#woman needs to lay off the redbulls

[urlredacted]

work had a pumpkin decorating competition and i was the only one deemed creative enough to do anything about it

[for those of you at home who may wanna play along:

orange:

purple:

green:

pink:

thank you for coming to my tedTalk]

[adventuringblind]

Daddy Issues

Max verstappen x reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Both you and Max have similar daddy issues. How do you comfort eachother in times of need?

Warnings: DADDY ISSUES GALORE, depictions of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, anger issues, Google translated Dutch (I know two other languages and neither if them is dutch)

Notes: Not proofread (we die like Charles Leclerc's car at the 2023 Brisish GP FP2), third-person POV

Masterlist // Part Two // Part three

Sometimes, her love story with Max felt like that of Romeo and Juliette. That's what she likes to tell herself as their dads once again go to war with their respective children.

How either of them had made it this far in life, she had no clue.

This particular night was Max's turn to receive a phone call. The two lovers had been laying in bed during the winter break, keeping eachother warm, when the phone started buzzing.

Max had taken one look at the caller ID and debated whether to just let it ring through or answer. The latter being the better decision or else he would get that added to the procrastinated verbal slaps his father likes to give freely.

The Dutch picked up the phone and pulled the woman close to him in the same motion.

"Hello." His voice is rough, his annoyance becoming apperant in this moment.

Jos' voice through the phone was so loud she didn't even have to try and listen. It was as if he was in the room with them.

She ran her fingers through his hair as he did his best to keep his composure.

"Have you been practicing with the sim?"

"Yes."

"Good, wouldn't want you getting worse or being distracted by the female in your house over the break," he laughed.

Max's free hand entwined with hers. The woman proceding to squeeze his three times. A silent I love you for time like this.

"Maybe you can finally put her to use if you were smart."

A blow to both of them. She had winced only a little, but it didn't go unnoticed. Max brought her knuckles to his mouth and silently let his lips graze them.

"Next race I expect to see you make less mistakes and if there is more then you only have yourself and the women to blame."

"Goodnight dad."

Max quickly hung up the phone and tossed it aside.

She, however, took a different approach and jumped out of the bed. Her now cold body running to the kitchen. Max close behind her.

"I've decided we need hot chocolate." She stated before he could even get the question out.

The two spend the rest of the night cuddling with hot chocolate and watching kids' movies.

The words of Jos are not easily forgotten, but maybe Max could find a way to heal regardless.

The next time something like this happened, it was her turn.

Unfortunately for her, they were at a race. Her parents wanted to come because it's a race in her home country. Spending the day with their daughter, who lives far away now, sounds great in theory.

It had started tame. The three of you sitting in the Redbull hospitality catching up until she went to go find some of your friends and wish them luck.

Thankfully, Lando was walking by and spotted her.

"Hey (Y/N)!" He shouted. Successfully grabbing her attention. The woman waved and made it three steps forward before her dad had placed his hand on her shoulder.

Startled, she spun around and put some distance between them.

"We need to talk." The older man crossed his arms.

Immediately, her body felt like she was a child again. Her shoulders sagged but looked him in the eyes anyway. Knowing if she didn't, he would become more upset.

"I know me and your mom aren't the most rich people, but at least we gave you a better childhood thank ours." He sighed and let out a small laugh. Something he did to make her believe she wasn't in trouble. "You could be a little more grateful to us before running off with some guy who has more than us."

"I'm sorry," was all she could muster.

Thankfully, lando had come over to say hello after she had finished her conversation. He waited, not wanting to interrupt. Until he heard the apology, then he decided to gently step in.

"(Y/N)! Glad I caught you! Max wanted to see you before qualifying." The Brit felt proud of himself for how smooth that sounded.

"Oh do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, follow me." He gestured with his head the direction they were going to head.

"I'll talk to you later, dad." She smiled sadly. Then, she turned to follow Lando.

The two walked in silence to the Redbull garage. Lando not wanting to push the woman and her attempting to swallow her tears before having to talk to Max. Stressing him out before he needed to race was not on her agenda today.

When Max spotted her coming into the garage, he jogged over, greeting his love and his friend with a bright smile.

"What are you doing down here? I thought you were up in hospitality?" He asked.

Max's eyes dart between the two. Taking in the sheepish smile of one and a mixture of sadness and confusion on the other.

Lando turns to look at the woman beside him. "Sorry about lying to you, but I heard what your dad was saying to you..." He trails.

Max's face drops. Suddenly understanding why she had come with a sullen expression.

"It's okay Lan, thank you for rescuing me."

"Anytime." He nods before making his way out of the garage.

Max places his hands on her shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it now, or do you want a hug?"

She doesn't respond. Instead, she embraces him, inhaling his scent and listening to the sound of his heart.

"Race first, talk later." She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek for goodluck.

Max understanding her needs and how she is feeling, helped put the words of her dad into the back of her brain.

The following incident happened in the two's shared home. Jos had cone knocking at the door while Max was away grabbing some essentials for dinner that night. She regretted not going with him now. Opting to get things ready and started while Max was away.

"Oh, it's you." Jos sneered. Practically shoving her out of the way to get inside the apartment. "Where is my son?"

"He's at the store grabbing things for dinner, but I think he'll be back shortly." The young woman closes the door but hardly moves, barely a breath entering her lungs.

Dealing with Jos on her own was always a difficult task. Often fighting with herself between being on the defensive and provoking him more, or just staying quiet. Normally, she opted for the latter.

"You should really consider leaving him now. It'll hurt him less, and he'll be able to focus on what's important again." His eyes burn on her. "Have you still not understood that you are hindering him?! He has been making more mistakes since you seduced him."

She lost her grip for a moment, her mouth letting the words slip before her frontal lobe could fully process.

"Have you ever considered that encouraging and being proud of him might help him more than the constant berating?"

Jos' face went red, his jaw clenching in anger. He looked like he might break something.

Originally, she hadn't realized how close he had been. Now, knowing she should have put more than an arms reach.

The sting on her cheek was not a sensation she was used to. Her father had never actually hit her. thrown stuff around, and broke things from occasionally, but never hit her.

Tears began pricking her eyes. How was she to respond now?

"Don't speak to me like that. It's ridiculous that he keeps you around."

Well, she already crossed the line. There's no going back now. "Maybe because I am actually kind to him." Standing her grand, she managed to look directly at him. The shock of her action clearly displayed on his figure. "Your son is one of the kindest and funniest people I have ever met. He is successful not because because of you but because of himself and what he has achieved through his own hard work."

She had been so lost in her speech that she had failed to hear the keys in the door.

"I'm glad you think so geliefde." His voice was soft towards her. Relief washed over her face as she turned to see him. "What are you doing here, dad?"

"I came to look over some things with you about your next race."

Max's eyes narrowed at him. He quickly places the bag with groceries in it on the floor and strides over where the young woman is still trying to figure out what to do next.

Max places his hands on either side of her face and examines it. "Well, now you don't get to ever come back."

"Max-"

"She is right. I am loved by her unconditionally, and I don't need you to constantly criticize me. And you especially do not get to lay hands on anyone I care about."

Max's eyes turned cold. Now staring past her while still holding her protectively. "Get out."

"Son I think we should at least talk about this!"

"Get out! Or I will call the authorities."

Jos raised his hands in defeat and wnt to exit the space. Before he closed the door, he left you both with a parting message. "I hope she is worth it, Max, and if you realize she's not, then don't come crawling back to me."

When the door clicked closed, she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said anything to him." She sobbed.

Max embraced her gently and leaned to whisper, "You did nothing wrong, I don't need him to be proud of me. Instead, I think your encouragement will be enough to fuel me for races."

Then, they both started to heal.

[gingerxarmy]

Confessions - Reader x Driver

Here we are with another Reader x Driver. Hope you like it! It took a different ending than what I thought about from the start, hah.

If there's anything you would like me to write I take requests, and I will write it when I have time :D

***

Your a bartender at your own bar, doing your job when one off your regulars keep you company.

Words: 1686 - fluff

Warning: mention of alcohol

You had been serving drinks for the last three hours, one of the regulars had been standing at the end of the bar with a girl, chatting. You knew his name quite well, him being famous thanks to his brave job and good looks made it hard to not watch him whenever he was in the room. He had a habit of flirting with whoever came into his path. But if you where rich, famous and a fucking racing driver, you guessed they could do whatever they wanted.

But tonight wasn't a good night. You had been serving another regular for the past hour and sometimes it did hurt, to watch someone with a good soul, to destroy it with the alcohol you only did your job to serve. Today he was extra talkative of the events that led him to your bar today. And it only hurt you more to serve him his drinks.

While your regular guest talked about his failing relationship you let your eyes drift off to the driver who had his arms folded over his chest. He looked lost in his thoughts while the girl talked, gesticule with her arms. You couldn’t help but think about what made him so lost in thoughts, normally he was the one who liked to talk, his charming accent always made its way with the girls. And you hated to admit that it worked for you as well.

You greeted a customer who made his way to the bar, taking his order and you started to make it. Mixing the ingredients and chatting with the new person. One thing that you loved about your job was the opportunity to meet new people everyday. And after a couple of drinks people had no filter anymore. It isn’t unusual for people to open up to you, talking about all different things. But never did anyone confess to murder, and you where damn lucky about it.

But this day, when he had chosen to pay your bar a visit you couldn't care less of the things Newbie talked about. Jalousie made its way to you when you once again let your eyes travel to the girl he had chosen for tonight to have his fun with. He was a player, you knew it, but all bad kinds of guys are a look for shore eye. And no one can say anything less, then they would be lying.

When you lay your eyes on him this time, it almost gave you a heart attack. His eyes were already on you. A smirk made its way to his lips when you met his eyes, making you blush and turned your attention back to Newbie, who now tried very poorly to flirt with you. You're flattered, you’re not the most popular person around your friends, not the best looking if you said it yourself. But here, around men who almost only made their way to your bar for the alcohol, you could be blushing by a good looking man who drunkenly gave poor flirtattents, but most of the time it’s just an egoboost.

You were in the middle of pouring a new Whiskey Sour when you heard an all too familiar voice asking for one as well. You nod your head, not looking at him, as you put the glass in front of your regular guest. Humming with to the song playing through the speakers as you blend Whiskey and lemon juice together.

“I thought you would be the talkative person tonight,” he says when you put his drik at the spot in front of him. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

“I’m impressed you noticed, considering you almost had your tongue down that lady’s troute all night.” You give him a smirk before wetting the cloth and start to wipe off the disk.

“Nah, never even considering it. She was only a pretty face you know,” he shrugs his shoulders before taking a sip from his drink. “This!” he says and points at the drink you just made. “This is fantastic.”

“Thanks, it’s my job. Would be almost impossible if it wasn’t. you know.” You say and give him a genuine smile.

“There you are!” He says and laughs. “The talkative woman that I like!”

“Oh come on, say why you are here and not with the girl you tried so hard to chat up before. Did she realise that you actually were too much of a regular here to have a chance of more than a one night stand?” You were interested to actually know why he ditched his date and started to talk to you instead. You were almost pleased about the thought of him liking your company better than hers. But you would never say it out loud.

“I wasn’t that keen on finding a new woman. You know, I actually have found someone I would like to get to know better.” Ouch, that was all your chances out of the window with him, you sighed.

“I’m happy for you.” You tried to sound glad about the news. “So, why are you here, drinking, if this lovely girl is out there somewhere?”

He mumbled something that sounded a lot like; Because I’m too much of a coward to ask her out by being sober. “Nah, just thought about making a visit to my favorite bartender when I actually was in town. Making sure she gets customers, you know,” he gives you one of his signature smiles. “And I was kinda bored at the hotel.”

There it was, you were just a distraction, a someone to waste his time on. He had been at your bar since you opened it two years ago and you clicked. He had been bringing a couple of friends sometimes, but most of the time he was alone, company with a girl he chatted up for taking with him to his hotel room. You would be lying if you say you hadn’t been wishing for being that girl sometime. It wasn’t professional to think so about a customer, but it was him. He was just naturally charming and it was almost like he was a bit nicer to you than with the girls he took home.

“Tell me about her.” You said, as if you already weren't heartbroken by the thought of him finding someone else.

“Yeah, sure. She-, eh, I don’t know where to begin.” He starts, fiddling with the now empty glass in front of him. “Please give me a Vodka Redbull if I’m gonna do this.” You let out a laugh while doing what he told you to give him.

“Is she that fantastic so you need a drink to spill the tea about her?” He was nervous and mister Newbie in the chair beside him was really interested in your conversation. You would have been nervous for a couple of strangers as well if you would tell someone about your crush.

“She is, yeah.” You lost your smile at his words. “She is perfect. Her smile makes you want to take a picture and frame it. It makes your heart melt if you are the one who makes her laugh. But not only that, she is beautiful. She really is, she could be a model if she wanted to, but I think she’s too shy, she hasn't got the best self-confidence I believe. And that makes me want to tell her everytime that she is so much more than what she thinks she is.” His gaze has become increasingly unfocused as he continues to speak. Lost in his thoughts about the girl who really makes him look in love. “And she is kind to strangers, she always tries to listen to what everyone says and I just can’t help but fall for her.” He downs the reminders of his drink before meeting your eyes. He looks vulnerable in a way you have never seen him before.

“She sounds like a really nice person. And I think you should do whatever you can to make her yours.” You say with a broken smile.

“You really believe so?” He asks, looking helplessly at you.

“I think she sounds lovely and if you don’t ask this person out I would love to have her name and number so I can do it.” Newbie says and starles the both of you, Newbie was long forgotten about when he was talking about the girl he liked.

“I guess, but I don’t know how. And she is way out of my league.”

“Oh come on now! Just ask her out. Do it know! Call her!” You say and watch as he takes out his phone, searching through his contacts before stopping. Looking at you and shaking his head.

“I don’t have her number,” he laughs, both you and Newbie just gave each other a look before shaking your heads. “But, you. I really like you. And I’m not playing, this shit is strong. Wow. I think the vodka is kicking in now. And I can’t keep my mouth shut. Please go out with me! Let me make you a drink for once!” He rambles as he reaches forward for your hand. You look at him in shock. Did he just ask you out?

“Did you just ask me out?” You say dumbfounded.

“Yes I did. I’ve been coming here for way too long without asking you out. And if you are rejecting me now I don't have the guts to put a foot in her again.” With pleading eyes he grabs your other hand as well.

“I- yes. Of Course. I would be a foul if I was rejecting you.”

“Thanks fuck. I really thought I would have been losing an almost friend and like the love of my life in the same night,” he laughs and stands up from his seat. Making his way over to you on unsteady legs. In seconds he has you in his arms. Putting a hand on your check and giving you a kiss. You soon break the kiss, looking into his eyes and realice;

“Wait, love of your life?”

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

(don’t) wake me up

Hold Me Close (and never let me go) Masterlist

Shirayuki never did wake easily.

That’s what her grandparents always told her, voices fond and smiles baffled as she bounced off walls and stumbled her way to her bowl of froot loops in the hours before nine. Earlier bedtimes did not mean earlier risers, the film of sleep lingering until she was loaded down with her books and binders and bundled onboard her school bus. Not even the allure of a perfect attendance sticker was enough to pry her to full consciousness until after the morning school announcements were done and everyone had taken their seats.

College had been a blessing, any classes scheduled before 10am something everyone mourned. Sleep dazed students piling into their lecture halls wearing a unicorn onesie after lunch didn’t even cause her professors to bat an eye. “Everyone is tired,” Yuuha scoffed, bent over his laptop while downing an espresso with a redbull chaser. 

This was fine, she thought. It was the ROTC crowd that were the odd ones; Mitsuhide showering off the sweat of morning PT and downing a plate full of protein before her first alarm of the day had even sounded.

It wasn’t until she was in medical school memorizing the symptoms of sleep disorders that she realized maybe her mornings were not… neurologically normal. But no graduate advisor was going to sign off for the time off needed for a sleep study and she had lived long enough like this, why not hold off a few years more?

Part of her wishes that she had done the tests back then; sacrificed a few perfect grades for the possibility of a well rested morning.

But considering her current predicament, perhaps she saved herself both time and money by not.

“Miss.”

A soft laugh and gentle pressure on her shoulder stops her cold. Blinking blearily, she stares at the whirls of gold paint dancing up a purple wall, the crinkled blue fabric covering the window beside it.

“Ah,” she breathes, rubbing at her crusty eyes. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do that.”

Another laugh, not unkind, filters through the haze. “Do what?”

Shirayuki turns where she stands - Oh, it’s a hallway. They’re in a hallway now. When did they do that? - and says, “Touch me without asking first.”

In the dim of the establishment's lighting, she can barely make out the color of his eyes, but she remembers. Gold. His eyes were… somehow gold.

No, that couldn’t be right.

“There are exceptions to every rule, Miss,” Obi says quietly, but his hands fall through the air, landing harmlessly at his side, and through the soft fuzz wrapping her brain, Shirayuki feels a paign of regret. 

“Are you going to be alright?” he asks, his voice just as soft as they had been when the both of them had been wrapped in fresh, clean smelling sheets. “Do I need to call you a Lyft?”

It’s like turning over a flooded engine. She’s cranking the gas, keys turning in the ignition, the starter screaming-- “Oh!” Shirayuki shakes her head, scrubbing at her face again. God, she can’t remember the last time a conversation was this hard. It’s almost as if- as if she just woke up. Or something. “Oh, no. I came with a friend. She’s taking me home.”

In the dim half lighting, his eyes spark with humor and- and she thinks his eyes really are gold. Somehow. Either that or sleep deprivation has caused her to start processing the color yellow inappropriately, in which case, she really should schedule an appointment with a neurolo--

“Good to know, Miss,” he says, gesturing towards the door to the reception area. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you. We went a little over time.”

Shirayuki could not say this with complete certainty, but she was pretty sure she’d never been late to anything in her life. “Huh? Why?”

Obi glances up at the ceiling, scratching at the non-existent stubble at his chin. “You were… rather insistent that you wanted to stay in bed.”

Mortification floods her face with heat and she can only hope that the lighting is dim enough to hide it. She must have- she must have actually slep--

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts. Her grandparents had recorded it one time to show her; grandpa snickering behind their new camcorder as grandma wrangled Shirayuki’s floppy limbs out of bed and to standing. She had flopped right back onto the mattress, spooling the covers around her before grandma could catch her. Twice. To her knowledge, she had never outgrown it. “I’ve never woken up easily.”

His shoulders shake. “It was flattering, Miss, truly. Never have I seen a more satisfied customer.”

Now she wants to ask. But she might melt right through the floorboards first out of sheer embarrassment first. “I can’t believe I just made you lay there for an hour while I slept.”

“Professional hazard,” he quips with a wink. “You wouldn’t be the first lady to fall asleep on me.”

“That somehow doesn’t feel like something you should be bragging about,” she claps back, only to slap her hands over her mouth. Inside thoughts, Shirayuki. Inside thoughts.

“Well.” His hand lands on the door handle, huffing out a sound halfway to a laugh. “It depends on who you are talking to.”

All things considered, she may firmly be in the satisfied customers camp, so it really wasn’t fair of her to tease. Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, if she actually did sleep-- “Can I take you home with me?”

Fingers blanch on the door handle and- oh yes, those eyes were definitely, definitely, gold. “Uhm.”

“I mean!” Shirayuki’s hands slap against her cheeks this time. That- that didn’t come out right at all. “Do you have a business card? Or something?”

Obi just stares at her, and it may be her imagination, what with the lighting and all, but his cheeks seemed a little… darker than before.

“It’s just-” Oh, if only she had been blessed with even an ounce of tact. “I slept so well.”

Rubbing awkwardly at his neck, Obi huffs, “It was just a nap, Miss.” But he reaches behind her, plucking a card off of a wall rack covered in adverts from massage therapists and yoga instructors and, goodness, Shirayuki may have visited half of these establishments. “But any time you feel like drooling on my arm again, feel free to give me a call.”

She wants to tell him that it was more than a nap. It was the first time in months that there hadn’t been dreams. “Thank you.”

“I, ah-” Obi coughs into his fist, staring at the door. “I do have overnight rates.”

It’s Shirayuki’s turn to be speechless.

He tilts his chin towards the bit of cardstock in her hand. “Info on the back.”

Her tongue twists in her mouth, staring up at him, but he pulls on the handle and--

“Oh there you are!”

In the reception area, Yuzuri bounds to her feet, ushering her out of Obi’s shadow and into her arms. She already has her phone out. “I was beginning to wonder if you left or something. C’mon, let’s go get lunch at that little crepe place before things start getting busy.”

Shirayuki casts a wide eye look behind her, only catching the profile of Obi’s face as the door is pulled shut behind him.

“Okay!” Yuzuri bubbles, holding her phone between them as she leads them outside. She is not prepared for the cold blast of early spring air, but she’s even less prepared for the woman smiling up at her from Yuzuri’s phone. Pixelated leafs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Geocities era flutter across a soft focus headshot, the tinkle of piano keys emerging from underneath the sounds of passing cars. “So this is the reiki lady Kazaha swears by. She’s booked out for months, but he said he was able to get us a slot-”

“Yuzuri-” Shirayuki tries softly.

“-and, yes, I know how you feel about energy work, but her yelp reviews are really good and-”

“Yuzuri, I slept.”

Carefully swept up curls, freshly tied back into a high ponytail stop swinging, and Shirayuki almost bumps into her. Someone does bump into Shirayuki, though, then swears as Shirayuki collapses into Yuzuri’s back.

“Sorry-” Shirayuki begins, glancing behind her, but all that gets her is a dirty look as an old man swings around her, grumbling something about not stopping in the middle of the sidewalk-

Yuzuri takes hold of her arm, shuffling them to a display window. “Did you say,” she begins slowly, staring at her with wide eyes. “That you slept?”

Shirayuki nods, still unable to believe it herself. “And no dreams.”

Yuzuri takes a breath. Then another one. “Do you think… you could seep… some more?”

Any time Shirayuki closes her eyes, they burn, but she does it again and this time, her body goes momentarily weightless with the promise of unconsciousness. “Yea.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuzuri breathes, taking Shirayuki’s arm in hers once more. “Okay, yea, let’s- let’s get you home, then.”

~ ~ ~

“If I had known that this is what you needed, I would have done it ages ago.”

Shirayuki stares at the far wall. It was so much easier back there on the street, still sleep warm and a little bleary, to say that she would sleep. To say that she could. “Mm.”

Yuzuri’s arm wraps tighter about her waist, cold nose brushing against her neck. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little outings,” she continues. “I’ve always wanted to try that stuff.”

While Shirayuki doesn’t precisely agree, she’s not going to pretend that it hasn’t been an, ah, experience. “Mm.”

“I wonder why the professional cuddler worked but not the massage therapist?” Yuzuri hums. “If it was physical contact you needed, I would’ve thought--”

Shirayuki sighs, loud enough that Yuzuri stops talking. “It’s not coming.”

Propping herself up on her elbow, Yuzuri pulls at her shoulder, rolling Shirayuki until she’s flat on her back. Brain as heavy as a sack of beans, she watches Yuzuri frown at her still open eyes, confirming that Shirayuki was, indeed, not asleep, and then sighs.

With a plop, Yuzuri collapses back onto the mattress next to her once more, arm wrapping about her middle. It’s nice. Warm. She misses warm.

“Well, we just laid down, maybe you need some more time,” Yuzuri mumbles into her hair, and maybe- maybe she’s right. This is the closest she’s felt to sleep in her own bed in a long time. At least without heavy medication. “And maybe I should stop talking.”

That’s an idea. But it never used to bother her. Grandma could be on the phone right next to her for hours while she napped on the couch, and grandpa’s poker buddies could caw until the wee morning hours outside her bedroom window and Shirayuki would never stir. Even Zen, with his countless 2am business calls with Hong Kong, didn’t bother her--

“What sort of music were you listening to?” Yuzuri asks, flopping onto her back and digging out her phone. “We had some pretty windchimes.”

“Whales.” Shirayuki murmurs, without thinking. “We were listening to whales.”

She hadn’t liked them - they had sounded like drowning puppies - but maybe there was something to the experience that had made her relax enough. She remembers reading about it in a journal once. The researcher had said something about frequencies and brain waves and music therapists having moderate success with the method, but it’s buried under the mounds of more… established papers that she had given more time to.

Yuzuri props her phone up on the nightstand, soft cetacean whines filling the room. Settling back down next to her, Shirayuki’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation of fingers gently winding through her hair. It’s nice. Comforting, even. But not-

“It is working?” Yuzuri whispers.

“Mm.” Shirayuki doesn’t dare move. Not when she’s so close to the edge like this. “A little bit.”

“Maybe the smell is wrong,” she muses, thumb brushing against Shirayuki’s temple in soothing strokes. “Sorry, my hair product can be a little strong.”

Honestly, Shirayuki hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some tea tree oil tomorrow,” she says absently. “I think that’s what they had in their diffusers. I’ve seen the good stuff for sale at the organic grocer down the street from me.”

One by one, her muscles unwind, the pressure on her brain easing. She can’t find the energy to respond, her thoughts winking out one by one--

Buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shirayuki’s eyes spring open.

“First mistake,” Yuzuri groans. “Leaving your phone in the bedroom.”

Shirayuki just might cry. With a whine, she shifts onto her side, moving to grab for her purse dumped at the side of her bed-

A firm hand stops her midroll, Yuzuri staring down at her with her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Second mistake,” she frowns. “Checking it.”

She’s very likely right, but- “It might be the hospital,” she counters.

“Then it’s low priority,” Yuzuri claps back. “You have a pager for a reason.”

“I don’t like making people wait.” Shirayuki squirms out of Yuzuri’s hold, fishing her phone out of her purse. “If it’s small, then it’ll just be a minute.”

“When you’re done, I’m taking that from you and putting it in the kitchen,” Yuzuri grumps. “And putting it on silent.”

“Deal.” Shirayuki smiles, swiping her thumb over the blank screen. Blue swirls fill the screen, a single message notification block blaring across the center that says,

IZANA WISTERIA

“Whelp.” Yuzuri’s chin digs into Shirayuki’s shoulder. “You’re never going back to sleep now.”

With a wince and a familiar churn of the gut, Shirayuki carefully rearranges her face before even attempting to cast her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “You might as well go home. I know Suzu must be missing you.”

“That telephone pole was probably looking forward to a night without me starfishing all over the bed,” Yuzuri grumps, pushing herself up. “But you’re right. I don’t want to be dragged into whatever overtime horror project Wisteria is pulling you in on.”

Shirayuki frowns, watching Yuzuri sweeping up the mess of her hair. “It’s not like that.”

That earns her the rise of an eyebrow. “Then what, pray tell, is it like?” Yuzuri challenges back, pinning her bun into place.

Shirayuki doesn’t know how to answer that question. Doesn’t know how to explain that things are complicated, and not in a Bumble sort of way. That the incident created a strange world where only her and Izana lived, and well… 

Well she doesn’t think that Izana would appreciate her talking to anyone about it, even if that someone was her best friend. To be frank, she doesn’t even know how to begin describing the odd dynamic between the two of them.

She struggles for a response for too long and Yuzuri sighs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and stuffing it in her coat pocket. “Call me if you need anything,” she says, like she always does. “I’ll be over with tea tree-everything in the morning.”

From the comfort of her blankets, Shirayuki smiles. “Thanks, Yuzuri.”

“Mm.” With a lazy wave over her shoulder, she calls. “Don’t stay up too late!”

From down the hall, Shirayuki hears the front door latch shut, her apartment once again falling into stillness. Unnatural silence. And even under her down feather duvet, Shirayuki feels a chill. Maybe she should have asked Yuzuri to turn up the thermostat before she left. Or maybe she should just take the plunge and get herself a cat. They’re warm.

Taking a deep breath, the smell of her single, empty apartment filling her lungs, Shirayuki looks back at her phone. And, with a resigned sigh, clicks Read.

[spookysmujer]

Cherry pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: Y/N is in her feelings and Oscar’s guilt doesn’t allow him to let her in. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, cliche love shet 🤩

word count: 3.6k

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been so patient! The writers block was soooo major. The love that Cherry got sent me so naturally I had to do a part 2 and I hope y’all like it. I’m lowkey feeling a part 3...🤪 I have a few drafts of Spooky/Sad Eyes fics that I am slowly but surely working on. Hopefully I’ll have a few up sometime this week/weekend. ❤️ Please: Heart! Reblog! Follow! Turn on those notifications! Love ya!

(gif belongs to @merakiaes 🦋)

-

“Boo, you whore.”

Another piece of popcorn hits the tv screen joining the pile that has accumulated on the floor below since the beginning of the movie you started almost 2 hours ago. The guy confessing his love below the girls window, the sappy confession, the cliche smile and laugh. Yuck, it makes you pretend gag as you fly a handful of popcorn this time.

If someone told you that you would be all bent up about turning down a guy, you’d tell them that they’re tripping but here you are. The typical ‘in your feelings’ watching sappy shit and in the same clothes as yesterday morning. Yes, yesterday morning. How the hell did you get here?

For the 3rd time in that hour you pick up your phone to check for any notifications. Almost unlocking it to open the contacts app and.. No! You mentally condemn yourself for thinking of calling him. It would be pointless considering he hasn’t made any form of contact since that night at the beach. Since Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz told you, his weekend booty call, he might think he feels something more between the two of you. It’s not the first time a guy has confessed that he has a crush on you, it’s just never been done like this. It’s usually, hey I like you, then comes the banging and then ghosted. Now it’s completely opposite.

You can’t help but be confused and laugh about the whole thing because since Oscar became the leader of of the Santos he had been a cold looking, tough talking, macho man that no one would dare question. Even with you when the whole FWB started then he got comfortable. You definitely weren’t prepared for it.

With all this ghosting and being a sad little girl, it has given you time to think about it all. About pursuing a relationship with Spooky. But with how things went down, you question it even more than you did before. His immediate reaction to rejection is anger and pettiness. Instead of looking at the situation and thinking on how to handle it. If this is how he handles his relationships you can only imagine how he handles his gang business but the teardrop tattoo tells you enough.

Without even thinking of the two you of being the two of you, being with him... it was something. When you’d have sex and just lay next to him, it did feel like something. But you never acknowledged it as anything because it was just sex and was explicitly labeled by him as just so.

“This is just sad.” Your sister says as she stands in the door way, to which you completely ignore.

You point the remote to the tv and turn up the volume, “Your life is sad.”

“Yeah, but not as sad as yours.”

She strides over and grabs the remote from besides you to turn off the movie. You roll your eyes and grab your phone as another means of distraction, which she grabs from you too.

“What?!”

She gives you a look of ‘oh really?’ and crosses her arms. If there is one thing to get you to lose your marbles it’s when people stare at you. Waiting for you to crack and you always do.

“What do you want me to do? He clearly got his feelings hurt and doesn’t want anything to do with me. And for what it’s worth, I’m not even entirely sure I can see anything happening between us.” You admit, finally looking at the younger verison of yourself.

She sighs and ushers you to move over to let her lay beside you, “Y/N, you really don’t get it, huh? Oscar likes you! It scared you when he admitted it because like I always say, he’s a dangerous guy. But sweetheart, you may not see it entirely but you still see it. You are curious. You want to know what’s there besides sex no matter how much you say that you can’t see it. Hello! We can all see that y’all weren’t just sleeping with each other. Something is there and you need to just take that leap of faith. You keep telling yourself that it’s pointless to try and talk with him. Then I see you like this and it’s obvious you’re in your feelings. So do something about it.”

She smacks your leg and gets up to leave. You can only huff and puff at her opinion. What more could you do though? You’ve given him space both after the night at the beach and when you left him the voicemail. Perhaps his pride is too big and he didn’t want to make the first move. But so is yours. If you didn’t make the move, your sister would drag you there. So fuck it, you sigh and roll out of bed to make yourself presentable to go talk to Oscar.

After sitting in your driveway for 10 minutes trying to talk yourself out of it, you twist the key into the ignition and take a deep, semi-confident breath, “Okay, just go over there and talk to him. Ask him what’s up, why he been ghosting you. Just be cool. Com’n Y/N, shake your damn nerves. You’re that bitch, been that bitch and will foreva be the bitch!”

You pep talk yourself while driving to Oscars and it makes you feel a little better and it distracts you long enough that you’re now driving on the familiar street. You park behind a few cars on the curb that’s a house down from his.

As you approach it, music can be heard as well as guys talking. It’s mid afternoon which meant the Santos were probably scattered on the front lawn. Sure enough as you step in front of the house there is a few on the porch, a few on the run down couches and others standing around. Oscar leant besides the stairs and his eyes find yours for a brief second.

You look at the Cholos as you walk up the pathway leading to the stairs of the house. A few hushed conversations and tsks from the rucas.

“Hey,” You make your way in front of Oscar who just takes a swig of his redbull, eyes avert and looking down at his feet.

“Sup.”

You look at Joker who sports an amused face, staring at you like you were raspado on a hot day, you inhale deeply and look back to Oscar, shifting your weight and crossing your arms.

“I tried calling, even left you a message. Did you get it?” Oscar still didn’t look at you, only at the can in his hand, sniffing and shrugging his shoulders.

It isn’t that Oscar is upset that you turned him down or even that you trash talked him, but that he feels like shit when he listened to your voicemail. As he had just spent that Friday night doing fine ass Leti in a hotel room on Fremont street, in Sin City. Because yes, it was fucked up on what you said. But Oscar did feel like he wanted more with you, not from you. It scared him to admit it, he wasn’t one to have time for serious relationship shit but hell he wanted it. So when you went off, he did too.

“Been busy, I’m a busy man.” He finally looks to you, taking a long gulp then crushing the empty can in hand and tossing it aside. Your eyes follow it and you scoff.

The Santos laugh as a side smirk forms on his face, “Real busy, homes!”

It’s obvious he is playing the part of being the leader, looking tough and shit. His machismo running hard.

“Since when you that kinda hyna, Y/N? Y’all just fucking why you so pressed on why he ain’t on your ass?” Joker calls out, getting a chuckle from Oscar and everyone else.

You deadpan look at him and then look to Oscar, waiting for him to talk to you. To ask the guys to bounce or even signal you to take a walk but he just stares at you like you were some annoying Girl Scout at the front door.

“You lucky you fine because you real dumb.” Another Santo you recognize as Oso says and you feel real ganged up on now. You lick your lips and purse them into a thin line, looking at him to ask what the hell he means by that. “Nena, he was busy banging fine ass Leti that’s why he ain’t call you back. Looks like he wanted something spicer.”

Your brows furrow at Oso’s words. Busy banging fine ass Leti. Everyone begins to laugh and look at you like you’re the high school laughing stock. Oscar’s facial expression says yup, that’s right. But you weren’t about to succumb to Oso’s words and react the way they probably hope you will.

“Sin City, huh? Nice.”

That’s all you say as you start to walk away from the house. You honestly could have said more, more trash talk about Oscar fucking Leti or worse. You could have gone off about how Spooky got his little heart broken but you weren’t about to make a fool of him in front of the Santos, you weren’t a prick like that. Let him have his power trip, you thought.

You could feel the tears forming as you make your way back to the car. The hot liquid threatening to spill over but quickly blinking them away. After getting in the car, you grip the steering wheel and take a deep, sharp breath before starting it and driving off.

Oscar continues to laugh with his homies about what just happened but he briefly lets his face fall as he replays the look you gave him and how cold your voice became. But this is how he hoped it’d go. He secretly hoped you’d be offended and leave because the guilt he felt when listening to your voicemail told him that he didn’t deserve a woman like you. So pushing you away works better.

“Hynas be fuckin’ trippin’.” He says pulling the cigarette pack from his pocket.

-

The look you give your sister when you get back to your loft is all she needed to understand how things went. She gave you an apologetic look as you shrugged your shoulders. Nothing a bathe couldn’t fix.

In all your years of dating, this has to be the most fucked up thing. It’s one thing for a guy to sleep with you and then ghost you, but to admit feelings then fuck other chick and ghost you? That hits different.

The speaker plays music as the candles burn sweet aromas while you sit in a hot, bubbly bath. You have your head tipped back and eyes closed. It’s when you get comfortable that your mind starts replaying the moments that connected to Oscar’s confession that night.

The smiles Oscar had when you’d walk through his front door, the lingering stares when you’d talk, the skin to skin even after the sex was long over. The guy has liked you from the start.

Then you start to think your reactions. The burning feeling in your cheeks, the comfort in the touches, the tink your heart had when his name popped up on your phone.

“Fuck.”

How did you not see how you were falling for him as he was for you? How could you deny it was just sex when you thought of him before, during and after the hook ups? Did that “Spooky” image of him really cloud your judgement that much? Sweetheart, the guy admitted he bounced to go fuck Leti in Las Vegas!

But you know the only reason he did so is because of his go-to reaction to things. Oscar always gets his way with things and people.

You sigh as you finally push the denial and fear aside to see things more clearly. The water splashes around as you sit up from the tub, turning on the shower to rinse off. You get out, clean up and dry off while thinking what your next is move is going to be. From the looks of it you were right about Oscar’s pride. Either he isn’t making the first move or actually has decided that he is over you. Yet, here you are. On a mission to get him to talk to you.

There isn’t any hesitation this time. You don’t wait in your driveway before driving off nor do you pep talk yourself on your way there. It’s one of those moments that your ambition is so strong that you are diving head first.

And thank the heavens there are no Santos crowding the house. The red impala in the driveway and the dimly lit kitchen shows that he is home. Unless he had fine ass Leti pick him up. You shake the thought as you pull up the curb directly in front of the Diaz residence.

You step out and walk onto the sidewalk when your feet plants itself there. It’s then that you begin to think. What will you say to him? Why haven’t you been talking to me? What’s with you dipping to Vegas? Or ‘hey, in my 20 minute bathe I had before coming here I suddenly understood what you meant about thinking of other shit besides sex. And I also realize I let everyone’s image of you cloud my judgement before giving you a chance!’

You turn back and open the passenger side door, turning the ignition so that the car system is on. The glow of your phone hitting your face as you reach for the aux cord and connecting it.

“This is so stupid, this so fucking dumb. All or nothing, Y/N.”

As the music starts, you turn it up and stand up back on the sidewalk.

The instrumental starts playing to “The Story” by Sara Ramirez that was featured on one of your favorite shows, Grey’s Anatomy. The moon casting a glow onto the yard, the chilly air surrounding. It’s like out of the damn movies you swear are so cliche. The same ones you would gag at and promise yourself you wouldn’t let a guy ever do. And look at you now.

All of these lines across my face

Tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I been

And how I got to where I am

But these stories don’t mean anything

When you’ve got no one to tell them to

It’s true, I was made for you

“I know you’re home. I can see the lights on and your car is here... and I’ll stand out here until you come out and talk to me. All night if I have to. I know you wanna talk.”

You call out loud, leaning against your car and reaching through the open window to up turn the volume.

Oscar mutes the tv to make sure he’s hearing right. As you spoke, he stands from the couch and in place when he confirms it’s your voice he’s hearing. That’s when the soft music under your voice gets louder.

I climbed across the mountains tops

Swam all across the ocean blue

I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules

But baby I broke them all for you

The music blares from outside. He rolls his eyes and stands by the front door for a moment as he listens. Fighting the urge to walk out, shut off the music and tell you to bounce. He is also fighting a grin that his face is forcing, hearing that sappy music. But the first urge wins.

You see the front door open and a visibly irritated Oscar descend down the small staircase. He strides over quickly, pulling you off from against the door and reaching in to hit the knob, turning off the stereo system.

Oscar stands and faces you. He doesn’t say anything looking at you with annoyance.

“I knew you were home.” You joke, a little smile peeking. He wipes his chin and huffs.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

He only shakes his head, “I said all I needed to when you were here earlier.”

The sounds you make makes him quirk an eyebrow and you untangle your arms that were across your chest, “You’re acting like your compas are around. Afraid someone is listening? Don’t want anyone to hear you talk about your feelings? Come, let’s go inside.”

You walk towards his house and welcome yourself in without him so much as a step behind you. He stands there as you did so, shaking his head and releasing a held in breath. Things are definitely not going how he imagined.

When he steps over the threhold, you’re sat on the couch and staring of towards the kitchen. The many times you were here and it for the first time feels like you’re out of place. Oscar clears his throat and sits on the chair across from you.

“Let’s talk.”

You lick your lips and look down at your hands then to him, “You’re mad I turned you down. That’s why you’re acting like this. And that’s fine. You acted out with the whole Vegas shit and that’s fine. I get it.”

“You get it?” Oscar leans forward to rest his arms on his knees, “I went to fuck another hyna barely a day after we talked and that’s fine to you?”

You swallow and shrug your shoulders, “Yeah. I’m not your ruca, like Joker said we’ve just been fucking, we didn’t make a rule that we can’t see others.”

Oscar laughs at himself, reading you before looking away and standing. He walks to the dining area grabbing the ashtray, lighting a joint before settling back in his seat.

“It didn’t tick you off one bit that I spent the weekend in Las Vegas with someone, not just someone but fine ass Leti? Ha, bullshit it’s fine.” He scoffs.

“I-it didnt. It doesn’t.”

Oscar’s face contorts to anger, brows furrowing and lips pressed together tightly before shouting out, “It should! It should bother you. Why would you come running back to the guy who treats you like that? That’s fucked up. You shouldn’t let no one treat you like that. Not me, not anyone.”

You inhale sharply, “Well I’m here! I’m here because you got me thinking now. You got me in my damn feelings. Because any other guy to pull what you did, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t come running back, like you say. I didn’t plan to. After your little machismo stunt with the guys I thought, fuck um. Fuck all that. Then... all those stupid times when I could feel you smiling at me, when you claimed we were just fucking? How when I craved, when we craved each other when we weren’t fucking?”

You’re out of breath. Your chest heaving, as the tears has formed, your anger always summoned tears, it’s a weakness of yours.

“I started thinking and seeing all the things that you claimed you wanted with me. And then I finally broke the vision of you that everyone sees and I saw you, Oscar not Spooky. And then my little stupid heart told me to come tell you all this.”

Oscar has only felt like this with his little brother, Cesar. The feeling of pushing and fighting for something. And when he built the courage to tell you he wanted more, he felt it then too. But then everything else that happened afterwards broke that feeling. Until now, he feels it again. It feels like a warm feeling, in the pit of his stomach that spreading throughout his chest now. And you feel it too.

You two only stare at one another. The only thing between you is the coffee table. He leans back in his chair, when his cheeks lift in a small smile. Oscar keeps his eyes off you for a bit. He really thought you’d get more upset and storm off after he dragged the whole sleeping with someone else thing. But here you are, pushing and fighting.

“So what now? Hm, tell me what you want to happen now.”

Just as he did, you look away and feel your cheeks burn. The warm feeling assaulting your chest.

“I want to figure this out. I want to know why my gut is telling me to find out what’s here. And you’re right, I don’t deserve to be treated this way but... I want to be treated someone kind of way with you.”

Oscar nods, blinking slowly and peering at you as you stand. You walk over and swing your leg across his lap to sit. His hands automatically reaching your waist, sliding up your back and down.

“Tell me you want that too.”

Oscar nods as your faces are mere inches apart. The space growing smaller and the warm feeling intensifying.

When your lips connect and it’s that moment you hear in those stories, the ones when the guys come home from the war to their gals, it’s bliss. The kiss isn’t needy, it isn’t I want you so bad but I want you. You two aren’t fighting for dominance. You aren’t trying to rip each other’s clothes off like you usually would in this situation.

After a few moments of kissing, you pull back and rest your forehead against his. Shallows breaths while keeping your eyes closed.

“So where do we start?” You ask him. He chuckles as you lean back, hands interlocked at the back of his neck.

“Dinner tomorrow. I’m gonna cook for you, get to know each other. Let’s start there.”

Tags:

@clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @firebenderwolf @spookysnena @princesstiffxoxo

[eagesoldartblog]

7 O ÒWÓ

Camp Counslors got caught

Flicking off the lights as he goes down the hall, Arthur lets out a hefty sigh and steps into the kitchen. Turning the light switch on and revealing a woman with a messy blue bun staring back at him. She sits there quietly before continuing to pour coffee grounds into the coffee machine. Arthur gives her a quick nod and pulls out a chair.

Arthur starts, “Rough night?”

“Yeah,” Vivi shuts the lid and hits start before turning to him with a shrug, “Amber was having a rough time falling asleep.. her ankle was acting up and I guess her anxiety was getting the best of her because she couldn’t play with the others…” Relived that she got out her much needed vent, she tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, “want some coffee?”

“Nah, I got my own drink..” He snags his redBull out of his pocket- to which Vivi snorts at- before sipping, “besides, Lewis got on my case for drinking some so late.”

“Well he’s not here now, is he?”

Arthur smirks and leans forward on his elbows, “You don’t know that. For someone as tall as him, he’s a sneaky fuck, that’s for sure.”

“Shh~ don’t want Trevon to hear you.” Vivi ambles to the covers and pulls out her signature mug, shaking it dry. They had just cleaned it after all.

“He won’t, I called his mom and she let me give him some sleep aid.” He chuckles fondly, setting his can to the side and laying his head down, “He’s out like a light…”

“Well that’s a relief… is he going to be drinking that for the rest of the camp?”

“Probably. Although, some of the other kids had seen that I gave him some and wanted some of themselves. So I’ll have to call some parents tomorrow, and see if they will be all right with their kids drinking sleep aid in order to go to bed. Nightmares and all that.”

She laughs quietly, “Yeesh, and I thought I had it bad.“

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s not like the girls are constantly crawling over you too.”

“True.” The coffee maker beeps, and Vivi snags her mug and begins to pour. “One last chance if you want some~”

Arthur holds up his can of redBull, swishing the contents before downing it. They share a nod before Vivi scalds her mouth, cringing slightly before taking another sip. The two sit in contentment, enjoying the silence.

And unaware of the padded footsteps. A familiar voice interrupting their drink time. “What did I tell you two?”

Both jump, Vivi chokes on her drink and sets her drink down, and Arthur coughs and pounds his chest to avoid spitting.

“I told you he was sneaky!” Arthur says, pointing an accusatory finger at Lewis, who ducks under the doorframe and seats his hand away.

“And I told you two to cut back on the caffeine…” Lewis crosses his arms sternly and gives them both a disapproving glare, with his expression softening after a moment, “When’s the last time you two slept?”

Sharing a glance, they stay silent. In maybe an act of defiance, Vivi slowly takes another sip of her coffee and averts her gaze, even as Lewis pointedly stares at her.

”Guys.”

Arthur waves his hand, avoiding his look, “can you blame us-? We’re… we’re insomniacs! And taking care of needy kids.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

With her mouth still hidden by her mug, Vivi piques up, “Two days. I’m starting to see sound.”

Lewis sighs and harshly massages his forehead, “Vivi!”

“What! Like Arthur said- the kids are working us to the bone! When can you sleep when you have to make sure they don’t puke?”

Lewis has both hands on his hips, “You let me handle it.”

“But you already have so much on your plate…” Arthur points out, almost mournfully. Everyone knew just how much Lewis was working in the kitchen to cook and to clean while they entertained the kids and gave them lessons.

Lewis, was far from pleased with that answer.

“Arthur, I can smack you upside the head for that. Don’t make me beat you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared~” Arthur shoots back. Lewis opened his mouth, face contorted with agitation, before the blue light of the coffeemaker caught his attention.

“... Vivi, dump out that pot before I do.”

“What-?”

“You heard me,” Lewis says, moving away from the door frame and grasping the pot and quickly dumping it out in the sink before Vivi could object, “I’m going to call Chloe and Cappella to fill in, but you two are going to take the next few days off. Whether you want to or not.” Arthur and Vivi both sputter in defiance as they struggle to come up with a response. Lewis turns to them both and fishes a pill bottle of out his pocket, “and before either of you start to complain, I have enough melatonin to put a horse to sleep. Don’t think I won’t make you two take it.”

“Wow,” Vivi huffs, crossing her arms in a particularly sassy manner, “who knew we decided to date a narc, huh Artie.”

Arthur snorts into his hand, trying to resist laughing too loud and earning more of Lewis’s wrath.

“Don't you remember?” Lewis says, fetching some milk out of the fridge and placing a metal pot beside the hotplate, “we aren’t together while we’re on clock. That’s another two weeks.”

Arthur leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Then why are you acting like such a protective boyfriend?”

“Because duty calls when your two idiots are being stupid,” Lewis says, then pointing at his can with more hatred than he probably had in him, “now dump out that poison and take one of these.”

Vivis marches up to Lewis, standing on her toes and ‘snarling’ the best she could, “and what if the kids get up, hm?”

She flinched as Lewis flicked her nose in return, “Did you forget? I have three sisters and I work in an orphanage when I’m not at bussing tables or dealing with you two.” He places the pot on the warming hot plate, and pours some milk in, “Now grab something for you and Arthur to eat. I mean it when I say you two are going to bed.”

The smirk on Arthur's face starts to waver the smallest bit, and he glances at the clock, “We… we will have to get up in a few hours anyway…?”

Lewis shakes his head, no longer looking at them, “Nope, like I just said, I’m going to call in some substituted counselors to take over the next few days while you two recover. Now, I’m sure you two can make my life a little easier and agree to sit out on tomorrow’s activities?”

There’s a moment of silence. Arthur and Vivi share a second glance, and under the light their bags seem all the more darker.

Vivi groans, speaking for both of their exhaustion, “Fine. We’ll sleep in.”

“Thank you.”

Vivi dramatically sinks down in a chair next to Arthur, before slumping and leaning against his shoulder, a small smile cracking across her face. “Think we’ll have an excuse to share a bunk?”

Arthur can’t help but crack a smile himself, “Probably not, Lewis wants us to sleep,remember?”

”Oh we’ll sleep alright~ after some cuddles.”

“Guys.”

Then, a small, new voice suddenly stammers, “Uh.. Vivi?”

The three counselors whip their heads around, Vivi and Arthur scraping back their chairs in alarm and standing up.

“Kacey!” Vivi breaths, pushing herself away from the table and rushing to kneel down in front of the seven year old, “hey, sweetie. What’s wrong? Did you have another nightmare?” It was as good of a guess as any, as Vivi stroked some of the bed-head away and noting the tears in Kacey’s eyes.

“Y-yea… and I-I lost Moris..”

“Oh no!” Vivi says, partially actually worried and more showing that she cared. She thinks for a moment, before smiling, “How about this, give me one moment and I’ll help you find Moris, okay?” Then, she glances over and meets Lewis’s gaze, raising her voice a tad more seriousness, “Mind if I at least help her, or do you wanna do it?”

Lewis shifts his weight, rolling his eyes the smallest bit before his exasperation turns to kindness.

His voice now gentle, he nods, “Of course, and make sure to tuck Kacey in nice and tight! No nightmares will get you then. But make sure you come right back, okay?”

A playful smirk then creeps along Vivi's face, “Lewis, I think you’re forgetting something~”

“Which is…?”

“Maybe you should make Kacey a drink too! She’ll need it in order to feel nice and safe~”

Vivi could see him curse her in the way he grins directly at her, but he nods.

“Of course. Kacey, wanna sit next to Arthur and tell him what your nightmare was about?”

[let-me-love-you-loki]

The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 11

A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I had massive shoulder surgery a couple weeks ago but everything is doing much better now. To my amazing co-writer, tumblr-wifey and bestie-lifepartner, Love ya babes. Thank you all for your patience. --Bethany 

Chapter 11: Adam

           The ringing of the phone startled me awake. I grunted and looked toward Allie, still asleep. I quietly slid of the bed, threw on a pair of shorts, and raced to the kitchenette.

           “Hello?” I asked, trying to avoid waking the woman currently snuggled into my pillow.

           “Good afternoon Mr. Page,” said the voice on the other end. It took a moment to place—Marco the amazing, miracle working concierge. “ I do hope I'm not interrupting anything. I was looking through the dinner reservations and noticed you and Mr. Omega didn't have any plans for tonight. It seems Ms. Mason and Ms. Keene don’t have them either.”

           Damn it, Kenny, I groaned silently. “Um, yeah, Ken was supposed to set something up.” For a split second, I wondered what my buddy and Leigh were up to. Then I realized I didn’t want to know. “I guess they went to the beach. Do we have many options?”

           “If I might make a suggestion?”

           I leaned against the counter and watched Allie turn over in bed. “You haven’t failed us yet, Marco.”

           “Thank you, sir.” He sounded genuinely pleased by the confidence. “There is a sandbar out in the bay. We could set up a table or two if you would like. Torches and string lights all around at sunset. Personal chef to cook tableside and make drinks, and a small boat to get you there and back.”

           I thought fast as he talked. Jesus, I swore, this place really is all-inclusive.

           “Sources also indicate that there is a meteor shower tonight. With such a clear sky, it might set the appropriate mood,” Marco offered.

           This guy is a damn genius. “Marco, you are the man! That sounds amazing. Sign us up. When and where?”

           “A boat will be by to pick you up from the swim dock of the ladies’ bungalow at seven thirty,” Marco said, seemingly pretty proud of himself. “As for the menu, may I recommend steak and lobster tail? It’s a personal favorite. We can pair that with a wine and have Bananas Foster cheesecake for dessert?”

           My stomach growled at the thought. “Yes to all except the wine. Kenny doesn't drink, so Diet Coke for him. Give me the same, but with some Jack Daniels. The ladies have been drinking Cranberry Malibus with Redbull. They seem to like those.'' I could hear Marco typing in the background. This man was definitely a godsend. “Might as well throw some water in there too.”

           “Absolutely, Mr. Page. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?” Marco queried.

           “Nah, Marco you're the man. You have no idea how much we appreciate you,” I replied, genuinely thankful. “Have a great evening.”

           “No problem, Mr. Page. For attire this evening, might I suggest linen shorts with a button up shirt? Have a wonderful dinner tonight, sir.”

           As we disconnected, I heard a soft snore coming from the bed. Allie lay curled on her stomach with one hand reaching toward my side of the bed. My eyes roamed. Her blonde hair covered the pillow and the sheet just barely covered her ass.

           There is just something about that girl that I can't put my finger on. For some reason, she reminded me of wild horses and thunderstorms.

           Quietly, I climbed back into bed and slowly wrapped Allie in my arms. “Hey, Mango,” I whispered softly into her hair. “I could spend all day in bed with you, but it’s four thirty. And we’ve got dinner reservations at seven-thirty. Boat’s picking us up from your swim dock.”

           She hummed and snuggled closer. Her hand reached for mine, tucking it more tightly around her. My thumb stroked the bottom of her breast innocently.

           “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like,” I murmured. My lips skimmed the line of her shoulder.

           “Well, Cowboy,” Allie replied in that sweet little sleepy voice of hers, “what if I wanna just stay in bed all day with you?”

           “Trust me, you don't want to miss this, darlin’.” I replied. My nose slid along the back of her neck and I breathed in the scent of her skin.

           “Okay then,” she mumbled, stirring slightly. “I better get up and get dressed, huh?”

           Before I could respond, the door of the bungalow slammed open. “Yo, Hanger!” Kenny yelled as he walked through our shared space.

           Allie jumped out of bed like she had been struck by lightning. It was a beautiful thing to watch as she snatched up her clothes and high tailed it straight to the bathroom. I could hear her cussing as she quickly got dressed and walked out a moment later, looking innocently guilty.

           Kenny appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Leigh was right behind him, standing at his shoulder with a sun kissed glow around her. Allie’s face turned beet red as her eyes met Leigh’s. The other woman gave Allie a questioning glance, brow raised. It was a mixture of making sure she was ok and… approval. Maybe even a little proud. The smile that crossed Allie’s face could light up the world.

           “Oh shit, I'm sorry guys,” Kenny said apologetically. “Didn't mean to interrupt anything.”

           “Nah, you're good, Kenny. We were just talking.” God, I hope he doesn't look at the bed. I tried not to look at the bed. Memories of the afternoon spun in my mind. Jesus Christ.

           Allie walked up to me, a gleam in her hazel eyes. “We’re gonna go get ready for dinner. See you on the dock at seven thirty?”

           “Absolutely, baby girl. And I promise… no gym shorts.” I gave her the most dashing smile I could manage. Damn she is way too beautiful.

           Allie smiled and walked toward Leigh, who could not stop grinning back. They looked at one another as if they were having a silent conversation. I swore that the two of them had a true mental connection. They practically shared a brain in the best way. I winked at them before Kenny walked the girls out. Once they were out of sight, I grabbed my shower bag and walked to the bathroom.

           “Adam? You good buddy?” Kenny asked. “You seem a little… I don't know… flustered?”

           “Yeah man, I’m good. I think.” I let out a heavy sigh and looked at my friend. My back hit the door frame. “Man, there is just something about Allie. I can't describe it.”

           “Yeah. I get that. Leigh is amazing, too. She is smart and funny. And, dude, her smile? I can't think straight.” Kenny’s voice was wistful, and he had this fuzzy look in his eyes. A minute later, he gasped. “Fuck! I forgot dinner.”

           I laughed out loud. “Yeah, asshole, you did. Marco called about it. Woke me up. Seemed to think we’d given up on the girls.” I shook my head, tsking. I was laying the guilt trip on thick. “But don't worry. That man is a damn genius. We’re having dinner on a sandbar in the bay with a personal chef and bartender. And a meteor shower tonight too.”

           Kenny relaxed. That fuzzy look came back.

           I grinned. “We’re meeting the boat at seven thirty at the girls’ swim dock.”

           “Remind me to tip him very well. That's amazing.” Kenny stood there, gob smacked for a moment. I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was up to something.

           “Okay, Ken, I'm getting a shower. Marco said to look nice for dinner.” With that, I left Kenny still dumbfounded in the living area.

           Walking to the bathroom, the thoughts of the afternoon swirling through my head. I stood in the shower with my thoughts fixed on the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I could see her just like she was standing in front of me. I closed my eyes and pulled back the memories of the afternoon. The way her long blonde hair framed her face while she slept. The way she looked with her eyes closed tight in the throes of passion. The way her body reacted to my touch. The sounds she made when she came.

           My cock began to stiffen with the thoughts of Allie running through my head. I tried to ignore the impulse. But, as I washed my hair, I imagined her fingers running through it, gently pulling it. Fuck. I wasn’t sure I could get any harder. What was this woman doing to me?

           I tried to pull my thoughts away from the beautiful blonde who had lassoed me. But I couldn’t. I gave in to the thoughts of her. My blood boiled with want and need. I wrapped my fingers around my cock. It throbbed in my hand as I stroked it slowly, thinking about Allie’s body and her smile. I bit my lip as the need grew. I could feel the release coming, slowly building.

           Thoughts of her flashed through my head. The way she smiled when she thought no one was watching. The way her face glowed in the sunlight and the adorable way her freckles decorated her shoulders. My grip tightened, moved faster. The last stroke took my breath away. Despite myself, a loud growl escaped my chest.

           My heart pounded in my chest. God, I want her again. Now!

           Still winded, I got out of the shower and dried off. Thoughts of Allie hovered in the corner of my thoughts. Putting on gym shorts, I tried to distract myself. I went to find Kenny.

           “Hey, Cleaner? Where ya at?" I yelled through the villa.

           “Out here, Hangman,” he yelled from the deck. I stepped outside to see him standing on one foot, both hands pressed together above his head. “Yoga. So, buddy, how was your afternoon?”

           I stared at him. I really hoped I had my don’t fuck with me face on.

           “Couldn't help but hear that you sounded a little… I don't know… frustrated in the shower.” Kenny smirked. There was a sly look on his face. Like he knew the truth.

           “Man, come on, we took a nap." He didn't need to know any details. "Shit. At least I ain't afraid to be alone with her. Kota did a number on you, didn’t he?”

           He put his foot down and propped his hands on his hips. His face contorted. The offended Kenny face killed me every time. We both busted out laughing. But we both kind of knew it was true. Kota Ibushi was a big deal in Kenny’s life, and the loss of that relationship had really fucked him up. Plus, he hadn't been with a girl in a while and Ken was pretty shy. I got the feeling that Leigh was almost exactly the same. They really related to each other well. Hell, they were perfect for each other.

           Just like me and Mango.

           I balanced on the rail and filled him in on the details of dinner. Out of nowhere, the calm of paradise was split by screams of laughter coming from next door.

           “They sure are special, aren't they?” Kenny asked. It sounded almost as if he was just thinking out loud.

           “Yeah, they are,” I agreed with a huge smile on my face. “Come on man, we gotta bring our A-game tonight.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @lilred91​ @unabashedwrestlefics​

[fanatic-fanfic-blog]

Chapter 1: (no title yet)

(I know I just posted a request about a Donald Pierce fanfic but I had an idea of my own and had to get it out :D You will meet Donald in the next chapter, this is just the beginning of my characters story, so I hope you enjoy! P.S if anyone is still interested in taking a request involving Donald Pierce pm me and I will give the details! So a backstory on the theme of this fic: it is set in the Logan universe, where mutants are hunted down and treated poorly by people in the everyday world.)

I walked through the aisles of the mini mart, looking at the various rows of energy drinks and bags of chips as I grabbed a redbull and made my way to the counter. I paid in the cash my dad had given me a few days prior to buy snacks in between classes, and made my way back out on the busy city street.I lived in new York, and took classes at an independent night school university- mostly because of my anxiety. I hated being around a lot of people at once, especially people around my age. They intimidated me, and I hated feeling intimidated. This, however, meant that I often stayed up during the late hours of the night, though I couldn’t say that I minded. There were always interesting people out on the streets of New York passed midnight- which is when my classes for the night ended. It was a pretty good schedule; weekdays from six to midnight. This gave me the whole day to do whatever I wanted, which mostly involved running, reading, and watching movies. Call me agoraphobic, but I hated going outside when I didn’t have to. I always made time for my morning runs, though. What can I say, I valued my health. As I walked out in the cool summer night air that fell through the cracks of the tall buildings that surrounded me, I stopped to adjust the straps on my backpack.That’s when I felt it- a chill, almost strong enough to be considered an ache at the back of my neck. I turned around just in time to see a man running towards me- staggering almost as if he was drunk- which made the fact that he was quickly closing the distance between us even more frightening. I didn’t know what to do, suddenly forgetting how to move my legs. Suddenly forgetting how to move in general. He approached me quickly, panting heavily from having to run, which made it all the worse for me, as I had to smell the putrid alcohol on his tongue.

“Sa pretty girl like you doin’ out here all alone?” he grinned, eyeing my chest and legs. It was all I could do to stare wide eyed at him. Frozen in fear of what was to come. I couldn’t move, and yet I had always thought of myself to be the type of person who would be good in a situation like this. The kind that would stay calm, and remember what I had been told about self defense. But none of that was registering in my mind at this moment. Only the smell of alcohol and the gleam of a silver blade in his left hand. He saw me eyeing it nervously and looked down at it’s rusted blade.

“Ya like it? Was a gift.” He wheezed out a laugh through his toothy grin, and I had to stop myself from gagging as he pressed it roughly to my side.

“Not a talkative type. Good. We’s gon have some fun tonight darlin’.”

That was it for me. Something finally snapped in my mind as I raised my arm and socked him in the nose as hard and as quickly as I could, hearing the soft fleshy sound of it breaking under the impact. Now run, I thought, and turned around to start sprinting, anywhere, anywhere away from this spot. I made it to the end of the street, starting to run across it when a car came screeching to a halt right in front of me, as I quickly jumped back.

I didn’t say anything, mouth agape as I looked at it, windows tinted and it being too dark to look inside anyways. That was when I heard the stumbling footsteps coming from wher I had just been, and a gurgled “Bitch!”, come from the man with the knife. That knocked some sense into me.

“Help! Help me!” No one got out of the car, it just stayed there, lights turning off after a moment. Then the doors opened; all four of them.

Out came out the scariest group of men I had ever seen in my life- and I had lived in New York since I was three. The first one, the one behind the wheel, was tall- maybe 6’4, with no hair, and a snake tattoo classily winding around his sleeveless arms. The passenger side man had hair, too much of it; long and tangled up in a low ponytail, with a smile that showed too many teeth. All yellowed and decayed, from smoking, it looked like. The two in the back were just as rough looking- one had a gun tucked in the front side of his pants, in front of his shirt for all to see, and the other one was just beginning to bald, with acne scars covering his cheeks and shoulders. No tattoos visible, except a small heart under his eye. And I don’t think that meant “love”.

I said it again, breathy and quiet.

“Help.”

They just looked at me, grins apparent in their eyes if not on their mouths. I was beginning to panic, as the man was fast approaching. The one that had been behind the steering wheel looked me in the eyes as he said the man I had punched, who was now holding his nose, and breathing heavily out of his mouth;

“How’s she treatin you, Joe?”

My heart sank further than I had ever thought possible. In fact, i believe it left my body completely, for I did not feel it beat once after he spoke.

“Little bitch don broke my nose.” He spit out blood next to my shoe, and I looked down at it slowly- seeing the clots and strings of mucus on the sidewalk mixed in with red.

“Aw now, why would she do a thing like that?”

He shut his car door, and so did the others. I backed away feeling my feet go numb. This couldn’t be happening. This doesn’t just happen to someone. This can’t be real.

And yet, I knew exactly what I was looking at. I was looking at my death sentence. In that moment I could picture everything; the police finding my body in some dumpster somewhere in this hell of a city. “She was just walking home from classes”, they’ll explain to my dad, “when she was taken. Raped. Killed.” I was going to be a statistic in a matter of minutes. And it was too much. The man who had been driving told the man named Joe to get in the car, and he happily complied, still nursing his bloody face.

And then I turned, and I ran. But I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough, and I wasn’t brave enough to do anything but scream when the man grabbed me. When he punched stomach, kicked my ribs, ripped open my shirt. The others standing around him, looking out for anyone else. And that’s when it happened- after he tore open my shirt. That’s when I reached up to punch him. Only something hit him before my fist did- something sharp. Because when I saw my fist connect to his face, his whole body stilled, and his eyes went blank. Then I pulled away and saw it; the blades that extended out from my fist, covered and dripping now, in another man’s blood. The other men, they saw this, and they ran. Got in their car, curses flying out of their mouths in every language I had ever been taught, then sped off. I just layed there, next to a dead man, looking at my fist, where the blades had been. Now, there was just a fist, bloody and bruised. In my shocked state, I got up, and I began walking, stopping only once to grab the bag I had been carrying, and sling it back on my back, adjusting the straps. Then I made my way to the police station.

The woman at the front of the station had too much makeup on. She looked to be about 35, and was chewing minty gum as she asked me questions with mock sympathy, and a patronizing stare, looking me up and down; bloody, bruised, wearing shorts and a ripped shirt. I told her everything. How I had been walking when the man named Joe ran up to me with a knife, how I ran and almost got hit by a car full of men who tried to kill me in the street. How I punched him, only there were blades in my hand, and I don’t know what happened. How I walked here from that street, and not a single person stopped to help me.

“I see.” She said simply, typing something into the computer ahead of her, and turning to face me with a smile that seemed a little too forced. “Well, I’m glad you came here when you did. It was the right thing to do- turning yourself in.”

“What?”

“Darren.”

“Yeah?” A man who had been sitting in the back, listening to the whole thing suddenly raised his eyes from the place on the ground he had been staring at the whole time, and met eyes with the lady.

“You know where to take her.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I looked from her to the guy, but she was passed looking me in the eyes. The man stood up, and grabbed my upper arm, signaling for me to stand. I did.

“Please, can I call my dad?” I said, as I realized that the sun was starting to come up, and he must be sick with worry.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Her voice laced with the tiniest hint of resentment. “Everyone who needs to be called will be.”

[thestoriesincoffeestains]

A Second Draft [Alaska/Kyle]

[Continued from here.]

@a-muse-a-dozen

As Kyle had expected, he slept better than he had in years--Alaska in his arms, relaxed and sated, no dreams of either of their parents dying. That lasted until right before his alarm went off to start the day. Sweat beaded along his brow line, his breathing labored, body shaking, Kyle awoke as he shot up in bed. Flashes from his past and false horrors of his future dancing within his mind. A choked sob caught in his throat, his eyes instantly jumping over to where Alaska should be asleep in fear he might have jolted her awake. However, the small writer was not next to him. His already thudding heart began an erratic beat, panic making his blood run cold. Kyle's icy blues scanned the room, trying to find a hint of where his safety net had gone--where was his anchor? Her clothes were missing from his floor, her bag not laying by his desk, along with her jacket and shoes. "No..no...no..no," Kyle kicked his sheets off and leaped from the bed, almost falling to the ground as he rushed toward the bathroom, "She wouldn't leave...she wouldn't leave me...she promised..." The words fell from his lips weaker than Kyle had ever sounded--terror, panic, and heartbreak causing tears to pool in his eyes. The bathroom was exactly how they left it, untouched from anyone being in there this morning. Kyle hurried through his bedroom, grabbing his pajama pants from the floor and pulling them on in a moving hop as he headed toward his door. Maybe she was in the kitchen, either making them something to eat or her morning drug--coffee. "She said nothing would change..." The teen ran a hand through his hair, tears still stinging his eyes, throat dry and tightening. His racing heart came to a sudden stop when Kyle realized the kitchen was empty. No sign of Alaska, no hint she was ever there. The room began to spin and close in around him, sweat painting his shirtless chest and making his hair damp. He grabbed on to the kitchen counter for support as he felt his legs turn to jello.(not done, but i have no more room =[  _The only sound he could hear was his blood rushing through his veins and his unstable breathing. Alaska had left... Kyle tried to breath, tried to remember what Alaska had taught him to control his panic attacks but that only pushed his overworked heart to beat harder. His vision was blurring and he knew the tears were freely falling from his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. Their warmth making him shiver. Kyle's stomach did an unhealthy, unpleasant flip before tightening in a death grip. He could taste bile rushing up his throat. With what strength he had, the teen rushed back to his room to get to his bathroom, pushing past a confused Carly. Within seconds of his knees hitting the tile floor, Kyle was emptying his stomach or what little was in his stomach into the porcelain bowl. What had he done? Why had she left him? Why did he think just maybe there was hope of her loving him as he did Alaska? All these questions filled his head, making him more disoriented and dizzy. Worthlessness, used, cheap, and alone...he was just an orphan, why would she want to stay? He couldn't stop the sob from escaping, tears freely streaming down his face while his body continued to shake and he vomited until there was nothing left and all he could do was dry heave.

Alaska knew that leaving Kyle to wake up without her was borderline cruel, especially after the night they'd shared, but she couldn't. She couldn't wake up beside him, see that starry eyed, beloved look on his face, and survive it. She barely made it home, half running, half stumbling, hot tears streaking her cheeks and leaving her lungs burning. This wasn't what all those hours running was meant for. 

A sob choked from her throat as she tugged her apartment door open, practically breaking the padlock before she thought to stick her key into the door. Stumbling inside, Alaska fell to the floor, pressing her hands against the cold tile as she struggled to suck in a breath. She dragged in breath after breath, trying to catch up to the rapid trainwreck of her heartbeat. It did little to calm her, though. Alaska shoved off the floor, slamming her fist straight into the door. Again, again, one punch after the other, her wrist straight to empower every attack. Her olive skin burned crimson as she exhausted herself, stopping only when the stain of blood colored her knuckles, imprinted against the door. Still huffing, Alaska shoved herself off the ground. He'd hate her. He could. Alaska tore the clothes off her body and shoved each scrap into the bin, slamming her foot against the drawer to shut it. The sound rang in her ears as she headed into the bathroom, showering off the scent of brown sugar. Even with scolding hot water beating against her back, she was reminded of Kyle. Every heartbeat, every breath, he was there, stained into her skin. Alaska screamed until her throat was hoarse, punched until her hands ached too much to lift. She wouldn't be able to flex her fingers, let alone write, without flinching. 

Good. She deserved it. She'd caused Kyle pain; no amount of physical damage she could do to herself would amount to that. 

Alaska forced herself out of the water and get dressed, ignoring her reflection, ignoring the reflection of Kyle's marks in the mirror. Instead, she covered every inch of herself, tugging on leggings and a sweatshirt--not Kyle's--before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

She would never forgive herself for causing Kyle even a single minute of anguish. She'd been so selfish last night, letting a dream blind her from logic. She shouldn't have touched him, kissed him, allowed herself to get drunk off the taste of him. Alaska forced herself to walk, one foot after the next, dreading school and how she would explain herself to Kyle. Alaska drafted a dozen options in her head, but nothing...none of them were what Kyle deserved.

When Carly had followed him into the bathroom, the teen lied. How could he tell his foster mother the truth? That he had spent one amazing night with the woman of his dreams, hopes of the morning bringing a new chapter in their lives, only to wake up alone...no, she wouldn't understand. She might even agree with Alaska, if the writer couldn't love him, want him...why should Carly? It was too risky, so Kyle lied. Lied that it was just a bug going around the school, lied that he was okay...A habit he had given up for Alaska's sake. No lies, meant no chance of that being a reason for getting sent back into the system. His foster mother had offered to stay home with him, but he let his old cold exterior surface--the independent needs no one teen telling the kind woman that he could take care of himself. Carly hesitated, could see the clear heartache and anguish painting his face. Now though wasn't the time for a fight or time to push him. She left, leaving Kyle to hug the toilet. He laid there until he heard the front door open and shut. He pushed himself off the floor, moving toward the bedroom. Fresh tears running down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around himself staring at the bed. Anger boiled inside of him, he had given every last part of himself to Alaska...he was an idiot. The smell of sex made his nauseous once more as he approached the bed, staring at it as if the bed was the cause of all of this pain. In a rage, Kyle threw a pillow--her pillow--across the room and then began to strip the bed. He couldn't take the smell. After loading them into the washer, Kyle went back to his bathroom...hands scratching at his skin, red marks marking his arms. Turning the water to the hottest setting, Kyle climbed in. The teen scrubbed until his skin was raw, washing all he could of the night before off--he felt used and cheap, played in a game he had thought was reality. He was a nobody....all he would ever be.

Alaska stared at Kyle's deal, as if she could suddenly will him to appear. Homeroom came and went, then first period, second...Each time she expected him to be there, bouncing around like Tigger amped on RedBull. Instead, she walked to each class alone, a tight, sick feeling twisting her stomach. She checked her phone multiple times, but no...Kyle didn't owe her an explanation. She'd taken advantage--even with his approval. Alaska knew she didn't deserve Kyle's love or attention--a fact she knew long ago. Today only reaffirmed the truth; he was too good for her. So much more than she could ever deserve. Alaska kept her hands hidden beneath the sleeves of her sweatshirt, ensuring no one saw the cuts on her knuckles. By lunch, she knew Kyle wasn't coming to school, and the reason was clear. She skipped the rest of her classes, stopping at the market long enough to pick up a single flower. She left the long stem bud against his windowsill, but didn't knock against the glass. An apology flower...not that she'd ever deserve his forgiveness.

Once Kyle had scrubbed so hard small amounts of blood had pushed through his pores, did Kyle actually stop. Another bloodcurling sob left his lips. Never had he felt this broken. He would take the abuse of a foster father, from the bullies at school, even the pain from losing his parents again over the swallowing darkness that was now surrounding him. He turned off the water as it went cold, climbing out and putting on whatever clothes he could find the easiest. He didn't want to be in his bed but he wanted to lay down, hope the world would stop trying to swallow him and stop spinning. Kyle grabbed his pillow and curled up into a ball on the floor, the teen still letting tears slip down his cheeks. Every part of his body ached. His eyes closed against his will and he fell into a fitful, nightmarish sleep. Each nightmare keeping him hostage and tormenting his soul even more. Kyle couldn't wake himself up as his mind decided to punish him for having even an ounce of hope the night before. Hours later, the teen woke up. His shirt and hair soaked with sweat, cheeks stained with tears, and his throat so dry and raw. He glanced at the clock, knew Carly would be home soon. Kyle stood and locked his bedroom door, then moved to turn on his stereo to blare music. Tactics he had used in the beginning to keep the woman away from him. He moved to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and getting a small glass of water. Kyle's eyes met his own in the mirror. All he could see was the worthless pathetic fool he had become. Without a thought, Kyle slammed his fist into the glass, pieces embedding into his hand, shards slicing his skin like a knife through butter. Kyle didn't care. All he did was pull his hand back and watch the blood run. The only thing proving he was still alive and not a shell. The pain from the glass distracting him from the pain of losing the one person he had ever truly loved. Carefully, Kyle pulled a shard out of his hand. It had been awhile since he had eventhought of self hurting. He had no reason to want to feel anything, Alaska was his life...his reason...he had had no reason to want to end things either. Now though...now his world was lonely and empty again. He placed the sharpest part of the shard over an old scar, his hands shaking. The teen pressed just a little but stopped...Alaska's voice screaming at him, begging him. A growl left his lips and he threw the shard across the bathroom. She was even ruining what little piece of the world he had that could give him peace. Kyle backed up against the wall, realizing the state of his hand, blindly reaching for a towle. "I thought you loved me..." Kyle cried softly. "I thought you needed me a much as I needed you....we--we were supposed to be family..."

Alaska couldn't force herself to leave Kyle's window. Even with the window shut and blinds down--he always left it cracked open, just for her, a silent invitation...but not now--she could feel that tug between them. And yet...and yet she knew she couldn't explain her reasons for leaving, couldn't justify how much she'd hated herself in that moment. No, hated wasn't a strong enough a word to capture how much she truly despised her choices. She shouldn't have left...but she shouldn't have given in to her desire for Kyle, either. Even with their pact, the memory of last night would forever exist between them. She couldn't erase that. She wanted to slip through his window, into his arms, but she couldn't. She couldn't hurt Kyle further than she already had with an explanation she knew he'd argue against. Instead, Alaska forced herself to walk home, every step between them another thorn in her heart--a thorn she'd pierced through her skin herself. No amount of pain, no slight bit of physical, mental, or emotional ache, would ever compare to what she'd done to Kyle. Ever. She didn't eat, didn't touch her coffee machine, didn't even bother to sleep. Instead, she positioned herself in front of her punching bag, going at it until she could no longer stand. Collapsing against the floor for the second time that day, Alaska pressed her back against the bag, fighting off fears as she struggled to breathe. The sun rose, and she forced herself through the same routine again--shower, walk, sit. Alaska folded her arms against the desk and hid her head, unsure if she could handle staring at Kyle's empty seat yet again. 

Kyle didn't eat that day, he could barely hold down even a small glass of water. All he did was sleep once he got the bleeding to stop and cleaned up the mess. Carly would have questions, but he'd just lie, make up an excuse that fit the situation and move on. Move on? What was there to move on to? There was no purpose anymore. Not without Alaska. Carly tried to get him to join her for dinner but he just ignored her knocks and calls. That night, after the sun had set Kyle grabbed his jacket and snuck out. He saw the flower--knew what it meant and who it was from, all it did was cause his heart to ache more. "Liar..." Kyle mumbled dropping the flower to the ground. Was he calling Alaska a liar or was he calling his perception of reality--of the last few months and the night before--a liar? Even he didn't know. Kyle wondered around the streets, hood of his jacket pulled up, head down and hands tucked into his pockets. He walked for hours aimlessly until his feet wouldn't take another step. Looking around the busy city, yes the boy had wondered that far, he wondered what it would be like to just get lost. Could he make it on his own? He had run off before. Could he disappear in the Queen City, a city filled with secrets and crime? Possibly. No one would miss him. Kyle stayed to the shadows, merely watching. He didn't turn to leave until he saw the first hints of the sun beginning to show themselves. One day soon he would come back and disappear, he just had to be prepared. Kyle climbed through his window, throwing on fresh clothes and grabbed his backpack. Kyle left before Carly even had a chance to see him or question him. Walking through the halls, he kept his head down. The teen made himself as small as possible, shoulders hunched. The smaller he was, the less people would see him. He knew how to be invisible. He made it to homeroom. Instead of taking his usually seat, Kyle took one in the back corner once he saw Alaska. He could avoid her as just as she had him.

Alaska remained facing forward, her eyes hollow, gazing through everything, everyone around her. She always knew life would feel dense without Kyle, as if someone had torn the last breath of air from her lungs, but this...this felt futile. She operated on automatic, lifting her head only when the bell rang, forcing herself out of her seat only to avoid attention that would be caused if she lingered. When she turned to grab her bag off her seat, just briefly, it was enough to catch a glimpse of Kyle, and that...that was enough to rip her heart right open. Alaska remained rooted at the spot, staring at him as if seeing a ghost. As if it hadn't just been a day without seeing him, but a decade. Her eyes looked bloodshot from tears and lack of sleep, and even a single day without food left her looking frail. She really out ate to make sure Kyle did, and when she forgot, she only remembered with his urging. Alaska tugged her sleeves down, ensuring her knuckles were covered, and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could manage, her eyes welled up. Alaska slumped back into her seat, pressing her eyes into the hems of her sleeves. The guilt was like poison, putrid and suffocating. That wasn't how Kyle used to look at her. Would he ever look at her that way again?

[artificialqueens]

Ride you like my Harley - Trixya - Chapter 3 - AnnieSantaWifey

A/N - AU world inspired by the TV show Sons of Anarchy. I will be using some characters from the actual show in this and future chapters. Everything is told from Katya’s POV.

T/W - bad language, horrible pick up lines, probably grammar mistakes, mentions of drugs.

“Well, Miss Mattel, I am pretty damn sure I was promised something.”

Katya spoke as soon as they exited the tattoo shop with the biggest grin on her face, rubbing her own boobs slightly to test how much they hurt. It’s not that bad, Brenda, don’t worry. Getting shot in the shoulder was way worse. She was happy she finally got her new piercing so she would survive.

“I can’t believe you didn’t cry. They put a needle in your nipple!”

“I have had needles in other places, Tracy.” The biker replied, keeping her grin on, hoping Trixie would understand it as another one of her stupid jokes even though it was a very serious matter for Katya that she wasn’t ready to talk about with Trixie yet, if ever.

She then looked over at the now only slightly taller girl - thank you high boots - smiling as soon as she fixed her gaze on her, taking a step towards her and her smile getting wider when Trixie took a step back since she was surprised by Katya’s sudden moves.

“You.” Step. “Owe.” Another step. “Me.” Next one. “A.” One more step. “Kiss.” Last step.

The pink dressed girl was pressed against the cold wall of the tattoo shop, looking in Katya’s eyes before flicking to her lips and back onto her eyes. The biker on the other hand had her eyes fixed in the baby blues all the time.

She started to move even closer if it was even possible, pressing her hands on the wall next to Trixie’s head and she could feel her sensitive breasts pressing against the so much bigger ones that had the other girl.

The feel of Trixie’s breath against her face was driving her crazy and the big lips were too tempting to wait for the Barbie doll to make the first move.

And so she did.

Pressing her own lips against Trixie’s, leaning into her touch as soon as she felt the other girl responding, her hands linking together behind the taller girl’s neck. She felt Trixie’s hands on her back and she tugged on the pink lower lip, asking for a proper permission to enter her mouth that tasted like strawberries and redbull. What a combination.

As soon as she got her permission and her tongue found Trixie’s, there was a mixture of sweet and harsh tastes as strawberries and redbull met cigarettes and coffee.

They both lost track of time as their mouths found their own rhythm, sweet noises escaping Trixie’s mouth that were a song to Katya’s ears. The biker was sure they would stand there for hours if they weren’t interupted by wolf whistles coming from the across the road.

Katya pulled away, finally opening her eyes and the view she got almost made her take Trixie right there. Half-hooded looking eyes, swollen lips that were still slightly open and blush spreading all across her cheeks. God what a view. Take a picture right now, Brenda.

She then turned around, taking a step back from Trixie to give both her and her now very painful breasts a break, noticing Milk and Adore standing across the street.

“Fuck off!” She called out at them, rolling her eyes as she gave them the middle finger, shaking her head with a chuckle as she watched them ride away before she could throw something at them.

Seeing Trixie move in the corner of eyes, she turned back, watching the other girl fix her clothes and the biker ran her fingers through her own hair, licking her lips when she remembered the sweet taste of Trixie’s lips against her own.

“Took your breath away?” She wiggled her eyebrows at the Barbie doll.

“In your dreams.”

“I take your breathe away in my dreams by a different way, принцесса.” The biker answered jokingly even though she was deadly serious.

“You strangle me because I get too tired of your stupid jokes?”

“Wow, Tracy. You sure know how to break a poor girl’s heart.” She put on her dramatic voice again, only stopping when she felt Trixie’s hands poking her sides, comfortable laughter finding them again.

“You know, princess.” She started talking again after a while of silence. “We can try a Russion version. It’s almost the same as a French kiss but lower.” Katya finished with a wink, yelping a second after when Trixie poked her in her very painful breasts.

“Rotted Gila monster!”

——

Two days later Katya was parking her bike in front of Wendy’s coffee shop, hopping down from the lover of her life, almost leaning down to give her beloved Harley a kiss before she realized there are actually people around her and so she quickly stood up, taking her sunglasses off and hanging them onto her shirt.

She responded to a greeting from a person that she couldn’t remember the name of even if her life depended on it, continuing her walk to the shop when she spotted the owner, Wendy, standing in front of the door, talking angrily to two guys that looked very much like assholes.

Ah, Brenda, I told you it’s been too peaceful lately.

“Hello, gentleman, do we have a problem here?” She called out as soon as she was close enough, smacking her hands onto their shoulders, making them move a bit futher away from Wendy. Taking a step forward so she was now standing next to the other woman, turning her attention to the now even more angry looking men.

She pulled out a cigarette, placing it between her lips as she raised her eyebrows at the both of them before nodding to Wendy who waved her hand, slightly nodding to the angrier looking man but only Katya noticed that she did.

Oh. Oh. Wendy’s ‘date’ from months ago that kept bothering her. Oh, this is going to be fun.

“Pete can’t apparently understand that I have zero interest in him and that he needs to stop bothering me or I am going to call the police.”

Damn, Wendy, get it girl.

“There is no need for that, right, gentleman?” Katya then spoke, finally lighting her cigarette, placing the lighter back into her pocket. “Because you, assholes, are going to turn around and leave before something not very pleasant for you will happen.” She continued seriously, ignoring Wendy tugging onto her hand.

If the guys had any brains at all, they should just turn around and leave. You do not mess with a Rumigo girl or with her family.

Katya could see that the smaller and obviously smarter of the two took a step back but the asshole that kept bothering Wendy after she rejected him kept on standing exactly at the same spot.

Anger was slowly rising inside of her. If there was something she couldn’t stand it was assholes who thought they can bother girls or harass them. It was even worse when the harassed person was someone close to her heart.

“And I need you both to apologize to my dear friend Wendy here for your behaviour today.” She then added, anger showing in her eyes but her lips were formed into a shit eating grin that screamed ‘Do not fuck with me’. The blonde then brought her cigarette to her lips, taking another drag of it.

“You gotta be kidding me, bitch!”

Those words only added to Katya’s anger as she took the cigarette between her fingers, blowing the smoke into his face before her elbow met his cheek in the hardest way it could, making the guy fall down right to her feet. She then turned over to his smarter friend, the smile never leaving her face.

“Do you think I am kidding?”

The guy only shook his head as he grabbed his dear friend by his shoulders, muttering 'I am sorry’ and making the asshole say the same by a punch into the shoulder. He then dragged him away along with him while Katya stood there, watching them as she finished her cigarette with Wendy still standing next to her, now quietly chuckling.

“Thank you, Katya.”

“Anytime, love. That was the guy that thought you are on a date when you didn’t have a single interest in him, right?”

“Yeah. This is the second time this happened. The first time Raja saw him and almost cut his balls off. I don’t think he will be going back after this.”

“Good. He better not. Or I am going to cut his balls off myself.”

“I can’t believe you guys are so protective of me.”

“Always. You are the mother of my nephew after all. I am not letting anyone lay a finger on you.”

“You know, I think you are even more scarier than your brother.”

“Well, thank you for noticing. I am trying my best here.”

They both laughed as Katya wrapped her arms around her, picking her up from the ground and carrying her to the shop with her.

——

To: Princess

I just had the best coffee in my life but nothing is better than the taste of your lips.

She sent the text, quickly putting her phone away right after to give Wendy her full atention. She was telling her about her nephew Abel and with this topic, Katya didn’t have to pretend she is interested because she truly was. Plus, she hasn’t seen Wendy or Abel in a long time now and she felt really bad about it.

When she was finally in her room, an hour later, she picked her phone again, frowning slightly when there was still no answer from Trixie.

To: Princess

Can you die from a lack of attention?

From: Princess

Do you want to come over tonight?

To: Princess

Wow, Ангел. You should ignore me more often if it means a sleepover every single time.

From: Princess

I am sorry, I was busy but I can make it up to you. By only two words!

To: Princess

Lesbian sex?

From: Princess

Chocolate cookies.

To: Princess

Oh, you sure know how to make a girl swoon over you, Tracy.

——

Fuck, Brenda, I can’t believe I decided to leave my jacket at home. I feel naked. I am naked. I can’t live without my jacket. Why do you keep letting me fuck up? You are seriously no help.

The biker was just about to leave so she can go get her jacket but suddenly the door opened and the beautiful Barbie doll was standing right there.

“Leaving so soon?” She watched her chuckle and lean against the doorframe.

“Hi, babygirl.” Katya was quick to make her way back to the other girl, the thoughts of leaving disappearing after seeing her smile.

“I have a shirt that says babygirl.”

A smirk found its way onto Katya’s face after hearing that statement. “Wear it.”

Raised eyebrow and a chuckle was the response she got. “Please.” She then added before leaning in to place a kiss on the lips she could still feel on her own from the first time they kissed.

“Okay.” The Barbie said as she pulled Katya inside.

——

Katya dropped her backpack on the floor next to the couch before settling herself down on it. “So I know you never exactly said sleepover but I brought stuff anyway. Even though I am hoping I won’t need any clothes.” She spoke as she looked around the living room, frowning slightly when she couldn’t find Trixie anywhere. The fuck?

But then she came out of what Katya assumed was a bedroom with a shirt that said 'Babygirl’. Oh.

Kill me, Brenda. Before this nymph does.

“We can do a sleepover. I kind of meant a sleepover anyway, to be honest.” The Barbie spoke as she made her way to Katya who pulled her down onto the couch next to her as soon as she was close enough.

“Look at you. One kiss and you already want me all to yourself. And I am perfectly okay with that.” She winked at the girl, pulling her into her arms and smiling widely when she felt Trixie’s arms wrap around her.

What the fuck am I doing, Brenda? I don’t do cuddling. I do fucking.

But when Trixie pulled herself closer, putting her head on Katya’s shoulder and throwing her leg over the biker’s, she forgot about all her thoughts and just leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling of another body pressed against her own.

She pressed a kiss into Trixie’s hair. “You smell good.”

Jesus, shut the fuck up, Yekaterina.

Trixie’s answer was a giggle and Katya watched her rest on elbows so she was on the same face level like the biker herself. “Thank you.” The Barbie then whispered, seeming slightly surprised about the fact that her own voice came out like that.

“You are welcome.” Katya answered with a whisper herself before she brought a hand to touch Trixie’s cheek, resting her other hand on the girl’s back as she finally leaned in for a proper kiss.

Their tongues found their own rhytm again but this time, there was no one watching them, no one interupting them.

The kiss got more heated by every second and they both needed to breathe, that was why Katya pulled back a bit only to continue her kisses down her jaw, jawline, ending on her neck.

Her lips explored the soft neck of the girl in her arms that only let out sweet noises as answers. And Katya found herself leaving love bites all over Trixie’s neck, enjoying the soft skin and the heartbeat that she could feel under her own lips, smiling into the Barbie’s neck at the fact that her heartbeat was getting faster.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You don’t leave hickeys. You don’t leave marks. You don’t leave tracks. No evidence. No proof you have been with the person. Fuck.

She blinked, pulling away a little bit just so she could look at Trixie’s neck, immediately noticing the two biggest love bites on the girl’s neck.

Katya knew it wasn’t a big deal, hickeys. But for her it was. She never left them on the person she has been with. She usually didn’t even know shit about the other person and she sure as hell didn’t want any boyfriends or girlfriends behind her ass. It was easy. No marks. No proof.

But the longer she stared at the hickeys she just left on Trixie’s neck, the more it just felt right. She was marking her as if she was the only one that could do this to the other girl. And she wanted that.

And I shouldn’t. Fuck.

The biker then slowly sat up, pushing all her confused thoughts and feelings in the back of her head, placing a kiss onto Trixie’s forehead before standing up and stretching her back.

“Would her highness mind telling me where the bathroom is?”

—— “Katya!” The owner of the name jumped up as she heard Trixie’s voice, an angry sounding voice.

“..Yeah?” She asked as she closed the door of the bathroom, making her way back to the living room where Trixie was sitting with a small mirror in her hands, looking at the new creations that Katya left on her. Oh.

“You like?” She asked smugly, leaning behind the other girl as she wrapped her arms around her from behind, the couch being the only thing between them.

“I am going to get so much shit from Kim and the others as soon as they see this.” The Barbie doll sighed but her eyes told Katya that she wasn’t even properly mad.

“Put some patches on it?”

A slight punch in her breast was the answer that she got and she hissed since her nipples were still pretty sensitive.

“Still hurts, huh?” Trixie said, the smirk that was so often placed on Katya’s face could now be found on the Barbie’s.

“This is bullying. Mom. Save me.” The biker pouted at the other girl before jumping over the couch to grab the plate of chocolate cookies she was promised earlier.

She hummed in pleasure as soon as she took a bite, noticing Trixie’s wide smile. “Did you make those?”

“Yeah, I did. Tastes good?”

The blonde nodded quickly, smiling widely as she took another bite, looking more like her nephew Abel right now than she wanted.

“Did I ever tell you that your eyes are beautiful?”

“If you want to sleep with me all you need to do is ask, Barbie.”

A pillow was thrown her way and it only brought a chuckle to Katya’s lips. She finished her cookie, reaching for another one straight away.

“Can I do your make up?”

“Can you do the fuck now?”

“Your make up! Your eyes are really nice and you have a good bone structure. I think if I put blue eyeshadow on you it would look so good. Or maybe some gold. Oh, wait! Blue eyeshadow and pink lipstick, yes!”

Katya didn’t even have a chance to say anything before Trixie was already almost running to her room to grab her make up.

She wants me dead. She wants to kill me, Brenda. Help. Call 911.

She guessed she was making a disgusted face since Trixie stopped in the middle of her movements of grabbing some make up brushes.

“Can I?” She could hear the Barbie doll ask and fuck, she is so cute. How can I say no? Ugh.

“Yeah, yeah, fine. It will be your fault when I am prettier than you.”

And that was how she found herself sitting on the floor, being painted by the other girl. But her adorable focused expression and soft smile was worth it.

——

After Trixie did Katya’s make up and Katya finished eating all of the cookies, they watched some movie that the biker girl forgot the name of since she was watching Trixie anyway all the time. They were curled up together through the whole evening, cuddling and kissing, giggling and talking about the most random things on Earth.

Hours with the Barbie felt like minutes and before they knew it, it was two in the morning and Trixie was dragging Katya off the couch even after her protests.

“No, let me dieee.” The blonde groaned not wanting to get up from the comfortable sofa.

“I am not letting you sleep on the couch when my bed is big enough for three cows.”

“Are you calling me a cow, Tracy?”

“Now I am imagining you sucking on an udder.”

Katya’s crazy laughter filled the room as she wrapped her arms around the Barbie doll, skipping with her to the bedroom, looking around as soon as she was inside and noticing a guitar immediately.

“I didn’t know you can play a guitar.”

“Oh, yeah. I can. I wanted to find a hobby and I have always wanted to play an instrument so I just got one when I was about thirteen.”

“Play me something? Please.”

She could see hesitation all around Trixie’s face. “Pretty please.” She asked one more time, jumping onto the bed as she watched Trixie pick up the guitar and sit right opposite her.

Through the whole time Trixie was playing the guitar and singing, Katya was watching her like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole universe without even knowing so. Of course that Trixie saw the look on her face and for a moment Katya could see the same look on the other girl’s face as well.

It just feels right, Brenda. It feels right.

—— “It was beautiful. You are.” Katya said when Trixie finished her song, not even caring that she didn’t use a stupid pick up line as a compliment, just a simple one that meant so much more than the other ones she gave away so easily.

“Thank you.” She found the other girl blushing and it made her order Brenda to remind her that she needs to tell Trixie that she is beautiful more often.

“Wait, when did you manage to change into your PJ’s? I wanted to watch!”

Katya then called out when she properly looked at Trixie once again.

“When you were stuffing your mouth with cookies like two hours ago.”

“Well, damn. But it’s really selfish, Tracy, you know? You’re going to have that body for the rest of your life and I just want it for one night.”

“Shut up and go change! Or if you are going to sleep in those dirty pants? No, wait, you are not. This is my bed. Change, dirty cow.”

Katya faked a dramatic gasp once again as she throwed a pillow at Trixie before breaking into laughter and jumping off the bed, she made her way back to the living room to grab her bag before going right back, throwing a face of disgust Trixie’s way for making her walk that far.

She then opened the bag, grabbing the shorts and an oversized shirt she brought along with her. Trixie should feel lucky because Katya usually slept naked or only in her underwear but she figured unless her and Trixie ended up sleeping together tonight, the other girl would probably prefer her having some actual clothes to sleep in.

The biker then threw the hoodie she had on over her head, taking her top along with it as well before moving down onto her pants, a yelp interupted her and she looked over at Trixie who was watching her. “Private show, princess. Enjoy it.”

She said as she slowly undid her pants, dragging them down to her ankles before taking them off completely. Now only standing there in her black underwear. She then started walking towards Trixie who was watching her every moment with darker eyes than usual, leaning down to her level only to give her the smallest kiss that she could like the right tease she was before pulling away completely and changing into the shirt she brought with her, adding the shorts quickly.

When she was dressed she jumped into the bed next to Trixie, grabbing the blanket as she did so and pulling it over them. She gave the beautiful girl laying next to her a smile before she leaned in now for a proper kiss, their bodies tangling into each other’s once again.

“Goodnight, Katya.”

“Goodnight, babygirl.”

[polandspringz]

Ernest Shackleton Loves Me- ONE SHOT

I swear no one knows about this musical and I got an advertisement for it after writing an essay about my boi Shackleton in PARCC and now I’m obsessed. So, here’s a short fic done while listening to the demos of the soundtrack that was finished instead of the hundreds of others fics that I’ve been trying to finish for a year and the ones I promised to write.

(This wasn’t proofread at all and I only got minimal plot details from reviews I scavenged for and the demo songs themselves so unless you want accurate things someone get a bootleg of the show or get it popular enough that we get the official soundtrack please)

The computer light illuminated the room in a whitish blue glow, eerily flickering back the shadows of the fallen blinds on the windows of the small apartment. Kat sat, unmoving, her body hunched over the keyboard as her pointer finger hesitated, pretending to twitch above right mouse button while her deadened eyes scanned across the computer screen.  Line after line of composition stared back at her, gray backdrop with colored bars and varying scales, all that screamed melodies and harmonies into the silence. In the top left corner, a small window was flashing as a bar slowly filled itself as the minutes ticked by. The clock at the bottom of the screen read three in the morning, as did it scream she was in desperate need of moving and finding not only a bed, but her charger. However, the clock above the desk was still at the stroke of midnight, or noon, of several months ago, as it had been long since she had remembered to change it.

Kat continued to watch the screen with no change in expression. Entranced by the hum of the internal mechanisms of her hard drive and fan that had long since been blocked out after hypnosis took hold of her six hours ago, her stomach grumbled, her eyes sagged, and her hair had been collecting grease and oil for days as she struggled to finish the battle music. Her violin was sitting haphazardly in her lap, hoisted at an angle by her thighs which were uneven by the way she was kneeling on one knee in the broken swivel chair. Not even if her baby were to cry would she move, not until that bar was full.

In the left corner of the room, a refrigerator slammed open as a leg emerged from behind the door. A foot and soon another pressed themselves steady onto the stained carpeted floor of the apartment, leaving snow behind all the way. Kat remained still at the computer, headphones flattening her ears against her skull. With a sigh, the man wrung the snow, water, and cold out of his hat as he strided over to her. He stood behind her, watching her statue-like form caught in the glow of the screen. With a smile growing on his scruffy face, he leaned forward and draped his arms over the woman before wrapping them around her gently.

“It’s late, babe.” Ernest mumbled as he nuzzled himself against her nape before settling against her shoulder. Almost instantaneously, Kat’s body jolted to life with energy, and then she melted, her legs unbending to fall over the chair, one hand steadying her violin as she fell back against Ernest, one hand coming up to insincerely pry at one of the arms that had loosely found its way in front of her collarbone.

“You’re back early.” She grinned herself, shutting her eyes as she pulled her headphones off her ears, “Weren’t you supposed to go back to England and I was supposed to get back to work with my new job?” She asked, slyness seeping into her tone. Shackleton lifted himself from his place at her shoulder, and his stubble scraped the side of her face. His dopey and tired grin faded as his eyes flashed with seriousness.

“Yes, I was. But, that didn’t mean killing yourself at this- this” His hands flapped.

“Computer.” She supplied, and he grumbled slightly in agreement, “Ernest, that’s just how my job goes. With Charlie to take care of, I’m bound to fall behind at some points. This is how everyone in this day and age makes up for lost time.”

“And how do you make up for lost sleep?” He asked, plucking her violin from her lap, and laying it in the case that he had learned in his previous months spent here to be seated amongst the wires and extension cords beneath the desk.

“Redbull.” She shot him a toothy grin from behind her scratched and dirty glasses as he towered above her, arms crossed. The computer light flickered across his face as the screen demanded power, the bar almost full. Seeing this, Kat began to flail about, and Ernest sighed and yanked the cord out from behind the desk and swiftly shoved it into the side of the laptop. Then, he promptly shut the computer, and the room was bathed in stripes of moonlight from the single window instead.

“Ernest!” Kat cried, “It wasn’t finished yet! I can’t rest until it’s finished process-” A finger pressed to her lips, silencing her before she felt hands creep underneath her. Soon, she was lifted up into the air, and Ernest was stomping across her floor in his heavy Antarctic clothes and boots towards her bed. The woman in his arms flailed a bit, but eventually stilled when her legs brushed against the soft blankets of the bed. Ernest lowered her down into the pillow, and her head lolled a little bit as she was instantly hit with the days of sleep deprivation that had been forced into overdrive in the recent hours. Tugging an elastic off her wrist, Ernest supported her slightly before he pulled her bangs and hair up and out of the way, as he knew she liked it when she slept. Then, he pulled up the thick sherpa blanket he had given her as a gift half a year ago when they had last seen each other. As it passed his hands, he couldn’t help but notice how it smelled like her now, instead of cold, white, outdoors.

The hum of the computer died down, and the room was truly bathed in silence for a few moments as Ernest watched Kat breath slowly as her eyes shut and her mind fell into peace and ease. Something akin to a struggle crossed his expression. He wanted to stay, but...it would be selfish and would only hurt her more when the time finally came that he-

There was a loud snore and Ernest’s eyes refocused as he looked down. Kat had shifted and was now burritoed in the blankets, her face submerged in it where her knees and arms had yanked it up towards her face. There was a creak and a clatter and Ernest looked towards the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, the small, garage-sale one she had picked up years ago. The head of a man covered in snow peaked out, and then two more followed. They blinked owlishly at Ernest, looking more like boys than men. Kat snored once more, and Ernest groaned. Throwing up his hands, he relented.

“Very well, lads! But this is the last time. You understand as well as I do that-” But his words were silenced as man after man piled into the small room and settled themselves around Kat’s bed, sitting on the floor with their backs to the mattress, perfectly content to lean against the sides of the blankets that spilled off the sides and embrace the heat that filled the apartment through unnatural means. Seeing this, Ernest finally gave in, and shucked off his extra layers and boots. Dressed modestly but minimally, he stepped over one of his men and climbed to the other side of the bed, curling up on the outside of the blankets as he watched Kat breathe in and out softly, a break occurred every so often when she would let out a particularly loud snore, her face crinkling up and disrupting the peace.

With a smile that only grew wider at each snore, Ernest cupped Kat’s face as his heart seemed to blossom more and more with love for the woman in front of him, and for a while, he pushed the thoughts of what history had in store for him out of his mind. Delving into sleep, he and his men followed Kat into it’s own hypnotic embrace.

At least until the bar on the computer was full.