#tyler rake

[beheworthy]

Tyler with Ovi in Extraction (2020) || Tyler with Nina in Extraction 2 (2023)

(requested by anonymous)

[syntheticavenger]

On My Mama - Three

A special thank you to @mrsmischief209 @flordeamatista @negronispagliato for helping with language translation and @cocobutterqwueen for cheering me on with the plot!

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader

Tyler Rake x Female Reader

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Jax Teller x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, breeding kink (brief), jealousy, angst, mentions of divorce, co-parenting.

Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.

“Mommy, look! They have horsies!” Mia squeaks, pointing as Santiago holds her close so that she doesn’t tip over, mesmerized as a horse gallops by the big window. “Daddy, do you see the horsies?!”

“I do see them,” Santiago agrees, kissing the crown of her head affectionately. “We have to finish the tour, mini.”

Sister Catherine Francis stands next to you, the school administrator smiling at the sweet moment between father and daughter. Admittedly, the tour has been impressive. Beside the stables, there is an auditorium, a gym, a play area much larger than the one in her current school and the student to teacher ratio is much smaller than you thought.

“Mrs. Garcia, I know you have some reservations about our school as Mr. Garcia told us,” Sister Catherine begins, her Irish accent strong. “I assure you, Mia will have the very best of care here at St. Mary’s. The curriculum here is outstanding and our students go on to Ivy League universities and abroad.”

“Curriculum,” you repeat, seeing her nod, anticipating your response with a tight-lipped smile. You’ve been peppering her with questions the entire tour, ever since she had mentioned she was pleased that Santiago had reached out weeks prior, calling you by your former last name, ignoring that you had mentioned that you were divorced.

Your cell phone vibrates in your purse, mumbling an excuse to step away for a moment as Sister Catherine approaches Santiago and Mia to discuss the details of the stables, asking Mia if she would like to know the names of all the horses.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” Tyler apologizes, your mood improving at the sound of his voice.

You’re grateful for the reprieve, even more so that he’s called you directly.

Santiago looks over his shoulder as you turn around, your back to him. He’s far away enough that you hope he can’t hear you.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just out with Mia,” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

After a pause, Tyler laughs, the sound making you smile.

“Listen, I’m being a total idiot about this and I’m sorry. How would you feel if I picked the place to go to dinner? I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“I think that would be fine. Should I be worried?” you ask.

“No? I mean, I hope not. How does Saturday sound? Seven?”

“Seven works,” you agree, taking two steps away from Sister Catherine. “Enough time to find a sitter.”

“Seven it is. We can meet there if that works?”

“Sure. I’ll see you at seven.”

“Perfect. It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

When you hang up, you notice that Santiago is closer now, Mia still in his arms as he looks through his phone for a moment. Sister Catherine clears her throat at the interruption, making you look up from your phone.

“Did you have questions regarding any of our curricula?”

You hope that doesn’t mean to be pushy, but it sounds that way, the nun clasping her hands in front of her, waiting for your answer.

 “Mia is five. She’s in kindergarten and doing well,” you counter, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “College is a few years away.”

“She’s a very intelligent young lady. We would nurture her intuitive nature, develop her into a strong young woman who would be readily accepted at any university of her choosing. You must start now, in her formidable years, to make sure she is strong.”

“She’s already strong.”

Mia runs over to you when her father puts her down, clinging to your legs as she bends her head back, looking into your eyes.

“I like it, Mommy!” Mia announces.

“You like what, sweetheart?” you ask carefully, Mia raising up her arms for you to pick her up.

She settles into your arms, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“I like the horsies.”

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” you ask, her head bumping against your cheek as she nods quickly.

“I want one, Mommy. Can I have one?”

“Horses are expensive, baby,” you tell her gently, Santiago standing close by to smooth down her hair.

“We can talk about it over lunch, hmm? How does that sound?” he asks, giving you a cool smile before he turns to the nun. “Sister Catherine, I cannot tell you how much we appreciate the hospitality and the graciousness you’ve shown me and my family.”

“It is my pleasure, Mr. Garcia.”

“We haven’t made a decision,” Santiago says carefully, looking in your direction as you hold Mia close. “But I’m sure either way, we’ll be in touch.”

“Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mia,” Sister Catherine says, Mia leaning over you to shake her hand.

“Bye!” Mia chirps as you force a smile, knowing that this isn’t the right time to say any of the thoughts that have filled your head.

“Thank you,” you reply to her, the nun nodding with a gracious expression.

“Of course, Mrs. Garcia.”

🌙

Mia chews on a piece of chicken, cut up expertly by her father as she colors on the paper placemat. 

Santiago leans back in his chair, sipping his glass of wine, silent as he glances from his daughter to you. As much as your irritation has grown, you know better than to argue in front of Mia. You’re also aware of the stare that he’s giving you, like he has more to say than he is letting on.

“I’m sorry for the surprise,” Santiago murmurs, placing his glass back down on the table. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” you answer back quietly, Mia still coloring, playing you no mind. “I know you want what is best for our daughter, but I wish you would understand that this would be a big change for her.”

“Of course it would. No more cafeteria food, no overcrowded classrooms, more attention on our precious daughter. I fail to see the flaws in St. Mary’s.”

“She knows no one there. She’s made friends, she has her own little social calendar now. She’s happy.”

“I’m happy,” Mia recites with a giggle, drawing a squiggly line in purple crayon.

“She’s five,” Santiago recites back to you. “Young enough to make new friends, build new relationships and settle into a new school.”

The server interrupts with the next course, lingering a little longer to ask Santiago if he would like something else, her arm draped over the chair. You pay her no mind, knowing that he won’t let this particular subject go, no matter what distraction there may be in his way.

“I think we’re fine for now, thank you,” he declares with an air of annoyance through a tight flash of teeth.

“I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” she says, moving away from him.

Still within earshot, Santiago’s eyes level with yours, looking down at his plate and then to Mia, who has switched to a green crayon, drawing what looks like two boxes on top of each other.

“A frog,” Mia announces to her parents, coloring diligently.

Before you have a chance to argue, his gaze settles on the server who is still close by, turning back to you with a disapproving stare before he finally speaks.

“Mira a Mia, nos tiene a nosotros igual con el mundo a su alcance.”

He raises an eyebrow after, his words settling as you frown, Mia’s head snapping up at attention.

“¿Que... mundo?” she asks her father, looking at him suspiciously, your eyes rolling as Santiago smirks, lifting her out of her chair and onto his lap.

“I forgot how smart you are, mini,” Santiago murmurs against her, moving his wine glass away from her as she reaches for it. “That’s not juice. Let’s get you your own drink.”

The nickname isn’t lost on you, Mia leaning against her father, rubbing her eyes. Mini, meaning a mini version of you, something he’s called her since before she could talk.

When the server finally moves away, Mia slips off of her father’s lap, running to you as she moves from side to side.

“I gotta potty,” she announces loudly, your finger going to your lips to remind her to lower her voice as she takes off running.

Independent as you know her to be, you also know she’s fast, following behind her. You know she has no idea where she’s going, mumbling out an apology to the tables that she passes, narrowly missing a server with a tray over their head.

She stops in her tracks, pointing as you reach her, following her direction.

“It’s Abel!”

True to her word, Abel is sitting across a table in a booth with a well-dressed woman, who you assume is Abel’s mother. She doesn’t fit the description of Abel’s mother, someone whose name Melanie has dragged through the proverbial mud. This woman, in her black pantsuit and perfectly coiffed hair doesn’t look like she would be an absent mother, especially the way she talks to him.

It is Melanie after all, you think, herding Mia toward the restroom. She’s not exactly known for liking many people, let alone someone who is that close to Jax.

“I wanna say hi,” Mia protests, looking over her shoulder before the door closes. “Mommy, let’s say hi to Abel.”

“After you go to the restroom, I promise we will go say hello to Abel and after you wash your hands.”

“And we sing the ABCs!” Mia reminds you, running into a stall and locking it.

It feels silly to think about Jax, especially with how the day has played out. Santiago’s surprise tour to St. Mary’s and your upcoming date with Tyler. Your plate is full and you haven’t even told Santiago about your date.

If you even want to. You don’t even want to know how many dates he’s been on. Not that he’ll ever tell you and you’ve never been bold enough to ask. A flicker of irritation moves through you when you remember Abel’s sweet little face, dejected after being dropped off without a gift. You know that it didn’t matter that he didn’t have a gift but children mimic their parents and their societal standards.

“I’m done!” Mia says, after stopping the multiple flushes once you remind her to not play in the bathroom. 

Dutifully she recites her alphabet when she washes her hands, the suds flying around the sink while you prepare the paper towels for her to dry her hands like a servant.

“Can we say hi now?”

“Yes,” you agree, Mia bolting out the door.

You stop in your tracks when Mia greets Jax loudly, seeing him sit across from the well-dressed woman. He’s traded his well-worn kutte for a button down shirt and black slacks, his hair slicked back, unaware that you’re close by when he scans the restaurant for any sign of you.

“Mommy!” Mia says, waving to you. “She’s right there.”

You tug your dress down when you walk toward them, Abel giving you a shy smile, Jax giving you a slow smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Jax says with a smile. “Mother daughter lunch date?”

“You could say that,” you respond, Mia eyeing the paper placemat that Abel is working on.

“You have to color the boxes,” Mia orders, your arm going around her to remind her of her manners gently.

“Abel can color them later,” you tell her softly, Mia shrugging as Abel starts to color in the boxes.

The woman smiles and you feel a sense of intruding on their time, quickly giving them a nod before slowly turning Mia back toward the direction of where you are sitting.

It’s family time, you predict, Jax giving you a curious look as you make a move to give them some space.

“Leaving so soon?”

“I wouldn’t want to impede on your family time,” you tell him. “Good to see you and Abel and nice to meet you…”

“Nice to meet you too,” the woman says with a grin, Jax raising an eyebrow before you march Mia back to the table.

🌙

“Busy schedule?” Santiago asks, seeing you fire off a text to one of the moms in the group text over a snack rotation schedule mix up. The drive back as been quiet thus far, ever since you’d gone back to the table and he had already paid, holding Mia’s tiny purse that she had insisted on taking everywhere.

“Just ironing out some details.”

Mia is fast asleep in the backseat, Santiago licking his lower lip in thought.

“If you need a sitter on Saturday, I’m sure I can have my mother watch Mia.”

“Are my conversations not private anymore?” you question, seeing a smirk play at his mouth.

“Big hallway,” he responds. “Your voice carries. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you want my mother to watch Mia?”

“I’d prefer to think about my options and for you to not eavesdrop on my conversations.”

“I told you. Your voice carries.”

You shift in your seat. It’s uncomfortable to know that he heard what you were saying, even more unnerving is that you feel guilty.

“Or you were listening. I don’t ask you about your personal life.”

“No,” he agrees with a shake of his head. “I’d answer anything you’d want to know. You know that.”

You sit in silence for a moment, your street coming into view.

“You want to date, I say go for it,” Santiago continues. “Would it make me a little jealous to know you’re scouting out potential men to find a partner? I’m human, aren’t I? I’d be lying if I told you I don’t think about how I should have put another baby in you. Those sounds you make for me, conejita… I crave them and no one can ever recreate it, nor have they come close.”

You try to move when he places his hand on your bare thigh, his hand warm as he slides it up toward your dress.

“So you’ve tried,” you shoot back, hating that you can already feel yourself reacting to him.

“Does it matter?”

“When you’re trying to surprise me with a quick decision on a private school that I was not given a chance to even think about? No,” you answer, placing your hand on his. “I’m still upset with you.”

“I didn’t say she had to go. It needs to be a decision from the both of us. I’m asking you to keep an open mind.”

“I will once I can keep a clear mind.”

Santiago smiles, a text popping up on his screen. Another woman, your eyes looking at the notification.

“Guess your calendar is packed too,” you shoot back, getting out of the car when he parks. “Not making a decision on the school yet. But we aren’t sleeping together.”

Santiago laughs, shaking his head in disbelief when he gets out the car to take Mia out of her seat.

“My flight leaves in two hours so I’ll put her to bed and you can take your time with your decision,” he informs you.

🌙

Settling Mia into her bed, he heads downstairs, finding no sign of you. Your phone is on the counter, a notification popping up as he hovers over it.

It’s a single name, one that he raises an eyebrow at.

Jax.

Even more curious is what he reads as he hears you come back down the stairs.

Not my wife. She’s my lawyer. 

🌙

It’s daunting, fingers wrapped around the wood, breathing harder than you ever thought. You’re aware that your last movement was less than graceful, afraid to step over the line, your hips moving to try to get into the right position.

“Do you want some help?” Tyler asks, the burr of his voice sending a tingle down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you answer, his warm fingers on your elbow, flexing your arm back and forth slowly. 

The sweet smell of sawdust gives you the urge to sneeze, the loud clink of beer glasses when someone hits a target and the raucous roar when someone doesn’t hit their mark gives you a sense of ease. There’s no need for perfection or expertise.

He’d met you at the door, your shyness on display when he held the door open for you. It wasn’t your first choice for a date, but your only comparison was the upscale restaurants that Santiago would take you to. Either way, you’re excited to try something new, the ax hard to throw but the adrenaline rush when you throw it is entertaining.

“It’s a flick of the wrist,” he instructs, standing behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle when you take a step back accidentally, trying to make sure you don’t disqualify yourself.

“It’s a quick throw but you’ve got to move with purpose, focus on where you want it to go. Ready?”

When you throw it, the ax sails through the air, hitting the top of the target. Not that it matters, you finally got it to stick, celebrating that you were able to hit something, rather than have it bounce off the wall.

As a first date, you’re still glancing at your phone as Laurie sends you pictures of Mia, feeling guilty for all of five seconds when you realize that he’s probably done the same. You feel oddly comfortable in a flannel shirt and jeans and a pair of sneakers for a first date. You’d gone through your closet while Laurie had come over to watch Mia, with it being Andy’s week with Jacob and she was more than happy to watch her as Santiago’s mother had last minute plans.

As a rule, you don’t engage with any questions she has, especially since she’s always hinted that you had made a mistake with your decision to separate and then divorce.

It was a good thing they were your decisions.

Your decision now is to try to not focus on how handsome Tyler looks when he focuses on the target, hitting the target each time. You’re aware of his politeness, the way he doesn’t get into the personal side of your history with your ex, keeping it light with Mia and Hunter and to your interests.

For the first time in a long time, you talk about yourself and your hopes and dreams.

And Tyler listens.

You don’t want to compare, nor do you want to put either of them on a pedestal but there’s something about the way he lets what you say sink in, nodding slowly and taking the social cue of when he can share his own thoughts and ideas. There is no fighting for dominance in a conversation, something that you aren’t used to.

“What?” he asks you after taking a sip of his beer.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly, realizing that you’ve been staring at his tattooed arms and how he smiles.

It isn’t the time to admit that you’ve been appreciating his physical form as well as feeling seen and heard.

“Ax throwing is harder than I thought,” you admit, stretching out your fingers.

“Does it hurt?” Tyler asks, reaching out his hand to you, placing your hand in his. “Sometimes you can get a splinter.”

He examines your hand, his fingers running along your fingers and palm, closing your hand into a fist and then unraveling it to hook your fingers over his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. At the contact, your face heats up at how gentle he is with you.

“Not a scratch or splinter from what I can see,” he says with a nod, looking into your eyes. “I’d say that’s a win.”

-

“I thought about leaving. Taking Hunter with me, moving to a new city and just starting over,” Tyler tells you while you walk along the pier. “It made sense to me, you know? Clean slate, we didn’t have to look back. Then he entered kindergarten and I watched him come out of his shell that I thought he would never break out of and I knew that I couldn’t do that to him.”

“What about private school?” you ask, seeing him shrug off his jacket as he slows his steps, placing it over your shoulders. You’re instantly warm, smelling the faint cologne left on his jacket. “Thank you.”

“I thought about it,” he replies, continuing to walk beside you. “I moved a lot as a kid, went to few private schools here and there but I never like I fit in. Didn’t think Hunter would either. Why do you ask?”

“I thought about St. Mary’s but…” you trail off, focusing on the waves that crash against the shore in the moonlight. “I think she’d miss her friends.”

“They’d miss her.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I want to make sure she’s well adjusted. I want to make sure that she’s happy and healthy. She’s made so many friends and I hope that I make the right decision for her.”

“Have you ever felt like you haven’t?”

Shaking your head, he nods in agreement.

“Then you’re making the right decision.”

“I feel like I could be better.”

“Oh?” he questions. “How so?”

“There’s always room for improvement.”

“Even now?”

His curious expression makes you stop, looking into his blue eyes for a moment. There’s a vulnerability there, a softness that sends a slight flutter to your stomach.

“No,” you answer. “I can’t think of any improvements on tonight.”

“I disagree,” Tyler responds, pulling his jacket that is around your shoulders closer to keep you warm, pulling you toward him slowly. “I can think of something.”

He lowers his head to kiss you and you meet him halfway, his lips on yours, soft and warm. You don’t want it to end, even if you know at any time you’ll both pull away. 

His cell phone vibrates loudly in the pocket, your soft groan barely audible when you break the kiss.

“Did you want to get that?” you whisper, Tyler kissing you again before you can ask him again.

“It’s the sitter. I think I owe her some overtime.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, Tyler holding you close by holding onto his jacket.

“Worth it.”

🌙

“You kissed him?” Laurie whispers, eyes wide as she perches on the couch. “Shut up, you did not.”

“I did,” you confess, covering your face. “On the first date? Is that even allowed?”

“Of course it is! I fucked my first college boyfriend on the first date. This is tame. Tongue or no tongue.”

“Laurie!” you hiss, breaking out into a fit of laughter. “This is absurd. I can’t believe I’m talking about this. It was one date.”

“One date where you went ax throwing with a giant. Not just any giant, by the way. Tyler Rake. The man is an enigma. I can’t tell if he hates the PTA or genuinely enjoys it.”

“I didn’t ask,” you say dryly, Laurie finishing the last of her wine. Your phone vibrates next to you, a message popping up that you check quickly before she notices.

Happy you made it home safe. Thank you for a great night.

“So… was he a good kisser?” Laurie questions.

“Do you ask this of everyone?”

“No,” Laurie replies honestly. “I’m asking because you’re my friend and I don’t have many of those because most people annoy me. You went on a date. That’s a start. How do you feel?”

“Weird.”

You don’t know how to explain it. It feels like you’re keeping a secret, even if it isn’t one. You’re a single woman, even if you don’t feel like it sometimes. Santiago is gone, jetted off to Spain for a trip. Probably with one of his companions, something you won’t ever ask about, even if he says he’s an open book.

It’s complicated in a way that it doesn’t need to be and you know it.

Laurie is right. This is a start of something. Maybe not anything that you know but enough to make you begin thinking that you deserve to be selfish for a moment, to think about what you want.

Whatever that may be.

“It’s okay to play the field you know,” Laurie says, getting up from her seat, picking up her wine glass to take to the sink. “It’s not a bad thing to make sure your bases are loaded.”

-

When you check on Mia, she’s fast asleep, buried under the covers with her favorite teddy bear at her side. Next week will be Santiago’s week and the pangs of longing already begin, even though she’s right next to you when you sit carefully on her bed.

Two more weeks of school and then she’s done for the summer, your baby girl going full speed ahead into the first grade once the summer is over, something you aren’t ready to comprehend, let alone even want to think about.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper, smoothing back her hair as she snuggles against her pillow. “I love you.”

Getting up to leave her room, you scroll through your missed messages, noticing one from an unknown number.

BBQ next Saturday. Adults only – Alcohol is provided. See you there?

You’ve seen the number before, scrolling through your phone to find a message where the number pops up again from a message confirming attendance at a school function.

Andy Barber.

[whumpypepsigal]

Extraction 2 (2023): “Multiple gunshot wounds. Airway’s secured.”

[dagoonking]

Chris Hemsworth (Entertainment Weekly) Cover

[drewvgue]

I NEED more tyler rake fanfics im not kidding I read absolutely everything I could find

LOOK AT THIS MAN OMGGGGG

[chickensarentcheap]

I FOUND: THE MISSING PIECES

CHAPTER TWO

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake x Esme Drummond (OFC)

Summary: A collection of requested one and two shots that cover the CANON events mentioned in the original “I Found” story. It’s not a necessity to have read it, but it might help.

Author’s Note:

This is a companion piece to “I Found”. When I first wrote the story four years ago, I had every intention of including ‘flashback’ chapters that weaved Esme into the events of Extraction. Sadly, I lost my confidence at the time and ended the fic before I was one hundred percent ready to do so. Which I deeply regret. In the time that has passed, readers have requested both 'movie canon-centric’ pieces and those that cover events between Tyler and Esme that were merely mentioned.

Please keep in mind that the pieces are NOT in chronological order according to the movie timeline or Tyler and Esme’s persona timeline. Instead, they are written and posted in the order in which the readers submit their requests.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy.

Love, Chickens

WARNINGS: SLIGHT SMUT, PROFANITY, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC PHYSICAL AND SEXUAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF CHILD DEATH

Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @watermeezer @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @kmc1989

@asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq @karimac

@arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @munstysmind @fanficanatic-tw @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

****

WHERE: GASPAR'S SAFE HOUSE

“Tyler?”

He teeters on the edge of sleep, his body exhausted and aching; a dull, throbbing pain that seems to travel from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.  He feels as if he’s lived a lifetime in a matter of twenty-four hours;  his flesh littered with abrasions, bruises and gaping, hastily tended-to wounds.  The silence surrounding him a welcome reprieve from gunfire and mayhem;  temporarily tucked away in that quaint safe house on the city's outskirts.  

The booze and the pain meds have begun to take effect; a haze and warmth that lower both his guard and his inhibitions and soften the chaos and the incessant second-guessing that have plagued his mind for hours.    But her voice -quiet and apprehensive-  somehow manages to cut through the layers of inebriation and exhaustion.  And when he opens his eyes and glances towards the stairs, he discovers her standing on the middle landing; illuminated by the couch-side lamp and the glow of the light above the stove.

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to come down there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He watches as she descends the remaining stairs and approaches, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her hair is loose and dishevelled from sleep; thick, dark tresses framing her face, tumbling over her shoulders, and spilling down her back.  Her tiny frame drowns in a man’s button-down shirt;  crisp and cool cotton in charcoal grey,  the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.  One of many offerings that Gaspar had left behind in a plastic bag on the kitchen table;  faded and tattered t-shirts and old jeans with holes in the knees and pockets and loose threads dangling from the cuffs.  With nothing appropriate for a woman -especially one of Esme’s petite stature- available, she’d been relegated to washing her original clothes by hand; tattered and stained by blood and now drying over a chair on the small back porch.

Despite the dim lighting, he can see how heavily body and spirit bear the toll of the day;  a slump to normally confident shoulders, a limp that replaces the normal bounce to her step. The sparkle of those dark eyes diminished;  now dull and lifeless from a potent mixture of exhaustion,  discomfort,  grief, and concern.   And when she stands in front of him, he can see the damage done to her pale, smooth skin;  a bruised and slightly swollen left cheek, a red and angry abrasion that mars her forehead and disappears into her hair,  and a small split to her bottom lip that appears sore and tender.

Yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

His hands find her hips as she steps between his splayed thighs. “You should be asleep.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“I’ve been resting my eyes. Here and there.”

“I damn near had a panic attack. I woke up and didn’t even remember coming here.  I didn’t recognize anything,  you were gone.  That’s what totally freaked me out.  I didn’t know where you went, and I thought maybe something bad happened and you had to leave us here or…”

“I’d never do that.   No one is getting left behind. Especially not you.”

“It just scared me.  Not knowing where I was.  Being disoriented and alone and…”

“I only left because I didn’t want to wake you up.  I couldn’t shut my brain off.  And if I’d stayed up there and just kept tossing and turning…”

She reaches out;  gentle fingertips exploring the bruises and wounds that litter his face.  “Are you feeling any better?”  

“A little.  The meds kicked in about ten minutes ago.”

She gently explores the cut above his right eyebrow and the abrasions on his cheek. “Did you take a lot?”

“I only took a couple.  Just to take the edge off.  Nowhere near enough to knock me on my ass.”

“I mean, I know it’s not any of my business; how many pills you take or how much booze you drink.  But…”

“We talked about this. A couple of days ago. About how it’s becoming your business.”   

 When their plans to travel together after the job in Dhaka had been made official,  they’d been accompanied by a conscious decision to turn his life around. Or at least attempt to.   There’s an optimism he clings to;  the belief that their immense attraction to one another will follow them into the ‘regular world’.   That it isn’t solely rooted in similar experiences and shared circumstances; their equally traumatic childhoods,  their time in the military and their failed marriages, the stress and the unpredictability of the ‘job’.    

 It’s the first time in years that he’s felt any sense of positivity regarding the direction of his life; finding himself no longer obsessed with wanting to catch a bullet or interested in drinking himself to death.  It would be the biggest mistake he’s ever made; turning his back on the second chance that lay before him.  And he’s determined to put the work in; wanting to clean himself up and give her the kind of man she wants, needs, and deserves .

“I worry about you.”  Pushing her hands into his hair, she allows the longer strands to slip through her fingers.  “I know you’re not to use that; someone giving a shit.”

He can’t remember the last time someone expressed any kind of concern in regards to his well-being.  While boldly -yet erroneously- calling herself a friend, Nik views him as both a nuisance and a commodity.  While none of the other mercenaries on her payroll come close to possessing the same level of skill and knowledge, his issues with drugs and alcohol often get in the way of her securing a client -and a mission- only he can conquer. Her friendship comes with a price;  relying heavily on his ability to keep himself alive and the cash rolling into her bank account.  And Mia had never been an affectionate or nurturing person;  lacking those traits long before their marriage had started to sour.  A byproduct of her career and upbringing, she’d always been rather cold and distant; expecting the man to be continuously ‘rock steady’ and admittedly ‘turned off’ by any show of softness or vulnerability.

His mother.   She’d been the only one who’d ever shown him that kind of care and concern.  Loving him unconditionally; with every breath she took and every punch and kick his father had rained down upon.  Continuously -and selflessly- putting herself…mind, body, and soul…in the direct path of his ire to keep her only child safe. Attempting to give him some semblance of a normal childhood despite all the bloody noses,  broken ribs,  split lips and trips to the emergency room.    It was the last time he’d ever felt loved;  the only person who allowed her to show and express emotion and experience moments of fear and weakness. 

Nearly three decades.  Since anyone has given a shit.  And it seems so foreign now; finding himself at the receiving end of even the smallest forms of affection.  

“It’s been a long time,” he admits.

“That’s not right,” she laments.  “That’s not right at all .”

Her hands continue to move through his hair; gently and repeatedly combing the dirty blond tresses.  He finds himself unable to take his eyes off her; transfixed by the tenderness that both touch and gaze possess.  The couch side lamp bathes her skin in a soft, almost ethereal glow;  highlighting the juxtaposition between the bruises and cuts that mar her flesh and the gentle smile that curves moist lips.  

 It takes his breath away;  her emotions -a mix of concern,  adoration, and lust-  written so plainly upon her face. He doesn’t deserve it; someone regarding him in such a manner, wanting and needing him to the depths and lengths she’s already shown.  And while part of him whispers to push her away and spare her the hurt that he’ll eventually cause,  an even louder and more persistent one screams at him to never let her go. 

A shiver travels through him as her nails lightly scrape along his scalp and down onto the nape of his neck; those small, delicate fingers dancing over his skin before deftly and easily manipulating the sore, tense muscles below them.  His eyes close; a sigh of both weariness and contentment escaping his lips as his head falls forehead and his brows rest against her.   It’s intimacy in its purest;  her touch soothing as he completely lowers his guard and allows himself a rare moment of vulnerability.   She won’t judge him for it;   won’t scoff, scold or mock upon discovery of a chink in his armour.    Not the type to view him as less of a man because of a show of weakness;  instead preferring to nurture the rarer, softer fragments that linger under his tattered edges and worn and weathered exterior.

When she gently tugs on his hair, he tips his head back and gazes up at her;  eyes riveted on hers as she affectionately strokes his ears and slowly traces the outer edges with the tips of her index fingers. It isn’t until she releases a sigh of her own and scraps her top teeth over her bottom lip that he physically reacts; his hands smoothing over the curve of her hips and down the sides of her thighs before slipping under the bottom of her shirt. He hears her sharp intake of breath when rough, calloused palms glide across soft, supple flesh. Sees the way her eyes darken when he traces a slow, methodical circle around her navel and gently tugs on the hoop that passes through it.  Feels both the shiver that passes through her and the goosebumps that invade her skin as his fingertips skim along the waistband of her simple cotton panties.

“This is wrong.”  Her voice trembles as she speaks. Barely above a whisper. “This is so, so, so wrong.”

“You could be saying  that about the last five days.” 

“I don’t mean that.  Us.  If there even is an us.”

His palms follow the curves and slopes of her ass and hips.  Finding himself amused by her disappointed pout when his hands slip out from under her shirt.   “I thought that was pretty obvious.” 

“I meant this. Here. Your friend’s place.” 

“If it makes you feel any better…”. His fingers tend to the buttons on the simple cotton garment. “…he doesn’t actually live here.  It’s a safe house.  He has no real ties to this place.”

“Always so rational.” 

Allowing the shirt to fall open, his hands once more find her hips;  fingers pressing into the supple flesh as he aggressively pulls her closer.  She heaves a shaky sigh and violently shudders when his lips press against her stomach;  her fingers burrowing in his hair as the tip of his tongue draws a lazy circle around her belly button and his teeth pull at the stainless steel hoop.   Her nails digging into his scalp when he presses a series of kisses along her abdomen;  slowly travelling from hip to the other, then stopping at the strip of lace that covers her pussy.  And nuzzling his nose against her, he can smell and feel the moisture that dampens the thin fabric. 

Her hands tighten their grip on his hair as he presses a line of warm, moist kisses across her waist; his mouth travelling slowly from hip to hip as his calloused fingertips drift over her ribcage.   It’s a power juxtaposition;  the softness of his lips paired with the roughness of his beard.   She’s overwhelmed by the things he manages to stir inside of her; a level and ferocity of want and need that no one else has brought to the plate.   On the good days, sex with Mark had been a chore; she merely tolerated it and certainly never initiated nor truly enjoyed it.  On the bad days, it was expected of her;  threatened and forced and punished -severely- if she had the nerve to say ‘no’ or push him away.   After the marriage fell apart, she’d sworn off all forms of sexual activity that involved a partner;  convinced she could happily live the rest of her life tending to things on her own. 

And then she wandered into the debilitated shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

A violent shiver travels the length of her body as his hands and mouth travel upwards.  Suckling and nipping at her collarbone while his palms cup her breasts;  a whimper escaping her lips when his thumbs brush against her nipples.  He reaches for her hair, his grip tight and unrelenting as he pulls her down into a kiss; his strength and power cause her to lose her balance and tumble into his lap. His hands aggressive and needy as they easily manipulate her much smaller and lighter frame;  settling her on his lap,  her knees on either side of him.

Both kisses and touch are rough and unapologetic. Bruising lips and duelling tongues as his hands dispose of remaining clothes and hers yank at shirt buttons and belt buckle and hurriedly open the clasp and zipper on his pants.  There’s no romance;  no extended foreplay, no whispers of adoration or praise, no tenderness or adoration.  And she audibly gasps when he pushes into her with one strong, fluid thrust;  her head falling backwards and her nails digging painfully into the bruises and cuts that mar the back of his neck and shoulders.  

He remains undeterred;  the pain is no match for the depth and the power of the want and need that take over every fibre of his being.  His mouth finds the hollow of her throat;  licking, sucking, and biting at the skin as his palms find the smooth curves of her ass.  Fingertips biting into the soft, supple flesh as he controls every movement.

****

They sit in silence; basking in the afterglow with her sideways on his lap and her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, both his arms wrapped around her. Her head on his shoulder; one hand resting on his side,  the fingers of the other repeatedly brushing the hair at the back of his head and the nape of his neck.  Clothes discarded earlier in haste gathered up and put back on; avoiding the awkwardness if Ovi awakens and wanders downstairs or Gaspar shows up unexpectedly.   His palm rests on the side of her left thigh;  fingertips repeatedly moving over the skin in slow, smooth circles.

“Tyler?”

He turns his face into hers, lips meeting her brow.  “Mmm?”

“Where should we head first? Where do you want to go the most?”

“What?”

“When we travel.  Once all this is over.  What should we put first on the list?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t really thought about it.  Wherever you want to go, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s it. Leave the hard work to me.   I’m terrible at making decisions. I’ll pick something now and by this time next week, I’ll have changed my mind a dozen times.”

“Why don’t we get the hard stuff out of the way? I know you’ve been freaking out about the idea of going back to Colorado and having me meet your folks.   If we do that first, you’ll be able to relax; have a good time when we go other places.”

“You know…” Esme presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “...sometimes you are wise.  So wise.”

“Are you saying I’m a dumb ass all the other times?”

She nuzzles the sensitive spot under his left ear with the tip of her nose. “Never.”

He’s getting used to it; her almost overwhelming need to give and receive affection.  She’s the first partner he’s had that’s been so needy in that respect, and decades of being touched starved has caused him to be standoffish at times;  unsure of how to react to her not being afraid to seek out physical contact.  But she’s patient and understanding and never takes initial resistance or hesitation as a personal slight.  After only five days, he’s both accepting and responding with much more comfort and ease; not realizing just how much he’s missed tenderness and affection.   And amidst all the chaos, unpredictability,  and fear of what’s to come,  her mere presence gives him a welcome escape.  The touch of her hands, the feel of her lips, and the smell of her hair somehow easing the weariness and the tension. Even if only temporarily.

“You don’t really want to go there, do you?”

“I want to see the mountains.  Go snowboarding.”

“You do realize we can  do those things without going near my family, right?”

“It was your idea.  To take me to meet them.”

“And now I realize what a shitty idea it is.  And no…”  Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his face towards her. “...you are not the reason I don’t want to see them.  I mean, you are .  But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“I’m not ashamed. Or embarrassed.  When it comes to how we met and how quickly things happened between us.   And it has nothing to do with who you are and what you do or…”

“Esme,  none of that shit crossed my mind.”

“It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.  I know what they’re like; I’ve put up with their bullshit all my life.  They thrive on bullshit and drama. Especially my mother.  Why would I want to subject you to that ? You haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of punishment.”

“Haven’t you been waiting your entire life for someone to come along and put your mother in her place?  Well, the time’s come. Now’s your chance.”

“You have no idea what she can get like.  Just how awful she is.  She’s a miserable, evil bitch.  And I can only imagine what kind of shit is going to come out of her mouth. About you, about me…”

“I’m not your ex-husband.  I’m not the type that’s just going sit there and let it happen.  She steps out of line, I put her back in it.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush the longer strands of hair off his forehead. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would.  Someone’s got your back now.  And she should know it.”

“My hero,” she playfully croons, and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin.

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.   I’ll let her know.  And I won’t be nice about it.”

“You really are a knight in shining armour.”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Knight in slightly tarnished armour?”

“I’ll let you have it.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence;  her head against his shoulder, the nails of one hand lightly and repeatedly brushing against his beard. His chin rests on the top of her head as calloused fingertips continue tracing random patterns on the side of her thigh and back of her knee.  And he’s once more on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; eyes flickering open, finding her staring up at him.  Those enormous dark eyes once more filled with concern, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Who?”

“Ovi.”

“We’re going to get him out of here.  Get him back where he belongs.”

“I mean after .  When this is over.  What happens when you do get him home?  His father’s in jail. There’s no one there to protect him.”

“ I haven’t stopped to think about that.  Yet.”

“Asif will never let him live. Think of the disgrace.  He isn’t going to give up, Tyler. He’ll go after him again.  And this time, things will end up so much worse.  It won’t be about money, or power, or influence.  Or disrespecting or embarrassing Mahajan.  It will be about revenge.  And you know what people like Asif are capable of.   They’re violent and depraved and the things he’ll do to Ovi…”

“This is why you couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“He’s just a kid.  He doesn’t deserve this.   And if there’s no one around to keep an eye on him…”

“What do you think we should do?  How would you handle it?”

“I don’t know.  But there has to be something, right? That we can do? That you can do?”

“Short of sticking around in Mumbai and keeping an eye on him until shit dies down…”

“Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

“Would you? Be willing to do it?”

“I’m not sure,” Esme admits.  “It wouldn’t be the safest place, you know? We’d all have targets on our backs.  Hanging around,  just waiting for trouble to show up? Not my idea of a good time.”

“What else is there? What other options do we  have?”  

“We could bring him with us.  We could put off travelling. Spend some time hiding out somewhere. We could take him to your place;  lie low in the outback for a bit. Or we could go to Prague. Stay at my place; just until we know the coast is clear and that  Ovi will be safe back in Mumbai. It makes sense, right? For you to be the one to do it.  I know there wouldn’t  be any pay at the end of things, but…”

“It’s not about money. It stopped being about that hours ago.”

“I just think it makes sense; that we take him with us.  You can keep him safe.  He trusts you.  And I think that…”

“You know what I think?  I think it’s been a long day.  And I think you’re tired and overwhelmed and you need to try and turn your brain off.  Or at least quiet it down a bit. I know you’re neurotic as fuck sometimes, but…”

She grins.  “You already figured that out, huh?”

“Less than a day into knowing you.”

Scowling, she tugs playfully at the hair covering his chin. 

“Why don’t we just let it go for now; cross that bridge when we get to it.  Because it’s been a hell of a fucking twenty-four hours and my brain needs some peace and quiet.  And I know yours does too.”

“I just…”

“Not right now, okay? Let's try and get some sleep.  We need it.”

Nodding in agreement, she nestles her cheek against his shoulder. Several minutes passing before she gives a loud yawn and once more sits up/

“Esme…”  Tyler doesn’t open his eyes. “ I swear to God…”

“I have a lot on my mind, okay? It’s really noisy up in there. And I won’t be able to sleep until it quiets down a bit. Humour me? Please?” 

Sighing,  he opens his eyes and slides a palm to the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair to gently massage her scalp. “What’s going on?”

“I need to ask you something.  And it might cross a line or two or trample on a couple of boundaries.   I know we haven’t known each other long and it’s kind of personal and you might want to tell me to mind my own fucking business, but  I’m just asking because I’ve been getting some really bad vibes and I’m nervous and worried and…”

He chuckles; her tendency to ramble when excited or nervous never crossing the line between amusing and insufferable. “Just take a breath, yeah?  It can’t be that bad.”

“It depends on what you consider bad. Or intrusive.”

“I think we’ve reached a point where nothing could be considered intrusive. Considering what’s been going on the last five days and just happened twenty minutes ago…”

“I’m only asking because I’m worried.  And a bit scared.  I…”

He squeezes the nape of her neck.  “Just ask.”

“How well do you know him?”

“I take it we’re not talking about Ovi this time.”

“Gaspar.  How close are you guys exactly?”

“We’re mates, I guess.  If we’re in the city, we’ll go out and grab something to eat, have a beer or two.”

“Would you say you’re solely ‘work buddies? That the only time you see him is if there’s a job involved?”

“Yeah, I’d say.  It’s not like we see each other regularly or we hang out when it’s our downtime.  I don’t exactly call or text him or shit like that, if that’s what you’re asking. Why…?”

“So you’re not friends friends. You don’t visit one another, you don’t know much about each other’s personal lives, you’re not on one another’s Christmas card list or…”

“I barely see the guy.   We’re work friends. Colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.  We won’t be visiting each other any time soon.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m being a huge bitch and personally attacking your friend or assuming bad things about him or…”

“Are you going to get to your original question sometime today or…?”

Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly, then chews pensively on her bottom lip.   “Do you trust him?”

“He owes me his life.”

“That isn’t what I asked.  Do you trust him?”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

She sighs.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“I can’t shake this awful feeling that he’s up to no good.  Something just isn’t sitting right; the way Nik was so resistant when you told her to call him,  the way he looks at me like he wants to throw me to the wolves, the things he says…”

Tyler frowns.  “He talked to you? When? What did he say?”

“He didn’t confront me or anything like that.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue. “ And it’s not so much what he says, but how he says it.  He won’t even call me by name; when he’s talking to you he calls me ‘the girl’ or ‘that girl’.   That’s not a huge red flag to you?”

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always been a bit of an asshole.” 

“Something’s not right, Tyler.  And I know you’re feeling it, too.  Nik never would have put up such a fight about calling him if she wasn’t worried about something. ”

“I think everyone’s on edge.  We’re sore, we’re tired, we’re…”

“You just said you’re not sure if you trust him. So you’ve got the vibes, too. I know you do.”

“Whether I trust him or not,  this is our only option.   I have more control over things here than if we’re on the street, constantly looking for a place to hide out.  Do you trust me ?”

“With my life. You know I do.  But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this.   The way I’m feeling.  Something is… off .  I can’t put my finger on what , but it is.  And the sooner things die down and we can get the hell out of here, the better.”

“If I start feeling worse about things…about him …I’ll get you and Ovi out of there.  I’ll figure something out;  find a place to lay low until Nik can get us out of here.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  And I will get you out of Dhaka.”

“Gotta get yourself out of here, too.  Remember our deal? Both of us or neither of us.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I have thought about it.”

“And?”

“And I can’t make any promises.  Not when it comes to that.  You know how bad things can go. And how quickly it can happen.”

She scowls.  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

“It’s the only one I have to give you.  Right now, anyway.  Are we done?  Did you get everything out of your head you needed to? Quiet things down a bit.”

“It’s a little better.”

“You’re safe, Esme.  Nothing can touch you here.  And if anything even tried…”

“I can’t pretend I feel good about this.  About him .”

“You don’t have to.  But for now?  Try and get some sleep.  It’s been a long fucking day.  And if you don’t settle down, shut your mouth, and close your eyes soon…”

“You’re such a sweet talker,”  she chides, and nuzzles the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.  “Let’s stay here a little bit longer.  Just like this.  I need it.  I need you .”

He obliges; wrapping both arms around her and pulling her even tighter against him.  Laying a palm on the back of her head, he draws it down onto his shoulder;  fingertips gently stroking her hair until her body relaxes against his. Her breathing softening and slowing as  she finally drifts off to sleep.

****

Despite succumbing to exhaustion, Tyler’s senses remain hypervigilant. Aware of the slightest change in temperature,  the softest of noises out on the street, every sigh and mutter Esme makes as she sleeps on the couch across the room, and each creak of a spring whenever she rolls over or adjusts her position.  His hearing is keen. Picking up on the rumble of an engine and the opening and shutting of a car door; a dog in the near distance barking at the intrusion.  

He senses the other man’s presence the moment he steps into the room; clocking the the shifting of floorboards beneath feet,  the rustling of a brown paper bag,  heavy, deep breathing, and a combined smell of cologne and perspiration.   He remains silent and motionless; not wanting Gaspar to be aware of his wakefulness.   The soft glow of the couch side lamp allows him to watch every move the taller, heavier man makes; his breath catching and his jaw clenching as Gaspar approaches the sofa.  

His hands curl into tight fists as Gaspar briefly observes a sleeping Esme,  then removes the throw from the back of the sofa;  draping it over and tucking it securely around her tiny body. Feeling both nausea and fury building inside of him when his old friend touches her; smoothing her hair away from her face and running a fingertip over the bruises on her left cheek and above her eye. And he isn’t entirely sure what he feels;  disgust, worry, rage.  Possessiveness, even.

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gaspar gives a small start, then an awkward chuckle as he turns away from the couch.  “You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.  Now answer my question. What are you doing?”

“The windows are open. It gets chilly at night. I was just making sure she was warm.” 

His body aches as he stands.  A throbbing that seems to spread outwards from his bones; travelling from the roots of his hair to the tip of his toes. Reaching for the sling he’d discarded earlier, he winces as he pulls it over his head, gritting his teeth as he settles his injured arm into place.   Approaching the couch,  he places his body between it and Gaspar as he reaches down to wake her; grazing his knuckles along her swollen and bruised cheek. 

“Hey…”  Tyler softly jostles her shoulder.   “...Esme…”

Giving a loud yawn, she stretches languorously and turns her face towards him;  pressing her brow against his forearm.

 “Tyler…” 

It claws at his throat and heart; the way his name leaves her mouth so softly and tenderly.   It’s terrifying;  what should have been a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement quickly -and effortlessly- becoming so much more.   She’s the first person to attempt to get past the walls he’d built in the wake of his son’s death; effortlessly managing to burrow beneath the layers of guilt and grief and regret.  Breathing life back into him and making him feel again.

“Esme…”  His voice is louder, pushing past the last remaining veils of sleep. “...you need to get up.”

Rolling onto her side, she peers up at him, concern immediately furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? Is there trouble? Do we need to leave? Do we…?”

“There’s nothing wrong.  No trouble.  Why don’t you go upstairs?”  Curling his fingers around her bicep, he guides her into a sit. “You’ll be more comfortable up there.”

“Okay,” she sleepily agrees, gathering the throw around her shoulders as he helps her to her feet.

Although Tyler notices Gaspar’s disgust when she briefly rests her forehead against his chest, he doesn’t hesitate;  placing his hands upon her shoulders and gently squeezing. “Try and get some more sleep.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“Alright.” Yawning once more, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes; wrapping the throw around her as she shuffles through the living room and up the stairs.  

Both men remain silent.  Until they hear the squeak of the bedroom door as it closes, followed by her soft footfalls overhead.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gaspar speaks in a harsh whisper.  Shoulders tightly drawn, eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and disgust. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and that girl . And whatever the fuck is going on between you.”

“Esme.  Her name is Esme.   And whatever’s happening between us? That’s none of your business, mate.”

“You’re my friend. That makes it my business.  What is wrong with you?  This ? This latching onto someone. Practically throwing yourself at their feet.  It’s pathetic; watching you trip over yourself trying to get her to even look at you.”

“I’m getting it just fine.  Without having to do that.   And when have I ever had a job like this?  Working with someone? This isn’t normal for me.  She’s not normal.”

“It’s embarrassing; the way you are with her.  I saw it the second you walked in here; needing to be near her all the time, always finding ways to touch, batting your eyelashes at her every chance you get.  When did you get like this? When did you get so soft ?”

“Keep getting on my ass like this and you’ll find out who’s soft.”

“You need to get your head on straight.  You’re a mercenary, aren’t you Tyler? Then start acting like a mercenary.  Because this ? Her ? It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s going on with Esme and I has nothing to do with the job.  And nothing to do with you .  So if you don’t mind, mate, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about her.  Or go near her.  Just keep your distance. Because if I see you touching her again…”

“Get your shit together!” Gaspar snarls.  “You want to get out of here alive? Stop whatever is going on with that girl…”

“It’s too late for that.  To stop it.  So just back off and…”

“Don’t you understand that I’m worried about you?  That I see what’s happening? What she’s doing to you?  Are you that fucking blind that you don’t see it?  She’s using you, Tyler.  She’s lying and she’s manipulating and…”

“She’s not. She’s not doing any of that.”

“It’s what she does for a living.  Did you forget that?  Why she’s even involved in this job in the first place?  It’s who she is.  In the same way being a mercenary is who you are. She cons people for a living. And now she’s conning you . Because you’re her only chance of getting out of here alive.”

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Do you think she loves you?” Gaspar gives an incredulous laugh. “Is that what you think? That she sees you as some knight in shining armour that’s come along to sweep her off her feet?”

“You need to let this go, mate.  Because there’s nothing you can say or do…”

“This is what she does, Tyler; what she gets paid for.  She wanders into people's lives and turns them upside down. She lies and she uses and she…”

“That’s not who she is away from the job.”

“It’s exactly who she is. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“You don’t know her, Gaspar. You don’t…”

“And you do? It’s been what? A week? If that?  You think you know who she really is? That she isn’t using you and playing you the same way she has so many others? Why are being so fucking naive? Are you that lonely? That desperate? That you can’t see what’s going on?”

“You weren’t there.  Back in that hotel room.  You don’t know the things that happened or…”

“Oh, I know what happened.  You’re a red-blooded male, she’s an attractive woman.  It’s not hard to figure out.  And it must have been really damn good.  Bceause for you to be so naive and so fucking blind…”

“...or the things we talked about.  You need to let this go.  I don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re doing it…”

“She is going to ruin you, Tyler.  She is going to lie and manipulate and tell you everything you want to hear. She’s going to keep whoring herself out to you so…”

His fists clench. “I’m warning you, mate.  Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about her at all .”

“Do you honestly believe someone like her would want someone like you?  That she doesn’t know what a mess you are? Look at her; she’s way out of your league and can do so much better,  Why would she want you ? All your baggage, all your bullshit. The pain meds and the booze and…”

“She knows I can change.  That I will change.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run off with her? When all of this is over?  You’re going to get out of Dhaka and the two of you are going to live happily ever after? That’s bullshit and you know it.  Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie; all the sweet nothings, all the pillow talk, all the promises.  And if you yanked your head out of your ass long enough to realize it…”

“I’m only going to tell you this once more.  It’s none of your business.  Don’t talk about her again. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.”

“You’re in for hell of a rude awakening the second you leave here.  When you finally realize that everything she said…everything she did…was nothing but shit.  She’s using you, Tyler. Doing whatever she has to make sure she gets out of here. And when she does, she will leave you an even bigger mess than you were before.”

Smirking, he gives his head an incredulous shake. “We’re done here.”

Gaspar snatches him by the arm, preventing him from leaving. “This is going to blow up in your face.  And she’s going to leave you an even bigger mess than you already are.”

“Mind your own business, mate. That’s the last time I’m going to warn you.”

“Two broken people can not come together and make a whole. It doesn’t work that way.  You know what happens? In the end? They end up making each other worse.  They destroy everything.”

[beeexx]

I was sleeping on Nik x Tyler in the first Extraction film but O H have my eyes been opened. I am INTO ‘man can’t express his feelings openly but his love language is acts of service and protection’. Their dynamic is so juicy and so good and like the silence speaks for what neither can’t really say and the fact that they are both clearly damaged people and yet, and y e t they clearly cares for each other. Like their LOOOKS it says soooo much. Into it, probably all on my own but I DIG IT HARD!!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Tyler Rake Drabbles & Shorts

“Baby, I don’t play games, and neither should you. Now, do as you’re told.” Each drabble is categorised under its own prompt.

“Lie back and let me lick this pretty little pussy until you can’t feel your legs any longer.”

“Little kitten. You know better than to make me tell you twice. Now, bend.”

“Bend over, sweetheart. Let me spank that pretty little arse while I fuck you rough.”

“We’ve been waiting for you. Now, take your clothes off and come over here.”

“Baby, I don’t play games, and neither should you. Now, do as you’re told.”

“You like the way my fingers feel, huh?”

“I’m tired, but not so tired that I don’t wanna be all over you.”

“I’ve never been tied up before, but if you’re the one doing it, I might allow it.”

[youjustcantrefuse]

Extraction 2 (2023)

[letthewhumpbegin]

Extraction (2020)

[gashofleastresistance]

EXTRACTION (2020) dir. Sam Hargrave

[beheworthy]

Bastard! Didn't even blink! Hey, man, you're crazy or what? There's no magazine in it.

[syntheticavenger]

On My Mama - Series Masterlist

I give you... my take on a rom-com.

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader

Tyler Rake x Female Reader

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Jax Teller x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, breeding kink, jealousy, angst, mentions of divorce, choking kink, exhibitionism kink, overstimulation, healthy co-parenting.

Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

[whumpypepsigal]

Extraction 2 (2023): “I’m not giving up on him.”

[tylersnecktattoo]

With no safety net-Chapter 1

Summary: Tyler, a black market mercenary falls for his friend’s cousin Amara. But how will it go when two people who carry so much shit from their past date each other? How will it go falling without that safety net?

Pairing: Tyler Rake x OFC Amara

Warnings: mentions of smut

Word count: 2.1K

CHAPTER 2

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CHAPTER 1: “tell my why I get this feeling?”

“Come on, we’re already late!” Amara shouted from the hallway as she finished layering her fragrance with some final sprays of her vanilla perfume and put her coat on before grabbing her gift bag.

“Okay, okay! I’m coming, woman, calm down” her best friend replied in a teasing tone as she checked her makeup for the last time.

Amara was invited to her cousin Dylan's get together. Normally, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hang out with him and his friends since the hangouts only consisted of her listening to Dylan and his macho friends talking about stuff she wasn’t even interested in, but she couldn’t let him down when she already had turned him down too many times before. So she brought her friend with her to be able to survive this soon to be, unbearable night.

Amara’s face lights up when she sees her friend finally coming out of the bathroom. “You look absolutely stunning, Court” she says as she hands her friend’s jacket to her

“Yeah as if I don’t have a goddess of a friend standing right next to me” she says back as they exit Amara’s apartment

“You’re still delusional, I see”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re pretty damn gorgeous but it seems like your dumbass doesn’t want to realize it” she argues back and gets in the passenger's seat once they reach Amara’s car. “And my name isn’t Courtney if you don’t end up getting a guy’s number tonight” she states as she raises her finger at her friend before putting her seatbelt on.

Amara lets out a snort as she begins to drive. “Getting guys at my cousins little get together is the last thing on my mind right now”

“Come on, you're 25 and you don’t have a boyfriend. That’s like, genuinely sad. And alarming. It’s been almost two years since Chris. You gotta move on, Amara”

“Okay, first of all, there’s nothing wrong with being single at 25. Second of all, if I decide to start dating again it will not be with Dylan's mediocre ass friends that can’t even hold a five minute conversation with me without pissing me off” she blurted before turning her puzzled face to her best friend, “And when did you start getting all therapeutic on me? I’m dealing with myself just fine”

Courtney just sighs because she knows that’s a lie by how defensive Amara is acting. “Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been through hell and back but you can’t let that ruin it for you. Not everyone brings bad luck with them, you know” She takes a pause before sarcastically saying, “What, you’re gonna let the severe trauma of losing your parents on the same day and having a cheating ex fiance going to hold you back for popping that pussy?”

Amara tries to contain her laugh that is threatening to come out because she’s supposed to be irritated at her friend, but she gives in with them both feeling comfortable with this level of banter. “I fucking hate you”

“Yeah, yeah whatever helps you sleep at night” she jokingly waves off as they’re looking for a place to park the car and finally find an empty spot. “Are you sure I look okay?” Courtney asks as she checks herself on her phone's camera.

“Tryna look good for the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi again?”

Courtney snorts out a laugh and playfully slaps Amara’s arm. “His name is Sebastian and yes. So last chance, do I look good or not?”

Amara takes a closer look at her face and smudges off some mascara that has moved its way to her eyelid and says her final words of assurance to her friend before they get out of her car and walk up to Dylan’s porch. Amara rings at the door, mentally preparing for a whole night of having to be social. Shortly after, the door opens and she’s met by her cousin and his excited grin.

“Long time no fucking see, cuz” he says and pulls her in for a short embrace before letting them in and giving Courtney a familiar handshake. He takes their jackets and hangs them before turning to Amara again. “Whatcha got there for me?” he says as his gaze is plastered on the gift bag in her hand.

“Just a little something”

“I bet on my whole bank account it’s a perfume set” he says and takes the bag to open it, to see that it in fact, was another perfume set. “I swear, that perfume obsession you got in junior year hasn’t left you for shit” he says as he holds out the Versace set.

“It’s not like you ever complain though?” Amara playfully says

He chuckles, “Touche. Thanks, really” he says and gives her an affectionate squeeze on her arm before leading them to the living room where everyone was sitting and chatting over the background noise of a football game from the TV, including Tyler. He had known that Dylan would bring his cousin and that he spoke very highly of her. But as soon as she walked in with her friend next to her, he was caught up. Dylan didn’t mention that she was so beautiful.

Where had she been all this time and why the hell hadn’t Dylan introduced him to her earlier?

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one being mesmerized by her beauty as practically everyone rushed up from their seats on the couch and went to greet her, but they kept it respectable though, because Dylan had indeed warned them to behave when she and her friend would come over. Many friendly handshakes and shallow hugs towards her and her friend later, he stood up from his seat to greet her too.

God, she was gorgeous. She had these black doe eyes that you just wanted to look at forever and the way her plump lips smiled as she greeted everyone and the way she had freckles scattered across her cheeks that made her face look adorable. And let’s not get started on her hair. It was the most beautiful and unique color he had ever seen, a mixture between copper red and brown that ran down so softly down her back. He was done for. He was down. Real bad. He finally caught her attention as he walked up to her, towering her by his 6 foot 3 height as Dylan introduced her to him .

“Amara, this is Tyler. Remember that Australian guy I talked about last time we met?”

“Yeah, right.” she said in a recognizable tone. “Nice to meet you” she shot him a friendly smile, locking her gaze with his.

Now, she was never a crushy person but she’d be fucking dumb if she said this man wasn’t fine. He was a hunk and he knew it. And he definitely knew what he was doing when he put that button down shirt on, hugging his muscles in all the right ways and revealing a bit more of his neck with a few buttons loose. Fuck, that trimmed beard too. She was a sucker for beards.

He shot her a smile back, with almost a seductive look on his face. “Nice to meet you too. You got a beautiful name”. He tried to stay as cool as possible so it wouldn’t look like he was genuinely going crazy like he was as soon as he got a closer look at her with that whiff of her fragrance too.

Yep, she was definitely interested now. She knew that wasn’t an innocent compliment and that deep, husky voice with his Australian accent was too hot to not be attracted by. But she wasn’t down that bad though, it would take a lot more than his attractive demeanor to get her to really swoon over him, or any man for that matter. And Dylan probably sensed the tension as he cut them off, not wanting to go through the same hassle that happens every time his friends tried to flirt with her as he thought she wasn’t interested.

“Alright so now when everyone’s here, let's sit down” he says as he leads Amara to the couch, not even bothering to include Courtney as she has made herself comfortable with her guy a long time ago, too impatient to wait for Amara. As Amara gets seated between Dylan and the armrest of the couch, she shoots a “I thought you were going to stick by my side?” look to her best friend across the room, who currently had the time of her life flirting with her charming brunette as she shoots back a “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna stick by your side and get in between whatever you and that tall blondie have” look, making Amara hold back her grin as she understood what Courtney was saying just by the look she gave, a result of them knowing each other too damn well for their own good. As she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Tyler just had to take a seat on the couch that was facing her sideways, being completely in her sight at all times. It’s like he was doing it on purpose, choosing the closest seat next to her, the armrests of their couches touching each other.

Oh, this was going to be a night to remember.

The night went on and Amara just sat there and listened to the conversation being spoken, occasionally smiling and laughing with everyone else, not being aware of the glances Tyler stole from her everytime she showed any sign of smiling just to see that dimple pop out every time on her left cheek. She was divine.

And Amara wasn't any better herself, giving him quick looks from time to time when he wouldn’t know she was watching and admiring his neck tattoo every chance she got. She couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to resemble as she never got a good look on it, but it looked like three stripes running up his neck sideways. Were they arrows, maybe? Well, whatever they were, it undeniably made him look hotter. So extra points for that. He just went from looking kinda fine to fine.

Other than stealing glances from Tyler, Amara’s night continued by just listening to conversations. Courtney had left doing God knows what with the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi and Amara just couldn't wait until she got home and started to regret that she even chose to come. She was never much of a talker anyway, especially not in front of many people and especially not when the whole room was filled with so much testosterone and boring topics that were typically guy talk. It seemed like Tyler wasn’t much of a talker too since he rarely talked. In fact, she hadn’t heard him fully speak since their interaction. Another few points to the hot Australian. She never liked it when a man was overly talkative anyway. Maybe he could get it if he ever decided to shoot his shot at her.

Time went by and people started to leave as she got tired of all the babbling and got up from her seat to go to the kitchen on the other side of the house so she could find some sense of peace and quietness, lying about going to grab a drink and come back despite Dylan stopping her and saying that the kitchen is too warm because some problems with the ductwork. Of course, Tyler saw this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to her so he decided to follow after her, but not right away though. He didn’t want to come off as too desperate even though he lowkey was. But she couldn’t know that.

When the right amount of time had passed he got up from his seat, leaving the living room.

“You’re also going to the kitchen?” Dylan asks him with a teasing grin while pointing his beer bottle at him before swinging it to his mouth, knowing exactly what Tyler’s intentions are. “Look, I’m not gonna stop you or anything but just know that my cousin- she’s no weak flower, and she won’t hesitate to put you into your place if she doesn’t like you or if you make her uncomfortable. She’s not easy”

Why did he find that extremely attractive?

Smirking, he made his way to the kitchen with his desire to have her stronger than ever. Usually, he’d go for the tall and blonde bombshells that he barely had to fight for. But there was just something about her that just drew him in and made him forget about the blondes he’d call beautiful, because their beauty was nothing compared to her. Fuck, she had only spoken four words to him and he was going fucking crazy for her. What the hell have you done to me?

——————————————————————

next part !

[alexa-mwll]

My top four current fictional crushes are as follows🦋❤😈

Thank you so much @welldonekhushi ❤

He introduced them to some they already know😈

Vladimir Makarov, Phillip Graves, Albert Wesker and Tyler Rake.

Those four are my papis, I pray to them 🤣🤷‍♀️🛐

Tagging: @cyberghostdraws @alypink and any friends who want to join ❤🦋