#sorry local Los Angeles things

[petrovna-zamo]

Get fucked

[buckyalpine]

always you’s angst only ending … feed us a tiny lil drabble of maybe bucky not stopping until he and bruce and maybe even shuri (cause bby’s the smartest) find a way to bring her back?

like he enters the portal, scoops up her body, and kisses her back to life. then throws her over his shoulder, locks her in his bedroom, and makes love to her for like a week straight.

“she’s barely been back for a month- AND SHE’S ALREADY PREGNANT?!”

- ur local angst slut who’s actually hella sensitive and cannot handle this shit, gossip girl 💋

Always you angst alternative ending 

18+

Okay YES, if your a pure angst fiend, you may ignore this but I'm here to mend hearts from the sadness that was this fic.

Warnings: Angst, FLUFFFFFFF, Smuuuttttt, happy ending 

5 years later

Bucky refused to accept you being gone. He tried to heal, going to therapy, grief counselling, medication, writing letters, everything under the fucking sun to help him come to terms with the fact that he’d never see you again. 

It was impossible.

It ate him alive.

He was physically stronger, pouring all his time into the gym to find a way to numb the pain but he was more mentally fucked than ever.

It had been 5 years, nearly 6 and the raw pain he felt was still fresh. Every night, he'd wake up searching for you. He couldn't let go, holding onto the pieces you had left behind. He wrote to you as often as he could, keeping a locked diary of things he wanted to tell you, letters he knew no one would see but what else could he do when he wanted to talk to you so badly but you weren’t there. 

That didn’t stop him from finding a way to pour his heart and soul somewhere. 

_________________________________

Happy Birthday babygirl,  I wish I could wake you up with kisses today, tell you how special the world is with you in it, make you pancakes, feed you in bed because I know you’ll cuddle up in the sheets until noon. Buy you a pretty dress, take you out, maybe even go dancing, even if its just me and you and Steve’s playlist of songs from the 40′s. I’d hold you close to me all night until your feet were sore or until Tony told us to turn the cheesy music off. 

I know he secretly ships us (Peter taught me that word) 

If it were up to Stark, he’d throw you the biggest birthday party ever; that wouldn’t stop me from trying to sneak you away for some more birthday kisses. birthday cuddles. Birthday sex...is a new song Sam introduced me to. 

I wanted to do so much with you today sweet girl. Show you how much I love you on your special day. I should have shown you before it was too late. I regret it every single day. I’d give anything for just another day, just so you’d know. 

It was always you. 

Steve brought you some flowers today, Sam brought some balloons. I hope you see them from wherever you are. It’s not the same without you here angel.

We miss you baby. 

I miss you. 

Till we meet again,  JBB 

_________________________________

Hi Baby, I know it’s not a special occasion, I have no real reason to write today. I missed you though. I wanted to tell you about how I jumped out of a plane today and all I could think of is how much you would have laughed because I didn’t use a parachute. You’re laugh is the sweetest sound in the world and I’d give anything to hear it just one more time.

Sam recorded it all, you would have been the first person he showed the footage to. I’d probably ignore you both and then you’d probably tease me about being grumpy and I’d want a kiss to feel better. And a hug. Maybe some cuddles. Please? 

Also you’d be proud of me today, Red Wing broke and it wasn’t my fault. Promise. I even apologized to Sam after but he doesn’t think I’m being sincere. And I’m not because red wing is a little shit. So is Sam. 

I miss you sweets. I wish you were here. It hurts. Everything hurts. 

I hope we meet again. I’ll never let you go. 

Yours, JBB

_________________________________

My y/n,

I’m sorry. I should have told you. I regret it everyday. I’ll never stop trying to find a way to get you back. 

I love you,

JBB

_________________________________

It’s been almost 6 years. It still hurts.

Till we meet again, JBB

_________________________________

I can’t anymore. I need you back. 

JBB

_________________________________

There were some days where Bucky was able to focus, writing as much as he could, spilling all of his feelings onto the paper, a tiny part of him hoping that one day he’d be able to give you all his letters so you’d know you were all he could think of. 

Then there were the days where sobs tore through his body, his breathing labored, only managing to scribble three words before crumbling into a dark abyss. Bucky wracked his brain every single day; if you were able to go back once, there had to be a way to get you back again. Bruce and Tony had spent countless hours in the lab trying to find a way to reopen the portal but nothing led to you. 

*****

Bucky stared at his burner, pressing call and ending it before it could go through multiple times before finally letting it ring. There was only one other person he could turn to. He knew he wasn’t going to be immediately welcomed back into Wakanda but this wasn’t just about him. Everyone wanted you back. Nothing was the same without you there. If there was a 1% chance to get you back, he had to try. His chest felt tight as the jet landed in a secluded area having arranged a private meeting with Shuri, the one person he trusted with his life. 

"I-I have a favor to ask" Bucky's eyes were already pleading with her, his heart racing as he approached her, ready to fall on his knees. 

"Anything Sergeant Barnes" Shuri smiled, sensing he was there for something urgent, nodding for him to continue. There was zero hesitation as she immediately agreed to come back with him to try and get you back, bringing her own lab equipment with her so she could work with Bruce. After filtering through a number of timelines and timestamps, she’d managed to pinpoint the portal to find you but it wasn’t without its consequences. 

“You understand you may not return” Shuri whispered as Bucky threw on his tactical gear, insisting on getting you all on his own while rest of the team watched in pin drop silence, reluctantly letting him go alone “And y/n...we can get her back but there's a chance she may not...” 

She squeezed his hand before he stepped onto the platform, not wanting to finish the sentence but he already understood. He knew it was possible he’d find you again but it didn’t mean he’d find you alive. 

“Then at least I get to say goodbye” He gave her a strained smile; he had to bring you home one way or another. If this was how he had to go, he would run happily to his death; he’d be at peace knowing he died trying to find you. With the push of a button, he was instantly thrown into a warp, transported to where you had last been with Nat. Everything came to a halt as he found himself at an abandoned hydra base, the cold nipping his skin. Bucky blinked, his vision focusing on the fuzzy figure laying on the ground, his feet moving before he could process anything. 

There was no one else around. 

It was you. 

His doll. 

His y/n.

He sprinted to you, tears clouding his vision as he approached you, dropping to his knees, both fear and hope fighting for dominance. He found you. You were there. But would he ever actually get you back? Were you even breathing? 

“Y/n?” Bucky cradled you to him, scooping you in his arms and chasing the portal that had already began to close. He held your face to his neck, his metal hand protecting your head, holding you securely against his body as you both fleshed back to the present. 

The team gasped as he appeared on the platform again with you safely tucked in his arms. They didn’t dare move, everyone holding their breaths while Bucky laid you down with you still in his arms, his hand softly stroking your cheek. 

“Y/n? Doll?” His heart was beating erratically, your skin was warm, a glimmer of hope burning stronger as he gently shook you, pressing his cool metal hand against your face. “Please” 

“C’mon doll, come back to me baby, I have so much I need to tell you” He pleaded, his warm breath fanning against your face, tears brimming his eyes. Tony and Steve itched to whisk you off to the medbay while Sam silently shook his head, wanting to give Bucky an extra minute, hoping you’d be able to wake up in the super soldiers arms where you belonged. 

“Baby, wake up sweets” Bucky couldn't help himself, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, trailing feather light kisses down your face while cuddling you. “C’mon I l-love you” His voice cracked, his lips finally pressing against yours. They were still soft, warm, you had to wake up, you had to-

Your lips stirred, your eyes cracking open, taking your first breath as your eyes focused on Bucky. 

“Sweetheart?” Bucky's eyes grew wide, unsure if he was dreaming or not, scrambling to hug you closer, cupping your face gently.  

“Bucky?” Your voice was a raspy whisper, leaning into his touch, feeling his tears fall onto your skin as he pulled you into his chest. 

“My doll” He let out a soft sob, cradling your head as you buried your face into his neck, moved to cling onto him, the last thing you remembered was darkness and now you were in his arms again surrounded by his warmth, his scent. Everyone stayed rooted in place, tears falling freely, dying to grab you, hug you, hold you again but they were not about to separate the two of you, not after how badly Bucky had yearned to get you back. 

“Bucky” You wept, your mind still piecing together how you were back but it didn’t matter, not when he was holding you again. 

“Hi baby” He whispered against your hair, wiping your tears with his thumb, cupping your face, kissing you all over before capturing your lips again, relishing in your touch, feeling your fingers card through his short locks. You lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world no longer existing. 

“Okay white wolf, When do we get to say hi to our girl” Sam snorted, sniffling seeing you tucked in Bucky’s arms, the brunettes lips curved into a smile for the first time since you’d been gone. Bucky loosened his hold around you, helping you to your feet, giving you one more kiss before letting go. 

“Come here” Steve scooped you up immediately after, struggling not to squeeze you tight, “We missed you sweet heart, so much”

“Hasn’t been the same without you” Sam gave you a once over, determining you were well enough for a slightly bone crushing hug before having you grabbed away by Tony. Tony wasn’t able to say much, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling, hugging you the longest, reluctant to let you go. You were engulfed in Nat’s arms as she wept, squeezing you like her life depended on it. 

“You saved me” She whispered in your hair, her tears falling onto your skin, “Don’t ever do that again” She hissed sternly, grabbing your face to look at her, “Don’t ever ever do something like that again” 

“Give me my baby back” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder as soon as everyone had gotten their hugs and kisses, not interested in giving anyone a second longer when he needed you so badly. You squealed, giggling as he carried you straight down the hall towards his room without glancing back. As soon as he locked the door, his hands were all over you, holding you tightly to him. 

“Your baby?” You shyly whispered as he rested his forehead against yours, nodding and chasing your lips. 

“M’never letting you go again doll, never” He trailed kisses down your neck while unbuckling the straps of your gear letting it drop to the floor. “I want to love you, I want to hold you, I want to make love to you, I want it all with you” 

Bucky tore your clothes off, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bathroom, turning the hot water on, hot water pouring over both if you. The steam made you woozy, your body turning into jelly under his touch as he massaged your muscles with delicate touches, his lips ghosting over every bruise and scar that had marked your skin. You let out a needy whimper, staying close to him, your butterflies erupting in your tummy every time he touched you. 

“Bucky please”

“I want to love you so badly baby, love you the way you deserve” Bucky willed himself not to take you right there, focused on rinsing off and grabbing a towel, carrying you over to his bed. He tossed to towel off, climbing on top of you, neither of you having the patience for a slow build or teasing. Your belly clenched feeling his hard length rut and rub against your bare cunt, your slick coating his cock. 

“I need you” He rasped while you whined, wrapping your legs around him, bucking your hips up. “You have no idea baby, God I need you” His eyes were pleading with you, his cock starting to leak feeling your arousal. 

“Wanna feel you Bucky” You spread your legs for him, your breath hitching feeling the tip of his cock rub through your folds before pressing into your entrance. 

“Gonna make love to you so good sweet girl” Bucky whispered as he started to push his cock in, his heart beating faster, cock growing harder feeling your heat pull him in deeper. He groaned, letting his body weight fall onto you as he started to thrust, pleasure consuming both of you immediately. 

“JAmessss” Your gasp melted into a moan, your head pressed against his pillow as he filled you, stretching you open, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. “Stretching me to so good Buckyyy” 

“Yeah? You feel so good wrapped around me baby” He rasped, his orgasm already creeping down his spine as he pressed sloppy kisses all over your face, overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of you under him. Your moans made him twitch, nearly growling when he felt your nails dig into his skin as he kissed your cervix with each roll of his hips. 

“I missed you so much baby, didn’t know what to do with myself, I-I couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t live-” Bucky could feel tears brimming his eyes, struggling to keep them away, “Fuck I missed you so much, I felt like I was drowning every single day” 

You sniffled over his words, your heart connected with his, squeezing your thighs around his waist, desperate to keep every inch of his body pressed with yours. 

“It-it was always you” He kissed your forehead, as he kept you caged under him, moaning against your skin.

“I love you” you cupped his cheeks, brushing his tears away, his nose lightly bumping against yours. You pulled him down for a sweet kiss, only pulling away for air. All of it was so much all at once, the quietest cries and softest kisses, feeling every inch of each other, making up for lost time. Bucky pulled the covers over you both, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth, hiding you from the rest of the world, savoring this moment with just the two of you, his sweet girl back in his arms again. 

He let his arms roam across your body, stroking your waist, your thighs, gently cupping your breasts, softly suckling your nipples, his body trembling as he tried to hold his climax off and make this moment last forever. 

“M’gonna marry you, you know that?” His hands came to lace with yours, pinning you against the bed, eyes locked with yours. His pace didn’t falter, thrusting into you, loving the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, rolling his hips so he could push into you deeper. “W-will you? Will you marry me babygirl” 

He knew you had just come back but he wanted nothing more, unable to stop the words from slipping out. You let your own tears fall down your cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. 

“Yes” You whimpered, sniffling back sobs as he stroked your head, smiling against your lips. 

“Gonna make you my wife baby, marry you and take care of you until my last breath” He started to fuck you faster, panting, the muscles in his body tensing. 

“Tell me more Bucky, please?” You whined, your heart aching for more, everything you’d always wanted with the one person you’d always been in love with. 

“Oh baby, M’gonna get you pregnant sweet girl, have a family with you, everything with you, take care of your swollen belly, make love to you even when you’re full of me, show you how much I adore you princess” You gasped as he braced himself, his grunts growing louder, his body heat radiating off him, unable to stop the pleasure that was growing. 

“Tell me your mine baby” He whined, wrapping his arms around you while you threw your head back, your eyes rolling back at the feel of his pubic bone rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with each thrust. 

“I’m yours Bucky” 

“Fuck don’t stop y/n, please, I need it” His voice was needy, desperately clinging onto your body, craving to hear nothing else. “Say it again doll”

“I’m yours Bucky, all yours soldier” You moaned louder, your legs shaking around him “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum with me baby, same time, please” 

“BuckyBuckyBucky- You cried our, your walls staring to flutter, ready to fall off the edge with hi. 

“M’right here, I got you, togther, c’mon, cum with me princess” Bucky rolled his hips, pounding you into the mattress, biting down onto your neck as he felt your nails scratch down his back while white hot pleasure tore through you, your pussy milking his cock. 

“FUCK JAMES” Your body trembled as he fucked you through your high, burying his face into your neck, his lips brushing by your ear. 

“YES, Yes baby, my good girl, my sweet girl, s’perfect for me, yes, I’m gonna give you my cum, get you pregnant, have a baby with you, take care of you, love you, all of it with you baby, fuck- I LOVE YOU- UGGHHH- 

Bucky collapse on you, filling you with his cum until the bed was damp, his body jolting from sensitivity each time you fluttered around him while kissing his temple. He hardly moved, a steady stream of cum still pouring into you, staying connected to you the entire night, cuddling you next to him. 

“I finally have my baby back, my sweet sweet baby, she’s back” 

It has been nearly a week since you were back but you hadn’t left Bucky’s room once. You only took a few moments to eat and sleep, the rest of the time wrapped up in each other, connected in the most intimate way possible, while whispering sweet nothings, 

It was everything Bucky needed. Emotional. Warm. Soft. Loving. 

He couldn’t help the tears every time he was inside you, he finally had you back, wrapping his arms around you every time you made love, making sure you knew exactly how much he had always adored you. As much as he wanted to take you apart in every way imaginable, he couldn’t help but slip into missionary every single time, wanting to see your pretty face, feel your body, have your legs wrap around him as he came inside you. 

*****

You threw on your coat while Bucky slipped his arm around your waist while you both made your way down, passing through the living room on our way out. 

“Damn future Mrs. Barnes” Sam whistled, along with the rest of the team, everyone gathered for a night for a movie. “Where you off to?” 

“The three of us are going out for dinner” Bucky smiled with a child like grin, snickering to himself while the team looked at you with confusion. 

“Three?” Steve cocked his head, noting the way you shied into Bucky’s chest, giggling while he kissed your head, his hand slipping down to brush over your belly. “THREE?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide as he shot out of his seat, pointing at your tummy. “THREE” He whipped his head to Tony, Nat, Sam and Clint who slowly connected the dots. “THREE” 

“For fucks sake, it hasn’t even been a month Barnes” Tony snorted, while everyone pilled onto you both, a large mess of hugs and tears. 

“You didn’t waste any time, huh” Sam wiggling his eyebrows while Bucky wrapped his arms around you, his hands splayed on your tummy. 

“Never again” He whispered, tilting your chin to kiss you deeply, “Never ever again” 

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[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.

Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping

It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.

LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.

“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“

“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”

A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “

“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”

LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”

He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.

It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”

A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”

There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.

He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.

It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.

Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.

“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”

Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”

“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”

- C”

“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.

“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”

“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”

And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”

“Get this brainless lump off of me!”

“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.

“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”

“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”

The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.

LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.

“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.

It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…

But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”

If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.

Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.

LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.

“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.

Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”

And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.

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[freelancearsonist]

all that we see or seem

➔ Dieter Bravo x AFAB!Reader

➔ 5.7k words

➔ You moved to Hollywood in hopes of chasing your dreams; you get a lot more than you bargained for from your new boss, Dieter Bravo.

➔ Rated MA // dark fic, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used) and generally able-bodied, age gap (unspecified, reader is younger than dieter), vampire!dieter, blood/both consensual and non-consensual blood drinking, knife use, slight self-harm, gore of the mouth variety, pet names, takes place in 1983 bc i’m a sucker for changing settings

➔ this was requested from this prompt list by the very lovely @sp00kymulderr!! happy birthday darling, sorry this took so long but i hope it's worth the wait <3 thank you so much to @missredherring for this AMAZING header graphic ily 🖤

Los Angeles is a far cry from the little town you grew up in. It’s a seemingly endless maze, with more possibilities than you ever could’ve dreamed. It’s a little daunting, really. You step off your plane with your suitcase in hand, and you feel like the world is in the palms of your hands.

The harsh reality comes crashing in without warning.

LA is expensive, especially on your own. As the money you’d saved up to get you started dwindles much quicker than expected, your dreams only get further and further out of reach. Life always finds a way to fuck you over, and the city of angels does it quicker than anywhere else. The glitzy neon nightclubs and the glamor of Hollywood swiftly become an omen of doom rather than a beacon of hope. You’re in over your head, but it’s too late to back out now.

Auditions get put on the backburner. You work yourself to the bone as a server in a dumpy little diner, but it’s still barely enough to cover your basic expenses.

You wake up, you go to work, you come home, you go to sleep. The cycle repeats itself so quickly that your days all merge together into one, long, neverending nightmare.

The light at the end of the tunnel appears shortly before the first anniversary of your move. You’re scanning through the paper during your meal break when you see a help wanted ad. It’s normally the type of thing you would ignore, but a few things about it draw you in. The part that really catches your eye is the large, bold letters that proclaim “work closely with one of the biggest names in hollywood!” It seems too good to be true, and certainly something you’re not qualified for. But it could be a start–a way to get your foot through the door of the industry that brought you out here in the first place. Really, what’s the harm in trying?

You go to the library, type up your resume, and mail it in to the address listed in the ad. Realistically, you know that there must be hundreds of other applicants and you probably won’t get so much as a rejection letter back; but the needling little ‘what if’ in the back of your mind gives you a boost of hope that you’ve lived without for an achingly long time.

You get better than a letter–a broad, handsome man shows up at the diner late one night asking for you three days after you drop your resume into the local mail slot at the post office. Janine, the shaggy-haired waitress you work with almost every shift and have sort of become friends with, nudges you excitedly while you’re handing a ticket back to the kitchen.

“Honey, do you know who that is?” She nods her head over her shoulder towards a table in the corner of her section and you try to look over as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course you know who that is. His face is everywhere in this stupid town–magazine covers, billboards, movie theaters. Even with sunglasses obscuring the dark brown eyes that have made thousands swoon, you recognize Dieter Bravo. He’s bigger than Hasselhoff and Swayze combined.

“He’s asking for you,” Janine whispers. “By name. You know him?”

“Not yet,” you answer truthfully. You know without a doubt that he’s here because of your resume and that your entire world is about to change.

You’ve seen him on the big screen before and now you can definitively say that it doesn’t do him justice. He’s more handsome than any man has a right to be. He’s wearing a black hoodie and black trousers, an ensemble that stands out in the brightness of 1983 but yet perfectly complements the tanned tone of his skin. His shoulders could fill a doorway and his smile might actually melt you into a puddle. You can’t help but notice–with a hint of trepidation–that his canines are the sharpest you’ve ever seen, although that thought is quickly pushed from your mind when he greets you by name.

“Your resume is impressive.”

“No it’s not,” you respond with a little laugh before you can stop yourself, then you have to refrain from banging your head into the wall. What a great start to an interview.

But he laughs, and you can’t help feeling you’ve done something right. You’d do a hell of a lot worse just to hear that gorgeously deep, hearty chuckle again.

“Okay, I’ll rephrase. You said all the right things. You’ve got exactly what I’m looking for as an assistant.”

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, because this is much too good to be true.

“You’re not from LA,” he states factually. “What brought you here?”

You consider lying–coming up with some story that’s less pathetic than the truth. He’s appreciated your honesty thus far, though, and you don’t want to break a streak. “I wanted to act, but… it’s hard to get started when you don’t have any connections. So I’ve just been kind of… getting by.”

He nods and gives you a look over–assessing, you think. “We all have to start somewhere. But this isn’t an easy job.”

There’s something unreadable in his voice, but you choose to ignore it because you want nothing more than a chance to impress him. It’s not about ‘making it’ anymore; it’s about proving to Dieter Bravo that you’re worth taking a chance on.

“Neither is this,” you reply with a vague wave at the diner around you. “If I’m not covered in fryer grease at the end of the day, it’s a good job to me.”

He chuckles again and it washes over you like fresh water after years of drought. You want more of him–more of his charm, more of his warmth.

“When can you start?”

You ask for two weeks to leave your diner gig on good terms, and he’s gracious enough to accommodate you. As the days tick past, the anticipation ramps up and time seems to move slower. You’ve never been so excited for a new job. Normally, your gut twists with anticipation and your mind swirls with every little minute detail that could go wrong–but not now. No, now you’re just excited. The possibilities of Hollywood finally seem to be within your reach again, and it all starts with this job.

You learn a lot about Dieter within five minutes of starting on your first day. For one, he’s incredibly personable. He greets you himself and vows to show you the ropes. There’s no third party to teach you everything you need to know, it’s just him. Just the two of you. You appreciate that immensely, because you’ll be serving him directly as his assistant. There’s no better person to learn from when it comes to his desires and routines than the man himself.

Two, he wears many different masks. It’s a little spooky, the way his demeanor changes depending on who he’s dealing with. He can be the sweetest, most charming man you’ve ever spoken to, then turn to a producer and be a complete hardass all in the name of getting things done. He knows exactly what persona he needs to wear for each person he interacts with–it’s all very calculated. You suppose all actors have to be capable of that; the mark of a good thespian is being instantly able to pretend you’re someone you’re not.

Still, it’s a little chilling. If you didn’t see it in some form or another with every person you meet on set, you’d be a little concerned. Dieter just makes it look like adaptation–fitting into his surroundings as a means of staying afloat. He’s been in this industry for a long time, he knows what works; and, subsequently, what doesn’t.

As far as the job goes, it’s a nice change of pace from what you’ve become accustomed to. You spend nights on set with him, fetching his coffee order or running little errands while he’s busy shooting. The hours aren’t unreasonable, and it pays double what the diner did. Now that you’re not struggling to get by financially, you have the free time you need to start pursuing your dreams again.

You have only Dieter to answer to, which is a definite learning curve. Directors, producers, and even other actors chase after your favors, but Dieter tells them unequivocally to fuck off. You’re his–it’s a heady feeling each time he  reasserts it. It makes for easy work when you’re not being pulled in thirty different directions simultaneously. He asks for what he needs when he’s around and he gives you a list of tasks to complete when he’s not. He’s a little eccentric–he tells you he can only work after dark because his eyes are sensitive–but it’s nice, falling into a routine after so long of working unconventional hours at a job where no two days are the same.

Still, as days turn into weeks by his side, you wonder exactly what version of Dieter he’s presenting to you. Which face is the most authentic? You want to believe he’s himself with you, but you’re not quite naive enough to convince yourself of that. The thing that bothers you the most is that you want him to feel comfortable enough to drop the facades around you. You want to get to know the real Dieter Bravo, underneath all the masks. But you also swore to yourself, when you accepted this job, that you would be nothing but professional–and wanting to get to know him so intimately is definitely a step beyond just being his employee.

To his credit, he’s strictly professional–even if you wish he wasn’t at times. There’s a lot of rumors and gossip about him, about his hedonism and the life he supposedly leads at night, but you don’t see that facet of him. With you, he’s friendly, kind, and respectful. He’s the perfect gentleman–and that’s how you know that you’re not getting a full glimpse of the real him. There’s too much contradiction between the rumors and the Dieter that you interact with. 

No matter how straight-laced you try to be, you can’t help wondering what it’ll take to get a look at the real Dieter Bravo.

You think he starts to peek through when Dieter asks if you would be willing to work longer hours and be more of a personal assistant than a production assistant. You know him inside and out, he tells you, and it would be a pain in the ass to teach a whole new person how to deal with his errands. He even offers you a sizable raise when you pretend to be contemplating it, like you weren’t bursting at the seams to say yes before he even finished asking. 

The sad–maybe even pathetic–truth of the matter is that you’re falling for him. Every facet of his charm, from his darkly passionate eyes to his easy humor, have you completely bewitched and ready to ignore the way your hair stands on end each time his gaze meets yours. You’ll take any small fraction of him that you can get.

He eases you into your additional duties, at least; that much can be said in his favor. He starts you out with small tasks, like ordering his groceries and picking up his dry cleaning. Dieter’s so kind and patient as he explains how he likes everything done–he’s particular, but not unreasonable. He even gives you a grand tour of his home so you can see exactly where and how he likes everything done–it’s like finally getting that real glimpse of him that you’ve been hoping for.

His Sherman Oaks mansion looks like something straight out of a Bram Stoker novel on the outside, yet the inside is a testament to the warm side of his personality that you’re more familiar with. It’s decorated in shades of orange and red, with patterns that are a little out of date but still manage to feel intentional. It gives the impression of someone who was more comfortable and sure of himself in the 70’s, or at least someone who hasn’t quite adjusted to the new trends that came with the turn of the decade. The walls are covered with art–most of it signed with his familiar “DB” in the bottom right hand corner. It’s neat, but not so neat that it feels staged. It fits the Dieter Bravo that you know perfectly, and it even starts to feel like home to you when you start spending more time there with him.

There’s never anyone else around when you’re there. For someone who has a reputation for throwing the liveliest parties in all of Hollywood, he doesn’t actually do a lot of partying. Not when you’re around, at least. It’s almost like he’s trying to hide that aspect of himself from you. If he has to host, he sends you home early or lets you know in advance that you’re getting a paid night off. You’re almost disappointed–parties have never really been your thing, sure, but you feel like you need to experience at least one of his.

Plus, people are starting to talk. You hear it on set first; his co-stars whispering about how he’s gone soft, how he’s gotten boring. Even the tabloids are starting to wonder if they’ve seen the last infamous Dieter Bravo party, which were once highly coveted and exclusive events. The few times he’s hosted lately have been small, quiet affairs–definitely not the big, star-studded shebangs that he’s gained a reputation for.

A rumor even starts circulating that he’s finally decided to settle down with a nice girl, which makes your stomach twist with a little green monster that shouldn’t be there. He’s your employer, you reason. That’s all. No matter how friendly he is, no matter how much he flirts with you, no matter how much he compliments your perfect cup of coffee, that’s all he is. Your boss. And yet, despite your constant self-assertion, your brain just can’t seem to accept it. You know you shouldn’t want anything more than that, and yet you just can’t seem to stop yourself from hoping.

“What’s going on with you?”

You’re in the midst of trying to sort through the files in his upstairs home office so you can find out when his insurance needs to be renewed when you hear the voice, loud and clear due to the open floor plan downstairs. Sound travels like crazy up the double-wide staircase with Dieter’s office door right at the top. You couldn’t shut it out even if you wanted to–and you don’t. God help you, you’re a little nosy and a little curious.

“Nothing.” That’s Dieter’s voice, but you don’t recognize the other.

“Bullshit. You’re not yourself.” It’s a deep, rich tone that you’ve never heard before and it immediately has your interest hooked. Dieter doesn’t get many visitors, much less such purposeful ones. Most people like to schmooze him, but evidently not this unidentified man.

“I’m trying to be different,” Dieter explains half-heartedly. “It’s time I cleaned up a bit.”

“No. Cleaning up your act is nothing more than a good way to get yourself caught. Things happen in the party climate, that’s how you fit in. Things don’t just happen to nice rich actors.”

Caught? Caught doing what, exactly? You creep closer to the open door on light feet, curiosity peaked.

Dieter sighs, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’m tired.”

“So what are you going to do? Just give up? Waste away after… how long?”

“Maybe I should,” Dieter retorts–there’s grit in his tone now, maybe even bitterness. “Maybe I never should’ve taken the deal in the first place. You don’t see how fucked up this all is?”

“So, what? You’ve gotten everything you could’ve possibly wanted, and now you’re tired of playing the game? Pathetic.” There’s a sneer in the tone of this unidentified speaker and you don’t like it. You want to jump to Dieter’s defense, but something tells you this is a conversation that you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on.

“Whatever, man,” Dieter scoffs dismissively.

There’s noise downstairs now–a slight thud and what sounds like Dieter grunting as if the wind has been knocked out of him. 

“What changed?”

“Fuck off,” Dieter spits.

“What. Changed?”

“You weren’t fucking honest with me.”

“Bullshit,” the stranger growls back. “You knew exactly what you were getting into.”

“No, you said everything I wanted, that was the deal. Remember?” It’s quiet for a long moment, and you wonder if Dieter’s pacing. He does that, when he starts to get stressed. “I’m still alone, though.”

“That’s your own fault,” the stranger replies–voice a little softer now. “I didn’t say I would hand you your dreams on a silver platter. You make your own destiny. Surely it hasn’t been so long that you’ve forgotten that little qualifier.”

“I can’t bring someone else into this shit and you know it,” Dieter replies. The venom is gone from his voice now–he just sounds done. Exhausted and spent.

“You can, but you won’t.” There’s a moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Start acting like yourself again before you raise too much suspicion.”

“Fine,” Dieter sighs heavily. 

There’s a few long moments of silence, and then you hear the heavy solid oak front door shut. Presumably the guest has gone, and while you’re eager to sneak down and see if you can catch a glimpse of who it might’ve been, it’s far too risky with Dieter down there. Something tells you that he should never find out about the way you just eavesdropped on that conversation. You don’t know who he was talking to, or what kind of deal they were discussing–you just know that it’s serious, and definitely above your paygrade.

“Did you find that paperwork?”

You didn’t hear Dieter come upstairs–his sudden question from right behind you makes you jump and whirl around to look at him. You fight to keep your calm as you catch your breath; the last thing you want to do is clue him in that you overheard his conversation with his unknown guest.

“Yeah, I’ve got it right here,” you answer after a thick gulp.

“You’re a doll,” he proclaims with a wide smile. How easily he picks up the face he wears with you after a conversation that clearly upset him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you hum with a smile. “This entire room is a nightmare. It’s a miracle you ever find anything. You need to get, like… some filing cabinets. At the very least.”

“I’ll, uhh… get right on that,” he says in a way that makes you sure he definitely won’t get right on it.

Despite the nerves still thrumming through your veins, you laugh. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re a doll,” he repeats with his trademark grin. “Oh! Hey, uhh… you have tomorrow off. Paid, obviously.”

“Why?” You ask before you can think better of it. 

He seems surprised–you don’t normally ask questions, especially about paid vacation days. “Work stuff I gotta take care of. No big deal.”

“Okay,” you answer with a slight frown. “Sure I can’t help?”

He actually does seem to be contemplating it for a moment–his eyes scan over your body, and it’s like he’s considering you more than the actual offer. “No, honey, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” You take a short breath, then head towards the door–this was the last task on your list for the night. “Anything else you need before I head out?”

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he follows you down the stairs. “No. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You feel heat fluttering underneath your skin at the pet name–he uses them often and they never fail to make your heart pick up pace. It’s like he can tell, because his eyes linger on your lips for a moment before trailing down to the pulse point on the left side of your neck. You wonder for a second if he can actually see it beating, but you quickly push that ridiculous thought away.

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you tomorrow?”

His eyes are still trained on your neck like he’s completely zoned out or something. You watch as his tongue slowly glides over his bottom lip, trance-like; it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yeah,” he whispers after a long moment–he’s standing so close now, you didn’t even notice him closing in. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“Okay.” You want nothing more than to grab him and pull him in, to kiss him like your life depends upon it. He sounded so upset and every bone in your body is screaming to comfort him. The way he’s looking at you right now, you don’t think he’d mind at all. 

Instead you take a deep breath, grab your bag from the bench next to the door, and bid him goodnight.

Dieter doesn’t seem to realize that you’re always working, whether you’re on the clock or not. Even on ‘off’ days, you get loads of calls for scheduling requests and other tasks. Your saving grace is your trusty day planner—it holds both of your schedules, all neatly color-coded for maximum efficiency.

The worst thing you could’ve done on a weekend leading up to awards season is leave it in Dieter’s home office—and yet, as you frantically dig through your tote bag and your desk, that seems to be exactly what you’ve done.

You know Dieter’s got whatever event he’s hosting at home, but you can’t keep taking calls and scribbling notes on napkins without your schedule in front of you. The last thing you want to do is overbook him at a time where every single interview counts.

With a heavy sigh, you dial Dieter’s home number. It rings for what seems like eternity, and just as you’re about to hang up an unfamiliar voice answers.

“Hello?”

With a sigh of relief, you ask, “Hi, is Dieter there?”

“He’s busy.” The voice is high and sweet, yet her tone says she couldn’t be more irritated.

“Okay… umm, it’s kind of important.”

The stranger sighs dramatically. “I can take a message.”

“I just… I left something there, and I need to come get it as soon as possible. But I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

This time when she speaks, her tone is considerably more friendly. “Oh! Yeah, come on over. The more the merrier!”

You can’t help your intrigue, although you really don’t want to intrude without Dieter’s say-so. “Are you sure? I could always come tomorrow, I guess.”

“No no, come! It’s a party, everyone’s welcome!” Then the line goes dead without any further discussion.

You consider redialing in the hopes of speaking and clearing your visit with Dieter, but you doubt you’ll actually get through to him–and really, what harm would a quick visit do? You know exactly where you left it, on the desk in his office. It’ll be five minutes tops, a quick in and out. He might never even know that you’d been there.

You shake off the curious sense of foreboding that overtakes your mind as you grab your keys and lock your apartment door behind you.

It’s a twenty minute ride to Dieter’s house–a lot of time to spend thinking. At the forefront of your mind is that peculiar conversation you overheard last night; you’re not entirely sure why, really. Whoever that man was sounded almost as if he was in some kind of position of power over Dieter, and you don’t have even an educated guess at who that could possibly be. Dieter’s his own boss and he doesn’t take bullying–you’ve never heard someone get away with bossing him around like that before. He’s constantly in some weird form of pissing match with the directors and producers of whatever film he’s working on; he’s never seemed to be good at taking orders, even when he’s supposed to. You’ve heard many a rant about how much he values the ‘freedom of expression’. It all serves to make the mysterious visitor more confusing. Who does Dieter have to answer to?

The cab pulls up in front of his gated home before you’re able to find a plausible answer. You instruct the driver to keep the meter running since you’ll only be a minute before you step out into the crisp late-January air.

The grounds are a lot quieter than you expect them to be as the guard on duty opens the gate and closes it behind you. One thing Dieter’s famous for is noise–his parties are always reported as loud and exciting affairs akin to the fraternities in his favorite movie Animal House. There's no noise at all today, though, and it makes you curious. Is it really a party? Or was the stranger who answered the phone maybe his only guest? If the latter is the case, why would she want you to join in?

There’s a pale man in a cheap-looking suit waiting just inside the door, a tray of filled wine glasses in his gloved hands. “Take one,” he instructs, his eyes distant like he’s looking through you rather than at you.

“Oh, no thank you, I just need to–”

“Take one,” he repeats. “Master’s orders.”

Master? Of course Dieter would be into that. 

The wine is a deep red, probably that expensive vintage shit that he’s always raving about. You prefer the grocery store stuff yourself, not just because it’s all you can afford. A drink never hurts, though, and you could certainly use something to take the edge off–because that tingling sense of foreboding has only gotten stronger since your arrival.

You take a glass and swirl its currant-colored liquid around. It seems more viscous than any wine you’ve had before–probably a mark of its age, but that’s just guesswork on your part. You take a small sip, then nearly gag. It’s like drinking a pile of melted pennies. You swallow it down with a grimace anyway since you don’t want to make a scene of spitting it out in front of the server. It leaves a metallic taste in your mouth that you’re eager to wash out–thankfully, the kitchen is on your route to the stairs. You quickly deposit the glass on a table once you’re out of the server’s eyesight, then head down the hall in a desperate search for water.

Once you’re out of the foyer, there are people everywhere. Very subdued people, at that–draped over furniture like throw blankets, some even laying on the floor. You consider checking one’s pulse until he twitches and lets out a muffled groan. Clearly high on something, you’re just not sure what. You nearly trip over one person and they actually hiss at you like some kind of feral cat. Your skin starts to crawl with every step you take. Even more important than your discomfort, though, is finding Dieter. What if he’s like this, too? Do you need to call someone?

You notice a dull ache starting in your gums as you make it to the kitchen–thankfully you’re familiar with his home, and you have a glass of water in your hands within no time. It seems that no matter how much you drink, though, that coppery-bloody taste never leaves your mouth. What the hell was that stuff?

There’s a short-haired blonde woman propped up against the wall underneath the mounted phone; she reaches out a lazy hand in some sort of greeting. She looks vaguely familiar, like someone you might’ve seen on the set of one of Dieter’s films.

“You made it!” She says with a lazy smile. She must be the woman you spoke to earlier, although you’re not sure how she can identify you.

“Yeah. Where’s Dieter?” The longer you’re here, the more worried you become. Something isn’t right, and your skin is prickling with apprehension.

“Upstairs,” she murmurs, then her eyes flutter shut and she slumps a little further down. She’s visibly breathing, at least. 

For a moment, you consider picking up the phone and ringing the police. Would that cause more harm than good? Dieter must be aware of what’s going on here–you know you should talk to him before you do anything.

Your mission to find your planner momentarily forgotten, you make your way through the living room towards the stairs.

You check the office at the top first–there’s a few bodies zonked out on the couch, but none of them are Dieter. With trepidation in your very soul, you make your way down the hall. Each room is more of the same–people in varying states of unrest, no sign of the man you’re looking for. Most of them have red-stained lips and you eye more than one smashed glass along your journey. Your own mouth is starting to get alarmingly sore, but you ignore it in favor of finding Dieter.

Each step you take drives your worries deeper into your skull. What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s knocked out like all of his guests, or hurt, or something worse?

This is the first time you’ve breached the bubble of his bedroom. None of your work has ever involved this room, and while you’re a naturally nosey type of person, there’s something deeply personal and sacred about the space someone sleeps in. 

Ignoring the steady throbbing in your gums, you knock once before pushing open the door.

Dieter’s alone in his room, sprawled out like a starfish in a sea of rumpled sheets at the center of his massive bed. Something akin to a groan of horror escapes your throat as you see the state he’s in. He’s paler than a corpse and drenched in sweat, chest barely rising and falling with breath.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place. Your entire body breaks out in a cold sweat as you notice the knife in his right hand and the deep gash in the crook of his left arm, right where an IV would normally be set. You can smell the blood draining from him, you can even taste it in the air–or maybe that’s just the lingering taste of whatever you drank downstairs.

Your stomach churns violently with the sudden realization of what you’ve done, of what you’ve drank.

“Dieter!” You manage to choke out while your brain tries to remember how to send the signals required for your body to fucking move. 

He lifts his head shakily, brown eyes widening after a long moment of trying to recognize the face he’s looking at. “No no no,” he whispers hoarsely, “you’re not supposed t-to be here. You’re.. y-you’re supposed to be a-at home.”

A sharp, shattering pain in your top gum snaps your brain back into action. In a flash you’re crawling across a seemingly endless desert of mattress and it feels like you’ll never reach him. Everything is moving so slowly–each movement seems to take a hundred times the effort it should.

You spit out a mouthful of blood as the pain heightens, barely registering the two upper canines that go with it.

“What the fuck have you done?” You sob, uselessly pawing at his slashed left arm. It’s a precise cut straight across the artery–your hands are sticky and soaked with red the moment you touch him. Pressure, your brain screams at you. Put pressure on the wound.

“A real artist must suffer,” he mumbles weakly–then, even quieter, “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re dying.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own anymore. It’s higher, breathier. 

“You drank it, d-didn’t you?” He asks, ignoring your statement. His distant eyes are trained on the sharp fangs that have pushed your canines out. “Fuck. Fuck! You were n-never supposed to…”

“Shut up, shut up,” you plead. Every shaky breath seems to cost him years. “How do I fix this? How do I fix you?”

“Thirsty,” he mumbles. There’s water on the sideboard, your brain reminds you. You don’t even remember bringing the glass with you, much less setting it down. Everything is so fuzzy. Your arm doesn’t move nearly as fast as it should when you reach for the glass, and Dieter’s hand weakly comes up to stop you.

“Not water,” he croaks. “Need… need…”

He can’t seem to form the words required to tell you what he needs. He doesn’t have to, though. You know.

“You’re not dying on me, Bravo.” You take the knife from his slack right hand before he can stop you and grit your sore teeth together as you slash it across your palm.

“N-no, don’t…” But he doesn’t resist as you hold your bleeding palm to his mouth. His empty eyes flash back to life with the first taste, and then he takes your hand in his own and drinks greedily. You watch with nothing short of disbelief as the cut on his arm seals itself right before your eyes.

“You were supposed to stay away from this,” he murmurs as his tongue sweeps across your palm. “Why the fuck are you here, baby?”

You don’t even remember anymore. Everything is hazy, everything hurts. It’s a chore just to keep your eyes open.

“Damn it,” he growls–pushing your hand away from his blood-smeared mouth seems to take all his willpower. “I never wanted this for you.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur as you slump down against his sheets. They’re so soft and light, and you want to cocoon yourself in them for the rest of time. “It’s just a dream.”

“Why’d you have to come save me? Huh?” His voice sounds so far away that you’re not even sure he’s really speaking. 

“I love you.” It’s okay to say that, because he’ll never actually find out. It’s just a dream, after all; you’ll wake up in the morning confused but totally okay.

“You were never supposed to,” his voice echoes from some plain of existence far, far away. “Damn it honey, stay awake just a minute longer.”

You try, but your eyes are so heavy. He sighs heavily, as if he knows it’s useless.

“Promise you’ll still love me when you wake up,” he pleads through the tunnel that separates you.

Nodding saps the last of your strength, so you let your eyes flutter closed. “Okay.”

You feel his lips against yours and his coppery kiss nearly brings you back from the verge of sleep. In the end, though, your throbbing head wins. Sleep takes hold quickly despite your feeble resistance. 

How strange it is to fall asleep in a dream.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my lovelies <3

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[medusapelagia]

25 The soulmates program

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Soulmates ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Scientists ) @aug-kissed (prompt: First Kiss) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: no one Words: 901

“So, in this experiment, we’re trying to determine if it’s possible to find the perfect soulmate without even knowing them. We interviewed all our volunteers and found a perfect couple. This experiment is the hardest we have ever made. Not only do the two candidates come from two very different social classes, but this is a homosexual couple.”

The audience gasps loudly.

“I must specify that one of the volunteers declared to be gay and the other was open to a homosexual relationship.” The scientists show a PowerPoint presentation pointing at some statistics, “As you can see they don’t have the same interests or hobbies, they live very different lives, but looking at the diagram you can see that they have the same opinions about relationship, friendship, and commitment. You can see that our first subject, Steve, gives very high importance to family and relationship and commitment, and our second subject, Eddie, is just a little bit under on the commitment but they have the same level of importance given to family and relationship. So they are here, after a few dates, to tell us how it worked out for them. Please welcome them.”

The two boys who get into the conference room couldn’t have been more different: one wears a shirt and a pullover over a pair of dark blue jeans, a pair of squared turtle glasses, and a very soft smile, the other is dressed all in black, with a leather jacket, a pair of high boots and some black jeans ripped at the knee revealing a huge skull tattooed on the right knee and black nail polish.

“So, Eddie and Steve, right?” The scientist asks, looking at his file.

“I’m Eddie. He’s Steve.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. So. How did our experiment go?” the man inquires with curiosity, pushing his glasses with one finger.

They both start talking at the same time, before laughing and begin a little dance of “You go first.” “No, you go first.”

In the end, it’s Steve who grabs the microphone, “Hi everyone. I’m Steve Harrington. I signed up for this experiment because I was tired of dating the wrong person and I thought that maybe someone who didn’t actually know me could help me understand what I was looking for.” he turns toward Eddie with a soft smile, “If it wasn’t for this experiment I don’t think I would have ever go out on a date with someone like Eddie. Nothing wrong with him, but as anyone can see we’re not exactly similar.” he chuckles before giving the microphone to Eddie.

“Yeah. That’s right. I would have never looked at someone like Steve to have a stable relationship. I mean, he doesn’t know Metallica and doesn’t play DnD which is like the first thing I ask everyone I date. But yeah. I signed up for this experiment to prove to my buddies that there’s no way you could find a soulmate thanks to some calculation and look at me! I’ll have to buy a lot of beers this year.” He smirks.

“So we must assume the experiment went well.”

Eddie and Steve share a look, “What do you say? Should we tell them?” Eddie asks, playing with a lock of hair.

“Tell us what?”

Steve beams when he grabs the microphone, “We’re engaged. We’re still working on the specifics, I live in Chicago he lives in Los Angeles, but yeah. We are going to get married.” 

“That was unexpected, especially from you, Eddie. Weren’t you against marriage?”

“Have you seen him? Since the first time we kissed after our first formal date, I knew I couldn’t let him go.”

“Remind us of your first date. We sent you each other's description and asked you to meet at the local mall, isn’t that right?”

Steve brushes some hair away from his face, “When I saw the description I was really in doubt. I didn’t think Eddie could have been the right person for me, but I decided to give him a chance. We met at Starbucks. Drink a coffee or two and by the time we leave the coffee shop I was already in love.”

“I was lovestruck as well. Surprised that someone so hot was still single and looking for flaws I didn’t find, so we just chatted and as soon as we left the coffee shop we kissed. I think we both tasted like burned coffee but it was the best kiss I have ever had. And so here we are. Proving that the program can help you find your soulmate.”

The audience applauds, and then Steve and Eddie leave the conference room, hand in hand, until they are far enough from the conference room they look at each other, “What do you think?”

“They totally eat up all that shit. Great work Stevie.” Eddie replies, giving him a high-five.

“You weren’t half bad either, Munson.” Steve replies with a wink, “Now let's make sure they transfer the money to our bank accounts.”

“Can believe your parents agreed to our little plan.”

“It’s their program. They want people to believe they can actually find their soulmate thanks to this program so… it’s a win-win, right?”

“Still convinced about the wedding?”

“I always wanted a big ceremony. I can give you a couple of months of my life before asking for a divorce.” Steve winks, “Now let’s go. This place stinks of stupidity.”

[reidingandwriting]

Speak Now (Hotch's Version)

Chapter Three: Haunted

"Don't go, don't go, don't leave me like this..."

Word Count: 1,400 (another short one, sorry!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence, gunshots mentioned, reader gets injured

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Eight months had passed since you’ve started dating Aaron, and you couldn’t be happier. You had met Jess a few weeks into dating, and a few weeks later, you met Jack. You adored the kid and he always seemed happy when you were around, which made Aaron happy, which made you even happier. You had now been a part of the BAU for almost nine months now, and you were happy. Things were never better. 

You had spent the night at Aaron’s the night before, due to the water in your apartment building being shut off. You had gotten back from a long case, Jack at Jess’s, and you barely even remember walking through the door a little after midnight- just to be woken at four o’clock with another case. 

“Do we have to?” You whined as you rolled over, and you draped yourself across Aaron as you felt him start to sit up. Aaron carded his fingers through your hair, a tired chuckle leaving his lips, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I know,” Aaron’s voice was soothing, deep and raspy from just waking up. “Hopefully you can sleep on the jet.” You mumbled some incoherent response and dragged yourself out of bed. God you hated these early morning calls. You stumbled through your getting ready routine, and you sipped at the coffee clutched in your hands like it was a lifeline. 

Not even an hour later, you were on the plane for a flight to Los Angeles. You laid on the couch, your legs draped over Emily’s lap. Aaron was half asleep, head leaned against his window, and the usual antics you and your teammates got into were abandoned for rest. You had a feeling this case, a serial killer who abducts his victims then holds them for a few days of torture before brutally killing them on the fourth day. You had a feeling this would be another long, hard case. 

And you were so, so right. Word had gotten out that the BAU was working the case, and your unsub went silent for nearly two weeks. On day eleven, he acted again and he had devolved exponentially. Two bodies were found in the alley near the precinct, and none of the nearby cameras got a clear enough image to identify the unsub. You hadn’t seen anything like it in your time at the FBI, let alone the short time you’ve been in the BAU, and you felt discouraged. This was a mutual feeling across the board with the team, and you could feel the tension as you walked into a room. It was hard enough to mask your feelings when talking to families and local detectives, and you could barely hide your frustrations with the case when you walked into your hotel. 

“Do you want to shower first?” Aaron asked and you shrugged as you fell face first into your bed. 

“Wanna shower but also just want to melt into this mattress and not get back up,” you said, your voice muffled by the comforter. “You can shower first, I just. I need quiet and the shower feels too loud right now.” Aaron’s footsteps sounded through the room, followed by the click of a light switch. The room was enveloped into darkness, and a second later, the bathroom light was turned on, giving a light glow to the room. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything else?” Aaron asked and you thought for a moment.

“‘M okay. Thank you,” you turned your head to offer a small smile to Aaron and winced as your head throbbed. 

“Migraine?” Aaron asked as he walked over to his suitcase and you groaned in response. “Need water?”

“Nuh uh,” you said and Aaron took your hand before he tucked two pills into your hand. 

“I’ll be quick, then you can shower. Hopefully get some sleep,” Aaron pressed a kiss to your hair and you leaned into the touch. Aaron gently rubbed your shoulder once before he walked to the shower, the door shutting behind him, and you welcomed the darkness. You sat up to swallow the pills and hoped you’d at least get a little sleep tonight.

As if your body had read your mind, you barely got any sleep last night. The migraine had dissipated to an easily ignored ache, but your brain refused to shut off. There was so much noise outside your hotel, Aaron’s usually happily welcomed cuddling tendencies had become too much sensory wise, and you were stressed. You clutched your thermos as if your life depended on it, and you felt seconds from snapping at the next person that breathed in your direction. You, Aaron, and Emily were in the SUV to follow a new lead and Emily’s humming in the backseat was slowly grating at your nerves. 

“Can you just? Shut up for one minute?” You snapped and Aaron glanced over at you with a concerned frown and Emily hesitated, taken aback by your tone. Aaron said your name and you barely fought the urge to huff like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get what there is to be humming about right now. This is a shit case and I don’t mean to be an ass, but-” You were cut off by Aaron saying your name again, this time in his ‘boss’ voice. 

“That’s enough. If you can’t control yourself better than this, I’ll send a cab to take you back to the hotel. We don’t need you out in the field today if you can’t control your temper.” 

“I can handle it, sir.” You didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but the words slipped before you even processed what you were saying. Aaron put the SUV into park as you reached the house you would be checking out, and Aaron’s jaw was clenched. “I’m sorry,” you said, but you knew it was too late. 

“We’ll discuss this later. Stay in the car, we shouldn’t be long.” Aaron said and he started to get out of the car. Emily followed and you leaned back in your seat, drinking some more of your coffee that now tasted sour. Grounded to the car, like a child. You took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down and sat in silence for a few minutes. 

-

“Is everything okay?” Emily asked and Aaron let out a slow breath. The house looked empty and the two spoke in faint whispers as they did another light sweep. 

“They’re just… overwhelmed. Doesn’t excuse it, but tensions are high. It’s nothing personal.” Aaron said. Another clear pass through the second floor and the two agents made their way downstairs. When another sweep of the downstairs revealed nothing, Aaron and Emily started to make their way outside until BANG BANG BANG. The sound of gunshots had Emily and Aaron ducking, and Aaron covering Emily. 

“It came from outside,” Emily whispered in horror and Aaron’s heart stopped. Aaron ran outside and his years of training were almost forgotten at that moment. The SUV door was opened, and the unsub stood over a body a few yards away, gun in hand. Aaron barely recognized the body as your own before he raised his own gun, a shot to the chest sending the unsub to the ground. A weak cough sounded and Aaron ran to you, immediately dropping to his knees.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Aaron mumbled and your eyes were hazy as they met his. “Hey, hey. Stay focused on me, okay?” Aaron’s voice wavered and your breath hitched as your eyes watered. Aaron pressed his hands to your wounds, hoping to slow the bleeding until medical could get there. He just had to keep you alive until then, just had to keep you talking.

“I, I saw him- Tried to, to get away. Couldn’t… couldn’t let him. M sorry for leavin’ the car.” Your eyes blinked a few times, like you were trying to focus. “Cold.”

“I know, I know. You’ll be taken care of soon, and they’ll fix it. You’ll be okay, you just have to stay awake. Just a little longer,” Aaron pleaded and your hand reached out for his. You rested your hand on top of his own, your speech slurring. 

“Love.. you… Aaron.”

“I love you, too,” A choked cry left Aaron’s lips and the sound of sirens sounded faint as they started to approach. “Hey, hey, keep your eyes open.” A panicked cry of your name was the last thing you heard as you slipped into darkness.

[rotandguts]

✶ ┄ YOU WEREN’T MINE TO LOSE

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader, 

part one of the ‘august’ series. 

camp map

summary: the first week back at camp is never easy, but it definitely doesn’t help matters that your lifelong rival and ‘mortal enemy’ is there. both picked as camp counsellors, you’re forced to work together for the good of the camp, but that doesn’t mean you have to like each other.

word count: 10k+

content: SUMMER CAMP AU, rivals/enemies to lovers, implications of transphobia, mentions of bullying, slowburn, angst, mentions of alcohol/intoxication/underaged drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of divorce and abandonment, hints of david allen (evil dead 2013) x fem!reader, some people may be quite OOC?

A/N: EEEEEEK, this is going to be a long one but will be split up into chapters. btw i have no clue what danny’s actual last name is so for the sake of this story its bixler bc that's what beth’s confirmed name is okay? I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LMAO part 2 and 3 will take very long also okay okay i’m so sorry pls enjoyyyyyy xoxo

publishing date ―  july 21st 2023 |  © rotandguts

✶

The winding road on the way to camp was claustrophobic, your first year driving there yourself. You prayed you were still on the right route, your phone’s GPS struggling to update after losing service a while back.

The sight of the endless rows of green trees was becoming redundant, the charm of the wilderness already wearing off on you upon the second hour of your journey. Eyes on the road, you slurped on the blue raspberry Slusho you picked up at a gas stop mid-journey. Savouring the cool syrup induced taste in the summer heat, windows down and car speakers blaring.

A large wooden sign came into view, confirming your path and indicating the end of the long journey. Engraved on the sign was:

CAMP KANDAR

est. 1959

You have gone past this sign every year since you were 8 years old. Initially reluctant to attend, you grew to truly love the place. You giggled at the thought that they almost had to pull you kicking and screaming from the car when you realised you would be remaining there for a little over a month the first ever time you arrived. How times had changed seeing as you were now willingly returning as an adult.

Camp Kandar was just outside Los Angeles, a safe hub to send your kids away to learn what the outside world was like at a reasonable price.

If you imagine what your ideal slasher sleepaway camp would look like from a 70s horror film, Kandar probably looked exactly like it. You were surprised that in all the years of running it no one had actually died there, as far as you were aware anyway.

There were rumours and myths of the camp being built over an ancient castle. Or maybe it was a burial ground? It changed every few years when new counselors got to tell their own version of the myth to the young campers.

This actually would be your first year as a counselor at the camp, it was either this or spending more time slaving away at your job in the local Henrietta’s pizza. You could no longer bare the daily heat and stench of the pizza kitchen, especially during summer.

Hands from distant figures you couldn’t make out waved at you on arrival. Your car finishes its journey in the parking lot beside a Buick Roadsmaster at the child and parent drop off point. You furrow your brows, the campers weren’t meant to arrive for another 2 days.

Exiting the car, you take a moment to breathe in and embrace your new home for the next few weeks, your summer sanctuary for over the past decade greeting you like an old friend. Thick, moist summer sweetness so rife in the air that it makes you feel almost sick to your stomach.

The first thing on your itinerary was to collect your uniform from the camp reception, which you were sure you’d be manning at some point during your time working there. You thought of all the things you’d be able to do now as a counselor, buzzing around the prospect of sneaking out late to whatever party they’d always throw near the old cabin. None of the younger campers were invited, only hearing fabled tales of wild goings on from the distant music and laughter in the night.

Camp director Williams definitely knew about the extracurricular goings on at the camp, and while he took no nonsense, he knew that kids just want to have fun. It’s what made him such a great leader, although the shotgun on the wall above his desk definitely kept campers on edge.

With your case trailing behind you and your backpack hanging casually from your shoulder, you set off towards the camp reception. The building clearly needed a refresher, certain letters in the sign slightly faded due to time and the wood of the steps creaking to a cautious extent under your feet.

Doors swing open, eyes flicker to you. A woman with long red hair stands at the desk with her back to you, obviously in distress talking to director Williams, her arms flailing with hushed whispers.

“Oh great. And you’re here, now. My day just gets better.”

And him.

You turn around and there he is, bags slung on the floor, leaning against the wall with a Nintendo Switch in hand.

Danny Bixler-Sutherland, your worst nightmare.

You had met him that first ever year at camp, becoming close friends after you were assigned to share a bunk. But something shifted in both of you, you were unsure when it all really started. You were both naturally competitive at the group activities from a young age and usually always sorted onto different teams, you always wondered if your competitive playing style drove a wedge in between you both.

Director Williams places a hand on her arm in comfort, “Please, we’ve known each other for how many years now? You know you can call me Ash, Ellie. We can just get bunks sorted for them until moving in day and then sort out proper accommodation. Means they’re not alone in the cabin.” He began to walk towards you, shifting the woman to face you. It was Danny’s mother, Ellie with a striking hair dye job.

Danny had always been in your dormitory growing up, until he came out and his mom fought tooth and nail to get him transferred to the boys dorm. He was popular around camp and people adjusted to the news quickly. But, there were of course a handful of dickheads that treated him like shit because of it. Director Williams put great measures in place to ensure none of them bothered Danny again, some of them being kicked out of camp. You had always wondered if that shotgun had been involved in Williams’ interrogation of them, you hoped it had.

Ever since the summer when the championship was determined to be a tie after you and Danny broke into a fight during the last challenge, you’d been at each other’s necks at almost every possible second.

However, deep down you had an inkling that it all really had something to do with a night that same year, around five or six years ago when a small group of the pre-teen campers, including the both of you, snuck out to camp in the woods.

It had been a largely uneventful night, the excitement in the moment mainly fuelled by the breaking of rules. By the end of the night it had become apparent that despite the bunks in their dorms not being the comfiest, they sure beat the makeshift tents and dusty forest floor.

But the shift in the air was clear. You went into those woods that night, hoping for a last chance of that closeness so present in your youth. By the time you left in the morning and returned to your respective dorms, you barely spoke.

Both of you may have been at each other's necks at the best of times, but insulting each other's appearances or anything personal was a line you both silently agreed to never ever cross. You remembered overhearing bitchy whispers from some of the girls in the cafeteria about him when he first appeared with short hair pre-transition, and you took great pleasure in cutting their hair that night when they were sleeping.

When the girls reported you to the director he had simply shrugged and said, “Talk shit, get hit girls. First rule in the book.”

And it’s not like he wouldn’t do the same for you. Some of the boys had been teasing you, more specifically teasing your figure, behind your back. Low and behold, you had heard that Danny took the charge when standing up for you. It was little things like that that meant you could never truly hate him, and same for him about you.

It was kind of like, the only people that could be mean to you both were the two of you. It was endearing in a way that you would rather die than to admit outloud, a sign of respect from your former friendship.

“Is this a bad time?” You question Danny, feeling like you’ve walked in on something you shouldn’t have but not wanting to pester director Williams until he ends his conversation. “Every place you exist in is a bad time.” Danny remarks, concentration still fully on the games console in front of him.

“That’s a low blow even for you, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today, Mr Crankypants?” You retaliate, readjusting the weight of your backpack.

“You’re a little too old for camp, scout.” That was his nickname for you ever since you were younger. Without context it seemed almost endearing, but the reality of it drove you crazy.

In an attempt to impress an older counselor years ago, you had told a little white lie that you were a scout with all the training. This was a lie you kept up for almost the full time at camp, and doubled down on it on most days. On a hike, one kid began to have an asthma attack and the responsibility of helping them was promptly put on you by the panicking teen counselor.

Luckily, the kid was completely fine but it became apparent to everyone that you not only were not a scout but had zero knowledge in first aid training. No one had really cared, the counselor got in trouble for their negligence and own lack of first aid knowledge. Everyone went back to their normal jokes the next week after a spot of light torment from your fellow campers.

But you cared. It was just one of those borderline traumatic cringe moments in your life that you wish you could forget. And Danny, who was on the hike that day, knew that.

“Yeah I could say the same to you, DJ Dan.” He grimaced, slamming the console down on the reception desk.

“Jesus H Christ, how many years now with you both and you’re still doing this shit?” Ash wiped his brow of sweat, Ellie’s eyes fluttering between the two of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Good summer?” She smiled. You’d known the woman in passing for the same time you’d known Danny. She had definitely been on the receiving end of many phone calls about your behaviour towards each other, and your perhaps even worse behaviour towards others while acting in defence of one another.

Smiling and nodding back to her, “Yeah great so far, thanks - yours?” Despite trying to keep her smile, for a second her face flickered with something unreadable, Danny nervously shifted, eyes bouncing to his sisters in the corner of the room. They were so quiet you had failed to notice them sitting there.

“Same old, I guess.” Her hands clutching her car keys tighter. “How are your parents?”

If you were being honest, you didn’t know the answer to that.

“They’re fine. Same old, I guess.” You gripped the strap of your backpack a little tighter too. Your parents, while not mega rich, had a good bit of money. Most of your life, you’d spent much of your time without them or with a nanny. Summer was great because it meant going on holiday with them somewhere, anywhere. Until they realised they could hire a nanny in the form of Camp Kandar for the entire summer that was far cheaper and even further away from them.

Ellie politely nodded, before approaching the girls. “It’s just two days extra, right? I’ll be there to pick you all up the first second I can and bring you home.” Bridget nods, the older of the two. Kassie looked pained for a moment. Danny began to walk over, finally leaving his haunt, sitting beside Kassie and holding her small hand in his own.

“But what’s gonna happen? Are we even gonna have a home?” The youngest Bixler sibling clung to a pole with a doll's head stuck on top of it, you elected to ignore it as Ash pulled you to the side.

“Here’s the uniform, good thing you got here when you did ‘cause you and Danny took the last of that size.” Your eyes widened at his statement as Ash continued on. Danny, still holding Kass’ hand, glared at you with a twisted smile.

This confirmed the worst, he wasn’t here for a brief visit to drop off his sisters like you’d prayed, he would be a camp counselor too.

“Rota will get sorted by tonight, but all that’s really needed is some clean up jobs around camp before we open. You’re sharing with Mia in Cabin 13.” Your face lit up. Like Danny, Mia and her older brother David had been attending the camp since you were young. David, being two years older than her, became a counselor when he turned 18. You didn’t know if she would be returning this summer to do the same, the last time you’d texted she seemed reluctant to return.

“Great. Happy to do that.” Danny rolled his eyes at your enthusiasm. “Suck up.” He muttered. You chose to ignore him.

You set off towards Cabin 13, ensuring you got the first pick of the beds.

The cabin itself was small and pokey, compared to some of the other larger counselor cabins which resembled camper quarters with bunks. Considering the added privacy that came with having only one roommate, especially a roommate you were close with, the size of the cabin was fine with you.

When you arrived, you found the cabin cork board already decorated with pictures and the left bed claimed with a sports bag emptied out on the sheets. You couldn’t even waste time being dismayed that you got there second, not when you could hear Mia singing in the shower. You began unpacking everything you could and changing into your new uniform, the faster you got settled in the quicker you could get on with the fun activities.

When Mia had eventually got out of the bathroom, dark long hair damp with her new uniform on (a green and white t-shirt with the camp logo on it), she squealed as soon as she saw you.

Mia Allen was 5’2 and looked probably around 7 pounds soaking wet, give or take. Ever since she was little she’d been much smaller than the others, but what she lacked in size she made up for in her quick wit and snappy attitude.

And plus, it certainly helped that she had an older brother that could only be described as totally swoon worthy.

While at times sardonic and off putting, she was your best friend at the camp and had been for many years. Both of you being placed in the same dorm each year led to a sense of familiarity with you both. You knew each other’s habits better than anyone.

Others viewed her as troubled, with rumours of past years involving her using drugs on camp grounds or going apeshit on other campers - but you knew better. She had experienced her fair share of bad times in her life, mostly as a way of dealing with her sick mom, should she be punished for them forever? You definitely didn’t think so.

“Thank GOD Williams listened to my roomie request, I almost thought I was gonna get stuck with Olivia.” She bounces on you and embraces you within a death grip.

“I thought you and Olivia were friends?” The older girl was a medical student now but still returned each summer to help, she’d hung around you both growing up. She loved to follow the rules, with no exception or nuance to them. However, Olivia was without a doubt the most responsible of all the counselors and it meant the staff didn’t need to train her in first-aid every year.

“Um, yeah, of course we are. But I’d rather choke on my own vomit than have little miss campus police as my bunkmate. She does her own room inspections every week, David says no one even asks her to do them.” Mia rolls her eyes, going over to her bedside cabinet to put some perfume on.

“Fair enough, I’m so happy to see you. I seriously thought I’d be the only one coming back this year.” Running a hand through your hair, you watched her lean into your shared mirror and put on her earrings.

“I know, you need to tell me everything that’s happened since I last saw you. Oh my god, so much shit has happened with my mom it’s fuckin crazy, man.” She began to apply lipgloss. “Tell me about it on the way to initiation, I didn’t realise the time already!” You grab her wrist, pulling her from the cabin.

“Slow the fuck down! Listen, they won’t start without us, and we’re like two minutes away.” Mia halted your speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

In the distance you could see Danny and some of the others heading towards the campfire area, or as the campers called it, The Pavilion. His head flew back with laughter at something a girl you didn’t recognise said.

“Not you literally gawking at your boy-toy.” Mia murmured, making you turn to look at her with furrowed brows. “What?”

“Yeah, you heard me. And don’t think I’m talking about Eric or Pablo, ‘cause I’m not.” She pulled out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket of her shorts, offering you one. You politely turn it down with a shake of the hand, “Maybe later.”

“This whole uhhhh I hate you so much uhhhhh I hate you too charade is so 2018. Like I wish you’d just give it a rest already and fuck it out.” Mia struggles to keep the cigarette in her mouth as she acts out her impressions of you both before lighting it. You almost choke on her words.

“What the fuck, Mia! Not cool!“

“I am literally right! Don’t think I’ve forgotten that whole truth or dare bullshit from last year.” The smaller girl took a long drag and shifted her weight on her feet, hand resting on a tree beside her.

“You shouldn’t be smoking out in the open like this - at least do it in the cabin with the shower on.” You roll your eyes and begin to power ahead to the Pavilion. “A-HA, don’t try and change the subject with me missy because you know I am not that bitch to be messed with.” Mia begins to chase after you, almost tripping while stealing glances around to make sure no one actually catches her in the act.

“Mia, I think you should quit while you’re ahead. You know my feelings towards that boy and you know none of them are pleasant.” Halting and turning to face her, she does the same with slightly more unbalanced, disjointed movements.

She takes a puff, “Yeah, I thought I knew your feelings. And then you said what you said.” She wasn’t giving up easily.

“I don’t remember what I said.”

“Bull-fucking-shit, this is like pathological liar level. You’re gaslighting me, man!” She waves her arms around manically with wide eyes, obviously trying to tease you. Giving her one last begging look, she stubs the cigarette out. “Fine. But we’re talking about this later.”

With that, she powers on in front of you. It’s as if the nicotine has given her enough energy to run a marathon as she determinedly stomps towards the campfire.

That game of truth or dare had been a drunken mishap at the secret end of year party. You had both managed to score an invite thanks to David, and by association Danny had been invited by Eric. Olivia was too buzzed on wine coolers to feel the need to kick you out, so you managed to spend most of the night there. Mia’s drunk alter-ego ‘the Abomination’ eventually appeared which led to you and David escorting her back to the girls dorm in the early hours.

You had been asked by a drunken Mia, the absolute fucking menace that she was, if you had to spend a night in bed with any of the boys who would it be? Immediately without thinking, in your own intoxicated state, you answered Danny.

Before you could even realise the deeper implications of the question, you immediately attempted to justify your answer by stating that you had shared a bunk for years and didn’t kill each other during that time.

She had teased you in front of the entire group, in your own state of embarrassment you had failed to notice Danny’s wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

But the teasing was over quickly with Mia throwing her entire guts up in front of everyone, leading David to jump back onto his feet and promptly drag her from the scene, requesting that you help carry her legs.

What you’d failed to tell Mia, tell anyone for that matter, is that despite your answer to her question, you and David shared a kiss.

It was behind the cabin after you both dragged her back in her drunken state, you hoped all its occupants would be sound asleep. He’d looked at you with a glimmer in his eye, his testing patience, seeing who would make the first move.

Both of you had been dangerously towing a flirtatious line all summer, a line that you’d been tiptoeing on for probably the past nine years prior.

It had never ever been a possibility before, you were his kid sister’s best friend. You were just you. But here he was looking at you like that.

Do you regret it in hindsight? Sure, but you hardly remember it. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might break out of your chest like that little creature from Alien. The moist summer air of the early morning clinging to your skin, a strong hand on the low of your back. Pressed tight chest to chest, a forbidden taste.

You jumped apart at the sound of the snapping of sticks by god knows what.

You parted with wide eyes and uncertainty rising in your chest. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek.

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow, yeah?” You nodded, a smile growing. The start of something new blossoming.

David and Mia were gone by the time you woke up, you had assumed David had driven them off specifically so you both didn’t need to address any drunken awkwardness from the previous night. Mia wouldn’t have opposed, with her hangover probably kicking in tenfold.

All that was left in his departure was a letter saying that he’d see you next summer and that you should call him when you got home if you wanted to pick up where you left off, with a phone number left under the statement. You text the number, leaving him with a message.

hey david,

last night was a mistake. it was a plain and simple heat of the moment mistake - as much as I’d like to start again, i can’t do that to mia.

You sent ‘i’m sorry.’ when you didn’t receive a reply after a month.

Quite frankly, you were dreading seeing him far more than Danny. With Danny at least, you knew that whatever you had said last year had gone right past his head (or atleast you thought it had). Danny wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to make you squirm, surely?

Honestly, now that you had been able to think it through - you wouldn’t be opposed to starting where you left off with David, the whole him being your friend’s brother thing aside. He was handsome, kind, and popular around camp. He’d looked out for you since, like, forever and you trusted him. If you were searching for a summer fling David would certainly be your go-to.

But whatever. If nothing happened, nothing happened, especially after the text you sent him. You could play this totally cool, right? It was just David. Stupidly hot David, with his constant tan and his almost annoyingly unwavering warm demeanour. You still remembered the first time you saw that smile. You were eight and he was ten, you fell down and scraped your knee during a group activity. He ran to you before any counsellors could even get to you.

“You’re okay.” A hand reached out, you grabbed it. And there was that smile. A smile you could trust. Yeah, maybe you were gonna be okay.

It was undeniable how he made you feel. Your legs turned to jelly everytime you laid eyes on him, you felt like such a ditz. But the presence of Mia complicated everything. You couldn’t do that to her. It would be too weird. Unless, you kept it a secret? A secret summer fling could be exactly what you need. Why did you have to send that damn text?

But then ultimately, he was just safe. Despite his attractiveness, all of the passion of the fling would be mostly fuelled by his relation to Mia, and if you’re being honest that was a line you did not want to cross with her. If she even found out that you both had kissed it’d be game over.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Mia calling your name.

“Are you even listening? Wait up, I have little legs!” She was significantly behind you now, struggling to keep up with your pace as you unconsciously powered ahead in front of her. “Sorry Mia, my inner volume was too loud, I guess.”

She squints, smirks before tapping your arm. “Yeah and we all know exactly who you’re thinking about.” Your eyes widen.

“Dann-”

“No.”

Barging past her again, the Pavilion now in sight, both of you being the only two left to arrive.

While the overall area has rows of structured seating comparable to wooden bleachers facing a stage, for more intimate occasions such as this there were stools placed closer to the stage.

“Fashionably late as always, you too. First strike.” Ash attempted to chase away flies with his prosthetic hand, shooting her a stern look. “Hey- what the hell? What happened to a friendly camper hello?” She resigned herself to the first tree stump available in front of you, beside her brother. You could only see his back and still you could feel the butterflies going wild inside you.

“You forfeit that when you come back here as a counselor. You’re being paid for this, this is a job. Stay. On. Time.” You swallow, taking the seat near Danny. He’s whispering something to Eric, but your eyes still meet.

Neither of you break but both of you wonder who will be the first to.

You pick up on things that have changed since last summer. His hair, chestnut again after a brief bleach blonde stint. You didn’t know what he suited more, you liked both.

You almost mentally slapped yourself for thinking that. But it was hard to not think how actually kinda attractive Danny was in staring competition moments like this. His eyes had such a mischievous glint in them that begged you for more, egged you on like what you were doing was so, so wrong.

Your cheeks grow heated and you can’t bare to stare any longer, losing the silent game.

“Okay, Bridget and Kassie will be staying here with us a few days early. That’s okay. Just make sure you’re on best behaviour at all time big kids, make sure you’re doing your job and looking after the little ones.” Bridget rolls her eyes at his words. She’s fifteen and thinks she can take on the world single handedly. Kassie looks a little less sure, resigning herself to staring at the ground and kicking some wood chippings at her feet.

“Cheryl, you wanna take it from here?” Director Williams turns to his sister, who appears by his side. “Sure thing, I’ve sorted the camp rota.”

You glance back at Danny, his eyes still on you. He smirks. You feel like you’re on fire. Turning away from him again to look where you had been so desperately avoiding, you see David glance at you. He smiles softly when he realises you’ve caught him, sending a slight wave. You don’t hesitate to return it, hearing a Danny sounding scoff coming from the opposite direction.

Cheryl goes over your duties for the next few weeks, you’re placed in arts and crafts with Mia and Danny. And a new girl who’d never attended this camp prior, Natalie. You assumed it was the girl walking with Danny earlier, now sitting timidly beside Eric.

Great.

Mia you could handle, and you could probably even handle Danny alone too. But Mia’s unrelenting urge to tease you for your misspoken words and Danny’s eyes that seemingly bore into your soul at every chance was going to be a challenge in combination.

Your face must’ve immediately read your exasperation, as Cheryl reassured “Don’t worry, usually it’ll just be two of you in for activities. You guys will be mixed and matched.” Your shoulders sunk in relief, not even realising how tense you had suddenly become.

Your ear is met with the soft whisper of Danny. “Don’t look too excited.”

“Bite me.” You hiss back, he grins with wild eyes, like he enjoys the way you’re speaking to him.

“Hey assholes! And I can call you that now because you’re adults. I better see no fighting, no nothing, or else this year - got it?” More Ash than director Williams warns, you nod.

“I’ll try sir, but she’s the issue.” The boy points at you, false sincerity in his voice. You bite your tongue, giving Ash a look that portrays your frustration.

“Whatever. Seriously, I’m watching you two.” Ash points at the both of you, Danny rolls his eyes. Eric and Mia make a quiet ‘ooooooooh’ noise and then laugh at their accidental timing.

Eric was the same age as David, and his childhood best friend, although you had noticed that they had drifted apart. He was as sarcastic as they come, but knew when to shut up and be serious. He’d been growing out his hair for the past few summers, it now resting just at his collarbone.

He’d taken Danny under his wing when he got moved to the boy’s dorm, it was common that one would be seen the other around camp.

After a few more ground rules were laid out, Ash reminded you that you are now the adults in charge and that any responsibility will be put on you.

“Oh and by the way. This is Natalie, she’s new. I know you all grew up together but please make her feel welcome, yeah?” Cheryl put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, Natalie waving timidly.

She was so effortlessly pretty you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or roll your eyes.

With that, you were free to spend the last night free before your jobs started the next day. As everyone was departing, you notice David eyeing the new girl, who stands like a spare prick as Cheryl inaudibly talks to her. He leaves with Pablo and Olivia after taking a second glance.

There’s those damn butterflies again.

Mia wraps an arm around you and drags you in the opposite direction, heading to your own cabin. You pass Danny, who winks before sending you a sarcastic kiss. You respond with a middle finger.

—

The first few days go smoothly, managing to stay out of any drama. Everyone is seemingly too tired to really interact with each other outside of your shared meals in the mess hall, all of you still adjusting to being in a foreign home.

Drop off day was longer and more tedious than the previous days, an earlier rise than the already early mornings at Camp Kandar. Buses filling the parking lot, hurried parents ushering kids out of cars, kisses goodbye. A floury of campers old and new dragging their luggage behind them in the chaos of sorting cabins. Camp reception was even more packed than before with parents handing off medication and bus drivers piling up all the forgotten items from their respective vehicles.

When the kids arrived, you were kind of ecstatic, seeing everybody arrive from a different angle than you ever had before, remembering how nervous you had been each year on drop-off day.

The camp entrance itself, aside from the parking lot and reception, welcomed campers in with a large arch that displayed the camp’s name proudly. From here, past the reception, led to a large open ground shaped in a circle.

If you kept walking straight, the mess hall was in front with extra benches set up outside for the good weather. To the left, through the trees were the camper dorms. Scattered throughout the many acres, it was common for the little ones to get lost.

Just beyond that were the staff and counselor cabins, with Ash’s being the furthest out of them all. On the opposite end of the camp was the activity field and the lake. It was pretty simple to get around, but the prospect of getting lost in the surrounding woods was intimidating.

Bridget ran towards a group of teens, who welcomed her with open arms. It was odd to think that in a few years they potentially would be the camp counsellors, and you and your peers would be off in the world doing all types of grown up shit. Goodbye adolescence forever.

Your heart dropped when you saw Kassie standing to the side awkwardly, clutching her stick with the doll head on it. For the past few days she had kind of kept to herself while Bridget had helped with the bigger jobs setting up camp. Slowly approaching her, you decided to strike up a conversation.

“Cool doll, what’s it’s name?” You gently poked it, her face lighting up at someone talking to her. Because she was little, it was hard for her to be included like her older sister aside from odd jobs Ash would send her on. Things like sending her to the Pavilion to find the biggest pine cone, or seeing how many laps she could do around the activity grounds.

“Staffanie. I made her, so she can protect me, and scare off anything scary in the woods. Danny says there’s monsters here.” Kassie explains timidly, a shy smile growing slowly.

“She’s cool, hiya Staffanie.” You return the smile, she waves the doll head as if to make her say hello.

“She says hello back.” After a nice lull, she turns to watch a group of kids her own age stand and talk to each other, obviously knowing each other outside of camp.

“I was really scared my first year here too.” You bend down to get to her level. “Really?”

“Yeah, really, it was super hard at first. But then I met Mia and it was all okay.” The little girl looks doubtful. “I don’t know, I think people think I’m weird.”

“Well that makes two of us kiddo. Listen, you’ve got Danny and Bridget to help you out,” Before you can finish she interjects. “That doesn’t count, they're related to me.”

She was right technically. “Yeah, but they’re not required to be nice to you, are they? David and Mia are related and they barely hang out.” You point towards them, on opposite sides of the area, David calming down a crying mother clutching onto her uninterested child. Mia was poking the ground with a stick.

“I guess.” Kassie was still hesitant, head racing with thoughts of what was really going on back home. Her mom thought she’d done enough to protect her from the startling reality of the impending divorce, and in a way she had. Kassie was sure that everything would be fine between her parents, only really worrying about losing their family home.

But even the thought of being at this camp, making no friends and then coming back to nothing was terrifying to the young girl. And it was a reality that a girl her age shouldn’t have to face.

“Kassie, I’m gonna be brutally honest with you. I think you’re gonna have the best summer ever.”

After a moment, Kassie turned with a smile. “You really think so?” You couldn’t help but return it. “I know so, pal.”

It was harrowing, it was like seeing your younger self in a way. Coming here was no easy feat. Sure, the activities were nice and you settled in eventually, but that scary feeling doesn’t really go away even after all these years.

“I’m Kassie, by the way.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Her face lit up. “Wait, I know who you are!”

“Well we have spent the last few days together so I did hope that you would have known my name by now honestly-”

“You’re the girl Danny always talks about! You’re his friend!” Kassie kind of bounces around, her new found enthusiasm infectious but her statement alarming. Not wanting to burst her bubble after seeing her so gloom for the past few days, with a stiff smile you offer a nod.

“I remember all the stories from when you used to share a bunk! Wow, I hope I get a bunk mate just like you!” You aren’t quite sure what she’s talking about, as most of your time bunking with Danny involved arguing about his snoring and your constant shifting above him.

“Yeah, fingers crossed.” You mimicked your own words, she copied you.

“And I can teach them the secret bunk code that you taught Danny, ‘cause Danny taught me!” A stab in the heart. You’d forgotten about that.

You developed a quiet knocking, humming and scraping system to have conversations with each other. It’d been one of those silly kid things you just stop thinking about when you have your first kiss or learn to drive. You can’t really even remember what you used to talk about in the quiet moments of the night when you weren’t bickering.

“We taught each other, just like you and your bunk mate will make up new words. Just go with the flow and you’ll have a great time.”

Kassie nods, more than cheered up from the conversation. “I’ll remember that. Gosh, I hope I get put on your team for the games!”

“Yeah, me too kiddo.” A girl around Kassie’s age stands alone at the drop off point just beyond the arch of Camp Kandar. Her eyes scan the scene in front of her, campers overwhelmingly conversing in their individual cliques. Nudging Kassie, you point in her direction.

“Why not go say hi to her? I think it might be her first day too.” The youngest Bixler-Sutherland sibling nods, and takes a deep breath.

“Kass, if it doesn’t go well I’m right here.” You crouch to her level, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You knew exactly what she was thinking right now, as if this one interaction would determine her ability to make friends this summer.

With one last optimistic look, she trots off with Staffanie in tow.

“You givin’ my sister your shitty advice?” Danny’s voice catches you off guard, him appearing behind you as you watch Kassie from afar.

“Better than anything you’ve offered her the past few days clearly.” You don’t bother to turn to look at him, but you can feel his chin almost hovering in the crook of your left shoulder. His body, while not at all touching yours, feels close.

“Ouch, scout. And here I thought you were giving me flirty eyes at the first meeting the other day.”

“You fucking wish, Bixler.” He seems unfazed at your use of only one of his last names. In the distance, Kassie seemed to be explaining Staffanie to the other girl, who giggled and pet the doll head awkwardly.

Turning your head to face him, you’re almost caught off guard at how close he is.

“Kassie was talking about all the stories you’ve been telling about me.” His eyes flash with alarm for a moment, you have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight. Danny’s attempt to catch you off guard disrupted by your own secret weapon.

“Just the shit from when we were kids, before you become an intolerable bitch.” He stepped back, strutting in front of you.

“Well atleast I’m a bitch and not a complete moron, like you.” He sucks in a breath and scoffs. “This moron’s gonna beat your ass in the challenge teams this year.”

“Not if we’re on the same team, dipshit.”

“Pablo told Eric who told me that you’re in red team. I’m blue team, scout.” He circles you like a shark smelling blood for the first time, your eyes stay trained on him.

“How the fuck does Pablo know? Why would director Williams or Cheryl put us on opposite teams? Isn’t that just begging for trouble?” Your hands raise to rest on your hips, fists clenching.

“‘Cause maybe Pablo’s tight with Ash and Ash sorts the teams ‘cause Cheryl does rota. I was in red team but Eric asked to swap places and I said yes so I could be on the opposite team from you.” This bastard, always testing you. Always looking for a fight. Always needing to win.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Knuckles white, this was all going to backfire on you specifically.

His taunting grin begged you to lose your temper.

“‘Cause it makes us better. Why be just good at working together when we could be even better tearing each other apart?” There was that closeness thing again, him getting up in your personal space. This was all a stupid intimidation tactic and you weren’t going to let it slide.

“When director Williams calls it out he won’t let you switch, even if Eric asks.” Something was going on here, more than what he was letting on. His eyes take a dangerous glance at your lips, he was playing dirty.

It wasn’t like you thought of him in that way anyway, nor he with you surely. Ultimately, he infuriated you.

Though, anyone would admit he was in great shape. Chiselled jawline and soft blue eyes that would make anyone swoon. He was attractive and you had shared a bunk with him, it was inevitable you would potentially form a deep attachment to him, you supposed. It’s definitely not like you had thought about him in the heat of the night in the safety of your own room, miles and miles away from camp. It was a hundred percent not like you had ever, ever replayed your most heated debates in your head, thinking about how breathless he could make you feel.

Fuck Danny Bixler-Sutherland.

“Don’t be so sure, they can’t reject a team transfer as long as someone on the other team volunteers a switch, it's against camp rules.” He backed away, hands held up in surrender. That stupid fuckin grin still on his mouth.

“Plus, Mia would be a far better teammate than you.” And with that he leaves you.

You couldn’t get his words out of your head.

What the fuck was he planning? Would Eric stoop so low to be involved in some stupid plot to have you guys in prime fighting positions? What was he getting out of this?

Stumbling across the sea of new campers to get to Mia, a plan quickly trying to form in your head.

“Mia, I need to call in a favour.” She dropped the stick at the mention of her name, pretending that she had actually been busy the full time.

“Fuck no, baby.”

“Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?” Mia crossed her arms. “What is it?”

“You need to swap teams with me.”

“How do you know we’re on opposite teams?” Her position unchanging, eyes burning into your soul as if you were breaking the rules somehow.

“Danny might’ve let something slip, he’s in my team and wants to change with Eric so we can be competing, but I don’t wanna do that.” She glances over your shoulder at Danny’s current location, beginning to guide the campers to their assigned cabins.

“How does he know this?” You roll your eyes, scratching your forehead. “It’s a long story, but please Mia, I’m begging you - I need to beat him at his own game.”

Mia stands for a moment, watching the boy, before smiling and looking back at you.

“This is ‘cause you wanna spend more time with him isn’t it?”

“Whatever the fuck helps you sleep at night.” You cannot let her win this foolish debate she’s created in her head.

“Sure thing, I’ll swap I guess.”

—

You had completely zoned out of the induction campfire ceremony. It’s mandatory every year anyway, aimed at the campers specifically. You weren’t missing much. This team shit was driving you crazy, as soon as Ash coughed up that it was time for the counselor sorting ceremony you shot upright. Across the seating area you could see Eric nudge Danny, who barely acknowledged him.

“Okay guys, team red. Okay people here we go. Olivia, Y/N-”

“I wanna swap teams.” You stood up.

Some of the campers ooooooed at your exclamation, Olivia scoffed. “What’s so bad about my team?” You turned to her, apology written all over your face.

You couldn’t swap if you didn’t have someone to swap with, you knew this. But if Mia came in clutch then you also knew that Eric wanted to be on the red team for some reason, so no matter what he would swap with Danny.

“We’ve not even finished reading out the rest of your teammates.” Director Williams answers with an irritated tone, and honestly, rightfully so. You were being difficult.

“Blue is usually my team, c’mon Williams we know this.” Much to his chagrin, you are right. “Well, seeing as we’ve not even called out blue team members, how is anyone gonna swap with you?” All eyes on you, intimidating you more than you cared to admit.

Luckily, Mia came right to your rescue.

“I’ll swap with her.” She stands proud, like she’s testifying to the court.

The fingers on his prosthetic hand scratch his nose, for a second you wonder how it would feel to have such an appendage. His hand had been gone longer than you’d been alive apparently, the camp legend was that it got torn off by a bear in the camp outskirts when Ash was a counselor here himself.

“How the hell did you know you were on the other team?”

“Last year you warned us we spoke too much when we’re together at these things, I thought this year you’d want to keep us separated.” Mia’s excuse didn’t really make any sense, seeing as he had allowed them to share a cabin, but she was right in saying that when they were partnered up they did not shut the fuck up. “Red’s more my color anyway.”

The older man shrugged. “Swap accepted, I suppose.

That was that.

“Shall we continue? Okay, red team. Olivia, Mia, Danny, Sheila and Eric. C’mere.”

Your heart dropped.

What the actual fuck.

Even Mia turned to you in confusion as she began to walk down to the stage with the rest of her team.

Danny must have known all along that Eric wasn’t actually going to swap, he’d done this to throw you off his trail. If anything happens between you two it’s your fault for the switch over now.

But why? Why was he so desperate to manipulate you like that? If it had gone wrong at any point, if you had chosen to stay on the team, who would he have swapped with? Maybe Pedro was in on it too, but looking at him now he seemed even more zoned out than you were.

Danny’s eyes found yours in the crowd, you were instantly reminded of all the other types of shit like this he’d pulled in the years prior. You felt like a total idiot for causing a scene, tears threatening to fall.

“Blue team, let’s go! David, Y/N, Pedro, Natalie and Kelly.”

David. He’d completely slipped your mind.

Fuck this shit.

You couldn’t even turn to look at Danny through the rest of the sorting of the teams, not able to face his stupid smug face that you knew would be looking at you. Why did he have to be such a headfuck all the time?

The full thing kept playing on your mind even when you were back in your cabin with Mia. She was smoking a cigarette, leaning out of the bathroom window. Head in your hands, you sat on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Thank fuck we have our own toilets now, jesus, could you imagine only being able to use the fuckin shared one?”

“We still have to clean all the cubicles when it’s our shift, a private toilet just adds one more toilet onto that.”

She inhales the cigarette for a moment, letting it hit her lungs. Even with the window open it still stunk.

“Yeah, but like atleast it’s our toilet. I’d happily clean your piss on the daily over the combined piss of like 60 something kids.” Mia looks different with the moonlight on her face. Her eyes, kind of buggish normally, seem even bigger. Sometimes she looks like a different person, you think.

“From everything I know, I really thought he liked you.” She murmured, flicking the butt out the window when she finished. “I tried to warn you.” You look at her through your hands. She sinks down onto the tiled floor of the shower.

“Just so weird, right? Like what could he have gotten out of that?” Mia stares off to a point in the corner of the room, in contemplation. “I don’t even get why you don’t like each other. You both used to get along so well.”

You’d heard it all before, and your constant avoidance of the question came from the fact that quite honestly you didn’t even know how to answer it.

“All I know is that I’m gonna get him back tenfold.”

She smirks at you. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

For your arts and crafts block that week, you’d been assigned with Natalie. She was nice enough, kind of quiet but sweet with the kids. She’d spent most of her time asking you where things were. As far as you could tell, she was older. Probably not by much, at least around the same age as Olivia, David and Eric. She was from Salt Lake City, which you thought was a little far to come all the way to camp, but you didn’t judge her too much for it. It’s good to get away from home sometimes.

Kassie had indeed been placed on your team. Telling her that you were confident that with her and Staffanie on the team, you’d beat anything her brother threw at you both earned a giggle from her.

Another surprise was Bridget being placed on your team. She kept to herself or her friends mostly, but was more outspoken than a lot of the other teens.

Bridget had been attending camp the past few years since she turned 8, so you were more familiar with her than Kassie. In saying that, the age gap did mean that neither of you had really spoken to each other, especially as you weren’t a counselor before.

Each week, the teams would participate in challenges. Kids would file into the pavilion in their respective team colours, carrying makeshift posters and signs they had made during arts and crafts.

Waves of red and blue lining the wooden bleachers, allowing you to zone out while Danny lingered in your line of vision.

A soft hand to the low of your back, you jump. David waits with a smile and a water bottle on offer.

“Hey.” You soften, tucking a loose hair behind your ear.

“Hey, barely got a chance to catch up with you

since we got here. How you doing, kiddo?” The hand moves to your shoulder, a tinge of disappointment rushing through you. Another nickname, albeit a well meaning one, but one you still held in disdain.

“Not too bad, I've been busy keeping your sister out of trouble.” He chuckles, the famous David Allen smile appears. “I don’t know what she’d do without you.”

An earnest pause, but also a dangerous one.

“Listen David-“

“About last summer-“ Interrupting each other before either could make their point, and yet both so obviously on the same wavelength. The kiss.

“You go first.” His arms fold in a polite defeat. God, the bastard just oozed charm.

“Just wanted to address what happened last summer, between us. Just incase you felt uneasy or something it doesn’t have to be anything big if you don’t want it to be.” Heat rising in your chest, you felt like a stupid idiot with a school girl crush.

As if he could read your own thoughts, David placed his hand on your forearm. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Danny lingered from afar, no stranger to the occasional glance your way. He almost scowled when he saw your company.

You wanted to mention the text, you wanted to ask why he never said anything. Why he didn’t reply. But David simply rubbed your arm, “We don’t need to talk about it.”

A sigh escapes your lips, one you hadn’t even realised you were holding in. “Cool.”

The first challenge passes by fairly simply, despite Danny’s obvious attempts to wind you up. He was a competitive fucker, that’s for sure.

Team Blue manages to take the win for the night, with the kids chanting David’s name. He runs up to you, sweating profusely and yet managing to effortlessly appear like he was a vampire from Twilight instead of someone who just won a game of dodgeball.

“Great work kiddo, my second in command.” A grin appears, one that you can’t help but mimic knowing finewell that you spent the full game preoccupied with Danny.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Eric nudge Mia with a smug smile and whispered in her ear. She looked at you immediately and grinned, the worried pit immediately returned in your stomach.

She skips towards you, with Eric retreating to Danny who stands on the sidelines looking a bit misplaced.

“Guess who’s going to a party tonight?” Mia offers you two thumbs up and does a shuffling dance, that only manages to kick up dirt and makes you cough.

“The Abomination?”

“Okay, fuck you. Us! They’re having a party outside the woods. Dude, our own counselor party!” It had been something you’d spoken about for years, but you felt the effect had been lessened after last year's antics.

“I don’t know, Mia. I want to take this next challenge seriously and-”

“And what? All the tension from today will mean nothing when we’ll all be hungover tomorrow, group bonding?” You tried to find another excuse. “What about the kids?”

“Girl, fuck the kids! I want to party.” All you could do was answer with an awkward shrug, which she took for total defeat.

“YAAAAY. Okay, quick, we have like 2 hours to get ready-” Mia grabs your wrist and pulls you in the direction of your cabin, Danny standing on the hill watching you as you go by. If you weren’t so nervous about the prospect of being at the party with David and trying to listen to Mia, you’d think he was checking you out.

“You better be there, Scout!” Eric calls after you both as you pass, Danny’s head dipping beside him seemingly finding the ground extremely interesting right now. “Suck my ass, Eric!” He howled in response, earning a fit of laughter from you and Mia.

—

The winding path, illuminated with random lanterns left by partying campers long ago, seemed to go on forever. The prospect of getting absolutely shit faced at the end of the trail after a long week of ensuring the safety of screaming kids, patching up old equiptment and cleaning up actual shit was what kept the counsellors of Camp Kandar going.

The transition between the July weather and August’s own was usually indistinguishable, but tonight was particularly breezy. Regardless, the blazing campfire your colleagues crowded around gave a small amount of relief.

Cheap bottles of liquor and red solo cups, firebright light and wine coolers left discarded on the forest floor in favour of roaming hands on dancing teens. There was almost something melancholic about it all, one day they’d well and truly grow out of this forever. The fleeting fun of camp summer, the spontaneity of beers in the woods on a lukewarm summer night.

David strummed lazily on a dark cherry coloured guitar, you almost wanted to roll your eyes at how it looked like he’d stepped right out of a young adult rom com.

“I don’t get what you see in him.” Danny appears, housing a beer you can’t quite decipher the brand name of. You can feel his judgement despite his eyes also watching the older boy at the other side of the fire, unaware to his dueling voyeurs.

“What are you talking about?” He licked his lips, letting out a scoffing almost laugh at your reply.

“You never suited acting stupid, Scout. But then again, are as predictable as a Chainsmokers song.”

Fingers clenching around your cup filled with god knows what, how dare he? It took everything you had in you to show restraint and now throw its contains over his loose fitting tank top and cargo shorts. He was dressed like every female gaze dream skater boy forever immortalised on countless Pinterest boards - and yet you were the predictable one apparently.

“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick all of the goddamned time? You’re insane.”

“I’m not the one sleeping with my best friend’s brother.” Wide eyes snap to his, still burning holes into David’s skull across the fire with a tinge of unnoticed envy.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The clench around the red cup switches from anger to fear. He could always read her better than anyone. He finally looks at you, his blue eyes somehow welcome despite the venom you shot at each other. A pit in your stomach started to burn as if someone was inside digging it themself.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting this reaction. All I’ll say is don’t waste your time on him.” You could feel your eyes roll back, here he was backtracking trying to act like he was helping you again. No way were you falling for it again.

“I can spend time with whoever I want to. You’re just jealous that without alcohol I can’t hang around you without social distancing myself at all times.” You down the rest of your cup, just trying to keep your shaking hands preoccupied.

He shrugs. “Maybe I am.” His gaze shifts back to the rim of the beer. He contemplates copying your action and downing it as well. “Or maybe I just don’t give a shit ‘cuz I won’t even be around to see the fallout when you fuck it all up next year.”

Your turn to look at the boy again, taking in his frame for a moment. His hunched demeanour doesn’t read like he’s telling a joke or trying to wind you up.

“W-what?”

“Yeah, this is my last year. My parents are getting a divorce and my mom can’t afford to take us here anymore. And everything that was saved for my collage fund is getting put into the divorce. Surprise!” Danny uncannily laughs, clearly highlighting just how rotten the situation is.

“And it’s so fucked because we’re moving away and Bridge and Kass are leaving their entire lives behind and they’ll never get to experience this and they barely even know that we’re never going home again and it’s all just so so fucked-”

“Danny…. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, why the fuck would you I don’t even know why I’m telling you this-” He starts to dab at his eyes and make a hurried exit before you reach out and grab his wrist.

When you look into his eyes you see that same boy from the first year you bunked together. The boy that was scared of the dark, the boy that was chatty and so eager to be outdoors yet scared of the wilderness. You see little Danny, all alone in the big bad scary world with no parents to really protect him, as much as his mom was trying. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You never knew he was going through anything this serious.

“Wanna go on a walk right now?”

You expect him to tell you to fuck off and storm away, or cast some snarky remark about David. He just nods slowly. “Let me just tell Eric where I’m going.”

“Cool, I’ll get you at the carving tree.” He kind of fumbles a nod and scurries to find the older boy.

You turn and David is behind you like a jumpscare, you’re unable to hide a yelp. He laughs and places a hand on your forearm, you grow tense - mind too preoccupied with Danny. “Everything okay? I know you and Bixler are kind of neck and neck, I’d hate for him to spoil the party for you.”

Glancing back at the blonde boy as he searches for Eric, a tinge of guilt pierces through. “It’s fine, I can handle him.

“Well if you ever wanted me to say anything to him, let me know.” He shrugged, guitar still resting over him.

“I actually had something to ask you.” The liquid courage was saying it was now or never, and if it all went wrong you could escape into the woods with Danny who would probably be feeling even worse than you.

“Uh-huh?”

Here goes nothing.

“Today, when you said we shouldn’t talk about the kiss or whatever. I just wanted to ask what changed your mind after you left that note on my pillow?” David’s face is unreadable.

“What?”

“And yeah, I’m sorry if the text I sent was brutal and I won’t lie and say I’ve not thought about the kiss a lot. But I don’t know man, just help me here.” It almost sounds like a rant as the words escape your mouth, David raising an eyebrow in retaliation.

“Well I’ll try and help you out, I don’t know what you’re speaking about.” He seems dumbfounded, an expression you’ve never seen cross him.

“The text. The note. You left me a note, did you not?” Hands trembling, you wish you had it with you in the chance it would somehow completely restart his memory.

“I left with Mia. I needed to get out of there, it was crazy and intense, and kinda good, but like totally wrong.” He moves you to the side, speaking in hushed tones as if it was an affair on par with JFK and Marilyn and not a stupid drunken kiss.

“And then I texted you.”

“No you didn’t, I don’t even have your number. Show me your phone.” The device feels like a brick from the Great Wall of China when you pull it out of your pocket. You try your best to hide your uneasy fingers when you scroll to the conversation, a silent prayer that you didn’t delete it.

There it was plain as day. It was a real conversation. He lightly grabs the phone off you, still holding it at a level that you can both see it. He taps on the contact and stares for a moment.

“Kiddo, I am so sorry. I don’t know who the hell this could be ‘cause that’s not my number.” David peels his own phone out his back pocket and shows his own contact. He was right, the number was completely different.

“I promise I don’t have a second phone as well, and I’ve never changed it. Not since I was like 13 and you still had a Motorola Razr, remember those?” He smiles, going back into a personality mode similar to a dad or grandfather. You weren’t going to lie and say it wasn’t giving you the ick.

All you could do was nod.

“Nevermind, I guess.” He parts with a pat on the shoulder like he was your sports teammate. And technically that’s all he was. A teammate, a friend's brother.

You turn in the direction of the carving tree, Danny stands in the distance. The stomach pit returns, you wish the digger would just go on strike.

All you can do is collect your thoughts for a moment and prepare yourself for the trip ahead, ensuring to grab a bottle of vodka from the ground as you approach him.

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Something Great

Harry Styles x reader

2019 Harry era

Y/N lived a pretty simple life, well, for a 24 year old. She was a US history teacher at her local high school, and she loved what she did. When her mother calls her for a family dinner to meet a longtime friend, her life changes.

*Ding. Ding. Ding*

First thing in the morning and I was not ready for the days events. My students began to collect their things and just before I could yell to them, my mom calls. I quickly answer her FaceTime call and hold my finger up to her.

“Hold on Ma. Your cheat sheets need to be turned in Monday! If you don’t turn them in, you won’t be able to use it on your final!”

“But Miss-!”

“I have spoken! Now get outta here, all of you! Get to class and have a good weekend if I don’t see you again today.”

I hear a harmony of groans as they walk out of my room and I turn my attention to my mom.

“For someone that babies her nephews, you are kind of mean to your students, Y/N/N.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

“They’re teenagers, mama. You can’t baby them. And your grandsons are both under 3. Now what’s up? I don’t have long to chat.”

She glares and rolls her eyes at me.

“Well I just wanted to make sure it was okay to stop by in a bit. My friend is in town and we really want our families to meet and I’ll be in the area.”

I let out a small laugh as my eyes shift to the door to see my 2nd period students starting to pile in.

“I mean, I’ll be at dinner tonight so I’d just meet them then, but if you insist on stopping by, my 4th is free now since my seniors are gone. It’s just another prep period and I was just gonna do some grading.”

She nods and turns her head. She starts talking to someone and another female- with a posh British accent responds. They talk for a minute before she turns back to me.

“I’ll be there in a bit then. Love you!”

Before I can respond, she hangs up.

I sigh and prep for my next class, pushing my mother out of my mind.

>>>————->

My 3rd period just ended, so I take the opportunity to grade the essays I had assigned for one of my classes. My door opens and I look up to see my mom before looking back down. I can feel the presence of other people, but I’m far too distracted to pay them any mind.

“Yes ma’am?”

My mom only scoffs.

“I wanted to make sure you were coming to dinner. Dad misses you and he wants to see you. Your sisters will also be there. Also, I want you to meet-.”

My mom is quickly interrupted by the back door of my classroom opening. I turn my attention to the door and roll my eyes at who walks in.

“Michael, I’ve asked you not to use that door. That’s the emergency exit door.”

“But Miss, it is an emergency! You gave me a 0 for an essay that you never assigned to me!”

I sigh and shake my head. My mom lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it and I hear her walk out the room.

“I did give it to you, Michael. You folded the rubric into a paper airplane and somehow managed to poke yourself in the eye with it.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. My mom pats my shoulder and leaves while I deal with Michael.

I love my job but… teenagers. They’re too much sometimes…

I pull up to my parents Los Angeles home, my backpack on my shoulder as I walk in. The second I open the door, I’m tackled by my dad.

“Ay mija! Why haven’t you come to see me? You like the teenagers more?”

I laugh and shake my head as I hug him.

“I’m sorry! And you’ve been busy too with all your projects so I don’t want to hear it! But I’m here now!”

He smiles and squeezes me one more time before he sets me down. I set my backpack down on the floor by the couch and pick up my two year old nephew, Ollie, who squeals in excitement and laughter.

“Ayyy, my monkey! I heard you’ve been cursing like a sailor, haven’t you?”

He giggles and shakes his head. I talk to my dad for a bit and my dad pulls out a few of his new vinyls to show me.

“Really dad? Harry Styles? Mama is gonna kill you.”

He waves me off and shakes his head at me.

“You love his music! I bought it so we could listen to it while you’re here!”

He slips the vinyl out of the book and sets it on the record player. He places the needle on the record and music begins to pour through. My sister walks into the living room from the hallways and dad quickly grabs her, pulling her into his arms to dance.

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus, hoping

Take me back to the light

I dance around with the two year old as he giggles and I sing along. We all dance around and when my sister’s favorite song comes on, she takes her son from my arms and hands him to our dad, before taking my hands in hers as we scream out the lyrics together.

And I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry

Don’t call me “baby” again

You got your reasons

I know that you’re tryna be friends

I know you mean-

We’re cut off by my mom, whose hand is on the needle with an annoyed face.

“I’ve been calling you idiots for 10 minutes! Pedro! You came into the kitchen and I told you to get the girls! And they’re just screwing around!”

“Cariño, I was trying to let them finish! They were having fun, and unwinding without drinking! That’s a lot to be said for the both of them!”

My sister and I glare at him and we let out a scoff.

“Heyyyy….!”

My dad only rolls his eyes and puts the vinyl away. My eyes finally turn back to my mom and I’m now noticing her guests. A woman, around my mom’s age, another around my sister’s and- holy shit.

“Hey, Y/N, isn’t he…”

I blush and immediately advert my eyes. My mom scoffs but I refuse to look up.

“Y/N, seriously. Be polite. Look at our guests like the adult that you are and stop hiding like you’re 14.”

I groan but nod, finally making eye contact with his gorgeous, smiling face.

“Y/N, Sofia, this is Anne. This is her daughter Gemma and her son Harry.”

It’s quiet for a minute until a little voice, belonging to Ollie, speaks up.

“Oh fuck.”

Sofia and I fight to hold back our laughter as my mom glares at us, until we can’t take it anymore. Sofia snorts and I pick up Ollie as I laugh and turn to my sister.

“You see, he is learning Sof! He’s a little genius!”

My mom rolls her eyes and huffs as she storms off into the kitchen. It’s quiet for a minute before my mom shouts from the kitchen.

“Sofia Alexandra! Get in here! Now!”

Sofia and I begin to laugh again. She saunters off to the kitchen, laughing her ass off, leaving me in the living room with my dad, my mom’s friend and her children. It’s quiet for another second when I hear a baby start to cry and I look at Ollie, only to find out he wasn’t the one crying.

I turn my foot and head down the hallway and open the door to the guest room. My eyes catch the almost one year old, my youngest nephew Grayson, crying his eyes out while standing in the pack and play. My expression lightens and I take him into my arms.

“Did you just wake up little man? Do you want some snuggles? Yeah?”

His little hands grasp my shirt tightly and I can’t help but smile. He sniffles and whimpers as I carry him out of the room and rejoin the others in the living room. Ollie and my dad smile when they see us and Ollie reaches out to me.

“Atie!”

I smile and Ollie begins to kick in my dad’s arms.

“Oliver Thomas, we don’t kick, remember? That’s not nice. Be nice to Papa. Use your big words.”

Ollie stops and looks at my dad.

“Papa atie? Atie?”

Dad laughs and nods. He sets down Ollie and takes Grayson from me. I pick up Ollie and look at my dad.

“Will you get Gray a bottle? He’ll probably start crying again in a minute or two.”

Dad nods and smiles and looks to the older woman next to him.

“Anne, would you like to join me? Maybe keep my wife from killing anyone and burning the food.”

She laughs and nods before following him into the kitchen and they disappear. It’s quiet for a minute until Ollie wiggles in my arms.

“Coco? Coco Atie?”

I sigh and shake my head.

“Let’s watch Coco later, monkey. We like these nice new people and they shouldn’t have to suffer through Coco. How about SpongeBob?”

“Sponbob?”

He wiggles again and I nod. I set up the tv and he starts to dance around and sing along to the theme song quietly. I smile and check my phone for a second when I hear my mom call from the kitchen.

“Y/N! Could you put on some music please?”

“No!”

My dad sticks his head out, raising his eyebrow at me and I only smirk and he laughs, going back to what he was doing. I plug in my phone to the house surround system and immediately panic at the song that comes on.

Counted all my mistakes and there's only one

Standing out from the list of the things I've done

All the rest of my crimes don't come-

I skip it immediately and I blush. He clears his throat and I look up, finally meeting his eyes.

“You don’t have to skip it- I like that song.”

I blush even more and I shake me head.

“No it’s okay. My mom will flip out. She doesn’t um- really like the music that I listen to? She would um… Want to listen to that… I was just gonna put on her playlist. Not that she doesn’t like you! She just-.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone has their own taste in music.”

I bite my lip and nod, not knowing what else to say to break the silence.

It isn’t until after dinner that I really get to talk to him.

I sit in my usual spot on the balcony while everyone else sits outside enjoying the summer heat. I hear the door open and I turn my head to see Harry walking towards me with a smile before taking a seat at the table.

“I was wondering where you had disappeared too. Your mum thought you went home.”

I sigh and shake my head, gripping the red pen in my hand.

“I’m just grading papers. It’s quiet here. My roommates are at my house so I can’t focus with all the noise.”

He smiles and nods and I go back to my grading.

“You’re a teacher, right? I liked your classroom-.”

My eyes widen and I cough.

“Wait you saw my classroom?!”

He chuckles and smiles.

“Earlier. For a few minutes. Your mum was showing us around. She was so excited. You had a giant tapestry with my face on it-.”

I blush and bite my lip, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Birthday surprise from my seniors. They um- know how much I like you…”

He smiles and takes the pen out of my hand, causing me to look into his eyes.

“Well I like you too. Would you want to get dinner some time? I’m about to start touring soon but I’d really love to see you more.”

My face burns up and even more.

“God I um- I don’t even know what to say…”

I put my papers down on the table and turn all my attention to his smiling face.

“Have dinner with me, Y/N. I’ll cook for you. My place? Maybe tomorrow night? If it would make you uncomfortable I understand but-.”

I smile and kiss his cheek, causing him to blush.

“I’d love to Harry. Dinner sounds great.”

I smile and his eyes light up. We continue to talk and laugh as I grade papers.

A month later

“Specially delivery for Miss Y/N!”

I look up from my desk and see Harry walking into my classroom with a bouquet of flowers and a plastic bag.

“Oh you are definitely the sweetest. You didn’t have to do this Harry!”

He smiles and shakes his head as he kisses my cheek before sitting down in the seat in front of my desk.

“I couldn’t let you suffer! I know you didn’t exactly want to teach summer school-.”

Before he can say anything else, my door opens to reveal one of my seniors, now a graduate, pushing a big box in.

“Ally! What are you doing here? You’ve graduated, you don’t have to be here.”

She laughs and shakes her head, disregarding the fact that Harry is there.

“Oh I know miss Y/N but your birthday present finally came in! I’m sorry it’s so late but I wanted to deliver it as soon as I could. Open it!”

I laugh and walk around my desk, opening the big box.

“Good god Allison.”

She laughs and I sigh as I pull it out of the box.

“A cardboard cutout of Draco Malfoy? At this point I’m gonna have an army of these things.”

Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Wait you have more? Where?”

Ally gasps and goes for the closet behind my desk.

“Wait you hid them again?! Come on!”

She starts to pull out the other cutouts and place them where they were before.

“Come on Miss. Y/N. You love them! Be proud!”

I roll my eyes and blush.

“Thank you, Ally! Now get out of here! I have a class in a bit and you’re not supposed to be here!”

She laughs and waves before running out of the room. Harry looks around and laughs.

“You have cutouts of both myself and Niall?! How did I not know this?”

I sigh and lean into his arms.

“Gag gifts from students. And the day you came last, I had an eval with the principal do I hid them.”

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my head.

“Did you ever kiss that cutout of me? Pretending it was the real thing?”

I groan and look him in the eyes.

“Oh god! Harry!”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“Guess you don’t need to do that anymore. Why don’t you give the real Harry a kiss?”

I snort and shake my head, pecking his lips. We spend the rest of my lunch together and I am thankful for every ounce of time I have.

>>>—————->

Hope this was okay! I struggled with this one for a bit!

Please like and reblog!

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatiee @harrysmimi@violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @strwbrrydaydreams @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg

[pastafossa]

A Brief Existential Crisis (Matt Murdock x f!Reader; Fic)

Because this fluffy idea wouldn’t let me go so now you all get a drabble. Set in TRT!Verse but not required reading. SFW. Minor spoilers for ep 8 of She Hulk!

"She didn't know who I was," Matt said mournfully, staring blindly up at you.

"I'm sorry," you said, radiating as much sympathy as you could while also still kinda distracted by the Los Angeles weather report on the hotel tv. How was 68 degrees considered freezing?

"No one else recognized me either," he mumbled, his chest heaving on a great sigh. "All night. One guy even called me a gold ninja devil."

"Ridiculous," you agreed as he slowly edged his head further into your lap. You forced down your grin, which was especially difficult when his expression was so pitiful, not unlike that of a kitten caught in the rain. "Yes? What is it, beloved husband of mine?"

"You know what I want." He made a sad little noise, arching further into your lap until his head bumped your opposite hand where you'd settled it on your thigh. "Please, sweetheart. I need the dopamine after everything that happened."

You snorted and gave in, running your fingers fondly through his dark hair. You even made sure to scratch with your nails just for the way it made him purr and melt into your lap, his eyes rolling back as his mouth fell slack.

Unfortunately, this particular existential crisis was too great to be struck low but something so minor as your fingers in his hair.

"Is it... the suit?" he mumbled, the words just a little slurred. "Not... mm, mm.... recognizable?"

Honestly, considering the color, he's now recognizable from space.

It was just a good thing he was handsome enough to pull it off.

"You're always recognizable as the only Devil-based hero with any real charm," you said confidently, keeping your thoughts to yourself. You shifted your fingers to his temple, scratching at a new spot. You were rewarded with a blatant moan, Matt's toes curling in his socks. "Trust me. It's not you. It's them. LA is, uh... just... more focused on... its own thing. You know how it is. So fuck em. You're still my favorite even if they don't know you."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. And think about it this way. You might be less known, but that just means you're like, uh..."

"...I'm small-time," he sighed gloomily. "Just admit it."

"Hang on, I've got a comparison coming." You rolled your head up, narrowing your eyes at the ceiling in thought as Matt rolled over to burrow in against your abdomen with an exaggerated groan of sorrow. But there was no hiding his grin, not once you could feel it. "Don't suffocate yourself just yet."

He mumbled something unintelligible, and presumably tragic and martyr-y.

It took you a minute, but then you nodded. "Ok, I've got it."

He grunted, and tipped his head a little in prompting until you started dragging your fingers through his hair again, this time at the back of his head where the Devil mask always made him sore. The, "Mm?" he let out in response was glutted and thick, like the slurred purr of a cat on its back in a puddle of sunshine.

"You are basically one of those 'best kept secrets of the city' things," you said lightly. "All the tourists flock to the flashy stuff, restaurants that are shiny and get all the attention. But the locals know where the good stuff is, the quality stuff, and they know the best burgers always come from that one mom and pop hole in the wall. They don't tell the non-locals, cause someone might steal the recipe or buy it out. That's what you are. You're that burger."

There was a pause, and then he tipped his face up so you could see his warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That was very sweet."

"Thank you."

"It's also horseshit."

You groaned, rolling your head back as he laughed and dropped his head back onto your lap. "Come on, it was a good comparison!"

"No, no, there's no helping it. I just have to grieve my murdered ego," he sighed, blinking sadly up at you. Or your chin, really, but it was close enough. "There is one thing that might help me feel better, though, and distract me from my wounded pride."

"What's that?"

He hummed, licking his lips as he rolled onto his side, his head still on your lap, close enough for him to nuzzle at your abdomen. "I could eat."

Your brow furrowed. "We literally ate an hour ago. We went through In-N-Out. You were not impressed, you blasphemer."

He hummed, before leaning in and pointedly nipping the waistband of your sweats.

Oh.

"I'm hungry, sweetheart," he murmured, tipping his head down towards your lap as he drew in a slow inhale. "So hungry and empty where all my pride used to be. Can't I just have a little to help fill that void?"

"Oh my god, Matt," you choked out, two seconds away from losing it as he rolled upright to grab your legs and drag you down the bed until you were flat on your back.

"You're the one that chose food for your metaphor," he said with a grin, nudging your legs apart. "I'm just following my wife’s example."

"Oh alright, I suppose I could be charitable just this once. You did get spanked by a Hulk today, after all."

"She caught me. She didn't-"

"Spanked," you repeated gleefully, making him snort. "Want me to kiss the print on your ass and make it better?"

"At least let me eat dinner first."

"Fine. But I expect it as my tip at the end."

"Deal."

[an-otterly-adorable-being]

Hey there! This is a Rocky Rickaby x fem! Or gn! Reader hc req so i hope you don't mind the specifications for the reader i have lol. This is gonna be similar to the Rocky Rickaby hc with the socialite but its more independent.

Reader probably grew up in poverty but then like, moved to america to start and worked there. Basically a fresh start, things were rocky at first but they got the hang of it. But then somehow, for some reason, reader managed to be the most successful kitty cat in america. But despite being very rich and very successful, that doesn't mean they won't have envious people or rivalries. (Or admirers, bcus y not?).

But since this is fiction, reader is girlboss and managed themselves and is still financially stable, mentally? Probably not. But that's why reader LOVES Rocky right? Even if Rocky is this poor, stupidly deranged and insane, sad cat living in his (well, the lackadaisy funded it) own car. He still treats reader as he would to anyone. Even more so if reader is an artist like him.

I also feel like reader would secretly fund the lackadaisy and be best friends with Wick or sumn (i can hear Rocky's maniacal laughing rn). Btw, sorry if this was a lot for you to take in. When i see a fanfic writer saying they're alr with specifications yk damn well im jumpin on that req button. Hands n everythin. And since this was very long you can do this later or delete it if you wanna. Oki- BYEEE <33333

Ooooo, first request. And don't worry about the length, I've got you. Anyways I present to you...

Rocky x Fem!Successful!Reader Headcanons

For context, reader is a fashion designer. Hope this is good enough. Enjoy!

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• You grew up as a poor girl living in the streets of a small town in Italy, and it shaped a lot of your life.

• Your mother was a low paid seamstress, your father a soldier.

• When the Great War broke out, it left your family shattered.

• No deaths, but your father was never the same, and your mother followed suit after seeing how terrible he was doing.

• Throughout your life, there had only been one constant, one tiny thing that kept you afloat in the sea of misery that was your life.

• Fashion.

• You took after your mother, however you wanted to create your own designs, your own outfits.

• And so, that's exactly what you did.

• When your parents shut down, you took a needle, some thread, and whatever fabric you could scrounge up and got to work.

• Though you didn't receive much notoriety yet, you did manage to get enough money to go somewhere else.

• America was your decision.

• You moved from place to place for a while, setting up shop in Boston, New York City, Buffalo, and even Savanah, Georgia.

• All the while you kept at it.

• Your English wasn't great at first, and neither was the money you were making, but you could see it start to snowball as America's prosperity continued to ramp up.

• You moved around more, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, all these places you called home once.

• And while you moved your designs spread. Once seen only on the back pages of a local paper, your designs were beginning to feature on the fronts of national news.

• Catalogues and catwalks galore, you built a fashion empire on your blood, sweat, and tears, and the American people loved it.

• Eventually, after a few years of back breaking work, getting citizenship, getting a company started, etc etc, you became one of, if not the most, successful cat in America.

• Sure, you didn't have as much money as the heirs of old monopolies and tycoons, but damn were you close.

• You had your admirers across the nation, as well as your enemies.

• There were more than a few men who thought they could get one over on you, and while they still despise you and your work, you got the last laugh.

• After so many years of moving from place to place, it became second nature. And that's when you made it to St. Louis, Missouri. The plan was to only stay for a year, maybe more, if it was a decent place.

• You even managed to land yourself an invitation to a local speakeasy from an admirer.

• One night, you finally made your way down to the Lackadaisy, and you got to talking with a businessman, Sedgwick Sable.

• The two of you had a pretty good conversation, becoming fast friends over a mixture of success and hating most rich guys.

• And then a cat ran through the door, panting as he tried to carry about a dozen bottles of booze.

• After getting a bit of assistance, he made his way to the bar and sat at the stool next to you.

• It looked like he had been running for most of the night, and you could swear you smelt something burnt.

• Naturally, you talked to him. If his entrance was one thing, his normal conversations were about ten times that level of chaos.

• He didn't recognize you, too, or atleast pretended not too.

• You ended up finding out his name was Rocky Rickaby, and when you told him who you were, he was rather indifferent.

• That was certainly something new, and it intrigued you further.

• You asked him why he was being so...casual.

• "Well, maybe I don't know you, and maybe I do. Either way, artists like us are still people too."

• The rhyme was an unexpected, but not unwelcome response.

• Honestly, you wish more people had his attitude.

• From then on, you became friends. But eventually things changed.

• You ended up continuing your stay in St. Louis, partly because you grew to love the place, and mostly for Rocky.

• You ended up falling for him, and you know what, you had every right to.

• When you were younger you wished for attention, especially as your family crumpled around you.

• However the love and even hate you got from your work never truly satisfied that.

• Rocky did, though. He was sweet, a little insane, sure, but overall he was amazing.

• So, you crafted the ultimate plan.

• You made sure Rocky got a good amount of sleep the night before, offering up your bed for the night.

• It was way better than the car.

• Then, you spent the day together. You got him new clothes, took him out on a joyride around the city, and ended the night on a bridge over the Mississippi River.

• There, as the moonlight shone overhead, and Rocky played the night away.

• You heard him play many times before, but you loved hearing every new improvised song he came up with.

• You told him how you felt, and he happily returned your feelings, a massive grin on his face.

• The two of you have been happy together since then, and still are now.

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday WeirdKev!

@weirdkev27 Here is your requested fic, the VTMB versions of Philliane Tropy and Zan Owlson being interviewed by a film crew a la What We Do In The Shadows! It's not EXACTLY like the TV show, I admit, but I think it has the right vibes, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

--

[cut to: PHILLIANE TROPY, a well-put-together Ventrue with pale blond hair, sporting a pink suit and a bright smile that looks entirely genuine – at least for the moment. She is seated behind a large desk of the exact type you imagine any CEO having, hands folded on the desktop]

TROPY: Oh yes, I know what a lot of the other Kindred say about me, and it’s simply not true. It’s not that I don’t respect any of them – it’s that I only respect the ones that I feel deserve to be respected! It’s not my fault that the ones who most insist on respect are the ones least deserving of it.

[she adjusts her position in her chair, leaning back slightly with a more thoughtful look]

TROPY: Take, for example, a Prince of my recent acquaintance, one Sebastian LaCroix. Fellow Ventrue, installed by the Camarilla in downtown Los Angeles after they swept in to help the Anarchs repel an invasion by the Wan Kuei.

CAMERAMAN: [sound of ruffling paper] Sorry, hang on – we thought they were fighting the Kuei-jin?

TROPY: I’ve heard both terms, and after making some inquiries, I’ve learned they prefer Wan Kuei. So that’s the term I’m going to use. [shrugs] Might as well not make relations any worse, right? Anyway, I understood that becoming Prince of Los Angeles – the heart of the Anarch Free States – is an inherently stressful position. You are under a lot of pressure to make a good impression and do your job well! All without pissing off the locals. But Prince LaCroix...

[she sighs heavily and rolls her eyes]

TROPY: Well. His handling of his new domain left something to be desired. Zan knows all about it, don’t you Zan?

[cut to: ZAN OWLSON, Trophy’s top ghoul and known lover, a dark-skinned woman with a curly Afro, large eyes, and an intelligent demeanor, sitting on a nearby couch. She nods in a very world-weary way]

OWLSON: She called me so many nights to bitch about him – I can say “bitch,” right?

CAMERAMAN: Yeah, if we need to, we’ll just bleep it in post.

TROPY: [laughs as the camera goes back to her] Oh, it was definitely bitching, I admit it! Poor Zan, I kept her up at night, and not for the fun reason...but really, the things he pulled were outrageous!

[she leans forward in her chair, the humor in her face gone]

TROPY: Like, listen to this – he had an illegal Embrace in his domain, and not only did he initially try to kill the fledgling along with her sire – never mind it wasn’t her fault she was turned without permission – he then turned the poor girl into his woman-of-all-work without giving her the slightest bit of education on what being a Kindred meant! He had her running around all over the damn city, doing things like blowing up Sabbat warehouses and investigating plague cults – things that no fledgling should be doing on their own! And he wasn’t even paying her a fair wage for her work! Every ghoul on my payroll earns more than she did, with benefits beside – and they’re almost all office workers! I had to step in and give the girl the money she’d rightfully earned! Let me tell you, LaCroix didn’t like that!

CAMERAMN: [sounding confused] Yeah, bet he didn’t, but – hang on, back to the thing about your ghouls. Don’t you usually pay ghouls in blood? That’s what all the other Kindred we’ve interviewed have said.

TROPY: And they wonder why I don’t respect them! [smacking a hand on the desktop] Blood doesn’t pay the bills! Blood doesn’t keep a roof over a ghoul’s head! The monthly drink from your domitor is a health benefit at most!

OWLSON: [off-camera] Philli has strong opinions about this.

TROPY: [sour-faced] It just agets under my skin that most Kindred consider making sure their ghoul stays a ghoul is sufficient payment for the work they do. No, making sure your ghoul stays a ghoul just ensures that they can keep doing the work. They deserve proper pay and benefits beyond the retention of their ghoul status.

CAMERAMAN: [with a soft chuckle] You almost sound like you want there to be some sort of “ghoul union.”

[TROPY stares directly into the camera for a moment – then her face splits into a wide smile]

TROPY: That – is a brilliant idea. Zan, do you think we could start one up?

OWLSON: [off-camera] I mean, I’m willing to try – but there’s going to be a lot of pushback from the other Kindred with ghouls around.

TROPY: [grins, showing off her fangs – and looking truly dangerous for the first time during her segment] Fantastic. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to throw my weight around.

[httpseungmxn]

Youthful Changes pt. 3

Song Mingi x Reader(afab) 

Authors Notes ; the third, and final part is here! I know I made you guys wait quite a while for this but I can assure you all its worth it! There will be no smut in this chapter, since most of it is them talking about the past year and their future

Warnings; None as far as I know

Triggers; Brief mentions of Mingi being su*cidal but nothing happens!

If the long drive to a local cafe was awkward, you worried how the much needed talk would be.

You wondered if he would even want to talk, or if he had some bullshit excuse that took him five minutes to come up with. That was something you worried about at that moment.

You were so into your thoughts that you didn't hear his calm, beautiful voice calling out your name to tell you that you were here. Eyes boring into his admiringly. He truly was so beautiful, and you were captivated by him.

Following him quietly into the busy little cafe and sitting at a booth near the corner. A smile came to your lips as you realized this was the same booth you always sat with him and san at when you were much younger, as well as your friend harmonia. 

Harmonia had graduated last year and was whisked away to Los Angeles with her douchebag of a boyfriend. The last you had heard from her, she was engaged and living in a shitty little apartment. 

San was really the only one who stuck around, seeing as Mingi moved years ago now. You enjoyed san's company. He always knew how to bring a smile to your lips. However, being just you and him felt so lonely sometimes. You missed your little group.

Part of you hoped that things would be okay between you and mingi because you wanted the group to get back together again. But this wasn't high school anymore and you weren't young and naive.

You needed a proper explanation from the man you had fallen for. If he failed to give a reasonable one, you would have to do the hard thing and let him go. 

Looking to him once more when he brought over your drinks. Giving him a kind smile when you realized it was your favorite drink. How did he remember?

Eyes on your drink now, you could feel him watching you. He was probably wondering who would start this conversation. So you took matters into your own hands.

“where were you.”, you spoke softly, almost scared of asking because you didn't know what his answer would be. “ I want you to know that I will know if you're lying, so please just give me the true reason. ”

You could almost hear him gulp, probably from nerves. Maybe it was something bad that had happened to him. Or maybe he had done something bad to someone. What if he had become a dangerous criminal without even meaning to? Was he going to hurt you too if you found out? You were too young to die! 

Oh god, oh god, oh god-

“ my mother died. ”

Oh god.

Looking up to him with wide eyes, feeling already guilty for the tone you had taken with him, and how angry you had been with him over the year.

“ our family invited yours over last year so she could see you all one last time. She had stage three brain cancer. Six years now. She wanted to make amends with everyone before she died. I wanted to call you. I wanted to text. But I couldn't even bring myself to get out of bed. My dad had to drag me to the restroom, drag me to the kitchen. ”

Now it was your turn to gulp, “ Mingi, I'm so sorry- ”

“ Don't. Don't apologize. I should've reached out. I should've come to you sooner, because truth is…i needed you. Thinking about you, thinking about being around you, that was the only thing that kept me from killing myself. Thinking about getting to see your beautiful smile, pushed me out of bed. And I'm sorry that it took me a whole year to get here, I truly am. I hope you can understand that I care for you, and I wouldn't just abandon you like that. ”, cheeks turning red when his eyes met yours.

His voice sounded so sincere, and you could see the tears at the brims of his eyelids. This poor boy had been through so much, and you spent the whole year practically hating him.

Reaching across the table to gently wipe away the tears and press a chaste kiss to his lips. Not wanting to put on too much of a show for the other customers in the cafe, you sat bad in your seat and reassuringly took his hand.

“ I doubt you'll accept me so easily, but I like you, and I can tell you like me too. I'd like to be your boyfriend, if you'll let me. ”

This mingi was so much more different from the mingi you usually see. This Mingi is sweet and quiet, and…blushing like a teenage boy who just got his first kiss. That pulled a sweet giggle from your lips. Smiling at him brightly and nodding as you accepted his words.

“ I would like that very much. ”

And there it was. That million dollar smile that won your heart the first time. Staring back at you with what could only be described as true love. Something you were lucky to be able to see and feel.

Leaning forward to press another loving kiss to his lips. Song Mingi was flawed. Song Mingi was cheesy. Song Mingi was a brute. But Song Mingi was yours. And you would never change that. 

————————7 years————————

Staring at the beautiful diamond ring adorning your left finger. You found yourself doing this often. Just thinking about how lucky you are to have found the perfect man. To have the perfect little life you had asked for.

Things with Mingi had started off so strange and shaky, but he had proved himself worthy of your love time and time again.

Song Mingi was your soul mate, and y-

“ mommy! ”

Smiling happily at the sweet little face and lifting him up into your arms. “ Hi my love ”

Minho stared up at you happily while holding up a messy handpicked bouquet from the garden, “ I brought you flowers ! ”

Gasping and staring in awe, “ Thank you my little prince, they're beautiful ”, pressing kisses all over his sweet little face. “ where's daddy? ”

“ Right here. ”, looking up to your beautiful husband and just staring at him lovingly for a moment. You were so lucky to have him as yours. And he was thinking the exact same thing about you.

Song Mingi was yours. And you were his.

Nothing would, or could, change that.

Authors ending notes; and with that, youthful changes comes to an end! What did you guys think? I think I did pretty well for an ending, considering I'm not usually very good at ending 😅

It was a lot of fun writing this series for you guys though, and I can't wait to make more in the future! Thank you for all the support, my loves 🫶

[henswilsons]

to love you, for god’s sake

buck/eddie | 4k+ | ao3

Mr LAFD Updates Man meets a popstar. aka bad s6 spec. aka im so sorry.

“Wait, the Palladium?” is the first thing Buck says when Bobby gets off the radio. “As in, the Hollywood Palladium?”

“I can imagine so,” Bobby says, as he starts the firetruck engine. They hadn’t even gotten back to the station before they’d been radioed for an extraction in the local area; next to Eddie, Chimney is frantically guzzling the coffee Ravi had fetched for them only seconds before. “Why, are you familiar with it?”

“I wonder,” Buck starts, and then nothing else, ears flaming red. Eddie touches their knees together. It’s mostly grounding, the way he always does whenever Buck gets cagey, but also—he knows that look.

That’s the I think we’re about to bump into an ex type look.

Eddie normally tries to pretend that Mr LAFD Updates Man is one extensive bad dream, but when he’s dating the most good-looking man in America, who has also probably hooked up with half of millennial Los Angeles, sometimes the fact he’s a semi-famous public figure comes in handy. Namely in that he watched a TED Talk about powerposing and is not necessarily above evoking the Wonderwoman stance at Buck’s shoulder if someone ever gets a little too familiar.

(Besides. He did not suffer through multiple shirtless of pictures of himself being memorialised on what Ravi has explained to him is gay Twitter for people to think his boyfriend is on the market.)

“You wonder?” he prompts mildly.

He’s expecting Buck to maybe shyly duck his head, admit that he once dated a concession girl who worked at the Hollywood Palladium, or maybe even that he hooked up with a roadie in one of the bathrooms there—but then fucking Ravi looks up sharply, too. “Did you say Hollywood Palladium?” he says.

Bobby frowns in the rearview. “Is there something I’m missing here?”

“No,” Buck and Ravi say, at the same time. Then they both wildly hold each other’s gazes like they’re daring the other to say anything.

“Wait,” Lucy says. “Isn’t that country guy doing a show there tonight?”

“Country guy?” Chimney says.

“Yeah, you know him. What’s his name—Gary something? He’s the one with the…” She does an ambiguous gesture, snapping her fingers to remember. “Glitter. And cowboy hat. Right?”

The image vaguely rings a bell in Eddie’s head. To Buck, he says, “Don’t you listen to a singer who wears glitter and cowboy hats?”

Buck’s face has steadily gone redder and redder and he’s stoutly avoiding eye contact, and oh, yeah, he so does, and yeah, this is so him. “…No.”

Eddie is delighted. “Yeah, you do. He sings that one song about moonlight, right, that you always play when you’re cooking dinner?” Cowboys Don’t Dance, is what it is. Eddie will never forget it—it’s the song they had their first kiss to, over a half-greased muffin tin and an attempt at bran cupcakes. “What’s it called again… Dancing Cowboys?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Buck says, cheeks scarlet. “You know what it’s called.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says, to be an asshole, snapping his fingers. “Cowboys Do Dance.”

“Cowboys Don’t Dance,” Ravi blurts, and then claps his hands over his mouth. Lucy looks like the cat who just got the cream. Chimney is glancing between everyone like he’s watching a ping-pong match and grinning maniacally. “It’s called Cowboys Don’t Dance and it’s by Gerald Rhinestone and he’s literally my favourite singer of all time and he’s got a show at the Palladium tonight.”

Everyone stares at him. Buck points a shaking finger at him. “You’re a Rhinestone?”

“Of course I’m a Rhinestone,” Ravi snaps. “I have a Twitter account.”

“His name is Gerald Rhinestone?” Chimney says. He looks like he’s trying not to burst into laughter. “Is that a stage name?”

“Yes,” Buck says, “obviously. His real name is Dom Simmons.”

Eddie is so, so fucking charmed. “Obviously.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Buck says to him. “I know you know what that song was called.”

“Now, I’m not insinuating anything,” Chimney says, “but all I am saying is that that name sounds like it belongs to a gay pornstar.”

“Are we about to meet Gerald Rhinestone?” Ravi says, panicked. “Cap, did they say anything?”

Bobby’s voice is bubbling with laughter when he says, “No, dispatch did not let me know if there was a popstar there as well.”

“He’s not a popstar,” Buck says, “he’s a country star.”

“There’s a difference,” Ravi says.

“Man,” Lucy says. “I did not think the inside of his firetruck could possibly get any gayer after Buck and Eddie got together. And yet here are.”

Ravi maturely sticks his tongue out at her, and she sticks hers out in return. Hen says, “Oh, Karen loves Gerald Rhinestone. She always plays his music around the house when she’s cleaning.”

“What does she listen to?” Buck says.

“Her favourite is that one about horses. What’s it called—Ride?”

“Ride Until We Die,” Buck says. To Ravi, he mouths, basic, and Ravi nods gravely. Hen catches him and kicks him. “Sorry, but it is!”

Before they can start squabbling, the truck comes to a stop. “Okay, we’re here,” Bobby says, and then, before any of them can get out, he turns around in his seat, hooking an arm over the back of it, and looks at Buck and Ravi. “If—and I mean if—your Gary Rhinestone—”

“Gerald,” Ravi mumbles.

“—is in there, I want you to remember that we’re professionals and we have a job to do. I understand being starstruck—goodness knows when I met Scott Hamilton I blacked out—but we’re going into an active medical scene here, and I need you to keep your heads on. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Cap,” Buck and Ravi say. Eddie squeezes Buck’s knee.

“Who’s Scott Hamilton?” Chimney says.

Bobby frowns at him. “You don’t know Scott Hamilton?” Chimney shrugs. Bobby looks at everyone in the truck, and is greeted by blank faces. “Scott Hamilton? He won the Olympic gold in the 1984 Winter Olympics?”

There is a pause. “Oh, that Scott Hamilton,” Chimney says, feebly. Bobby just huffs a laugh and climbs out the truck.

Everyone follows suit, Hen and Ravi still hotly debating at how many songs and which ones they are can someone claim themselves a fan, but Eddie lingers to the back, with Buck, whose feet slow on the sidewalk outside the truck as he gapes at the big neon GERALD RHINESTONE sign across the front of the venue. He looks completely awestruck, and even though they’re at work, Eddie can’t help but nudge their hips together, just a little, coming to a stop beside him: Bobby’s at the front, anyway.

“You doing okay?” he teases, softly.

“I think I’m about to die,” Buck says. “God, Eddie, what if he’s there? What if I meet Gerald Rhinestone?”

“It’s two in the afternoon, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “You really think he’ll be there this early?”

“I don’t know! Maybe!” Buck presses a grieved hand to his forehead. It’s kinda hysterical how nervous he looks. If Eddie were any less secure in their relationship, he might have started getting jealous. “How’s my hair?”

“It looks good,” Eddie says; means it, because of course it does, because it’s Buck, who’s beautiful even when it’s curling and hanging over his forehead, but who also takes care to gel and comb it into place every morning. Buck smiles, a little surprised, anyway.

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Of course. You always look good.”

Buck’s smile comes a little softer. “You knew the name of the song, didn’t you? In the truck?”

“I’m not going to forget something like that.” He means that, too, because it’s not every day you kiss the love of your goddamn life for the first time, yanking open the front door, still in his dispatch uniform, Buck having beat him home by twenty minutes and stress-baking muffins for Christopher’s bake sale that Friday, barely getting a “hey” out before Eddie had strode across the kitchen, taken his face in his hands, and kissed him fucking silly—but also because the song is called Cowboys Can’t Dance. That’s the name of the song they had their first kiss to. Cowboys Can’t Dance.

It could have been worse, is how he comforts himself. He knows Buck unironically has Wonderwall on that playlist.

“Buckley! Diaz!” Bobby calls, halfway up the steps to the entrance. “You coming?”

“You’re a romantic piece of shit sometimes, Diaz,” Buck says, but he gets in an ass-pinch before he’s dancing up the steps, laughing delightedly as Eddie chases him up. “Hey, this is workplace harassment!”

It appears he’s mostly forgotten about Gerald Rhinestone, but it doesn’t last long. Someone harried greets them in the foyer, leading them into the mostly-empty auditorium, which is predominantly populated by venue and tour staff carting around wires and roadcases. “He must have completely misjudged the end of the stage,” the woman is explaining as she hurries down the aisle, the 118 close at her heels. “They were just rehearsing for the set tonight and then he fell into the orchestra pit. He’s okay, I think, he’s talking and awake and lucid, but I think he’s done something to his ankle.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Bobby says. “We’ll take it from here.”

She nods gratefully, clasping her hands into a worried knot beneath her chin, and steps back, allowing them to all peer over the edge of the orchestra pit.

To Eddie, it just looks like a regular guy on the floor, surrounded by people all still carrying instruments, but from beside him Buck lets out a squeak and Ravi mumbles something that sounds like a prayer for help. Eddie glances at them, but then Bobby is calling down, “LAFD, sir, just hold on for us a little longer,” and is herding them all down staircase on the side of the pit to enter in.

“How are you boys doing?” Hen teases as they descend.

“I think I’m about to die,” Ravi says faintly.

“I heard you praying,” Chimney says. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

“I was blaspheming and hoping God would just kill me.”

Eddie hides a smile. “There’s something kinda wrong with both of you.”

“Okay, funny, Mr Breakdown,” Ravi snits, and Eddie says, mostly on instinct, “LAFD Updates Man, actually.”

Ravi glowers. “I liked you better when you were straight.”

Buck lets out a hysterical giggle.

Eddie’s eyes adjust when they get to the bottom of the stairs. He’s never been one for live theatre—why see people from far away onstage when you could just watch a movie?—but he had definitely misjudged how big orchestra pits are. In his head, they’d always been huge, but this one is small, and crowded—both enough so that there’s really nowhere for Buck to escape to, though Eddie can tell he wants to as they all shoulder their way through what presumably is the band, still holding their instruments and looking worried.

And then—

“I told y’all,” says the man, still on the ground. He looks relatively okay, aside from his ankle, which is twisted at a nasty angle and beginning to go purple. Someone’s elevated it on a chair, and there’s a person behind him helping him sit upright. “You didn’t need to call 911.”

“Were you expecting to play the set with a snapped ankle, Dom?” a lady holding a banjo says to him.

“Well, no, but we could have just driven me. I’m so sorry about the inconvenience,” the man adds to Bobby, at the front of the group, and though he’s not talking to him directly Buck goes a pretty pink all over. “Thank y’all for coming all this way.”

“Not a problem,” Bobby says. “We were in the area.” He nods behind him. “Hen, Chim, can you check his ankle? Eddie, check for any head injuries.

“Cap, yes, Cap,” Chimney says, because he likes to think he’s funny, and then they’re swanning over, Hen and Chimney settling beside his elevated ankle and Eddie crouching next to him, pulling out his penlight.

“How’s your head, sir?” he says. The man turns to look at him, and—yeah, okay, Eddie gets the hype now. He’s more into the stocky guys himself, hence Buck, who is built like a barn, but he can’t deny that this is a beautiful man in front of him, all green eyes and dark hair. He can imagine this dude probably makes a killing on dating apps, especially if he looks at people the way he’s looking at Eddie. Damn, Eddie can’t imagine what he’d be like if he actually turned it on.

“Oh, all good,” the man says. He does a once-over of Eddie, probably verifying that he’s LAFD. “I didn’t hit it when I fell.”

His banjo player sighs somewhere above them. “Yeah, because you landed feet-first like an idiot and crumpled like a Coke can.”

“I’m just going to check your pupils, to be safe,” Eddie says, and flashes the penlight at the man’s eyes. (Or—he’s not really the man, considering Eddie knows who he is, but what does he call him? Gerald Rhinestone? Dom? Just Gerald? He feels as though Gerald Rhinestone must be in all capitals whenever he says it in his head.) The man’s eyes look more than fine, though his pupils are a little dilated. Eddie frowns, putting the penlight down. Maybe it’s just a little dark in here. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Gerald,” the man says, which at least saves Eddie the panic of deciding what to call him in his head. He holds out his hand, even though Eddie hadn’t been introducing himself. “And yours?”

“Uh,” Eddie says. “I’m Eddie.”

He shakes his hand. Gerald holds on for a little long. There is a choking noise behind them.

“Say,” Gerald says, finally. “You look kinda familiar.”

“Just one of those faces, I guess,” Eddie says. “Can you tell me the date?”

Gerald ignores him, squinting. It’s not until his friend holding him up sucks in a breath and says, “Holy shit, are you that Twitter guy?” that he seems to land on where he recognises him from.

And of course, it’s Twitter. It’s always fucking Twitter.

“Yes,” Eddie says, a little resigned. Whichever influencer slid into his DMs to reassure him that the internet’s memory was fleeting and he’d be back to his normal life in a manner of weeks was talking from their ass, because it’s been nearly a year and he’s still getting this sort of shit. (He supposes it doesn’t help that Josh is apparently still milking his likeness all over Twitter for dispatch interaction. Not that he knows this, because he deleted Twitter.) “Can you tell me the date, Gerald?”

“November twelfth,” Gerald says, and his eyes do another deliberate drag down Eddie’s body. It’s not until what definitely sounds like Buck from behind him makes a wheezing sound that Eddie realises, with a sudden start, that he thinks he might be getting hit on. “You’re impressive up close, Mr LAFD Updates.”

Eddie cannot be getting hit on by the man who wrote the song he had his first kiss with Buck with. This can’t really be happening.

“You should see him from far away,” Chimney jokes, from still beside his ankle. “Gets so much more handsome when you can’t see his face properly.”

Eddie is a professional, so he doesn’t flip him off, but then Gerald says, “Mm, I don’t know about that,” and he nearly chokes.

“Uh,” he says.

Thankfully, Bobby, his guardian angel, unknowingly descends on them, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How’s our friend, Eddie?” he says.

Eddie bluescreens for a second longer, Gerald still smirking at him, before he remembers, oh, yeah, technically in a workplace, and snaps back into action. “Doesn’t look like he obtained any head injuries—I think it may just be the ankle that got injured.”

“Good,” Bobby says. To Gerald, he says, “Our paramedics are just splinting your ankle so we can lift you onto a stretcher—you’ll be out of here in no time, sir.”

“Thank you,” Gerald says, though this is more of a leer to Eddie than anything.

To Eddie’s surprise, Bobby doesn’t move away at this; he stays, hand still on Eddie’s shoulder, as if deliberating something. Then finally, he leans forward a little furtively. “I have two firefighters behind me who are big fans,” he says, lowly. “Do you mind terribly if they come say hello? I think they’re both jumping out of their skin.”

Gerald laughs. “Of course. I love meeting fans.” He winks at Eddie, who feels himself traitorously blush a little. (Look, he can’t help it, okay? Gerald Rhinestone is a handsome dude.)

Bobby hasn’t even properly straightened before Buck and Ravi are making beelines, Lucy swaggering behind them, snapping at her gum with her arms folded. Eddie feels Buck’s hand dust across his shoulder, and he reaches up to smooth a hand over it before it then basically pushes him out the way and Buck settles in next to him, eyes huge and wide. “Hi, Mr Rhinestone,” he squeaks. “I’m a huge fan.”

He holds out his hand. Gerald laughs warmly and shakes it. “Nice to meet you,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Buck evidently did not anticipate getting this far, because he just kind of gapes. Eddie magnanimously steps in.

“This is Buck,” he says, and Gerald’s smile gets a little smirkier. “And that’s Ravi.”

“Hi,” Ravi manages, still stood. “I really like your vest.”

Gerald looks down at himself like he’d forgotten what he was wearing. For the first time, Eddie properly registers the pink sparkly waistcoat, unbuttoned to show off a lot of his tanned hairless chest. “Oh, thank you,” he says. “I like your… gear.”

Ravi giggles. (Fucking giggles!) Buck just keeps kinda gaping.

“I was just getting acquainted with your coworker here,” Gerald continues, and oh no. “He was just telling me about his stint as Mr LAFD Updates Man.”

“Oh, I wasn’t,” Eddie says, but it falls on deaf ears.

“I have to say, I’m a big fan,” Gerald says. “I turned on post notifications and everything.”

“Wow,” Ravi says, dreamily.

“That’s nice,” says Eddie.

“And when I saw him today,” Gerald continues, “I almost couldn’t believe it. It’s not every day you meet a celebrity.”

Buck and Ravi are nodding so intently Eddie’s a little afraid for their necks. “Sure isn’t,” Buck agrees, as Ravi says solemnly, “So true.”

Eddie laughs nervously. “Ah, well. I wouldn’t call myself a celebrity.”

“Mm,” Gerald says, still smirking. “Say, Mr LAFD Updates Man, I don’t suppose I could get a photo?”

Eddie—blinks. “Of me?”

“Well, sure,” Gerald agrees easily, “but I was hoping with you.”

Eddie glances at Buck. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for Buck to be looking at him like he’s stupid. “It’s rude to keep someone waiting, Eddie,” he says.

And—okay. Well, then. “Uh, sure,” Eddie says, thrown. He’s had to get good at selfies, unfortunately, considering after the first one was posted online he has been exponentially accosted with more people asking for them, and due to the nature of his job this wouldn’t be the first that’s been taken on a medical scene—his personal favourite was with the girl who had accidentally been shot in the leg with a crossbow—but it is the first that he can see, in his peripheral, Buck and Ravi desperately trying to get in the frame of in the background. Gerald leans a little too close as he takes the picture—Buck’s eyebrow and birthmark makes it in, as does the flick of Ravi’s hair—and then, to Eddie’s surprise, passes the phone to him.

“To put your number in,” he says.

Eddie gapes at him, and then turns to frown at Buck. Buck prods, “Eddie, give the man your number.”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, but does as he’s told. He doesn’t put a name, which maybe was a bad idea, because Gerald does so himself when he passes it back, as Mr LAFD Updates Man and a—Christ alive—eggplant emoji—yeah, after dating Buck for a year Eddie now knows what that means.

“I’ll text you, cowboy,” Gerald says, with a wink.

“…Okay,” Eddie says. This is bizarre. This whole day is bizarre. Buck vibrating next to him is absolutely bizarre.

“Can we get pictures too?” Ravi pipes.

And so Gerald fucking Rhinestone takes photos with both Ravi and Buck, and then also Hen for Karen, and records a video for Ravi’s Twitter followers, and then his manager asks if they want to take a group picture for his social media and Eddie somehow ends up between Buck and Gerald—who is still on the floor with a broken ankle, may he add—and feels like he’s stepped into an alternate dimension.

This is the weirdest fucking day of his life.

Finally, Hen and Chimney help him onto a backboard, and Buck and Chimney carry him out the auditorium and into the ambulance. By now, they’ve garnered company, and Bobby as well as the venue staff are standing shoulder to shoulder trying to keep the fans back. Gerald doesn’t help, waving to them from his backboard like a king on a dais, and then someone shrieks, “That’s Mr LAFD Updates Man!” and Eddie pretty much makes a run for the firetruck.

“Holy shit,” Ravi says, once they’ve all climbed in. “What just happened. I think I blacked out.”

“I cannot believe you got his fucking number,” Lucy says, with a laugh.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Eddie says, and knocks his knee pointedly into Buck’s. Buck is still vibrating a little—it’s kinda adorable, how fucking psyched he is, like a kid with an ice cream, but also Eddie needs some clarity here. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Uh, because Gerald Rhinestone was hitting on you?” Buck says. “Baby, I wouldn’t even be upset if you left me for him.”

Eddie gapes. Fucking gapes. Ravi says, “Word,” from behind his phone, probably live-Tweeting this whole conversation. Eddie wonders if it’s worth it to fall out the truck into moving traffic.

“What?” he says. “Why would I do that?”

He’s dismayed, actually, that Buck would say that, and Buck must notice, because he quickly takes his hand. “Hey, I’m kidding,” he says. “If you left me for him I’d be fucking devastated. Like, the kind of devastation I don’t think I could ever recover from.” The rest of the truck are politely pretending not to hear this. “It’s just… you know. He’s Gerald Rhinestone. I’d let you.”

Eddie is so, so confused. “Let me what?”

“You know. Have sex with him.”

Chimney barks with laughter and Hen elbows him. She is looking so pointedly out the window that her neck is almost at a full one-eighty turn. Eddie repeats, “Have sex with Gerald Rhinestone.”

“I’d be ashamed of you if you didn’t.”

“What the fuck,” Eddie says. “Why would I want to have sex with Gerald Rhinestone?”

Buck owlishly blinks at him. “Did you not see him?”

“I mean—yeah, I was there.”

“He’s hot like burning.”

“I mean, I guess,” Eddie says. “But why would I want to have sex with anyone who wasn’t you?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Lucy mutters, and Chimney starts rolling down the window, probably to make his escape, but all Eddie can focus on is Buck, the way his face softens, eyes growing soppy—but also so in love Eddie aches a little.

“You sweet-talker, you,” Buck says, softly.

“I’m serious.”

“I know, and I’m mad, because if our positions were swapped I probably would have sex with Gerald Rhinestone.” Eddie elbows him. “I’m joking!”

“You’re so not,” Eddie says, and Buck grins at him, kinda guilelessly. Big burly overcoats and seatbelts be damned, Eddie throws an arm around his shoulders, and Buck obligingly tips, head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’d probably have sex with Ryan Reynolds if he asked.”

Buck bites a little at his shoulder. “Asshole,” he says, but his fingers find Eddie’s anyway, link together even when he sits up. They don’t hold hands much at work, at most just a quick squeeze, but here, neither of them let go.

Bobby says, from the front of the truck, “That was information I didn’t need to know about either of you.”

“This whole thing is going on Twitter, by the way,” Ravi says. “So you know.”

Buck squeezes his hand and smiles at him, bright-eyed and pink-cheeked. For the first time, Eddie can’t say he cares.

[dreamingofep]

For the Heart

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: no not at all. This idea popped in my head at midnight the other night and couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Prompt: You are Elvis Presley’s latest girlfriend. You are a new actor in Hollywood and fall head over heels with him on set and your whirlwind romance begins. | [Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sexxx. Cussing, masturbation, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, some spanking, dom!Elvis, unprotected p in v, cream pie, short time skips, inaccurate to Elvis timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors

Do NOT Interact)

| Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Hi guys this is my first fic I’ve written in 8 years so I’m really nervous about it lol. But I really hope you do enjoy and like this story. Please feel free to comment and message me your thoughts I’d love the feedback! Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

April 1967

You were laying in bed wrapped up in blankets, staring a hole into the ceiling. Glancing over at the clock, you see it's 1:30 am and let out a sigh. You know you should be fast asleep by now but you’re restless tonight. Being alone in Elvis’ room when he wasn't here was always so lonely and made this mansion seem so much bigger than it actually was.

The scent of him lingered in the primary suite and surrounded you like a warm blanket. Even when he wasn’t here, you felt his presence in the halls and wished he was here by your side now. You were so accustomed to staying up late hours with how Elvis lived his everyday rock and roll lifestyle. Sleeping all day and partying all night was something your system got used to so when he wasn't around and was shooting his next movie in Hollywood, your body would just naturally stay up missing those nights.

*

It was June of 1965 and you just turned twenty-one a few days ago. That was the day, you broke the news to your parents that you were ready to move to California and pursue your dreams of being an actor. They were stubborn and uncompliant at first, stating all the obvious things like, “you don’t know anyone there!” and “it’s too dangerous for a girl like you!” But you were determined, you were ready for the next step in your life, you couldn’t stay here and rot away. You booked your one-way ticket to Los Angeles International Airport and kissed your parents goodbye and stepped on that plane and knew your life will never be the same.

You would write to your parents every day about how great things were going and how the first time you stepped off the plane, you really felt at home. It was hard for them to let you go and move so far away from home. They thought you would be a Colorado girl forever but you were enthralled by movies and the dazzling lights of Hollywood. You knew from a very early age that was where you belonged. So after graduating high school, you took acting lessons, singing lessons, and anything else to make yourself a dynamic artist. You worked at the local diner working 6 days a week and saved half your tips into a jar you labeled, “for the city of angels.”

You hadn’t had much luck at first and naturally, you felt discouraged. As a new actor in Hollywood, this place scared you. The competition is fierce and the beauty is unmatched.

But of course, just as you’re ready to give up, someone notices you and you book a job. At first, you were getting little magazine jobs, modeling in the background of pictures, or getting background roles on tv shows. Things were really looking up as you were booking more and more consistently and your happiness grew.

At the start of 1966, you are gaining momentum in your career and actually getting speaking roles in tv and film! You can’t believe this is your life and you’re starting to earn a living this way. A few weeks into January, you get a call from your manager, Alan, that you just got booked for a new exciting film but you had to be discreet.

“Well, that’s amazing Alan! Can’t you tell me what it’s for?! You can’t just tell me you have good news but can’t even tell me what it is! I promise not to say a word!” Your heart is racing with anticipation. Could this be my big break? Would this completely change my path?

That’s putting it mildly.

“Okay okay y/n, I’ll tell you but you just can’t say anything yet. So that audition you did a few weeks ago, about the race-car driver and the girls trying to marry him, you got the part of one of the girls and- ”

“Oh my gosh seriously?! No way! This is the biggest speaking role I’ve ever gotten oh my gosh Alan this is amazing! But wait, why do I have to keep this hush-hush?”

Alan laughs, amused by the excitement in your voice, “Well I was trying to get to that but you got excited. Alright, the big part of this is who the lead is… it’s Elvis Presley y/n. You’re going to be in a movie with the Elvis Presley in Spinout!”

You jump up from the sofa and start to scream. You could not believe what he was telling you! All that work and all the times you felt like giving up were worth it.

You had loved Elvis for as long as you could remember. Your father absolutely hated when you would blast his records in the living room. He thought he was a terrible influence and was going to ruin society. You would just laugh at your father and play it over and over again not caring. You loved this man’s voice and the way he moved… you had no idea what was happening to your body but it was like you were mesmerized by his hips and the way he would move on the stage.

The stern conversation you got with your parents when you decided to sneak into the living room to watch him on TV with Sinatra. They were repulsed by that boy on television and catching you of all people watching it was just unbelievable to them. But you couldn’t care less. You really liked it. His energy and charisma was contagious and you could never get enough of him. This man had a way of drawing people in like a moth to a flame, irresistible in every way.

You'll never forget your first day on set and you were racked with nerves just before meeting Elvis. You checked your hair and makeup a million times in the mirror before you heard the knock on your trailer door. You opened the door and all you could see were those sparkling cobalt eyes looking back into yours.

The energy he possessed was so undeniably attractive and you tried to fight it in every way but your heart and your body got in the way of all of that. He greets you with so much kindness and charm you want to faint.

“Hi dear, I'm Elvis Presley, it's a pleasure to meet you. Can't wait to work with you these next few months,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You blush instantly and want to hide your face from him that this was the reaction he got out of you just from a ten second exchange! How the hell were you going to make it through your lines with him?!

He had the southern charm that made you smile whether you wanted to or not and showed so much kindness to everyone on set. But the way he would look at you in particular, was enough to make you a stuttering mess. Those deep blue eyes stared into yours and you knew you were doomed into falling in love with him.

He’d ask you to come and hang out with him in his dressing room between shots and just get to know you more. He made you feel calm, and at peace. He was a great listener and made you feel like he really cared about what you had to say.

That peace got placed on pause when his body touched yours. Whether it was a hug or when he put his hand on your thigh, your heart pounded in your ears and you couldn’t help but want him more than anything. He had so much sexual energy that you couldn't fight and he knew it. You weren’t oblivious that this was the man that millions of women fawned over and threw themselves at him any chance they got. He was no angel but it didn’t bother you too much. It came with the territory and knew there was nothing you could do about it.

In those alone moments, Elvis made you feel like the only girl on this planet and you just loved it. It was like a dance you two had. He’d touch your hand and you’d touch his hand back. He’d brush you hair off your face and you’d reach over and touch his perfect face, pretending he had a crumb on it or something. It never failed to send a thrill through you and you could tell he loved it when you would touch him so gently. The crew could tell he favored giving attention to you and would tease you about it. You would act as if you had no idea what they were talking about but you knew you two had an attraction for each other like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

A month into you being on set with Elvis, one night in his dressing room, he pulls you in close and asks you to be his girlfriend. You smile the biggest smile you’ve ever made in your life and whisper yes. He pulls you into his arms and gives you this deep passionate kiss that makes you melt into him. You’ve never felt so happy.

*

Those beautiful memories of your lover snap you back to reality making you realize it's another night of being by yourself. What you would give to go back a year and revisit those moments together. A tinge of sadness strikes your heart but Elvis was almost done filming his latest picture. He’d be home in 5 days and you could not wait. It had been a long three months since you saw him and you missed him so much.

Being in his arms felt like home and you longed for that. He’d make a point to call you every night and tell you how the day went and ask you what you have been up to. He’d ask you what the latest auditions you’ve gotten and if you’ve booked anything on the horizon. You two would talk for hours, pouring each other's hearts out to one another and longing for the day you get to see one another.

Between juggling your schedule with acting and modeling gigs that would take you all over the country, you also have a boyfriend on the other side of the country filming his movies and trying your best to prioritize each other. It was really hard to have a perfectly balanced life. Not that you’d ever complain, but you knew this was not a normal relationship. You were dating Elvis Presley. The King of rock and roll. There was bound to be some difficulties.

You'd occasionally send him a polaroid of yourself in some scandalous lingerie and hope he wouldn't forget he has a girl at home waiting for him. You knew you were young and he may want someone else to fill that void in his heart but for the meantime, you tried not to think of that.

You missed his lips, and how soft and plump they felt on your skin. How large his hands felt when he was grabbing your hips forward to grind on his hard erection. You missed having your brains fucked out of you anytime you wanted and how he would cuddle you after drifting to a deep sleep together.

Getting up out of bed, you turn on the lamp and go to the sofa across the room and pick up some magazines that were left on the coffee table. You flipped through a fashion one but it couldn’t keep your attention so you went to grab another one. There on the front cover was Elvis’ gorgeous smile. You melt and just wish those gorgeous eyes were looking at yours in real life.

You flip through the page and start reading through the article about him about the latest project and the songs he's going to be recording for the picture. The picture they took for the feature made him look so good. You could swear his face was sculpted by the gods themselves. He was the most perfect-looking man you’ve ever seen and wanted him here, taking care of you in every way imaginable.

You lean back on the sofa and sighed, feeling so needy for his touch and his-

God, what a wreck you've become. You felt ridiculous needing a man this way but you couldn’t help it. This was the longest amount of time you two had spent away from each other and your body was so used to having him any time you wanted. He knew your body like the back of his hand and knew all the ways to get a rise out of you. Each time he would take you, it felt so passionate, so intense, you couldn’t believe that a man could make love to you like this.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to overshadow any logical thoughts. You lift your nightgown up just above your matching panties and start to think of how good Elvis’ hands would feel on you right now. Looking back at the magazine, his eyes burn into yours and your need for him takes over your whole body.

You gently start rubbing your clit over your panties and let out a sigh. Flashbacks from passionate nights that seemed like eons ago come back to you so clearly.

His sexy deep voice whispering in your ear telling you how much he loves you and all the things he wants to do to you. You roll your hips into your fingers putting more pressure on your clit and let out a soft moan. Your wetness starts to pool and your heartbeat starts to rise. “Elvis,” you moan out needing him more than anything right now. The idea of his cock deep in your pussy has you rolling your eyes back and makes you desperate for something inside you.

You push your panties to the side and feel how wet you’ve become and run your index finger up and down your folds. You keep spreading the wetness and you lean your head back ready to slip a finger inside yourself. You start to inch your finger in slowly when you hear a voice behind you.

“Well, hello darlin’.”

Elvis utters under his breath, just a few feet behind the sofa.

Oh shit.

You jump at the sound of his voice completely shocked he’d even be here. Even more embarrassed that he might have walked in on you touching yourself.

Your heart was beating through your chest and couldn't figure out what your next move would be. You quickly straighten out your nightgown and stand up and face him behind the couch.

The sly smile on his face makes you blush and you run around the sofa and jump up and hug him, wrapping your legs around his torso. The feeling of him wrapping you up in his arms and hugging you tight makes you the happiest you’ve felt in months.

He breaks the hug and looks at your face, taking you all in, “I’ve missed you, honey.” He presses his lips onto yours and you feel the passion seeping through. You grab him by the back of the back neck to deepen the kiss and your tongue starts to explore his mouth. You feel a smile start to form on his face.

“Well someone missed me,” he chuckles and sets you back down on the ground.

“Yes of course honey,” you laugh with him, slightly breathless. “I had no idea you were coming home so early! This is the best thing I could have imagined. I’ve missed you so much honey I can’t even begin to tell you.” You reach up and grab his face to give him another kiss, showing him how much you needed him. Elvis takes you by the hand to lead you around the sofa to sit down next to him.

You sit down and feel the wetness that has pooled down to your panties. You breathe in sharply and shift in your seat to not make it too noticeable how uncomfortable you were. Elvis sits next to you and puts his hand on your upper thigh. The coolness of his rings pressing into your soft flesh drives you mad.

He brushes your long blonde hair behind your ear and runs his hand over your back and rests it just above your ass.

“Whatcha been doing while I’ve been gone, baby? Have you been stayin’ good for me?” he looks deep into your eyes and you can’t look away. It’s like he knows every last thought you’ve been having over the last ten minutes. Your breathing starts to pick up again and you give him your best innocent eyes and reach up to touch his face.

“Oh, honey, of course I’ve been good for you. You’re all I’ve been thinking about though honey. Missing your beautiful face.”

“Mmm, me too doll me too. You’re all I think about too…” He trails off and plants a kiss right on your jawline making you take in a sharp breath. He inches his hand further up your thigh and scrunches the fabric of your gown up exposing your panties.

“Now, tell me hon, what were you doing just before I came in…” He puts another kiss on your neck this time, making you fall apart at the seams already. You're so touch deprived you can’t believe how easily you’re coming apart for him.

“Oh nothin’ baby, I was just r-reading some magazines and stuff… that’s all baby. I couldn't sleep. How was your flight over here? Was it ok?” You say, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Flight was fine baby. We can catch up later but right now, I’m just more curious about what you were doing with that magazine with my face on it.” He says slyly, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I was just reading the articles and going through the pictures and was about to try to head to bed again, that’s all dear.” You say trying to not maintain eye contact but his gaze is magnetic and you stay looking at him. You know he can see through your lie and the blood rushes to your face and your ears. His hand is still on your upper thigh and he starts to rub his thumb in slow circles, just inches from your panty line. You shift a bit, needing to move and desperate to make him drop the topic.

“Come on honey, let's go to bed. You must be exhausted after working so much and your long flight over here. What pajamas do you want to wear tonight I'll go grab them.” You start to get up on your feet but feel Elvis’ hands grab your hips, sitting you back down roughly.

He gives a slight chuckle and moves to sit on the edge of the coffee table and faces you.

“I know you’re lying to me, lil mama. Why do you want to lie to me?” He places both of his hands on the top of your thighs and waits for your answer. Slowly he moves his hands to the inner parts of your legs and applies pressure with his thumbs just inches away from your core.

“Honey… no please I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want you to know what I was doing. I have not been good for you.” You whine, leaning in to kiss him again but he leans back and turns his face away from you.

“Uhuh honey, no lyin’ to me,” he says and spreads your legs apart for him. You freeze, so overwhelmed by his bold move. He has never called you out like this and your whole body is on edge. “I know you’ve been lying to me. I saw your head leaned back, fingers in your panties wishing it was me teasing you instead. I just know you’ve been wanting my cock so bad and can’t help touching yourself over the thought.”

“Please baby… stop I can’t… I’m sorry.” You say grabbing onto his hands wanting him to move his hands up higher to touch your throbbing core. He doesn’t move though. He sees what you’re trying to do and is more stubborn than anyone else on this earth. He always gets what he wants and he knows it.

“No, you don’t get to move my hands or have any other part of me until you tell me exactly what you were wanting before I walked in here. You need to show me exactly what you need.” All you can do is shake your head no.

“That’s not the answer I wanted,” he growls in your ear and lifts your night gown off your body. He hooks his finger on the sides of your panties and tears them off your hips leaving you completely exposed. You don’t move. He has never done anything like this and the possessiveness is rolling off of him in heat waves and consuming you whole.

He grabs you by the ankles, bends your legs up, and plants your feet on the sofa spreading you wide. Your heart is pounding and you can’t control the gasps that are coming out of you. He continues to look at you like he can devour you whole and has a tight grip on your ankles, his rings digging into your skin.

”So, you want to be difficult and stubborn hmm? Then I’ll just leave this pussy throbbing and needy for me. I’m not giving in until you show me, honey.” You can’t help but moan in frustration and you want him to help you get what you need. The release you've been craving for months, the one that has been keeping you up at night was ready to explode. And now that he’s here in front of you, you are desperate.

“Baby, please I need you so bad. I want your hands all over me and making me feel so good. I was thinking about all the times you’ve made me cum all over that cock and how you are the only man that can fuck me right. I’ve needed you for months now,” Your hand slowly makes its way to that bundle of nerves, and the feeling of how wet you’ve gotten drives you crazy.

Elvis’ eyes are locked onto you slowly rubbing circles on your clit and moany breaths are slipping out of your lips as you are thankful for the friction and needing some release.

“Mmm yes, honey I like that. Keep touching yourself. Tell me what else you need from me. I promise I’ll give it to you but I need to see it first.” He tightens the grip on your ankles and leans in closer, getting a better look at your dripping cunt.

“Goddamn baby, you are so fucking wet. I could just eat all that cream that’s coming out of you. You look absolutely delicious.” He lets out a sigh and you pick up the pace of your fingers on your clit. The sound of how wet you are is driving him over the edge and you see his dick twitch.

“God Elvis please I need all of you inside me. I want to feel you shoot your hot load deep inside of me. I have been thinkin’ about it for weeks and weeks. Please baby don’t make me beg anymore.” You say moaning louder and louder. He’s still not budging and know your words just aren't going to do the trick.

Slight anxiety runs through you as you've never done this in front of him. Taking a deep breath in, you decide to slip your middle finger inside yourself and throw your head back with the feeling of getting something inside you. It’s not quite as satisfying as what you really need but it helps take care of that need.

You hear Elvis moan, watching you intently. This reaction out of him just makes you pump your finger in and out of yourself at a steady pace. The wet squelching sounds come out of your pussy louder the faster you go. You start to whine and your eyes open, drifting to examine all of Elvis’ reactions to you.

His breathing becomes labored and starts to moan out “oh fuck,” the more you finger yourself. Your eyes continue looking down at him and look at how good he looks in his button up shirt, chest exposed, tailored slacks and down to the blue argyle socks on his feet. The buttons being undone to the middle of his torso made him look irresistible. This bold fashion choice makes you want him so much more. The slightest thing he does or depending on what he’s wearing can make him drip in sexual charisma and it was your weakness. Your eyes go lower and see the erection forming in his pants. Biting your bottom lip, you want him more than ever. It always shocked you how big he really was. It had been a while since you saw him naked and your eyes couldn’t help but stare at how thick and long he was.

You kept staring at that perfect cock and slip a second finger inside you, curling them inside and moan louder loving how it feels.

“E-Elvis, please baby I’m begging you. I need that hard cock inside me. Please, honey, I need you to feel how tight I am for you.” A moan comes out of you that is full of frustration and need.

You can’t keep this going for long because your coil is about to snap. A few more pumps from your fingers and you cum all over your fingers and watch as milky cum pools on the sofa. You gasp for air and feel your pussy clenching your fingers. Elvis can’t tear his eyes off of you, mesmerized by how your pussy is clenching around your fingers. He pulls your fingers out of you and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. He starts walking over to the bed in long, quick strides.

“Woah, honey! What are you doing?! Put me down!” you scream not knowing what he has in store. His hand smacks your ass hard, sending a shock through your entire body.

“This is for being so difficult and stubborn you naughty girl. I could have been inside you ten minutes ago. Could have been cumming around me instead of your little fingers.”

He goes for another spank and this time a moan slips out and he throws you on the bed, your hands catching the fall. You’re left on you hands and knees and feel Elvis’ arm wrap around your torso, stilling you.

Leaning over and pushing away the hair that has fallen in your face, Elvis’ whole presence is commanding the room and you don’t dare to move.

“Tell me mama, are you going to be good for me or going to continue to be a bad girl?” He rubs your ass slowly waiting for the answer.

You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder, “I’ll be good baby I swear,” you pant, waiting anxiously for his next move.

Elvis spanks you again and flips you over in one swift motion. “Mmm, good girl. Now honey, how hard was that? Telling me exactly what you wanted.” His hands trail across your face, drifting further down to your chest and squeezing your breasts. You let out a muffled moan, still waiting to see what he was going to do next. His eyes make their way to your leaking cunt and grunts when his thumb makes contact with your wet throbbing clit. “God, you were so sexy ‘bout to lose my goddamn mind watching you do that to yourself. And all over the sight of me?”

He gets up off the bed and takes off his shirt and throws it on the floor. He’s standing tall, looking absolutely gorgeous at the end of the bed all sun kissed from the California sun. He looks down at his crotch then back up to you. Examining you like prey laid out on the bed.

“Look what you’ve done to me, honey. Made this cock so hard and hungry for you. Are you ready for me? Ready to make you mine again?”

You sit up and continue to look at his erection. You have no words and all you can do is nod.

Unbuttoning his pants, you slowly pull his zipper down. Grabbing the sides of his pants by the waistband, you slip his pants off his hips and watch his cock spring free. A moan comes out of you and can’t help but touch him. The veins protruding on his shaft and how red his tip was, was driving you mad.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, thinking Elvis can't hear you.

“You like what you see honey? See what you've done to me?”

“Mmhm, I should do it more often,” you say coyly and place your hand around his shaft. He looked huge in your small hand and your body shakes in anticipation.

You like the feeling of how warm it is in your palm and want to lick up the precum that is leaking out of his tip. You slowly pull his foreskin back and rub his head, spreading the warm liquid all over him and start to jerk him off slowly. He throws his head back with a sigh and moans the more you move your hand along.

Suddenly, he grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back and arches your body towards him at the edge of the bed. His cock resting between your breasts, his heat burning into your chest. His eyes are so full of lust and power, there’s no way you can resist him.

“Oh, lil mama I’m gonna make you cum over and over for me. I’ve been needing you so bad. Been waking up in the middle of the night with my cock so hard wishing I could put it in this perfect pussy of yours.”

You start begging and clawing at his arms to give you the attention you need. He lets go of your hair and lays you back down on the bed. Picking you up by your hips, Elvis pulls your body to the edge of the bed and rests his cock on top of you stomach. He takes his left hand and grabs both of your wrists and raises them above your head. You’re completely at his mercy and can’t move with how strong he is. Slowly, he starts to jerk himself with his other hand, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, putting more pressure on your clit knowing how it sends you over the edge.

“Are you ready for me lil’ mama? Hmm? Ready to be a good girl for me and take this dick?” he moans, teasing your entrance with just the tip.

“E… please I can’t wait any longer. Please fuck me,” you whine with no ounce of control left in your system.

He lines himself up with you again and slowly pushes himself in you.

The feeling of him stretching you is so overwhelming and you try to claw at the blankets underneath you, needing to release this pain but pleasure that is building up inside of you.

His eyebrow furrows and his mouth makes a delicious O shape and lets out a deep guttural moan. “Goddamn it baby you’re so tight, squeezing me so hard already. It's been too long since I fucked you,” he leans down and kisses you roughly on the mouth.

Your entire body is shuttering from the sensations you are feeling. You want more of him but know your body just isn’t ready for it and Elvis knows to take it slow with you. He pulls out of you and shoves two fingers inside you, curling them and hitting that spot that only he can. You feel like you can cum again but you do everything to try and wait to have him feel it when he's inside of you. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you making you even wetter than you ever thought you could become.

“Mmm yes, baby you’re almost ready for me. You feel so good,” he praises and proceeds to slip in a third finger inside your dripping cunt.

You moan out in ecstasy and start to grind yourself into his fingers, his rings hitting your clit every time you move your hips down to meet the rhythm he has made. He starts to show that crooked smile you love so much and you look down to see his throbbing cock, the tip glistening with your juices.

“Get back inside me baby, please I need it,” you say as you lean your head back in the blankets arching your back slightly showing him how bad you need this. Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you and enters you once again. This time he does side in easier but is still very taught around his girth.

Elvis’ moans fill the suite followed by expletives muttered under his breath. The look in his eyes was pure fire. He could never get enough of you and how you took him so well. He starts to move his hips more, testing out the waters to see what you wanted the most tonight. He puts his free hand underneath the small of your back lifting you up making you arch a bit. Taking on this new angle, it sends you to the heavens. Just when you think that’s as good as it can possibly feel, he bottoms out and fills you completely. He doesn’t move for a while, letting your body adjust to his size. The rhythm he sets is achingly slow but you relish of how great it feels.

He kisses you deeply and moves his mouth to your breasts. He starts sucking on the sides of them knowing how sensitive they can be in those spots. As he continues to suckle welts into your breasts, he starts to move in and out of your pussy with a steadier tempo. With how much stimulation you are receiving, you can’t hold back the moans and the screams that are coming out of your mouth.

Elvis gives your breasts one final suck and pulls away from your upper body and proceeds to fuck you, leaning back a bit as he watches how your pussy consumes his cock whole.

“God baby you look so good. Taking my cock so well even after all this time,” he teases and lifts both of your legs onto his shoulders.

“How does this feel honey? Do you like it when I rearrange your guts? Making this pussy cum all over me hmm?” He moves his hips with more vigor and is hitting your G spot every single time. You groan out in pleasure, needing more time to get more adjusted to the position but love how deep he is. He’s relentless. He keeps pounding into you harder and harder watching you fall apart at the seams.

“Elvis! E-E-Elvis I’m so close oh god please,” you beg over and over like he’s your saving grace. A few more thrusts and you were seeing stars behind your eyelids. You scream his name over and over, unable to control your body or your mind. He tries to keep this pace but your pussy was squeezing him so tight he was starting to lose control and loved how you felt around his cock. You continue to squeeze him, unable to think clearly about anything else.

“Oh fuck yes honey keep cumming all over me. I don’t want you to stop,” he groans over you. The sound of him and his words keep you on your high and you don’t want this to end. You feel completely out of your body and start to shake from so much stimulation.

He’s not done with you and you know it. Elvis squeezes your thighs with his massive hands and uses them as leverage and pounds into you faster, chasing his high you know is coming soon. “Honey, look at me. I want you to cum one more time before I do,” he pants looking down at you in a sexed out daze. You squeeze your eye shut tight, not knowing how much more you can take. You start to protest, “oh God honey I- I-I can't!”

He never takes no for an answer so you knew he wasn’t going to like hearing what you had to say. He only heard a challenge and he loved a challenge.

“Oh, I know you can baby. Fall apart for me again and then I’ll fill you to the brim with my cum.” He spits on his hand and slowly starts rubbing your clit in circles and you can feel the heat in your belly roar. You can’t even look at him anymore, your body feels so weak all you can do is wraith in pleasure on top of the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the covers each time he thrusts into you and rubs your swollen bud.

Elvis’ tempo is becoming more and more erratic and your coil is about to snap again. Applying more pressure to your clit you know that’s it and you see stars once again and it was somehow even more intense than the first one. You scream out once again and hear Elvis moan too.

But something feels different this time. Your orgasm continues but there is so much more pressure you feel in your stomach you don’t understand what is happening. Elvis continues to pound the shit out of you and before you know it, a warm liquid is shooting out of you, spraying the base of Elvis’ cock and his lower tummy.

You have no control over what’s happening. You keep screaming out and feel another large spray come out of you making Elvis growl and moan out your name. “Oh god yes y/n. God you feel so good.”

His hips begin to stutter and you watch as he leans his head back to the ceiling, “Aw hell mama, I’m gonna cum oh fuuuuckk,” he moans and you feel his cock twitch over and over again inside you. Feeling his thick cum spraying your walls and seeing him chase the high he's been waiting to get is the hottest thing you could ever witness. He places his hand up your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he slows his pace and his pulsating dick finally stops.

He pulls out of you, lets go of your wrists that he's been keeping in his grasp, and gets on top of your chest. Both of you breathing erratic and heavy. You are left breathless and completely fucked out of your mind. You have no idea what to say as you realize you have no idea what liquid just came out of you not once, but twice.

Holy shit what was that? Did I just pee on him? Oh god I’m so embarrassed… Could I have squirted? You had heard of stories of people having the most intense orgasm that they can squirt as a result of it. But you never thought you would be able to do it!

Elvis looks up at you, sweat dripping from his brow, and giving you the most sensual smile. You start to get self-conscious and don’t know what to say.

“Honey I- I-... I’m so sorry about that I have no clue what was happening I made you an absolute mess I'm sorry,” you trail off, not wanting to look at the reaction on his face.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh woah woah honey no need to be upset. Why would I be mad at that?” he pulls you onto your side and holds you in your arms. “Baby, that was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. God I could watch that for hours it was so good baby.” You look up at him with a sly smirk and can’t help but giggle. “Really baby? Didn’t make you wish you hadn't come home early?” Elvis smiles that’s boyish grin he always does and grabs you closer. Squeezing you by the ass and makes you look at him as he places his other hand on your jaw.

“Baby you squirting was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And quite frankly, I’m gonna want to make you squirt like that again and again from here on out,” he says grabbing your face and planting a heated kiss on your lips. You knew he was telling the truth and all your insecurity was washed away. You break away and grab his face, “It was the most insane, intense feeling I have ever had, E. I had no clue I could even do that,” you exclaim and feel the smile expanding over your face.

“Me either honey,” he chuckles, “Just another way I can make you a huge mess for me,” he moans into your mouth, going in for another kiss.

“I missed you so much E. This was the greatest surprise I could have ever gotten.” You trail your hands up and down his chest, feeling the warm sweat linger there. This was the most passionate lovemaking you’ve had in ages and you feel like your high off of his dick.

“Come on honey, let's go downstairs and make you something to eat.” He pulls you up by the hand and gets you up off the bed.

“E, I’ve already eaten dinner hours ago. It’s 2:30 in the morning,” you say glancing over at the clock.

“ Well, darlin’...” He pulls you in close, pressing his body to yours feeling the heat roll off of him. “I hate to tell ya, but I am nowhere close to being finished with you. I have so many different ways I want to make you cum for me,” he says seductively, biting his lower lip sending an electric shock wave through your entire system.

“...fuck…” you whisper into his chest, your thoughts begin to race and your heart starts to hammer away in your chest.

“Well, in that case, I think I'll take one of your famous peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches you love so much.” you giggle softly and reach for another kiss.

“Coming right up, baby. I love you so much y/n.” He looks at you and takes you all in.

“I love you too E,” you whisper, hoping that all of this would never end.

He takes you by the hand and leads you to the door, wrapping your robe around your shoulders and helps you put your arms through. He puts his on too and you both sneak down stairs giggling like little school girls.

Sitting at the kitchen table, you take this moment in. Enjoying your little slice of heaven.

Tagging

@burninlovebutler @lindszeppelin @loving-elvis @succsessions

[tacky-jack-with-a-hat]

Well... you have any headcanon about Florida or California by the way?

Oh buddy those are my blorbos...

So you know how Cali canonically has abandonment issues. So does Florida. And I'm not just talking about Spain.

(This became more of an analysis than a hc)

• Some IRL context: the reason people are leaving California in simplest terms is bc the wealthiest celebrities are driving up the costs of living, housing and transportation. But then the people who leave California go to places like Florida and drive up the cost of living and housing. So now families that have lived in Florida for generations are splitting up or leaving Florida the same way people are leaving California for the exact same reasons.

• California is politically and socially aware but not self aware in the slightest.

• Florida however, is either in denial or doesn't want to be perceived as the new California so he doesn't acknowledge that the families he watched grow are now leaving. The only thing he will let out is the bitterness towards tourists who don't actually want to stay with him or the snowbirds that take up homes when they aren't even there most of the year.

• This creates a weird situation between Florida and Cali. On one hand Florida hates him for driving away his locals but on the other hand, California is going through the same shit he is but he can't tell him without thinking he'll be seen just as pathetically needy as California.

• It also forces Florida to sit with the uncomfortable thought of if the same thing is happening in places the Floridians are moving to. Who else is lonely bc there people are being replaced? Does this make him a clone of California? What will happen to the poorest people when there's no more dominos left to fall?

• All he can do is try to distance himself from Cali and pretend it's not happening.

We see him do this in "California joins the table", when Florida gets uncomfortable as Cali describes things in his state that can also clearly apply to Florida (e.g orange and palm trees, disney ect). Florida immediately gets defensive and insults California throughout the episode. It also should be said Ben is a character in his own universe and Florida is canonically upset they moved to Los Angeles.

• On the other side of this: California wants a friend desperately. He only ever sees Austin briefly and he knows that the second closest thing he has to friendship is Florida. But he sabotages himself by convincing that Florida isn't capable of understanding loneliness because he's surrounded by tourists and knows how to call the states. In fact Cali doesn't think any state is capable of understanding how he feels.

• He also makes fun of Florida bc he thinks the peninsula state has tougher skin and is just used to everyone making fun of him anyway but all it does is make Florida want to distance himself further.

• Cali tries to make people think he's smarter than he is so people respect him (fails) but Florida tries to make people think he's dumber than he is so they tolerate him.

• They also have moments where they bond such as them both standing up for the immigrants

• There's also this one moment in Florida man in SoCal that I hope I misinterpreted bc I hate the implications

"Cali: I set a camera up in the bathroom-

Loui: oh you nasty

Florida: I'm in"

FLORIDA WHAT DO YOU THINK IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN?!? I KNOW THAT BEN IS IMPLYING SOMETHING HERE!!! YOU CAN'T HIDE!!!

• I also ship Florida/Beach Cali but I already had a post about that

• Summary: Not like other girls (Cali) vs the popular mean girl mentality (Florida)

Anyway sorry this became more of an analysis than a hc

[typingtess]

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NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch:    “Maybe Today”

The basics:  While Kilbride visits his son, the team works a cold case from 2003.

Written by: Samantha Chasse & Matt Klafter

Samantha Chasse co-wrote “Kill Beale Vol. 1”, wrote “Impostor Syndrome” (one of season 12’s best episodes) and “Murmuration”. 

Matt Klafter co-wrote “Smokescreen Part II”, “A Fait Accompli” and “Hard for the Money”.  Was the sole writer for “Where Loyalties Lie”.

Directed by: Eric A. Pot directed “Resurrection”, “Windfall”, “Traitor”, “Internal Affairs”, “Home is Where the Heart Is”, “Forasteira”, “Reentry”, “Hit List”, “The One Who Got Away”, “Kill Beale Vol 1” (co-written by Chasse), “Fortune Favors the Bold”, “A Fait Accopli” (co-written by Klafter), “Imposter Syndrome” (written by Chasse), “Indentured”, “Sorry for Your Loss” and “Survival of the Fittest”.

Guest stars of note:  Christopher Gorham as Alex Kilbride, Rose Abdoo as Special Agent Daisy Van Zandt, Eva Tamargo as Mrs. Perez, Kevin McCorkle as Jack Baker, Cuyle Carvin as Aaron Baker, Courtney Cunningham as Jen Anderson, Jhey Castles as Melissa Baker, Keenan Henson as Kevin Phillips and Joe Keyes as Taxi Driver.

Our heroes:  Deal with parents and children.

What important things did we learn about: Callen:  Not afraid of strong women. Sam:   Senior Chief, Special Warfare Kensi:  Couldn’t imagine what a mother would feel about a missing child. Deeks:  Working well with LAPD. Fatima:  Listening to old interview cassette tapes in Kilbride’s truck. Rountree:  Not a fan of old case files in moldy, charred boxes. Kilbride:  Finally listening to his son.

What not so important things did we learn about: Callen:  Looking for a Sam’s plus one for the wedding. Sam:    No interest in Callen’s plus one-ing. Kensi:  Wants Rosa to participate in extra circular activities. Deeks:   Wants Rosa to be protected from all types of danger. Fatima:   Office bound. Rountree:   See Fatima. Kilbride:  Spending the night on his son’s couch.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange?  Not a mention.

Who's down with OTP:   Kensi and Deeks have debates over keeping Rosa safe.  Callen is comfortable marrying a confident woman.

Who's down with BrOTP:  Callen is looking for a Sam love connection which is a complete change in roles from the first five seasons.

Fashion review:  Callen wore a midnight blue sweater.  Another long-sleeve black tee for Sam.  Kensi wears a long-sleeve top that has a graduated color scheme that starts white around her shoulders, pink and grey across her chest and black the rest of the way down.  Deeks has a light blue henley on.  Fatima has a thick brown sweater.  Rountree is wearing a black hoodie.  Kilbride is casual with a thick dark blue sweater over a lighter blue plaid button down shirt.

Music:   “Killer” by Phoebe Bridgers plays in a montage near the end of the episode.

Any notable cut scene:  Yes, one, after weeks of nothing.  Driving to Jen Anderson’s, Kensi and Deeks discuss the case moving from a missing persons case to a death.  Kensi is down on local law enforcement for not doing more.  Deeks is a bit more sympathetic.   Missing persons aren’t always missing persons, sometimes people just walk away from their lives.  After a while, the police have other cases to solve.

Kensi hears from Rountree – the local news stations have picked up the story.  Deeks checks his phone – national news, NPR, the BBC are all cover the story.  Kensi and Deeks realize that the killer, who lived 20-years without anyone knowing there was a killing, now knows they are the focus of a national news story.

Quote:  Callen:  “How can we help?” Daisy:  “Stay close by.  Try not to get in the way.  First cold case?” Callen:  “Yeah.” Daisy:  “Couple of virgins. This'll be fun.  I've been working cases since '04.  Solved more of them than the next two agents combined.” Callen:  “I like your modesty.” Daisy:  “Confidence in a woman make you uncomfortable, Agent Callen?” Callen:  “Well, if it did, then I'm about to marry the wrong woman.”

Anything else:  A car is driving down a rural road.  2003 shows up on the screen.  The radio in the car is playing an address by then President George W. Bush about major combat operations ending in Iraq.  A man steps out of the vehicle and puts on some gloves.  Inside the vehicle is a woman wearing a Navy sweatshirt who looks like she’s out cold.   There’s duct tape on her mouth and her hands are bound. 

As the man walks away from the vehicle to use a payphone, the woman is awake and alert.  She takes off the seat belt holding her to the car seat.  She tries to open the car door but the man finished his call and is returning to the vehicle.  Again, playing unconscious, she waits until the man nears the car door.  She opens the door with great force, knocking the man to the ground.  She flees on foot.  She gets the bindings off her hands and removes the tape on her mouth as she runs.  The man starts the car to chase her.  She calls for help as she runs into a wooded area.

In 2024, a car is pulled from a lake.  The license plate and the vehicle are from the 2003 scenes.  A female NCIS agent confirms “it’s hers” and calls for the best NCIS team in the area.

Walking into the office, Kensi and Deeks are talking about Rosa, extracurricular activities and college applications.  Kensi thinks Rosa needs them, Deeks thinks Yale won’t care since you can get into law school there by twirling a baton.  Baton is color guard, Kensi correct Deeks, Rosa is interested in doing gymnastics, Deeks is worried she’ll get hurt.  Kensi lists a number of activities Rosa could join – track, water polo, AV Club – where Deeks has a reason she could get hurt - shin splints, chlorine poisoning (obviously), electrocution.  Kensi tells him to stop.  He is half-joking but he wants her safe,  Kensi says they can’t cover Rosa in bubble wrap.  Deeks is looking more for small packing peanuts.

In Ops, Kensi asks if they have a new case.  Fatima and Rountree explains it is more a like an old one.  Navy Petty Officer Britney Perez, Fatima starts to explain but Kensi thinks the name sounds familiar.  It was – there was a documentary series about Perez recently.  A hiker at Castaic Lake saw a car in the lake – water levels are so low it was easy to see on a trail.  Deeks thinks this may be the one time where climate change is good.  He knows it sounds wrong.  The four talk about bringing Kilbride into the case but Deeks wants Kilbride to spend time with his son.  Callen and Sam on their way to the crime scene.  Kensi asks about next of kin.  Perez had a mother who has not been informed about the car.  Kensi can’t fathom being a mother to a missing child.  She and Deeks are going to see Mrs. Perez, maybe offer some answers.

Walking up to an apartment door, Admiral Kilbride sighs before knocking.  A man in his mid-to-late 40’s answers the door and says hello Dad.  Dad Kilbride replies with just “Alex.”  Inviting his father into the apartment, Alex explains the set-up is temporary, he’s still trying to work things out with his wife Deb.  It is a rather generic one-bedroom apartment with rather generic furniture. 

Kilbride asks where he can hang his coat and hat as Alex pours the two some coffee.  Opening a closet, Kilbride sees it is full of fancy diplomas, an expensive desk name plate.  There is a hook so the hat and jacket go there.  Kilbride asks Alex about work and Alex replies “great.”  He has a new client working on a cryptocurrency exchange.  The silence after that is uncomfortable.

Callen and Sam pull up at the crime scene.  They’re talking about Stacy, Anna’s maid of honor.  Sam is adding drama according to Callen.  The two address Special Agent Daisy Van Zandt, the female agent who supervised the car being removed from the lake.  Callen and Sam are investigating their first cold case  - “a couple of virgins” according to Daisy – so she asks them to stay close but also stay out of the way.

Daisy has been working cold cases in 2004 and has solved twice as many cold cases in her time than the next two agents combined.  Callen admires her modesty.  Daisy asks if confidence in woman worries Callen.  If it does, Callen tells her, he’s going to have a problem with the woman he’s about to marry.  Daisy tells Callen and Sam that the case of Brittney Perez “had my number”.  There’s never been any evidence until now.  An agent calls for Daisy.  The car truck is opened and the skeletal remains of someone are inside.

Calling Kensi and Deeks, Callen says the coroner ID’d the body as Brittney Perez.  Hanging up, he returns to Sam and Daisy.  Kensi and Deeks will be telling Perez’s mother.  Daisy doesn’t envy that task.  Callen asks about the original case agents.  Two local field office agents, Walker and Haskins, had the case originally.  Walker retired to Florida a few years back, Haskins is dead.  Sam asks Daisy what she thought of all this.  “There’s good work, there’s sloppy work and there there’s whatever the hell this was.  It’s no wonder why this case wound up with us.” 

Callen asks about suspects.  There was one suspect – Petty Office Aaron Baker.  A witness said Baker and Perez were arguing outside a bar.  Perez slapped Baker.  Sam wondered about the argument but Daisy doesn’t know what it was about.  Neither does Baker, according to Daisy, who was too drunk to remember according to Walker and Haskins.  They didn’t bother to push him on what he could and couldn’t remember.  He’s third generation Navy.  Callen is stunned. 

When Perez went missing, Baker was home according to his bunkmate.  The two were watching video games all night.  Looking at the truck, Sam asks for a vial.  He found a tooth in the trunk.  Perez’s body is still in the trunk and it is obvious she has all her teeth.  Sam believes Perez fought until the end.  There will be a DNA test and while teeth and bone are really strong for finding DNA, 20-years in the water isn’t a good environment.  Callen and Sam are off to talk to Baker. 

In the boat shed, Kensi and Deeks are comforting and kind to Mrs. Perez.  Mrs. Perez shares photos of Britney stored on her phone.  Britney was strong and smart and funny.  Mrs. Perez explains that she was a single mom.  She and Britney only had each other.  That’s why she never believed the investigators who thought Britney went AWOL, fearing she would be deployed.  Asked if Britney was worried about being deployed, Mrs. Perez said her daughter loved the Navy.  Besides, she would never leave without saying goodbye. 

Before she went missing, Britney was upset and a frazzled.  There was something about her roommate Jen, there was a bad situation.  Britney wouldn’t tell her mother the whole story.  She wanted to protect her mother.  Mrs. Perez tells Kensi and Deeks that she was waiting for this day for the last 20-years.  Now she’d like to have one more day of not knowing that someone killed her daughter.  Grabbing Kensi’s arm, Mrs. Perez asks that they not give up on Britney this time.  Kensi promises.

In Ops, Rountree has been looking into Aaron Baker.  At 18, Baker was arrested for assault and battery, a charge that was pled down to a misdemeanor.  While he got away with that, his DNA is now in the system so it should be easy to match anything that can be retrieved from the tooth.  Fatima is still waiting for the files for the case to be sent – it is taking hours. 

Fatima is also investigating Petty Officer Jen Anderson, Perez’s roommate.  Anderson went AWOL days before Perez disappeared.  Rountree gets a text – the files are downstairs.  Fatima is surprised, her tablet didn’t beep when the files were sent.  The files were sent – physical files.  They are in charred yet damp banker boxes.  Daisy sent a note – the burn marks are from wildfires in 2009, the dampness from flooding in 2015.  Rountree leaves, saying “you’ve got this, right.”  Fatima is not pleased.

Callen and Sam approach a man asking if he’s Aaron Baker.  It’s Jack Baker, Aaron’s dad.  He’s working on a boat in the garage.  Jack Baker explains he’s been living with Aaron and Aaron’s wife Melissa since his house burned down in the Bell Canyon fires.  Aaron’s out and Jack is happy to tell him that NCIS stopped by – why were they stopping by.  When Callen says a cold case from 2003, Jack reacts poorly.  Since the documentary series, the family has gotten late night phone calls, people just showing up at the house, death threats.  Callen is sorry they had to go through that.  Before they leave, Sam fixes a knot on a boat.  Jack is impressed and asks if Sam is Navy.  When Sam says Senior Chief, Special Warfare, Jack is a bit more open.  Since Aaron and Melissa went shopping and will be back soon, Jack’s fine with Callen and Sam waiting inside the house.

Inside the house, Jack is showing some photos he has of his time during Desert Storm.  He was a Chief Petty Officer running the Beachmasters unit.  Aaron and Melissa arrive.  When Callen explains they are from NCIS and it is about Britney Perez, Melissa wants no part of the interview – the family has been through enough.  Callen tells them about Britney’s body being found.  “The sooner we have answers, the sooner this will be over for everyone,” Sam says.  Jack seems supportive of Callen and Sam so Aaron is open to answering questions.

Asked about what he was arguing about with Britney, Aaron doesn’t remember.  Jack is cheerleading for his son during the interview.  Things happened 20-years ago, hard to remember.  Sam asks if Aaron remember his roommate for 20-years ago.  He does – Kevin Phillips and they were friends at the time.  The two haven’t spoken in over a decade.  Before they plan on leaving, Callen asks if Aaron was willing to turn over his dental records.  Melissa puts her foot down – she considers this harassment.  She’s calling a lawyer and if they want his dental records, Callen and Sam need a warrant. 

Leaving the home, both Callen and Sam are sure Aaron remembers more than saying and Melissa knows that too.  They want Rountree to find Kevin Phillips to see what he remembers.  Callen gets a text from Daisy – they found DNA in the tooth.  They don’t need a warrant for Aaron’s dental records, they already have his DNA on file.

Coming down the stairs, Rountree asks how Fatima is doing with the physical files.  About half of the files belong to different cases.  What belongs to this case is either burned or moldy.  She also thinks there is something live in one of the boxes.  Rountree found Jen Anderson, who is living in Sun Valley.  She was arrested for drugs about five years ago and is currently on parole.  Kensi and Deeks are on their way to see her. 

Fatima finds a box of cassette tapes of interviews, amazed at the lack of technical prowess of the original investigators.  Rountree isn’t sure where they would find a cassette player.  Fatima is – Kilbride’s truck is in the carport.  He’s on vacation, probably having the time of his life, according to Rountree.  They can listen to the tapes in Kilbride’s truck.

Not having the time of his life – Kilbride.  Alex is explaining how the coffee he’s serving is from a farmer’s market downtown that has a direct connection with a coffeehouse in Guatemala.  The Admiral doesn’t much care about the coffee.  The Admiral knows what’s going on.  Alex admits he’s back in rehab, sticking with the program and going to meetings.  The Admiral is happy to hear it.  Alex thinks everything is so weird.  Kilbride is willing to go back to the last conversation the two had.  Things are going downhill fast.

When Kilbride complains that things aren’t that easy for him either, Alex asks why Kilbride is even there. Alex realizes “Mom asked you to come.”  Alex is annoyed that his mother couldn’t leave well enough along.  “If you were ‘well enough’ she never would have asked,” Kilbride replies.  He’s angry that Alex was given every opportunity, given anything a person could ask for.  Alex tells his father he didn’t ask for what he’s got now.  Kilbride replies he didn’t turn it down either. 

Exasperated, Alex says he wasn’t born ready to take on the world like Kilbride was.  Kilbride disagrees – the only difference between the two of them was “I didn’t fold up like a cheap suit every time life got hard.”  Imitating his father offering advice like “suck it up” and “take it like a man”, Alex asked if he missed any not helpful pieces of advice.  Pausing a beat, Kilbride tells Alex he’s there to help.  Alex thinks that help is 40-years too late.  “I don’t want your help.  Just go.”  Alex is sure Kilbride has more important work to do.  Grabbing his coat and hat, Kilbride leaves.

In the cold case lab, Callen brings up Emily instead of Stacy, another possible plus one for the wedding.  Callen thinks Emily is a much better fit for the wedding.  Daisy arrives.  The tooth is inconclusive when it comes to a match for Aaron Baker.  The pool of suspects is basically anyone living in Los Angeles in 2003.  Callen asks about forensic genealogy – that’s how they found the Golden State Killer.  Daisy says TV makes that all look too easy.  They would have to build out a family tree, that takes time, and other family members who put in their DNA for genealogy.  But she’ll get her staff working on that.  When Daisy leaves, Sam mentions he really likes Daisy.  Callen wants to know if that’s in a plus-one sort of way.  Rountree calls – he found Kevin Phillips.  Phillips has been working in Long Beach for a masonry firm.  Before that, several years in prison for wire fraud and falsifying records.  Baker’s alibi was from a convicted liar.  And it is a non-violent crime so Phillips’s DNA wouldn’t be in the system.  Callen and Sam want to talk to Phillips.

While Fatima listens to some really bad detective work in Kilbride’s truck, Rountree pretends the Admiral has returned.  Fatima isn’t all that amused.  She updates Rountree on what she’s learned.  Perez spoke to her CO before she disappeared.  The CO on the tape said Perez wanted to report a crime for her roommate but he thought it was just a he said/she said situation.  If they reported every he said/she said situation to NCIS, NCIS would stop taking the base’s calls.  Perez was forced to take matters in her own hands by confronting Baker.  But since she already reported the crime, Baker would have no reason to silence Perez.  Unless she was willing to take her claims to a larger audience.

Continuing his litany of dangerous things for Rosa to stay away from, Deeks has vetoed the Girl Scouts, academic decathlon, choir and ceramics.  “What sort of a manic lets minors around a kiln?” Deeks asks.  At Jen Anderson’s door, Deeks knocks and someone starts shooting through the door.  Kensi goes out back to find Anderson washed all her sheets and they’re all hanging on clothes lines.  A man shoots at Kensi.  She returns fire, hitting him on the leg.  When Deeks joins Kensi in the backyard, they hear something at the back door.  It is Jen Anderson.

The man shooting at Kensi is Anderson’s friend Marcus, “a narcissistic idiot”, who thought Kensi and Deeks were there to arrest him.  Seems he had a lot of drugs with him.  Marcus is going to jail for a long time for drugs and shooting at Federal Agents.  Deeks asks Anderson about Aaron Baker and Britney Perez 20-years ago.   When Anderson asks if Kensi spoke to Baker about “it”, Kensi said they did.  Anderson walks away while Deeks deals with LAPD.

Gently, Kensi pushes Anderson to talk about what happened with Aaron Baker.  They can’t solve Perez’s case without her.  Anderson tells Kensi that Baker “assaulted” her.  Took her life away while his went on without a worry in the world.  Anderson left the Navy.  Perez was the only person who knew what happened.  She was a good friend to Anderson who wouldn’t let Baker walk around free as Anderson was losing her career.  Perez reported the crime against Anderson’s wishes.  Anderson left the day Perez reported the crime.  A few days later, Perez’s disappearance was all over the news.  Anderson didn’t speak to investigators – if they didn’t believe Perez, they weren’t going to believe her.

Kevin Phillips is on the wrong side of the desk in Interrogation.  Aaron Baker may have been Phillips’s best friend but he wouldn’t lie for him.  Sam asks if Phillips is lying for himself.  He swears he had no reason to kill Perez.  Sam sees a way that Philips, knowing that Baker had a Navy family, would protect Baker from the harm caused Perez’s accusations.  Phillips is firm – Baker didn’t kill Perez and he didn’t kill Perez.  Callen asks Phillips to prove it – provide a DNA sample.  Phillips agrees. 

As Callen goes to speak with Daisy, Sam questions Phillip about his reaction to Sam’s Navy-oriented question.  Sam wonders how serious Aaron Baker was about the Navy.  Phillips admits that Baker liked the Navy because it helped his dating life.  When Baker would get blackout drunk – which was all the time – he’d speak about his father.  Jack Baker would bully his son, calling him a failure and a disgrace to the family.  Sam asks if Jack Baker knew about Perez’s accusations.  He did.

Daisy puts the kibosh on a DNA test for Kevin Phillips.  A deeper look into the DNA again a genealogy search matched Aaron Baker – a partial match.  Sam arrives, asking if it a 50% match.  It is.  Daisy would need to see a DNA sample for Jack Baker.  Callen has just the man for the case.

Wearing Artie, Deeks is trash pail diving around the Baker home.  He’s not happy about the assignment.  Kensi is taking photos of Deeks to support the chain of custody.  Under the Abandoned DNA Act, any genetic material left in a public place can be used by law enforcement.   Chanting he has a law degree and loves his job, Deeks is picking through the regular trash.

Jack Baker leaves the home, dropping paint cans and rubber gloves into the recycling pail.  The gloves would have DNA so Deeks goes to retrieve them, muttering all the way.  As Deeks gets into the recycling pail, Jack Baker tries to run Deeks off.  Deeks knocks down the pail, yells “I am Spartacus” and shows Kensi he has the gloves.  Fatima and Rountree listen in to all this.

As Kilbride is Ubering back to the airport, the driver mentions that a tough day can be forgotten by showering and a good night sleep.  Kilbride instead, returns to Alex’s apartment.  Alex asks why Kilbride is there.  Kilbride replies he’s there to do something he should have done years ago.

In the cold cases lab, Daisy confirms to Kensi and Deeks that the DNA on the gloves is a 100% match.  Kensi calls that into Ops – they’ll meet Callen and Sam at the Baker home but Jack Baker is gone.  He left to go to the hardware store – LAPD had him under surveillance – but lost him in the store.  Fatima is trying to track his truck with GPS.  He was at a storage facility in Van Nuys.  Rountree has security cam photos of Jack Baker removing a rifle from his storage unit and putting it in his truck.  Kensi sighs – Jack Baker knows NCIS is coming for him, “and that’s not good,” according to Deeks.

On the freeway, Callen and Sam are trying to find Jack Baker.  He’s going north – to Castaic Lake.  Kensi and Deeks are about 15-minutes behind Callen and Sam.  There was a hit and run by Aaron Baker’s house – with Baker’s BMW.  Kensi and Deeks are going to Aaron Baker’s home to see if Aaron was making a run for it.  Callen and Sam will deal with Jack Baker. 

At Castaic Lake, Sam looks around Jack Baker’s truck – the rifle is gone. 

Kensi and Deeks cut off Aaron Baker, ordering him out of his car.  Saying he doesn’t have time for this, he’s afraid his father is going to hurt himself.  Or something worse. 

On comms, Kensi warns Callen and Sam that Jack Baker may be on a suicide mission.  Callen and Sam realize Jack Baker wants to kill himself but wants Callen and Sam to do the actual killing.  Sam sees Baker and starts approaching him.  When Baker stops, he complains “that bitch” was going to ruin his son’s life.  Sam disagrees – Aaron ruined his own life by his actions.  Baker claims he was doing what any father would do – protect his son.  Again Sam disagrees – Baker killed a woman who was doing the right thing.  Baker promises he won’t die in prison.  He turns his gun on Sam and tries to fire.  Sam shoots Baker.  Looking at the body, Sam realizes Baker had the safety on.

“Great, I miss all the fun,” Daisy says as she pulls up to the crime scene.  She wanted to know how the story ends.  Callen asks if they can send back the file boxes.  The OSP would like the file boxes to be returned.  Asked what she’s going to do now, Daisy has lots of cold cases – she’ll work on them until there are none left.  Callen wonders how many cold cases are there.  She doesn’t keep count.  She’d like Callen and Sam to join her – she could always use another body or two.  Probably phrased wrong. 

As Daisy goes to see what’s going on, Callen gets a text.  Stacey has a date for the wedding but Emily is still looking for a plus one.  Sam is sure Emily can find a date for the wedding.  Callen pushes until Sam relents.  He’d like to get to know Emily – really know her as his plus one.  Maybe Callen, Sam, Anna and Emily can go for a fancy dinner Friday – Callen’s treat.  Then next Friday, pricey sushi – Callen’s treat.  Then there’s a private chef that will cook for couples.  Callen walks way, even threatens to walk home.  Sam is sure his days of fending off plus one offers are done.

Jen Anderson texts Kensi.  She’s going public with her accusations against Aaron Blake.  Maybe her telling the truth will give strength to other victims.  Deeks puts his arms around Kensi.

Mrs. Perez lights a floating candle at Castaic Lake.

Daisy puts the tooth and DNA into an evidence bag.  Putting it all in a freezer where there are thousands of vials of DNA, she says, “one down, hundreds to go.”

In his apartment, Alex explains to his father that his marriage is over.  Kilbride wants to know what can he do for Alex.  “Talking help,” he explains.   Admitting the truth, Alex says he doesn’t have a new client, his firm let him go.  Kilbride already knew.  Alex found talking to his father “nice.”  Alex notes that Kilbride was going to miss his flight – until he realizes that Kilbride already missed the flight.  Kilbride will be sacking out on the couch, enjoying another cup of coffee with his son. 

What head canon can be formed from here:    There are probably two really good episodes here but because the Drona drama has to eat up lots of episodes, the two great storylines were crammed into one good but not great episode. 

There were two really good episodes in this episode but by cutting and pasting them together, there was one good episode instead. 

Cramming the two episodes together, you had a theme of parents and their children.  Fathers – Deeks, Kilbride and Jack Baker – and mothers – Kensi, Mrs. Perez.  Deeks had the easy part – he was playing it for laughs but with his history in the public defenders office, the LAPD and now with NCIS, he knows how badly things can go for young people in the world.  Also knowing how badly things can go for young people in the world is Kilbride.  Kilbride wound up with the career and code in life to live by.  That wasn’t want Alex needed and Kilbride did not have the ability to deal with his issues.  Jack Baker seemingly forced his career on his son who had no interest in the code a man should live by.  So Jack Baker murdered an innocent woman to keep his son’s future bright. 

With Kensi and Mrs. Perez, you have two women who want/wanted their daughters to go out into the world to be the best versions of themselves.  Deeks’s over-the-top worries about Rosa’s safety is undercut by how Britney Perez did all the right things – protected and friend, fought for justice – and spent 20-years drowned in the trunk of her car.

There should have been a solo episode about Britney Perez’s disappearance and one solo episode about Kilbride with his son/Kensi and Deeks dealing with Rosa’s future. 

Loved, loved, loved Daisy.  Memo to the surviving NCIS and the possible new NCIS.  Find something for Daisy to do in either 2024 or in the past with the young Gibbs/young Mike Frank.  This was a program that spent years with limited recurring characters – how great would it have been to have Hetty and Daisy mixing things up in season four.

One good episode that could have been two great hours.

Episode number:   This is episode number 319, the 17th episode of season 14.