience.
Try to describe her and not use the word "statuesque".
I've had enough of this conversation, I'm hungry.
Let's just relax. It's gonna be alright.
A car? Mary Alice Louise, no. This is a land yacht.
How you gonna hitchhike if there are no cars, stupid?
I'm not rich, my parents are.
It's like living in a Tex Avery cartoon.
Live life before it lives you.
If you want them to know there is steak for dinner, you got to let them hear it sizzle! Understand?
You ruin my language and I still love you.
I think I'm gonna black out.
Why is he on the ground?
I am not going upstairs with you.
If you were my girl, you'd never cry for anything, except maybe for happiness.
I think tomorrow is a "Say Something" hat day.
Lets throw you a pity party.
You're gonna be second class and you're gonna be second rate your whole life.
Don't quote me but I think this one is decease-ed.
Actin' real proud of yourself just like a New York City girl.
I tell you where I'm going, I ain't going nowhere.
If I was your bread, would you be my butter?
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topguncortez · 2 years ago
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Eyes Wide Shut
Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist
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synopsis: You are an Aviator and go down in a crash, now Bob is trying to convince you to wake up and help you complete your bucket list
prompt: [ BEDSIDE ] : sender waits by receiver's bedside as they recover from an illness or an injury.
warnings: medical inaccuracies (I got my medical degree from Shonda Rhimes University), description of injuries, failed ejection, mentions of death, angst, Bobby Boy being sad
word count: 1.5k
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It was quiet, except for the incessant beeping and soft hum of all the machines gathered around her bed. They were the only things keeping her alive. Keeping oxygen and blood flowing through her body. The annoying beeping was the constant reminder that her heart was still beating in her chest. It had been days since she had opened her eyes, and Bob feared she might never again. 
He had been sitting in the readiness room, reading through some military magazine when the distress call came over the radio. He stood up from the couch and quickly ran over to the radio, where Nat and Payback were crowding around. You and Hangman were in the air, doing a routine, or what should’ve been, hop against Javy and Rooster. Everyone had started to believe that Hangman had changed his ways, but it seemed as though everyone spoke too soon. 
“You need to eject! Punch out! Eject! Eject! Eject!” 
You were out there for two days. Your parachute carried you farther from the wreckage of your jet than the rescue crews had estimated. You were found barely breathing, dehydrated, and in a pool of your own blood. They took you straight to the hospital, rushing you into surgery to repair the broken leg you had sustained in the crash. But the doctors had feared that they were too late. That even though they had fixed your leg and internal injuries, that the mix of severe dehydration, blood loss, and swelling in your brain had caused irreparable damage. 
“Mav went ballistic on Cyclone today,” Bob said, as he held your hand, “You would’ve loved to see it.” 
Bob hadn’t left the side of your bed since you had been brought into the ICU. You weren’t allowed more than one visitor, in case you did wake up. The doctor said low stimulation was going to be the best for you. The brain was an organ that took a while to heal, and a quiet setting was ideal for patients like you. The doctor also told Bob that studies had shown that talking to comatose patients often helped their brains heal even quicker. 
“I don’t even know why Cyclone would bring up something like. . . bringing in a new pilot,” Bob scoffed, “That’s just fucking ridiculous. You’ll be back soon. And then you can tell Cyclone yourself that his idea was fucking ridiculous.” 
But, Bob knew that it wasn’t all that too ridiculous that Cyclone was searching for your replacement. You’d never fly again. The doctor had already told Bob that. You would never pass a physical to get cleared to fly. It was hardly ever that pilots who had crashes as bad as yours found themselves back in the air. They said it would be a miracle if you even stayed in the Navy, more than likely going to get a medical discharge. That depends on if you wake up. 
The thought ran through Bob’s head again and sent a shiver down his spine. He clenched his jaw, and sat forward a bit in his chair. He picked up your hand and held it in both of his. He pressed a kiss to your fingers, feeling tears well up in his eyes. You had to wake up. You just had too. There were too many things that you hadn’t done yet. You had hardly lived, being only twenty-seven. You had a bucket list, a lengthy one at that, that you wanted to complete. 
“Remember the other day. . . when you said that you were half way through your bucket list goal of eating chicken strips in every state?” Bob sniffled. He had laughed when you first said that, but then you showed him the map of all the states you had eaten chicken strips in, “Well, if you wake up, I promise that I’ll help you complete that. You hear that? You gotta wake up so we can cross that off our list.” 
The tears in Bob's eyes were now streaming down his face as he held your hand to his lips and cried. He was never one to cry. His father had told him once that crying makes you weak. But in this moment that was all he could do. He had run out of prayers to say. Run out of scripture passages to read. And now, the hope that he had in his body was also starting to run thin. 
It felt good to cry. It felt good to get all the pent up feelings he had in his body out. It had been eight long days of sitting by your side, holding your hand, being woken up every hour on the hour by doctors and nurses coming in to check your vitals, and hearing that constant beeping of the machines. Bob gently sets your hand back down by your side, running his thumb over the back of your skin. 
“And when we get to that fiftieth state, which I really want to be Alaska, cause it’s beautiful,” Bob took a deep breath, “I’m gonna ask you to marry me.” His blue eyes looked up at your rested face. 
Your relationship had been kept on the down low, fearing that one of you would be moved away from the unit if the higher ups found out. Somehow, you had been able to keep it a secret for nearly two years, but Bob reckoned that everyone knew now. It had taken Payback and Rooster to hold Bob back from charging at Hangman for putting you in the wake of his jet wash. They had never seen the quiet WSO so angry, nor did they know that he had a nasty right hook. Jake was still supporting a black eye. Everyone had confused looks on their faces when Bob ran from the shared office space and out the door on the day they had found you. Slowly, the pieces had been falling together. 
“I got a ring and everything,” Bob said, “You just gotta open your eyes. Alright,” Bob sat up in his chair, “You open your eyes, and the ring is yours. I am yours. Please, please.” Bob clasped his hands and rested his elbows on your bed in prayer, reciting the Our Father again like he had several times already. 
It felt like a jackhammer going off in your head. The idea of even attempting to open your eyes sounded like the worst thing in the world. It’s like seeing the bright light of morning shining through your window, and trying to stay asleep. But there was a pull, like a magnet, that was pulling you to just open your eyes. It was like hearing your mother call you home after the street lights had turned on. You knew that you needed to. That you should. But what was stopping you? 
Ever so slowly, you blinked your eyes open. The lights were bright, and you couldn’t quite focus your eyes on anything. The pounding in your head grew worse as you could somewhat make out a shape of a person sitting by your bed. You should’ve known it was him. You tried to turn your head the best you could, but you weren’t sure that you had any control over your body. You thought you were moving your hand to reach and grab his clasped ones, but you were no more than just moving one of your fingers. 
But somehow Bob felt that barely there brush against his forearm, and looked over at you. 
“Oh my god,” He grabbed your hand. Every fiber in your being felt like it had been lit up in flames as you used whatever strength you could muster and squeezed his hand, “I love you. I love you so much.” Bob moved forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You squeezed his hand again and slowly your eyes fluttered shut. 
Bob pulled away from you to look at you again, when a loud flatlining sound filled the air.
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I know longer have a taglist! follow my library page for notifications on when I post:) @cortezslibrary
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ohtobeleah · 2 years ago
Note
I just know Felix is going to cause a scene when she wakes up. But I’m ready, I can take it.
I was a little busier this week but I’m so glad it’s Saturday and I get to share this with you all. S always, here the Terms of Endearment Masterlist.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” There’s no rhyme or reason for what could have possibly just escaped Bradley Bradshaws mouth. Not only was the idea crazy, but what scared you more than anything was that you knew you had heard the mustache clad, Hawaiian shirt wearing, deep brown eye having ass Naval Aviator correctly. 
“You heard me.” Your daughter, Dot, was perched up on Bradley’s lap at the bar. Penny had given her some colouring pages and a bucket of crayons to entertain her while you enjoyed two for one night at the Hard Deck with Bradley. “Is it so hard to believe?” She liked Bradley, for whatever reason—she immediately gravitated towards him as you got to know him. 
“What’s hard to believe, Bradshaw, is that you’d want anything to do with me at all.” You remarked as you cut through your steak. Medium rare. You shook your head softly at the idea, God it would be such a bad idea to get involved with anyone now. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” You told him through doe eyes and a meek smile before you placed the cut piece of steak in your mouth. “I've just gotten out of a long term thing and I don’t even have my shit sorted here properly, and you’re asking me? Of all people! Out on a date?” 
Bradley, with all his good graces and his ability to fall head over heels in love immediately, looked down at your daughter, changed up the coloured crayon she was currently colouring with, he thought the grass should be green—not red, and smiled as he turned back to you, sitting beside him, like you had for the past five days after work at the Hard Deck. 
“I think you should take a leap and give me one chance to take you out.” 
“I think you’re delusional from all those G forces you’ve been pulling.” You met his smirk, squinting at each other as Dot squealed when Bradley tickled her sides to show her he was still actively engaged with her current enrichment activity. 
“Did you hear that? I think Dot here just said you should let me take you to dinner.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at how ridiculous Bradley Bradshaw looked, why he was trying it on with you you’d never truly understand. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, you held it out for Dot to take a mouthful. 
“Dot has a speech impediment and can’t even say your callsign properly.” You called Rooster out on his bullshit. “I don’t need you using my daughter to get in my pants, chicken man—“ 
“Chicken man?” It was hard to stop yourself from laughing as Rooster beamed at you with wide, all encompassing eyes. “That was a low ball.” You just pressed your lips together and tilted your chin up, proud of yourself. “And for the record, I’m not just trying to get in your pants.” 
“What are you playing then?” Bradley had been infatuated with you since the moment you opened Jake Seresins door a few weeks ago, only now you were friendly with one another, to know fault of your own. Rooster had seemingly made it his new life mission to mesmerise you, put a spell on you, he’d been on this dinner crap for two entire weeks now and there seemed to be no end in sight. He had convinced himself he had fallen in love with you—poor guy. 
“Let me take you out to dinner and I’ll be happy to give you an answer.” You could feel the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks as you placed your knife and fork down, wiped your mouth with the crummy napkin, and swivelled on your chair to face Bradley properly. 
“Bradshaw, trust me when I tell you I am the last person you want to get involved with.” You sighed, keeping Bradley’s gaze as he matched your energy and swirled his legs out from under the bar, bumping yours as Dot reached out to you with grabby hands—she was done with her colouring and just wanted her mum. “I'm damaged goods, I don’t play well with others, I’m a single mothers, you hardly know me and I’m living in my brother's spare bedroom—what about me screams love of your life?” 
Rooster didn’t answer right away. He simply eyed you off as you snuggled your cheek against Odettes as she cuddled into you. Giggling as she grinned ear to ear. Yep. He wanted you, all of you—and your little girl too. 
“Hard work is good for the soul.” Was all Bradley replied with as he finished his beer, noticing the sippy cup of juice you’d ordered Dot was empty. “And something tells me you’d be worth the grueling effort, Miss Fix It.” You couldn’t compute what you’d just heard, couldn’t comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was still proposing the rhetoric that you were worth any sort of effort from anyone. “Barkeep, I’ll get another drink for Fe here and another juice for her mini me—“ Rooster fished his wallet out from his back pocket as he stood, placing a hand on the small of your back as he manoeuvred himself behind you. “Start a tab for the juices.” 
“No, Penny, don't do that.” You shook your head. “I can pay for my daughter’s drinks, mine too.” Bradley kept his eyes trained on Penny as she held her hands up in defeat, knowing that Rooster would just tell her at a later date that he’d put a credit down. “You’re a menace Bradshaw.” 
“And you’re gonna fall in love with me Y/l/n.” Bradley smirked, winking as he tilted your chin his way with his finger. “Only a matter of time—“ 
“Yeah, sure—in your wet dreams, Flyboy.” You taunted as Rooster stood so close you felt all encompassed by the scent of his cologne. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, challenging your taunt and raising you his own. 
“Trust me mama, with the amount of jacking off I've been doing these days with you around? I’m losing valuable inches.” Your jaw would have hit the floor if Bradley hadn’t had his finger there, holding your head still as he leaned in over you. Closing the gap slowly, you didn’t seem to want to do anything to stop him. Because you didn’t want this to stop, despite how unavailable you really were:
“I’m gonna tell Jake you’re sexualising me, perhaps then I can get some peace and quiet around here.” 
“You love it.” 
“Debatable.” 
“I’m gonna kiss you now—“ 
“Wait What?” Before you could even fathom what Bradley was doing, his lips were on yours. Softly and ever so gently, he pressed his supple lips to yours in a moment of balls and madness. If Jake walked in any second now Bradley knew he was a deadman. But he couldn’t help it—he just needed to feel your lips on his just once. 
Rooster wasn’t expecting the kiss to last, he just thought he’d try and cop a sneaky peck. But when you snaked a hand around to the back of his head to keep him drawn close and against your lips? Bradley felt his entire world shift. He was down bad. 
“Tooster!” Dot babbled in your lap as she brought her little hands up to push against Bradley cheek, forcing him to break the kiss and pull back. “No kiss my mamma! Ownly I kiss my mamma—“ Bradley widened his eyes in pure shock as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth and laughed at the absolute scolding your two year old had given Bradley. His cheeks were bright crimson as he tried to find the right words to say to your daughter. 
“Can’t we share?” Bradley settled for that as he crouched a little to meet Dot's height in your lap as he gave you a much needed moment to compose yourself after your moment of weakness. Knowing you really couldn’t do this, not because you didn’t want to or didn’t like Bradley, but because you simply weren’t good enough for someone as kind and as beautiful as him. “My mama always said sharing was caring?” 
“No, she’s my mamma.” Dot stated a matter of factly before Penny was dropping your drinks off at the bar. 
“The two year old has spoken, Tooster.” You giggled. “I’m flattered by your persistence, really I am—“ You took a deep breath in and sighed. “But like I said, I'm damaged goods and you deserve better than broken.” 
“My mother would turn in her grave if I didn’t see this through.” Bradley explained, knowing he was going to have to work for you so much harder than he’d ever worked for anyone ever. But you were every bit of it worth the time, the patience, the effort, everything. “I’m gonna win you over Y/n, just you watch.” Rooster left it at that, turning on his heels to go suss out the game of darts Coyote and Fanboy had started up. 
“Oh, eyes peeled Bradshaw, I’ll be watching.” You shouted at him as he waved you off politely. Sending you a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. “In a million years, huh baby?” You cooed as you turned your attention back to Dot in your lap, her back against your chest. “Thanks for having my back, wingwoman.” 
“I’m gonna pretend like I didn't see that happen.” Jake groaned in your ear as he came up behind you, thumbing the back of your head with the palm of his hand. 
“Ow!!” You hissed, watching as Jake came to sit beside you in the barstool Bradley had only just moments ago vacated. “He kissed me, thump him!” 
***~****~****~*****~****~****~
There wasn’t an awful lot of noise that inherently pulled you from your drugged up haze, but the steady rhythm of a heart rate monitor and the incredibly loud sound of Jake Seresin snoring has your frowning before your eyelids even peel away from one another. 
“Jake—“ You grumbled, you couldn’t move your jaw. What the hell? “Wh—“ Reaching up to touch your lips, you tried to open your mouth again. Only this time you let out a whimper when you tried a little too hard, feeling wire strain and stretch as tears flooded your eyes. “Ow—“ 
Your face felt incredibly puffy to the touch. Swollen skin that mimicked the colours of a rainbow throbbed painfully under the tentative touch of the pads of your fingertips. You could see, barely—but you saw enough to recognise that you were in a hospital. 
As you tried to push yourself up on your elbows a little more to get a better look again, you hissed out a jaw clenching groan when a sharp pain radiated across your upper torso. Clutching at the painful area under the hospital gown you found yourself in. You felt prickly stitches. Fuck. 
At the sudden juxtaposition of your painful cries, Bradley shot up from the place he’d fallen asleep beside you in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for. But when he sat up, a drool patch remained on the side of your bed his cheek had been pressed into. 
“Y/n—“ Bradley cooed, still groggy from his impromptu nap as he rubbed his eyes and slid as close to you as he possibly could in the chair he hadn’t left. “Dot’s okay, he didn’t hurt her baby, Jake was on it pretty quickly.” Bradley knew the first thing that you were going to ask about was your daughter. As he reached to push your hair up and away from your forehead, Bradley smiled at you as he stood, leaning haphazardly over you. “Please don’t try to talk too much alright? You broke your jaw, it’s wired closed for now but if you need to—move your lips, talk through your teeth.” 
You simply nodded quietly in responses still frowning as Braldey took in the sight of you. His heart had never been filled with so much emotion before. He was forever grateful that you were alive, that you were such a fighter, but his heart was crying at the same time because to see you like this would bring any man to his knees. 
“I love you so much you know that right?” He choked out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth for a second to stop himself from crying. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of you—not when you needed reliability and strength in numbers. He needed to be a pillar of unconditional strength and support. “You are the strongest, most fierce woman I have ever met and you have no idea what an incredible honour it is to be able to call you my girl.” 
“Everything hurts.” You spoke softly and with caution as you tested the waters. “And my lips are really dry.” Bradley couldn’t help but to chuckle as he reached for the tube of lip balm on the side table. Squeezing some onto the pad of his index finger before applying a thin, glossy layer ever so attentively. 
“Better?” He cooed. 
“Much.” You replied. Allowing a moment of silence to fall between you as Bradley sat back down in his chair. Sighing as he turned his head to where Jake still sat sleeping in a heap. “Jake asleep?” 
“Yeah—the guy passed out when he found out what happened.” Bradley explained and your heart melted. “He really does love you.” 
“I know.” You sighed, you knew how lucky you were to have Jake in your life. You’d always known that. “He’s a good guy, I don’t think I give him enough credit for everything he’s done for me.” You couldn’t help but to get a little choked up. “But I don’t think I give you enough credit either, chicken man.” 
“Oh woah—“ Braldey chuckled as he pulled the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing you a couple of times as he smiled against your hand. “I haven’t heard that one in a while, Miss Fix It.” 
Again there was a moment of peaceful silence shared. Only until Bradley thought it was an appropriate time as ever to let you know what was going on. 
“Jaidyn’s in custody.” Was all Bradley said as you took all of what that could have meant in. “Dots at Paybacks play but we talked it over and decided that when you woke up Jake was gonna go get her and take her back to his place.” The explanation had a fatal flaw, why couldn’t Jake just bring Dot here? “He just wanted to see you awake first.” 
“Can he bring her here?” There was a pause you didn’t like as you looked at Bradley and the way his face remained stoic and frozen, like he was scared to death to say what he had to next. “Rooster, Jake can bring Dot here, can’t he?” Again, there was no response when you asked to see your daughter. Not because Bradley was trying to panic you—he just couldn’t get the words out. “Answer me.” 
“We don't think it’s best if she sees you like this.” Nothing could have broken you more. “We think that if she saw you like this, then she’d be traumatised Fe.” 
“Who’s we in this decision?” You were physically starting to get upset, Bradley could see it from a mile away. “Rooster who the fuck is we!?” 
Jake Seresin had woken up around the time Bradley was glossing your lips up with his tube of carmex. But he’d chosen to give the two of you a minute to just be. He pretended to still be asleep, perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea after all. So when he was groaning out a stretch to cut the rising tension in the room. you turned your head to face him. 
“We, is me—“ Jake sighed as he stood, padding over to your bedside with a solemn expression. He hated seeing you like this. “Fe I love you, and you have no idea what I’d do to protect you, but Dot can’t see you like this, you look like you just went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa.” 
“Jake—“ You tried reason with him, except all Jake did was lean over, kiss your forehead softly and ever so gently, before giving you a look that spoke louder than any reason, any excuse he could speak into words. 
“I’m sorry I let you down.” He whispered just above a whisper. “But I've got a chance to make sure I don’t let Dot down too, she can’t see you like this Y/n.” 
“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” It was clear to everyone in the room that you were spinning off into a tailspin. “I am her mother! You have no say.” Through a painful groan, you sat up. Unbeknownst to you as you allowed your emotions to overwhelm you, Bradley was hitting the little nurse’s button to alert the nurses at the nurses station that you needed assistance and needed it fast. “You don’t get to do this to me, please don’t keep her from me.” 
“I do.” Jake knew if anyone had to deal out the tough love it had to be him. There was no way Odette deserved to see her mother like this. You didn’t deserve to have to subject her to that. A few days, that’s all you’d need. Allow the swelling to go down, the colour to fade a little. “You might not like it but I do get to make that decision for you and I have, because I know you know deep down I’m right.” 
“Jake, I swear if you don’t go get my daughter and bring her to me right now.” You were moving around an awful lot for someone who’d just woken up after having an entire organ removed from your body. “I’m serious!” Not that you knew that at this point. 
“Y/n, you gotta stop moving around, please lie back down.” Bradley was trying his hardest to be the voice of reason as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder—he just wanted to die when you shuttered under his touch. A momentary lapse in judgement had him forgetting about just how battered and bruised you were underneath your hospital gown. “Shit, I’m sorry Fe—“ 
“Please just let me see my daughter.” Both Jake and Bradley hated the fact they had to deny you that right, to see your own child. “She’s my baby, I need to see her.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed as you pleaded with Jake, you were losing control of any level headedness you had. “Jake—“ 
“I can’t Fe—“ Jake explained as Bradley saw one of the nurses step into your room. “It really wouldn’t be good for her to see you like this.” 
“Ah, I see someone’s awake!” She beamed. “How are you feeling, Miss Y/l/n?” She smiled, sensing the tension in the room and the worry in both Jake and Bradley’s eyes as they both turned to address her. “I must say I’m a little surprised to see you sitting up like this, how about we get you back in bed to rest up while we go over some or your charts post op?” 
“I don’t care about any of this, I just need to see my daughter.” You were tunnelling violently into haze, nothing was more important to you than Odette. Not even your own health and wellbeing. “I don’t care.” You wailed, trying but failing to tear your mouth open. “I don’t need these stupid monitors and I don’t need you telling me what to do and I certainly don’t need you making parental decisions on my behalf!” You were still addressing Jake who’d stepped back slightly when you flung your legs over the side of the bed, pointing a finger his way. “Go and get her!” 
“Darlin—“ Bradley knew he had to intervene before this got out of hand. “It’s not just Jake who thinks it’s for the best.” He tried to sound as calming as he could. “You wouldn’t want her to see you like this, and we’re not trying to control you, we’re just looking out for Dot.” 
When you turned your head to look at Bradley, he saw nothing but rage. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look again. 
“Keeping my daughter away from me, her mother! Means you are just as malicious as him!” You spat, not thinking about what it was you were actually saying or why Jake and Bradley were doing what they were doing. It was at the point when you tried to stand, that the nurse who’d answered Bradley’s button press shifted into action. 
“Oh dear—“
“He wanted to take her away from me and that's exactly what you’re doing!?” I trusted you!” You were inconsolable as tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. “I TRUSTED YOU!” As you ripped out the cannula in your forearm Jake had to intervene, he couldn’t watch this go on any longer as Bradley just stood there on the opposite side of the bed in complete shock at your hysteria. “Let me see my daughter! Don’t take her away from me!” You were just speaking into a void as Jake wrapped his arms around your tightly, holding you still as you thrashed and twisted and turned. “Don’t take her away from me, please—!” 
“Y/n, you gotta stop moving—“ Jake pleaded with you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Stop!” 
“Let go of me you self righteous piece of shit!” You screamed. “I can’t believe you, how could you do this to me!? SHE'S MY DAUGHTER! And IM HER FUCKING MOTHER!!” It all sounded a little odd because you were screaming through your teeth, groning as the pain threatened to take over you. But you fought it, kept screaming, kept spewing empty insults Jake's way. Jake and Bradley could hear you all the same though, regardless of your jaw, they could hear you, understand you—It all hurt the same.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself—“ Jake spoke as softly as he could as his own rage began to bubble to the surface. 
“I hate you!” It stung to hear. “I fucking hate you—!” 
“Stick and stones Fe, Sticks and stones.” Jake didn’t want to front that you’d struck a raw nerve. Your vicious words played on Jake's mind like an exposed nerve ending. 
“She needs to be sedated before she ruptures her sutures.” The nurse explained as she jabbed you with a pretty large amount of sedative that took effect in a few seconds as it coursed through your body. “She shouldn’t be moving around this much right after major surgery.” 
“She’s my daughter—“ You cried. Feeling an overwhelming numbness’s starting to overcome you. Coaxing you closer and closer into the black tunnel vision void. “My baby—“ Jake felt you start to go limp in his embrace, he’d give you credit where credit was due. You were fighting the sedative hard. “Don’t take her away from me.” 
“We aren’t Y/n, we’d never.” Jake cooed as you finally fell victim to the sedative.
“I’m gonna be sick.” Bradley exhaled as he turned on his heels and ran his hands through his sandy blonde locks. “Holy shit, what the fuck was even that—“ It broke Bradley’s heart to see you like this, so broken and scared and all out of sorts. The only thing that reassured him that he was doing the right thing was the fact that if he could barely handle seeing you like this, there’s no way Dot wouldn’t see your beat up self in her nightmares. “She’s a wreck.” 
“I’ll have to let the change over staff know what happened, I’ll pop it in her chart that she's been a little difficult and needed a sedative.” Jake was quite happy to help the nurse, who’d later introduce herself as Cindy—but Jake and Braldey already gathered that information by her nursing tag, back into bed. “I don’t think that she needs anymore unpleasant opinions thrust upon her while she’s recovering.” 
“There aren't many ways to sugarcoat the fact it’s in her daughter’s best interest to not see her this way.” Bradley explained. 
“Are you the father?” Cindy asked as she fixed up the thin blanket over your torso, deciding she’d need to set up a whole new cannula sight. Bradley just held his breath. 
“No ma’am—“
“Then I’d think carefully about the language you use in situations like this, you might be doing what’s right but try and put yourself in Miss Y/l/n’s shoes.” Nurse Cindy sighed as Jake yawned and rubbed a tired hand over his face, the sun was only just now starting to rise. Odette had been at the Fitch's all night. “She’s clearly been through hell, keeping her separated from her daughter may do more damage in the long run than good, for her at least.” Cindy shrugged, Bradley just nodded silently in agreement—he felt awful after having just witnessed you lash out in utter desperation. Female rage was no joke. “I’m gonna sort her out, perhaps you’d like to take five? Ten minutes to grab yourselves a bite to eat? A coffee perhaps?”
It was Cindy’s kind way of asking Jake and Bradley to give her some space to fix you up and do her job. Bradley, with trepidations lacing every thought he had—eventually agreed. 
“I should probably go get Dot.” Jake mentioned, every minute that passed was a minute longer she had spent in fear of what was going on around her. “I’ll take her home, get her sorted and maybe we’ll do some sort of zoom call or something?” He added, walking hesitantly towards the door with Rooster. Both men were so overly exhausted both mentally, emotionally and physically to the point where you really wouldn’t have been able to blame either of them if they turned their backs now. 
“I still think it’s a bad idea but hey, we’re just as bad as that dickhead for protecting her kid from PTSD.” Jake had an attitude problem, that was no secret. He’d been good over the last few months but with a mix of exhaustion and overwhelming anger, he couldn’t not help but to let out a little attitude. “But hey, mother knows best, right.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Should you be drinking this early?” By the time Jake pulled up to the Fitch household, it was nearing six thirty in the morning. “That’s like, almost something you feel like I should be concerned about?” Jake questioned as he shut the car door in the driveway. The first thing he saw when he pulled up was Amilia, enjoying a beverage in the early hours of the morning. Soaking up the sound of birds singing and the sun rising. Unbeknownst to Jake though Amilia hadn’t actually gone to bed. 
“Eh, I tend to stay awake at night because I don’t even know what my favourite colour is and I’m fucking terrified that I don’t have a real personality.” Amilia remarked as she laid perched up on the patio swing. “Haven’t actually gone to bed.” A two seated she’d made a one seater by propping her let’s up across the spare cushions. “And I’m not starting, I just never stopped, I dropped Bob off last night I just thought fuck it—it’s been a long enough day, why not make it a little longer.” Jake just huffed as he made his way up the porch. 
“In my opinion, drinking at six thirty in the morning isn’t normal—“ Jake stood before Amilia, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets, a tired, sunken expression on his face, and a whole lot of worry in his heart for you. “Alcohol isn���t a problem solver.” 
“At the risk of sounding flippant Lieutenant, opinions are exactly like assholes.” Amilia hadn’t even opened her eyes as she took the beer bottle to her lips and finished off the amber liquid, tilting her head as far back as her neck would allow her to move. “Everyone’s got one.” She finally opened her eyes and turned all her attention to Jake as she sat up, allowing him to take a seat next to her as she sighed and let her elbows rest on her knees. “I’ve got a job interview tomorrow at some bar Reuben got me hooked up with.” Amilia explained. “I was just sampling all your American alcoholic beverages.” 
“What’s the verdict?” Jake asked softly, he was hoping Amilia would have some sort of comeback for him. 
“They’re weak as piss, mate.” Jake snorted as he let himself rest against the back of the swinging chair. Amilia sat back too, pulling her legs up to cross over themselves. “She alright?” There was a lingering pause between Amilia and Jake before he decided to answer. He was done. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All Jake did was turn his head, he looked at Amilia for a few seconds before the dam broke. “Fuck, Jake—c’mere.” He did. Jake allowed himself just a moment of weakness as he let his tears fall freely as he moved into Amilias open arms. Just needing someone to tell him he was doing this right. 
Jake had never cried in the arms of a stranger before. But when Jake let his cheek rest against Amilia Fisher's chest, feeling her stroke his back and card her fingers through his hair. 
Jake felt home. 
“I can’t deal with that.” Jake cried. He hated being the bad guy in your eyes. “All I do is put her first and what? She calls us malicious?” Jake Seresin felt like a child, crying in the arms of a woman he hardly knew because his feelings were hurt. But he’d be damned if what you’d said didn’t hurt. 
“What happened?” Amilia asked softly as she just sat with Jake, allowing him to lay across her lap as she played with his hair. He was so fucking tired.
“I told her I wouldn't be bringing Odette to the hospital for a few days.” He explained with a sigh, revealing  in the feeling of Amilia combing through his hair. Looking up at her through teary eyes. “No two year old needs to see their mum in the state she is currently.” 
“Hmmm—“ Amilia pressed her lips together into a line and nodded, agreeing with Jake. “Why’d you nominate yourself as the villain?” 
“Because I didn’t want Rooster taking the brunt of that.” Jake groaned, covering his flushed and teary face as he took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “He doesn’t deserve that, if I know Y/n—which I fucking do, she’d push him away and they need each other.” Amilia just listened, she listened to Jake pour his heart out about how much he hated being the one behind your anger, he hated being the one who said you couldn’t see your daughter right now, but he’d rather be the one you blamed for all your misery and all your displare than have you put the blame on Bradley. “She told him she trusted him like he’d broken it or something, I just hope that the next time she wakes up she doesn’t say something she’ll regret in the long run.” Jake paused as he took a moment to look up at Amilia, just drinking in the sight of her, god she was fucking beautiful. “She needs Rooster just as much as he needs her and I can’t let that asshat of an ex ruin that for her.” 
“Woah, what in the world is going on out here huh?” Payback cooed as he opened the front door. He was gonna ask about what the hell was going on between Jake and his sister in law but that was a conversation for a later day. What mattered right now was getting Dot back where she belonged. “Is that uncle Jakey?” Jake sat up at the mention of his name with a groan, seeing the beautiful little girl that was Dot holding out her arms for him to take her. “You gonna tell uncle Jake how good you’ve been?”
“I been so good.” Odette mumbled softly as Jake took him in his strong arms, sitting her on his lap before she bawled her fists and rubbed at her tired eyes. “Where’s mamma?” 
“She’s okay baby, just needs a few days to herself. She had to get her spleen removed and she’s all tired and isn’t very fun to be around right now.” Jake tried to explain it the best he could without upsetting Dot. “But while mama rests and recovers, you get to hang out with me and Rooster and boy do I love when I get to hang out with you.” 
“What’s a spween?” Dot asked softly as Jake held his niece close to his chest, kissing the top of her head as he smiled against her hair. 
“An organ, it sits right here—“ He pressed his fingertip into Dot's side and she giggled. “Mamma didn’t need hers anymore so the doctor took it out of her before it could make her sick.” 
“And I get to hang out wif Tooster too?” 
“Mmhmm, he’s with mama now but what we’re gonna do when we get home is start packing some of your things up because when Mama comes home you guys are gonna go live with Tooster at his place.” 
“Oh shit for real?” Payback raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood watching the sun rise with Amilia, Jake and Odette. “That’s huge.” 
“In the grand scheme of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty four hours I highly doubt that’s what you're shocked at.” Amilia scoffed as she stood from the swinging chair. She paused as she crouched to boop Dot on the nose. “See you cheeky girl when I’m looking at ya.” Dot smiled back before she popped one of her thumbs in her mouth, an anxious tick she’d started to develop. “See ya Jake.” Amilia turned her attention to Jake as she smiled. Leaning in to kiss his still tear stained cheek. “I’m still pretty keen on Preston’s, just text me when things cool down for you.” 
“Yes ma’am.” Amilia was about to tell Jake off for calling her ma’am again, but she accepted it as a terms of endearment and left it at that. 
“You know you have a job interview with Penny at one right?” Payback looked at his phone, showing Amilia the date that was clearly displayed on the Home Screen. 
“I thought today was yesterday still, fuck!” She groaned. “Everythings fucking stupid here, your booze, your road rules, your stupid politics, it all makes no sense—“ Amilia stormed into Paybacks place and all he did was laugh, turning back to Jake who just sat there in the front porch with Dot in his lap. Rocking gently to keep her calm. 
“Hey man, my doors always open if you need someone to talk to, you gotta offload some pressure.” Reuben was a good friend, he always had everyone’s back. Jake really did appreciate the offer. 
“I think I’m gonna lose my best friend in all this mess man.” Jake held back more tears, like fuck was he about to cry in front of Odette. Biting his bottom lip as he took a deep breath, Jake sighed. “Some way he’s gonna take her, even if it is just emotionally, she’s gonna take it out on me and I’ll have no choice but to take it on the chin because I’d rather lose her and have her be alive than to lose her all together.” 
“You’re doing everything you can Hangman, don’t forget that.” Payback knew whatever had happened between you and Jake had been enough to have him second guessing his entire role in your life. But he’d let it play out a little longer before running any sort of intervention. 
“I wanna go home now—“ Dot mumbled against Jake's chest. He kissed her temple and agreed knowing that home was the best place for her to be right now. 
“Let’s go home bubba, let’s go home.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*
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ashiristic · 1 year ago
Text
SNIPPET 17:
The hero and the villain on a date.
——————
After years of stabbing, or getting stabbed, the hero finally, for the first time, got a date. The hero stands in front of the coffee shop’s glass door, his face blank, while his earbud continues screaming the following words in his ear: “Don’t fuck up or die.”. Yesterday felt like a dream. It is not like the usual bantering, opening each other’s bloody guts, and essentially talking are already a dream for the hero. But thank god because he had other plans, and the villain asked the hero out. The great villain asked him out in real life. At first, he laughed like it was the silliest joke he ever heard in his entire life. But the villain never laughed. He stared at the hero with that poignant gaze of his and said:
“I am serious.”
So here he is, waiting for the villain while still listening to positive affirmation to not fuck up. After years of almost permanently wearing his hero suit, he is finally wearing a casual white western shirt and plain cargo jeans. The only proper clothes in the sea of black polo shirts and skinny jeans. He ignores the people glancing at him, whispering words, and the squealing of girls when he looks at them. 
He doesn’t understand their reactions anyway. Because who likes a person sweating profusely with an odd small smile, and hollowed eyes out of a horror movie?
His gaze falls on his black leathered shoes, playing with the small gravel rock, his hands inside his warm pockets. The street is rather peaceful, except for the squealing he heard earlier, but it's beautiful. The coffee shop’s door reflects the sunlight, a small light caressing his cheeks, and a shadow forms on the ground. It imitates everything he does, but his leg looks like a cross when he moves them. And he let a warm smile envelop his lips, a small laugh bubbling in his throat. 
“You are more beautiful than I imagined,” a breathy voice called. 
The hero stops. His shadow displays a dog with an open mouth, and looks at his side, a man that is appropriately shorter than him is bowing on his face level, with a mischievous smile. He shrieks back, in a manly way, of course, and straightens his posture. He didn’t hear the sound of breathing until that person spoke. Playing with shadows is going to be a turn-off for the hero now. He almost had a heart attack. The man is wearing a white bucket hat, a bootcut, and d polo shirt. Even his white blouse that is not buttoned is white. The only colors on his canvas-like aesthetic are the golden chains around his neck and the lone yellow chicken holding a red apple pinned on the corner of the bucket hat.  
Nothing like the villain. 
“Who are you?” the hero says bluntly. He has no time for another crazy person, for the love of god, he wants to look perfect when the villain arrives.
“Uhh-” the man points at himself, “We saw each other yesterday?”
“No,” the hero shrugs, looking away nonchalantly, “I don’t remember anyone with such an…”
The man gazes at him. He blinks his eyes a few times, processing perhaps. Maybe he got the wrong person. But he smirks instead, going back to a normal human posture. If he goes like that any longer, the hero might’ve considered that normal. 
“I knew you wouldn’t recognize me,” the man lolls his head, and walks towards the door of the cafe, opening it. He turns his head to the hero, putting his index finger on his lips, and winks,  “But I am going to be your date for today.”
“What date? Are you in Wonderland right now?”
“C’mon, hero. I even pinned you on the wall just to tell you we are going on a date!” 
“Villain..?” the hero raises his eyebrow, hiding his severely trembling hand behind him. The frustration in mistaking your crush is evidently the worst experience in a person’s life. Like comparing your lover to a worm. 
“Yeah?” the villain raises his eyebrow, laughing at himself.  
“God, you look rigid. Where did that sunshine personality go?”
“It was all for work.” the hero answers, his hand waving in a robotic motion. He could hear the sirens behind him, the warning for a nuclear bomb, the meteor shooting from the sky, and hitting him directly to the face. 
“Well, I guess we don’t know each other after all.” the villain said, his eyes closed. He opens the door, the smell of ground coffee hitting him on the face instead of a meteor. “What a joke, isn’t it?”
The bell rings and a waiter welcomes the two of them, guiding them at a small table for two with the view of the sea. Peaceful and quiet. And nobody got a gun or knife in their hands which is fantastic. The villain settles on the table, his chin on his palms, his other hand tapping on the table. He looks serene. Unlike his usual grim smile and dark aura when he is the ‘villain’ as if the abyss finally overtakes the sun at last. If a person tells him that this person before him is the villain who can ruthlessly beat the supervillain into blood pulps of meat, he would laugh and call the mental health support for them. Because it is ridiculous.  
It is quiet. Awkward is the proper word. Nobody utters a word, not even while they’re eating. They continue this until the villain drops his spoon on the floor, breaking the silence. The hero is about to pick it up, but the villain kicks it far away. He crosses his arms, leaning back against the chair as he grins. 
“I didn’t know you weren't much of a talker?”
“Excuse me?” the hero asked, shaking off his trance.
“Welcome back,” the villain greeted him with a gentle smile, his eyes briefly grazing the sea. The sun hung in the sky, close to snapping off its loose, creating the dramatic entrance for the moon.
“Do you understand why people often compare their love to a moon?” 
A peculiar question, inviting the hero to ponder. He grabs the small wine on the table, taking a sip.
The hero, eyebrow’s furrowed, ventured, “Isn’t the sun more fitting? It means you are the light, and that darkness could never consume you. Because you’ll be in another-”
“Ridiculous,” the villain laughs, gulping the milkshake he ordered,  “The sun and the sky try to outshine each other. It doesn’t make the sun shine brighter because it is already stupidly bright.” 
“But-” the villain stretches his arm, shushing the hero from speaking. And the hero stops. Why is the villain even telling him this?  The hero obliged, curious about the villain’s sudden verbosity. He speaks, asking the hero odd questions he has to ponder to answer. He stands silently, watching the villain grin like a small child as he adjusts himself in his seat, spreading his arms to explain.
“But the moon…” the villain pauses, his tone shifting into a contemplative register. “It is the only light that the darkness couldn’t consume. Look at the stars for example, some of them don't even show up anymore which is ironic, but does the darkness care? Hell no, it doesn’t.”
The villain gazes at the hero, “If I tell you that you’re like the moon, will you believe me?”
Silence envelops them. Nobody speaks. The people in the background hushed One with betrayed surprise while the other exuded enigma. The hero harbored a plethora of questions, yet his lips remained sealed. How could they not? Uncertainty lingered, and the villain, somewhat defeated, withdrew his hand and glanced at the sea.
“It doesn’t make sense.” the hero answers, surprising the villain. The moon is beautiful and enthralling and he couldn’t compare to that. Never in his lifetime. But the villain… the villain is like the fragment of Aphrodite, ethereal and gorgeous. A fine beauty in the sea of monkeys. 
The hero sits down on his chair and continues sipping his glass of wine. He observes the villain’s eyes twinkling before dying down, and looking down as if lost in thought. Good. It’s working. Then he added, “I’m glad you’re not hiding anything,”
“What? That is not—”
“Contemplative, yet calm. Truly a gem in a sea of sharp and useless rocks.”
“Say that to yourself, you act like this all of a sudden… and…” the villain’s hand goes limp on his side, disappointment striking those beautiful eyes of his. Good thing he got wine, or else he wouldn’t be so bold. He wouldn’t fuck this up. 
“Are you trying to be cool?” the hero asked, eyes wide shot.
“What?” the hero deadpans.
“But I like you already, why should you—”
“That is ridiculous,” the hero stands up, yelling those words. But the villain only tries to stifle out a giggle as the people look at him, weirdly. 
“Don’t deny that you’re the moon, hero.” the villain said, pushing his plate aside to lean against the table. He circles his straw on the edge of his glass of milkshake, eyes unmoving and direct to the hero. “Because I wouldn’t blink twice to kill anyone destroying your precious place, and that is the spotlight.”
The villain hides his grin behind a smile, tracing his lips with the use of his index finger. He continues scrutinizing the hero, cocking his head, and raises his index finger, signaling the waiter to get their bill.
As the sun gradually descends, the night slowly shifts, embracing the warm hues of the sky into nothingness. The waves of the sea widen, and it can now meet the parts of the sand it couldn’t reach. How peculiar. The evening consumes everything it touches, and the villain vanishes with the sun. 
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jamiesfootball · 3 months ago
Text
Augusnippets Day 24
Alternate Prompt: flashbacks
cw: implied/referenced child abuse, referenced past choking/strangulation, flashbacks, panic attacks
Summary:
He shakes his head and swears warmly, the way he must’ve done a million times before– “I should fucking strangle you.”
Sequel to this
Here on AO3
It’s a fucking joke. Roy doesn’t really mean it.
It’s the third time that morning that Jamie tries to steal a sip from Roy’s water bottle, despite the fact that his own bottle remains halfway full. He’s spent all morning doing his best to rile Roy up – jogging faster than Roy can keep pace, singing the same four lines from that annoying pop song on repeat, running backwards ahead of him despite Roy’s repeated shouts that he’s going to trip and fall and then Roy’s going to make him crawl home.
Jamie grins at that. His bright orange water bottle sloshes as he tosses it back and forth between his hands, and he smarts back that that’s the only way Roy could beat him in a race. Then without pausing, he asks if Roy’s planning on using last night’s chicken to make chicken salad for lunch, because that’d be mint.
It’s a normal fucking day.
So when Jamie ducks into Roy’s space again, grinning wildly and unabashedly pleased with himself, it’s second nature for Roy’s arm to raise up to fend him off.
Also second nature: the low growl it elicits when Jamie dances out of reach. Roy doesn’t even consciously think about moving; his reflexes have him taking a step forward to catch his would-be water poacher by the nape. His hand cups around the back of Jamie’s neck. He gives it a short squeeze, and something irritatingly, blisteringly fond digs fingers into his ribs. He shakes his head and swears warmly, the way he must’ve done a million times before–
“I should fucking strangle you.”
Jamie, bouncy and restless and maddeningly cheerful, goes completely still. The skin under Roy’s palm goes cold, chilled like he’s been doused by a bucket of ice water. The light in his eyes flicks off, all traces of emotion blinking out of existence between one second and the next, replaced with a horribly blank nothingness. Like Roy’s accidentally gone and found the button that finally turns him off.
The neon-bright water bottle, with its stickers and spare headband wrapped around the lid, slips out of lifeless hands to fall dead on the grass. The cap spills open. Water sloshes everywhere. Jamie takes a quick step back. Then he wobbles, then his legs give out, and Roy barely manages to grab him by the shoulders. He guides him shakily to the ground.
“Hey. Hey. That’s it, easy. Down, that’s a good lad, that’s good. Come on, now, breathe for me..”
Jamie pulls his legs up to his chest, his forehead digging into his knees. He’s gasping now, his breaths turned into sharp, whistling hitches. One of his hands fists into his joggers; the other curls into his shirt, pulling the neckline away from his throat as he struggles to breathe.
Roy crouches beside him, running his hand along his back in rhythmic, steady circles, the way he would if it were Phoebe or Keeley or any of the people he was somewhat qualified to console.
After what feels like a million aching years, the panting begins to subside. The tension in his back unwinds. His hands uncurl, his fingers white with how painfully tightly they’d been twisted up. The front of his shirt is stretched beyond ruin, and his hand trembles as he tries to flatten it back down.
Jamie finally reappears, warily peeking up. He’s still pale-faced and blank, but there’s an alertness behind his red-rimmed eyes that wasn’t there before. Confused, he takes in the park and the grass and the old ladies in the distance and the parents with their prams and picnics before his attention finally lands on the person kneeling in front of him.
He croaks out a hoarse, “What?”
“Here,” says Roy. He holds out the water bottle that started this mess. “Drink this.”
He waits anxiously as Jamie unscrews the cap. He doesn’t take more than a sip, and even that small amount makes him sputter, coughing weakly into his shoulder.
After an elastic stretch of silence, Roy dares to ask, “Has that happened before?”
Jamie chokes on a laugh. It’s a scornful, cutting noise that Roy never wants to hear again. “Yeah. Yeah, you can say that.”
Roy frowns. “More than once?” He’d fucking hoped it was a one-off.
Jamie spins the bottle absently between his palms, watching the liquid swish around. With feigned indifference drawn around him like a shield, he shrugs. “A few times I guess.”
“Ok.” Roy nods woodenly. “All right.”
He settles his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie jumps a bit at the contact, but he doesn’t pull away, and Roy considers that a victory. He doesn’t know what the fuck else he’s supposed to be doing here. After witnessing something like that, it feels like he should have something to say, but he doesn’t. He should’ve asked Ted more questions. He should’ve joined the Diamond Dogs years ago, if only for the practice. He should’ve started therapy when he was nine.
After going in circles over whether or not it’s a stupid question, Roy takes the risk and asks, “Is there something specific that triggers it or some shit?”
Is there anything I can avoid to make sure that never fucking happens again.
The hastily drawn bravado trembles like a mirage. Jamie cocks his head, confused. A vulnerable shadow flickers across his expression. “What?”
“Is it you know-,” Roy spins his hand in the air, “-is it brought on by anything?”
They stare at each other blankly, two hamsters spinning on different wheels. Jamie’s speedy little rodent gets there a half second sooner. He shrinks back, his shoulders bunching up protectively around his ears. “Oh. Oh. You thought I meant-“
“What did you think I was talking about–“
It clicks.
Roy hates that it clicks.
He sits down on the grass; his sister can come pick him up later if he has trouble standing up. This is too important.
“Thought for a moment there that you were gonna choke me,” Jamie spells it out. Simple, ugly words that bruise to hear. “Knew you wouldn’t, but–“
“It’s happened before,” Roy finishes.
Jamie drops his head back onto his knees with a sharp exhale. Nods.
“I never knew when it was going to happen,” Jamie confesses. “I mean, I could usually tell when he was in a bad mood. Whether it was a bad day or whether it was something I had done. But I could never tell if it was gonna be… that.”
It isn’t news that his dad’s a piece of shit; it’s just the breadth of it that’s staggering.
Roy doesn’t think he’ll ever get to the point where hearing the details doesn’t make him want to put his fist through a wall — or better yet, James Tartt’s face. Honestly, he never wants to; he never wants to get to the point where he takes these harsh glimpses being shared with him for granted.
More important than all of that is the hunched figure sitting beside him, tearing grass from the earth in tense clumps as he waits for Roy’s verdict.
“Shit,” Roy says under his breath. “Jamie. That’s fucked up.”
Jamie freezes. Slowly, he unclenches his fist. Blades of grass trickle out of it, blown free by the wind. With a note of hope in his voice, he says, “Yeah?”
It’s such an earnest question it breaks Roy’s fucking heart.
“Yes,” Roy insists. “Fuck. Christ, Jamie. You didn’t deserve that shit.”
“Might’ve. You don’t know.”
“The fuck I don’t,” Roy snaps. “No one deserves that shit.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t always tell that, could I?” Jamie bites back. His shoulders rise defensively. “You know what they say: the pot doesn’t fall far from the kettle.”
Jamie flops back in the grass, arms folded petulantly across his chest like he’s won the argument. The neon orange bottle lays empty at his feet, and Roy’s plain black one sits next to it like a menacing shadow.
Roy inhales sharply between his teeth. He’s trying not to be the shadow.
“That’s not what they say.”
“I’m pretty sure it is. You know, how once a table’s been flipped over, they can tell where it was standing before because everything sort of falls in the same direction?”
“That’s not–,” Roy cuts himself short. He takes in Jamie, the way he’s splayed out like a frog ready for autopsy: pinned open and vulnerable to poking. He is, Roy’s beginning to realise, eerily good at pretending his trauma isn’t on display, and even better at getting Roy to fall for the act.
Like there's a chance Roy might go home and forget he ever said anything.
Roy shakes his head. “Actually that makes some sense.”
“See? Told ya.”
“But it’s just a metaphor. That doesn’t make it true,” he adds forcefully. “If anything, your dad isn’t the kettle in that situation; he’s the man flipping the table.”
Jamie blinks up at the sky. His eyes shine. “Yeah. Maybe.”
After a brief moment’s hesitation, Roy lies down next to him. He’ll regret it when he tries to stand up again, but for now that doesn't matter.
The sky is stupidly blue. A brisk wind slides in from the north. Families and old ladies and loud teenages and sloppy, happy dogs circulate around the park, lives continuing on their merry way with no concern for the two resting figures in the grass.
“Do you ever wish you were a frog?” asks Jamie, already moving on, lacing up his boots, and preparing to leave the moment in the wind.
Roy lets him. It’s the least he can do. That, and brace himself for the day it all catches up. Roy doesn’t need to win the race; he just needs to be waiting at the finish line.
Until then, it’s a normal fucking day.
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