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hookhausenschips · 2 months ago

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Episode 2: Under The Neon Lights

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Summary: In Episode 2, Y/N and her friend Zara immerse themselves in the lively F1 paddock in Singapore. There, Y/N meets Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc and shares some playful exchanges with Lando Norris and Max Verstappen. They bond over the adrenaline of underground racing, but when Y/N receives an invitation to a street race that night, she feels drawn back to her roots and opts to leave the F1 excitement behind.

WC: 2k

Warnings: Language, Dangerous Behaviour, Intense Situations, Romantic/Flirtatious Interactions, Class and Culture Differences

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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Later that evening

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and Singapore’s night skyline was lighting up in brilliant neon. The city buzzed with life, energy pulsing through the streets, but none more so than around the Marina Bay Street Circuit. The soft hum of engines in the distance was like a constant reminder of why I was here, and the air crackled with anticipation for the race that Sunday.

I was hanging back near the paddock after exploring a few garages on my own, feeling a little out of place but also oddly curious about this world. My street racing instincts made me analyze every car, every conversation, comparing it to my world back home. Everything here was so… polished. Precise. The opposite of the raw, gritty thrill of the streets. But damn if the engineering didn’t fascinate me. I couldn’t help but respect the sheer mastery behind these machines.

Just as I was contemplating heading back to the VIP lounge for the evening, Zara appeared, her tall figure striding confidently through the paddock.

“There you are, Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you,” she called, a wide grin spreading across her face.

I grinned back, pushing myself off the barrier I’d been leaning on. “Was just getting my bearings. This place is… different.”

Zara chuckled, nodding knowingly. “Yeah, it can feel a bit stiff compared to the streets. But once you’re in, it’s pretty wild. Come on, I promised you a proper tour of the garages, didn’t I?”

“Thought you forgot about me for a second there,” I teased, falling in step beside her.

“As if I could. You're the only street racer crazy enough to walk into an F1 paddock like you own it,” Zara shot back with a wink.

We weaved through the paddock, Zara pointing out different garage entrances and dropping names of team members she’d met over the years. It was surreal being so close to the heart of the action, even if I wasn’t completely sold on the whole F1 scene. The exclusivity and the hype felt so distant from what I knew. But at the same time, the adrenaline pumping through the air wasn’t that different from the streets back home.

“Did you get a good look at any of the cars earlier?” Zara asked, slowing as we approached another garage.

“I checked out a couple, but I wouldn’t mind seeing more,” I admitted. “The tech’s insane. It’s like… everything’s stripped down to pure speed. I get why people lose their minds over these things.”

Zara smiled. “I knew you’d appreciate it. These engineers live and breathe for every millisecond. Come on, let’s check out one more garage before things get too busy.”

We were about to head toward the Red Bull garage when suddenly, someone stepped into my path. I wasn’t paying attention, caught in conversation with Zara, and I collided into a solid chest.

“Whoa, easy there!” a voice chuckled, steadying me by my arms.

I looked up, and my heart did a double take. Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver that Zara had mentioned on some occasions. The Charles Leclerc. His green eyes sparkled under the dim paddock lights, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t let go immediately, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Sorry about that,” I said, quickly stepping back and shrugging off his grip. “Didn’t see you.”

“No harm done,” Charles replied smoothly, his Monegasque accent wrapping around the words. “You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t remember seeing you around.”

I gave him a once-over, keeping my expression neutral. “Just passing through. VIP guest for the weekend. You?”

Charles chuckled at my dry response, clearly amused. “I guess you could say I’m here every year,” he said with a wink. “Charles Leclerc. Ferrari.”

“I know who you are,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “The whole world knows who you are.”

“Ah, so you’re a fan then?” He leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying the banter.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I shot back, smirking. “I’m here for the cars, not the celebrities.”

Zara, standing beside me, stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the exchange.

Charles, however, wasn’t deterred by my lack of awe. If anything, it seemed to pique his interest. “Well, I’ll have to make sure you leave Singapore with a better impression of us drivers, then,” he said smoothly, flashing a smile that probably made half the paddock swoon.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. “Good luck with that.”

Before he could respond, Zara tugged on my arm. “Come on, Y/N, we’ve got more to see. You can let Charles try his luck another time.”

Charles chuckled, giving me a slow, lingering glance as Zara led me away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t deny the flicker of amusement that crossed my face as we walked away.

“That was… something,” Zara said once we were out of earshot.

“Was it?” I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “He’s just like every other guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to the world.”

Zara laughed. “Charles can be charming when he wants to be. Looks like he was laying it on thick for you.”

“He’ll have to try harder if he wants to impress me,” I said with a grin. “Let’s go see the damn cars already.”

---

Later that night, after Zara had to leave for a meeting with some motorsports people, I wandered back to the garages on my own. I wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet, and the hum of the engineers working late on the cars was like a siren’s call.

I found myself at one of the garages, watching an engineer tweak something on a Red Bull car. The precision and care they took with every adjustment were insane. I couldn’t help but think about how different it was from my world, where we often fixed our cars on the fly, piecing things together with whatever we had on hand.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see a guy, maybe in his early twenties, standing next to me. He had messy brown curls and bright blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. His boyish grin practically screamed trouble, and he looked like the kind of guy who didn’t take things too seriously. He was casually leaning against a wall, his arms folded across his chest as he watched me with amusement.

“I guess you could say that,” I replied, tilting my head. “Though I’m more used to doing this in the back alleys with fewer people watching.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Street racing, huh?”

“Something like that,” I said, watching as the engineer made another adjustment to the car. “You’d be surprised how similar it is. Different tools, but the heart of it’s the same.”

The guy grinned wider. “Yeah? Maybe I should come check it out sometime. Could use some tips for when I’m not behind the wheel of an F1 car.”

I chuckled. “You wouldn’t last a minute in my world. Too… corporate for the streets.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Give me some credit. I can handle myself.”

Before I could respond, another voice cut in. “Trust me, he couldn’t.”

I turned to see a taller guy approaching, his posture exuding a quiet intensity. He had sharp features, dark blond hair, and piercing blue eyes that studied me like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve. He wore a subtle smirk, like he was used to people underestimating him, and there was something about him that screamed competitive.

The guy with the curly hair looked between us, laughing. “Oh great, now I’ve got backup.”

“Backup?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow at the new guy. “You think you could handle it?”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening just a fraction. “Maybe. Depends on the stakes.”

The tension between us was palpable, but not in a bad way. This guy was definitely sizing me up, trying to figure out what made me tick. It was clear he was used to being in control, but he wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge. I wasn’t either.

“Well,” I said, crossing my arms, meeting his intense gaze, “if you’re ever looking for a real race, let me know.”

The new guy grinned, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The guy with the curly hair laughed, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got two drivers to impress now, Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow, finally realizing I didn’t know either of their names. “And you are?”

The curly-haired guy flashed me a charming grin. “Lando. Lando Norris.”

“And I’m Max,” the other guy said, his voice steady and confident. “Max Verstappen.”

I shrugged, smirking at both of them. “I’m not here to impress anyone. Just here for the cars.”

Max’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer before he nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. “Fair enough.”

As the night deepened and the paddock began to quiet down, I found myself smiling. I wasn’t here for them. I wasn’t here for anything but the love of racing and the thrill of being in this world. But if they thought they could charm me or impress me, they were in for a surprise.

The streets were where I belonged, but I could play in their world for a while, just to see how it felt.

As I stood between Max and Lando, the night was cooling down, but the energy in the paddock was still electric. We were casually chatting about racing—well, they were, mostly. I was just soaking it all in, adding a comment here and there when something caught my interest. Max was explaining some technical detail about cornering in wet conditions when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I glanced down, the screen lighting up with a message that had my heart immediately picking up speed.

“Race tonight. Few hours. You in?”

It was from one of my street racing contacts. The kind of text that made me forget where I was for a moment, pulling me right back to what felt like my real life. The pulse of the streets. The thrill of an illegal race, the adrenaline, the danger. I’d come to Singapore for F1, but now, the familiar rush of street racing was calling me, and it was a pull I wasn’t sure I could ignore.

Lando noticed the shift in my expression. “Everything okay?”

I locked my phone and slipped it back into my pocket, meeting his curious gaze. “Yeah, just… something came up.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing I was hiding something. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who ‘just something came up’ applies to.”

I laughed softly. “You’d be surprised.”

Lando leaned in a bit, looking intrigued. “What is it? Sounds like something fun.”

I hesitated for a second. This was my world, not theirs. They had their pristine tracks and multi-million-dollar teams backing them. Street racing wasn’t just dangerous; it was raw, illegal, and lived in the shadows. Telling them about it felt like breaking some kind of unspoken rule. But at the same time, part of me was curious how they’d react.

“Let’s just say there’s a race happening tonight,” I said slowly, testing their reactions.

Max’s eyes sharpened, his posture shifting slightly. “A race? Here? What kind?”

“The kind you don’t advertise,” I replied with a smirk. “A street race.”

Lando’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Like… an underground race?”

“Exactly like that,” I confirmed, watching their expressions closely.

Max seemed to consider this, his usual calm demeanor shifting just a little. “You race in those often?”

I shrugged casually. “It’s where I come from. It’s what I do. Street racing’s a whole different game than this.” I gestured to the glitzy F1 surroundings. “But the adrenaline? The speed? It’s the same.”

Lando, always the curious one, leaned in closer, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you racing tonight?”

I met his gaze, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. “Thinking about it.”

Max crossed his arms, his expression unreadable but clearly interested. “Why not just race here on the track? Why risk it in the streets?”

I smirked, looking from Max to Lando. “You guys have the luxury of controlled environments, state-of-the-art technology, teams with backup plans, safety nets. In street racing, it’s just you, your car, and the road. No guarantees. No room for mistakes. And no rules.”

Lando whistled, clearly impressed. “Sounds wild.”

“You have no idea,” I replied, a familiar rush of adrenaline creeping into my veins at the thought of hitting the streets again.

Max narrowed his eyes slightly, watching me closely. “You ever think about going pro instead of in the streets?”

I shook my head, the answer coming easily. “Never. The streets are where I belong. It’s unpredictable. Real. There’s no comparison.”

There was a beat of silence as both Max and Lando absorbed what I’d said. I could see the gears turning in their heads, trying to wrap their minds around a world that was so different from theirs.

Max finally spoke, his tone thoughtful. “Sounds like you live for that kind of chaos.”

I met his gaze head-on, unflinching. “I live for the freedom. Pros are incredible, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about the streets… it’s addictive. You don’t have to answer to anyone, don’t have to play by anyone else’s rules.”

Lando grinned, clearly itching to learn more. “So… can we come watch?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t think this scene is your style, Norris.”

Lando pouted in mock disappointment. “Come on, I can handle a bit of chaos.”

Max, on the other hand, looked more serious, his intense gaze still focused on me. “You sure it’s safe?”

I smiled, the rush of anticipation bubbling under my skin. “It’s never safe. That’s the whole point.”

Another buzz from my phone made me glance down again. Time was ticking. If I was going to make the race, I needed to leave soon. But standing here with two of the biggest names in F1, something struck me—this weird, unexpected overlap between their world and mine. Maybe they didn’t get it, but they were curious. And in some strange way, that made me feel… seen.

I looked back up at them, a grin spreading across my face. “I’ve gotta go. Race is starting soon.”

Lando’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “So, what? You just… show up and race?”

“Pretty much,” I said, turning to leave. “Wish me luck.”

Max stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he wanted to say something else. “Good luck, Y/N.”

I gave them a quick nod, feeling the adrenaline already building in my chest. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away, disappearing into the paddock lights. My pulse was already pounding, my mind switching gears from the clean, controlled world of F1 back to the gritty, dangerous streets where I belonged.

As I made my way toward the exit, I could already hear the low roar of engines in the distance. The night wasn’t over yet, and neither was the thrill. The streets were calling. And I was more than ready to answer.

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misstwisted · 4 months ago

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ALRIGHT I JUST FINISHED TRAP AND I LOST MY FUCKINGN M I N D *spoiler warning of course*

YALL

Y A L L

I WAS DOING EVERYTHING TO KEEP MYSWLF FROM GOING APESHIT. TRAP WAS N O T WHAT I WAS EXPECTING (IN A WONDERFUL WAY). THAT WAS AMAZING. I JUST GOT OUT THE THEATER AND I STILL HAVENT PROCESSED IT FULLY.

FOR SOME CONTEXT/BACKSTORY, I WAS OBSESSING OVER THIS MOVIE FOR WEEKS. I WAS TALKING ABOUT IT TO WHOEVER LISTENED. MY BOY YOU KNOW THAT MEME WHERE THAT PERSON WAS LIKE “I’m sorry for the person I’ll become when I watch this?” DAWG THAT WAS WHAT I WAS FEELING LIKE

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY BUT ILL TRY TO FRAME MY THOUGHTS THE BEST I CAN IN THIS

IT WAS INSANE. IT FELT LIKE WHIPLASH GOING FROM THESE CUTE MOMENTS OF A FATHER AND DAUGHTER AT A CONCERT MEANWHILE HE WREAKS HAVOC TO FUCKING CHAOS.

IT FELT LIKE THE MOVIE WAS UNRAVELING THE MORE I WATCHED IT. IT WAS ALSO SURPRISINGLY FUNNY.

I GOTTA BE HONEST, I LOVE COOPER. I WENT IN KNOWING I WAS GONNA LIKE HIM TO FEELING GUILT AND SHAME FOR BEING HAPPY HE ESCAPED. HE WAS SUCH A SILLY GUY FOR A SERIAL KILLER AND I WAS SO CURIOUS TO SEE WHERE HIS CRIMINAL ANTICS WOULD GO. I WAS HOOKED TO THAT SCREEN.

BEUH I WAS CONVINCED FOR A SECOND COOPER COULD TELEPORT BECAUSE HOW????? HOW WAS HE ABLE TO ESCAOE THAT CAR. IS HE ALSO A MOTHERFUCKING ESCAPE ARTIST ON THE SIDE BECAUSE I WOULDNT BE SURPRISED. I’m glad the genre of “serial killing men with mommy issues” is still going strong. I love how he genuinely cares for his kids. He’s now apart of my mental list of evil characters who are still better than my dad. Honestly if he didn’t over react he could’ve left with his daughter without any grief 😭. Like dawg just walk out the back door like you planned.

SPEAKING OF SURPRISE I WAS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED AT THE PERFORMANCES, ESPECIALLY JOSH. WHEN I WATCHED THE TRAILERS I IMAGINED HE’D DO PRETTY GOOD, BUT HE BLEW ME AWAY. I CANT BELIEVE THIS WHOLE MOVIE TURNED ME INTO A NEW JOSH HARTNETT FAN. I WAS STRAIGHT UP LIKE “DUDE SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN AN OSCAR”

ALSO THAT SCENE WITH KID CUDI MADE ME CACKLE I LOVE HIM JUST CASUALLY FLIRTING WITH COOPER “MURDEROUS DILF” ADAMS IN FRONT OF HIS DAUGHTER BECAUSE LIKE SAME. And I love that cooper isn’t freaked out by it, he literally looks like this has happened to him a million times.

I think this movie changed me in a weird way and I might wreak havoc for the next couple months on this blog with content with it because oml I’m so glad I enjoyed it. Josh Hartnett I haven’t known you/followed you through your career for long but everything about this role you did was perfect and I’m sure your fans are just as proud of you as I am. I made a damn bracelet about you and everything.

honestly I still don’t know if I’ve said everything I needed/wanted to say about this movie yet so PLEASE people talk to me about this movie I’m begginggggg. I’m so glad I kept a positive mind about this film. M NIGHT I LOVE YOU THANK YOU.

but now I have a weird feeling of lost, like, I wanted to see this movie so bad and now I did and it’s over. And next on my theater watch is the crow remake and now I’m like “fuck, now I’m gonna watch a movie I’m gonna HATE.”

also whoever decided to have Josh take his shirt off in the hottest way in the movie for no reason and also put it in the trailer…:

Also I’d like to report that movie theater popcorn still makes me feel sick BUT I KEEP COMING BACK TO IT.

#Trap 2024 #trap movie #josh hartnett #cooper adams #Btw these guys in the movie theater kept burping and these other teenagers kept talking and I wanted to die #Also why was cooper kinda throwing it back in that one scene 😭#The one where they were dancing on stage

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curlytheintrovert · 2 years ago

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My Favorite Papa Joel Moments (Pt. 3):

🦠 I personally adore how when they were under fire from the sniper, Ellie is actually worried about Joel for the first time. His response to be almost annoyed, you-don’t-have-to-worry-about-that type attitude is as dad as it gets. But equally “Do you trust me?” is so important. Joel wants her to feel like she can, and in a way shows his first steps to trusting her in return.

🦠 The. Infected. Scene. Joel sniping from the house is one of my, if not my top, favorite moments from the show. How he’s so protective and panicked for Ellie from start to finish. I was UNABLE to look away from the screen. Every face he made in this scene just made you feel his fear, determination and focus so damn much. Can we appreciate how super humanly expressive our boi Pedro’s face is?! But especially when the little girl clicker got in the car with Ellie. Joel never looked more terrified then in that moment. You quickly understood how much he’s grown to care for her. It’s so moving😭

🦠I loved the silent communication between Ellie and Joel during the scene too. She goes for the car, he instantly reads her intentions. She flashes him a look, for cover and permission to help Sam and Henry, he nods. They trust and love each other so much already and the depth of their bond is shining here.

🦠 When Ellie bursts out the bedroom with an infected Sam on her tail, the way Joel springs into action is insane. How when Ellie screams for him, screams his name, Joel instantaneously tries to go to her like he can’t help it. And the look on his face when Henry stops him…it’s so heartbreaking. Like why won’t you let me hug my girl? Can we just have a round of applause for Pedro freaking Pascal?! I can’t even.

#curlystloumetas #joel the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie and joel #tlou show #tlou hbo #joel tlou #tloudaily #i know i’m a dork #tlounetwork #the last of us #tlou #im obsessed #cordyceps #papajoel

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yjano · 2 years ago

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Who I am now?

Part 10.

Pairing: Jake x Mc.

Genre: Angst, comedy, dark romance.

Warnings: Strong language, angst scenes. 18+ content can be found.

Words: 7.8k

Author's note: This story contains mature topics and is not fully related to the duskwood game. A different parallel with different personalities. Thank you everyone for following and liking this! lly.♡

•

Jake focus.

I woke up a few hours later feeling like shit. I sighed trying to wake my body up. My head throbbed, and my heavy eyes and throat were painfully dry and scratchy as if someone had decided to shove balls of rough tissue down my esophagus whilst I was sleeping. My limbs were weak and unresponsive when I tried to lift an arm into the air.

Immense pain rang throughout my temples when I attempted to lift my eyelids to gather my surroundings and find Mc, but the ridiculously horrible sensation of a jackhammer beating the backs of my eyeballs made me lay reluctantly still with my eyes shut tight.

"Okay, honey. I think he's waking up now." I heard the female voice and soon enough I felt her touch my forehead with soft fabric and warm steady fingers. It's not Mc. Who the hell is she?

"The bleeding has stopped and I already dressed his wound. What we should do now? Call the police?" The female removed her hands from me.

"Let's wait till he will wake up and confirm the situation first." The male spoke from afar.

I'd like to open my eyes and question their identity and lastly ask for a godamn glass of water but my body refused to listen to me...

"Rest a little more and you'll be up and running in no time." The female whispered faintly. I heard the door click shut and then there was silence. I tried to force my body to start moving, but I couldn't move. So I waited for another bout of sleep to hit me. Perhaps I'd be refreshed enough after sleeping to open my damn eyes, search for Mc and run away from the unknown people.

I woke up no longer feeling so dead. Yeah my forehead still was hurting and my throat was dry but now I can move my limbs and open my eyes. Blinking away my hazy sight, I focused on the girl in front of me, who was sitting on a stool, flipping through a textbook with a frown. I frowned at the sight, lifting my head to get a better look at the girl.

"Who the hell are you?" I rasped with my throat and mouth insanely dry.

The girl snapped her head up to my words. She wordlessly reached over to brush careful fingers over my bandaged forehead, assessing the damage behind it. I watched her with confusion.

What's going on? Where am I? who is this? And where the hell is Mc?

I noticed my surroundings. I was in a tiny single bedroom, the room completely engorged in plants and the color blue. Every item in this room was either blue or white.

"You must be confused. Right?" The girl hummed, pulling away from me and sitting back down on the stool she handed me a glass of warm water from off the bedside table and a couple of painkillers. I didn't reply to her instead I nodded in agreement before chugging down the water and pills.

"I and my husband found you and your girlfriend under our car." She said with her tone more questioning than certain. I frowned a little more.

Under a car? Girlfriend? What the hell is going on?

"You were bleeding pretty badly and your girlfriend was crying, saying that some guys were trying to hurt you. She told us they were running after you with baseball bats and you took a hit from one." The girl explained, her eyes widening a little in awe. "She tried to hide you two under our car which can I say is an awesome idea." She smiled.

I stayed silent, trying to process the vague memory of being hit over the head by that outdated thug. I remembered the hazy figure of Mc holding my hand under the car whilst muffling her cries. I stiffened at the sudden memory recall.

"At first we thought you were bad people and we were gonna call the police." My head shot up at the girl's words. My wound was ringing with pain at the sudden harsh movement. "But we thought you needed medical treatment first so we took you to our apartment. Your girlfriend was hesitant about taking you to a hospital." She explained, pausing for a second before suddenly gasping loudly.

"Oh! I'm Hayley and my husband is the doctor."

I looked around the room exhausted, blatantly disregarding the girl's introduction. My eyes searched for Mc instead.

"Where's the girl who was with me?"

"Your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend." I snapped my gaze at the girl.

"She's not? Oh, that's surprising." She blinked. "I just thought you were because of the state she was in-"

The state she was in? What state? Is she injured?

"Is she hurt?"

"Oh no, look to your side. She's right there." The girl smiled warmly. I followed her instructions and sure enough, she was by my side, sitting on a plastic chair by the bed with her legs tucked into her chest. She was sleeping uncomfortably with her head resting against the cool wall. She was wearing the surgical mask over her face, hiding her identity. Making me breathe out in relief.

The girl wouldn't recognize Mc as the missing girl talked about by every news station in Duskwood. I also noticed the dried blood staining her fingers, crimson embedding itself beneath her manicured nails.

A faint memory emerged in my head. A memory of Mc begging me to wake up, crying incredibly hard whilst shaking my shoulders earnestly in hopes of bringing me back to consciousness. I stared at Mc's sleeping form as the memory of her crying replayed several times in my head.

"Now that we confirmed that you're awake and okay and your girlfriend- excuse me, your friend is okay, shall we run some tests to check your sight?"

"No, that's not necessary," I answered quickly, breaking away from the spell Mc had put me in. "I'm in a rush and I have to leave right now," I stated, pushing away the duvet covers.

"Please stay in bed. Any sudden movement will no doubt make you-"

As soon as I stepped onto the floor, my knees collapsed in, dragging me down back to the bed. I brought my other arm to my head, wincing at the intense pain courting throughout my injured head.

The girl quickly arranged my pillows and duvet around me whilst telling me to take it easy for a couple of hours. I rolled my eyes and completely ignored her warnings. The pain in my forehead was too much for me, I couldn't concentrate on anything she was saying.

Minutes later, Hayley moved toward the door, saying something about letting me rest for an hour and then contacting the police to come to see me.

Like hell, I'm gonna stay long enough for that. I'll leave as soon as the painkillers will start working. I will wake up Mc and leave this birdy place. I turned my head as slowly as possible to see Mc sleeping quietly, chest falling and rising as she was breathing in and out.

Be rational, Jake. There's no way you can move in this condition.

With a loud groan, I tilted my head back to rest on the stacked pillows. I closed my eyes helplessly before groaning again. I felt something stirring by my side.

"JD?" Mc whispered, her voice timid. My eyes flickered open to see the plain white ceiling above me. I turned my head to face her again. Mc hurriedly took an intake of air when my eyes landed on her.

"Are you okay?" She asked, slowly disentangling herself and sitting up in her chair whilst playing with her fingers. For some unknown reason, she refused to meet my gaze. I regarded her silently whilst wondering why is she acting so jittery and weird.

"Yeah, I'm good." I tiredly stated. Mc just nodded blankly.

"Mc." Mc suddenly flinched, causing me to furrow my brows a little. "What the hell are you so freaked out about?" Her eyes widened at my words.

"What?? I'm not freaked out!" She squealed out, her voice breaking halfway. I sighed, looking at her unimpressed.

"Mc, just tell me, or I will-"

"It's about the man you-"

"Killed?" I raised an eyebrow when Mc stiffened as if it was not the thing she was freaked out about the most.

"What? Are you scared of me now?" I questioned, cocking my head and chuckling humourlessly. She didn't reply, instead, she was playing with her fingers nervously. I sat up slightly whilst never breaking eye contact with Mc. I leaned forward the slightest bit in her direction.

"It was either us or him. I chose him. Would you have rather been the one dead?" I questioned her genuinely, rummaging through my pockets to look for something. Mc said nothing, just watched me with unease. She hates me now. I'm sure of that. I ignored the lump forming in my throat.

"Whatever, I don't care what you think of me." I lied to her again. I shrugged my shoulders, bringing out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from my back jeans pocket and a lighter. Lighting up my cigarette and placed the thin tube between my lips, breathing in the relaxing fumes through my mouth. I reluctantly pulled the cigarette away to spew white clouds from my lips

Mc looked away from me and towards the door, looking longingly at the door with her big eyes. I lifted my eyes from the cigarette to see Mc lowering her head, fidgeting with her blood-stained hands.

Whilst smoking, I reveled in the worried expression imprinted on her face. I feel bad. I feel so fucking upset and annoyed by my actions. Lex was right. My plan was so fucked up. But there's no turning back, right? Either way, I will end up seeing her leave me.

I sighed silently breathing in and out the cigarette's toxic ingredients. Fuck what do I do to make her feel less uncomfortable?

"Mc, let's play that game of yours," I said abruptly, breaking the awkward stony silence. Mc suddenly looked up at me with glazed eyes.

"What game?"

"That game where you ask a shit ton of questions and want answers."

"Oh."

"I will ask then. What's your favorite song? Or genre?" I asked randomly, whilst questioning my actions.

What are you doing, Jake? You're supposed to let her go not attract her closer.

"I have a lot of favorite songs. But right now a-at this moment, I like put it on me by matt." She gulped, looking down and avoiding eye contact with me."What about you?"

I thought for a second before answering. "I like any kind of song. But if we're talking about picking one then. I'd choose renegade by Aaryan." She nodded in agreement.

"Do you have a pet?" She asked with her tone still timid.

"No," I answered bluntly, looking at her. "What about you?"

"Me too, but I hope in the future I will able to adopt a puppy." She smiled a little. I felt less bad the more Mc smiled and relaxed in my presence. I was glad to see her perfect smile.

"Do you do sports?"

Mc wrinkled her nose a little at my question. "I'm not made for sports. I feel like I'd get scared by the ball bunching up to my face. What about you?"

"I do boxing. I think you could've guessed so." I shrugged, unknowingly flexing my fighting skills. She nodded, averting her gaze from me.

"Red or yellow?"

"Red all the way."

She hummed in agreement as she was playing with her fingers.

"Summer, winter, autumn, or spring?"

"I like summer the most. Because you can spend a lot of time at the beach and do the most things in summer." Mc beamed acting less uneasy by the passing second. I marveled at how easy it was to make her relax and smile in my presence. Although how the hell did we go from talking about dead bodies to which season is our favorite? I cleared my throat.

"I like spring. The weather's not too cold, not too hot, and-"

Mc focus.

Whilst Jake answered my question. I stared at him. I felt angry, very angry but he managed to calm me down. But the truth is I want to find out why is he doing all of this. Two can play his wicked game. I can pretend to not know who he is. But now when the truth is finally revealed I can't help but melt every time he looks at me. The way he talks to me. He was right in front of me. And everything did make sense after everything that happened. Yet I still had one question unanswered.

"Mc?"

"Huh?"

"It's your turn to ask a question," Jake mumbled, stubbing out his lit cigarette on his cigarette packet before effortlessly throwing the bent tube into a dustbin nearby.

Just ask him, Mc. Don't be a pussy.

"Are you and Lex dating?" I asked, fearing his answer. What if he will say yes? I gulped my saliva, looking up to see Jake watching me with the risen eyebrow. I felt unease filling my body again.

Fuck, that was so weird of you, Mc. He doesn't know that you know about his identity.

"Lex and I aren't dating, where did you get that idea from?" He finally asked, frowning.

Of course, he said ye- wait they're not... dating?

"I saw you two, last night though," I mumbled before internally dying all over again. If he said they aren't dating, then they're not. Maybe they're friends who just like to kiss?? Why are you digging into so much? Yes, Jake confessed to you and you did too. But you two didn't make it official. Jake frowned for a second longer before raising an eyebrow again.

"Oh. She mistook me for my brother. They used to date. She was drunk and out of her senses. We're not together. We're just friends." Jake repeated, clarifying my thoughts once again.

"Why did you ask?" He added, causing me to bristle slightly.

"I was just curious." I speedily answered. Jake regarded me for a split second before looking away, busying himself with pushing his lighter and cigarettes back into his pocket.

"We're not together."

They're not together?

They're not together!

Lex was drunk! Of course, why didn't I think about that before? That's why Jake looked so uncomfortable. Everything makes sense now.

"Oh." I breathed out, something that'd previously cracked, refixed itself inside of my chest.

"Why do you look like you just hit the lottery?" Jake bluntly asked, picking at the lint sticking to the duvet, bored.

"What?"

"What?" Jake blinked slowly, looking at me.

"Nothing," I said hurriedly.

"I said-"

Both I and Jake turned our heads to face the door when soft footsteps approached behind it. I heard Hayley talking on the phone as she was approaching the room.

"Mc, there's chloroform and cloth in my backpack. Front pocket." Jake murmured in a hushed tone whilst staring at the bedroom door, waiting for Hayley to open the door and walk in.

"Oh, that's cool," I mumbled, still fazed by the whole Lex was drunk and accidentally kissed Jake's deal.

"Mc," Jake warned, looking purposefully at me. I slowly blinked, feeling the realization hitting in.

"You want to knock her out? Can't we just say thanks and leave? That girl has done so much for us!" I gasped quietly. Why the hell does he want to knock everyone out? I need to figure out what's going on in his head for him to change this way.

"Hey, would you rather if I pulled out the gun?" He rolled his eyes at me.

"Okay, okay," I mumbled, warily eyeing Jake's backpack sitting at the side of the bed. I leaned over and unzipped the front pocket, revealing a small blue-tinted bottle and a dry cloth just before the girl walked in.

"Tip some of it on the cloth and wait for her to have her back on you and then put it to her mouth and nose," Jake whispered whilst Hayley walked in, carrying her textbook and going to the closet, huffing.

"Wait, what?" I breathed, alarmed, "You want me to do it?"

"Yes, Mc. Now shut up." Jake hissed as Hayley turned round to face him.

"You feeling better now? Hopefully, the painkillers are starting to work."

"Yeah," Jake murmured.

"Great, I will just check you up." Hayley moved toward Jake's side. Her back was turned to me when she was bending down to check Jake's wound. She was completely unaware of me looking stuck behind her, holding a damp cloth in my hand. Jake caught my eyes and motioned for me to do it.

I mouthed "Do I really have to do it?" He just nodded solemnly. I furrowed my brows and stood up. Maybe I stood up a little too quickly because I managed to knock the plastic chair over, causing Hayley to turn around to look at me with big eyes.

"Oh oops, Sorry." I laughed sheepishly, ignoring the way Jake was glaring at me from over her shoulder. "Please, continue." The girl laughed and nodded, turning away. I took a deep breath to relax my body. Fuck if it wasn't Jake I would've run back to my friends.

"It's okay, I do that all the time. I'm clumsy." She hummed, looking at Jake.

"Oh really? Haha." I laughed uncertainly. "Me too. Uh, thank you for everything you've done, by the way. I'm truly thankful." I started, feeling the guilt eating me alive.

"No worries. I'm glad that I could be of help." She replied professionally as she prodded Jake.

"You've helped us out so much and I'm so sorry to do this." Hayley suddenly turned around with confusion written all over her face.

"What? What do you mea-"

I winced and suddenly slapped the wet cloth over her mouth and nose, making sure to fill her airways with the chemically stained cloth. Immediately, an angered girl subconsciously took a sharp breath, inhaling the fumes that render her unconscious a mere few seconds later. Her eyes closed slowly, and she dropped to the floor. My mouth dropped at her body which had fallen to the floor with a small thud.

"Oh, my god."

"Well done, Mc." Jake hummed dryly. "Pass me my bag, and let's leave this shithole-"

"Oh my god, I killed her!" I whisper shouted, dropping to my knees and staring at the unconscious girl.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Jake muttered, pushing himself off the bed. He gritted his teeth when he bent down to pick his backpack up. "She's not dead, it's chloroform remember? She's gonna be awake in half an hour." Jake scoffed.

"Oh," I mumbled, looking at the girl and then at Jake. "Okay then," I replied uncertainly.

"Come on, Mc." Jake sighed, dragging me to his feet and making me stumble towards the door. "We have to leave now." He pushed the door open and stepped into a nice simple and small living room. He walked us to the door and unlocked the door carefully, we walked outside the apartment. Jake and I passed through the yard without attracting any unwanted attention. Or so we thought.

"Hey, what are you doing outside our yard? Aren't you meant to be at the hospital by now?" A man in his thirties yelled.

"For fuck sake," Jake grunted, dashing away from the yard and running away in the opposite direction of the man. I noticed Jake struggling as I was holding his hand. Still holding his hand, I looked around for help whilst trying to regain a normal breathing rate.

My eyes landed on an unlocked bike leaning up against the red brick wall of their house. It was one of those bikes which you can use to bunk people with or tie items too. I let go of Jake's hand, reached for the bicycle, and slipped myself onto the bicycle seat. With a grin on my face, I turned to Jake.

"Jake!" The pained Jake looked up with a grimace on his face, to see me balancing on a bike, with a grin on display. "Climb on!" I beamed, ringing the bell. Jake looked over his shoulder to look at the man. He gazed at me again and shook his head in disbelief, climbing onto the carrier. Back to back with me.

He should be lucky that I found out about him being Jake or else he'd had to struggle on his own. There was a radio taped to the front of the bike with several strips of black duct tape, hanging securely in place. I switched on the radio with a grin and turned up the volume of some song before starting to pedal, propelling the bike forward and away from the angry man.

Jake sitting on the carrier with his backpack in his hands, waved his fingers mockingly at the man, who seemed to slow down upon seeing the two of us cycling away on someone's bicycle with a radio.

I was pedaling casually into a park of some sort, humming along to the recognizable lyrics blurting out from the radio whilst enjoying the sun's warm rays beating down on my bare arms.

My posture was relaxed. The weather was way too nice to have a frown etched into your features, so I was smiling to myself, cycling down the park, enjoying the calm ride.

Lex and Jake aren't dating.

The thought slid into my mind again for the millionth time and I smiled harder each time, my cheeks were tinting pink this time. Get yourself together, Mc. He can't suspect you of knowing the truth or else you will not find the truth behind his actions.

Despite my commandeering thoughts, the smile didn't drop from my face as I was cycling harder the pure joy inside of me propelling me to go further down the dirt path and ride over the small bumps in the ground with Jake behind me on the carrier, groaning quietly at my sudden speed

"Fucking hell, Mc. Are you trying to kill me?" I just laughed in response.

After cycling for a few more minutes, I started slowing down minute by minute. I felt my limbs hurting after cycling so fast.

"Mc, stop the bike."

"What?" I asked confused, swerving the bike to the side of the road, and pulling the brakes to stop I looked at Iake hopping off the carrier and walking around to me, motioning for me to get off. All sweaty, I weakly climbed off, reluctantly letting Jake sit on the seat before rounding the back to sit tiredly on the carrier. Jake started to pedal in silence.

"Where are we going?" I breathed out, still trying to regain my breath.

"Did you eat anything?" He suddenly questioned, ignoring my question as he was pedaling calmly down the road.

"No." I groaned when my stomach whined in protest at that very second.

"Then we're going somewhere to grab food."

Jake focus.

A while later, Mc was sitting with legs crossed on a bench. She dug a frail plastic spoon into the small tub of melting mangoes flavor ice cream I had bought from the nearest supermarket.

She lifted a big scoop of mangoes flavor cream to her mouth and frowned when the immense amount of ice cream collided with her teeth.

I tried to ignore her and instead I used my phone whilst distractedly digging a plastic fork into the ice cream sitting between us on the bench. They had no more spoons and gave me a damn plastic fork. I furrowed my brows with concentration, fiddling with my phone and hurriedly typing out a message one-handedly I pressed the 'send?' button and switched my phone off.

Swallowing the spoonful I managed to scoop and looked out at the scenery before my eyes, with the stolen bike lying on the ground by our feet. We were on a bench, staring out at a river whilst eating into a tub of mangoes ice cream with shitty plastic cutlery. The river in front of us was mesmerizing.

The water seemed rocky today. The river calmed the painful tension residing in my stiff shoulders and head. Feeling the sun against my cheeks and loving the sound of the sea rushing to meet my ears.

I was feeling good for once. I tilted my head back slightly, noticing Mc hunched over in her seat with her hand pressed against her mouth. She was struggling to contain all the ice cream sitting in her mouth. Her eyebrows were drawn together, clearly distressed at the trouble she was facing. I stopped eating my ice cream, staring at her behavior.

"What the fuck, Mc."

"Too cold." Mc managed to whine before forcing herself to swallow the ice cream. Suddenly she lowered her head to her knees and dug her fingers into her skull, clutching her head.

"What now?" I asked exasperated but slightly amused.

"Brain freeze." She groaned, massaging her head.

"Eat slowly. It's not a race." I scolded with an amused smile. She's so damn stupid but so damn pretty and genuine. I recalled the moments when we used to chat, trying to find Hannah but not forgetting to have mini little chats too.

I smiled remembering us dancing in the cold rain or her writing a sincere sorry note for stealing someone's motorcycle, and for some reason, crying for me when I was injured. I didn't deserve her tears.

I shook off my thoughts, watching her shovel more ice cream into her parted mouth. My eyes zoned into Mc's hand which she was holding the spoon. They were still colored deep red at the fingertips, blood now dried and peeling. The guilt washed over all the happy memories and I quickly looked away.

"You should wash your hands, Mc."

She looked down at her hands at my words. In the corner of my eyes, I noticed her body turning rigid at the sight.

"Y-yeah. I should." She swallowed, placing her spoon in the tub. She looked out at the sea, with her shaky hands fisting and resting on her lap. A heavy silence settled between us. But a second later, I cleared my throat to break the silence.

"Mc," Mc quickly looked up alerted. "Why did you stay with me when I was unconscious? You could've left or asked that girl to help you contact the police. Why didn't you?" I asked quietly, staring at the river. It took a few seconds for her to answer.

"Because you were hurt. I can't just leave you unconscious and run away." She mumbled, nudging the ground's gravel with the tip of her boot. "You know Jake once said to never run away from problems and to face them head-on, and...I just needed to help you out." She shrugged. Fuck me and my mouth for teaching her things. Now they're turning against me.

I stayed silent, avoiding eye contact with her. Mc, on the other hand, was looking right at me and smiled softly.

"I think I will go wash my hands now. Wanna come with me?" She hummed, although she was the one who asked yet she didn't wait and wandered down to the edge of the river. I watched her bending down onto her haunches and running her fingertips over the water.

Her facial expression? Unreadable, since her back was facing me. I already knew that Mc was smiling but still wanted to see it with my own eyes. I heaved myself up from my seat and walked closer to her, stopping just a few meters back and watching her run her hands through the river waters.

"Woah, The water's so warm!" Mc exclaimed, noticing my presence behind her. She turned to smile blindingly, with a wide grin on display. I couldn't help but flash a smile back at her before dropping it quickly, stunned at my reaction.

Jake. Get a grip on yourself.

Mc focus.

I didn't fail to spot it. Did Jake really smile at me just then? I blinked surprised and turned around to face the river water, blushing a little. Dragging my fingers through warm water. A tiny voice in the back of my head spoke up again.

'Make him smile again. It looks good on his face, and suits him better than that frown.'

I agreed with myself looking down at the water swirling by my hand. I smiled before curling my palm, gathering a little liquid in my palm, and lifting it. Turning around slowly with a grin, I flung the small amount of water at an unsuspecting Jake who fiddled with his water bottle, splashing him right on the cheek.

Jake was splattered with incredulity because of the water in his mouth. I laughed cupping my cheeks and watching the scene unfurl before me.

"What the fuck was that for?" A pissed Jake questioned with water dripping from his nose and chin as he was glaring at me. I laughed again just much louder now.

"You should smile sometimes, rEd eYe." I mockingly said in between bouts of laughter. I didn't realize that Jake walked closer to me until I heard a near crunch of gravel underfoot. I stopped laughing immediately, noticing him standing above me with a wicked smile on his face.

"When I said smile, I didn't mean smile in an im-gonna-kill-you way," I mumbled uneasily, shuffling away on my haunches. Jake bent down at the same time and was still smiling scarily, keeping eye contact with me. He suddenly reached his empty water bottle under water and lifted it back up threateningly.

"Shit-" I cursed, catching on and widening my eyes I hurriedly climbed back to my feet, turning around and running away on the sand, close by to the edge of the river.

"You can't do that, that's unfair!"

"Life is unfair, Mc!" Jake called out from behind me with laughter in his voice. I laughed hearing Jake's boots hitting the sand close behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Jake running to catch up with me with a full water bottle in hand, dripping, and a cute grin on his face as he was chasing me down the river.

I nearly swooned at the sight of such an adorable smile. But I can't do that not when I'm racing from a life-or-death situation. So I looked forward and pushed myself to run faster down the river. Just a minute later I staggeringly stopped, bending over and wheezing whilst pleading for Jake's mercy with a smile on my face.

Jake was looking like a starved tiger closing in on a particularly tasty-looking prey, he slowly crowded me with a wide victorious smile.

"Mc, you asked for this," He said simply, grabbing my wrist before lifting the full bottle to my head and swiftly flipping its contents over my hair. I squealed, trying to get out of Jake's hold but it was futile. Jake didn't let go until the water bottle was empty and my upper half was thoroughly drenched. Jake was laughing hard at my state when he pulled away.

I could be any emotion right now. But at this moment I felt awe instead. Awe at how indescribably cute Jake's laugh was

God, there goes my heart. Fuck.

Jake focus.

The sudden blare of the phone ringtone sounds broke my and Mc's conjoined laughter. With a grin on my face, I swiped at the screen, answering the device.

It was Nymos.

Still laughing slightly, I brought my phone to my ear. "Yeah, Nym?"

"Fucking Jake you idiot. I checked the CCTV of one the clubs and guess who had caught sight of you firing a gun at someone? And fucking right now I received CCTV shots of you killing some low-status gang leader. What the fuck you up to?"

The laughter slowly drained from me once I heard Nymo's angry voice.

"Nym, I can explain-"

"Tell me later, not on the phone. Just know that I've covered your ass and you owe me a huge one." Nymos grunted. "Just let her go as soon as possible. I don't want to go into hiding just because you keep fucking up things because of her." He muttered, abruptly cutting the call. Leaving me stony-faced and irritated with my actions.

I sighed, sliding my phone back into my jacket pocket, and looked up to see a still-smiling Mc. She was wringing her now see-through shirt out.

"Mc, we gotta go. Move." I ordered bluntly, any remnants of the laughter and smile disappeared into thin air. I marched onward, feeling her reluctantly following along.

"Did something happen?" She asked, padding after me.

"No. We're just taking too long. We have to get moving." I replied with a tone devoid of any telltale feelings.

Mc focus.

We were having so much fun. What happened? I silently questioned Jake's back as he was walking back up to our stolen bicycle.

With my shirt still damp and not able to dry from the disappearing sun rays, I shivered in the cool air of the evening, rubbing my palms up and down my upper arms, trying to cause some friction to warm myself up.

I wandered after a marching Jake who peddled ahead, one hand on the bicycle steering it, the other casually slipping into his front jeans pocket. I stared at Jake's broad back, leather jacket fitting snugly, and his baseball cap tugged low to hide his face.

His features was giving a sort of mysterious vibe to him. Suddenly Jake looked over his shoulder, catching me off guard. He looked unimpressed as he stilled his movements and waited for me to catch up, tapping his foot against the concrete. I hurriedly jogged to meet up with him.

"Sorry." I breathed out, standing beside him. Jake stayed silently and started moving. I turned to see him slipping off the jacket and holding it out in my direction. I blinked in confusion. Is he giving me his jacket?

"Are you gonna take it or not?" Jake questioned. I took it quickly before he could make any other comment, and placed it carefully over my shoulders. Immediately I felt a familiar whiff of faint cologne and mint cigarettes. The only scent that calmed me down.

Suddenly feeling a lot bubblier, I smiled at Jake who was already starting to walk again, oblivious to the way I look at him with a happy smile on my face. As the sun set down. I walked alongside Jake in comfortable silence.

Night followed and we found a room at a dingy motel. A building that doesn't get many visitors and due to this fact the nice owners of the motel lowered their price and allowed us to take the largest room.

It was a pretty grotty place. Dents litter the pale pink walls and the carpet beneath our feet was rough and scratchy. Nevertheless, I felt grateful for the owner's kindness. I entered the room with a plastic bag of pot noodles swinging in my hand. Jake followed in after me, grappling with a few cans of sprite, trying not to shake them too much.

Fifteen minutes later, after silently snacking on noodles and downing cans of cool sprite whilst watching old cartoons on the dusty television, I was ready to get into bed. I rustled under the stiff bed covers, trying to get comfortable with the scratchy sheets rubbing against my arms whilst Jake made his bed on a grubby couch,

Once he finished, Jake turned around and cleaned up the mess we had made when we were eating dinner. I looked at the white ceiling whilst Jake brushed his teeth in the tiny bathroom. I turned onto my side to face a grotty wall full of scratches, hearing the sound of water running from the bathroom, hitting the ceramic sink loudly. I listened to the sound and slowly drifted to sleep.

I was back at the car park.

But this time the car park is in complete disuse. No one car was parked, and no black jeep or vehicle was in sight. I was standing all alone in the middle of a large abandoned car park.

Through the darkness, I peered all around me, trying to find someone. Jake, my friends, Lex, or anyone.

"Jake, where are you?" I called out, spinning around on the balls of my feet, looking everywhere around and trying to find someone recognizable.

"There's no one here," I whispered under my breath, fear wracking through my body as I stopped spinning, coming to a standstill as the thought settled into my head. I spoke too soon.

"Kill me!" Someone called out behind me. I turned around sharply to see the dead thug looking not so dead, kneeling on the ground in front of me. His stained teeth were on display in a wide grin.

"Please kill me!" He cried, mockingly. I clutched on my shirt, looking at him feeling my body freezing at the spot.

"You killed me before. Kill me again. Come on, Mc. Kill me. It was so easy, wasn't it?"

I gasped, stumbling back in pure fear when the man climbed to his feet, swaying dangerously close to my body. The man grinned at my reaction.

"I-I didn't kill y-you." I stuttered, stepping back with unsteady feet.

"But you did, Mc. You let Jake kill me and you didn't say a word, you just looked away!" The thug exclaimed hysterically, taking a step forward in my direction. "You even forgot about me so easily!"

"I didn't want you to die but you were gonna kill us-" Before I could finish my sentence, I turned on my heels and ran as fast as I could away from the now-screaming thug. I wiped my tears, pulling my shirt sleeve away to see small bloody streaks staining white.

I stopped running abruptly when I noticed the streams moving. I watched the way the thin streak of blood run up my sleeve, to my shoulder, and down to my chest. Stopping exactly where Jake had shot the bullet into the thug's chest. I gasped in fear, looking up from my shirt to see Jake standing a good meter away with a gun in his outstretched hand, aimed directly at my chest with that cute smile that I adored on his face...

I woke up, feeling tears running down my face, my heartbeat was rapid. My hair stuck to my forehead with sweat, and my clothes were damped. I quickly looked down at my shirt sleeve to see no streams of blood staining it.

It was just a dream. Just a dream. I chanted inside my head. No dead person is coming to haunt you. It was just a dream.

I tried to calm my insane breathing rate, looking around the room. I was in the now dimly lit motel room with Jake near me, sleeping soundly on the couch. I run a shaky hand through my sticky hair. Just a crazy dream. Nothing's wrong.

Who am I kidding? Everything's wrong. I let Jake kill that guy.

The hand running through my hair comes to a stop at my fringe. I gripped my fringe tightly in between my fingers and tugged hard, frustrated. You need to come back to reality, Mc. You need to tell your friends you're alive. You need to tell them to stop the reports. Because you're safe. Jake wouldn't do that to me, he would never hurt me. He went to the mine instead of me. He would never fire a bullet at me, right?

The last thought stopped me from tugging my hair, I dropped my hand listlessly to my lap and looked over at Jake who was sleeping with his back turned to him.

I need to tell them about Jake.

I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand and gingerly slid out of bed, climbing out of the sweat-stained sheets and I walked towards a sleeping Jake.

I gulped hard, rounding the couch and standing over a shirtless Jake. I darted my gaze around any spot Jake might have stored the key. I spotted something glinting under his pillows. Maybe the room's key?

With my breath caught in the back of my throat, I outstretched my arm carefully flattening a shaky palm against Jake's cool cheek. Biting my lower lip, I gently pushed his head slightly to the side.

I tried to reach the glinting object, moving as quietly as possible. But before I could reach for the key under the pillow, a hand enclosed around my wrist, tugging me hard forwards, onto Jake's chest. I squealed with panic. I tried to push myself off but Jake who seemed to have woken up held my wrist tightly and effortlessly flipped himself around so I was on the couch beneath him with my hands pinned above my head, completely defenseless.

I struggled under his body, trying hard not to cry in front of him because of the nightmare. But tears stung my eyes and before I knew it, hot tears were streaming down the corners of my eyes once again, sliding down my cheeks.

"Trying to escape?" What looks like disappointment flickered on Jake's face for a split second, but then it was hurriedly replaced by stony anger. He glared down at me with a dark gaze. His grip tightened around my wrists.

"Here I was, thinking that maybe you decided to stop the damn escape attempts but no. You're still adamant about leaving right?" Jake growled, glaring down at me.

"You waited this long to make me feel less tense and then decided to leave that was your plan right?"

I shook my head, crying too hard to answer him properly. My struggling turned slack, knowing it was futile to resist. Between cries, I managed to gasp out.

"No, you were going to kill me! You were going to kill me like you killed that guy!" I sobbed, looking at him blurry. "You did it in my dream and now you're gonna do it in real life!" I sobbed out, closing my eyes tightly.

Jake focus.

"Mc, I'm not going to kill yo-"

"You're a liar!" Mc yelled, suddenly catching me off guard.

"I'm. Not. Lying." I breathed, punctuating my words and lowering my head closer to a frightened Mc. "I am just trying to figure out something." I gritted out.

"You're still the world's biggest liar! You told me we'd stick together but you're just gonna dump me off the second you get a chance to!" She screamed, her cheeks turning scarlet. I stiffened at the words 'stick together' she remembered that?

Mc seemed to have felt my stiffening as she looked at me, narrowing her wet eyes with tears still streaming down her face.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, JD."

I stared at her, this was a completely different side of Mc. A side I'd never seen before. I didn't know how to deal with it. She said something about a bad dream, right?

When Nymos used to have bad dreams, you used to grab ahold of him and not let him go until he stopped crying and calmed down. So, what? Cuddle her until her fears go away? Forget it, Jake. She hates you.

I sighed, loosening my grip on Mc's wrists and pulling her upward at the same time as I shuffled back onto the couch. I hauled a shivering Mc up and firmly seated her on my lap, curling an arm around her waist and hesitantly placing my other hand on the lower back of her head with my fingers interlacing with her hair.

I swallowed hard, holding onto Mc's body firmly when she started to struggle out of my hold, crying hard again. Mc slapped my biceps, whacking me with her clenched fists. She yelled accusations, crying uncontrollably. I silently endured her assaults and held her close, waiting for the storm swirling inside her to cool.

A couple of minutes later, Mc slumped her head against my shoulder and let her arms limply fall to her sides. Her loud cries turned to sniffs and the previous quietness of the room was slightly restored.

"Have you calmed down now?" I ventured out. A few seconds passed before Mc whispered out almost inaudibly.

"You can't- you can't do this. You're not allowed to do this to me."

"I know," I murmured into Mc's hair, "But you wouldn't have calmed down and stopped screaming if I haven't done it," I muttered, patting the small Mc's back awkwardly, trying to maintain her calmness. She didn't say anything, just rested her forehead on my arm.

"Mc, listen to me, okay? I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. So get the idea of me shooting you dead out of your head. It's not happening."

"And as for that promise of sticking together. I promise to stick together with you until it's necessary for one of us to part ways. Until then, let's try not to kill each other and escape, hm?" I hummed, casually placing my chin over her head. I can't let her go and I was sure about it after whatever just happened.

Mc raised her hand to her cheeks and messily wiped the tears, mumbling a soft

"Yeah."

"Now, about this dream. Do you wanna talk about it?"

I was sitting on the stained couch with Mc burrowing into my side and sleeping. She softly murmured in her sleep, with my now numb hand enclosed around her waist. She'd fallen asleep after murmuring sentences describing her nightmare. Sentences I couldn't quite catch but knew it was something about the dead thug and me killing her. I didn't think much about it. It's natural to feel fucking scared and have nightmares after seeing a murder take place before your eyes.

When Mc was crying about me killing her and breaking our promise. I felt hurt. I felt betrayed when she wanted to leave and I felt like pure shit when she cried into my shoulder.

I fell in love with her from the moment I saw the real her. The courageous girl who never gave up. Even when everyone treated her like a suspect she stayed to help them. It was dumb of me to think of this plan of letting go of her. But now there's no turning back. Not when Richy's is out there, seeking for Mc. He wanted her. He wanted Mc to come into the mine and burn together with him. He was crazy obsessed with her, not because she tried to save Hannah but because he was smitten and I will not allow anything bad to happen to her when he was out there somewhere with my ex.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #jake x mc #mc and jake #duskwood family #duskwood fandom #duskwood fanfiction

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vintagepresley · 1 year ago

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Okay so ima give my little review on Rebel without a cause since i’ve never actually seen it until today, and before anyone comes at me this is how i feel not you, anyways so. Starting off it’s lowkey quite boring I won’t lie, i found it hard to understand really what was going on besides James’s character being drunk and a troubled kid but besides that the opening scene was wayyy too long for my taste.

Anyhow through to the middle ish of the movie it starts picking up but i still found it quite uninteresting, i mean the scenes of barley any dialogue for minutes?!? i was just like please fill up the goddamn silence because I can’t even.

I’ve never been a big fan of Natalie Wood but she was alright in this, her opening scene being her sobbing proved she could at least act well but there was some parts of her character that made me want to smack her in the damn head for being so dumb.

It does start getting interesting when the whole car race and the cliff scene starts and then the rest of it from there is definitely better then the first half. For a cult classic 50’s movie i was expecting a lot more from it in the aspects of cars and plot and stuff since sooo many people love this movie to death. I also realised that Grease maybe made one to many small hints at RWAC.

Seeing Nick Adams’s small part in this did make me laugh because if you know why, you know why girl 😉

All in all it was okay, definitely way more hyped then what it’s worth but I understand why so many people loved James Dean. He has the looks, the charisma, and all in all he really can act (i still have yet to watch east of eden and giant.) and i can see why Elvis loved his acting so much.

I found myself wondering if Elvis had done a better job in King Creole then James in Rebel without a cause purely because i though James had the talent and the acting skills but the script was a little lousy and the dubbing of some of the actors lines not matching with their lips drove me a little insane. Elvis was given a script especially written for James Dean, but obviously took it over due to James’s horrible death and i think he did a really really good job in King Creole as Danny Fisher.

To finish off it wasn’t a bad movie, not as good as i was expecting, but it was wonderful getting to finally see James Dean’s acting abilities which were nothing short of outstanding. Elvis i see you man, i see you.

Ahhh thank you for this! I’ve never seen it which is a shock because I love old movies. But I know people do hype it up a lot so this is an interesting take on it. I feel like everyone does have a different opinion on it. But from what I’ve seen from the movie I can totally see why Elvis loved it and why he looked up to James Dean. Honestly if there wasn’t any singing at all in King Creole and it was completely a dramatic movie I feel like it would be more popular and more know and up there with Rebel Without a Cause. In my opinion.

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

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a piece of cake

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list here.

You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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mythoughtsxxblog · 2 years ago

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19 years ago today (September 23 2003) One Tree Hill premiered on the WB.

To celebrate I thought I'd post yet another opinion thread about my favorite show of all time.

Nathan Scott is quite possibly the best teen drama boy/man to ever exist. He had his flaws, but was ultimately the best husband, father, brother, and son anyone could ask for. Despite having a rough childhood, he managed to overcome and stop the toxic cycle of neglect/abuse. He made his children's lives something he had wished for himself. It takes a strong person to do that. Forever will love this man.

Lucas Scott aggravates me to no end.

3x20 is TV excellence. That no look shot is iconic and nothing will ever top that moment in TV.

Nobody does music like OTH. All those performances? Amazing.

Nathan and Haley >>>>> every other couple on the show. Idc what anyone says they were the #1 ship to come out of OTH. They went through hard times, but came out stronger in the end. I don't think there's any other TV couple with this much of a hold on me. And I've watched a lot of TV shows lol. They make me feel so comfy and warm inside. They're safe and overall written so damn well.

Going with what I said above, James and Joy's chemistry is what made Naley work tbh. They had such insane chemistry and it's mind boggling that they never even had a chemistry read when auditioning. OTH writers struck gold with them.

Dan is one of the best villains in TV show history.

Grandpa Dan....an angel lmao

It legit infuriates me that CMM was looked at as the heartthrob of the show when James Lafferty was right there. That man was and is still gorgeous. And if I'm being honest, his acting felt more natural to me than CMM. But that's a conversation for another day lol

We should've got more Skills than Mouth

Brooke's best seasons were the adult seasons tbh. Yes, she had iconic moments in the high school years, but her actual development doesn't really hit until the adult years imo

I'm convinced they only did the Nathan/Brooke sextape because they wanted the audience to sympathize with Peyton. Also Nathan and Brooke are quite possibly the most liked characters, the writers probably thought why not try destroying their development 🙄🙄

I loved Jamie 🤷🏻‍♀️ it seems like so many people find him annoying but I loved him lol I can understand why he might be annoying to some, but I really enjoyed him and thought he was a great addition to the show. He had great chemistry with all the core characters

6x03 is the saddest episode in TV history and if you don't cry watching it, you're not human

Nathan's NBA story arc is amazing storytelling. I loved every minute of it and believe it's one of, if not, the best story arc to come out of the show

Peyton was so much more likeable when she wasn't with Lucas. I honestly enjoyed her and Lucas being friends way more than when they got together

I didn't mind Lucas and Lindsay

Season 9 was so chaotic, but I loved it

I loved how Julian went from this hot mysterious producer to an absolute dork that loved chasing butterflies. Best development lol

This cast deserved an award for 3x16. The acting was on point. The storyline was on point. One of the most well done sch*ol sh*oting episodes I've seen a TV show pull off. It's a shame they barely got any credit for it

Never got the appeal to Karen/Keith. I honestly shipped Deb/Keith more lol

Nathan's depression storyline deserved better. The writers dropped the ball on a lot of mental health storylines, but this one in particular upsets me. First it was the race car incident in season 2. He should've gone to therapy. Then it was season 5 and his back injury. It felt as though he was being told get over it and "man up" when that sends a pretty toxic message. The scene with Peyton and him in the hospital pissed me off. As if seeing a child with cancer is supposed to make him feel better. I get what they were trying to get across, but it could've been done differently. Also Haley throwing dishes/bottles???? Why? Great acting moment from Joy, but unnecessary for Haley's character. I also applaud James for his acting throughout this storyline. Just wish it was written better.

Continuing with the above statement, Haley's depression storyline was done much better. It was a bit rushed, but it wasn't as frustrating to watch.

I always preferred Brooke and Haley's friendship to Brooke and Peyton's

Brooke and Nathan's friendship deserved more screen time. That scene when Nathan goes to check on her before Quentin's funeral will forever break me

Nathan getting harassed in the shower doesn't get talked about enough. Absolutely foul.

Although I loved Brooke getting her happy ending, I kinda wish they settled with her adopting instead of miraculously being able to have kids. Her adopting would've been more relatable.

Rachel deserved better

Quinn deserved better writing. I feel like she was treated more like eye candy than anything. Justice for Shantel VanSanten

FUCK M*RK S*HWAHN

I have many more opinions, but this is already long enough lol. Anyways, this show will always and forever have a place in my heart.

#one tree hill #oth #happy oth day #nathan scott #lucas scott #peyton sawyer #brooke davis #haley james scott #james lafferty #chad michael murray #bethany joy lenz #hilarie burton

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alexthefly · 3 years ago

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So, I finally watched the 2004 Thunderbirds movie, and I have some thoughts...

First of all, this is completely, entirely, 100% @uniwolfcorn's fault.

Secondly, yes it's true. Never watched it. Not even accidentally.

Until now.

Come with me on this journey and listen to my insane ramblings...

- So this is a nice little credits sequen-

- JONATHAN FREAKIN' FRAKES?!?! You're telling me this movie was directed by Commander William Riker?!

- This teacher is giving me Colonel Casey vibes...

- How did this reporter lady get to the oil rig before the boys did?

- Okay, Fermat is adorable and I would die for him. ❤️

- So, our first look at the Thunderbirds in action...

... ::adjusts brightness settings:: ...Nope, still nothing...

- What did they do to FAB1? It's gone from classy machine with classic lines to a goddamn bubble car!

- "Try not to run over any children, Parker." Gee, thanks for that M'lady, I was just h'about to plow h'into them like they was bowling pins(!)

:SNORT:

- Wait, that's not...Fuse, is it?

- Ah, finally a decent look at the 'birds: hmmm, One looks pretty good, but Two seems a bit...Flight of the Navigator?

- Hmmm, perhaps TAG has spoiled me with all the lovely brotherly cuteness, 'cos this dinner scene is not it. Movie Jeff is a big improvement on TOS though.

- Alan, I know you're upset, but you let Fermat finish his dinner goddammit!

- Yay John! Oh, this scene is just gorgeous! John the agony aunt and voice of reason, Jeff worrying about his sons and talking to them like a dad instead of just a commander... It's just so damn wholesome. ::chef kiss::

- Thunderbird Five actually looks pretty goo- ...Aaand they blew it up. 😱 John!!!

- Five: ::floating around in bits::

- "So this is Mount Olympus, and these are the Thunderbirds..." Oof. Mixing your mythologies there, Hood.

- "Like a puppet on a string." ::Sobs in meta::

- Hood: [resumes monologuing]

- Wait, that reporter got to the scene again? In Singapore? *Checks notes* Wasn't she in Russia?

- "Don't you think Tintin is blossoming?" 😳 #cringe

- First question from Jeff is whether the kids are safe, and be still my heart!

- Hoverbikes!!!

- Alan's being a reckless idiot and OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST MOCK MY ANGEL'S STUTTER!!!

- This chase sequence is...oof. Was it always bad, or is it just the naughties CGI shining through?

- UnFuse coming in strong with the evil laugh there...

- Again, brotherly dynamics here is...off: Scott losing hope, Gordon being a condescending knob? Uh-uh. Nope.

- Jeff: "He's a Tracy." 🤍🤍🤍

- Parker is an absolute treasure and I love him.

- Penny, stop quipping and spinning like a top; just kick her in the face!

- "Don't go to sleep." 😭😭😭😭😭

- "We've got to be quick; the Hood is getting away." ...Aaaand your father and brothers? Remember them? Suffocating in space?

- ::gasp:: Two is launching! Cannot wait for this!!

- Bra jokes. 🙄😩 This whole last ten minutes has been a hard steer off the edge of a cliff, quality-wise. Not happy...

- WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE HAVE THEY DONE TO HER UNDERCARRIAGE?!?!?! HOW DARE?!?!?!

- OK, Brains yelling Jeff awake makes everything better! 👓😁 Very very silly but I am here for it.

- That little nod between John and Jeff is everything. 🥰

- ...I see Lady P found time to change outfits during this very urgent and time-sensitive crisis.

- Ah, the obligatory product placement for... Wall's Ice Cream? 😶 Huh.

- The same bloody reporter's in London now!! Seriously, it's been what, a couple of hours tops! Did the studio spring for a bloody TARDIS?

- Accident Zone? Accident Zone?! Firstly, it's clearly not an accident, and secondly, 🔥😡🤬🔥

- Thunderbird Four! ... ::resumes squinting::

- That steering mechanism is going to play murder on their elbows... That said, this rescue sequence is kinda fun.

- The boys cheering and whooping for Alan and Tintin made my heart sing! Why wasn't there more of this earlier?

- Did Lady P get changed AGAIN?!

- And apparently she also forgot all the cool martial arts she knew half an hour ago...

- Aww, Jeff and Alan having a moment. ❤️🤍

- Mr Scriptwriter, if you need a character to be kept alive when by all logic the bad guys should kill her, don't bring that fact up and then leave it totally unresolved! You don't need to start pointing the movie's flaws out to us - we can see them.

- Parker and Fermat my beloveds!

- Veering between awful bits and lovely bits is starting to give me whiplash...

- 🤣😂🤣 The Hood's gone full M Bison! 🤣

- Jeff displaying genuine fear for Alan's safety is giving me life right now.

- "I don't want to save your life, but it's what we do." ::bounces excitedly:: Grandma and Scott said it better in TAG, but the sentiment is the same and I'm thrilled!

- "See you soon, Jeff." Did they...did they think there was going to be a sequel?! Bless their hearts.

- The boys are all dicking about in the pool together and everything is right with the world. ☺️🥰

- See? I knew that "blossoming" thing was creepy!!

- I'm not going to mention John's mutant healing abilities. Not at all. Nope.

- They ALL get to be Thunderbirds? Fermat my baby!!

...You and me both, Parker. 🥲

- Pink pedalo. Because reasons. Apparently.

- 🎶YOU KNOW THE LID'S ABOUT TO BLOW, WHEN THE THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO! 🎵

FINAL THOUGHTS

It absolutely had its flaws but honestly? Not even close to as bad as I thought it would be. Perhaps in 2004 I would have been mad, but today, knowing that TAG exists and fixed so much of what went wrong here, I can dig it. 👍

#most verbose #I enjoyed it really #mostly #thunderbirds 2004 #Alex watches stuff

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sopxhiea · 4 years ago

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Moirai

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Now that the intentions are clear, the niece sees no reason to wait but Alfie just wants to take his sweet time.

Warnings: Age gap.

Genre: Angst and a dash of smut but fluff at the end

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Enjoying the view?”

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.”

The pavement was cold, still a little wet from the rain this morning as the light sound of your small feet padding across the surface filled the empty street. It was past midnight, a little too late for anyone sane to be roaming around the streets of Camden, only the drunk and insane was around at this hour.

The car had stopped a few blocks away from his house as you had to be careful with where you were going. The excuse of going around to your friend’s flat because she was having a rough night had gotten you out of the grand mansion with your driver.

You had changed into a lighter dress, one that was sheer around your upper body and was flowing around your knees. There was no noise or interruption as you looked at the house Alfie loved in. Too small for a man of his power but big enough for anyone around here.

You figured he wasn’t so materialistic, not like the posh ladies you’d been around.

A little shiver was apparent in your arms but it was late for any doubts as your small hand hit the door once, and then once after that. There was a pause, deliberately almost and some shuffling from the other side after the sound of heavy footsteps stopped. You heard an animalistic growl from the other side, unsure of the source but there wasn’t much time to contemplate when the door opened in one swift motion.

And there he was, in all his glory.

His hair was a bit messier than it had been during dinner, sleeves rolled up around his elbows. He was not panting but there was a darker look in his eyes, the same one he had in your study earlier that same day. You shot him a smile he had seen before but it made it harder for him to breathe for a second but he recovered quick enough.

“Enjoying the view?” your voice was breathy and there was a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at your small form standing on his doorstep.

He usually had his maid but he was more than thankful he had given her the rest of the night off. He knew you’d be coming, for all he knew the kiss he gave before leaving was enough to lure you in. You hadn’t slept with the man but you wanted to, so desperate for him to do more but you had a reputation stemming from your uncle and his business.

So all the moves had to be calculated.

“Very much so.” he said, not tearing his eyes from your body as he stared with no shame in the world. Alfie had always thought that beauty should be admire and you were it for him.

“Well, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting...” you spoke and trailed off but he saw the way your lips twitched upward.

He stepped aside, taking your hand in his and closing the door behind you. The space itself would be considered very well off for anyone else but you knew the kind of money Alfie made, he had multiple businesses on the side and your uncle was well aware of his wealth.

Maybe that was why he had been invited to dinner, you thought. It was a sign of trust and signaled at a created of a new bond and you soon realized that very same bond could easily be broken because of you. You didn’t ponder on it, not when Alfie was looking at you the way he was.

Moving further inside the house, you came to the conclusion that Alfie was not a materialistic man after all. Most of the furniture seemed expensive but there wasn’t much of it to begin with. A few shelves here and there with old books with golden covers and a few pictures of what you assumed to be his family.

When you turned back, you found Alfie with a dark look in his eyes and a few centimeters away from you. His chest touched yours, noses almost brushing but you held him back by his arms and smiled. You wanted things to be done quick and efficiently but it also needed to be proper.

“Nice place you have here.” you spoke and didn’t realize the large mutt next to the fireplace.

A smile broke out on your lips as you approached the dog. He was bigger than any dog you’d seen but there was no fear on your face when you softly petted his head, which made Alfie’s eyebrows lift. People, even some tough men, were afraid of his large mutt yet there you were, something half his size speaking to Cyril in a sweet voice.

“What’s his name?” you said, not tearing your eyes away from the dog and Alfie spoke in a mutter, a bit jealous if he was honest with himself.

“Cyril.” he said and not a second later, you cooed to the dog.

“Oh! What a handsome name for a handsome boy..” you said, speaking to Cyril as if he were a baby and as far as Alfie could tell, the mutt was enjoying the attention you were giving him.

You soon realized the man was getting agitated as he watched you play with his dog so you petted Cyril’s head for the last time and sat down in front of Alfie with crossed legs. He wasn’t jealous, he wouldn’t call it that but he had waited for you to arrive since he’d left your uncle’s mansion and all you were keen on doing was to pet the damn dog.

“You’ve been waiting then, hm?” you spoke, lifting your leg up and down and he was focused on the way your body looked under the light dress for a solid minute before meeting your eyes.

All you got was a grunt of approval.

“Disappointed?” your voice was breathy as you asked him, he seemed a bit more calm than usual which, you had learned, was not a good sign with him.

He liked speaking, any time and all the time. It didn’t matter what it was about. Sometimes he’d tell you about business, how his lads were not behaving and all their little mistakes. Sometimes it came to be about him, how he liked his rum a certain way and the way he liked the silk dresses you wore more than the cotton ones, it’s the way they make you glow, he had said.

But he wasn’t speaking at that very moment, for whatever reason he had.

So you took it on your hands, the whole silent treatment on its own. You got up slowly, his eyes were keen on roaming around your body as you did so and you didn’t hide anything. He had kissed you plenty anyway so he had felt a certain amount of your skin against his.

You slowly sat on his thigh, not straddling him but more like putting all your weight on one thigh. The man was massive, anyway, you doubted that he felt anything as you settled yourself on him. He was still looking, adamant on keeping his eyes on you.

He was a damned man, not afraid of anything other than his mum and she was not on this side of the soul anyway so he had very little to worry about. But he would never hurt an innocent person. Sure, he had killed a man with his fists before but that wasn’t the same as a small girl with a clean heart.

Although you’d speak to differ.

“You’re worried?” you spoke, reading right through the difficult man and it took him a minute to register your words.

“Why the fuck would I, yeah, be worried, pet?” he said, hand at his beard like it usually was as he looked at you with uncertain eyes.

He didn’t know what was going through your mind and Alfie always knew what someone else was thinking.

“You tell me.” you spoke, eyes scanning his but you weren’t really there anymore. There was a flood of worry evident in your orbs and Alfie hated to see that, hated it more because you had been the one to cause it.

You were not posh by upbringing but Alfie knew the people you hung out with, the small circle you had been put in. The girls were closer to aristocracy as he saw it, dainty dresses and conceited minds. They didn’t care for anything else other than their clothes, jewels or the party they were headed to.

He had seen you once with them.

You didn’t fit in, he could tell that much. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t look like you belonged with them, if anything you looked much more elegant than they’d ever be but there wasn’t the same fake smile they had on their lips. Those groups were a must, something your uncle had requested from you since he was doing business with some of the girls’ fathers and he needed you to make a good impression.

They weren’t your friends.

Alfie knew that but the scene had reminded him that you were a small posh girl, somewhere at the top of the social elites whereas he was a gangster. He didn’t mind the commotion, he had never been the one to care for what people had thought of him but you were young, so young in fact that he was afraid that he’d ruin you forever.

You leaned forward a little, in an attempt to get to kiss him but he was deep in thought.

“Alfie.” you called for him and he came out of his daze. You offered him a slow smile but he spoke with a monotone voice instead.

This was the gangster side of him.

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.” his voice was low but loud enough for you to hear from the close proximity. You blinked a couple of times and got up from his thigh.

The man was so full of himself sometimes.

“And?” you said, he looked up with a confused face and let you continue.

You wanted to fuck him that night but maybe it would have to wait for later.

“I don’t know why you think so highly of yourself. I just wanted a fuck.” you said, truth hitting him right in the face in an unusual manner.

“Why not fuck one of them rich lads, pet, hm?” he said, not getting up but crossing his arms instead. He was getting angry but he’d never hurt you, you both knew that.

You scoffed at his face with a heaving chest. Your face was slightly flushed, anger evident in your eyes as you stared at him. He thought so highly of himself that it made you want to leave but you had told your uncle you’d be staying the whole night and you were, for a faint moment, tired of lying to the poor old man.

And all along, Alfie got caught up in the way that you looked.

Angry and bothered, it did things to him.

“Because I’ve done enough of that.” you said, breaking the small spell you had put him under with your angry orbs.

He chuckled at first.

He had heard about your tactics, had never been at the receiving end. He had heard about the way you’d change your name, your whole attire and cover story. As far as he knew, you’d been a butcher’s daughter, a foreign student and even a dress maker at some point. All of these covers popped up in one night and disappeared as quickly. As he had come to learn, all these ladies had the same description.

So he connected all the dots and there you were.

“Ya’ wanna fuck a dangerous man now, yeah, that it, luv?” he said, not sounding angry in the slightest but simply very curious.

You took a moment to think.

You had seen plenty of gangsters before, some with blood on their hands and some with scarves around their neck and a blade in their hat. It didn’t matter that Alfie was a gangster, that was just how it had happened and was a mere fact. You wanted him because he had been nothing but kind patient, not because he was a criminal of sorts.

“That’s what you think?” you spoke, eyes fiery and Alfie’s mind kept on focusing on the way your chest rose and fell rather than what was being asked.

He was just a man after all.

“Is it?” you spoke once more, desperate for him to say no but he had been fueled by anger in the first place and most of the time, he didn’t mean what he said.

“Nah.” he spoke, in a heartbeat. He had been a bit too furious with you.

The business was getting to him, and all that you brought to the table. He wasn’t complaining but Alfie was not a patient man, not when it came to talking what was going through his mind and you’d known that much but his sharp words had never been directed at you so it took you a minute to regain composure.

“Then why did-”

“Luv, I’m fuckin’ sorry, yeah, I am..” he said, getting up from where he was sitting and holding your arm gently. Your eyes were no longer lit up but you just looked a bit down and Alfie knew it was because of the way he’d handled everything. “..didn’t mean to speak to ya’ that way.” he said, not using the word ‘fuck’ to ease your nerves, although it took everything for him not to.

He slowly guided you out of the living room and into his study. He was whispering sweet nothings to your ear as an attempt to get you to feel a bit better when he sat you down on his lap. Then he rambled, much like he did all the time. He spoke about how boring your uncle’s dinner was and how glad it he was that it was over and that earned a light smack to the chest from you but he made it up by telling you that it was all worth it since he got to see the pretty lass.

He talked and talked and you didn’t even realize he had gotten his hands under your skirt.

-----

“St-stop.” you whispered against his skin, his face was inches away from you.

You looked flushed underneath him, laying on his large bed while his hand massaged you under your skirt. The other hand was on your waist, venturing every now and then to explore more of the skin.

He did stop, right after you told him to.

You gulped and looked at his eyes, his face merely inches away as he looked down at you. He was making this take longer than you were used to and it wasn’t that you were complaining but you felt desperate to connect your body with his and he had every intention of doing that as well, just a bit later on.

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me.” he growled in your ear while his hands resumed what they were doing. It earned a low moan from you, the kind that made all the pressure in his body go south.

It had already been hard to resist you all those times you’d made out but Alfie would never cross the line, the line you had put there. He respected you and your choices and you had waited for a good amount of time before letting him in your pants, it had felt like torture for him to wait but he had.

Another low moan left your lips, one that made your chest vibrate and it took Alfie a moment to resume what he was doing. You looked so pretty under him, falling apart each time his fingers moved.

You weren’t a virgin, not by a long shot but men usually only cared about their part of the exchange. They would handle their business and make it quick so you weren’t sure of sex could feel good for both parts or it was only designed to satisfy men.

All your questions found answers while Alfie’s lips planted open kisses on your neck and trailed down, inch by inch. You didn’t tell him anything, it was just the initial reaction of slight panic when you felt this good, when he made you feel this good. You let him do his thing, unaware of how responsive your body was being to his touch but he reveled in it.

“Alfie.” your voice was a low whisper, breathy against his skin as he worked against your core. You gulped and he smiled against his skin.

Was it supposed to feel this good?

It felt like freefalling, like you were floating but it also felt close to the edge. He was holding you in his arms the whole time, his touch gentle against your skin. It almost sounded funny, just how gentle this cruel gangster was being with you. He didn’t want you to get hurt, as he knew that was easier than he’d anticipate.

Your legs were quivering as he held you, your breath caught in your throat while you saw stars. His hand didn’t stop, it only multiplied in how dense his movements were as he watched you fall apart. Your hands were digging at his back, too gentle for him to say anything and he drowned in the way you looked.

A thin sheet of sweated coated your body as you recovered from your high, still a bit fazed at what had just happened. You knew what it felt like, just not from a man’s hand and certainly not a gangster. Your eyes soon met his, his blue orbs no longer curious but dark. He looked like he was ready to devour you.

“This is going to get me killed.” you said, your voice still a bit hoarse as you looked into his eyes.

And it would kill you, you both knew it.

Alfie would be fine if the word was ever to get out, he was a grown man who owned an empire he had made for himself. He wasn’t afraid of a lot of things but you were just a young girl who happened to have a dangerous uncle. He would be the one responsible for everything that would happen and he didn’t know if you’d come out of it as the same person you’d been at the beginning.

“Ya’ afraid, luv?” you spoke against his lips before they landed on yours.

He kissed you like a fresh breath of air, it wasn’t the usual kiss. He took his time, as if he was trying to tell you something but you were too lost in the touch of him. You moaned into his mouth and he absorbed every little sound as he kissed you.

You broke the kiss, out of breath as you looked at him, hands on his cheeks as he smiled down at you. You didn’t know if you’d want to stop, even if it were to kill you. You weren’t afraid, you knew you would be able to keep this going for at least two months, you had lied to your uncle before and had no intentions of stopping because you were sleeping with a gangster.

“It’s not that.” you spoke against his lips as he caressed your body, hands all over your soft skin. You were letting him do whatever, the time you had with him felt too precious to pass up any opportunity.

“What..” he kissed you once in between the words. “the fuck ‘s it then, hm?” he spoke against your lips and you realized he’d been staring for a bit too long for it to be ‘just looking’.

You licked your lips first, savoring the taste as he inspected you with his eyes. You’d tell him but he figured you’d need a moment before.

You weren’t afraid, not in the slightest.

“I will get into trouble, which isn’t the problem..” you gulped, a hand over your head as you looked at him. “...I’m not sure what he’ll do to me.” you let out, letting your voice be heard.

Your uncle was known to be generous but not when it came to his perfect little niece. You had gotten away with everything till now and if he found out that you were sleeping with a gangster, let alone Alfie Solomons of all gangsters, he’d get you married to some boring chap and send you to the countryside.

You gulped under his stare and he looked at you once more before speaking. He was no longer hovering above you but sitting in front of you on his bed.

“What could yer old man’ fuckin’ do?” he said, not to mock your uncle but to find out what made you feel so uneasy.

He could do many things.

He could get you out of school, something you desperately didn’t want him to do. He could easily get you married, send you off to some island people hadn’t even heard of. He would yell at you, you knew that. He wouldn’t hit you, that was a line he wouldn’t cross but he would be angry with you and you didn’t know for how long.

The uncertainty made you feel uneasy, not the fear of it all.

“I don’t know....he could easily ruin me, I know that much.” you said, a sigh leaving your lips and you sat up as well, facing Alfie as he looked at you.

“Ruin ya’?” he asked, unsure of what you meant but that was expected. You didn’t share the same culture and so, it could mean many things as far as he was concerned.

“He could get me married to one of those boring old blokes, the ones that keep asking for my hand.” you spoke, as a matter of fact.

There was quite a few of them but you’d never mentioned it before, not seeing the relevance. They wanted to marry you for your uncle’s wealth but you figured it was not of importance. It was obvious to many but Alfie had never paid attention to it before. He couldn’t deny the fact that you were much younger, a lot more innocent and in his eyes, deserving of better than he was.

“Hm.” he said, hand tugging at his beard as he looked at your sitting form on the bed, hair a bit messy while your chest still rose and fell with a faster pace than usual.

You scooted close to the bear of a man and sat next to him on the bed, leg touching his and his eyes focused on the contact for a second before settling on your features again. You were waiting for him to speak, he could tell from the way you chewed your lip.

His hand lifted, thumb brushing against your lip and you stopped the movement of your teeth. He could see the indecisive tone your eyes held, as if to say that you were still contemplating. You’d taken risks before, big ones at that but sleeping with a gangster had never been on that list. And that gangster was someone your uncle was making business with.

Although you’d already made your decision, you concluded.

He would treat you better than anyone your uncle would find you, or even the lads you would find for yourself. There was no fear of him being crushed by your uncle, since his wrath was something your uncle avoided at all costs. You had no problem sneaking around for a while but if you were to be caught, you needed him to have your back.

“I don’t mind sneaking around, I’ve done it before...” you spoke softly and his eyes remained on you, gentle as he waited for you to finish speaking. “..but if we are to ever get caught, somehow, I need to you to promise me...” you said, not needing to finish the sentence as he knew what you were saying.

You needed him to tell you that he wouldn’t just flee.

Men were scared of power, although some were adamant on fighting it. You knew Alfie was no ordinary man but the fear of being faced with your uncle could still be something he was not adamant on doing, you thought. You watched his eyes contemplate before you saw the decision in his eyes, his face relaxing in the slightest.

“Ya’ think I would fuckin’ leave you?” he asked, not telling you his answer just yet.

He wanted to make you wait.

He liked the innocence sprawled on your features, like a little girl who needed her desires to be met. You were quite spoiled, he knew that but in no way that made him feel uncomfortable, just in the way that made him feel a little amused. He had seen rich girls before, the kind of ladies that would make hell look like a playground if their dress didn’t fit perfectly but you weren’t like them and he decided that was because of how you had been raised.

But you were still a little spoiled, he thought with a smile.

“I didn’t say that. I was as-” you started speaking, features a little agitated but he stopped you with a smile on his lips. He was just toying with you.

“If we take this further, yeah, you’ll have a lot of fuckin’ trouble gettin’ rid of me, pet.” he said and watched your features relax.

You hadn’t slept with him yet, but you would that night.

“Good. I’d like that.” you said with a childish smile and he felt his chest vibrate.

He looked at your for a bit then, glowing under the moonlight. God you were so young but he didn’t feel the difference most of the time. It made him feel young, if anything. He smiled as his hand cradled your skull gently and he saw the determination in your eyes as your lips neared his.

He tasted all power and manly. There was a taste of vanilla you couldn’t place, and the faint smell of rum on his clothes but there was comfort in everything that he was. You smiled against his lips, straddling his sitting form on the bed and you earned a growl from him the moment your legs landed on top of his.

This was a familiar scene for all you knew but you’d ask for it this time, you felt no shame in it.

Speaking against his lips, you kept your hands on his hair and chest as your voice met his ears.

“Don’t make me wait.” you spoke between his desperate kisses. His defense was weakened from earlier and he had no intentions of leaving things at kissing that night but he liked the idea of you begging, it made his mind go blank.

He hummed against your lips while you responded to every little action that came from him. Instead of laying you down on the bed and getting things started, he just kept kissing you for a while. You didn’t complain at first, tongues clashing as you sat on top of him with a flushed face but you were growing impatient and you needed him to get to work.

“I’m not gonna beg for it.” you spoke against his lips and grinded against his crotch which only weakened him further.

In a split second, he had you trapped under him on the bed as you laid on your back and stared up at him with darker eyes than before. You wanted this for so long and the man was making you wait which only made you frustrated.

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that, lass.” he said as he planted kisses on your collarbone and your hands found his back while he worked on kissing every inch of you.

It felt like being worshipped, like he was showing you something he couldn’t put into words.

You decided, very quickly, that you wouldn’t mind waiting. It seemed like the man had all the time in the world as he gently kissed your neck and trailed down, inch by inch as you squirmed underneath him. The night was long and he had every intention of showing you how a lady should be treated.

You moaned lowly when he bit the inside of your thigh and he was soon kissing you again. He was the one keeping you on your toes now as it got harder to predict his next move.

You would beg for many things that night but none of them would feel foreign as they rolled off your tongue.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @jjklefttoe @ floatinginwords @opheliasbrokenmind @ alliss19

a/n: I’m sorry this came in so late but I truly do hope you enjoyedit and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! There is more coming but there might be a small delay but it’s in the works <3

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crystxlclear · 4 years ago

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sudden desire

chapter six: previously on: chaotic stupid

part seven of sudden desire

prologue / one / two / three / four / five / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character (coraline meyer)

word count: 8.2k (oh yikes)

warnings: no beta read, brief mentions of pregnancy i guess?

author’s note: this took me weeks to write oh my god

Coraline hasn’t told anyone about Marcus’ offer. Not even Loren, when they’d met for the first time in months, when her boyfriend finally got a night off work to look after Maisie. Not even when they’d drunk too much wine and her head was so fuzzy that she probably would have told anyone anything, if they’d asked. She’s not even sure where she’d start.

Coraline has never been the best at keeping secrets. At least, not her own, and definitely not when she was younger, and she’s always wondering whether that’s why the media seem to think she’s easy prey for their rumours. It never seemed to bother Scott; he was the same, so open and willing to talk about anything and everything with anyone who asked. But it’s different with Marcus. He’s private by necessity but he’s also private by choice, too. She wonders if he’s always been like that, if before the heartbreak he’d told her about occurred, if he’d opened up to people. If what had happened to him had made him closed off. He’s never seemed like a closed book before (and, hell, maybe he isn’t, maybe he just doesn’t want to relive those times; and he doesn’t have to tell her anything, anyway) but he’d opened up to her after he’d made his ‘baby suggestion’. And all she can think of now, since he’d recounted the stories, was that those women - the ex-wife who’d claimed he was too ‘nice’, who’d claimed he was too ‘clingy’ and ‘needy’, and all that utter bullshit, and the one who’d left him for another man, left him alone in D.C. without a single person to lean on - must be completely insane to think that he isn’t good enough for them. Marcus Pike is too good for anyone, she thinks. He’s the best person she knows. Marcus Pike makes Coraline want to be a better person. They didn’t end up ordering takeout that night, like they always did. Coraline had found herself reaching to the back of her cupboards, searching blindly for some ingredients she wasn’t even sure she had, just for him. Marcus loves breakfast. Like, he really loves it, she’s come to find. And at any time of the day, really. And there’s a diner he frequents; it’s near his office, on the other side of town, tucked away just out of Cora’s reach. Though, he has taken her there once before - just after they first met, when she’d tagged along with her older brother to the FBI debriefing, to check his gallery was secure; she’d thought it was a date, until he’d prefaced his offer with an insistence that it was ‘just as friends’; Marcus had spent the whole time raving about the pancakes he ate every Friday — a treat for a long week’s worth and a change from his usual burger and fries — how he’d found the place by accident and it was part of his daily routine, now, until Coraline had given in and let him order for her, since he knew the place better than she did - most of the time, they see each other when it’s late, when he’s already been for his almost daily pancake-fix and she’s collapsed to the sofa with her legs draped over the armrest. They haven’t been back since, though she’d jump at the chance if he ever asked again. Coraline may be a pretty awful cook, and she may not be able to make pancakes as good as the ones he likes, but surely it’s just the sentiment that counts. He’s spent far too many evenings eating greasy Chinese food at her behest, insisting that he’s fine with it, because it makes her feel better. It’s the least she could do. She’d spent an hour making perhaps the world’s worst pancakes - even as Marcus insisted that she didn’t have to cook for him, that they could just order pizza or something if they wanted a change - pancakes so bad that she’d had to drench the damn things in syrup just to disguise the odd sour taste that somehow tinged every mouthful. Marcus had eaten it without issue, even as she’d apologised endlessly for her dreadful culinary skills and insisted that he didn’t have to eat them if he didn’t like them. They’d made him smile, though. And it melted away the last dregs of awkwardness between them. That was the pancakes’ purpose. It didn’t matter that they were utterly terrible, borderline inedible and a little lumpy.

But, when Monday rolls around and her older brother, Daniel, comes to her with his regular insistence that she brings that ‘nice FBI agent she’d made friends with’ to their weekly dinner at his house, she took him up on the offer, for a change. She’s never asked because she’s always assumed he would say no; they weren’t dating and it was a little weird. Surely an invite to weekly family dinners was something couples did.

She always ignores Daniel, used to the persistent insistence to ask him. Relenting — finally — comes with the sense that she feels as if she owes him now, though. To make it up for her dreadful pancakes with Daniel’s wife’s cooking, which was always amazing. To make up for the week of unforgivable ignorance. To help them move past the ill-thought-out offer of a baby. She’s sure he’ll still say no, when she calls him on his lunch break, when she knows he’ll be sat at the counter in that same diner, enjoying that brief moment of time away from paperwork. Their lunch breaks line up, those rare and all-too-rare moments when they have time to relax, the tension in their shoulders owed entirely to their morning workloads melting away at the soft sounds of the other’s voice.

His voice is pleasant, like it always is; Marcus Pike’s voice is like serenity to her, all gentle and familiar, and, this time, he sounds amused when he answers the phone. “Well, this is a nice surprise.” His voice crackles through the phone. The reception in the diner is terrible - it’s the only thing he ever seems to complain about - but she can still make out the sound of the smile in his voice. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Marcus.” Coraline hums, shoving the last of her laundry into the washing machine, her phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear. “I’m calling with an invitation.”

“An invitation?” He ponders, musing over the idea. “To one of those glamorous celebrity parties you’re always telling me about?”

She scoffs. “Oh, you wish, Pike. It’s an invite to my brother’s for dinner. Incredibly glamorous, I know.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments. She almost regrets asking. She does when he replies. “Are you sure?” He questions. “I’m not sure-”

Coraline nods as if he can somehow see her through the phone. “I’m sure,” she insists, “Besides, Daniel and Kimmy want you to come.”

“Coraline, I don’t know-”

“Marcus, don’t make me beg.” She chuckles, but it’s a nervous chuckle. She knew he would say no; that’s why she hasn’t asked him, to avoid this awkward conversation between them when he was uncomfortable and looking for a subtle way to turn her down without hurting her feelings. “Please.”

There’s another pause as he lets out another muffled laugh. His tone is teasing when he speaks again; she can practically see the smirk as he sips his coffee. “And what’s in it for me?”

She bites the inside of her cheek, stifling a giggle.

She could think of a lot of ways to repay the favour.

Cora pushes through the onslaught of entirely… inappropriate thoughts, especially to have about your best friend and offers up the most innocent of offerings, though her voice slips to find that low, rumbling register reserved only for the discrete. Mundane words tipped in something intriguing. “I’ll never make you pancakes again.”

“Deal.” He snaps far too quickly through the phone.

Her mouth falls open. “Marcus,” she gasps, mock offence in her voice.

There’s silence for a moment. “Sunshine,” Marcus calls out through the static, like he’s sure he’s actually offended her. Like he could ever do that. “I thought your pancakes were great.”

Even a lie sounds like the truth coming from his lips.

“Damn right they were,” she insists.

When she lies, even when it’s laced with laughter, it sounds like one. She’s glaringly aware that’s a complete contradiction, given her job.

“Pancakes- real pancakes, diner pancakes- on me for a month.”

“Tempting.”

“...Two months?”

“Fine, fine. If you insist.”

The rush of breath that escapes her in relief is so embarrassingly loud, she’s sure he can hear her. She’s glad he’s not there, watching her, so he can’t see the wide, uncontrollable, entirely tooth-filled grin that splits across her face; she’s sure she looks maniacal, sat in her trailer on set, covered in thick dustings of fake mud from that morning’s scenes.

She’s never been more thankful for the solitude of a phone call before.

“I do insist. I’ll pick you up at five.”

Amusement, again, peeks through in his tone. She’s sure he’s eating pancakes — those blueberry pancakes with mountains of ice cream — because they’re the only thing that makes him happy like this, especially on a heavy workday. “In that super-fancy car of yours?”

She’s had her car for twelve-years. But it’s even older than that, fixed up by her father in his garage for what seemed like years. It’s an old run-down black Camaro from the seventies that she’s had since she was sixteen; far too trusty and sentimental to let go of, driving her cross-country from LA to DC without a hitch those six-months ago. It lives in the private parking lot down the street from her apartment complex, tucked away, out of use most days, because the traffic of DC is far too heavy in the mornings and it’s easier to walk or take the Metro instead. Weekly nights spent at Daniel’s on the opposite end of the city gave her an excuse to pull her car from its designated parking space and navigate the busy streets to the comforting hum of the engine.

Coraline knows Marcus loves her car, as much as he jokes about it. It’s evident in the way his face lights up when he sees her sat there, parked down the street outside the FBI headquarters; his smile illuminated by the harsh street lamps overhead, cutting through the darkness alongside the bright nearby office lights and flickering neon signs that cast stained glass shadows on the sidewalk. He’s watching her as she taps her fingers in time to a song she doesn’t recognise on the radio.

Marcus ducks into the car with a ‘hello’ lingering on his lips and ducks to kiss Coraline’s cheek; it’s a friendly gesture that lingers, not unfamiliar as a display of friendly affection between them, but still swelling that giddy sense of happiness in her chest like it’s the first time.

“I brought the beer.”

Coraline glances over at him warmly as she starts up the car. The engine rumbles to life, almost sounding unhealthy. She reaches over and squeezes his shoulder a little, fingers falling down his arms.

Marcus had insisted he bring something; a repayment for dinner, for Daniel and Kimmy inviting him over. She’d insisted he didn’t need to — neither of them would mind; they just wanted to meet the lead in so many of Coraline’s stories, for real this time — but then he’d insisted that he had to, that his mother would never let him live it down if she found out he forgot his manners and turned up without a thank you gift. So she’d told him to bring beer (not wine, definitely not wine, for Daniel’s sanity’s sake). And he’d obliged.

Not just that cheap beer, either. But the expensive kind, the kind you could only find in certain places if you were looking for it. He’s spared no expense.

He doesn’t need to impress them, though. They already like him well enough, on the basis of Coraline’s endless stories.

“Is what I’m wearing okay?” He questions as he smooths his hands over the front of his suit jacket. “I didn’t have time to change.”

He’s still wearing his work clothes — somehow still relatively undisturbed even after hours of the paperwork he’d been half-complaining about to her the night before — yet he still looks great. He’d probably look great in just about anything. Coraline looks entirely underdressed next to him; just blue jeans and a white shirt, and the thin golden pendant her mom had given her the night before her wedding hangs against her chest. She doesn’t wear it much anymore, not since the divorce. But Marcus had seen it the other day, while he was waiting for her to finish getting ready, perusing the expanse of her drawers, intrigued by the jewellery that hung from a stand. He’d said it was beautiful - with the delicately carved bird in the middle, surrounded by flowers - and she found herself reaching for it every morning since.

She’s not sure why. She just likes to wear it, now.

“You look great.” As always.

He scans what she’s wearing, casual and, as the wheels being their customary groan when she sets the car in reverse. “It’s not too much?” He’s shuffling awkwardly, hands tugging at the lapels of his suit jacket. Is he nervous?

She watches as he moves, shifting slightly in his seat; she’s watching from the corner of her eyes, half her focus on Marcus, the other on pulling out onto the busy road. He’s staring straight ahead, out at the car ahead of them, like the license plate is somehow the most interesting thing in the world right now. His brows are furrowed. The air between them is thick with anticipation and it’s like something has changed; for good or bad, she’s never sure with them anymore, not these past few months, but his hand is gripping his knee and somehow everything seems heavy again.

He’s met Daniel before, it’s not that. Briefly, sure. But that couldn’t be it. He’s usually so relaxed and laid back, especially around her, never worried about making a joke or goofing off. She doesn’t like seeing him like this.

She reaches over and squeezes his hand; he steadies himself and tilts his head towards her. Her smile is warm and bright and comforting, and the gentle brush of her fingers over the hand that grips his knee relieves the inexplicable anxiety that has strangled him from the moment she’d invited him to dinner. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know what it means, what any of it means. Why things are suddenly so different between them after six months of being nothing but friends.

Why he, for some godforsaken reason, thought suggesting they have a baby together was a good idea.

Did he really want that?

Either way, he’s pretty sure Coraline doesn’t. Not with him, at least.

Cora hums, eyes dropping to herself and the wrinkled jeans she’d fished out from the back of her wardrobe. “Least you made an effort.”

…

Daniel Meyer is seven years older than Coraline. He’d always been fiercely protective of his younger sister when they were growing up; not in that abrasive, overbearing and destructive way, the way when your life is governed strict and rigid, but Daniel Meyer didn’t take kindly to people hurting his sister. Growing up, he helped her deal with things - the bullying in high school, the heartbreak of her first breakup - so it only seemed fitting that, when she’d moved to D.C., the same place he’d called home with his family for eight years, that he would do the same. That’s how their weekly family dinners were born, from his insistence to help his younger sister settle into her new home, in a new city she barely knew.

For the longest time, Scott Meyer was public enemy number one to him. Sometimes she wonders, now that it’s all over, the divorce is final - now that he’s out of her life for good - if he still is. Or if they’ve really all moved on like she thinks they have.

The second they arrive at his front door, greeted warmly by the smell of pie and a grinning Kimmy, wearing an apron and slightly flustered, looking just as welcoming as always. Her blonde waves - the waves Coraline has always been so jealous of - are pinned up haphazardly out of her face, half-spilling down her back from the clip that tries to hold it in place.

“Good evening.” Her voice sounds like a song, light and sweet, and her smile is even wider than usual as she glances between her sister-in-law and Marcus, who stands a little behind her, radiating that familiar confidence that Coraline is used to. The half-hour drive had relaxed him enough that, now he’s met with Kimmy’s friendly face, he’s the one that’s comforting her, with a gentle hand on her back and the silent reassurance that things will be okay.

Coraline is mostly worried about him. She's still not entirely sure he wants to be here. She doesn’t blame him.

Kimmy leans forward and kisses Coraline’s cheek in greeting, the usual gesture.

“This- well, you know Marcus.” Cora ushers towards her best friend beside her when she pulls back.

“Marcus, of course!” Her face lights up even more. “I’ve heard a lot about you since we last met.” Kimmy’s tone is amused. Her eyes waver towards Coraline, a knowing look in her eyes.

“It’s great to finally meet you, for real this time.”

Kimmy’s eyebrow quirks up at Coraline for a moment, the hint of a smirk as Marcus introduces himself, that same FBI Agent-trained surety tipping the edges of his voice, before she finally ushers them inside. It’s starting to get cold; the evening chill is creeping in from the river beside the house, reaching out towards them. Coraline is glad she’d tossed a coat onto the backseat of her car before she’d left and Marcus tugs his suit jacket tighter around himself. “Come in before you both freeze to death.”

The house is alive with the joyous yet shrill screams of children. Coraline’s nephews, to be exact. It always is. Every night. Every week she turns up and they’re running around, playing whatever game they deem fit that evening. Half the time, Coraline gets pulled into their games, whenever she’s not helping Kimmy in the kitchen (which isn’t often, because she’s hopeless at it). Of course, today’s no different.

The two of them are darting around the living room, screaming bloody murder as they wear themselves out; Finley, the oldest, is chasing Elliot, his curls falling haphazardly over his eyes. She can’t tell what they’re yelling about - she never can; it’s just a tangled mess of screamed words - but Elliot is giggling so much that he has to stop every couple of minutes to catch his breath. Finley stops with him, pulling himself from their games for a second to wait as they both regain their composure and carry on. They wear themselves out before dinner and then everything seems to go off without a hitch.

Cora hangs her coat on the hooks by the door and kicks off her sneakers, and Marcus follows suit with his jacket and dress shoes. He looks to her for guidance, that immediately understandable hesitation of being in an unfamiliar house, and this silent agreement settles between them as she sweeps her way into the living room. Her footsteps were light; so light, in fact, that she reached her nephews without disturbing them, startling Elliot when she scooped him up in her arms and spun him around. He complains at first, ducking his head away as she tries to kiss his cheek, letting out the most dramatic and exaggerated noises. Eventually, he gives in and curls his arms around her neck, pulling her close for a second, before he starts to kick again, restless in her arms.

Finley takes to wrapping himself around her right leg and suddenly the three of them end up sprawled out and giggling brightly on the carpet.

Marcus watches from the doorway. He thinks she’ll be a great mom someday. It’s the little things she takes in her stride.

“Hello to you too, Cora.” The low, amused voice of Coraline’s brother, Daniel, comes from inside the living room.

“Hey there.” She’s still giggling. She can’t help it. Finley and Elliot unhook themselves from her and each other and resume their endless laps of the couch.

Daniel stands over her with raised eyebrows. His tie has long-since been discarded and he cuts a casual figure as he cradles the youngest of the Meyers, Piper. She’s only six months and the smiliest baby Cora has ever seen. Usually, she’s asleep by the time Coraline arrives, either cradled in her father’s arms or tucked away in the crib upstairs; today, her legs are kicking back and forth and her hands are fisting into his dress shirt. She’s restless - she knows sometimes that she is, that when they finally cradle her to sleep, it’s best that they leave her or risk jolting her awake for the rest of the night - but she’ll let her wriggle around in her arms for hours if it means catching up on the time she’s missed with her niece all those nights she’s been asleep.

“I brought Marcus.” Cora points towards Marcus as he leans against the doorframe, watching her with fond eyes. She tilts her head back to look at him; he’s smiling and she wants to reach for him. She reaches for Daniel’s extended hand instead, pulling herself up from the floor. She groans uncomfortably, her back aching a little. “Marcus, you’ve met my brother, Daniel.”

Coraline reaches out for her niece; that brooding feeling swells bright and burning again when she takes her, cradling her close into her chest, and she can’t help but glance up at Marcus as Daniel moves to greet him - just barely acquaintances but familiar enough to avoid those awkward initial introductions. He’s watching her, still, as she says ‘hello’ to her niece and gently rests her cheek against the top of Piper’s head. It’s like they’re both wrapped up in that moment where it’s just the two of them - all too fleeting, cut short by Daniel’s greeting and the persistent shouting of children - but it feels lovely. Even if this moment is all they’ll ever get.

Coraline savours the moment with her niece because it’s rare and often fleeting; her, Daniel and Kimmy’s schedules are crammed tight with work and unavoidable commitments and that weekly dinner is the only time each week they can spare to see each other. If Piper is asleep, then Coraline won’t get to say ‘hi’ to her niece. It’s an unfortunate consequence of their careers.

“That’s Elliot-” She points her finger at her smallest nephew. “-and that’s Finley-” Then to the tallest of the two. “-and this… this is Piper.” She bounces the tiny baby lightly in her arms, turning her body so Marcus could get a glimpse at the small smile that pulled at Piper’s lips as her small fist grabbed at Coraline’s shirt.

She’s already told him about them all before. He knows their names. But this is the first time he’s ever met the kids. And it’s somehow maybe the most terrifying thing he’s done in a long time, including that one warehouse shootout his team found themselves in a few weeks earlier.

He feels overdressed and a little ridiculous, just stood there, looking like a lost puppy in the entryway, in his suit and tie. Unsure what to do with his hands or his eyes, or what the hell to say to cut through his quiet. He usually brought a change of clothes to the office if he knows he has somewhere to be but, somehow, in his blind panic at the idea of meeting the family, he’d forgotten to grab anything to change into. And that ease in meeting new people, that effortless skill he’d built up over years of practice, the perks of the job, just seems to have melted away the second he stepped into the house behind Coraline, under the well-meaning scrutiny of Kimmy. This is all normal for her - this weekly routine she’s fallen into - but it’s unfamiliar territory for him.

It almost feels like something it isn’t. Meeting the family. That point in a relationship when you first realise things are serious. Only this isn’t a relationship. And he’s already met Daniel and Kimmy before, even if it was briefly, and while he was working and distracted with planning a stakeout. And Coraline. Always Coraline. But something about her smile just commanded attention, back then - it still does - even when she tries to blend into the background. Once he noticed her. Sat alone at an empty conference table, comically-oversized name badge pinned to the front of her dress, her lips curling up a little as she sipped the sour FBI coffee.

Everyone else had passed the glass-walled room without even a second glance.

He, on the other hand, was convinced he’d just seen a ghost. She’d almost startled him, breath leaving his chest. An utter cliche.

Marcus had recognised her face from TV - though, admittedly, he wasn’t really up-to-date on pop culture, definitely lingering a couple of decades behind, age and time catching up on him, spare time buried beneath a mountain of paperwork to distract himself from Teresa and the unfamiliarity of D.C. - but he always remembers thinking she was pretty. Really pretty. But he always finds it a little embarrassing how much she a hold over him that day, how he’d had to take a second to psych himself up, talk himself down from that nervous ledge he was staring over, before he even thought about entering the room.

It’s weird, looking back, thinking how much has changed. But the changes keep coming, thick and fast, and sometimes it becomes less and less obvious what they are anymore.

“Marcus.” Daniel reaches out a hand for him to shake. He shakes it graciously and says his hellos. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

That’s the second time he’s heard that today. Coraline rolls her eyes a little. It’s not the first time she’s heard it, either. It almost makes Marcus laugh but then she smiles again, half-concealing a grin, and he forgets what he’s thinking about for a moment.

But then he wonders what she tells them about. Whether those stories are good or bad, whether they paint him in colour or in black and white.

With Coraline, he figures it’s probably the brightest landscape of technicolour, regardless of who she’s talking about.

“I’m glad Cora finally asked you to come.”

“Well, you talk too much. I didn’t want to bore him.” Cora shrugs, her full attention on Piper.

“More like scare him away.”

He’s not sure she could ever scare him away.

“Finley is terrifying,” she admits with a giggle but she seems distant. She looks up to raise an eyebrow at him again. Her words are slow, almost drawn out. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to get out while you still can.” It’s meant to be light and joking, and Daniel laughs at her words. Given the way she’s looking at him, he’s not sure.

She just keeps looking at him like there’s no one else around.

She can’t help it. She keeps trying. It isn’t working.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Daniel insists as the boys rush past Marcus; he has to step out of the way to avoid them, smiling as they manoeuvre around him and race out of sight into the back of the house. He smiles fondly as they pass. “They’ll calm down in a second.”

“You hope they’ll calm down.” Coraline jabs her older brother in the ribs playfully. He chuckles as lightly as he can but it's obvious he’s tired; his shoulders slump and his eyes linger closed a little longer than normal, Coraline notices. He’s been working flat-out at his gallery every day, then running home to help with the kids. And Piper is a restless baby - difficult to get to sleep which means that, if she’s asleep when she arrives, she can’t say hello for risk of waking her up - so, unless Daniel or Kimmy are holding her while the house is still alive and humming around her, she refuses to fall asleep. “I think-” She looks towards Marcus. He’s inched closer into the room, now, but he’s still lingering like he needs to be invited in. “-you’ll just have to get used to it.” She hums.

“I’m still not used to it and they’re my kids,” Daniel grumbles, almost to himself.

“Piper seems okay with it.” Marcus points out. He watches as his best friend cuddles the tiny baby close to her chest.

Piper’s looking up at Cora with the brightest eyes. They’re Coraline’s eyes - Daniel’s too, he assumes - that light emerald green that sparkles beneath the warm living room light. Her mouth is in an ‘o’ shape, fascinated, as she stares. She looks utterly transfixed by her aunt’s face as she carries on their idle, gentle conversation, lightly bobbing her up and down, cradling her softly to sleep. Her eyelids were drooping, sleep gently pulling her in. She’s humming gently, whenever she’s not speaking; Marcus isn’t even sure she realises she’s doing it. That it’s just some subconscious instinct inside her, telling her to sing to the baby so she can sleep. She’s drawing gentle circles on her back through her onesie. Slow, idle circles that slow the wriggles and the kicking of his legs, lulling her off to sleep ever-so-slowly.

It’s like she’s a natural. She knows exactly what to do every time; with Piper, with Maisie. It’s like second nature and there’s this even brighter glow, brighter than usual, when she settles into the role. She takes it all in her stride and seems to forget the world around her just for a moment.

“How do you do that every time? Can you come and do that every night?” He jokes. But he doesn’t seem to be entirely joking.

She hums. “Perhaps-” She rests her cheek against the top of her head as lightly as she dares without disturbing her. “Perhaps I’m just a superhero.”

The yells of kids echo through the house, the hammering of feet pounding against the wood floor. Kimmy’s muffled exasperated calls for quiet come from the kitchen, falling on deaf ears as the boys continue to charge through the back of the house.

Coraline catches her brother’s gaze. “Go and help.” She’s noticed the way he’s been watching his daughter anxiously, worried that she won’t fall asleep through all the noise and excitement and the gentle hum of Coraline’s made-up song. “I’ve got her,” she insists.

“Are you sure?”

Piper is slowly drifting off to sleep, even despite the noise. Just at the warmth of her aunt cradling her and the gentle hum of her sweet voice lulling her asleep. “I’ve got her,” she repeats. “Go and help Kimmy.”

Daniel’s shoulders slump in relaxation. He mouths a ‘thank you’ as he jogs from the room, calling out to his sons to stop them from charging around, insisting that they wash their hands and settle down for the sake of their sister.

Now, it’s just Coraline, Marcus and a half-asleep Piper left alone in the living room.

The tension in the air is thick and heavy for a moment.

“Marcus, you’re staring,” she points out. She’s not even looking at him, just can just feel the weight of his kind gaze and it sets her heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. “I’d let you hold her-“ She says as he steps a little closer; now Daniel is out of the room, he’s relaxed. It’s like, without him there, he can pretend it’s just the two of them and Piper curled up content against Cora’s chest, even despite the yell of children’s voices and the unfamiliar surroundings. “-but, if I did that, we’d never get her off to sleep.”

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “I think she’s happier with you.” He settles beside her.

Coraline’s thumb brushes over Piper’s cheek and the baby smiles a tiny smile, eyes still close and fisting her hands tighter into the white material of her shirt. There’s a blissful silence that settles between the three of them — just for a moment — when she looks up at him beside her, watching the pair of them sway gently to a seemingly silent song. The weight of the moment engulfs them like a tidal wave.

“Marcus-“ she breathes out, barely loud enough for him to hear. But he does, in the relative silence, and the way she says his name rips the air from his lungs, like the first time she’d surprised him the day they’d met. Her green eyes are wide and wild and she’s looking between him and Piper like they’re the only things left in the world.

They could do it.

He knows what she’s going to say, if she had the chance. If Daniel hadn’t returned, calling out to them that dinner was ready.

They could do it. He knows they could, she knows they could. They could have this fleeting moment for as long as they both live. Their own little version of paradise, together. No matter how terrible the idea seems to be, they could. But Coraline knows she can’t stay in that world forever. It’s temporary and, as much as she wants that, all day, every day, for herself and not through someone else, she knows she can’t let herself get too in over her head.

Still, Marcus really does think she’ll be an amazing mom.

...

After much persuasion — and the promise of candy after dinner — Finley and Elliot finally settled down long enough for them to eat. Coraline had set Piper down to sleep in her crib upstairs, lingering perhaps a little too long to marvel down at her only niece, wondering what it would be like if she was looking down at her own daughter.

She knows it’s a hopelessly bad idea. That the feelings will catch up with her and pull her under again. Sometimes she just can’t help it.

She returns with that fake smile Marcus has become a pro at noticing. She looks wistful, longing in her eyes, disguised by the small smile that takes over her face when she slides into the seat at the dinner table beside him. She smooths out her shirt and jeans, wrinkled from the baby. Another smile, an assurance that Piper is okay and sleeping soundly upstairs, and the conversation moves on to mostly idle chatter, and Daniel asking Marcus questions about himself. Coraline keeps shooting her brother glances whenever he asks a new question that almost seems too personal. He doesn’t mind one bit, though.

Marcus finds Coraline’s free hand under the table and squeezes at some point. She doesn’t want him to let go.

“Auntie Cora?” Finley asks, leaning his chin on his hand to stretch across the table. His questioning call of her name breaks through the idle conversation they’re all having, like he’s demanding all their attention, and not just Coraline’s.

It steals a moment of quiet between them all.

“Nephew Finley?” She replies, mimicking his stance and the curious, furrowed-browed expression on his face.

“When are you going to have a baby, like Piper?”

It’s a loaded yet completely innocent question on his behalf. He’s merely a curious five-year-old with no ill intentions, and no reason to believe it’s anything other than a normal question; Coraline doesn’t even flinch, even when Kimmy scolds her son sharply and insists he eats the rest of his dinner. Though, Marcus still sees the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Instead, she just smiles and laughs that brightly enchanting laugh, tilting her head to the side in response to her nephew as he sinks back into his chair and pokes at his potatoes.

“Well, I don’t know,” she replies truthfully, “Soon, maybe.”

Marcus almost thinks her eyes waver towards him but it’s so quick that he reasons that, perhaps, he’s seeing things.

“Soon?” Daniel catches up with her words. “You seeing someone?”

“Oh-“ Coraline swallows thickly. She shakes her head. “No, no, not at all. I’m just- optimistic, I guess.”

“I’m sure there’s someone out there for you,” Kimmy poses.

Coraline hums. Marcus doesn’t see the way her gaze trails towards him. “I’m sure there is.”

...

The rest of dinner passed without any more questions on the matter, Finley’s attention switching towards Marcus instead. He was persistent, firing questions at him across the dinner table like he was leading an interrogation, but Marcus kept answering just as enthusiastically as the first time. He’d skirted around the facts a little - it wasn’t exactly a great idea to tell a child, seemingly without a filter, that you were an FBI agent - but the whole exchange had been wonderful. Coraline was sad to see it finish when Kimmy announced the boys could have dessert and they'd leapt from their seats to race towards the cookie jar.

Marcus had offered to help Kimmy wash up as a thank you but she’d brushed him off, and, eventually, he’d resigned to the living room with Daniel. It had taken Coraline months to convince Kimmy that she should let her help clean up, there was no way she would have accepted Marcus’ offer immediately.

Instead, it’s just Coraline and Kimmy, working in tandem to clean the dishes, while Daniel spends time with the kids after a long day at work, and pulls Marcus into their conversation like an old friend.

“I’m sorry about Finn. He’s-” Kimmy shakes her head as she sets another plate down in the drying rack. “He’s been going through one of those... phases lately.”

“It’s fine, Kim, truly.” Coraline sets a couple of dry plates down on the counter and turns to smile at her, before carrying on her job. Sometimes Kimmy jokes about how ridiculous it is that they use so many plates since Piper was born. “He’s just curious,” she insists. “And he makes everything a little more colourful.”

Kimmy chuckles. “That he does.” She washes down another plate. “So, Marcus is great.” She hums, changing the subject towards her with a quirk of an eyebrow and a small, knowing smirk on her face.

Coraline smiles. Though, it’s more to herself than Kimmy. “He really is, isn’t he?”

“Are you two… y’know… is there anything there or-?”

“Oh, no! No, no. We’re just-” Friends. “Just friends.”

“Well-“ She quirks an eyebrow at her sister-in-law. “-maybe you should? Just see how it goes. One date at a time.” Kimmy’s suggestion is as innocent as Finley’s question over dinner. She doesn’t understand the weight it holds. And she doesn’t expect her to, anyway. They’re close but just barely close enough. “Things might surprise you and it’ll do you good to get back out there again after, y’know-“

“No, we-” She shakes her head and turns to finish putting away the plates in the cabinet. In the quiet, she hears Marcus laugh from the living room. It’s one of those whole-hearted laughs, when his head lulls back and his eyes screw shut and crinkle at the corner. She wonders which one of them made him laugh like that, or what made him laugh like that. She hopes Daniel hasn’t pulled out the picture albums; he’s worse for that then their parents. But, since Daniel had made his fortune as an art buyer, eventually to the point he’d made enough to buy his own art gallery, a year ago, Coraline should have known that he and Marcus would get on. They had a lot in common. She’s so glad he likes him, though she can’t imagine a reason why he wouldn’t. “Friends. Friends.”

There’s another silence and she can feel Kimmy’s eyes burning into the back of her head. She turns to see the tail-end of a raised eyebrowed glare, amusement tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, you never know unless you try, Cora.”

“There will be no trying,” Coraline insists, jabbing Kimmy in the side with her nail. She grins and lets her blonde tresses fall over her shoulder. “Of any kind. He doesn’t see me that way.” She finishes.

“Do you see him that way?”

Another pause.

“No.”

Maybe that’s a lie.

Maybe Kimmy knows that.

Maybe Marcus knows that.

Coraline isn’t sure whether she knows that, though.

“Sure about that?”

Coraline scoffs and turns to continue packing dried, clean plates into the cupboards. “You’re worse than Dan, sometimes.”

“Oh, I take offence to that.”

“Shut up and finish the dishes.” Coraline chuckles, crossing her arms and scowling at the lack of crockery left to dry.

“Just don’t write things off so quickly,” she insists, “It might surprise you.”

...

Daniel and Kimmy had tried to persuade them to stay for drinks late into the evening. The boys were shipped off to bed at the usual time, complaining that they wanted to stay up instead, as usual. But Marcus has work in the morning and Coraline has a long string of interviews; the idea of a late-night sounds less than ideal, her eyes already stinging at the idea of staying up any later than they had it.

Instead, they’d make their excuses and leave, ducking away into Coraline’s car with an exhausted groan. The boys had run wild right up until they went to sleep, nagging Coraline and Marcus to play with them every five minutes, even as Kimmy and Daniel insisted that they settle down and get ready for bed. It’s still late when they leave, though. D.C is eerily quiet as they weave through the roads, small crowds of people scattered through the repeating streets of suburbia.

The car ride home is silent of their voices. Not that uncomfortable silence, from before, when things had been awkward between them and neither of them were sure where the other stood. But that kind of satiated, happy and, admittedly exhausted, silence that pools over them. The low hum of the car engine and the radio is persistent in the space between them. Marcus keeps stealing glances over at her as she drives; he can’t help it, but he doesn’t think she notices, her eyes far too focused on the road ahead of her. And, if she does, she doesn’t mention it. Just keeps letting him glance over at her as the street lights illuminate the gentle angles of her face.

He’s glad she never mentions anything. He’d be too embarrassed if she did.

Instead, she’s lost in the music. That blissful flicker of emotion that crosses her face when she hears a song she likes, when her eyes light up at the sound of one of her favourite songs. Her radio is always tuned into some old rock station - he has no idea what it’s called, it’s usually just a continuous loop of different songs cut with the low gravelly voice of a man who sounded like he’d smoked one too many cigars - and most of the songs are the same songs she’s playing on her record player when he arrives at her apartment and she’s dancing around the kitchen while she cooks. He recognises a lot of them from his college days, songs he used to play with his band. It makes him feel old, sometimes, when she tells him they’re songs she spent her teen years with, even though there aren’t too many years between them.

It’s I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing that plays now; she’s a sucker for those objectively-cheesy rock ballads. They’re her mom’s favourites, too. And, maybe he won’t admit it, but Marcus has heard her favourites enough to count them amongst his, now. Maybe he just likes the way they make her smile. Coraline is humming along, her fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the top of the steering wheel idly as her eyes follow the road ahead. Every so often, a flicker of neon tints her in colour when they pass a takeout, the only things still open and busy. The curve of her profile and each curl of her hair is highlighted in red.

It’s these moments of distracted bliss, when everything seems to exist without a care in the world, that he likes the most.

It never lasts long enough.

He insists she just parks in the garage she usually uses, by her apartment building, and he’ll walk her home. She protests - because of course she does - offering to drive him all the way home instead, but it’s dark and even in this quiet, well-off part of town where the streets should be safe, you never know who might be lurking. Maybe it’s the things he’s seen and heard of in the FBI - everything he’s seen during his training, heard through whispers and stories in the office - but sometimes he can’t shake the simple action of making sure someone is safe.

It’s still silent between them as they near Coraline’s apartment complex. That short two minute walk down the quiet, tree-lined street that sparkles with chains of fairy lights. It’s lethargic and lingering, each step heavy with the weight of something that echoes through the quiet neighbourhood.

“Cora, I’m sorry.”

It comes out of nowhere and it worries her. And Coraline has absolutely no idea why Marcus is apologising to her. As far as she’s concerned, he hasn’t done anything wrong. At least, not that she knows of.

“For what?” She questions, brow furrowing up at him as they walk. Their hands keep brushing but she doesn’t have it in her to move her hand away.

“I had no right to drop the baby bomb on you like that,” he admits. He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck uncomfortably. When his hand drops, his fingers brush against her knuckles. “I’m sorry if I made you feel trapped. It was a terrible idea. I should have thought-“

“Yes,” she blurts it out before she can stop herself. She’s not entirely sure she’s thought this through. But she can’t help it.

“Yes, what?”

“The offer.” Her whisper is loud in the suddenly-stifling silence of the street. “If it’s still on the table- yes. I’ll have a baby with you.”

“Coraline-” He gulps and stops dead in his tracks. They’re outside her gate, now. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you won’t.” Coraline insists. She steps closer to him, sea-green eyes staring up at him with heavy expectation. He’s the one that suggested it. He’s the one that had laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, losing precious moments of sleep as his brain swam with questions, wondering whether he should suggest this to her in the first place, or if it was an awful idea. But, somehow, he can’t seem to convince himself that this is a bad idea, that he should just let her down easy, now. It’s seeing her with Piper, seeing her with Maisie, seeing how she lights up around them.

If he can make her that happy, every single day, why the hell would he turn that opportunity down?

Besides, he’s pretty sure it would make him equally as happy. He’s thought about having kids since he was just a kid himself. And god knows the world seemed to have it out for him when it came to love, things aren’t happening any time soon; he can’t really think of anyone better than Coraline to have a baby with.

And, as much as Coraline knows how recklessly stupid the whole idea is, she can’t bring herself to want anything more or less than this. Than him. “It is a terrible idea, y’know?” She finds herself insisting, blinking up at him with those beautifully-wide eyes.

“Truly awful.”

“And there are a hundred different things that could go wrong.”

“Hundreds.”

“But-“

“Maybe we should… try? Maybe just for a little while. See what happens.”

“Maybe we should.” He exhales long and deep out of his nose. “Maybe…” He tilts her chin up towards his with one finger and suddenly he’s kissing her. His fingers brush her jaw, curving up towards her ear and brushing into her hairline at the nape of her neck. Even the soft touch of his hand against hers as they walked was driving her insane but this, this is on another level.

It’s more than the first time they kissed. Less of a brief touch of lips, more of a wave of relief flooding through them both, unfamiliar feelings surging up inside them. This kiss is full of urging anticipation. She’s pulling him closer to her before she can stop herself, their chests flush, lips and hands strong and insistent against each other.

The fumble to her front door seems like the most practised thing they’ve ever done. Familiar when it shouldn’t be, even as they bump into things on their way.

taglist: @wheresthewater

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x fem!oc #marcus pike #sudden desire #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #the mentalist #original character #oc

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 22

Summary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 22: Alfie and Caroline find that there’s something more harrowing than a brief marital disagreement.

TW: antisemitism

“Mr. Solomons.” Candace hesitated to approach the man’s office. She had heard the shouting back and forth between him and Caroline as she put a plaster on Chava’s hand. It was nothing she wanted to get involved in. But Caroline had called for her and insisted that Candace bring Alfie back to the bedroom.

But Alfie didn’t look to be in the mood for any conversation. “What is it?” He asked gruffly.

The young woman wrung her hands together. “Well, Mrs. Solomons was asking if you would return to speak with her further.” She explained.

“Does she? Well, tell her that I ain’t talking about anything else with her today. She’s being reckless, frankly, and I won’t have anything to do with it.” He replied curtly.

Candace had a fondness for the Solomons family, ever since she had been brought in to care for Caroline during her pregnancy. She thought they were lovely people, having seen them in a vulnerable state of domesticity. But that still didn’t erase Alfie’s temper.

So, she tried another approach. “Perhaps, you could talk to me about it?”

He lifted his head to look at her with scrutiny.

“I often find that if you tell someone else your side of the story, you can see things a bit clearer.” She explained with a shaky voice. She was just waiting for Alfie to throw her out of the house for being so nosy and prying into his personal business.

But instead, he sighed. “She wants more children.” He waved a hand to the chair that was sat across from his desk.

Candace took the invitation and sat down.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea ‘cause of what happened with Chava. I ain’t gonna lose her to something that could be avoidable. If we don’t have any more children then we don’t run the risk of-well whatever could happen.”

Candace nodded. “I understand you want to be cautious. But I suppose you could understand Mrs. Solomons too. She told me it was customary to have a big family.”

“Yeah, s’pose it is.” He grumbled. “But tradition be damned, her life comes first.”

“Right, I understand.” Candace nodded. “I think…you’re both right and unfortunately there’s no way of knowing how things will go if you do have more children. But I guess that’s what life is all about. We don’t know how many days we have left.” She shrugged. “It’s about making the best of what you have right now.”

Alfie scratched his beard as he looked at her. “That’s very Jewish.” He said. “Creating heaven in this life, now.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize…”

“No, it’s good. Makes sense. Rational, innit? Life should be celebrated.”

She smiled. “Right.”

“Very profound, Candy.” He praised. “I thought Chava was a fast learner because of me but it might be because of you.” He chuckled and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to Caroline.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few conversations between Alfie and Caroline before they reached an agreement. They would go ahead with having more children as long as there was both a midwife and a doctor at hand during the birth. And if possible, she would give birth in a hospital instead of the home.

But the rest was up to fate.

Meanwhile, Chava celebrated her second birthday. As she grew and learned, Alfie and Caroline were testing the waters to see if she could recognize Caroline’s blindness. Or at least understand it. It proved difficult as she seemed too young to comprehend but old enough to know something was different.

As her temper started to develop a little more, it became very clear that she was her father’s daughter. She could throw a fit like no other and when she wanted to be loud, she could be ear piercing.

Much to Alfie’s chagrin, Chava was a little sponge and would pick up on anything he did or said. She stomped her feet to imitate the heavy sound of his boots in the home. She swore like a sailor and there wasn’t anything Caroline or Alfie could do to change that. Alfie tried to change his vocabulary in front of the toddler but it was too late.

Alfie was in hot water for a bit with Caroline and Julia but it was something they had to live with.

Aside from her mouth and occasional temper, Chava was a lovely little girl. She adored her parents and loved nothing more than just spending time with them.

When Alfie came home in the evening, Chava would run to him with a big grin on her face. And every single time, the stress rolled right off his shoulders. He picked her up and held her close, greeting her warmly.

~~~~~~~~~~

One night, however, her smile wouldn’t be able to cure his stress. As he came home, Caroline met him at the door instead of their daughter.

There was worry creased into her face and Alfie was terrified that something had happened to Chava.

“Carrie, what’s wrong?”

“My aunt just called. Her office building was just set on fire. Or-or bombed, they don’t know yet.” Tears were slipping down her cheeks.

“What?” It certainly wasn’t the news he was expecting. “Just now?”

She nodded, clearly just as confused as he was.

“Right, wait here.” He instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, you need to stay!” She reached out to him. “It isn’t safe. Not until we know what really happened.”

“This might be…” Well, Alfie could come up with a few different potential causes. Sure, it might have been an accident, but he wasn’t counting on it. In fact, he was already lining up a list of suspects in his head. However, that meant that the attack was ultimately his fault. Whoever it was, if they were his enemy, they were trying to get back at him for something. Now Caroline’s family and their business were in the line of fire.

“It’ll be alright.” He assured her. He took her hand in his and kissed her forehead. “Call Ollie. Have him bring Shayna and the kids over. I want everyone to be together until we figure this out. I’ll send Julia here when I get there.”

Caroline nodded but still looked worried. “Just hurry, please.”

“I will.”

~~~~~~~~~

Alfie rushed across town. There was a plume of smoke leading the way to the scene. People had gathered at a far enough distance to see what had happened. There were quiet whispers as he pushed his way through. A police car had already pulled up as the fire was starting to be put out.

Judging by a quick glance at the smoldering remains of the building, there was little chance it was a small accident.

Alfie found Julia talking with a police officer. Her hand was clutched to her chest. The usually iron-tough woman was shaken by the near-death experience.

“Julia.” He approached.

“Oh, Alfie.” She touched his arm, her hand trembling. “Thank God, you’re alright. Caroline thought maybe something had happened to you.”

“I’m alright. What happened?”

The cop didn’t look too pleased to see the notorious gangster intruding. “Move along, Alfie, this has nothing to do with you.”

His eyes darkened. “This is me family, mate. Has more to do with me than it does you. So why don’t you fuck off and find out who did this?” Though, he didn’t really put that much trust in the police to figure out the truth.

Yet, he could be wrong. “We know who did it.” The officer responded sharply.

“Yeah? Who was it then?” Alfie demanded, ready to put his hands around the neck of whatever lowlife committed the crime.

“It’s not any of your business. Scotland Yard will take care of it. Stay away from the matter, lest you want to be locked up for interfering.”

“That a fucking threat?” He snarled. “You better fucking tell me who it was or I’m going to-”

“Alfie, enough.” Julia interrupted sternly. She knew her niece would be a wreck if he was locked up for threatening an officer. “I’d like to see Caroline, let’s go now.”

He glared at the cop. “You’re lucky. I’m gonna find out, you can put money on that, mate.” He jabbed a finger at him before ushering Julia away from the building that was crumbling.

~~~~~~~~~

Before they entered the flat, Alfie stopped Julia. “Did he tell you?”

“Not who they were. But he said they’re fascists.” She answered quietly. “Blackshirts.”

Suddenly, it went beyond Alfie. This was no petty retaliation from the Titanic or Sabini. It had nothing to do with who Julia was associated with. It had to do with their identities.

Alfie could handle people not liking him. Whether they disliked his occupation, his sinful behavior, his kill count, or his distasteful personality. That was all well and good. But once people started targeting his religion, he felt like he could black out from rage. The heart of his people being aimed at like they weren’t even humans. It was sickening. And it was getting closer and closer to home. There was no ignoring it, no chalking it up to a bunch of radical morons with twisted ideology. No, it was serious and far beyond Alfie’s scope of power. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything about it.

~~~~~~~

Caroline hugged her aunt close, relieved she had made it out alive. But she was still confused. “Did you speak with the police?”

“Let’s not concern ourselves with that.” Julia shared a look of discomfort with Alfie. Neither of them was really in the mood to discuss the root of the crime. It felt horrendous saying out loud. “Let’s just be thankful no one was killed.”

Caroline nodded somberly. “Alfie, Chava is upstairs asking for you.”

“Alright, I’ll tuck her in. Just want to talk to Ollie first.” He gave his wife a quick peck before going to find Ollie.

He and Shayna were sitting in the parlor. Their three children were there as well. The two eldest seemed frightened by what was going on, but the youngest was asleep, unaware.

“Ollie.” Alfie jerked his head to the kitchen.

His assistant understood and stood up to follow. “Did they say anything?”

“Fascists.” He replied quietly.

The young man looked confused. The Blackshirts had been in the news but it seemed like a distant worry. Surely something so insane would be written off by the general public before anything would really happen. “Here?”

Alfie nodded. “Scotland Yard’s looking into it, guess they know who did it. Be honest, I doubt they’ll be put in prison. If they do, won’t be for long.”

Ollie looked wary. “Sir…I don’t think whatever you’re thinking of doing is a good idea.”

His boss narrowed his eyes. “So, we’re just supposed to let those fuckers do whatever they want? Next time there’ll be people in the building, Ollie.” He snapped. “And we’re gonna be wondering why we didn’t do anything sooner.”

“But, sir, this is something bigger.” He reminded Alfie. “It’s a political party. They aren’t just a small gang.”

“A group of violent men with a set of beliefs is a gang. Don’t care if they have a political party. Fuck it, I could have a political party if I wanted. All I care is that they come to realize that they ain’t coming back into Camden ‘less they want consequences.”

“Well,” Ollie knew there was little chance of talking him out of anything. “Tomorrow I can see what we might be able to find out about what the Yard knows. Though, we don’t have any informants on the inside.”

“I know someone who does.” Alfie nodded. “I’m going to bring Caroline and Chava to Margate tomorrow. If you’d like Shayna to go as well, that can be arranged.” If he could just pick Camden up and out of London and move all the people to safety, he would. But at the same time, Alfie was afraid of budging. He would not be chased out of his own territory. His family was forced out of Russia because of being Jewish. Alfie was not being forced out anymore. He was staying put.

//Holy moly I’m so sorry for the delay in this. I kept going back to the document but was in such a block that I just had to put it aside for a bit. It’s been so long since I uploaded that 90% of my tag list deactivated 😂

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @thinkingsofamadwoman

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#Alfie solomons #alfie solmons x oc #ofc #oc #ocs #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #tom hardy #tom hardy character #tom hardy fanfiction

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binniedeactivated · 4 years ago

Text

toxic. || yeonjun 💦

(saint side scene #2 since it was highly requested)

𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆. #2˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

word count; 784

“i’m only going to ask you one more fucking time”. olivia rolls her eyes in the passenger seat at yeonjun.

“I said I don’t care where we eat. just as long as the food is good”.

“you say that all the time and then complain about the food”.

“no I don’t”. olivia retorts folding her arms.

“yes you do”.

“no the hell I don’t”.

“yes the fuck you do”.

“just go to a fucking place yeonjun”.

“or we can just go home and not eat at all. sit in fucking silence and hunger in the damn dark”.

“all that because I said I don’t care where we eat?”.

“yes you’re annoying as hell”. he quips with his eyes plastered on the road.

olivia snaps her eyes to him, hating the way he was speaking to her. wondering how in the hell she even got to this point in the first place. their relationship started off as a couple of one night stands and now they’re well into marriage.

“don’t call me annoying yeonjun. don’t fucking start doing that”.

“I can do what the hell I want to do and what are you going to do about it?”.

“you’re angry for what?”. olivia questions angrily, honestly waiting for a reason.

“because you can’t do something as simple as making a decision. that’s a fucking primary skill in life olivia”.

“you know what sometimes I make the wrong damn decisions. like marrying your dumb ass”.

“that was the wrong decision for you?”.

“yes with your toxic ass”.

as soon as the words left her lips she felt yeonjun pull into the parking lot of some random restaurant off the exit.

“you’re always fucking going too far”. `

“I can do what the fuck I want to do. and what are you going to do about it?”. she snaps.

yeonjun gets out of the driver’s seat slamming the door behind him.

“get out the damn car olivia”.

“for what?!”.

he smacks the hood of the car, “I said get out the fucking car!”. he scowls before walking into the restaurant.

olivia rolls her eyes, beyond used to his insanity by now. she unbuckles her seat belt before entering the doors. as soon as she walks through she felt yeonjun’s hand yank the back of her shirt, he was dragging her to the bathroom. she didn’t have time to speak before she was shoved into the women’s bathroom and flung over the sink. yeonjun locks the door behind him.

“why the hell would you throw me! my stomach fucking hurt--”.

yeonjun creates a makeshift ponytail out of her hair with his hand and yanks it back. “why the fuck are you so disrespectful?”.

“why the fuck are you so toxic?”.

he lets her go by pushing her head forward forcefully. she could hear his belt unbuckling and she already knew what time it was. he drags her shorts down and shoves himself inside of her while groping her neck with his hand. he made his first few thrusts sluggish before they became fast and hard. olivia yelped and groaned with pleasure. she let her eyes roll to the back of her head at the feeling of his thick long length filling her and fucking her with absolutely no mercy.

“marrying me was a bad fucking decision?”. yeonjun breathes.

“fuck--no”. olivia answers through her gaspy moans. yeonjun smacks her ass before leaning into her ear further. “I’m toxic?”. he asks before fucking into her even harder. her wet folds hugging his dick just the way he loved.

“yes y-you know you are j-jun”.

yeonjun chuckles, choking her harder. “but you like it though. don’t you?”.

“yess!”. she whines.

yeonjun made his thrusts quicker and harder and olivia felt like she wouldn’t be able to last much longer. at this angle she never lasted and yeonjun knew that. she always complained about his ways and the way he talked to her. but it was clear to see that olivia loved him anyway. in high school yes, of course she wanted soobin like every other girl. but that was before she got attached choi yeonjun. attached to the way he fucked her, attached to the subtle affection he showed, attached to the way he paid attention to her. she loved him and she knew it.

she ended up cumming all him with his cum dripping down her leg in exchange. the both of them were breathing heavy with the mirror fogged. he released his grip on her hair. trying to catch his breath.

“pull up your shorts. we’re eating here”. he says before zipping up his pants and exiting the bathroom leaving olivia drained and weak, hunched over the bathroom sink.

#txt #txt smut #saint smut #saint side scene #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut

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kaistarus · 5 years ago

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Will You Social Distance With Me?

Pairing: Bakugou X Reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Quarantine and social distancing is hard, especially when you’re in high school and one of the only nights you look forward to is cancelled. You’ve given up any hope, but... maybe prom night can still be saved

Notes: This is for all you people that have gotten anything cancelled because of the coronavirus. My college graduation was cancelled, so we’re in this hell hole together :(

“I’m literally dying,” Mina’s face took up a majority your laptop screen as she whined dramatically. Her pink locks were pulled back by a silky hairband for the mudmask smeared across her face. Even in a global pandemic, skin care was her priority. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Wrong usage of literally.” Bakugou popped up front-and-center. He chewed a mechanical pencil as he focused on something off screen, likely doing the assigned online homework you were pretending didn’t exist.

“Okay, fun police.” You smirked. He sneered at his monitor and even though he couldn’t target the look, you knew it was for you.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” Mina waved him off, falling back into her sea of fluffy pillows. “I haven’t had face-to-face interactions with anyone not my family in weeks. I’ll go insane before quarantine is over.”

“You should buy animal crossing,” Kirishima’s smiling face filled your screen as he held up a Nintendo switch. “I’ve never avoided my problems so easily.”

“Your grades are shit.” Bakugou said.

“Were they good before?” You tilted your head, looking at Kirishima’s videochat box as he focused at his lap where you assumed his Switch laid.

“Absolutely not,” Kirishima smirked. “But now I have Crimson Riot Land to disassociate on.” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but your interest had been peaked.

“Hey, where’s Kami?” Mina made a show of tapping her wrist. “He’s late.”

Which was weird. Kaminari was either scheduling their videochats or the first one in the call whining when someone was 30 seconds late. That’s what happens when you’re the most extroverted person in a group during a global pandemic.

“He’s on a date with that Tinder boy.” Sero stated as if it was common knowledge. He laid flat on his stomach toward his laptop surrounded by homework he’d held off till last minute. You tried desperately to forget about the mound of your own homework lying nearby.

Your jaw went slack in surprise and Mina exaggeratedly gasped. Even Bakugou paused writing and looked up at the screen confused.

“Where? Why?” Mina gripped her laptop monitor and began shaking it aggressively. “How?”

“McDonalds parking lot. He’s trying to make up for Prom getting cancelled.” Sero tapped his temple with his pencil’s eraser as he thought. “They’re staying in their cars with their windows cracked to avoid the virus.”

“That’s… romantic?” You said uncertainly.

“It’s fucking stupid.” Bakugou snorted, leaning against his hand. You stuck your tongue out and he made a mocking face.

“I forgot tonight was supposed to be Prom night.” Kirishima leaned back on his hands thoughtfully. You wished you could say the same. You looked over to the calendar hanging to your left beside your bed that had today’s date circled in red sharpie.

“How could Prom King forget?” Sero smirked, placing one of his books atop his head and leaning into crossed arms. Clearly, he’d given up hopes of productivity.

“I wouldn’t have won.”

“Literally everyone loves you Kiri. You were the only person people wanted to vote for.” You said. An unconvinced smile spread across his face and your heart dropped that he didn’t get to experience that love or recognition. He really deserved that moment.

“I’m just pissed I spent hundreds of dollars on a dress I don’t even get to wear.” Mina crossed her arms. “I would’ve looked so damn good.”

You looked at your own closet where your dress hung uselessly in its plastic store-bought bag to never be touched. You were sure there was someone you could give it to who would make some use of it in the future, but that just wasn’t the same.

“Who fucking cares. It’s all a waste of money,” Bakugou said uninterested.

“It’s not a waste.” You said offended, but he just rolled his eyes at you.

You knew Bakugou felt that way, but it still hurt hearing him say it. Perhaps it was because you had the pathetic fantasy that you could have asked him to go and he’d have said yes. Or because you picked out a crimson red dress specifically because you knew that was his favorite color. Or maybe even it was because you’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year history class and filled your head that this night would’ve been the night everything changed.

It didn’t matter anymore. The night was gone, and so were your chances with Bakugou. You’d just have to accept things for how they are. Your friendship wasn’t bad after all. You’d take late night videochats over no Bakugou any day.

“It’s a monumental moment of our high school careers!” Mina threw her hands up. “We go through four years of hell for one night of fun and the chance at a coming of age romance scene.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou stated. “Who honestly cares about that shit?”

You furrowed your brow. It was almost too easy to get worked up when you were talking at your laptop. That and being cooped up in your house for weeks probably made your emotions ten times stronger than usual. “Maybe I do.”

He blinked confused. “What?”

“Maybe I was hoping for a stupid teenage promposal and awkward slow dancing and cute stupid lovey confessions at a waste of fucking money dance.”

Mina looked all too amused at Bakugou’s stunned expression. Sero’s eyes were flickering around his screen while Kirishima’s head was directly downward to avoid confrontation. You felt your face reddening as the seconds passed.

“I didn’t… you aren’t…” Bakugou furrowed his brow and looked more and more stoic as moments passed. You quickly began regretting your comment. Just because you had been looking forward to prom doesn’t mean you had to force your excitement on to others.

“Bakugou… I didn’t mean to—”

“I gotta go.” He logged off the chat and you felt your stomach knot. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You shouldn’t have gotten upset that he ruined your stupid fantasies.

“I should apologize.” You muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Mina waved your comment off. “He’ll walk it off. Let’s watch a Netflix movie.”

The boys agreed and you exited the chat to pull Netflix up in a separate tab. Although the others were vocal throughout whatever movie Mina and Sero had argued over, you were absentmindedly zoning out at the dress hanging in the corner of your room. You really hoped you hadn’t ruined your friendship with Bakugou over something as stupid as a school dance. Even if you had been looking forward to it for such a long time, it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him.

When the movie ended you contributed as little as you could their discussion about what you’d watched and helped schedule the next big online hangout that weekend. When everyone logged out you took a deep breath and stared at the mound of texts and worksheets lying on the nightstand beside you. Reluctantly, you realized it was probably time you stopped avoiding the coursework you’d been assigned.

Thankfully, the moment you opened your Algebra text your phone vibrated on the mattress beside you. A sign that you were meant to procrastinate work one night longer. You slammed the book shut happily and grabbed your phone.

Bakagou: Look out your window

You read the message over several times before wrapping yourself in your comforter and crawling out of bed to your second-story window. When you pulled back the curtain to peer through the glass your jaw went slack, and your phone fell from your limp hand.

Beneath your window was Bakugou, standing in your yard holding a poster with ‘PROM’ written in black sharpie in one hand and a handful off daisies in the other, clumps of dirt still attached to the roots. He was dressed in a charcoal button-up and dark slacks, and his hair that had been a wild mess just hours ago was now tame. You stared confused for several long moments before hurriedly undoing the windows lock and pushing it open.

“What are you doing?” You shouted.

Even from the second story you could see his face turning red as he answered. “The fuck does it look like I’m asking you to prom!” He waved the half-assed poster around as if you somehow missed it.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the grin taking over your face. “But we don’t have prom.”

“It’s supposed to be symbolic.” His grip on the poster tightened to the point you could see it crinkling near his hand.

“I thought Prom was a waste of time?” You leaned lazily into the palm of your hand as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“It is, but apparently it matters to you so…” His scrunched up his nose and kicked at the ground. “Are you going with me or not?”

You started to chuckle. “Yes. Obviously, I’ll go with you.”

He looked almost relieved at your answer. “Thank fuck.”

You smiled fondly at Bakugou who stretched his arms above his head before a frown overtook your face. “This is so stupid.”

His eyes widened briefly. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of fucking time. I know the poster is ass and the flowers are from my yard, but it’s not like I can give them to you anyway so—”

“No.” You waved your arms frantically in front of you. “No, you’re amazing.” You clarified and a small smile appeared on his face causing your heartrate to quicken. “I’m mean this.” You gestured toward the sky. “It just wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

�� “How was it supposed to go?”

You felt your face flush. You stumbled over your words before deciding that he drove all the way here and if that wasn’t a sign you were meant to have a fairy tale prom night you didn’t know what was. “Well, first off you wouldn’t have to stay in my yard like this.”

“That does make it a little difficult.”

You nodded your head. “I’d be wearing my way too expensive dress. We’d get to take awkward photos and slow dance together and…” It was taking all of you not to turn away from his intense gaze. You urged yourself to continue. To finally say what’s been on your heart for years. “I’d probably tell you that I’ve been stupidly in love with you since Freshman year.”

You gripped the windowsill tightly to keep your nerves to a minimum, but the cocky smirk Bakugou gave you did bad things for your health.

“If we weren’t in a pandemic...” You added. “That’s probably how it could have theoretically happened.”

He nodded his head and chuckled. “And, theoretically, I’d probably respond by saying something stupid like I’ve liked you for a while too. Maybe I’d try kissing you if you’d let me.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks began hurting. “Well, hypothetically speaking, if that had happened, I probably would’ve let you.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou smirked.

You nodded.

You both smiled at each other and Bakugou ran a hand through his hair. You’d give anything to sprint downstairs and out your front door to tackle this boy in a hug right now. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to kiss him and the fact that you couldn’t was driving you insane.

“Well, theoretically, if I were to ask you on a date. What would your answer be?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“I’d say McDonald’s parking lot next Monday?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going on a date at a McDonald’s parking lot.”

You pushed out your lips in a pout and crossed your arms. “No fun.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously it’s a yes.” You rolled your eyes. How could he ever think you’d say no. Especially after tonight. “I’m just upset it’ll take so long.”

“We talk every day.”

“Not the same.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smile dusted his lips. “I waited this long. What’s a little quarantine gonna do?”

You weren’t sure your face could get any redder, but after that comment you were sure you had invented a new shade. He left that night resting a bouquet of garden flowers in your yard and a promise to see you in the distant future. You watched him drive off down your street, staring long after his car had disappeared. You rested your head against the windowsill, wrapped your blankets tightly around yourself, and continued to smile until the muscles in your cheeks ached.

Somehow, your prom night turned out better than you could have imagined.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #sero hanta #mha #quarantine au

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xmalereader · 5 years ago

Text

Javier Pena X Son! Reader

ONE | | TWO | | THREE

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: Javier has been keeping his son a secret from everyone, but what happens when he comes to stay with him for a week?

Warnings: Protective Javier and Steve, Mitch rapp, crossover, CIA, Mentions of Escobar, slight fluff and angst.

“How long have you had a kid?”

“Y/n, how old are you?”

“Your kidding me right?”

The three were driving back home.

Y/n was in the back while both Javi and Steve were sitting in the front; Steve was behind the wheel as he drives them back home. “I’m 18 soon to be 19!” He calls out with a groan and leans his head back against the headrest.

Javier chuckles at his own sons annoyance. “You’re still a kid to me, so you can say that your an adult all you want and that won’t change anything.”

The two DEA agents laugh as y/n continues to moan and whine, wanting to get home quickly and at least eat something before going to bed. He was dead tired from all the arguing they had at the embassy, of course the two apologized and had resolved everything but that doesn’t mean that it’ll stop y/n from starving. He could really eat another pizza right now. “Can we stop but and get pizza?”

“No, we have food back at home.” Said javi.

Y/n grumbled and mumbles under his breath. “Fucking, Party pooper.”

“What was that?” Javi’s voice was stern but y/n chose to ignore It. “Nothing just Really hungry and dying to get home.” His response came with a yawn, lying back in the back seat as he closes his eyes and allows the movements of the car, drive him to sleep.

Javier has glanced over to see y/n sleeping. “Damn kid sure is tried.”

“Javi, he’s your kid. You two haven’t seen each other in weeks.” Said Steve, taking a sharp turn as he heads up the hill towards their apartment building. “He misses you.”

“Murphy, you’ve only been a parent for like a week. How do you know much more than me?” He asks as Steve parks the car and turns to smirk at Javier. “That’s because I spend time with my family, something you should start doing.” He points Over to a sleeping y/n.

Javier glared at him as the exit the vehicle, he opens the back door and makes sure to wake up his own kid, not planning on carrying him inside.

Steve could only chuckle and shake his head before turning towards the entrance where he sees Connie holding their daughter, a worried look was plastered all over her face. “Connie? Hey what are you doing outside all alone?” He steps up the stairs to approach his wife as Connie holds their daughter close.

“Someone’s here, asking for Javi.” She whispers out and looks over Steve’s shoulder to see Javier holding up a tired y/n.

“Who’s that?”

“Wait, Connie who’s here?” Steve cuts in, Ignore her question, wanting to know what was going on. “Connie.” He says again, finally catching his wife’s attention. “Right, a guy came today asking for ‘Pena’ so I figured he was looking for Javier so I let him inside—“

“You let a stranger inside?!”

The commotion causes the Pena’s to look up. Y/n no longer tired as he sees the married couple bickering about. “What’s going on?” He finally mumbles out, rubbing his eyes and groaning.

“—Look I’m sorry! But I couldn’t leave some guy out in the streets of Colombia! It’s dangerous what was I suppose to do?!” Connie shouts back, causing their daughter to whimper in fright from all the loud yelling. Steve could only let out a frustrated sigh, calming himself down, not wanting to frighten his own daughter.

“Steve.” Connie whispers out his name. “He has a gun.”

This catches Javiers attention and approaches the couple. “Steve, it’s not safe in there.” He tells his partner who nods in return. Steve takes out his own gun and checks it to make sure that it was loaded, “Javi and I will enter first and check it out, we don’t want him hurting anyone.” He explains to them.

While y/n stands on the side, listening into their quiet conversations. He can’t help but roll his eyes and look around, trying to keep himself distracted. As he listens to the others talking amongst each other, a sudden shadow catches his attention from the top floor window.

Y/n raises a brow and looks up only to see the shadow disappear. He slowly approaches the others to warn them.

“—it’s too dangerous he looks like he could easily take you guys down!!” Connie was talking harshly, keeping her voice down.

“Hey guys, not to step in or anything but I think your so called ‘guy’ was spying on us.” He informs as Javier looks over to the balcony window and takes out his own gun. “Y/n stay outside with Connie.”

“What? No I’m coming!”

“Y/n!” Javier shouts at him this time. “For once, listen.” He adds.

Y/n stood in front of him with a glare on his face before huffing out. “Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and walks over to stand close to Connie. “But if I hear gunshots then I won’t hesitate to actually run in there.”

“Fine.”

The two agents get themselves ready, holding out their guns as they open the front door to enter the building. Before Steve could step inside first, y/n made a run for it and slips in first.

“Dammit, y/n!!” Javier shouts as y/n runs up the stairs, grinning.

He could hear the extra pair of footsteps, running up the stairs as Javier chases after him. Javi should know that y/n was a stubborn one and never followed the rules. Y/n wanted to help since he was planning on joining the DEA like his own father, he’s wanted too for awhile now and he’s been training on his own. He knows how to protect hismelf, his not a little kid anymore.

Y/n enters the Murphy residence as he quietly moves around and looks around, making sure that he’s prepared for anything.

As he slowly moves around the apartment he could hear his father and Steve approaching him from the bottom stairs, he knows that he’s going to get a scolding from Javier and they aren’t the best to go through. He’s dealt with a few ‘lessons’ and shouting no and then but they were usually for small things, like when he would get into fights at school or when he’s at a crime scene that somehow turned out to be a coincidence and how he randomly showed up their for no reason. He knows his father well enough to know how hard this scolding was going to be.

“Y/n!”

He hears Javier hiss out his name but y/n moves forward, ignoring his fathers voice.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing—“ before he could turn to five Javier a look he sees a knife coming towards him. “Watch out!” He hears Steve shout as y/n blocks the blade from stabbing into him. He uses his arm to block the knife again, moving backwards as the stranger moves swiftly towards him.

Y/n grunts as he’s kicked back, falling onto the ground as the stranger places the tip of the knife against y/n’s throat.

“Your too slow.”

Y/n narrows his eyes at the man and glared. “Yeah? Well your too fast.”

As the stranger chuckles, the two have totally forgotten about javi and Steve’s presences.

“Let him go.” Javier glares at the stranger as he placed the end of his gun against his head. “Javi, stop!” Y/n quickly gets up from the ground and pushes the gun away from the mans head. “Don’t shoot him.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Javier was standing his ground with Steve behind him, doing the same thing with his own gun and pointing towards the other.

“Just lower your guns now!” Y/n shouts this time. “You too Mitch!”

Mitch had pulled out his own gun awhile ago, his hand gripping the gun with his finger just under the trigger. “Mitch enough!” Y/n hissed out. “Why don’t we all lower our weapons and peacefully talk.”

The three gunned men slowly lowered down their firearms,. Javi clicks his back on to safety while Steve stood behind him and glared at Mitch.

On the other hand, Mitch was putting his own gun away and glanced towards y/n and then back at Javier. “Your Mr. Pena, Y/n’s father?”

“And you must be his famous boyfriend.” Javi says back.

“Okay, yeah; Mitch Rapp this is my dad Javier Pena, Javier Pena this is my boyfriend Mitch rapp.” He gestures towards the two and grins, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “This isn’t how I wanted you two to meet.” He says referring to the two pointing guns at each other. He knows how protective Mitch is and how protective his own father is and it drives him insane.

“Why don’t we sit down and talk, properly?” Y/n pleads out while giving his father and boyfriend a pleading look. “Please?”

Javier silently agrees, along with Mitch as the two walk over to a table and sit across from each other. He was leaning back with his legs spread open and arms crossed, glaring at Mitch who could only lean back in his own seat.

Steve eyes the two and turns to y/n. “As much as I would love to stay, I think Connie and I will be in javis apartment for the meantime you just—“ he waves his hand towards the two grumpy adults who sat on the table.

“Thank you Steve and I’m sorry for causing a scene I didn’t know he would be here.”

“Don’t worry just try not to kill each other.” Said Steve before exiting out of his own house and heading towards to check up on Connie.

The apartment grows silent which makes y/n feel uncomfortable. “Okay.” He sighs out and approaches the two. “First things first, why are you here?” He asks Mitch.

Mitch frowns. “Remember when I left before you did?” Y/n thinks back and nods. “During that time I was in Dubai for job that I was assigned, so once you came to Colombia I have already finished my mission and thought to myself, ‘why not visit my boyfriend since I’m alreayd close by?’ So I came here and arrived late.” He explains which gives y/n the satisfaction to nod at the explanation.

“Now I have a question.” Said Javier causing y/n to roll his eyes, hoping that it’s not anything embarrassing. “Who gave you the right to come inside our home? Huh, Rapp.”

“Dad—“

“No, yo hago las preguntas aque!” Javi shouts out causing y/n to flinch a little and sigh. “Papa—“

“No one, sir.” Mitch cut off y/n as he leans forward to get on Javiers eye level. “I came here because I have a right and since y/n talks a lot about you I heard that you work for the embassy and how you still don’t have a single fucking clue on where Escobar is, right?” Javier stiffens at this. “I didn’t just come here to visit y/n but to also help, that bastard has been terrorizing people from day one and no one else sees it but us but we can’t do anything about it because it’s not our job, well—I’m the kind of person who likes to break the rules so here I am, offering myself to help you.” With that, Mitch leans back a little to give Javier the time to take Im all the information.

“Mitch it’s dangerous.” Said y/n.

“I know y/n, but this is my job and I want to help get this bastard. Dead or alive, I don’t care.” Y/n bites his lip and looks down.

Javier stands up and rubs his neck, thinning about all of this, about everything that’s happened in only two days. His son has suddenly decided to visit him for a week, only for him to find out that he had a boyfriend who worked for the CIA and who is here now—not only to visit y/n but to also help the embassy with catching this bastard. He needed time to think, he desperately wanted to catch Escobar but this was all to much for him.

“Puta.”

Y/n looks At Javier and then back at Mitch. “I think we should call it a night, you can stay in my room tonight?” He offers Mitch his spair room but he shakes his head and stands up. “I don’t think your dad would appreciate that,” y/n whines a little and pouts. “Don’t worry, I’m staying at a hotel near by so I’ll visit.” Mitch grins at y/n and leans down to capture his lips into a deep kiss.

“Ey, ey!! Not when I’m here!” Javier calls out.

The two break their kiss with a groan as Mitch grabs his duffel bag and hands y/n the blade that he had a while ago. “Use it and practice.” He reminds him as y/n smiles. “I will.”

Mitch leans over to give him one last kiss before saying his goodby to Javi and leaving the apartment building. Y/n was standing in Murphy’s living room, clutching Mitch’s blade in hand as he slowly faces his father who was only glaring harshly at him with a disappointed look.

“Dad—“

“No, estas en muchas problemas.” Javier points a finger at him and sighs. “I’m calling it a night, you better be sleeping in your own room.” He adds as he storms out of Steve’s apartment and heads towards their own.

Y/n stares at the close door and sighs, looking down at the blade as he grazed his fingers against the sharp end and follows his father our, closing the door behind him as he quietly makes his way inside their own apartment.

#javier pena x son reader #javier x male reader #javier pena #crossover #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x male reader #male reader #dylan o brien x male reader #dylan o brien

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