#when i'm not feeling like i got run over by a truck

[starboye]

Ooh I love shy reader and dealer!rafe. What about rafe finally sees the reader again at the party but some guy has the reader against the wall and is just kissing the reader all over his neck and lips. I KNOW rafe wouldn't be too happy 🤭

it had been some time since the whole thing with you and rafe at your apartment, surprisingly he didn't try to fuck and dip but instead stayed and comforted you through your high time and then left all together which surprised you

now you got high every other weekend when things got to stressful and hadn't seem rafe in a week or two... alright fine four weeks but rafe still thought of you almost everyday, mainly when he was also high and couldn't get your shy face out of his mind

but now you had to go back to one of his wretched parties to get some more weed from him, walking in to find everyone sloppy drunk and partying, rafe said he would be here by now but he still hadn't shown up and you were getting more nervous by the second and just as you were about to leave a man leaned on the wall next to you

"you waiting for rafe"

"mhm"

"well he's not gonna be here for another 20 minutes or so,he's handling some business"

fuck why did this have to happen to you, why couldn't he just be here when you got here then you could've just been out by now but at least the man was here to keep you some company

"want a drink"

he held a drink out for you but you were a little nervous, having never have a alcoholic drink you were a little adamant on not drinking it but with some persuasion from the man you were chugging down some vodka that stung the back of your throat like hell

and somehow as the fucking light weight you were you got tipsy immediately, stumbling over your feet a little before landing in the mans are where you leaned in to kiss him for some reason still unknown to you (from now on you should be kept on a leash when drunk)

the kiss quickly turned into you pinned on the wall getting you necked kissed and littered with hickeys, your hands running through his hair, if no one was there i'm sure you would've slept with the man but luckily rafe showed up and pulled you from the man and into some room

"what the fuck y/n i don't show up for 20 minutes and you try sleeping with some random dude"

"m'sorry rafe i jus' feel so warm and fuzzy inside"

rafe was wondering what the fuck was wrong with you, but with a smell of your breath he could tell you were drunk, which means no weed for you

"what no, please i just need a little bit"

"you're drunk call an uber and go home"

"i lost my phone"

you were tipping and stumbling all over the place and rafe knew he would have to take care of you, picking you up and carrying you to his truck to drive you back to your apartment, grabbing your keys from your fumbling palms to open the door for you

"why don't you come in"

"nah m'good"

"that wasn't an offer"

you dragged him in and kissed him, rafe reciprocating a little rougher and deeper as you lead him to your room, continuing to make out on your bed, just as you begin to take your clothes off you fall asleep on his chest

"this fuckin' light weight"

each time rafe tried to move from under you you groaned forcing him to stay in that spot all night with you sleeping on his chest, he sorta hated it but at least he got to hear your cute sounds as he drifted to sleep

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 3- Monster Truck

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a truck-stealing creature, not scary movies, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

"A sleepover, Stanley, can you believe it?" Ford beamed as he screwed in another bit of plating on his magnet gun, Test Design #1. Lucky that the attic that had been turned into their room had a bunch of stored random stuff he could use. He'd cleaned up a bit in preparation for tonight, made more space. "We've never had one before!"

"What's all the 'we' about?" Stan flicked through one of The Grimdark Chronicles comics, lying on his bed. Ford had gotten the first one in the series because he thought he'd like the supernatural mystery story, but it was just depressing. Stan seemed to like it though, at least. 

Maybe it could get him to start drawing again? Ford missed reading Lil Stanley, it was funny. 

"Sixer?"

"Oh. Sorry." Zoned out again, too stuck in his head. It kept happening. "I just mean- we've never had friends to have a sleepover with? Aren't you excited?"

"They're your friends, poindexter," Stan rolled his eyes and munched on toffee peanuts. Ford had been trying to get him to store his food in the kitchen, where food was supposed to be stored, but Stan was convinced something was eating them. It was probably Grunkle Dipper. "Why would I be excited?"

"I- because-" didn't Stan want a sleepover? "What's going on with you?"

"Nothin'." Stan flicked a page of the comic and offered the bag of snacks. “Want one?”

"No, I don’t want a toffee peanut! Something's going on with you!" Ford knew it, he knew it- "First you don't wanna go to a party even though we've never been to one, now you don't want a sleepover? These are normal things boys our age do, it's exciting."

Stan sighed and closed the comic, sitting up and stretching. "Yeah, for you, maybe. Bet you're gonna do a whole buncha nerdy stuff. No thanks."

Ford pouted. "C'mon, Stanley, you could at least give it a try. Tad said he'll bring over his MonsterMon cards and his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons kit. I've always wanted to play those." But dad thought they were frivolous.

"You know that stuff's got too much math for me," Stan laughed. 

"I could help you with the math!" Why didn't Stanley want to play with him? "Are you mad at me?"

Okay, now Stanley was looking at him like he was being dumb. Which was weird, because he normally made that face at Stan. Being on this end of it was not normal. 

"What? I'm not mad at you, doofus." 

"Then what are you mad at?" It had to be something. 

"Hot Belgian Waffles, I'm not mad at anything," Stan rolled his eyes. "You gotta stop overthinking things."

"But I-" was that what he was doing? He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket, pulling them over his hands a bit. "Hm."

"Told ya." Stan shrugged.

"What are you gonna do instead then?" The idea of Stanley being alone didn't feel right. Maybe he still felt guilty for ditching Stan at the party.

"I was gonna ask Grunkle Dipper if I could watch one of his old horror movies he's got beside the TV."

"Stanley, those are scary!" And absolutely none of them were PG-rated. 

"I know, right?" Stan's eyes sparkled. "Maybe he'll let me watch one of the really scary ones."

Ford pulled a face. "Then I'm definitely not joining you."

"Yeah, I figured," Stan snickered and hopped down off the bed, stuffing his toffee peanuts in his vest with a singsong. "Doo-dilly–doo, hidin' my snacks- You comin'?"

"Where?"

"To let your friends in?" Stan looked at him with That Face again. "It's four pm already, nerd."

"Oh my gosh, is it really?" Ford jumped to his feet like he'd been shocked and ran downstairs, nearly tripping over his extra toes in his haste to get to the door.

He adjusted his glasses and pulled it open, beaming wide at Tad and Fiddleford, Fiddleford's hand raised as if to knock. "Hi! You got the right door!"

"The gift shop entryway looked crowded," Fiddleford smiled, a banjo in his other hand. 

"Hi. I brought various activities." Tad lifted the boxes in his hands to show them off, and Ford forgot completely about everything else because there it was: Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons! 

Finally, he could put all those ideas he had for characters and enemies and dungeons into play! He'd done so much research!

"Come in!" He held the door open for them. "You've met my brother Stanley-"

"It's 'Stan' to you guys," Stanley leaned against the wall, jumping when Dipper leapt into the room, in full Mr Mystery gear, fists raised in a fighting stance.

"I heard intruders and I know Dan's fixing my truck! Come get some!"

"... and that's our Grunkle Dipper." Ford sighed. "Dipper, you said I could have a sleepover yesterday, remember?"

"Oh." Dipper relaxed from his fighting stance and scratched the back of his neck. "I did?"

"Yep. You were sleeping in your truck before though, mighta forgot." Stan confirmed. 

"Well." Dipper looked like he was processing before he waved at Tad and Fiddleford. "Hi, I'm Dipper Pines."

"Hello."

"Aft'rnoon."

"You both live in town?" Dipper joined Stan in leaning against the wall, scanning both of Ford's friends in interest. What was he looking for?

"I'm from Tennessee. Got sent up here to stay with my pa Tate on account of-" Fiddleford paused. "Reasons."

"Wait, the lake guy?" Dipper tilted his hat up. "Huh. I'm banned from renting boats there."

"Yeah… your picture's up on the 'banned forever' wall beside Old Lady Chiu's."

"Okay, we're gonna go set up, thank you!" Ford tried to rush his friends past his weird Grunkle. "Our room's up this way."

"Don't touch my stuff, poindexter," Stan reminded him before he turned. "Grunkle Dipper-"

#

"- can I watch one of your scary movies?" Stan asked, certain he'd get a yes. Dipper was pretty 'free-range' in his guardian style. 

Dipper stared up the stairs. "Was that kid holding D, D, & More D?"

"Yeah, Ford's always wanted to play it," Stan shrugged. "What a nerd, amirite?"

"Oh, I love that game," Dipper blinked a few times before he seemed to zone back in. "What was the question again?"

Stan groaned and smacked his forehead. Really? "I wanna watch one of your horror movies while my brother's having a sleepover. Can I?"

"You don't want to play with him and his friends?" Dipper's brows did that furrow they did every time he got puzzled. He seemed to do it a lot when talking to Stan and Ford. 

"Nah." Stan shrugged it off, stuffing his hands into his pockets and staring at an old stain on the floor. "His friends, after all. I don't really like all that stuff anyway." 

He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't angry. Just wasn't happy either. He and Ford were supposed to do everything together, they weren't meant to have anyone but each other. But Ford did now, he had friends, and Stan wanted to be a good brother, be happy for his brother's success, like always. Ford succeeded and Stan stayed outta the way, that was how dad preferred things.  He could do that. He and Ford could hang out another time. Stan was no leech.

Dipper knelt down to his level and put a hand on his shoulder. Stan tensed a bit, just because. He wasn't big on touch, he and Ford just weren't. 

"Hey. I get it." There was a faraway look in Dipper's eyes before he focused. He and Ford both did that a lot, got stuck in their heads. "How about this: I gotta go give a tour before I close down for the day, so how about you go and get Dan to show you some car stuff, and after dinner you can pick a movie and I'll watch it with you. They're better when it's dark anyway."

Stan perked up. "You wanna watch a movie with me?" And not play Ford’s nerd game he said he liked?

"Kid, they're my movies," Dipper laughed. "Like heck I'm missing a chance for a rewatch."

"You got yourself a deal," Stan grinned and stuck out his hand to shake. 

Dipper's whole body retracted like a mollusc Stan once saw on Glass Shard Beach, staring at Stan's offered handshake like he was going to be sick, before he put on a smile and ruffled Stan's hair instead. “Now go bother Dan."

"Okay." Stan grinned toothily and grabbed his sneakers, pulling them on and running outside, past the remaining tourist cars still in the dirt patch that was technically a parking lot. Some of the cars were nice, he thought, if he knew cars. 

He didn't know much beyond what Shermie had told him, but it sounded like knowing cars was a cool thing. Not only that, but Shermie finally buying his car with his own money had been the first time Stan saw what freedom looked like on someone else's face. Stan's freedom might have been a boat and a promise to sail away, but cars could be a good Plan B. 

Boyish Dan was elbows deep in Dipper's truck, flannel sleeves rolled up his biceps. He had to be the only sixteen-year-old Stan knew with a beard. He was huge. 

"Hi, Dan." He still didn't know how to talk to this guy. He seemed loud. "Grunkle Dipper said you're working on his truck?"

“Yeah!” Dan grabbed him with one hand and hefted him up onto his shoulder, no hesitation or strain in it.

Stan laughed in disbelief and waved his arms to keep his balance. "Jeez Louise- what do they feed you out here, Dan? I'm not that tiny!"

"Yeah, you are!" Dan grinned at him through the beard, a gap between his front teeth. This close, it looked a little wispy in places, but still. It was a beard. Stan didn't have one, didn't even have stubble. "Don't feel bad, Mr Pines ain't the biggest guy 'round either, but he's definitely the best!"

"Yeah, I'm curious about that," Stan admitted bluntly. "You're like, some sorta hardcore woodsman, right?"

"Whole family is!" Dan boasted proudly. "You seen that big mansion on the hill? Us Corduroys cleared that whole mountain and built it hundreds'a years ago!"

"Wow, so it's like, in your blood. Hardcore."

"Yeah, but my uncles are kinda weird about it." Dan's volume dropped to a normal speaking level, something Stan wasn't sure was possible. "They drive my mom crazy, always yellin', doing stuff just 'cuz they think it's manly. I love 'em, but I don't wanna stress out my mom too. And Mr Pines is the manliest guy in town and he doesn't do that stuff!"

"You think my uncle's manly?" He listened to girly music and did all the cooking. That wasn't very manly by Pines standards. 

"Listen, little man!" Dan closed the hood of the truck, lifting Stan to stand on it. He still wasn't sure about being lifted around in one hand like a kitten, but it was also super cool, so he could live with it. "Mr Pines is the smartest, toughest, strongest, bravest, MANLIEST man in Gravity Falls! And if he hadn't told me not to punch people for saying otherwise, I'da punched everyone in town who does! But I don't gotta punch 'em, because being a man isn't about throwing your weight around just because you can!"

"It's not?" Stan blurted out. Dad threw his weight around all the time. He had so much weight that all it took was a word sometimes. 

"NO!" Dan paused and cleared his throat. "Sorry. Workin' on a 'inside voice'. My uncles think that way sometimes. The Gleefuls think that way. But I ain't seen them take on a manotaur without blinking!"

"A what?" Did he say that right? Wasn't that one of Ford's myth stories? Stan didn't remember.

"I said what I said! Bein' a man's 'bout a lot more than flexing muscles and thinkin' you're the best 'cuz of it!"

"Is that why you work for him?" Stan still wasn't sure how Dipper was meant to be any of that stuff Dan said. 

"Yeah! And my mom thinks it'll be good for me, said a job might make me chill out!"

"You can tell her it's working." Stan couldn't resist a little sarcasm. 

"Yeah!" Dan threw his meaty fists up in the air. "So you ready to learn about trucks, little man?!"

"You kiddin'? 'Course I am- uh, big guy!" Dan was kinda weird, but not bad weird. Fun weird. He scrambled back onto Dan's shoulders as Dan opened the engine up again, and decided to be nice in return. "Hey, want a toffee peanut?"

He pulled out the bag of toffee peanuts and shook it in offer, a few crumbs falling into the truck. 

He didn't see a tiny three-fingered hand reach out from beneath the engine block and pull them in.

#

"Wow, you even have minifigures!" Ford's eyes were huge behind his glasses. 

"I do," Tad smiled serenely, setting out all his D,D, & more D stuff. "I'm not very good at being a dungeon master though. Would either of you like to take the role?"

Ford wanted to, so so bad, but- "Fiddleford?"

"Gracious, no, I'm fine being a player. Too much to keep track of," Fiddleford looked around Ford's room in interest, steering clear of Stan's stuff that Ford pointed out. Stan did ask them to stay outta it. "I like all the splinters."

"You sound like Stan," Ford laughed. "I hate splinters. You know- yesterday Waddles Jr. was on my bed? Sometimes Grunkle Dipper lets him in the house."

"Pigs are very affectionate creatures," Fiddleford smiled fondly, poking at the stained glass window. The window had a strange design, arrows and diamonds and circles. It looked a little like an anchor, but definitely wasn’t. "I like the design here, very intricate. Looks freshly put in?"

"Yeah, a lot of the windows are new," Ford had noticed as well. "Not sure why they all need to be Waddles-themed or question marks or whatever that thing is, you'd think he could keep the branding to the tourist part of the house."

"There's a recurring issue with property defacement in town." Tad noted, setting out all his dice in neat rows. "People find windows broken and scratches in buildings or landmarks. Very strange. Perhaps Mr Mystery was the most recent victim."

"Really?" Ford reached for the diary. If Fiddleford and Tad were going to tease him on it they would have done it already. "There's no mention of that in this diary."

"I was meaning to ask about that there book of yours," Fiddleford crossed his legs as he sat down. "What is it?"

"It's a diary of someone who came to Gravity Falls, I think they were… maybe a researcher?" It was ambiguous. "But they catalogued all of the weird supernatural stuff here, it's fascinating. And the pages stop halfway through, it's so cool!"

"Gravity Falls is quite unusual," Tad smiled, pulling emergency bread from his backpack. "My parents moved here from the Southwest, they quite like how it reminded them of their old town. Personally, I like how unique it is."

"So you grew up here? Maybe you know some stuff the diary missed?" 

"Maybe," Tad shrugged with a smile. "We'll compare some time."

"I'm not very fond of all that spookifying stuff myself." Fiddleford reached for his banjo, plucking the strings in a random pattern. "Back in Tennessee my family would tease me a lot, make up scary stories about things, things that sound like people but aren't, things that live in the fields and watch you, things that take the pigs in the night. Fake stuff, I told myself. But- I swear I saw somethin' in the lake here one time, somethin' big."

"Really?" Ford pulled out a pen. "Where did you see it? Did you get a look at any defining traits?"

"No. I wish I could forget it," Fiddleford sighed and tuned a banjo string. "I don't handle that type of things very well."

"That's okay," Ford hesitated before he patted Fiddleford's shoulder. "You just like other types of science better than cryptozoology, I guess."

"We can phrase it that way, sure," Fiddleford stated dryly. "You sure your brother doesn't want to join us?"

"Nah, Stan said he doesn't wanna play. Je and Grunkle Dipper are gonna watch a movie instead." Ford started setting up D, D, & more D. "Maybe after this you could give me some pointers on my magnet gun idea?"

"Sure can."

Ford smiled as Tad set down a figurine on the graph paper, and rolled the 38-sided die across the back of his fingers, blushing only a little when he fumbled it. He just had to practice.

Fiddleford and Tad were fun to play with, making good use of a Rogue/Cleric duo as they began working through the starter adventure provided by the guide. Ford grew more confident, starting to put his own spin on things, add in new enemies, build towards a twist in the plotline. 

They had just cleared their third encounter, a group of coldbolds with a surprise buzzbear from Ford drawn by the noise, and had entered the main starter dungeon when Boyish Dan threw open the door and yelled, "The truck! Ate! Stan!"

Ford dropped the handful of dice he was holding. "What?!" 

"I was showing him how to check tire pressure!" Dan pulled off his hat, clutching it in massive hands. His knuckles were raw and red. "I tried punching it and it didn't give him back!"

"Can you get Mr Mystery?" Tad smiled brightly. 

"He's doing a tour, he's doing a tour now." Dan fumbled with his hat. "Help?"

"Yes!" Ford yanked his shoes on. He couldn't even be mad that Stan had interrupted his sleepover and his game. How did a car eat someone? "Boyish Dan, did you see anything strange?"

"The back of the truck grew a trunk lid! And scales!"

"Scales…" Ford flipped through the diary. "Here! Gremobiles, it's a type of gremlin- they're a subspecies of the goblin family- that can meld with a vehicle, the author had to fight one that stole a bus and had to rip it out of the engine block." The caricature of the angry monster was super funny, the author gave it a silly face.

"How?" Fiddleford looked over his shoulder, scanning the page as well. 

"Grappling hook, apparently." Ford put the diary away. "If my magnet gun was finished I'd use that-"

"I can finish it," Fiddleford promised and pulled out his tools from his belt. "Go get your brother."

"Tad Strange would welcome the excitement of fighting a living vehicle." Tad grabbed a baseball bat from the pile of random stuff that the twins shared the attic with and gave it a twirl.

"Let's go." Ford nodded at him and Dan and rushed down the stairs, past the museum area of the house.

"Behold!" Dipper's voice was muffled by the closed door. "Genuine cursed pirate gold! Look at how the coins turn invisible when removed from the water! Who wants to try and grab a coin? Twenty bucks if you do!"

Ford scoffed at the shameless scam and followed Boyish Dan out to the dirt parking lot, looking for the offending Gremobile. 

Dipper's truck did not look like it was supposed to. The faded blue paint had been replaced by green-brown scales, the hood popped open to show the top half of the little monster fused with the engine block. The headlights glowed red and the back, normally open, had more of those scales, grown over the open space. The lil monster had a mohawk, shoving something in its mouth and chomping away. Ford recognised the packaging. 

"Toffee Peanuts. That must have been why it ate Stanley!" So maybe Stanley was right about something stealing his snacks.

Ford could hear muffled banging from inside that space and swore his vision went red, like that time Crampelter broke Stanley's nose and knocked out a tooth. Ford hadn’t been as good at boxing as Stanley, but he’d still pounced on Crampelter like a rabid possum, biting and clawing to protect his twin. 

"Over here!" He yelled at it. "Everyone spread out, we need to keep it distracted until Fiddleford finishes the magnet gun! Then we can hold the truck still and rip the Gremobile out!" He was gonna break every part of its face. No one hurt Stanley. Not in front of Ford.

#

Stan's hands hurt from where he'd been trying to punch his way out. He tried not to think about how much his braced wrist- two days 'til that was off- hurt more than the other. It was basically healed anyway, how much damage could he do?

Also- it had started getting really slimy and soft and slippery in here, and that was making it hard to find anything he could hit. 

He reached into his pockets, wondering if maybe now was the time for the pocket knife, he didn't think he could smoke bomb his way out. It was dark too, he was too old to be scared of the dark, but-

He heard the engine rev and roar before he was thrown around a bunch, elbows and knees knocking against the sides. The slime coated him and smelt gross, he clamped his mouth and eyes shut, hands over his ears so it didn't get in any of the holes in his face.

There was one massive move that knocked him against the far side, right as it stopped being all soft and squishy and sunlight hit him. "HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES!"

Ow. His head hurt. He cracked open an eye and squinted up at the sky. Ford's face appeared right in front of him and he yelped, leaning back and hitting his head again.

"Stan!" Ford beamed. "You're okay!"

"Sweet Moses, Sixer, warn a guy first," he grumbled. "What happened?"

"You were eaten by a gremobile, which must have gotten a taste for your candy. My magnet gun held it still long enough for Dan to rip it out- Look!" Ford pointed and Stan poked his head out of the truck bed. 

Dan held up a tiny weird thing in his massive fist, scaled and green-brown, with a wild mohawk and no legs. It held an empty packet of-

"Hey, my toffee peanuts!"

"Ready for a home run?!" Dan prepared to drop the evil little critter, trying to gnaw through his hand like an angry ferret.

"I'm a bit rusty, but we'll see." Tad stood right beside him with a serene, unblinking smile, and drew back a baseball bat, winding up a swing.

Dan dropped the monster and Tad knocked it clear into the woods, its fading shriek all that was left of it as it went flying off to probably die somewhere. Fiddleford stood beside them and whooped at the sight, holding Ford's magnet gun.

"Okay that was cool." Stan admitted. "Help me up?"

"Uhhhhh-" Ford leaned back from him. "I think that's some sort of mucus. Or saliva. Or- uh, other fluids. I'm good."

Stan looked at the slime covering him and got an evil idea, grinning at his brother as he shifted his weight. Slime time. Ford looked at him, recognition sparking followed by immediate horror.

"Stan? Stanley Pines don't you dare- STANLEY!" Ford shrieked like a girl as he jumped out of the truck, Stan's goop-covered pounce barely missing him. 

"Coward!" Stan clambered out of the truck after him, laughing even as he slipped and landed face first in the dirt. 

"Ohmygosh are you okay?" Ford dithered, just enough hesitance for Stanley to grab him and smosh ooze into Ford's hair. 

"Gotcha!" Stan went for the noogie, really wedge it all in there.

"Ew! What's wrong with you, I don't wanna get slimed!" Ford yelled, but he was giggling as he pushed Stan off.

Stan felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed, looking up as Tad Strange lifted his hand, examined the goo, and slapped his own face with it. 

"Slime fight." He looked way too pleased with himself.

"That's no slime fight," Fiddleford chuckled, standing with Boyish Dan with his arms crossed. "When your cousins dunk you in a pig pen- that's a slime fight."

Stanley's eyes sparkled as he glanced at Waddles Jr's shed. Since when were Ford's nerd friends into gross things? And giving him tips on messing with his twin? "Ford?"

"Do it and I'll dye your hair pink." Ford warned him. "I'm not joking, Stanley. Also we need to go wash off."

"C'mon, Fordsy-"

"No, seriously, this is disgusting." Ford's hands hovered over his hair, unwilling to touch the gunk. "Tad, why would you do this willingly?"

"I am driven by an insatiable curiosity."

"I like you, Strange, you and Fidds are pretty cool," Stan announced, brushing himself off a bit. His head wasn't even hurting anymore. 

Dan lumbered over to kneel down in front of him, face pulled in a scowl. "I'm sorry you got eaten, little man!"

"All good, big guy," Stan gave him a thumbs up. "You gotta show me more car stuff some time, it's really interesting."

Dan's frown turned into a smile and he hugged Stan so tight it mighta cracked a rib, hefting him off his feet. Stan froze up, fists clenching on instinct and sending a bolt of pain up his hand before he relaxed. He should have figured a hug from Dan would be like getting hugged by a furnace. A furnace with a chokehold. 

He patted part of Dan's arm, wheezing the words out. "Gotta breathe, big guy."

"Right!" Dan set him back down. "No injuries?"

"Nope!" Stan gave him a big thumbs up. "Thought I'd have to chew my way out though!"

"That would severely damage your teeth," Ford informed him. "Fiddleford, Tad? You alright?"

"I barely had to see that nasty lil beast," Fiddleford twirled the magnet gun over and over in his hands. "Workin' on a solution sure does help."

"Tad Strange has never felt more alive." Tad hefted the bat across his shoulders, and Stan…

Well, they were Ford's friends first, but maybe he could be okay with them. He could be friendly, or as friendly as he was capable of. These weren't going to be the kinds of kids who played mean games like 'pretend to be a friend to play a mean prank'. That happened once and Stan made sure it wouldn't happen again. Tommy-Tim still had a scar through his eyebrow from where the skin split.

"Whoa- what's going on out here?" All five heads shot to the entryway to the gift shop. Dipper stood with his hands on his hips, some of his Mr Mystery attitude in place. 

"Slime fight." Tad informed him. 

"It's coolant!" Fiddleford jumped in with a lie before anyone could tell their grunkle about the genuine supernatural creature. Stan clicked his tongue. Ford wouldn't be pleased about that.

"Oh- you should not have that on your skin," Dipper winced. "Anyway- everyone, outta the parking lot and out the back, this tour's on its way out of the gift shop and I don't want anyone getting hit by a tour bus, so go on, get, skoosh, shoo." he waved them towards the back of the clearing.

"Yes, Mr Pines!" Dan agreed, before he physically pushed the truck back into place, because Dan was a beast and Stan was quickly placing him high on the 'cool person' list. Not above Carla, but still. 

"And clean up before dinner! Don't get gunk all over my house!" Dipper called as Dan started ushering them around the back, towards Waddles Jr.'s pen.

Fiddleford stopped at the edge, reaching over and giving Waddles Jr. a friendly scratch behind the ear. "Golly, that was terrififying. Are you alright, Stan?"

"Eh," he shrugged it off. His hand would be fine.he punched Ford's shoulder, not too hard. "Told you something was stealing my snacks."

"Okay, okay. You told me so." Ford smiled, punched him back. "Knucklehead."

"Nerd." Stan sat on the grass. "How's your nerd game going anyway?"

All three of them immediately began chattering in excitement, and he felt surprisingly okay with it. Ford and his friends dropped their nerd game to save him from an evil car, maybe that meant something. 

#

Dipper set down a big bowl of popcorn and sat on the couch, aching joints glad of the softness that fit him perfectly after many a movie marathon. "Whatcha picked out, kid?"

"There's so many good ones," Stan looked over all the DVDs, stacked higher than the TV. "You've got a lot."

"Yeah, I got way better stuff than the Gravity Falls Horror Movie Rerun Channel, they exclusively have B-movies." He still watched them though. Guilty pleasure. "I got all the classics."

"How about this one?" Stan held up The Exorcist. 

"That's something a responsible parent probably wouldn't let a kid watch," Dipper commented. "Good thing I'm an uncle! Let's do it!"

"Yes!" Stan scrambled to his feet and started setting it up. Dipper watched him as he had some popcorn. The Exorcist, huh? He remembered seeing it in theatres when he was on his own. Scared him half to death at the time. Now he could probably recite the whole script off by heart.

"Got it!" Stan finished setting up and sat back on the rug.  

"Hey, you wanna share the couch?" Dipper offered. "And the popcorn?"

"Really?" Stan looked at him, suspicious and hopeful. 

"Yeah, get your butt up here or I'm gonna eat it all myself." Dipper pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it in Stan's face.

Stan laughed and hopped up on the couch, settling in on the other end as Dipper got the lamp, the room plunging into darkness as the title flashed on the screen. 

"Grunkle Dipper?"

"Shh. Movie time."

Stan hesitated, voice surprisingly quiet from such a boisterous kid. "Thanks for watching this with me. I know you like Ford's game."

Dipper paused, hand in the popcorn bowl. "Yeah, sure, but who wants to have a sleepover where an old guy plays a board game with them?"

"Ford wouldn't mind. He said once it's a game that's best with more players. And you're smart enough to be great at it, I bet." 

"Yeah, true." Dipper didn't want to admit this but fine. "I didn't really… aw man. Look, I-I wasn't a sleepover kid growing up. But-" Mabel and her slumber parties, he used to hate them- "your gramps was. Had 'em all the time."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I know it can feel-" irritating, lonely, jealous, bitter, what's wrong with me- "annoying, being the one that doesn't want to do what everyone else does." 

“Yeah.” Stan pulled his knees up on the couch, wrapping his arms around them.

He reached over and messed up Stan's hair, still damp from where he'd gotten clean. "But you can always come watch a movie with me, kid."

"Heh." Stan smiled, eyes still on the screen. "Cool."

"Yeah, yeah, now shh. You're missing key plot information." Pazuzu was a hack.

#

"Wow, pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles?" Ford had never seen so many colours on food before. 

"Eh, someone once told me it was perfect sleepover breakfast food." Dipper flipped a pancake over the stove. Ford had been woken early by Fiddleford, who apparently woke with the sun on account of 'farm life'. 

It had been weird to see Dipper reading a book when he came downstairs, an arm around a snoring Stan, even as Ford felt a pang of something that wasn't worth investigating. It was good Stan wasn't alone for the night, he probably wouldn't have slept great anyway, they stayed up really late playing MonsterMon after finishing the starter dungeon and defeating the evil wizard, a servant of Probabilitor called Algebraius the Beatable.

"How ya holdin' up there, Stan?" Fiddleford checked in.

Stan had dark rings under his eyes, haggardly cutting into a pancake and nursing a glass of milk the way mom did with her morning coffee. "Pfft, I'm fine. No nightmares at all. That screaming you heard last night was coyotes."

"Well, Tad Strange slept great." Tad had denied the offer of pancakes, instead buttering some of his bread and adding sprinkles to that instead. 

"I did too," Ford agreed. "I had a super cool dream, I was playing chess in space." The other details had slipped away, as dreams did.

"Nerd," Stan poked him with a tired laugh. "Of course you did."

Ford poked him back. He didn't remember much else, but… he felt like he was playing chess with a friend.

[icewindandboringhorror]

It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 5. Back to Square One

Masterlist

Summary: Simon's rapidly growing obsession with you comes to a halt.

Warnings: obsessive behavior, cursing, slight nsfw

The drive back to Simon's house was quiet and dark. Price had turned on the radio, letting classic rock play quietly in the background. He tapped the steering wheel every so often, humming to whatever lyrics he could remember.

Simon sat in the passenger seat, staring at the cars ahead, occasionally glancing at the signs that whizzed by the truck. Each sign that brought him closer to home made him ache. He thought about his bed. He thought about Riley. And, of course, he thought about you. He knew you most likely wouldn't be there - it was after midnight. But he liked to imagine that you'd be waiting there, sitting on his couch with your book and mug of tea, Riley settled next to you, ready to greet him with your smile - the smile that he'd been thinking about in every stolen moment during the mission.

"Alright there, Simon?" Price cut through the silence, dragging Simon back to earth.

He cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Jus' ready to be back."

Price scoffed. He knew Simon didn't consider his house a home. If anything, it was a safe house between missions. "I'm sure Riley will be happy to see you."

"We'll see about that." Simon said with a chuckle. "This dog-sitter might've stolen her from me."

"Nah, she's yours. Been with 'er through it all." Price said as he turned into Simon's neighborhood. "I'm sure she enjoyed the company, though."

Simon grunted. "Seems like it." He said, remembering the picture you had sent him; the way Riley had cozied up to you, the way she seemed so docile and calm in your presence. He imagined you running your fingers through her fur, the perfect ratio of scratching to gentle pets. He wondered what it would feel like on his scalp...

A shiver ran down his spine. How does one become jealous of their own damn dog? It was ridiculous.

"Speaking of the dog-sitter..." Price said, "Johnny mentioned she's a real-"

"Whatever Johnny told you, you can disregard." Simon grumbled. "I told him not to worry 'bout it."

Price chuckled, which made Simon burn with frustration. "Touchy subject, eh?"

"There's nothing to discuss." He replied bitterly. Quite frankly, he didn't like the picture Soap had managed to paint of him. His entire team thought he was whipped by someone he had barely known. Despite it being entirely true, it was the complete opposite of the image he had built of himself - and he had a reputation to keep.

"Right." Price nodded. Simon could tell he didn't believe him, but as long as he didn't try to pester him anymore about it, Simon would take it as a win.

Price pulled into the driveway, and Simon immediately unbuckled. He reached into the back and grabbed his duffel bag, then yanked his door open and got out.

"Y' know this isn't over." Price said, right before Simon could close the door. "We most likely 'ave a week 'fore we get sent out again. Just don't get too comfortable 'ere."

"Never do." Simon replied, shouldering his bag. "I'll wait for your call."

Price nodded, sending Simon off with a wave. He watched as he closed the passenger door and walked up the path to his house, before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards his own home.

Simon sighed as he fished his keys from his pocket. He heard Riley barking on the other side of the door, and a small smile formed on his face. When he pushed it open, she immediately jumped on him, whining and sniffing him all over. He knew she could smell the others on him, and probably wondered why he didn't bring her this time.

"Hey, girl..." he said, yanking his balaclava off and kneeling down to ruffle her fur. "Sorry I's gone so long. Miss me?"

She stood her front paws on his knees and licked his face, still whining and swinging her tail rapidly.

"Yeah, missed you too." He chuckled. "D'ya have fun? Did she treat you right?"

Riley dropped down to the floor as Simon stood. She turned towards his duffel bag and began sniffing, eyes focused on the fabric as she took in all the new and familiar scents.

Simon sighed. "'Bout time for a proper cuppa." He said, making his way into the kitchen. Despite it nearing one in the morning, it would be a while before he was decompressed enough to fall asleep.

He reached into the cupboard for a mug, ignoring the way his back popped. When he placed the mug down and reached for a teabag, he saw a note on the counter. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read it.

Hello Simon!

Hope your deployment was fun good! Riley and I had a blast! She learned how to play dead - if you want to try it, just make sure to give her a biscuit for it (she's only had one today, and she was a bit bitter that I left before giving her a second one). Also, she's had her medicine for the day. I gave her last dose around 9 pm.

Can't wait to spend more time with her, but I'm sure she's happy to see her dad! Let me know when you need me next!

Have a nice evening!

P.S. I had to use your washing machine, I hope that was alright. I got a bit muddy trying to teach her the new trick.

He stared at the note for a good amount of time. His eyes wandered over your meticulously neat handwriting. He noticed how often you liked to use exclamation points - the same way you did in your texts and emails. It made him annoyed - but not with you. He was annoyed that he found it... adorable. He shouldn't. You were too bright and happy; your personality should burn him, not warm him up.

He tried to brush it off, blaming his obervant behaviour on the recent mission. Old habits die hard, he lied to himself.

"Riley, c'mere."

Upon hearing her name, Riley meandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of Simon. She sat on her hind legs and looked at him expectantly.

He looked back at her - he felt a bit silly, commanding a retired veteran dog to do simple party tricks. But, it sounded like you put a lot of effort into teaching her this - not to mention, you had somehow dirtied your clothes over it - so he decided to entertain the idea.

"Play dead." He said firmly.

Riley immediately flopped down onto her back, sticking her paws into the air. She even let her tongue hang out of her mouth to really sell the image.

He felt an immediate rush of pride. "Atta girl..." he praised, kneeling down and patting her affectionately. Despite all the annoyance he felt a moment ago, Simon couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

She twisted and sat up, snuffling and groaning as he rubbed her fur. She barked once, sharp and demanding.

"Yeah, yeah- suppose you deserve a biscuit, huh?" He stood up and grabbed the box of peanut butter and bacon treats, fishing one out and tossing it to Riley. She caught it perfectly, crunching it with an open mouth and licking her lips afterwards.

He watched her with a smile, his arms folded over his chest. Sure, tricks were dumb, something only glorified house pets did for small rewards. But he was impressed that Riley had so effortlessly followed a new command, especially after being out of work for so long. And he was warmed by the fact that, not only did you watch her, but you engaged with her. He was confident he'd found the perfect pet-sitter.

After starting a load of laundry, Simon had taken a cold shower. He scrubbed his eyeblack off with nothing but his hands and the generic body wash from the corner store. He slathered some of his 3-in-one hair gel into his scalp, giving it no more than seven scrubs before rinsing it out. He stood there for a while, letting the water beat against his sore back as the details of the previous mission swarmed throughout his head. He picked apart what he could have done better, what had nearly gotten him killed, and what had probably saved his life.

His eyes flickered to the corner of the tub; there was a cluster of travel-sized bottles, labeled "face wash", "body butter", and so forth. He let himself imagine - who was he kidding, he had no control over his thoughts when it came to you - your body, standing under the stream of the shower. You probably liked hot showers, didn't you? You most likely stayed in there for an hour, going through your meticulous routine, lathering yourself in scented soaps and creams... you'd be appalled if you had seen the three-minute showers he takes, wouldn't you? Maybe you would pull him into your routine, once Simon did eventually get the balls to ask you out, despite how much the thought of being romantic with someone made him scoff. He'd let you wash his face, or shave his balls, or do whatever it is you would do to him.

He suddenly snapped out of his trance, realizing he was holding one of the bottles labeled "conditioner". His thumb was on the edge of the cap, ready to flip it open and take a whiff of the scent - but he quickly stopped himself. He put the bottle back with the rest, then splashed cold water over his face. Quit being a fuckin' creep... he thought.

After turning the shower off and drying himself with a towel, he went into his room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He made his way back into the basement, patting Riley on the back as he passed her by the door. He pulled his laundry out and placed it on top of the washing machine, and opened the dryer. Just as he was getting ready to toss his clothes in, he noticed something hiding in the back of the barrel of the machine.

He reached in and pulled it out - it was your flannel. The same green-and-grey one you'd been wearing during your interview.

He paused for a moment, posture rigid as he held the fabric in the air. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It was just a flannel... but it was your flannel. He fought with his muscles, resisting the urge to bring it closer and inhale the scent - he tried to reason with himself. Maybe she used my soap, and it would just smell like my detergent. Nothin' special.

He dropped it on top of the dryer, still wrinkly and warm - but, strangely, that felt too rude. It's a fucking piece of clothing, for Christ's sake... he thought. Not her dead nan. He then attempted to hang it on the rack, but that felt too formal. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with irritation. How something so insignificant was causing him so much turmoil was beyond him.

He ended up bringing it back upstairs. Riley sniffed the fabric as he passed her - she thumped her tail eagerly on the floor as she smelled your scent. Once again, Simon was jealous of the dog being able to act so carefree with you - he knew for sure that if he tried sniffing your flannel, he would be a certified creep. Or, worse yet, he might not care, and wouldn't be able to stop himself.

He tossed it over the back of the couch, planning on forgetting you had ever even worn it. He dropped himself onto the cuhions with a groan. Riley immediately took her place in her bed, just a few feet away from him. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the telly, flicking through the channels until he found some action/drama that caught his interest. He watched it boredly, drowning himself and his thoughts in the drone of the movie.

Suddenly, Riley barked. Simon looked at her - his gaze was met with hers, mouth opening and tail thwapping against the wall.

"Hmm?"

She let out an impatient, garbled sound. She lowered her head to the edge of her bed, still looking at Simon.

He shrugged internally and looked back at the screen. He settled further into the cushions and let his eyes fall shut. He thought about maybe drifting off then and there - the din of the telly might help keep the nightmares at bay...

Riley barked again, making Simon jolt. He snapped his head towards her - she was standing at the foot of the couch, ears back and panting.

"Wha' d'you want?" He asked in an annoyed tone.

She barked again, shifting her weight from one paw to the other.

"Ya need to go out?" He asked. He stood from his seat, only for Riley to scamper back to her bed and plop down on it. She looked at him expectantly.

Simon huffed. "'M not following." He dropped down to the sofa again. Riley groaned, making a scene of dragging herself out of the bed again and walking over to Simon.

"Now, don't you go 'n start aga-"

She cut him off with a shrill yap.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew it couldn't be time for her medication - you had just given her some at nine. But he was entirely stumped on what she was trying to communicate to him. Was she hungry? She wasn't usually, after she'd had dinner... did she want to play? But... she was acting like she wanted to go to bed.

"What are you on 'bout?" He asked, leaning down to ruffle her fur. She dodged his hand and backed up a bit, yowling out a frustrated sound.

He scoffed. "Fuckin' hell..." he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket. Only one way to fix this, he thought, as he tapped through his contacts, until he landed on yours.

He stared at the picture for a moment, familiarizing himself with the details he had spent so long ogling at: your smile, your damp hair, the curve of your cheekbones, the way you marked your spot in your book with your fingers-

Riley barked again, making Simon scowl.

"A'right- just hush." He ordered, sending her a stern glance as she shuffled back to her bed. He started the call - he felt unusually nervous, his gut twisting as he listened to each ring on the line. Maybe he really was whipped, he thought.

Eventually, the call picked up. His shoulders tensed as he heard shuffling on the other end of the line.

"... m... hello?"

Fuck. You sounded tired- no, you sounded like you were still asleep. He quickly pulled the phone away and checked the time; it was nearly two in the morning. Of course you'd been asleep.

"Uh... hey." He said, mentally cursing himself. "Shit, I, uh... didn't even consider you might be asleep."

"No..." You mumbled - were you even awake at all? "No, iz fine... yeah..."

Simon waited a moment, expecting you to say something else - but you didn't. Eventually, he heard the soft sounds of your breathing again.

"Hello?" He asked cautiously.

"Up... 'm up... what's up?"

Simon shifted in his seat, slightly ashamed that he hadn't put two and two together and ended up calling you so late. "Right- jus' a quick-"

Riley barked again, staring at Simon impatiently.

Simon covered the speaker to his phone and sent her a harsh glare. "Oi! 'M workin' on it, hush!"

Your sleepy giggle wafted through the phone and into Simon's ear. "Sweet baby..."

Simon's breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously. She means the dog, the fucking dog, you idiot.

"Uh, sorry- jus' got a question for ya."

"Hmm?"

"Well- she's acting a bit funny," he stared at Riley and held a cautioning hand up as she shifted her weight and whined, "she's runnin' around and yellin' at me. Keeps gettin' in 'er bed, then comin' back like- like she wants somethin'. I have no bloody idea. Just wonderin' if she was doin' this with you."

"Oh, yeah..." Simon could hear your smile through the phone, and he desperately tried to push the image of your tired face from his mind. "She wants her blanket."

Simon paused. "She- she's got her blanket."

"No- she wants you to tuck her in."

"She wha' now?"

You laughed again. "You need to tuck her in her bed. She's right under the air vent and she gets cold."

He looked back at Riley. She was now sitting down, mouth closed, as if agreeing with what you said. He scoffed, rising from the couch and shuffling towards her. She slowly thumped her tail as he approached.

"Never 'eard of a dog gettin' tucked in..." he grumbled. He grabbed the felt blanket behind her, swaddling it around her body. She groaned, slowly blinking at him in an appreciative manner.

"Ya spoiled, you hear me?" He said quietly, tucking the blanket in between her and the cushion of the bed. She sighed happily, completely unaware that he was insulting her. She licked his cheek when he bent down close enough, and he grumbled and wiped the spittle away.

You giggled in his ear - Christ, you've got to stop doing that, do you have any idea what it does to him? - as he sat back down on the sofa. "All better?" You asked.

"Seems t' be-" he replied, watching Riley as she settled into her cocoon, "ya turnin' her into a princess."

"Well, she is one." You quickly replied - Simon could hear you stretching your limbs, followed by a long exhale.

He wanted to talk to you all night. Hearing you prattle on was like a balm to his jagged mind. But he knew he couldn't. You were half asleep, after all.

"Well, tha's all I needed- oh, and you, uh..." he grabbed your flannel off the back of the sofa. "Y' left your flannel here."

"I did?"

"Yeah. The green one."

"Oh, bullocks, I knew I-"

"Who are you talking to at this hour?"

Simon felt his heart stop when he heard the other voice. It had hit him like a train, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His brain went into overdrive, thinking of the worst possible scenario. Break in? Crazy stalker? Murderous ex? "Y' aright, love?"

"Simon." You said, and he couldn't tell if you were talking to him or someone else. Were you trying to warn him? To ask for help?

"Talk to me."

"Who the bloody hell is Simon?"

"My client, ya git."

"Oh- sorry love-" Simon heard more shuffling, then a kiss, followed by a grunt from you. He let himself linger in the confusion of what was going on - but, in the back of his mind, he understood it completely.

"Got me right in my bloody eye-"

"Oh, hush."

"Left your flannel at his house."

"My green one?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were using the grey one!"

"Well, I was, Tyler, and then I wanted the green one!"

"That's it - I'm stealin' all ya knickers tomorrow."

You laughed again - this time. The sound nearly shattered Simon. He felt like it was wrong to hear you laugh so sweetly.

"Well, uh-" he was speaking before he even realized it. "You can pick it up- or I'll drop it off- or, uh, I can drop it- I mean, I'll-"

"You can shove it in the closet until next time, if that's alright?" You said, yawning shortly after.

Simon paused. He needed to get it together. "Yea, that'll work. I'll let you go then - sorry to call so late."

"It's fine, really. But let me know when you'll need me again, ok?"

"'Course I will. I'll send you an email, as usual."

You scoffed. "I know you said we should only text for emergencies, but you can text me if it's something small, Simon."

"Right, will do. I'll text you."

"Is everything ok?"

"It's fine. You should sleep. I'll talk later."

"Ok. Goodnight, Simon."

"G'bye."

He ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment, until your contact photo faded away. He leaned his head back and sighed. His thoughts suddenly came rushing back - except this time, they were about you. How he should have expected you to have a partner. How could you not? You were so bright and bubbly, of course you'd be snatched up. He felt stupid for thinking you'd be single. Maybe this whole idea of you falling for him was stupid. Maybe this was better - he was saved from rejection, even if this situation stung painfully within his chest.

Whatever. Hopefully, your personality would finally drive him over the edge of annoyance and anger, and you'd be more of a nuisance to him. That'd be the easiest way you could let him down.

He looked at the flannel in his lap. It's not even hers. He thought. He crumpled the fabric into his hand and flung it behind him.

Riley's head snapped up at the movement, and she floundered out of her bed, chasing after the flannel.

"Riley, no- don't-" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard her scuffling across the floor. He kept his eyes closed as he heard her come trotting back, before she stopped at the edge of the couch.

She whined and tilted her head. Simon opened his eyes and looked at her.

"That's not even hers, ya ninny." He said. He looked away and turned up the telly, hoping that everything in his head would just disappear into the back of his mind.

Riley stepped around Simon's feet as she carried the flannel in her mouth. She then hopped onto the couch and settled next to Simon, depositing the (now damp) clothing onto his lap. He grunted as she laid her head down on his leg, whining and flattening her ears. She looked up at him with curious eyes, slowly thumping her tail on the cushion.

He exhaled through his nose. He stared at the flannel, then back at Riley. "Ya really like her, eh?"

She licked her lips and blinked, sighing through her nose.

He chuckled, patting her side and looking at the ceiling. "I know. I do too." He closed his eyes.

"We'll be alright, girl."

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon

[daintcas]

breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !

your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.

'Where are you'

'Answer me.'

'I'm coming to your house'

'We're going to talk about this'

swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.

he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.

everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.

the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.

his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.

"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.

"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.

he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."

"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.

"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.

"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.

as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.

"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.

it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."

the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."

[vivwritesfics]

Cowgirl

He was just there to see Kate, to make sure she was all right after what happened. He didn't expect to run into the pretty cowgirl and her horse.

There was an unfamiliar white truck in the driveway. There was always unfamiliar trucks in the driveway, always some rich asshole trying to purchase the land out from under their feet.

She patted her horse's neck as she looked at the truck. Storm Par. Tye name didn't tell her as much as she wanted it to. "Come on, Gambler." She tensed her leg against the horse's side and walked him towards the barn.

It was late, so late that she knew her mother would be furious with her. Her sister was always the good one, the one with high expectations placed on her shoulders. Expectations that she'd exceeded.

Jumping from Gamblers saddle, she walked him into the barn and did everything she needed to do. Untacked him, fed him, made sure the little makeshift stable was clean and he had enough food and water for the night.

They got a small corner of the barn. The rest of it was full of Kate's stuff. She couldn't be mad about that, not when Kate's stuff was so cool. But it also served as a grim reminded that she wasn't there, and hadn't been for years.

Shutting the barn for the night, she made her way back to the house. Storm Par, she'd seen that truck somewhere before, she just couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to look in the truck, but it was too dark to see anything.

She made her way inside of the house, toed off her dirty boots and dropped her keys in the bowl. Shrugging off her jacket, she hung it over the banister and made her way to the kitchen.

Her stomach made a desperate noise as she looked in the fridge for the leftovers. "I know, I know," she mumbled to herself, setting about heating it up.

Footsteps, on the stairs. "Mom?" She called over her shoulder. "Sorry I'm late, we lost track of time."

The person didn't respond as she stirred the leftovers in the pan to heat it up. When she turned around, her breath caught in her throat.

There stood her sister. Kate, the good one, the smart one, the one that had disappeared to New York. "Holy shit," she breathed as she looked at her. "Holy fuckin' shit."

"Hi," Kate said and swallowed.

She'd imagined this moment several times, what it would be like to be reunited with Kate. Had imagined running into her arms and holding her so tight that she couldn't leave again.

But, now that they were here, she was at a loss. It didn't feel right to embrace Kate in such a dramatic fashion, didn't feel right to do anything but just look at her.

She turned and stirred the leftovers in the pan. "What're you doing back?" She asked as she began to plate it up.

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "I was nearby," she said and sat at the kitchen table, sat in the seat opposite her. "Were you out with Gambler?"

She nodded as she ate.

No, it isn't bad writing, the conversation was stale. The sisters didn't quite know what so say to each other. Where had they left off when Kate disappeared? Why had she left them behind?

She didn't mean to resent her sister for getting out, for leaving her behind. Their mother had been so distraught when Kate left for New York, but she understood why. She still had her other daughter there. Her other daughter who wanted to leave, who wanted to travel across the country and make a life for herself.

Clearing her throat, she stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled and took her food up to her room. Kate wasn't blonde the last time she saw her. But that seemed to be the only difference.

She looked out of her window, looked at the Storm Par truck in the drive. It must have been Kate's truck, she decided and sat at her computer.

It was so easy to find information on Storm Par. To find out who they were, to find out what they did. The what wasn't important, and the who was only kind of important. It was the why that she cared about. And, when she found that out, why the hell would Kate work for a company like this?

A sour feeling settled in her stomach as she went to bed that night.

***

"Someone's feeling fresh," she mumbled as she walked Gambler forward. But Gambler didn't want to walk; he wanted to go.

She turned him in a sharp circle, since holding him back wasn't doing anything to stop him from taking off. "You wanna run, Gamble?" She challenged, walking him to the end of the drive. He was practically galloping on the spot.

When they get to the wide open field in front of them, she let him go. Gambler went. He galloped, snorting as he went. She held the mane and let him run until he got to the other end of the field. At the other end of the field, she got Gambler back under control and began walking him back to the house. Halfway across the field, she pushed him into a nice, controlled canter.

An unfamiliar red truck was parked in the driveway, parked beside the Storm Par truck. She squeezed on the reins, slowed Gambler down as she watched the guy climb out of the red truck. The cowboy hat on his head looked performative as he placed it back in his truck.

"Can I help you?" She asked as she walked Gambler over to him.

He was gorgeous. His charm was written in smile as he looked around at her home. Upon seeing her, his charming smile dropped from his face. "Uh, yeah," he said and turned again. "Is Kate here?" He asked.

She blew out a breath and gestured for him to follow her. He did, walking a good distance behind Gambler. "Are you with Storm Par as well?" She asked as she rode, the reins in one hand and her other hand resting on her thigh.

To Tyler, she looked all the bit the cowgirl. He knew cowgirls, he was an ex rodeo man, after all. This was the kind of girl he would have chased after before he went to study meteorology. "No," he said, that charming smile slowly reappearing on his face. "I do chase, though."

"Ah," she said as she jumped from the saddle and grabbed a hold of the reins. "You're one of those freaks." It was said completely in jest, the tone of her voice suggested. She pushed open the barn doors and led Tyler inside. "Kate," she called across the barn. "Someone here for you."

Tyler watched as she took her horse to the little stable in the back of the barn. And then he turned his attention to Kate.

All the time she was in the barn, Tyler couldn't help but look at her. She had a Stetson hanging off the stable door as she gave her horse a bath. It shouldn't have been distracting but, to Tyler, it was. She was just cleaning her horse, massaging the purple shampoo into his grey coat.

Every time Kate caught him staring, Tyler had the decency to quickly look away. But Kate just grinned at him and told him her name. "She's my sister," she said quietly.

He didn't expected to get invited to dinner. "You should," said Kate as she looked further into the barn. "She's cooking." Tyler looked back at her as she grabbed a black bucket and filled it with horse food.

Her cooking was incredible. She wore her Stetson as she brought the food to the table outside. Kate set the table as she placed an array of food on the middle of the table.

"Thank you, cowgirl," said Tyler as she placed the salad down in front of him.

Her cheeks were so hot as she sat in the seat opposite him. "Don't mention it," she muttered and began plating everything up.

It was easy not to look at her when her mother was asking him so many questions, questions he was happy to answer. But she hadn't stopped looking at him. Feeling like a creep, she tried to stay focused on her dinner. But his voice. Fuck, it was something else.

"What about you?"

She hadn't even realised he was talking to her. With her mouth full, she looked up at him. "What?" She asked around the food in her mouth.

"Do you like storms?"

It probably wouldn't have been such an odd question if she had been paying attention to the conversation. She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, they're pretty. But you wouldn't catch me dead outside in one."

Tyler's entire focus was on her, as if he'd forgotten her mother and Kate were there. "I bet I could change your mind," he said, voice full of confidence.

She took the challenge, copied his pose as she leaned towards him. "Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that?" She tried to copy the expression on his face, the charming grin he had so easily mastered.

He sat back in his seat and looked towards his truck. "You'll see, Cowgirl."

[yeetus-feetus]

Today my mother made me go to the beach. And while I was there I let myself enjoy the water and sand between my toes.

After a little while I felt like crying.

I felt like crying because remembered the videos I had seen of Palestinian children playing in the water of their beaches, of parents chasing children around while they laughed, of people enjoying the water and feeling the sand between their toes.

Then I thought about how these people don't get to enjoy their beaches anymore. Because Israel won't let them, because Israel is bombing the families who used to play in the sand.

When we got in the car my mum rolled all the windows down, said something about the fresh air. And as we drove I felt the cool wind against my face, in my hair.

And I wanted to cry.

Because the people in Gaza don't get to just enjoy the fresh air. Because all they're breathing in is debris from destroyed buildings and white phosphorus, and the smell of the dead.

I looked out my window and saw my old school as we passed. And I felt guilty, because I dropped out. But their are children in Palestine who are crying and begging to go back to school and they can't.

The children in Gaza can't go back to school because Israel has destroyed and bombed them.

And I think about the displaced people taking refuge in those very schools while Israel attacked them. I think about how unfair and cruel that is.

And then I see the trees. My favourite trees, Gum trees that are native to my land. And I think about how the native trees in Gaza are being destroyed and bulldozed, very important trees that mean a lot to the Palestinian people. And those trees are being taken away by Israel.

Then there are houses, homes and people going about their day. I watch them from my car window and I want to cry still. Because the people in Gaza have no homes, they don't get to go about their day.

I think about the displaced people in Gaza, who are lucky to have a tent to sleep in. Because Israel has bombed their homes, rained white phosphorus above their homes, bulldozed over their homes, forced the Palestinian people to flee from their homes.

I'm barely holding in my tears, because I'm in the car on the way to my own home and the people in Gaza don't get to do that.

We pass the shops, and my throat starts to close up because there's people buying ice cream and groceries for their families. And the people in Gaza are being starved by Israel.

The people in Gaza don't get to have ice cream, they can't do their grocery shopping. They don't even have enough food for their own children because Israel refuses to let any aid trucks in, because they control all the borders and entries into Gaza.

We pass by a chemist in particular and I think about all the children in Gaza not being able to receive medical care. Because the hospitals are being attacked by Israel. Because no medical aid can get in. Because they have doctors being killed.

And then we pass by the park. The park is empty. And I think about the empty parks in Gaza. Because there are no children to play on the swings, no children to run and laugh. Because the children are crying instead. The children have no legs to play because they've been bombed. They can't laugh because white phosphorus has burned through their faces. They can't do anything because they are frozen in fear.

Theses children who should be filling up empty parks are holding their baby siblings, trying to keep them alive because their parents, aunt's and uncles, have all been slaughtered by the IDF. These children who should be laughing are screaming out for help because members of the IDF are raping them.

These children who should be having fun at the park are prisoners of Israel for throwing rocks at tanks like the boy David who threw a rock at the giant Goliath to save his people. And these children are being tortured in these prisons because they were hopeful and brave.

These children who should be with their families at the park are dying. Are dead. A lying beneath the ruble. Are cold and limp with no air in their lungs. These children are in pieces scattered across the blood drenched ground.

They should have been at the park today.

I can hear a man talking on the radio, and he's talking about unimportant nonsense things and I feel angry. I feel frustrated. Because why is no one else talking about this!? Why is no one talking about what's happening to these people!??

We pass by the fresh water creak right before my house and I want to scream! Because I know there's no fresh water in Gaza. I know there are Palestinians dying of dehydration and yet there is fresh, drinkable water running right there! But the water in Palestine has been polluted by blood and disease, and the seawater Israel has flooded their water supply with.

And when I get to my bed I finally scream and cry and punch my mattress to get all my emotions out.

Now I'm numb and writing this so that someone will see it, hoping that someone will understand, hoping that someone will fight even harder for the people of Palestine.

I'm hoping that they can enjoy their beaches again. I hope that's sometime soon.

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens x Shy!Reader, they somehow get separated while finding shelter during a tornado, but end up finding each other when the tornado is over🩵

I seen Twisters a couple weeks ago and now I’m obsessed with Tyler Owens🌪️🥰

Storm's Over - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

You've never known true relief like this before; like feeling your rattled, weary bones soothed by the mere sight of Tyler's presence. The second your eyes lock onto his ragged form, his own panicked ones scanning the crowd of survivors, you're staggering forwards, wind-whipped but otherwise unscathed from the storm you'd just endured.

"Ty," You choke, and he whirls around the face you faster than the twister itself had spun, his hands instinctively reaching out to hold you before he even sees you."

"Christ, baby." He breathes, shaky and devoid of his typical charm, "I- I thought," He crushes you against his chest, and the pressure is comforting instead of constricting, "I thought you'd maybe gotten- y'know."

"No, but I thought you-!" You cry, sobs crawling up your throat despite the danger being gone as you let yourself melt into his tight embrace, "I couldn't find you and I saw you run back to help someone, and I just thought-"

"No, I'm okay." He soothes, and the way that his hand is nearly bruising your scalp with the way he's clutching your head against his chest tells you that perhaps he isn't, but that he will be as long as you are.

"That was scary," Your face crumples against his chest, and your tearstains join the water that's soiled his shirt. It's such a simple observation, one that you don't feel the need to point out, but it's the truth, and the only thing your brain can supply.

"I know, darlin'." Tyler sighs, and you feel his hand tremble slightly as he wraps it even tighter around your waist, gripping you for dear life, "It's- bein' in the truck doesn't do it justice. It's more intense than you can imagine."

"I don't want you chasing anymore," You plead, curling your fingers into desperate fists in the material of his t-shirt, "Please, I- that was so scary, Tyler, I can't let you go out in those anymore!"

"We're okay," He reminds you, gently shuffling your embrace a few steps to the left so that a truck can pass you in the almost-ruined street, "We're okay, it didn't get us. The truck is safe, let's- let's get in there, okay?"

You're glad that Tyler has strength in his limbs still, because the tornado seems to have whisked yours away with it. He leads your slumping form over to his truck, and you grip onto its metal armor, thankful for its protection even though the storm has passed.

"Get in there, darlin'." He hums, helping to hoist you into the passenger's seat, "Put that seatbelt on, m'kay?"

"Okay," You sniffle, your voice weak and trembling, "I got it."

Tyler shuts the door when he hears the click of your seatbelt, and he's occupying his own seat as soon as he can round the front of the truck.

"The truck is safe." He repeats his earlier phrase, hands braced on the wheel as he takes a deep breath. You glance up at him with wounded eyes, curled into your seat like a timid puppy.

"You're not gonna stop chasing, are you?" You ask, and Tyler's face remains forcibly calm.

"No." He murmurs, and new tears prick at your eyes.

"Promise me you'll stay in the truck?" You ask, willing to compromise if it means he'll never feel the whipping winds on his skin again, as long as the metal giant you're nestled comfortably into is his protction.

"I promise." It's an easy one for him to make, and you reach out a shaking arm to offer up a pinky for him to link his own with.

He does, and you relish the security of feeling his own finger twine with yours.

"You're okay." He reminds you, jostling your joined pinkies reassuringly, "And I'm okay. We're okay."

"We're okay," You nod, and despite knowing Tyler won't stop chasing storms, you're confident when you say, "And we always will be."

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

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[hgfictionwriter]

Handy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Sometimes you forget Jessie’s an engineer. A very thoughtful, but shy one at that. One who feels more comfortable renovating your apartment than telling you she likes you.

Warnings: No warnings.

A/N: I'm hearing some fluff is in order. Hope you all enjoy!

"Where do you want this?" Jessie asked as she stood holding a large box in the doorway to your new bedroom.  

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to the walk-in closet. "Over there would be great. Thank you." 

"No problem," Jessie replied as she walked over and set the box down. She looked around as she stood. "Are you doing anything with the shelving in here?" 

"Oh yeah," you said as you got up and joined her. "I'm going to move these shelves up and add another set here to create more storage." 

"Smart. That'll be good," Jessie affirmed as she scanned the space.

You tried not to stare, but her profile, curious eyes, and the way her baby hairs stuck to her face after several trips to and from the moving truck made it challenging.   

"Hey, I think that's everything." 

Both you and Jessie turned when Janine's voice filtered in from the bedroom, seeing Kelli standing beside her.  

"Oh amazing. Thank you so much, all of you. I'm sure your coach would have my head if he knew you helped me move, but I'm very grateful. And hey - no injuries! Knock on wood. I guess you all still have to make it home in one piece," you joked.  

"Anytime," Janine said as she crossed the room and gave you a hug. "The new digs look great. Condo ownership looks good on you." 

You laughed. "Thank you. And it's even better when highly trained athletes do all the heavy lifting for you." 

"No unpacking though," Kelli joked. "That's where I draw the line." You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

"I can handle that part. Thank you. Next round of dinner and drinks are on me." 

Once everyone left and you continued the tedious task of unpacking, your phone dinged with a text. You retrieved it to see Jessie's name on the screen. 

"Hey. I hope unpacking is going well. I just wanted to say that if you need any help redoing your shelves I'm happy to swing by. I like projects like that." 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.  

"Sometimes I forget you're an engineer. You've done so much as is - I already rolled the dice by getting you to help me move furniture and precariously packed boxes. I don’t want to push." 

"I really don't mind! And setting up shelves is a lot less risky than holding the bottom end of the couch on the stairs while Kelli and Janine argue about how to angle it through a doorway." 

You laughed recalling the scene in your mind. She had a point. Plus, spending some time alone, just the two of you, wouldn't be unwanted.  

You'd met through Janine a few months back and had become friends in your own right since then, but it was still the norm that you typically only saw each other with Janine. This could be a nice change of pace. And, you know, if seeing her work in such a capacity would turn out to be eye candy - so be it.  

"Alright. You've convinced me. When are you free? And please, please know that if you change your mind it's really not a problem at all. Please don't feel pressured or obliged." 

"Excellent! Does next Sunday work for you? I'd say Saturday, but we have a game that afternoon." 

"I'm aware lol. I'll be there, after all. Sunday sounds great." 

"Right lol. Okay, Sunday it is! Let me know if you need me to pick anything up prior. I'm happy to." 

"You're too sweet. See you then." 

----- 

"You brought your own drill set?" You asked with an amused smile. The blush on Jessie's face was immediate. 

"Well, I didn't know what you had." Her voice rising in pitch. "And I have a spare battery. There's nothing worse mid-project than running out of a charge." 

"Nothing," you mocked affectionately and she averted her gaze as her cheeks grew redder. You smiled at her and ushered her to the walk-in. "Okay, well, between the two of us I think we're all set. Let's get started." 

It didn't take long for it to become Jessie leading and you helping. Going in, you felt you had a decent grasp of what to do, but as the work progressed, you realized how good it was that Jessie was here because she guided things with confidence and ease that you had to admit you probably wouldn't have had in her absence.  

You were expecting this to be an all day venture, but with Jessie at the helm the work went by quickly and smoothly.  

"Hand me that last shelf, please," she instructed calmly as she double-checked her work. 

You were ready with it and handed it up to her. You watched in what you hoped was subtle appreciation as she set it in place.

She stood perched on the ladder, wearing her black hat and her shirt was tucked in. The tape measure was hooked onto her pocket and she wore a soft look of concentration on her face. When she took the shelf, her biceps popped as she lifted it and set it down on the brackets with ease. The pencil tucked behind her ear was the cherry on top.  

Once she was confident the shelf was secure, she turned to you with a bright smile.  

"All done! What do you think?" 

"It's fantastic," you relayed, forcing yourself to refocus. And it was true. Not only was her workmanship thorough, but she'd tweaked a few things in your plan to optimize the setup even further. "Thank you so much. This is better than what I could've imagined. I owe you big time." 

She shrugged and focused on her feet as she stepped down off the ladder. "No, it's all good. It was fun." 

"Well, I really appreciate it. Truly," you went on, seeking eye contact, but she seemed to readily avoid it as she began cleaning up her tools. Eventually, she looked to you with a small smile. 

"Don't mention it. Thanks for letting me help." 

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "You're funny. Can I at least order us in some dinner and make you a drink or two?" You saw her begin to hesitate, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she fidgeted. Early on, you would've immediately backed off, fearing you were making her truly uncomfortable, but by this point you knew she was just shy. And a bit skittish. You went on gently. "Consider it a small token of my appreciation." 

She gave you a crooked smile as she distractedly readjusted her hat before seeming to catch herself and clasped both hands in front of her. "Okay, sure. That sounds good." 

You two talked fairly late into the night and you noted how Jessie relaxed into the evening. Conversation was easy and naturally weaved from the light and fun to the more serious and heavy without getting uncomfortable or awkward. The night only came to an end because you had to work in the morning.  

"Thank you again for all of your help," you told her as she stood at your front door, shoes, jacket and backpack on. "Not only does the closet look great, but it was a lot of fun - thanks to you. I can't help but think about projects half that serious that I've done with exes and they've turned into all out brawls. So, thank you." 

Her posture straightened slightly and as she blushed with a nervous laugh. "Well, what can I say. We work well together." If you were right, the flush of her cheeks deepened. She averted her gaze, shuffling her feet a bit before she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and nodded over your shoulder.  

"You said you were going to change out the lighting fixtures in the living room, right?" She asked. Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I mean, I'm not an electrical engineer, but a couple lighting fixtures is no big deal. I could come over next week and help with those." 

You gave her a smirk of your own, unknowingly looking her up and down.  

"If you'd really like to. I certainly won't stop you." 

The easy confidence she was trying to channel a moment ago flickered before she gave you a nonchalant shrug.  

"Sure. It's not a problem." 

"Alright," you accepted. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, and good night." You leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug - something you hadn't done before - and it seemed to catch her off-guard as she very belatedly put her hands up around you as you were already beginning to pull away, and even then, her movements were stiff and tentative. When you fully broke away her face was beet red.  

"Okay." Her voice was high and tight. She gave you a quick, awkward wave before turning to leave. "Have a good night."  

----- 

The next weekend rolled around and Jessie was yet again up on a ladder in your new apartment. She tilted her head and frowned in concentration as she installed the last set of screws on your new lighting fixture.  

"Okay, go ahead and turn the breaker back on," she told you as she stepped down and walked over to the light switch. You did as you were told. 

"Okay, done." 

The switch went on with a soft click and light filled the room. You watched her before looking up at the newly installed fixture. She smirked.  

"Looks good," she said. “How do you like it?”

“It's brilliant. Thank you again. But what I’m really interested in is this,” you said as you closed the space between you two and grasped her hand, she tensed at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You lifted her hand to see the cut on her knuckle.

“I knew it. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said and at that she pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her back.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but still,” you told her gently, noting the embarrassed look on her face. “Indulge me. Let me at least put a bandaid on it.”

She grumbled in contemplation but eventually conceded. You smiled to yourself at how her head jerked away when you glanced up from her hand to catch her staring at you.

When you finished placing the bandaid on her you released her hand and took a step back. You waited to catch her eye and spoke, “Make sure you clean that up more when you get home.”

Her cheeks grew pink and she rolled her eyes. You caught the hint of a smile on her lips though.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessie stayed for dinner and a drink once more. Conversation flowed even easier, if that’s possible, than last time. You tried to hide the smile over how pleased you were by this since you and Jessie had been texting all week in between. It would've been understandable if you ran out of things to talk about by this point, but you didn’t - at all.

"I noticed there were a couple of dings in the drywall - probably from when we were moving stuff in. Probably Janine's doing - I'm much more conscientious," Jessie relayed with a facetious eye roll. "I could patch those up for you. I imagine the previous owners left some of the original paint or we could just get it paint matched." 

You smirked at her from across the couch.  

"You know, we could always just hang out - no reno job required. You don’t have to do something every time." 

She blushed and took a sip of her drink.  

"Oh, well, you know. I don’t mind." 

"Well, how about we just hang out next time. If you are desperate to repair the drywall even after that, well, have at 'er. But maybe a work-free, normal hang out would be nice," you told her with a soft laugh. She nodded, blush fading as she returned your smile.  

“Okay, that sounds like a plan." She swirled her drink, looking down at the churning liquid and speaking into it. "You could come over to my place? I could make us dinner. Or whatever." She finally mustered up the courage to look back up at you.

Now it was your turn to blush. You fiddled with your glass and offered her a hint of a smile. "Okay. That sounds nice." 

————

“Whoa. That’s fancy,” Jessie commented as you set down a nice bottle of Chardonnay on her counter.

“Well, it’s my first time over. I had to break out the good stuff for you.”

Jessie grinned and retrieved a couple of glasses for you before setting down two plates of food on the kitchen table.

“This looks amazing,” you told her as you looked at the meal she prepared. “And I can’t help but think this just isn’t fair. You did all this free work for me and now you’ve made me dinner.”

“Was it free?” She squinted at you teasingly. “You had to listen to me babble on about metric versus imperial for a solid 20 minutes there.”

“I didn’t mind. I’d listen to that any day. I like hearing your facts and tidbits and about whatever you're interested in,” you assured her and she tried to conceal her smile. “How’d you become so handy anyway? I mean, I know you have this engineering background now, but still.”

She shrugged. “I liked helping my dad with projects around the house. Helping him build stuff. It was just always fascinating to me to see things come together like that and to know you did it with your own two hands.”

“That’s cute. And very sweet,” you told her as you took a bite. She dismissed your comment with a small wave of her fork.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well. I still think it’s cute. And I certainly reaped the rewards. Thank you again - seriously, for all of your help. You didn’t have to help me, and I really appreciate all the work you did.”

She took a sip of wine and peered at you over the glass, taking a moment to contemplate.

“There’s still that matter of the drywall,” she joked.

“You’re still on that, huh?” You said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when there are no projects left to work on?”

A faint blush began to form on Jessie’s face and she shuffled around in her chair a bit before taking a bite of food.

“There are always projects to be done. And if not, well, you’re the one who said we could hang out without a project to work on.”

You propped your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your open palm. “And the offer still stands. Clearly,” you gestured around her apartment. “If you’re interested.” Jessie dropped your gaze and flushed a deeper tone of pink.

“Yeah. I mean, we get along alright.”

You snickered a bit before taking a sip of your drink.

“What resounding affirmation," you said dryly and she shot you a bashful look. You smirked. "I guess it’s settled then.”

You polished off the bottle of wine that evening and your conversation carried you late into the night. You made a point of not checking the time and Jessie made no attempt to either. You had to work in the morning, but you just didn't care. You'd deal with the consequences later.

At some point though, an inevitable yawn escaped Jessie.

“Oh, I should let you get to sleep,” you offered, though not yet moving from your spot on the couch next to her. You were sitting across from one another and you were very aware of how if either of you shifted in a particular way, your legs would brush.

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I’ll get my second wind here in no time.” You chuckled and finally checked your phone. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh shit,” you laughed. “Well, I’ve worked off of less sleep before.”

“You didn’t tell me you were working,” she frowned at you. “Yeah, some clients are in from out of town. It’s okay, I wanted to hang out with you.” You reluctantly rose from the couch and she followed. “As much as I'm enjoying myself, I should go. I can get about 4 hours of sleep if there are no delays on the train.”

“You are not taking the train,” Jessie told you in the most stern voice you’d ever heard from her. It actually caught you off guard and you ignored the stirring in your chest at her display.

“Fine. An Uber,” you conceded.

“No. I’ll drive you,” she countered.

“Don’t be silly.” You waved her off. “You’re tired too and I’m not making you drive 30 minutes across town and back at this hour.”

“Then…I don't know, just spend the night.” She immediately held up her hands in defense. “Not like that. I just mean…it’s super late, getting home is going to be a pain. I’ll drive you home in the morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Jessie…” It was tempting. The logic wasn’t entirely bulletproof, but reasonable enough.

In the time you took to start contemplating, Jessie had run to the closet and started pulling out spare pillows and blankets. You looked at them when she returned and gave her a discerning look. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you just didn’t want to intrude.

“I’ll take an Uber in the morning.” You told her and she gave you an easy smile as she began setting up the couch.

“I’ll drive you,” she repeated nonchalantly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stubborn,” you complained half-heartedly.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug as she went to her room for a few moments and came back out with a set of pyjamas.

“Don’t tell Janine. She’ll never let me hear the end of this,” you warned in mock petulance as you went to take the clothes from her. She pulled her fingers across her lips, feigning a zipping motion.

“She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either, so I'd say we're now partners in crime,” she laughed, but held the clothes back from you. “These are mine. Yours are on the bed.”

“Huh?” You asked, giving her a blatant look of confusion.

“I’m sleeping out here. You take the bed,” she returned lightly and before you could retort she gently began to corral you towards her bedroom.

“Jessie.” You protested. “Are you nuts? I’m taking the couch.”

“Incorrect,” she refuted before giving you one final, soft push into the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked up at the ceiling, seeming to calculate something in her head. “6 am?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, still giving her a lingering look of disapproval. Before you could conjure a retort, she went on.

"This is my house, so what I say goes," she said rather haughtily, coupled with a subtle smirk. She was evidently very pleased with herself and her mannerisms had you too distracted, a small flutter echoing in your chest, so you let it be. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Okay. Well, if you change your mind - feel free to kick me out. Of your bedroom or the apartment - either is fine.”

“Now who’s nuts,” she quipped. Her light and easy demeanour wavered slightly as she paused in the doorway and ran a hand through her hair. “Um, well, bathroom’s through there. Help yourself to whatever. Good night.”

You were still in vague disbelief about how the last part of the night had unfolded as you lay in Jessie’s bed, wearing her clothes. Had you previously imagined being in Jessie’s bed? Yes. Did you imagine this? No. Certainly not.

All things considered, you slept pretty well. You didn't expect yourself to, so it was a surprise when your alarm went off. It took you a few moments for your mind to reconcile the unfamiliar surroundings, but you quickly came to. You sat up, the first rays of morning light illuminating the room and you observed them in a more lucid headspace than you had the night before.

The room was neat, organized, minimalistic in a way, but still had plenty of things that made it Jessie. A few framed photos of family and friends, her camera, a few, select books neatly displayed, some cute trinkets from her trips around the globe - no medals on display though. How typical.

A sound from the kitchen pulled you from your observations with a frown. You thought you were hearing things at first until you heard a few more faint sounds.

You quickly got changed and tentatively opened the bedroom door a crack to peer out. Not only was Jessie up already, she was in the middle of making breakfast. You opened the door the rest of the way with a puzzled look on your face. She turned to you with a smile.

"Morning! How did you sleep?"

"How long have you been up?" You asked instead. She glanced at her watch.

"I don't know. 30 minutes maybe? So, how did you sleep?" She repeated her inquiry.

"Shockingly well," you replied with a light laugh as you leaned on the kitchen counter and watched her work. "How about you? Miss I-insist-on-taking-the-couch."

She shot you a smirk over her shoulder as she scrambled the eggs in the frying pan. "I slept perfectly well, thank you," she relayed pointedly. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Please."

"Black, right?"

You smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Nope, just about done," she told you as she handed you a travel mug with steaming hot coffee. "For the road," she explained.

You watched Jessie as she turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. For a split second, you pictured yourself as a couple in this moment. Easy mornings together, sharing breakfast and coffee, talking about your day ahead, kissing each other goodbye and going your separate ways until you came home to one another. You cleared your throat and shook out your head subtly as you came back to reality. You didn't want to get too far ahead of yourself.

You both ate a quick breakfast together, and took your toast and coffee to go. Jessie navigated through traffic on the way to your apartment. You scolded yourself internally for how you found something as simple as Jessie driving, attractive. Okay, maybe you really had it bad for her.

"I have to say, I feel like I'm 18 again or something," you joked. "Getting 4 hours of sleep, going through a whole bunch of hoops just to get to school - or work in this case - on time. It's ridiculous. But it was fun." You took a sip of your coffee. "I bet you were in bed by 10 every night in uni - minus late game nights, if that was a thing. But 8 hours of sleep, very responsible, all your readings and homework done."

Jessie shot you a mild glare.

"I've had some wild nights," she countered, not sounding entirely convincing, or even remotely, really. It endeared her to you more.

"Oh yeah, I bet you were a real bad girl," you teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and like you were."

You sat primly and gave her a sly smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and again, it felt like you were already something you were not. You found yourself lamenting your arrival as she pulled up to your building. Pushing aside your disappointment, you instead leaned over the middle console and gave Jessie a fleeting kiss on the cheek. She startled at the touch.

"Thanks for driving me. And for letting me spend the night. And for dinner," you frowned as you added things to the list. "I've gotta start pulling my weight here."

"No," she said in a strained voice, her cheeks flaring up as she glanced at you before her eyes darted away. She laughed nervously and scratched the back of her neck. "Don't mention it."

You gave her forearm a quick squeeze, a blush threatening to form on your own face at how firm the muscles were there, and stepped out of the car. You walked to your door, quickly strategizing if or when to turn back and wave when you heard her call out your name. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face.

"Uh, I could drive you to work? When you're ready?" She offered from the car through the now-open window. Her face burned impossibly brighter red. "It'll be faster than the bus."

You smiled openly at her.

"Oh, you're just spoiling me now." She smiled in return. "Well, who am I to say 'no'?" ------

A/N: Part Two is available here.

[negansfavlucille01]

JEALOUSY

Negan × female reader (Alexandrian reader, Rick's daughter)

Summary: Negan gets JEALOUS after he finds something in the readers room.

Warnings: 18+, smut, blowjob, spanking, fingering, clit rubbing, nipple sucking, unprotected sex, overprotective Negan.

Note: This is my first fic, so I don't know what I'm doing😅. Feel free to request some ideas for the future.

"Take your time. Make it good."

Olivia stuttered out a few words before rushing out of the kitchen.

"So, kid.. How about a tour around?" Carl sighed and began showing him around. Negan had taken off his boots and sock, enjoying the softness of the carpet. He checked out the sink, then some other rooms. There was one room that really had his attention. One that Carl didn't wanna show him. "C'mon, what's in there?"

"Nothing special." Carl mumbled.

Negan on the other side, wasn't having it. He opened the door anyway and stepped inside. There was a crib in one of the corners of the room, a bed in the other. He walked over to the crib and picked up Judith. "Look at this little angel..." He rocked her in his arms while she cooed softly.

"So, who's room is that?"

"Y/N's"

"Oh, Y/N's..."

Meanwhile you were just getting back from a supply run with your dad. You both got out of the truck, opening the trunk for Negan's men to see that everything was there.

"You go, I'll finish here." Rick said, while one of Negan's men was looking trough the stuff. You walked back to your house, your shorts lifting up a bit as you did so.

You saw Carl and Olivia sitting at the porch. Carl was holding Judith.

You entered the house without asking any questions. You took off your boots and started walking up the stairs to your room, stopping mid-stair when you heard someone shout "What the fuck?!".

You immediately recognized the voice. You continued walking. When you got to your room you sighed before opening the door. He was there, looking at your thrash bin that was next to your desk. You immediately regretted going in.

"Care to explained?" He said, looking up from the bin, while pointing at it.

"Ummm..." You were speechless. How do you explain that? He'd kill you.

"I want to know. Why do you have a condom in your thrash bin? A used condom."

"I think you can guess."

That only made it worse. He walked up, towering over you. You gulped as you felt his hot breath against your skin. "Who was it?"

"You don't know him..."

"I'd be very fucking glad to meet him, let me tell you that, sweetheart." He gently lifted your chin so you could look at him. It was like he was staring into your soul. His eyes were cold, almost showing no emotion, but there was one thing you could see. Jealousy.

"Get on your knees."

You accepted your faith, getting on you knees in front of him. You knew what he wanted, but you weren't gonna do anything else without a command. "You know what to do."

You nodded.

"So do it."

Lifting your hands off of your thighs where they were resting, you reached for his belt, unbuckling it. You unbuttoned and u zipped his pants, already seeing his hardness through them. Sliding them down along with his boxers, you couldn't help but stare at it. It was big with just the right amount of thickness and the tip was red, already leaking pre-cum.

You wrapped you hands around it, giving it a few strokes before he was solid like cement. Low groans escaped his mouth as you licked the tip, then further to his balls. You took him in your mouth, already gagging on the half of it.

"You can take more. You will take more." He grabbed a handful of hair and pushed you further until your nose was touching his public hair. "There you go. God, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth."

Your eyes watered from the need of oxygen. When he thought that was enough, he let you pull away, still keeping his hand in your hair. You took a deep breath before going back to pleasuring him with your mouth and hands. Soon you felt him twitch in your mouth, as he gripped your hair harder.

"Fuck, I'm close.. So fucking close."

He shoot his warm seed deep in your throat, groaning loudly before pulling you up on your feet. He kissed you harshly, tasting himself on your lips. Negan then pushed you onto the bed, towering over you. Spreading your legs open and setting between them, he kicked off his pants, that were gathered at his ankles. His jacked following, then his white barely see-through t-shirt. He threw them on the floor before focusing on getting you naked for him. He quickly slid off your shorts along with your panties, throwing them aside then ripping your tank top apart, leaving you only in your bra. You could see he was still mad, even tho he had that stupid grin on his face.

"You're mine from now on, capiche?"

You nodded but that wasn't enough for him. His rough hand slapped your ass, making you cry out.

"Yes. Yes, I understand..."

"Good." He reached behind your back, taking your bra off and throwing it to the pile of clothes on he floor. Immediately his lips were on your breast, sucking on the nipple, probably leaving a hickey. This made you moan like crazy, but it got even louder when he reached to rub your clit with his thumb while his two fingers entered you. Negan started pumping them in and out.

"You like that, baby?" His smirk got wider from the cute little noises you made. "Hell yeah, you do."

You whimpered when he pulled his fingers out, wanting more.

"Don't worry. That tight hole won't be unfilled for a long time." With that, he slammed into you, making you scream out. His hand quickly covered your mouth, muffins your cries. Negan's face buried in your neck as he started moving at a slow pace at first. He kissed your neck as you moaned from the feeling of his cock stretching your out. His pace fastened, as he was leaving wet kisses and love bites on your neck and collarbone. He was now fucking you mercilessly. "What, your tight little cunt can't take me all?"

That nasty grin on his face remained as he was giving you pleasure and pain at the same time. You were clinging to him, scratching his back and shoulders. He groaned as your nails dig into his flesh, but that didn't stop him from going.

"Negan..." You cried out, making him smirk even more.

"I know, baby. I know..."

Your walls tightened, signaling to him that you were close. He let out a low growl, buring his head even more in your neck. "I'm gonna cum.."

"Give it to me, baby. Give me everything you have.."

You came with a loud scream, his name coming out of your lips. He kept thrusting, chasing for his orgasm and soon enough you felt him twitch inside you.

"Oh, I'm gonna cum. Can I cum in this tight pussy?"

"What?! No, Ne-"

"That's a yes." He interrupted you before you could finish.

"No, Negan, please don't.."

"I'm gonna fill you up so good.."

You moaned as he shot his hot cum into you. Not that you minded, you just didn't wanna get pregnant yet. But it felt so good that you wanted to do it again. He was panting softly, still groaning. He dropped his weight on you, careful not to crush your tiny body. He finally pulled out, as you whimpered at the loss off him in you, already missing the feeling of him.

"We're definitely doing this again."

"Agreed..."

"I want you to remember who you belong to, princess."

[zahri-melitor]

One of the many tragedies of Jack Drake is that not only was he bad at being a parent, but that he had the perfect person to discuss how hard the experience was for him right there and yet the only conversation they ever have about parenting Tim is conducted at gunpoint.

Because look at Jack Drake. As far as he was concerned, he had everything under control until Janet died and his world fell apart.

Tim was a Good Kid™ as a kid. He was well behaved and polite and not a difficult child and that's obvious from the fact that many of his memories of his parents together are of being taken out in public. Jack and Janet had one kid and they clearly wanted that kid to enjoy the same things they did, so they took him with them to restaurants and museums and art galleries and the opera. And he enjoyed it and enjoyed that time with them.

Jack however clearly saw his role as a father and a husband in the very traditional position as the main provider. It was his job to work and bring in the income that supported their lifestyle (his depressive episode after losing the company and their having to move makes it very clear how much of his self-worth was tied up in that role). He had a son, but his time with Tim was pretty clearly about taking Tim out with him on a Saturday afternoon to watch sport, or play tennis with his friends, or go to the monster trucks, or go fishing: being able to spend a few hours with Tim and show him off to his friends and then return home and someone else took over looking after Tim. And in his mind, he clearly thought he was a good parent! He spent time with his son! His son was a credit who was worth showing off! He could take Tim with him when he and Janet went out for the evening, and Tim could be relied upon to behave. He was winning at being a father!

The part Jack never realised, of course, was that like many men in his position, he'd handed the day to day logistics of raising a kid over to his wife (Janet) and to people he paid to do it for him (Tim's boarding school). He wasn't the disciplinarian parent. He was the 'fun' parent, who got to have the good times with his child.

If Jack was ever actually involved in decisions about discipline and consequences of actions, it was probably at the ultimate stage: the 'wait til your father gets home' sort of threat. The nuclear option. He didn't handle the everyday stuff - he probably never SAW the everyday stuff.

So, Jack thinks he's a great parent. He can brag to his friends about how well behaved HIS child is, unlike those little ruffians you see screaming in public or whose parents can't take them anywhere because they're disruptive.

Then his world falls apart. He's injured and disabled and grieving. He's a single dad. And the kid he's got is suddenly not the child he remembers. Tim frequently acts out, lies, runs away and comes home with bruises and notes from school saying they’re worried something is going on. He also starts dating and possibly trying to have sex ‘too young’ (being caught with Ariana sleeping over and the couch situation, Steph being pregnant even if Tim insisted it wasn't his).

Jack Drake has to suddenly step up to be the main parent of a 14 year old who he's probably never had that dynamic with. He doesn't have the years of experience in how Tim reacts to various forms of boundaries and punishments, because he's never been the one who set them or enforced them. He's probably never sat down and talked to Tim about his feelings in his life. And Tim, I repeat, is fourteen years old, possibly one of the most difficult ages for a kid. Everyone's 14 year olds are suddenly more difficult than usual and pushing boundaries.

On top of that, he's got to learn this all on the fly, in circumstances where he basically has no support. "Help, I'm a new single father to a teenager' isn't really a genre of self help book or parenting group that gets a lot of love - most people who are single parents aren't men, and most people looking for advice on dealing with problems with raising their kids are talking about under-5s, because by the time kids are out of the toddler stage most parents have a reasonable idea of what works and what doesn't, have networks set up, and are usually reaching out for a bit of advice or support about a specific situation, not Dealing With It All.

What Jack really needs is a buddy or two who are also single fathers to teenage boys, who have experience navigating this, maybe who also acquired responsibility for their son in his teen years. Wow. I mean that's a big ask, but funnily enough, there's someone who lives right next door who exactly fits that description...

(The tragedy that Bruce and Jack only ever have the one discussion about parenting Tim, the kid they've been effectively co-parenting since Tim was 13 years old, and that that discussion took place with Jack holding a gun on Bruce).

So of course Jack is terrible at being a parent to Tim. He's inexperienced, he doesn't have any support, he doesn't SEEK support outside of marrying Dana (and Dana clearly while lovely is both ineffective and reluctant to interfere in Jack and Tim's relationship). Now, he fails on very specific axes, in ways that are both understandable and also signs that Jack has a bad handle on his temper.

His go-to threat is sending Tim back to boarding school, because: when Tim was at boarding school, Jack didn't have any discipline issues with Tim! It clearly worked!; Tim doesn't want to go back to boarding school, making it a threat to hold over him; again, Jack's seeing a kid who is sneaking around, lying, running away and he's at his wits end - there's a narrative in the circles he lives in that such kids DO need to be taught to behave and sending them to boarding school is a way to do that.

He runs hot and cold on paying attention to Tim because up until Tim was 14 that was...what he did! And it wasn't such an issue then, as he wasn't a single parent. And when he pays attention, he does tend to be focused (laser focused, in fact), in getting Tim out of No Man's Land, of the dramas at school during Cry of the Huntress when Jack's getting outraged over Tim's bruises and getting into fights, when he's arguing with Ariana's uncle over whether Tim and Ariana's relationship was going too far.

It's just that he never developed the day to day, in between level of parenting and boundary setting and discipline. He's got a temper, and he swings between "it'll be fine, Tim's a smart kid, I trust him" laid back permissiveness, and getting mad and going immediately to the nuclear option: "You are going back to boarding school!" and so on.

He doesn't know how to walk away and calm himself down when he's worked up. He's not particularly good at redirecting his aggression. And he gets easily frustrated, because in his mind everything went smoothly for years...until it was all his responsibility.

And the thing is, there are so many ways Jack could have tried harder to be a good parent, that were available to him. But because of his background and the culture he lived in and the demands of storytelling he never reached out for any of them.

(And Bruce was right there! They knew each other socially! Everyone knew Bruce had worked through having two teenage sons on his own! He could have asked for advice, and he even knew Bruce knew Tim, given Bruce had officially fostered Tim while Jack was in a coma and in hospital. If you were putting together a specific support group you'd kick yourself over how perfect this was)

It's just such a part of the tragedy of Jack Drake.

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Spencer looking after you when you get hurt on a stakeout

You'd been paired with a local officer, tasked with a night stakeout at a farm. The pair of you were supposed to watch for any activity, and report back any movement.

Which of course went pear shaped when the young, ambitious man you'd been placed with identified a missing person being led out of the main building. Faster than you could react to stop him, he'd thrown himself out the door, gun raised and ready and attempted to subdue the men.

Instead of impulsively running after him, you chose to stay back and call for help. Simultaneously pressing the distress button on the device Garcia had rather ingeniously insisted you all carry.

It pinged your location to all members of the team, and alerted them that whoever pressed it was in trouble.

Reaching the sheriff's department, you reported the activity and the officers mistake. Watching as they turned on him, you let out a gasp when one of the suspects didn't wait for him to finish the rest of his demands. Instead in the blink of an eye shot him, three times.

"Agent? Agent? Can you hear me, what's going on there?" The Detective who'd answered the phone asked you.

"They just killed him." You breathed, watching as they dragged his body away, the missing boy cowering against the side of the house. Before another one of the suspects grabbed onto him and dragged him away.

"Have they seen you? Are you compromised?"

"Maybe... I don't know. They-" you were cut off by the passenger door opening, revealing one of the men you'd been watching earlier that night.

Before you could reach for your gun, which was stupidly placed on the dashboard, he grabbed you by your hair and dragged you out of the car. Slamming you down onto the ground roughly, even your kevlar vest couldn't stop the air being knocked out of you.

Promptly followed by a hard kick to your stomach, making your chest go into spasm. Gasping in air, you could barely focus on where the next hit was coming from.

***

After what seemed like an eternity he finally let up, shoving you back into the gravel of the driveway and stalking off. Barking orders at the other men who had appeared from the shadows.

"Let's go boys, we need to ship out to location Tango. Got it?.. Let's go then. Her buddies will be here any moment." He called out, sparing a glance back to you.

Feeling entirely too conscious, you dared not move, not fancying another punch to the face.

Multiple cars started up and disappeared over the hills to the back of the property.

You curled onto your side, and tried to breathe in some even breaths. Trying to not focus on the pain all over, you managed to get yourself on all fours. Realising at some point he pulled your bulletproof vest off.

Maneuvering yourself so you were slowly leaning back against the tyre of the truck you were doing the stakeout in. The light from the houses and extra that had been switched on gave you a good look around. And also at yourself. Seeing there were blood splatters on your shirt. You tried not to imagine what you looked like.

Closing your eyes for a moment, taking slow deep breaths in to try and calm your racing heart.

Hearing the sound of gravel under tyres, you instantly panicked. A unexpected wave of adrenaline coarsed through you, giving you the energy needed to get yourself off the floor and in a better position to defend yourself in.

"Y/n?" Hotch's concerned shout fell of deaf ears as you scrambled to get into the car and grab your gun.

"Hey, no, no, no. It's us, calm down." A familiar voice soothed. Intercepting you and stopping your hand before it could pick up your weapon, that you hadn't had the chance to grab.

You hissed and winced as he touched you left wrist, a sickeningly sharp pain shooting up your arm.

"I'm sorry. What hurts?"

"Spence?" Seeing his face relaxed you instantly, "we need to be quick, they literally just left. Over that ridge up there. If we go now we could catch up with them."

Leaning down to get a look at you, some of his wild hair falling out of place as he fussed over you.

"You're not going anywhere, okay? You need to be seen to, what the hell happened? We got the distress ping and ran out the door."

He intercepted your attempt to grab the keys in the ignition. Taking them from you and putting them in his coat pocket.

"That stupid boy got himself killed. He ran over there, gun out, demanding they gave up the boy and that they were under arrest... There were three of them! To one of him, he was never going to subdue all of them."

"You did everything right, okay? He should never have tried to go after them. This group is far too organised for that."

"But I just sat here. I watched it happen, I-"

"Stop. I won't let you do this to yourself. Did you see the person who attacked you?"

"Yeah, he was young. Green eyes, bit of a beard. Around six-five. Probably mid thirties. Um- he was wearing a yellow plaid shirt with a puffer vest jacket. He had.." You trailed off, a piercing headache making you double over.

"That's amazing, y/n. Come on, the ambulance is over here." He said, curling his arm around your waist and helped you out of the car.

Spying Hotch looking over a map, you pulled away from Spencer and limped over to him. Spencer following close behind holding onto your wrist.

You looked at the map to get your bearings, finding the circled area you were in. You pointed at the hills behind the house.

"Y/n, have you seen a medic?" Aaron asked, frowning at you, one of the few facial expressions he had.

"No she hasn-" Spencer started, but you cut him off.

"They went over this ridge," you paused, steadying yourself on the bonnet of the truck, "if we leave now we could catch them."

"Okay, but you aren't going anywhere until you've been checked out. Reid. Make sure she gets medical attention." Hotch spoke to you and then to Spencer who was hovering worriedly.

"Hotch, please. We might not get another chance like this again." You tried, refusing to move from the car.

"Y/n that's not a suggestion. It's an order. Go." Hotch finalised, nodding to Spencer who supported you as he lightly pulled you back.

The medics met you halfway and started asking you an endless list of questions.

A suspected cracked rib and multiple bones in your wrist, concussion, and bruising all over. You were told to visit the hospital once you were back in the city. They strapped you up and gave you some painkillers.

"Where's Hotch?" You asked as Spencer helped you get down from the ambulance, "I've been checked out, I want to help."

"They've headed back to the station. We can't just go roaming across the hills looking for people in the dark. Y/n, it's too dangerous."

"Spencer, come on. We won't get another chance like this."

"We will, okay? I promise you they won't get away. You think any of us will let you go out like this? You need x-rays, anti-inflammatory medication, potentially a CT scan, and most of all rest. Hotch wants you on two weeks leave, after you leave the hospital."

"No," you exclaimed exasperated, "I need you to do a cognitive interview on me."

"Okay. But not now." He spoke softly, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

"Why not now?"

"Because you've spent the last ten minutes digging your nails into your palm. And you only do that when you're in pain."

You instantly released your clenched fist. Not realising you'd even being doing it.

Releasing a deep breath, you were finally ready to admit defeat. Nodding, you let him lead you back to the car you'd come in.

The drive back was comfortably silent, Spencer looking over to check on you occasionally. You sighed on arriving at the closest hospital.

"I know okay. But do you really want me lecturing you about all the reasons you should follow the medics advice and get to the hospital immediately?"

Shaking your head, you sent a small smile his way.

[roosterforme]

Would you write us a mini blurb of Kylie trying to steal Jake and then her trying to get with the other daggers. Would love to see Jake call her out for being a shitty friend and crappy person in general. Then watch him hype up his girl and she comes along and watch’s the whole thing unfold. would be amazing.

I've been thinking about this scenario all week! Kylie would sabotage her friendship with Darlin' (or what's left of it) just to have even the slightest chance to get some attention from Jake. I mentioned that she definitely hit on him at the bar before Darlin' formally introduced them, but apparently that rejection from Jake early on wasn't enough.

"I can't believe I'm graduating in a week," you moaned. Jake had you pinned up against your bedroom wall in your tiny apartment that you shared with Kylie. He was pretty sure your roommate heard the two of you having sex last night; the wall between the bedrooms seemed to be paper thin, and she barely looked at either of you all day while you moved your stuff out.

"And you're moving in with me today," Jake grunted, kissing along your neck as you sighed in contentment. "You're a busy girl, Darlin'."

There were only a few boxes that still needed to make their way to his truck, and while the two of you barely spent any time here together, he was feeling a little nostalgic. There was that one weekend when Kylie was in Mexico and the power was out at his place where the two of you made love on the living room floor. And your bed frame was bent after the week of spring break when he fucked you so hard, the metal got warped.

"This was a good apartment," he murmured, and you laughed in response.

"You told me so many times you hated sleeping over here!"

Jake took a step away from you, and stacked up three boxes to take to his truck. "I hated having to be quiet and get fully dressed before I could leave your bedroom. But there were some good times," he replied with a wink. "I'll run these outside and be right back."

You followed him as far as your apartment door, saying, "I'll check my mailbox one last time and meet you back up here."

Then you went right while he went left, and it only took Jake a minute to throw the boxes into his truck and sprint back upstairs. He was just getting himself a drink of water when he heard you walk back in.

"Hey, Dar-" But it wasn't you. It was your almost former roommate. "Hey, Kylie."

"Jake," she replied with a smile, making his name sound idiotically like it was three syllables long. "Let me see your phone?"

He took a long sip of water before he finally asked, "Why?"

"Just let me see it." She reached out and poked his phone in his jeans pocket, and he took a step backwards, spilling his water down the front of his shirt.

"Why?" he asked again, this time anger seeped into his voice.

"So you can have my number. For when you get bored."

He was so confused now. "Bored?" He would never be bored enough to want to talk to her, but then she said something that really made him mad.

"Yeah... bored with your relationship."

He stood completely still, and the expression on his face must have scared her, because her hand froze on the way back to his pocket. "You know what? You're a really shitty friend."

"No, I'm not," she said with a shrug, still trying to be coy.

But Jake snapped. "What is it exactly? You're mad that you were able to collect all the other guys, but not me? Or you're bitchy because she didn't have to do anything except be herself to make me fall in love with her?"

"What's going on?" you asked from the doorway. When Jake looked at you, there was uncertainty in his eyes, which made him sick.

"Absolutely not a damn thing," he practically growled. He took the mail from your hand and shoved it into the last box with your name on it. Then he picked it up and wrapped his free hand around your waist. "Say goodbye to Kylie. We won't be seeing her again."

Then he led you out to his truck without a backward glance and drove you to his place where you would never be treated badly if he had anything to say about it.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Locked In

Ah, the classic forced proximity trope (I'm such a sucker for this). This idea was suggested by @blueberrysquire so thank you very much! This one's for you, I hope you like the fic!

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Sho Haizono x gn! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k (2,170 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sho get stuck in a classic forced proximity trope. What will happen when you have no choice but to confront your feelings for each other?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sho was going to kill Leo this time.

He really was. Sure, he’d said that before and Leo had talked his way out of it or Sho’s anger had dissipated once the issue was passed. But this time, he was serious.

That grey-haired idiot had pushed him too far this time and Sho was going to kill him.

What had happened to get him to that point? Simple.

The food truck had been a great success. Better than he’d ever imagined it would be. Each day came with more and more customers and, while Sho was happy his cooking was finally getting the recognition it deserved, that also meant more and more trips to and from the storage room to replenish his ingredients.

And then there were your visits. At the end of every day, Sho would experiment with whatever leftover ingredients he had on hand and make up new dishes. And somehow, you’d found out about this routine and started dropping by just as he was closing up for a free feed of whatever he decided to cook up that day.

Not that he minded the company. In fact, far from it. Despite his initial mental refusal, Sho had started developing something of a crush on you ever since your support of his food truck idea. He’d been around Leo so long, all it took was a few kind, encouraging words from you to get his heart racing.

And then, just as he was starting to accept his feelings, the last person he ever wanted to find out, found out.

~

“What, you got a crush on the NPC or something?”

Sho turned his back on where Leo was sitting and concentrated on not burning the chicken he was cooking.

It was the middle of the lunch hour and, as usual, Leo had dropped by to “help out” and “keep Sho company”. Of course, Leo’s version of helping was sitting nearby and gossiping about everyone on campus.

Today, he had been gossiping about you, the Honour Roll, the NPC, who was going around being a goody two shoes and helping all the houses with their unresolved daddy issues. Or mummy issues. Depending on who it was.

Sho had been distracted by his cooking and had made the stupid mistake of defending you.

And that was all the encouragement Leo had needed.

“Oh my god, you do!”

Sho refused to turn around. He could already imagine the look on Leo’s face, smug and vaguely disgusted at the notion of his friend having a crush on someone. And he refused to let Leo see the blush that had spread across his cheeks.

“Really? Honour Roll?” Leo sighed, “You’ve got to improve your taste. But whatever floats your boat, I guess. Could be fun after all.”

At that, Sho turned to face his friend. “No. No, no, no. Don’t you dare. I know that tone. You’re going to keep out of this. I don’t want any dares or bets or gambles. You’re going to keep your pointy nose out of this for once. Okay?”

A slow grin spread across Leo’s face. “You really like them, don’t you?”

Sho felt his face begin to burn again and turned back to the stove. “What is it to you?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

But Sho knew it was never just nothing with Leo.

~

Which brought him to today. The food truck had been exceptionally busy, even by his standards and by the end of the day, he’d had barely any ingredients left over to cook dinner for the two of you. He was just considering another supply run when your voice broke him from his thoughts.

“How was the truck today?”

You were standing in the door, grinning at him and he had to bite back a goofy smile of his own. Sure, he liked you but that was no reason to go blurting his feelings out so obviously.

“Busy. I’m all out of ingredients. No dinner today.”

Sho watched your face fall, then lift as you scrambled to cover your slip up. “Oh, that’s all good. Can’t get a free feed all the time I suppose.”

Sho nodded, letting the moment drag out before he let himself laugh, a smile breaking across his face. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I was about to go do another trip to pick up some fresh ingredients for dinner. I have to eat too after all.”

The way your face lit up was all worth it and Sho felt his heart race faster.

“C’mon. You can tag along this time. Since I’ve got to get the ingredients, you can pick what we have tonight.” He untucked his tie from where it had been sitting in his chest pocket and walked over to join you at the door.

On the walk across to the storage room Sho let his mind wander as you ranted about your day. Apparently, the latest house you had been assigned to was full of weirdos and you had no idea how you were going to make them all want to work together.

 “And then they decide to just leave. I mean who does that?”

Sho shook his head, smiling at your incredulous tone as he unlocked the storage room door. Leaving the key in the lock, he gestured you through, turning on the light with his outstretched hand. You pushed past him and he tried not to relish the warmth from your body.

“So, what’s on the menu?”

You made a humming noise as you looked over the shelves. Sho followed you into the room so he could better see what ingredients your eyes lingered over.

And then the door slammed shut.

Sho spun on his heel to try but it was far too late to prevent it from closing. He sighed and placed a hand on the door handle. But just as he was about to turn it to open the door a click came from the other side.

Sho felt panic build in him and tried to turn the handle. It didn’t move.

“Yeah, I locked it.”

Sho covered his hands, trying not to yell. Of course Leo was poking his nose into Sho’s business. And of course he would take matters into his own hands in this way.

“Leo. Unlock the door. It’s not funny.” Sho glanced behind him to see how you were holding up. Being locked in a room was never fun, even if there was plenty of food around. You looked more annoyed than concerned and Sho remembered that, even if he’d known Leo longer, you’d still had to put up with your fair share of his nonsense.

Leo made a tutting noise. “Uh uh uh. You and Honour Roll aren’t getting out of there until things get cleared up between you two. I don’t care how it gets resolved. As long as you leave that room with…no secrets.”

Sho turned away from you quickly, hoping you didn’t notice the blush on his face. “Unlock the door.”

“Enjoy!”

“Leo.”

Silence.

“Leo!”

Sho banged on the door with an open palm but there was still no reply. Leo must have walked away. Sho could imagine him going, swinging the key in one hand.

He sighed, resting his head against the door. He was pretty strong, maybe he could break down the door. But no, this room was specially designed to survive the brunt of ghoul strength to prevent theft. He’d left his phone in the kitchen, assuming it would be a quick trip to the storage room and back. And he’d seen you put your bag down inside the kitchen door and he guessed your phone was in there. Unless you were able to think of a plan to get out, you’d both be trapped until Leo took mercy and came back with the keys.

“So. Guess we’re stuck in here huh?”

Sho turned around slowly, almost dreading your expression. But other than lingering annoyance that he hoped was because of Leo, you didn’t look that put out by being forced to spend possibly hours in a locked room with him. Sho decided to take that as a good sign.

“Seems like it. Sorry.”

You shook your head. “Nah, all good. I didn’t have any plans tonight anyway. I don’t mind spending time with you. Despite the circumstances.”

Sho exhaled through his nose and sat down cross legged on the floor. He gestured for you to do the same. “No point in staying standing.”

You nodded your agreement as you lowered yourself to the floor and mirrored his position. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

~

The conversation had been flowing better than Sho could have hoped. Usually, you talked while he cooked and listened so it was a nice change being able to have a proper two way conversation with you. But it had reached a natural lull and you were both staring at the ingredients, trying not to make the situation awkward.

What was Leo anyway? There was no way of telling the time in the storage room but it had to have been a while. Surely he wasn’t going to leave them there overnight?

Then again, this was Leo. Even Sho didn’t know what he was capable of.

“Hey, Leo said something about clearing the air right?”

Oh no.

“Do you know what that was all about?”

No, no no.

“I think things are great between us. Even when we’re locked in a room, it doesn’t get weird.”

He was going to kill Leo.

“Nah, who knows what he was on about. Probably some new trend he saw on TikTok.”

You uncrossed your legs and spun around onto your hands and knees, crawling towards him. “You sure? It’s nothing like ‘you have a crush on me and you’ve been talking about me to Leo and he’s finally had enough so he locked us in this room to get you to confess’?”

Sho’s mouth hung open despite the voice in his brain screaming at him to get it together. You were just hypothesising, you didn’t know how he felt. But you were getting closer and your face was on level with his and the rest of his brain was short circuiting and he wasn’t sure he trusted his voice at the moment.

You paused. “It’s not that is it?” Silence. “Is it?” More silence as Sho looked away feeling his cheeks heating up. “It is.” You leant back, sitting down with a thump. Sho couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “Oh my god. It is that.”

Sho cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but you raised a hand and he dared to glance at your face.

It was flushed and you were avoiding his eyes as carefully as he and just been avoiding yours. “Just…just give me a second.”

Sho nodded and leaned back against the door, bringing a slightly trembling hand to his head to brush back his hair.

“So, you like me?” Your voice was stronger and, despite the flush that was still evident, you were about to meet his eyes.

Sho nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I didn’t expect you to find out this way though.”

You let out a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting to tell you I like you back this way either.”

Sho blinked, letting your words sink in. You liked him back. You. Liked him. You liked him as well. His feelings were mutual.

He felt a smile begin to spread across his face and saw the same grin mirrored on your face. “You like me too?”

You nodded. Sho wasn’t sure which of you moved first but the next thing he knew, you were hugging him and he was hugging you back and everything felt right in the world, even if you two were still locked in the storage room.

You pulled back from the hug, keeping your faces close together. Sho felt a fluttering in his chest as you began to draw closer…and closer…

And then fluorescent light bathed the two of you as the door swung open and Leo shone a torch down on the two of you.

“Well, that took longer than I thought. If it hadn’t wrapped up soon, I was going to have to leave you two there until morning.”

“Were you sitting outside that whole time listening in?” Sho felt you stiffen in his arms as you realised your private conversation may not have been so private after all.

“Well I had to know when to let you two out. Really Sho, after all that and your secret got blurted out before you had the chance to tell her yourself. I’m ashamed.”

Sho gently pushed you away from him and began to rise to his feet. He stretched a hand down to you and help you up as well. Once you were upright, he smiled at you.

“You want to help me kill him?”

Your grin returned, clearly seeing the sparkle in his eyes. “Could be a fun first date.”

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[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Thirteen - The Funfair

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"The fair," she said over the phone as she walked around the park with Milo. "We take the kids to the fair and we'll call it a second date."

Although she couldn't see it, Daniel smiled down the phone. He couldn't stop himself from grinning, even if his eyes were only half open. "Milo and I are walking past it now," he heard her say.

"How does it look, is it huge?" He asked as he laid back, his head against the headboard.

Suddenly Y/N wasn't speaking to him anymore. "Hi Mr Ricciardo!" Came Milo's excited voice. "The fair is massive! They've got lots and lots and lots of rides and mamma said they're setting up food trucks!" He said quickly, more evidence of his excitement.

But then Y/N was speaking again. "Sorry about that," she said. "But yeah, the fair looks great. They've got four rides, by the looks of things. Different booths and games and, like Milo said, food trucks."

"Olivia will love it," he said and yawned.

A yawn that Y/N apparently heard down the phone. "What's the time where you are?" She asked rather softly.

Daniel checked his watch. "Just gone midnight," he said. It was hard being half way across the world and trying to keep in contact with Y/N. She was asleep when he was awake, and she was awake when he was racing or asleep. Most of all, though? He missed Olivia. She was with her mother for the week and the updates he got were from Y/N.

"Good luck tomorrow," she said. "I'll be watching."

That brought a smile to his tired face. "I'll give you a wave," he said. Again, he yawned.

She was starting to feel guilty about it, about keeping Daniel awake when he needed his rest. "Uh, we've just gotten to the swings," she said. "Can I call you again after your race?"

"Sure," Daniel said quickly, his tiredness seemly disappearing. He didn't want her to go, and he didn't want to be the reason she did. "I'll see you when I'm home, okay?"

"Goodbye, Daniel," she said. As soon as he said his goodbyes in return, Y/N slipped her phone into her pocket and opened the gates to the playpark for Milo.

Immediately he ran over to the swings. "Mamma!" He called and she walked after him. "How about we get an ice cream after this?" She offered and Milo set out a cheer. She began pushing him on the swings.

As much as she could, Y/N tried to avoid Daniel's ex. But she was constantly looking out for Olivia, and that meant running into the woman.

Whether she'd seen them on the television, as much of the world had, it wasn't clear. But she hated Milo's momma, that was for sure. Their run ins were almost daily. Every day that Olivia was in daycare, she immediately ran to Y/N first. That meant that Y/N had to go over to Daniels ex, to hand Olivia off to her (even if it was somewhat painful).

On this day, though, Daniel was meant to return. "Miss L/N!" She called as she followed Milo.

"Hi Livvy," she called back as she took Milo's bag from him.

"My daddy comes home today," Olivia said, beaming with pride.

Just as she said she would, Y/N had watched the race the night before. Daniel had driven exceptionally well, finishing within the top ten and scoring points for his team. He was so fucking happy when he climbed out of the car and waved at the camera.

Y/N couldn't stop smiling at that. She knew just who that wave was for, and it made her so fucking happy. Not getting a full eight hours was worth it to watch Daniel drive. She taped it, ensuring that Milo could watch it the next day after daycare.

"I know, Livvy," Y/N said with a smile. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn't check it. "Is he picking you up, or are your grandparents here?"

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she said and Y/N looked around for any sign of her family. Until one of them turned up, she and Milo were going to stay there with her.

The 2006 Toyota Hilux pulled up outside of the daycare gates. Before Y/N could get a better hold of her, Olivia went running towards the car. "Livvy!" Y/N shouted as she went to chase after her, with Milo following close behind.

But it wasn't a dangerous stranger that climbed out of the car. Mr Daniel Ricciardo, wearing shorts that showed off his thigh tattoo, stepped out of his car and scooped his daughter into his arms. For once he had no hat on his head, revealing his mess of curls.

"I missed you, Badger," he said, but nobody but Olivia could hear it. She squealed as her father picked her up and placed her on his hip.

He looked past Olivia, looked straight at Y/N. "Hi," she said as she walked towards him, holding out Olivia's bag for him to take.

"Hi," Daniel replied as he took the bag from her and swung it over his shoulder.

Was it too early to tell him that she missed him? Daniel wanted to say it too, but neither of them did. They held back, just smiling at each other, trying to work out what too say as the other parents filed out of the car park.

"It suits you," she said, nodding to the bag.

Daniel grinned as he turned it towards her, showing it off like a teenaged girl. "It's the latest fashion."

"Hi Mr Ricciardo!" Milo called as he waved at him.

"Hi Milo." Daniel waved back at him and turned his attention to Y/N. "If you're not doing anything this evening, do you wanna go to the fair?" He asked.

Y/N looked down at her clothes, at her work outfit. But then she looked at Milo, at the way he was using his eyes to beg her. "Sure," she said. "We'll follow you there."

As Daniel took Olivia to his car, Y/N took Milo back to her car. She strapped him in and climbed into the front. She pulled her car up behind Daniel and he started driving, the two of them heading towards the fair.

The funfair in the park was quiet on a Monday evening. There were a few school kids with their parents, and several high school kids running around. Y/N and Daniel walked side by side as the kids ran ahead in front of them. They never strayed too far, though, not unless they wanted to be called back by their parents.

"I watched your race," Y/N said as they walked around. "Very impressive driving, Mr Ricciardo."

"I got you something," he said suddenly and Y/N quickly turned her head towards him, eyes wide.

Daniel fished through the pockets of his shorts and pulled something out. Thank God they were walking side by side, or she wouldn't have been able to stop staring at his thigh tattoo. "Danny," she said as he held the brown package towards her. "You shouldn't have."

"Just open it."

She pulled the tiny brown package open. It was so small it easily fit in the palm of her hand. She opened the small piece of tape holding the brown paper bag closed and let the item fall into her hand.

It was a fridge magnet in the shape of a Formula One track. She wasn't yet familiar enough with Formula One to know which track it was, but Silverstone was printed across it. "From my race," Daniel said, shrugging like it was nothing.

But to Y/N it was everything.

"Thank you," she said and placed the magnet into her bag. "It means the world."

Daniel walked around, the widest grin on his face after that. And Y/N? Well she was holding his hand.

Milo and Olivia went running towards the spinning teacups. Daniel paid for the kids to ride the ride, the two of them squealing as the teacups spun.

They stood, leaning against each other as they watched their kids on the ride. "Does this count as our second date?" Asked Daniel as he stood with his arm around Y/N.

She touched over his 3 tattoo on his finger. "I think so," she said, as she watched the yellow teacup spin. "What're we gonna do for our third date?"

"I think I have an idea," he said as the ride came to a stop.

Milo and Olivia led the way around the funfair. Y/N bought them all greasy, unhealthy food from a food truck, but only because Daniel insisted on paying for all of the rides and games.

While Milo and Olivia were on one ride, Daniel disappeared, leaving Y/N to watch the kids. His muttered excuse fell on deaf ears as Y/N watched them.

By the time he returned the ride had ended and Milo, Olivia and Y/N were looking around for him. Y/N held both of the kids as they desperately searched for him.

When they saw Daniel, he was walking towards the three of them, grinning with his hands held behind his back. It was a sight he could get used to, walking towards Y/N as she held his daughter.

"Where did you go?" Y/N asked as she let Olivia run towards her father.

Daniel didn't take Olivia's hand as he held towards them. He kept them held behind his back. As soon as he and Olivia were once again with Y/N and Milo, he held out one hand towards Milo.

In that hand was a dinosaur teddy bear. Milo grabbed and held it tight. "Thank you, Mr Ricciardo!" He cried as he squeezed the teddy against his body.

Daniel reached behind himself and brought forward another teddy in his left hand. His right was still held behind his back. This time he pulled out a dog teddy and handed it to Olivia. "Thank you, daddy," Olivia said as she looked at her spotty dog teddy. She loved it.

He turned his attention to Y/N. She never expected that he'd have something for her, but he did. He brought forward a pink teddy bear that had a plush bouquet of roses stitched into the hand.

"Danny," Y/N said as she took the bear. "You really shouldn't have."

He just shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

Holding the bear by her side, Y/N stepped towards him and kissed his cheek. But that wasn't enough for her. "Fuck it," she whispered ever so quietly in his ear before she kissed him.

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