#I still have to go over hash tables...

[chickenisamazing]

Okay I'm doing something incredibly wrong but it's 12:30 AM so I'm gonna hope and pray that this doesn't come up on the test

[stevieschrodinger]

“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”

“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”

Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”

“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.

“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”

Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”

“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”

“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”

“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”

Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-

“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”

He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.

“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.

It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.

Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.

“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”

“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.

Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”

“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.

Part Two

[ruesol]

You suspect that Simon might have a crush on you (much to your happiness). So you decide to harmlessly manipulate him into admitting it by asking him to set you up with one of his friends.

Note: fem!reader

main masterlist

—

r/advice

u/throwaway123:

How do I (F) subtly find out if my friend (M33) likes me?

Replies:

u/sudsysoap: there’s no need to be subtle. ask him to sleep with you lmao [+50, -10]

u/pricetag: agree with u/sudsysoap, men will sleep with anything as long as it has a hole [+30, -20]

u/log1cal: ask him to set you up with his friends. I did that and now we have 2 kids and a third one on the way. That prank will work wonders [+100, -7]

You had a feeling that Simon liked you. It felt obvious. He would walk by the street on the sidewalk to protect you, brought you deadbolts for your mangy apartment that you only live in for the cheap rent, would buy you groceries when you were too tired to leave your bed, and of course, would be very patient with you when you’d be feeling irritated.

Okay, maybe, he just treated you like how a best friend should but that still wouldn’t explain why he’d come to your apartment, in your crime ridden neighborhood and cuddle with you right after deployment. Not even bothering to shower before laying himself down on you like a starfish.

“I just want to feel warm,” was his answer whenever you’d ask him why he did so.

You never complained though. Instead, you relished the feeling of his heavy and exhausted body against yours. Enjoying the almost territorial hold he had on you. Like most friendships, it was a symbiotic relationship.

You both never kept much from each other. Obviously there were many aspects of his job that you couldn’t ask about and you respected that.

However, you both had hidden feelings and neither of you wanted to put your cards on the table out of the fear of rejection.

You watched as the man scarfed down his Sunday breakfast- a sort of inside tradition where you’d both go to a cafe near your apartment and scarf down food. It always happened on the first Sunday after his return from deployment.

The words from that one Reddit comment lingered in your mind.

He felt your eyes on him from your end of the booth and placed his fork down, still in his grasp. “Somethin’ on my face?” his gruff voice asked. 

“No, I’m just wondering if they even fed you at all.”

He let out a sarcastic ‘ha’ and went back to eating. You were getting antsy to the point where you began to pick at your hash brown with your fork, the crisp golden patty crumbling with every poke.

You wanted to try the trick so bad.

But what if he doesn’t like you like that? What if he does end up setting you up with a man you aren’t interested in because you decided to be sly for a moment?

Fuck it. At least this would be the least explicit way.

“I’m so tired of being single,” you huffed as you leaned back into the leather cushioned booth. Simon did not give any sort of reaction. Instead he directed his attention to his coffee as he mixed it with some zero calorie sweetener.

“All the guys in this city are so weird. I’ve done everything to get a boyfriend,” you continued to complain. Simon sipped his beverage and looked through the menu again (probably for a second helping of sausages).

Still no reaction. Sometimes you wondered how you even became friends with him.

“Wait, I know.”

His demeanor changed as his blue eyes flit to your figure. “You should set me up with one of your military friends,” you said as you smiled like a scientist who had just made a great discovery in their field.

Simon beckoned you over with his hand. Confused, you slid towards his end of the booth. “What?”

He lightly knocked on the top of your head like it was a door. “Thank God,” he muttered out.

“What was that for?” You replaced his hand with yours on your head, checking to see if he was trying to remove any lint.

“Tryin’ to check if your skull was hollow.”

“Fuck you, Simon. All I did was ask for a favor.”

The man folded his arms, biceps begging to be let out of the confinement of his sleeves. Your heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster at the sight.

“Is it because I’m not pretty?”

“Where’d that even come from? I-“

“So you agree that I’m not pretty,” you imposed before huffing and turning away from him.

“Oh my—fuck, just listen to me.”

You open your mouth to say more but you decide to give your friend a break.

He cleared his throat and turned your shoulders towards him. Your skin burned when his calloused palms situated themselves on you. “First of all, you’re not ugly. You’re basically out of their league.” You never understood why he couldn’t just compliment you like a normal person.

“Second, you deserve someone who will actually give you all their time. Something my military friends can’t do. You’re not going to be a priority.”

You felt like shrinking in your seat. His reasoning was ambiguous. You couldn’t tell if he was denying your request because he didn’t want your heart broken or because he actually liked you.

“Oh, okay.” You looked away from him in embarrassment. So much for miracles.

“Besides—“

He then went on to replace the deconstructed hash brown on your plate with his non battered one.

“—you might find someone if you look hard enough.”

Your head perked up. Was the ever so candid Simon Riley hinting at something?

“What do you mean?”

“Go out with me.” No beating around the bush anymore.

“Very funny, Simon.”

“I’m not good at making jokes. I like you.”

Oh.

OH.

You made a mental note to thank that one Reddit comment later. Trying your best not to smile, you let out a deep a breath before speaking. “Truth be told, I like you too. I don’t just let any man barge into my house and lay with me.”

“You’d better not,” Simon said as he pulled you into his side and then pushed your head close to his with his hand behind your neck.

“Been waitin’ for you to admit that,” he said before leaving a deep kiss on your mouth.

[obsesssedblerd]

Either he is utterly clueless, or he’s toying with you because he knows you think he’s attractive. You don’t know which is worse.

Choso, your roommate, walks around the kitchen of your shared apartment, preparing breakfast like he does every other weekend—when he works less hours due to his little brother staying over for a few nights. In the living room, you can hear Yuuji and best friend, Megumi, playing video games together and enjoying the slow Saturday morning. 

You should focus on that and maybe offer to play games with them- No, you should focus on the smell of the food. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, something sweet that’s baking in the oven. However, you don’t focus on any of that, and your feet remain glued to their spot at the kitchen doorway, and your eyes stay locked on your roommate. 

Choso was only wearing sweatpants. You can tell that he was fresh out of a shower. His hair is left down this morning, and you can’t help but think that it looks even better that way, especially with the dark strands of his bangs still falling in front of his face. Then his upper body. Holy shit, his upper body. You knew Choso worked out often, sometimes with Satoru Gojo, but not once have you seen the results of his efforts in the gym this clearly. The muscles in his arms flex as he mixes something in a bowl, and your breath hitches slightly. Your gaze slowly drifts lower, taking in his toned chest, his abs, then settling on where his sweatpants hung loosely on his waist. Fuck.

You finally shake yourself out of it, then tear your eyes away from his body, deciding to look at the table instead. You clear your throat, and the sound of it gets his attention. “Morning,” he greets casually, facing you with his usual small smile. “Sorry if Yuuji and his friend woke you up. Megumi decided to stay the night at the last minute.” 

You smile in return, then shake your head. “Oh, that’s fine.” You walk close to the stove where he’s standing. “I don’t mind Megumi. He’s actually way quieter than the rest of Yuuji’s friends. What are you making in that bowl?” 

“Hm? Oh, this is some icing to go on top of the cinnamon rolls.” He grabs a clean spoon from a drawer, then dips it into the bowl. “I think it needs a bit more vanilla, but I’m not too sure. Could you also try it?” 

You nod, then reach to grab the spoon from him, but because your grip on it wasn’t secure, it nearly slips from your hand, resulting in some of the icing getting on Choso’s finger. You both laugh it off, then you sample the icing. 

As you’re tasting it, you see Choso checking on the bacon sizzling in a skillet. Then, he lifts his hand to his mouth that you’ve definitely stared at many times before. A split second before his lips close around his finger with the icing on it, you catch his tongue dart out to lick the icing. Then, he sucks it clean, releasing it with a light smacking sound. You nearly stop breathing. It’s so simple, so innocent, but it’s so damn–

“What do you think?” He asks as he heads over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“...Huh?” 

He looks at you, then points to the spoon in your hand. “The icing. What do you think?” 

Oh. That. 

Heat rises to your face, and you mask your sudden nervousness quickly. “You’re right. Just a touch more vanilla. I think a teaspoon will be perfect.” 

“Okay, thanks. I remember making it before, and…” Choso continues talking about the icing, but your brain tunes it out when you stare at him again. He was so attractive that it wasn’t fair. You’re certain that you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. You promised yourself on the day you moved in that you wouldn’t fall for him. He worked a lot, and when he wasn’t working, he was a caring older brother to Yuuji. You assumed that he barely had time for anything else.

“Hey.” 

His low voice snaps you back to reality, and embarrassment creeps into your gut. “What was that? I’m sorry for being spaced out. I barely got any sleep last night,” you lie. 

You think he sees right through it, because he’s stepping closer to where you’re leaning against the counter. He places his hands on either side of the countertop, trapping you in between his arms—directly in front of him and nowhere to go. Your heart begins to race as he leans closer to you, the faint, fresh scent of his body wash filling your nose. The corner of his mouth slightly lifts, and the look in his dark eyes gives it away. 

He’s amused. 

“I asked if you could grab a bowl from the cabinet behind you so I could put the eggs in it,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a soft exhale. “No problem.” You turn around carefully, then lift your arm to open the cabinet, trying to pretend that you don’t literally feel him behind you. You grab a medium-sized bowl. “This one okay?” 

There’s silence, then you feel Choso’s gentle touch. His large hand holds your waist, and his other arm reaches up towards the shelf you took the bowl from, grabbing another one that was a bit larger. 

“I was thinking that this one would be better,” he whispers into your ear. 

You put the other bowl back before your slippery palm lets it fall, and Choso takes a step back and flashes a smile at you. “Nearly done with the food. Could you let Yuuji and Megumi know?” 

You do your best to hide how flustered you are, and nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab them. I’ll be back.” 

As you turn to leave the kitchen, you hear his quiet, amused chuckle, eventually drowned out by the sound of him putting some used dishes into the sink. 

Oh, he was definitely toying with you. 

-------

a/n: so do y'all know that one choso fanart of him wearing only sweatpants and making breakfast? yeahhhhhhhhhh

also ik we mostly hc him as being shy (and i love it) but there's something about him being the one doing the teasing.

[sarastial]

shower thoughts

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ellie williams x reader

summary: a lazy shower after a slow morning with ellie leads to contemplation of your continuously budding relationship.

(implied homophobia from parents; established lovers)

a/n: not sure how i feel about this one lol ,, i might have to release something else soon to make up for how short it is

──────────────────────

Your hair sticks to the back of your neck and back in wet clumps. The light touch of Ellie’s lips to your skin is soothing as she kisses your shoulder, then the space between your shoulder blades, her mouth just barely grazing your skin.

It was a slow, quiet Saturday. Both of you had woken up in the early hours of the afternoon, and, after a couple more hours of burrowing under the covers like mice, decided to wash off your grogginess in the shower. It was nice, sleeping over at Ellie’s. Sure, her bedroom was always a mess, with comics strewn around the carpet and charcoal somehow smeared across her walls, but that gave it character. It was all so Ellie.

“D’you think we’d still be here even if I didn’t slip you my number at that coffee shop?” you murmur suddenly, barely audible over the sound of the showerhead.

You were feeling thoughtful as it neared half a year together as a couple. It was strange to think back on how you two had met now that you had come so far. After seeing Ellie, a then stranger, a couple of times at your favorite little coffee shop in the city, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and approach her after some hyping-up from a friend. That was back in March of last year. It was December now, and the two of you had been going steady since that summer after your first introduction.

Ellie kisses at your nape silently for a moment. You can tell that she’s pondering your question even if you can’t see her face with her standing behind you.

“Why’re we talking about this?” she asks softly, though not accusatorially. Her fingers come up from your waist to play with the stands of hair at the back of your neck, pushing the hair away from the damp skin and gingerly wrapping the strands around her fingers.

You don’t reply for a long time. You just relish in the feel of your girlfriend standing behind you in that tiny old shower, in the feel of the hot water pouring down against your front from the shower head, burning your skin deliciously.

“I almost didn’t do it,” you finally admit, letting your eyes close and dipping your face slightly so that the scalding water poured over it.

That was the truth. You almost didn’t approach Ellie that day. There were a couple hundred worries plaguing your mind as you had sat at your little table in the far corner of that coffee shop, squeezing your paper cup tight and hashing out the details of how exactly you were going to go about it. At the forefront of your thoughts were your parents and what they would think about their daughter asking out a girl.

That was a worry you had poured over quite a bit last year before you and Ellie first started talking, before she had sat down with you on your worn down couch in your own apartment that one night after you had nervously confided to her and gently told you, “Y’know you’re not obligated to tell anyone anything, right?”

Ellie knows about your struggle with your sexuality, with accepting yourself and with not worrying so much about others accepting you. With your parents and how hard it’s been not being able to be honest with them. The two of you had talked about it before, of course, lots and lots of times.

“I was really scared,” you admit, using your girlfriend’s silence as a cue to continue, “of what it would mean if I approached a girl. Of what it would mean if I approached you.”

“But you did it,” Ellie murmurs into your skin, lifting her face from your nape, “You approached me in the end.”

You nod, mostly to yourself, silent for a moment. “I did.”

Ellie kisses your skin again, nimble fingers rubbing at your naked sides as the water streams over the two of you. You swear to yourself that this is as close to serendipity as you’ve ever been — under the hot stream of the shower-head with your girlfriend, hidden away in her tiny apartment away from the rest of the world. One day, you’ll have the strength to seek out more — holding hands with her outside in front of strangers, kissing her under the rain in the city center, showing her off to your parents — but, for now, you were content.

You turn in Ellie’s arms to face her and study her face carefully, taking in every single detail of it and committing it to your memory — the freckles dotting her rosy cheeks, the scar on her right eyebrow, the slight part of her pretty lips.

“You’re so pretty,” you exhale, eyes darting without purpose as Ellie’s hands move up to brush wet clumps of hair from your cheeks, “I really like you, Ellie.”

Her thumbs rest on your cheekbones, rubbing absentmindedly at the warm skin of your face. “You’re such a dork.”

Ellie’s lashes flutter though, in that way they always do whenever she’s flustered or surprised, even if she’s trained herself to maintain a mellow expression. She swallows, throat bobbing ever so slightly. You almost miss it.

She reaches for the loofah, almost as a distraction, lathering it up in the lemon shortcake scented body wash you had brought over one night because you didn’t like smelling like pine trees. Her hand moves gingerly against your neck, loofah squeezed tight in her grip, then down your bare front. It’s strangely intimate, and you let her lather you up without saying anything, gaze trained to her face. She’s looking down at her hand as she works, but her gaze flickers upwards to meet yours after a while.

“I’m glad you approached me that day.”

Her voice is soft, almost inaudible, and you can tell that her words are genuine. They melt you, and you find yourself leaning into a subtle, barely there kiss. When you draw back, Ellie’s lashes flutter again.

“I’m glad too.”

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! #2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi x mom!reader, toji x reader, angst, family issues/trauma, absent father, implications of suicidal thoughts, talks of depression, toji is an assassin/in a gang, implications of murder, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It was a chilly Saturday morning. The birds chirped as snow fell from the sky, laying a thick blanket across the trees and ground. Megumi was still asleep while you cooked breakfast for him like you always did. His favorite being eggs, hash browns and bacon. Two weeks ago you could’ve sworn your relationship with your son was ruined, came crashing down when he found out about his father. Toji Fushiguro. Though, it only seems like the situation only brought you closer than ever. He kept asking you about him, what he was really like, how he talked, what he used to wear, did he play any sports. He asked everything. And you told him everything.

You didn’t forget one detail about Toji. From the fifteen years that he’s been gone, you still remember every detail on his face like it was just yesterday. You remember the exact clothes he was wearing the night he left and you remember the look in his eyes when he walked out the door while you pleaded for him not to go. Fifteen years and it still breaks your heart to remember. Sometimes you wished you forgotten about him. Every since then you haven’t been with anyone else. You’ve tried and failed. Went on dates, went out to clubs and bars, whatever it was, but no one was him. No one was your Toji.

Some of your high school friends live happy lives, married, nice house and car with a big family and of course the family pet. But you never got your fairytale ending. You didn’t get the easy way like everyone else. It was just you and your son the entire time and whatever hardships you endured, it was for him. After Toji left you fell into a depression. You never left the house unless it was to get groceries or other essentials, but otherwise you were cooped up. It was just you and your son. Crying yourself to sleep every night seemed like the only option you had at that time. Wasting hours trying to call Toji only for it to go straight to voicemail. You prayed he come back for you two. But he didn’t. Years and years went by and you lost hope. You believed he was dead and maybe he was.

You loved Megumi so much. Everything you did was for him, every battle fought. He was the reason you kept going. He couldn’t grow up without a mother and a father. He doesn’t know that he’s saved your life.

“Mom?” You hear your sons groggy voice as he walks into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder and laugh at the way he stands there, his hair messy and one of his eyes barely open.

“Morning, Megs. I’m just making you breakfast.” You smile. He hums in response, turning back around and dragging his feet into the bathroom. Even down to the mannerisms he acts exactly like him. You shake your head with a laugh, turning the stove off and grabbing his plate to toss the scrambled eggs on top. “Megs, your food is on the table when you’re done!” You shout. You run over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and pouring him a glass when the doorbell rings. “Hold on!”

Putting the juice away, you walk over to the door with the glass in hand. “Who is it?” You ask.

“It’s me.” A voice speaks. It almost sounds recognizable, but not. Your brows furrow while undoing the locks and when you open the door, the frigid air cuts through the warmth of your house and surrounds you.

“You must have the wrong—” As you look up, your eyes widen and the glass drops from your hair, shattering against the wooden floor. Your mouth opens to say something but not a word comes out. It was like you were stuck, frozen. Tears filled your eyes as you took in the man who was standing in front of you. “Toji…?” You utter, bringing a shaky hand up to your mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grew slightly taller, his hair shorter and you can see the slight wrinkles in his face. He was a lot more muscular too, but nonetheless he still looked like him.

“Oh my god!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Toji!” You sobbed. Being in his embrace felt so natural despite how long it’s been. He hugged you back, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed in your scent.

“Mom?! What was that?!” Megumi came rushing out the bathroom running towards where he heard the glass break. Instead, he halted in his steps when he saw the familiar face he only recently learned from photos. “Dad?”

Toji opened his eyes, his expression dropping when he saw Megumi standing there in front of him. You removed yourself from his arms, turning to see your son standing there with tears in his eyes. “Megs, it’s your dad.” You smiled, wiping your tears.

And Toji couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he was looking at a younger version of himself. But he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He knows it’s been fifteen years, but he was still expecting to see his two year old son walking towards him. Toji stepped into the house, slowly walking towards Megumi, hesitating to say or do anything until Megumi jumped into arms. “Dad!” He cried.

Toji clung to his son, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered against his hair. “Please forgive me.” He breathed. You stood there with pursed lips watching the two of them reunited, but hearing Toji’s apologies broke your heart. “I never wanted to leave you. You understand me?” Toji pulled Megumi away so that he was looking at him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ive missed you too.” Megumi nodded his head wiping his tears. “Mom told me. She told me everything. I don’t blame you, dad.” He sniffled, shaking his head. Toji looked towards you his eyes softening. It’s like you could see everything within him. All the regret, the sadness, the anger he’s been holding within him for all this time.

He stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “You still look so beautiful.” He smiled. “I never once stopped thinking about you.” He said, holding back tears. “You and Megs were always with me. I’m sorry for leaving you, baby.” He hugged you.

It was hard not to cry. You couldn’t hold in your emotions. Not anymore. Everything that you’ve been holding back was finally letting out. You missed him. You missed seeing him with Megumi. You missed his voice, his scent, his everything. “It was so hard, Toji.” You cried. “I needed you. We needed you.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “Be angry with me, do whatever you want to me. I’m just happy to have you both back.”

You could never hate him. That was never a thought in your head. You could never hate the man you love. All you could do was understand him and his pain. He was hurting just as much as you. He left to protect you and your son. “I thought you were dead.” Your voice broke through your sobs. “I thought…”

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He kissed you again. “Come here, little man.” Toji opened his arm, allowing Megumi to hug him.

Toji thought he’d never live to see this day. He began losing hope, drowning in his fears and bad choices. When he left, he remembered your cries, carrying that hurt in his heart for years. He only dug himself into a deeper hole trying to get out of it. Trying to protect you and Megs, he did unspeakable things, shit that left him traumatized. The amount of blood on his hands was staggering. But it was all just to have his family back.

That life was well behind him now. It’s been behind him for months. All this he’s been looking for you, jumping through hoops to even get a glimpse of you and Megumi. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you moved on, if you found someone else and replaced him, deciding to leave this hellish place. But you stayed. Despite everything, you stayed.

“You’ve gotten so damn big.” Toji eyes scanned over Megumi. “About as tall as me.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well, I do look exactly like you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’ve been hearing it my whole life. It’s finally nice to see the original.”

“The original, huh? I ain’t that damn old,” he scoffed.

Seeing them already get along and bicker with each other like it came naturally gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You’ve never seen Megumi’s eyes so full of life, like he found his other half. And in a sense, he did. You did as well. All of you did.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair. “A lot.”

“I know. But can you promise me one thing?” Megumi asked.

“Of course.” Toji was quick to answer.

“Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t care what it is. Promise me you’ll never leave me, dad.” Megumi nervously began biting the skin off of his bottom lip.

Toji stared at his son. “I promise.”

a/n: a lot of you wanted a part 2 so I made one. I hope it lived up to the expectations tbh cause I wasn’t really sure what y’all wanted to me to write

[selineram3421]

*sips chocolate milk*

My Baby

Part 1

Prologue Alastor X Fem Reader Warnings ⚠ ⚠ reader is a mother, gn child is around 5-6 years old, protective/soft Alastor, food mention-breakfast food, cussing, oop- 👀. ⚠

Your little one was still sleepy but curious, looking at everything around them.

Currently, you both were in the hotel room.

You woke up early and found your hotel key on the dresser, not entirely remembering if Alastor left it there before he left the room or not.

But instead of worrying over it, you pocketed the key after getting ready for the day. Then you opened the door to a cat demon, who told you that your stuff had arrived.

It didn't take long for you to unpack and set up things as you liked.

"Mama, where are we?", your baby asked.

"We're at a fancy hotel!", you smiled, folding some of the clothes and placing them in the dresser. "We'll go downstairs after you get dressed. Do you want to pick what you wear today?"

They nodded and yawned, crawling out of the blankets and sliding off the bed carefully until their little feet reached the floor.

Finishing up, you closed the drawer and opened the bottom one. Their clothes were all neatly folded and organized, colors starting at warm shades to cool colors.

"Mama! You made a rainbow!", they gasped.

You laughed. "Yes honey. I like when clothes make rainbows.", you ruffled their hair with your hand. "Now, pick out what you want to wear. Warm or cold colors?", you asked.

"Warm!", they decided.

"Ok.", you kneeled down and pointed at the shirts. "Red is hot, orange is toasty, and yellow is warm. Pink is a soft warm."

"Hm.. I wanna be soft warm, but I also wanna be super hot! Like fire!", they lifted their arms. "Like whoosh!"

"Well, it's a good thing we also have accessories.", you said.

"Access-ories?", they repeated as best as they could.

You nodded and gestured to the few that you were wearing.

"See how Mama has these?", you asked and earned a nod. "I have some colors to match my clothes sometimes, or they are different colors that compliment my clothes."

"Oh! Ok.", they said and pointed at a coral colored shirt. "Can I wear that one?"

"Yes baby.", you took the shirt out and held it. "Do you want pants or shorts?"

"Shorts! The-the pumpkin ones!", they said.

"Ok. But if it looks too silly, I'll get another pair, ok?"

They nodded.

It didn't take long for you to get them ready and you carried them downstairs.

.

Alastor was..well he wasn't sure what to call what he was feeling.

He made breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, coffee, hash browns, grits, and sausages. He even cut up some fruit and laid everything out on the dining table.

Nifty had run in, swiping some coffee and stuffing some food in her mouth before running out. Possibly to go kill some bugs.

Then Angel walked in, surprisingly awake this early in the morning.

"Oh~ Are we gonna celebrate somethin'? Or did you finally get laid?", the spider demon laughed and sat down, getting a plate and serving himself.

Before Angel could say something else, the fluffy demon took a bite of the food and melted in his chair, and it seemed like he decided the food was too good to waste time to talk.

"Wow. Who died?", Vaggie walked into the dining room, the Princess following behind not a second later.

"No one of importance!", Alastor grinned.

"This looks so nice!", Charlie said and pulled a chair.

Almost everyone was in the dining room and that's when he noticed her standing in the doorway.

"Mama! Look! Look! Pancakes!", her child said excitedly and pointed at the food.

"I see them. They look really fluffy.", she smiled and took a step into the dining room. "Hello?"

"Good morning dear!", Alastor pulled out a chair for her to sit and summoned a cushion in his hands. "I hope your first night was pleasant?", he pulled out another and placed the cushion on it.

"It was comfortable, thank you.", she nodded and walked over, sitting her little one on the chair with the cushion.

"Who the fu-?"

"Ahem!", the deer demon glared at Angel, glancing at the child to give him a message.

"Smiles, it's Hell! I'm pretty sure that kid has heard more fucking curse words out there than they will in here.", the spider huffed. "Also, who's the Mommy?"

The Radio Demon was annoyed, but focused his attention on how she cut up the pancakes for her child.

"She's a new guest!", Charlie said happily. "Both of them came in last night."

As the others talked, he took a seat at the end of the table, which was close to the newest hotel resident. Did he do that on purpose? Yes, but he didn't linger on the thought for too long and summoned his cup of coffee to take a sip.

"Careful honey, you need to eat slower.", she fussed over her little demon.

"But it's good! It's better than Dad's!", the little one responded.

A record scratch from Alastor.

"Still-", she tried to say.

"Try it Mama!", the child held up their fork, syrup dripping down.

She sighed, as if knowing she couldn't win and ate the pancake off the fork.

"Holy shit-", she covered her mouth and chewed.

"See! Even the Momma is cussing!", Angel shouted out.

But he ignored the arachnid. That buzz came back and he felt proud at the fact that she enjoyed the food he made.

Placing his coffee cup down, he stood and served a plate. Then placed it down on the table, in front of her.

"Here darling, you must eat as well.", he smiled a little softer. "Would you like coffee?", he asked.

"Oh, thank you Alastor. I'll get my drink soon, you don't have to-", she looked up at him from her seat.

"Nonsense! Enjoy your food and I'm sure the little one would also like a drink?", he tilted his head slightly to look at the child.

"Can I have juice?", they asked.

"Of course.", he grabbed a cup and placed it down in front of them. "But what kind of juice?"

"Apple!", the little one smiled.

When they finished, he watched as she cleaned her child's face with a napkin.

Charlie walked over with a friendly smile. "So, I know we didn't get to do anything yesterday but I was wondering if you'd like to join an activity or something else?"

"Oh, sure. What exactly do I have to do to stay in the hotel?", she asked.

"I'll fill you in my dear!", Alastor stepped in and held his hand out. "Of course, there's something I must discuss with you in private. I hope you don't mind?"

"Is it serious or..?", she trailed off.

"Well, it has to do with your personal belongings. But it is something a bit concerning."

She stood and picked up her child, nodding at him. He lead her out of the dining room.

"Charlie, I hope you don't mind but I will go over the basics.", he said over his shoulder.

"Shit, he's down bad.", Angel said with a laugh.

"I'll check in with you later!", the Princess said to the new guest.

Ignoring the spider's comment, he started to walk down the hallway.

"What was concerning about my things?", she asked, and walking next to him.

"Ah, yes.", his smile strained a bit. "When I went to retrieve your things, I found a demon in your apartment with what I'm assuming was your..undergarments."

She made a face of fear and disgust.

"I got rid of them and the fabric they were holding but I would advise to get some new ones.", he finished.

"Ok.. um. Thank you for letting me know.", she cleared her throat, shifting her child in her hold. "What are the activities that the Princess mentioned?"

"Active-ity? Like games?", the child asked.

"The usual activities are for bonding. Some times there are games, trust exercises, and-", he began listing off.

As she talked with him, he wondered if she knew who he was and if she did, why did she not run at the sight of him?

*slams fic onto table and runs off* Cookies!

~Seline, the person.

Part 2 Taglist@ @boogiemansbitch @+? @+more in the comments+

ML II Alastor 🎙️ | MB 🚼

HH🗝️

[biteyoubiteme]

thicc thigh obsessed gyu 😵‍💫 he loves how squishy and plush they are, touches them all the time, rests his head, inner thigh kisses and wearing pretty thigh highs and stockings has him hard and drooling

beomgyu x thighs

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! chubby reader implied, thigh fucking, marking, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.6k

an: okay I want to say I love that you sent me this and it was stuck in my head forever and im just now answering it but omfg- gyu IS A THIGH LOVER I'll take it to the grave/ die on that hill bc YES. and specifically the gyu I wrote in bubblegum flavored- so if you see beomiebear mentioned here thats why bc it’s so him coded pls I love it thank you for this. [m.list]

He would so buy you thigh highs, little sets of garter belts that clip to the top of them. He loves the marks it leaves on your thighs if you’ve been lying down with them on. Likes to snap the bands to make you jump. He loves when you’re in a skirt, and loves it even more when you wear tights, he ruins every pair you’ve ever had and loves to rip them just enough to suck hickeys on your inner thigh. Will take the time to suck them Into the shape of a heart, spending as much time between your legs as possible. Gets you fishnets a size too small, still stretchy enough to feel comfortable but tight enough to let your skin dimple, the marks left after you've taken them off turning him on just as much. 

He loves it when he lays on your plush thighs and you play with his hair. Loves it more when you wear thighs highs when he does it, finger tucked under the elastic, running back and forth. Loves when you sit and it makes a little roll right where the end is, peppers kisses all along the seam. Will use his teeth to pull them down enough to kiss the indents on your skin. 

Insatiable when you casually walk in wearing anything that highlights your thighs. But it’s always the first thing he notices anyway. You could be spending dinner with all your friends and he’s got his hand shoved between your thighs under the table, not necessarily touching you but just resting his hand between your legs for the comfort. 

Gets you specific stockings to wear during sex, the lace lining on top the perfect spot for him to kiss along. The sheer gauzy fabric is just the right texture for him to run his teeth over while he looks up at you from his knees. dons so many kisses to your lower half you have to remind him your mouth exists, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “beomie if you’re good I’ll let you fuck them,” 

and he’s putty in your hands, his weakness so easily exploited when it came to you. Because he loved to push his cock between your plushy thighs. His hands holding your squishy flesh hard enough to leave red hand prints all over. 

Laying you back against the mattress and lifting your legs up, pushed together and slathered with lube, your ankles over his shoulder, arms wrapped around your knees as he pushes his cock in and out between your thighs. 

He’s a whiny mess kissing at your legs, begging for release as you squeeze your legs together for him. You watch the way the tip of cock pokes through the seam of your legs with every thrust. His hair in his eyes as he loses himself, “Oh god- you feel so perfect-“ his fingers digging in harder as he orgasm gets closer, and watching the way you look laid out before him, your body reverberating with every hash slap of him against you. 

He always cums so much when fucking your thighs, the hot streams pulsing out and coating your stomach. cock jerking as he gives lazy thrusts, his whimpers so sweet to your ears as you praise him, “You came so good for me beomiebear, if you clean me up I’ll let you go another round,” and he will comply licking you clean and burying himself between your legs to properly devour your wetness; a reward within this request itself just before he’s hard again and ready to do it all over.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1.5 - Before

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (Standalone series - not related to any other of my stories/characters)

Hello! I know I said this would be a 2 part series but this part of chapter 2 felt like it's own section, so I've created a mini chapter to bridge the two parts and keep us fed - this is a flashback. Part 2 still to come! Thank you all for the love and engagement you've given this story, as always reblogs and comments are appreciated!

💔

Around 18 months earlier…

This was the shift from Hell.

You must’ve accidentally cursed yourself; it was the only explanation for the non-stop chaos the day had wrought. Apologies to any magical being you may have offended.

The kitchen were somehow out of both maple syrup and hash browns. Roscoe must’ve messed up the inventory order again. The customers affected by this egregious error were certainly making themselves known when you broke the news, while Roscoe sheepishly hid back at the grill. You understood their anger, what kind of diner doesn’t have hash browns or maple syrup?! Sure, you shared their pain – but throwing a spoon at your head seemed unnecessary.

The soda machine had leaked all over your arm an hour into your shift and you couldn’t shake the sticky, goopy feeling no matter how many times you had washed your hands. Your shoe broke, the sole flapping against the floor with every step. A table who had spent their entire two hours there demanding an array of elaborate substitutions and ‘softer napkins’ stiffed you on the tip, despite you bending over backwards to help them out. You found yourself counting the minutes until you could clock out, go back to your shoebox apartment, and bury yourself in bed. Not long to go.

“Hon’, sorry…” Lou called out to you, in that tone he always used when he was breaking bad news, “I know you’re swamped – but can you take care of the gentleman in the corner booth? Marcy just went on break and I gotta cover her other tables and whip that jack-off in the kitchen into shape…”

You sighed wearily, you were due to clock off soon and were closing out your section. But you took a deep breath and nodded over at him, “alright, Lou, but only cos it’s you…”

“Thank-you Hon’,” he beamed at you gratefully, disappearing into the kitchen to go yell at Roscoe.

You wandered over to the corner booth Lou had pointed to, swallowing your frustration and fatigue. There was a man sitting by himself, his face obscured by the menu he held up to read. His fingers curled over the sides of the paper, littered with gold rings and scars. One of his hands seemed to be…metal? A strange glove, perhaps? You could see from the sleeves alone that the dark suit he wore was expensive. Not to mention what appeared to be diamond encrusted cufflinks…

Huh. You at least hoped you’d get a good tip out of him.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’ll be taking care of you today,” you said sunnily as you pulled your notepad and pen from your apron. “What can I get you started with? Some coffee maybe?”

The man didn’t move. The menu remained upright. He was so still it wasn’t almost eerie. You briefly had a crazy thought that he may have died and nobody had noticed, then dismissing your silliness as quickly as it arrived. Besides, dealing with a corpse in the diner was the last thing you needed today.

A few beats passed, but he still didn’t respond. You cleared your throat and tapped your foot to alert him to your presence. Still nothing. You frowned, maybe he didn’t hear you. Maybe he had airbuds in or something.

“Sir…? Would you like to order?” you asked again, your tone a little more strained this time.

Silence. But you saw one of his fingers twitch so you knew he was still alive, at least.

You were used to rude customers, the ones who were outright hostile towards you, and the ones who treated you as if you weren’t there. This was nothing new. But the stress of your shift with the combined fuckery of everything that had gone wrong meant you were hanging on by a thread. Your usual hardiness and thick skin were weakened, and your customer service mask slipped.

“Look buddy…it’s incredibly rude to just ignore your waitress you know…” you snarkily told the hovering menu, “are you gonna order or what?”

You realised what you’d said too late, clapping your hand over your mouth as an amused chuckle came from behind the menu shield. Just as you went to apologise, the paper dropped to the table, revealing the mystery man behind it.

You blinked, a little stunned at the sight of him.

His chestnut brown hair was slicked back into a perfect bun, complimenting the light dusting of stubble on his cut-glass jawline. Pouty pink lips curled into a smirk as his large, bulky frame manoeuvred in the booth to get a better look at you. But you were most struck by his eyes, so blue and piercing that you could drown in them. Better women than you probably had.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-” you flustered.

“Don’t be,” replied the man commandingly, his voice low but soft, “you were right. That was rude of me, I’m very sorry. I was lost in my own world there for a moment. I hope you can accept my apology”.

You gawped at him, surprised at his reaction. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “Uh…yeah. Sure. Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you; it’s just been a long day…” you admitted sheepishly.

He nodded and studied you carefully, his gaze sweeping you from tip to toe. It felt exposing to be looked at like that, but you couldn’t deny the hint of a thrill it gave you too.

“Well, I’m sorry to have added to it,” he smiled at you.

And what a smile. A knee-weakening smile. All white teeth and warmth. And maybe something…darker?

“My name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes…” he extended a hand towards you to shake, his smile dangerous yet enticing, “Doll, I’d love to hear yours…”

💔

[zepskies]

hiii lovely happy wednesday 🫶🏽:) random question while i’m on my 10 :D this kind of goes hand in hand with your coffee shop headcanons if you squint, but in your opinion what coffee shop pastry would the boys (your favorite jackles characters) choose? 🤎

if that makes sense, like I think beau would really like our dulce de leche cheese danish :p or like ben might like a jalapeño cheese bagel lmao

again I loveee your insights <3 it makes work more entertaining for sure cause then i’m thinking of your responses at random times lol 💗 + I hope you’re having a wonderful week !!🫂

Happy Wednesday, friend! �� Oh yay! I love your random questions, and I love coffee shop pastries. 🥐 ☕

Dulce de leche Danish sounds amaziiiiing. 😩 And thank you!! I'm flattered that you love my insights - and that my little rambles infiltrate your brain! lolol 🥰💜 Hope you're having a great week too, hun! Mine is ok so far. I have a lot coming up tomorrow, so this is a fun distraction until then! 😂

HEADCANON: Coffee Shop Pastry Orders

Dean Winchester

*snorts* You mean the human garbage disposal?

We all know Dean's not picky about food. Though since he's drinking an espresso in his coffee order headcanon, I think he'd go for something indulgent to fill his stomach, like a cheese Danish, a couple of donuts, or if they have it, a brookie. 😂

He's very happy to show it to you and Sam when he brings it over to your table, strolling over on those bowed legs. Sam, of course, wears that half amused, half judgy look of his.

"It's a cookie mashed up with a brownie, Sam. Best of both worlds."

Beau Arlen

Beau the basic latte guy needs a basic (but delicious) coffee shop confection to go with it, so I'm going to say he's into coffee cake.

He likes them crumblies on top and a nice, warm cinnamon swirl in his cake. 👌🏽

Just be warned. He's probably going to have you order him another slice of cake while he's still working on the first one.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Like Dean, this guy's not all that picky about food post-captivity. Of course he likes good food, but he's also highly indulgent in most respects.

"I like what I fucking like," as he often tells you with a smirk. That goes for food, drugs, and frisky women (of almost all ages).

That being said, since we paired him with a cold brew, he'll probably want something classic, like himself: a glazed donut or a slice of marble pound cake with that thin strip of icing on top.

However, I think he could be persuaded (by you) to order something a little adventurous. He'd be game enough to try a jalapeño cheese bagel, with hash browns, and that donut and/or slice of pound cake on the side...

And he'll probably tell them to pack him up an extra bagel for the road. 😂 🥯

Russell Shaw

Russell's another one who's highly self-indulgent lol. He ain't picky about food, that's for sure. He'll eat junk food just as easily as a five-course meal from a Michelin star restaurant.

But since he got paired with a flat white, I think he'd get the biggest cinnamon roll he can find. He'd ask if they could warm it up for him, get that icing all warm and running down the sides, sticky and sweet.

And he looks at you mischievously while he licks his fingers afterward. ✌🏼

(He's only satisfied when he makes you blush.)

AN: Do you agree with these? Got other pastry orders for these guys? 💜

I love working on these HCs every time, no matter how simple or complex the prompt is. 😂

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Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

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@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[shadesofhogwarts]

(3) Poly!marauders x reader crashing out in a diner after a night out

You end up at a 24-hour diner that looks like it should’ve been condemned in the 80s. The sign’s flickering, the inside smells like burnt coffee and teenage regret, and the only other customer is a man arguing with a jukebox that isn’t even plugged in.

Naturally, you love it.

You’re crammed in a booth that was definitely meant for two people. Maybe three if they liked each other. Four is pushing it, but no one seems to care.

You’re sandwiched between James and Remus, one of Sirius’ legs wedged dangerously between yours under the table like he forgot how to sit normal. Your back is pressed to James' chest, and Remus has you half wrapped in his cardigan even though you’re still sweating from the party. Sirius is directly across from you, long fingers tapping the rim of a utensil mug like he’s waiting for someone to dare him into chaos.

You’re all a little too warm from dancing, a little too giddy from cheap drinks, a little too fond of each other to notice the grease-stained menus or flickering lights overhead.

It’s the kind of tired that feels good. Safe.

“So,” James says around a wide yawn, “what have we learned tonight?”

“That you’re a menace when you flirt,” you mumble into his shoulder. “And that social experiments don’t involve whispering in someone’s ear for three songs straight.”

James grins, smug. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Sirius groans dramatically, knocking his head back. “I told you it was going to backfire. I said, and I quote, ‘she’s gonna fall in love with you all over again, and then cry about it in the bathroom.’'

You make a face. “I did not cry.”

Remus slides a menu toward you. “Pick something greasy. You’ll thank me later.”

“I already thank you for everything,” you mumble, drunk and soft and stupidly in love.

You don’t mean to say it like that, but no one calls it out. Sirius just steals your menu and says, “We’ll get a little bit of everything. Can’t risk someone getting jealous over hash browns.”

Your milkshake arrives before the food– vanilla, with a swirl of strawberry and two maraschino cherries. There are four straws in it.

You blink. “Really?”

James shrugs. “We share everything.”

You feel that in your spine.

Sirius wipes a streak of whipped cream off your lip with his thumb and pops it into his mouth like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You should’ve seen yourself on my shoulders. Arms up like you were Queen of the Lawn.”

You giggle. “I couldn’t find my shoes.”

“I know,” he says, eyes crinkling. “I’ve got grass stains on my shirt and your sandal in my pocket.”

“You kept it?” you laugh.

He shrugs. “Couldn’t let your glass slipper get away, could I?”

You’re all laughing too hard to breathe when the food comes– plates on plates of stuff you’ll regret in five hours. You eat curled into each other, stealing bites, dropping crumbs on laps, trading pancakes for toast and then back again.

And somewhere in the middle of it– while James is wiping syrup off Remus' sleeve with his thumb, and Sirius is chewing your straw for absolutely no reason, and Remus is offering you his pickles because “you always steal them anyway”– you feel it.

That thing.

The warmth under the laughter. The buzz under your skin. That terrifying, beautiful truth that you don’t want to sleep this off and forget it all in the morning.

You want this. Whatever this is.

Sirius catches your eye and smirks, like he knows what you're thinking. He always does.

"You've got that look again," he says, swirling the ice in his glass. "The one where you're about to overthink everything."

"Do not," you grumble, cheeks hot.

"You do," James agrees, pecking the top of your head. "But it's cute. All the best things start with a little panic."

Remus leans in, nose brushing your jaw. “Just let it happen, sweetheart.”

And so you do.

You finish your fries and steal the last bite of Sirius’ toast and let James feed you whipped cream off his fork just to see him blush about it after. You watch Remus doodle in the corner of a napkin and try not to cry when he writes your name with a tiny heart.

You laugh until your stomach aches and your throat hurts and your voice is hoarse.

And when you stumble out into the night, arms wrapped around each other, stomachs full and hearts lighter– it still doesn’t feel like enough.

But it’s a start.

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Tug-of-War

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader Word Count: 7346 Summary: As tensions with a rival MC escalate, old feelings relent, complicating your fight to maintain professional boundaries. Torn between duty and desire, a dangerous conspiracy is uncovered, all while navigating the risks of your rekindled connection to Jax. Warnings: 18+ only please! (eventual smut) lots of innuendo, cursing, brief mentions of implied violence, angst, and feels. A/N: FINALLY! Part 4 is here. This took me waaaaay longer to finish than I ever anticipated, so a HUGE thank you to everyone still invested in Jax and Pepper's story. As always, feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated - likes, comments, and reblogs fuel me. Beta'd by myself, all mistakes are my own. Without further ado...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Days had passed since your ride with Jax and the almost-kiss—the memory replayed endlessly, torturous and consuming every crevice of your mind. The roughness of his fingers grazing your cheek, the piercing intensity of his eyes that seemed to strip away every barrier you had, and the warmth of his breath—teasing and familiar, carrying a blend of nicotine and mint that was undeniably him. He leaned in so close that the logical part of your brain seemed to disappear. You’d almost let it happen, almost let him claim the space between you. And the truth? You wanted to. 

So bad. 

It was the way he drew you in, no matter how hard you tried to resist, because Jax had always been like that—dangerously magnetic, a force you could never escape. You knew, without a single doubt, that once you crossed that line, there’d be no going back to the safe distance you’d convinced yourself you could maintain.

Since you came back to Charming, Jax had been careful, almost restrained—testing your boundaries. But now, there was no mistaking his intent. His touches lingered, his words carried too much weight, and his eyes promised everything you’d ever wanted together. 

He wasn’t holding back anymore and the feelings he stirred were overwhelming—a mix of longing, frustration and, yet, something dangerous and powerful. It was never just physical with Jax, he had a way of getting under your skin, making you feel seen in a way that was as thrilling as it was unsettling. Your pulse quickened, thoughts tumbling over one another, all drowned out by the agonizing truth: being close to him felt effortless, like slipping into a perfectly worn, familiar T-shirt that fit just right.

You told yourself you needed space, that putting distance between you two was the only way to clear your head. After hashing out strategies with Liz over the new evidence—you decided heading back to your office and home felt like the best option. 

You had an early motion hearing Thursday, and after that, you’d head out, giving yourself a long weekend to regroup with your team. A few consecutive days away from Charming would help you regain perspective, give you the distance you needed to pull your thoughts from the relentless tug of him. 

It made sense. 

But even as you planned your escape, the decision felt heavier than it should have, like you were leaving behind way more than just a case.

You sighed deeply as you parked in the TM lot, the neatly lined bikes confirming everyone was already inside. Jax’s earlier text had been brief—Juice had uncovered something about the rival MC, and whatever it was, felt big. 

Bracing yourself, you stepped inside the clubhouse, the all too familiar mix of cigarettes and stale beer, greeting you like an old habit you couldn’t break. Tension simmered as you walked in, the low hum of conversation buzzed from the Chapel, where the brothers were scattered, their faces grim and tight with unspoken worry.

Jax stood at the head of the table as he surveyed the room with the same intensity as always. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh cut slicing through his brow, the faint shadow of a bruise spreading around his eye. Concern flashed across your face before you could stop it, but when your eyes met, he gave you a slight nod. His expression stayed hard, and the moment passed with nothing more than a look exchanged between you.

Still, you didn’t miss the subtle shift in his stance as you walked in, the way his shoulders straightened just enough to betray his awareness of you. It wasn’t intentional, but it was undeniable—a quiet reaction only you seemed to notice. 

Jax was never unaware of you.

"Alright," he spoke, his voice cutting through the room and drawing everyone’s attention as the men settled into their respective seats, while you stood to the side, your eyes never leaving Jax. "We’ve been digging into the Warlords, and they’re in this deeper than we thought." His gaze flicked toward you briefly before continuing. "Had a close call with their guys on the highway last night. Almost turned into a showdown, but we pulled back."

The Warlords had once been allies of the Sons, but everything changed the day Clay killed their president during a botched gun deal and then covered it up. Damon Reyes had taken over, severing ties with SAMCRO and escalating the tension into years of animosity.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the cut again, a dozen questions swirling in your mind already. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“We think they’re the ones framing me for murder,” Jax declared, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on yours.

Your mind spun, connecting the dots from everything you and your defense team had uncovered. The anonymous payments, the conveniently surfaced witness, the doctored phone records—it all pointed back to the Warlords. They were manipulating evidence from afar, keeping their hands clean while setting Jax up. 

“This might be the link we’ve been missing,” you realized, a mix of anger and relief washing over you.

“If I go down for this, Reyes thinks it’ll cripple the club. He’s been plotting ever since Clay killed Mendoza.” Jax affirmed, his tone sharp.

His words lingered in the air, Reyes’ long-standing vendetta casting a shadow over the room. The Sons had been fighting to stay one step ahead for years, but now the stakes had never been higher.

The room buzzed with unease; the brothers’ faces reflected the seriousness of the situation. Chibs piped in. “Aye, and it’s not just Reyes, Jacky Boy. That bastard’s got cops in his back pocket too.”

Your stomach knotted, and your brow furrowed slightly as you turned to Chibs. “Anything solid tying Reyes to any specific cops?” Your mind remembering Connelly. 

Chibs shook his head. “Nothin’ yet, lass. We’ve got whispers and cash movin’ around, but not the kind of evidence that’ll hold up in court.”

Your thoughts reeled as the gravity of the situation sunk in. “If we can make that connection, we could file a motion to dismiss,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Taking a steadying breath, you stepped forward, your tone growing stronger as you addressed the club. “We have to be smarter than him. Reyes isn’t just after you, Jax—he’s coming for everything.”

The room grew silent, tension settling over everyone as the full weight of the threat sank in. This wasn’t just about clearing Jax’s name; it was about survival. The Sons were in deeper than ever, fighting to keep the club from being torn apart by the Warlords. 

As you stood there, you began to grasp the true depth of your loyalty. This wasn’t just a connection to your father’s club; it ran through your veins, binding you to a legacy you never wanted, but couldn’t deny. 

And your feelings for Jax—still growing, still impossible to suppress—made the idea of walking away unthinkable. No matter how tangled and complicated everything had become, the thought of leaving him—or the club—was something you couldn’t do now.

The meeting wrapped up soon after, and you barely had a second before you were on the phone with your office, more determined than ever. “—yeah, let’s have the investigator follow up on those two key pieces ASAP,” you instructed, glancing up as Jax approached. “And have them on my desk for Thursday. I should be back in town in the afternoon. Thanks Liz.” 

Jax’s face tightened as he caught that last part. His brows drew together, eyes narrowing with a flash of suspicion as he tilted his head. Before you could react, he reached out, his grip on your arm firm and lingering. “Come with me for a minute,” he urged, his voice insistent. 

Your heart pounded in your ears as he guided you down the long hallway, knowing exactly where he was leading you—the same place you’d avoided since being back, because the last time you’d been there, everything imploded.

He opened the door, stepping inside first, and you lingered at the threshold, uncertainty prickling at your skin. The room looked just as it always had—dimly lit, the smell of dust mingling with faint traces of his cologne. Your eyes landed on the bed, and a familiar ache surfaced, as if no time had passed. The pain, the shock, it all swept over you again. 

But with it, the good memories came too—the nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, laughter spilling into the darkness, and the quiet moments dreaming of a future that never came to be. 

“I didn’t think you’d ever step foot in here again.” Jax’s voice cut through the silence, rough and low. His words drawing your attention to him. 

You swallowed, folding your arms across your chest as if that could shield you from the past. “Neither did I.”

A flicker of regret shifted in his eyes before his jaw set hard. “So… you’re leaving, huh?”

You didn’t answer, letting the silence stretch as you took a step into the room. He was reading you, you could feel it, but you didn’t owe him an explanation. 

He took a step closer, his gaze hardening. “If it’s because of the other night—I’m not going to apologize.”

Frustration flared within you, a sharp scoff escaping your lips before you could stop it. Typical Jax—always so sure of himself, so unwilling to back down. His confidence grated on you, but it also pulled at a part of you that didn’t want him to apologize, even though he should. As his words echoed in the room, your mind betrayed you, drifting back to that moment.

How alive you’d felt during the ride, how safe yet electrified you were by his presence. It left you raw, exposed, teetering on the edge of something you weren’t sure you could control. You felt your resolve waver, torn between his stubborn cockiness and the dizzying effect he still had on you. His words, his stance, everything about him challenged you. 

And yet, here you were, standing your ground, even as every part of you wanted him.

“Jax,” you started, your voice tight, trying to rein in the whirlwind inside you. His name hung in the air, because you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Confront him? Brush it off? All you knew was that his refusal to apologize only fanned the flames of everything you’d been trying to put out of your mind since the almost-kiss.

He stepped closer, the heat between you intensifying. “I’m not sorry for what happened… or almost happened,” he added, his eyes never leaving yours. “You felt it, same as I did.”

He had you mesmerized, not even noticing when he closed the gap between you. His warmth surrounded you, the passion in his eyes undeniable as his hand cupped your cheek. You leaned into his palm without thinking, the briefest moment of surrender, eyes locked, both of you searching for something in the other.

Your heart raced as his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, his lips—full and slightly weathered, hovering just a breath away. The curve of his mouth was captivating, a subtle contrast to the roughness of his jawline. Everything about him pulled you in, every part of you screaming to let go. Without thinking, your hand moved, gently brushing over the cut above his eyebrow. His eyes briefly closing and his body nearly relaxing at your touch.

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly.

“Not as much as this,” he rasped, his voice thick with vulnerability. His grip on your cheek tightened slightly, his eyes focusing on you again. “Why do you keep pulling away?”

His question lingered, cutting through your haze. The connection, so vivid moments ago, now felt fragile and uncertain. You pulled back, your heart aching as you did. “Jax, I can’t,” you protested. “Not now. Not like this.”

Frustration flashed across his face, his jaw tightening as he fought against his emotions. “Why not?” he wondered, his tone rough but quiet. “We keep ending up here.” He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back. “We’ve been dancing around this for a while now, Pep. Every damn time I think we’re getting somewhere; you push me away.”

His gaze was unnerving, searching for answers you weren’t ready to give. You swallowed hard. “I’m trying to keep my head straight. You’re my client, first and foremost. And there’s too much at stake right now.” A plea edging into your words. “After everything we just went over out there, everything I’m up against now!” your voice rising slightly, “I need to focus.”

He clenched his fists, tension clear in the lines of his face. He knew you were right, but Jax Teller wasn’t someone who let things go easily, especially when it came to you. Pulling away from him bruised his pride, and you could see the fight in him, the struggle between understanding your words and his own wants and desires.

“I get it,” he muttered darkly, bitterness threading through his voice. He glanced away for a moment, his expression hardening before locking back onto you. “You need space from me.”

Here we go, you thought, biting back the urge to roll your eyes as you took a step back, letting out an exasperated sigh. You remembered this side of him all too well—the simmering agitation when he didn’t get exactly what he wanted. 

“You know what, Jax? Yeah, some of it is about needing space from you,” you snapped, your eyes locking onto his, unflinching. “From Charming. From all the ghosts that won’t let me breathe here.” The words came out sharp and cutting—words you’d swallowed for too long.

You watched his jaw flex, his face hardening even more, but his eyes—they were burning now, fierce and determined. For every step you took back, he took a step closer, the intensity in his gaze cutting through the distance you tried to put between you.

“I’m not a ghost,” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “I’m right here, Pep. You can run, put up all the walls you want, but don’t act like you don’t feel it too. Don’t act like I don’t know you, like I don’t see every part of you.”

His words were a challenge, a confession, and a promise all at once. Your heart hammered, the weight of them settling heavy and inescapable.

“You’re asking me to back off,” he muttered. “But you really think that’s gonna change how we feel? You put ten goddamn years of space between us, and the second we were back in the same room, it was still there!”

Another step closer, and he was right in front of you again, staring you down, eyes pleading with frustration and vulnerability. “You can keep pushing me away, but you know it as well as I do—there’s no escaping this. No amount of space is ever gonna bury what’s between us. And you know damn well that no one’s ever gonna know you like I do. Make you feel the way I do.”

His hands framed your face again, the heat of his touch sparking through you. “So tell me,” he whispered, his tone low and rough, leaning in just close enough for his breath to ghost across your skin. “Is running really what you want, or are you just scared of what happens if you stay?”

Your stomach did somersaults as you felt yourself drawn in, torn between the instinct to keep running and the undeniable truth of what he was saying. The weight of his conviction, the way he saw you so completely, sent a thrill through you. As much as it unnerved you, it tempted you, making it even harder to hold your ground.

You drew in a shaky breath, desperate to steady yourself, desperate for a break from all the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I’m not running,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, tinged with a rawness you couldn’t hide. “And I know a few days away probably won’t change anything. But I need it.”

You hesitated, the helplessness in your chest rising to the surface as you forced yourself to keep going. “This isn’t just about us. It’s everything—the past, the club, this trial…” Your voice wavered, a thread of desperation lacing your tone as your eyes met his with unflinching intensity. You needed him to let you breathe. “Just, please, Jax. Can you give me that?” 

His eyes met your intensity, a storm of emotions churning behind the blue depths. Love, history, and defiance all wrestled for control, torn between the pull that kept drawing you back together and the distance you were now pleading for. The battle was written all over his face.

But for once, he didn’t fight.

Instead, he stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. His jaw tense as if the distance itself physically pained him. It wasn’t surrender—it never would be with Jax. But this time, he gave you what you asked for, even though every part of him fought against it.

“Fine,” he uttered quietly, voice strained, the weight of his disappointment evident. It radiated off him in waves, lingering like an open wound.

You only nodded in response, grateful for the reprieve, but painfully aware of the strain it left behind. The silence that followed was suffocating, louder than any argument, filled with all the words you weren’t able to say. 

Because the real battle wasn’t about the trial, or the club, or even Jax himself. It was about fighting the part of you that longed to fall into him completely, no matter the cost. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week had dragged on, each day a slow reminder of the unease put between you and Jax for your unwillingness to admit your feelings. By the time the final hearing of the week wrapped up, you had a small victory—a win for the defense and a step closer to untangling this mess of a case. You needed the win, but more than that, you needed to get out of Charming.

As you stepped out of the courthouse, the adrenaline from the morning’s success still buzzing in your veins, you practically skipped toward your car, eager to escape. But then you saw him—Jax, parked beside you, arms crossed and waiting. A sigh slipped from your lips. So much for an easy exit.

You could feel his sunglass-covered eyes tracking your approach. There was a weight in his stance, a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. You tightened your grip on your keys, twisting them in your hand as you drew closer. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” you quipped, your tone laced with subtle sarcasm.

Jax’s lips tugged into a smirk, your sharp wit cutting through the tension like it always did. A flicker of amusement flashed in his expression. “Figured you’d try to sneak off without saying goodbye,” he replied, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them onto his collar. 

You mustered a lighthearted tone, forcing a smile despite the knot forming in your chest. “It’s only a few days, Jax. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

A shadow crossed his face, his jaw ticking slightly. “Don’t count on it,” he muttered. Then he took a breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Listen… about the other day. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, trying to get you to say things you didn’t want to.” 

Before you could respond, his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against yours—a light touch that sent a jolt through you, his way of bridging the distance. 

He glanced away, swallowing hard before adding. “I was an asshole.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Your words, not mine,” you muttered, not quite hiding the surprise his apology caught you by.

Still, the unexpected admission eased some of the strain between you. You gave a small nod, your voice softening. “I just… need to focus on what matters right now, which is winning this case and keeping you out of prison. Otherwise…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “All the things I do want to say, won’t matter.”

His hand shifted, thumb grazing over your knuckles in a slow caress, his touch radiating more emotion than any words could. His gaze dipped downward, softening, and for the first time in days, a faint spark of hope replaced the tension that had lingered there.

He lifted his other hand, his fingertips ghosting over your cheek, the contact achingly tender. His lips parted as if to speak, but he hesitated, letting the moment speak for itself. That flicker of hope, however faint, was enough to steady him. A small, almost bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if your raw honesty struck a chord that both stung and soothed him.

“Alright,” he acknowledged after a long pause, his eyes still fixed on yours. “I can live with that—for now.” He added his signature Jax Teller wink, a touch of levity that was so uniquely him.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him, settling for a playful glare instead. Even so, a small smile tugged at your lips. It wasn’t the resolution either of you had wanted, but it felt like something close to peace—a fragile, unspoken truce. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your drive home felt long, sunlight streaming through the tinted windows as your thoughts swirled. Exhaustion weighed on you, but adrenaline kept you on edge. Leaving Charming hadn’t delivered the escape you’d hoped for; despite the promises you’d made to yourself, the truth hit you with unsettling clarity—you’d fallen for him all over again. 

The more painful realization, though, was that you’d never really stopped loving him. No matter the years or the distance, he’d always been there, some part of you that refused to let go.

 Things were definitely more complicated now—so much heavier. You’d spent your whole life trying to separate yourself from the MC world. Growing up as the daughter of a former member had left its mark, a constant reminder of the risks, the violence, and the sacrifices tied to that life. And then, despite your best efforts, you’d fallen for Jax Teller. 

Twice. 

You groaned at the thought. Being back in his life now had forced you to confront a truth you’d spent years avoiding: no matter how far you ran, this was your legacy—your life—and it had taken root.

As soon as you entered the office, the haze in your mind cleared, and the emotions you’d been wrestling with were buried. Compartmentalizing had always been a strength, and now it allowed you to focus entirely on the task at hand. Liz and the defense team were already gathered, ready to dive into the next phase of the case.

The shadow of the Warlords’ involvement loomed over every detail, fueling the urgency that drove you forward. You slipped into your role effortlessly, issuing directives and delegating tasks with the precision of someone who thrived under pressure.

Time blurred as the day unfolded in a stream of legal strategy. The conference room thrummed with quiet intensity, the sound of rustling papers and focused voices filling the air. You and your team pored over documents, dissected evidence, and mapped out timelines. 

Every small breakthrough ignited a spark of hope, a flicker of progress in the uphill battle to shield Jax. It wasn’t just about the case anymore; it was about ensuring the survival of everything he fought to protect. The weight of responsibility settled on your shoulders and you felt more determined than ever. 

You were doing this for the club, for the family that had claimed you, and for the man who had a way of carving out space in your mind, leaving an ache that seemed to reach straight into your soul.

Finally, as the clock pushed past evening into the depths of the night, you packed up your notes and left the office, exhaustion seeping into your bones. When you finally stepped into the quiet of your house, the familiar stillness comforted you. You set your bag down, along with your favorite pizza and the six-pack you’d picked up on the drive home. Kicking off your shoes, you leaned against the counter and cracked open a beer. The restlessness inside you refused to quiet, buzzing under your skin, even in the calm of your home.

Without thinking, your hand reached for your phone, fingers grazing the screen. The urge to hear his voice, to make sure he was okay, tugged at you. But reason quickly cut through, reminding you of the promises you’d made to yourself. You set the phone back down with a sigh, taking another long swig of beer, hoping it would dull the ache.

What were you doing? You’d sworn you wouldn’t let your heart get tangled up in him, not when so much was at risk. Losing wasn’t an option—not when failure would mean more than just a professional defeat. Jax facing life in prison, being torn from his life and the future you now found yourself hoping for. The thought of losing him, of having to walk away again while everything was torn apart, was unbearable. You couldn’t let that happen.

Your mind wandered to your gradual reconnection with Jax, a slow pull back toward the man who once held your heart. He could still make you laugh, the kind of deep, unguarded laugh that felt like home. His rare, fleeting smiles—the ones he reserved for moments when his guard slipped—still struck you the same way they had back then.

There was a quieter strength in him now, one that made you feel both safe and exposed all at once. That fierce protectiveness you’d always admired was still there, but now it carried a heavier weight—shadows of stories he’d probably never tell.

The feelings he brought back to life within you were real and vibrant, not just echoes of young love—Jax had always known just how to unravel you, and somehow, he was doing it all over again.

Shaking off the weight of your thoughts, you gathered your things—the remaining beer, pizza box, and of course, the stack of work that never seemed to diminish—and headed to your bedroom. Routine steadied you as you washed your face and changed into your pajamas. 

Once ready, you spread your work across the bed, the soft glow of your bedside lamp spilling over the neatly organized files. You sank onto the mattress, the hum of determination replacing the restless buzz of your emotions. 

Among the documents, you spotted the original case files from years ago—Clay's murder of the Warlords president. You’d requested them for context, hoping they’d provide insight into how this mess had snowballed into Jax’s current predicament. As you scanned the pages, a name began to surface over and over: Reed Daniels.

First as a lead investigator. Then in a follow-up report. And then again in a list of interviews and testimonies from that case, your pulse quickening with each mention. Daniels hadn’t just been involved; he’d been deeply embedded.

“This doesn’t feel right…” you murmured, flipping through more documents. You grabbed a notepad, jotting down dates and cross-referencing them with the current case. Your suspicions mounted when you spotted Daniels’ signature on a report from a Warlords botched weapons bust—the same one you’d uncovered during prep.

The same missing evidence, the same key players, and now, the same investigator.

It was nearing midnight when your phone lit up, vibrating on the nightstand. Jax's name appeared across the screen. Your heart fluttered, a flicker of warmth piercing through your concentration. You reached for the phone with a small, involuntary smile.

"I haven’t even been gone a day, ya know," you teased, your voice light as a giggle escaped your lips.

Jax chuckled on the other end, the sound low and warm. “What can I say? Guess I’m needier than I thought. You make it home alright?”

Leaning back against the headboard, you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “You worried about me, Teller? That’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Nah, just trying to make sure you didn’t wreck your car fantasizing about me on the drive back.”

“Oh, you caught me,” your tone heavy with sarcasm. “It’s a miracle I didn’t veer off the road, completely blinded by your endless charm and cocky ass smirk.” 

“This smirk’s got a fan club, babe.” Jax drawled, his voice oozing with confidence.

You scoffed, though the warmth spreading in your chest betrayed you. “Well, I’ll send in my resignation then. I don’t think I’m interested in being a card-carrying member.”

“Liar,” he fired back, his tone slipping into that low, cocky rasp that always made your pulse jump. “You’ve always been my number one fan, Pep. Just don’t wanna admit it. But it’s cool—I’ve got plenty of ways to convince you to renew. And the perks? You know they’re unforgettable.”

That rasp in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, heat sparking low in your belly. But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. “I’m sure you’ve got the whole pitch rehearsed,” you shot back, keeping your tone light even as your heart fluttered. “But you should know—I’ve raised my standards since then.”

“That so?” his voice dipping lower, now almost a purr that curled through the phone and into your ear. “Good thing I’ve always been good at exceeding expectations.”

Your breath caught, desire simmering as the memory of his touch—his mouth—flashed unbidden in your mind. You gripped the phone tighter, determined to keep your tone even. “Bold of you to assume I’m that easy to impress these days.”

Jax chuckled softly, the sound dark and full of promise. “Oh, I remember exactly what it took to impress you. All those pretty little noises you used to make…” His voice trailed off, his seduction hanging in the air.

Your body betrayed you, a flush creeping over your skin as the unspoken memories lingered.

This motherfucker.

You exhaled a soft laugh, shaking your head as you twirled a pen between your fingers, grasping at the sliver of composure you still had. “Is there a point to this call, or was it just to inflate your ego?”

“Can’t it be both?” he countered, his tone teasing but softer, almost boyish. Then, after a brief pause, his voice dipped, speaking with a sincerity that made your stomach flip-flop. “Maybe I just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed—his tone tender, carrying that quiet care he always reserved just for you. He softened in ways anyone rarely saw, his sharp edges smoothing as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting the harsher parts of himself touch you.

To everyone else, Jax was a force to be reckoned with—a volatile leader who thrived on controlled chaos. But with you, he wasn’t the ruthless protector of SAMCRO, he was simply Jax. The grit and intensity he showed to the rest of the world faded, leaving behind just the man beneath the weight of the patch. 

The playful edge lingered in your reply, an attempt to keep the moment light, but you needed to steer this conversation out of its current territory. “For your information, I made it home in one piece. Happy now?”

“Getting there,” he said softly, the smirk you could hear in his tone tinged with care. “Now tell me you aren’t still working.”

“I plead the fifth.” You responded sheepishly.

He groaned, dragging the sound out with exaggerated frustration that made you roll your eyes. “Pep, it’s after midnight. Get some sleep.” 

“Not until I’m done,” you replied firmly, flipping through the stack of papers in front of you. But as a beat of silence stretched on, your tone shifted, the weight of your discovery creeping in. “Hey… does the name Reed Daniels mean anything to you?”

The easy banter vanished, replaced by a charged stillness. When Jax finally spoke, suspicion edged his voice. “Daniels? The DA’s investigator?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, rising to stretch your stiff muscles. “He’s been popping up in a few places—his names on some old case files connected to the Warlords. And now he’s the lead investigator on your case. Doesn’t that seem… off?” you asked, beginning to pace. 

“Definitely off,” Jax confirmed, his tone sharp, the playfulness gone. “A couple years back, Chibs and I had a run-in with the Warlords, and one of their guys mentioned someone feeding them intel, keeping things clean when the heat got close. Daniels wasn’t named outright, but it fits.”

Your pulse quickened. “So he really is working with them?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Jax muttered. “He’s probably covering his own ass. Ties to the Warlords and keeping the DA happy? That’s power—and protection.”

“If Daniels is tied to this, it changes everything. I wonder if I can prove he’s manipulating evidence,” you said, your thoughts spilling into the open as the weight of the revelation settled over you, the implications unraveling in your mind

“Damn right it changes everything,” Jax said, his voice laced with a restrained anger. “But it also makes this mess even riskier. If Daniels is playing both sides, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep his hands clean. That includes burying us—and you.”

The warning in his voice sent a chill down your spine, but your determination flared. “Then we need to find the proof before he knows we’re onto him. There must be something tying him to the Warlords.”

“I’ll get the club digging,” Jax said, his tone resolute. “Reyes and his boys don’t move without a plan, and Daniels might’ve left something behind. If there’s dirt to find, we’ll uncover it.”

You hesitated, sitting back down against the headboard. “Jax, just… be careful, okay? If anyone connected gets wind of this, they won’t think twice about escalating things. I can’t have you, or any of the guys, getting dragged into something worse right now.”

His voice softened, but the resolve remained. “I hear you. But I’m not gonna sit back while this asshole tries to take me down.”

You knew better, Jax was methodical when it came to handling threats, calculating even when his emotions ran high. He didn’t rush in blindly, but once his sights were set on a target, he was relentless. And when it came to protecting the club, he operated with a precision that was both impressive and terrifying. That same drive was what made him such a formidable leader—and what made you so worried about what might come next.

“Jax,” you warned, your tone firm but tinged with unease, “don’t make a move until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

There was a moment of silence before he exhaled, a quiet concession. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

Even as he said it, you could hear the tension in his voice, the barely restrained need to act. It was Jax, after all—waiting had never been his strong suit. The faint flick of a lighter followed, then the soft sound of him exhaling smoke. The familiar, intimate noise sent a pang through you, a reminder of just how much space he still occupied in your mind.

“Can you do me a favor, though?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the rough edges softened with concern.

“What’s that?” you asked, stretching your back and legs, trying to ease the knot of tension his words had tied there.

“Get some rest, okay?” His voice held a disarming gentleness, the kind that always seemed to soothe you. “You’re no good to anyone if you burn yourself out.”

His words made your heart swell, the weight of his care slipping effortlessly past the walls you’d worked so hard to construct. No matter how much time passed, Jax knew how you operated. He could see the way you poured yourself into your work, how you pushed yourself too far, even when you thought no one else noticed.

You hesitated, torn between brushing him off and letting his concern linger. “I’ll try,” you said softly, though you weren’t entirely sure you believed yourself. “Goodnight, Jax.”

“Night, Pep,” he murmured, his voice carrying tenderness that lingered even after the line clicked dead.

You sighed, your fingers brushing the corner of the closest stack of case files. But Jax’s voice lingered, stubborn as ever, urging you to rest. For a moment, you just sat there, his words replaying in your mind, that unexpected softness swirling inside you. 

Slowly, you stood, brushing your hands against your thighs as you moved around the room, shoving the files to the empty side of the bed. A fleeting thought crossed your mind—wishing Jax was the one filling that space instead. The warmth that crept up your neck made you shake your head, a quiet blush heating your skin.

When you finally crawled into bed, you flicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in faint moonlight. Sleep wouldn’t come easily—you knew that much—but you closed your eyes, letting out a long, measured breath.

Your thoughts drifted back to the way his voice softened when he said your name, the way he cared even when you tried to keep him at arm’s length. It was infuriating how easily he could reach you, how his concern could consume you.

You turned onto your side, staring at the wall as the minutes ticked by. You’d done this so many times before—compartmentalized, boxed up your emotions, shoved them somewhere unreachable. But tonight was different.

Because it was Jax.

So for now, just for a moment, you let yourself feel the full weight of his care—and the ache that came with it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days had blurred together, your time at home quickly dwindling as the work piled up. You’d thrown yourself into your part of the case, chasing leads and piecing together evidence, while Jax and SAMCRO handled things on their end. Or so you assumed. He’d been unusually quiet, the texts and calls that once punctuated your days now conspicuously absent.

It wasn’t like him.

Jax didn’t do quiet, not with you.

The thought nagged at you as you sat at your desk, flipping through notes you’d scrawled earlier. Witness statements, timelines, and inconsistencies in the DA’s case were scattered across your desk, the disarray a reflection of how you felt inside.

You glanced at the clock—nearly 10 p.m.—and let out a long breath. You’d spent the day tracking down a lead that fizzled into nothing and reviewing an expert’s deposition that could poke holes in the prosecution’s timeline. The latest developments with the Warlords were troubling, their reach deeper and more calculated than you’d expected. 

You leaned back in your chair, tilting your head to stretch your neck and rolling your shoulders in a futile attempt to shake off the tension that clung to you, frustration simmering beneath your exhaustion. Something wasn’t adding up. The silence from Jax, the Warlords’ calculated precision—it all felt off.

Your phone rang then, piercing through the quiet. Jax’s name flashing across the screen making your heart skip. You didn’t hesitate, your finger swiping to answer.

“Jax,” you answered cautiously, trying to keep your voice even.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone sharp, cutting straight to the point. “We need to talk.”

You sat up in your chair, the clipped edge of his voice immediately setting you on alert. “What’s going on?”

“Warlords,” he said flatly. “They know we’ve been digging. They sent a message.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, dread creeping in. “What kind of message?”

“They’re watching us,” he bit out, his voice thick with restrained anger. “They sent pictures—of our guys, their families.” His voice dropped into a deep growl. “Club property’s been hit. They’re making it crystal fucking clear they’re coming for us.”

You closed your eyes, his words landing like a punch. “Fuck,” you cursed. “This is exactly what we didn’t need. Do you have proof? Something we can use?”

“No,” he admitted, his frustration bleeding through. “But this isn’t about proof. It’s about sending a message. They're seeing how far they can push.”

“And what do you plan to do?” you asked warily, already dreading the answer. “You know they’re baiting you.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. “They crossed a big fucking line.”

Your jaw tightened as the knot in your stomach grew. “If you retaliate—”

“They threatened my family!” he cut in, his voice rising with barely contained fury. “You think I’m just going to sit back and let them get away with that?”

His words struck deeper than you expected, and for a moment, the intensity of his anger made your breath catch. But you pushed it aside, forcing yourself to stay clear headed. “You don’t get to make that call, Jax. Not with this trial hanging over your head. If you move on this, you’re playing right into their hands. The DA’s watching your every move, waiting for any excuse to bury you—and the club.”

The line went quiet except for his uneven breathing. “You think I don’t know that?” he said finally, his voice strained. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake?” he asked sharply. 

“Then act like it!” you snapped, your frustration at him flaring. “This isn’t just about the club, Jax! It’s about your freedom. You need to stand down.”

His laugh was low, bitter, and laced with sharp defiance. “I don’t need you to tell me how to run my club,” he hissed, the words cutting through the phone like a blade.

The harshness of his tone caught you off guard. His frustration, his temper, they were familiar, but this cutting, biting edge in his voice? It wasn’t something he directed at you. You couldn’t recall ever experiencing this version of him. 

But you weren’t one to back down. Not with him.

You straightened in your chair, your voice biting back with just as much force. “And I don’t need you to blow up your entire defense because you can’t keep your temper in check,” you shot. “You want to protect the club? Fine. But if you want to still be here to lead it when this is over, you’re going to have to be smarter than this.”

Silence followed, but you could feel the tension radiating through the line. When he finally spoke, his voice was clipped and cold. “I’ll handle it,” his words leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, gripping the phone tighter. “Handle it how?” you pressed, the suspicion clear in your voice.

“Just trust me,” he bit out, and before you could respond, the line went dead

“Son of a bitch,” you growled, lowering the phone with a frustrated sigh. Your knuckles turned white as you set it down, the tension coursing through your body. You knew better than to trust him in a moment like this. Jax was ruled by instinct, by loyalty, and by that maddening need to protect everyone he cared about, no matter the cost.

He didn’t wait for permission and certainly didn’t stop to consider consequences when the people he loved were threatened. It was what made him the leader he was, but it was also what made him dangerous—to himself and to everyone around him.

At this point, all you could do was hope that, for once, he’d set aside his impulses and think about what was truly at stake. The knot in your stomach tightened, and all you could do was brace yourself for whatever came next. Silently praying that the fallout was minimal.

[sigh-tofm]

being mrs. price, your house is routinely visited by the men in your husband's task force. johnny drops by to deliver last minute reports. kyle (having already finished, signed and handed in his reports in a timely manner) now and then stops by to lure john into going jogging.

and ghost comes by for dinner, rigorously once a week in the periods he’s home. you think it might be the only meals he ever eats hot, apart from the mush they get in the cafeteria on base. so you take extra care to season just right, make sure the meat is nice and tender, the produce fresh and green.

you don’t know much about ghost, mostly because there isn’t much to know. no significant other. no parents or siblings, no family at all. john has become his stand in for a father, a mentor, johnny and kyle his unruly siblings and friends.

and you? well.

you’re slivers away from sleep when john speaks.

"honey?"

"hm."

"i think simon’s lonely."

you don’t move, still intent on falling asleep. "mm."

"honey."

"'s a grown man."

"yeah, but… it’s not easy for him."

"what."

"this life. being a civilian."

you don’t answer.

"he doesn’t have a partner."

you sigh, but resolutely keep your eyes shut. even though the bedroom is dark and john can't see you anymore than you can him, you can feel his eyes boring into you. he's waiting for you to say something. you could agree and move on. no, he doesn't. so what? you could go to sleep, or at least pretend to.

but it feels a little heartless.

"his private life isn't your concern, john," you eventually mutter.

john shifts. you can hear the sheets rustle and feel the mattress sway slightly under you. now that you've said yours you're content to sleep, unconsciousness tugging lightly at the edges of your mind, when he speaks again.

"i wouldn't mind... sharing with him."

his words tears you to the surface of alertness and you sit up abrutply, your mind halfway addled with residual sleep. what did he just say?

"what-" you fiddle with the lamp on the nightstand until it turns on, revealing john quite innocently looking up at you from where he's resting on his pillow. did you even hear him right? you replay what he said over and over in your mind until you're sure you in fact heard him correctly.

"john price, go sleep on the couch!" you exclaim and push at his solid shoulder to get him to move. you don't know what to say, apart from that. not only is it adultery, it's ouright nauseating, readily suggesting offering up his own wife like that.

john, after excusing his behaviour, kisses your temple and pulls the duvet up over your shoulders, then exits the room. you hear the creaky staircase serenade his descent and you try your best not to think about your husband’s colleague and subordinate, asleep in the next room over because a surprise snowfall didn’t let him drive home after tonight's dinner.

you can’t stay mad for long. john is so good to you, so considerate. he's cooking up hash browns, fried eggs and sausage downstairs when you wake up the morning after, the scent wafting in from under the bedroom door. simon left early, john tells you as you come down and put on the kettle. you remark that you hope he ate something first, and john assures you he he gave him a big plate before he had to go. something about working out with johnny. you hum as you make your tea the way you like it john's tea the way he likes his. last night seems a distant memory. by midday you're not it even sure it happened. at dinnertime it's forgotten entirely.

but a week later, you're reminded of the conversation and john's remark. in fact, after your midnight exchange and your subsequent subconscious pondering of it all, you realize john's right. simon is lonely. when you three gather around your hardwood dining table a week later, it's like a veil has been lifted from your eyes. you can't help but send sideways glances at simon as you part a broccoli floret with you steak knife and sip your wine. he looks so lonesome and pathetic, hunched over in a kitchen chair that really is to narrow for him, that his brooding stare and pulled up hoodie don’t make up for it.

it's something about the way his eyes are set, how they move. always observing and analysing, rarely acting on it. like a trusty work horse he answers without fail to any semblance of an order or request, be it from you or from john. maybe the implicit obedience is what makes him a good soldier, you idly wonder, although you know the scars across his lip and through his eyebrow, the crookedness of his nose, tell a different story. passive obedience doesn't earn one a lieutenant degree.

as offensive as john's initial proposal was, you're still ruminating on it. it's not like you're not curious, but you're not sure how far the curiousity stretches. another week passes and the thought doesn't repulse you anymore. dinner is fish this week, and simon is dutifully cutting up his filet even though you know it's not his favourite. but you care about him and his omega-3 intake, and so you make fish once a month for your shared dinners.

another week later, at midnight, as john is about to fall asleep, you concede.

"fine. once."

[virgobaby98]

Trucker Harry. Year, 1990

Synopsis: Harry picks up hitchhiker who wants adventure in a new city

❌NSFW❌ trigger warning; smut, oral (f receiving), brief mention of anal, cheating.

I’m tired.

It’s the same routine everyday.

Wake up, shower, dry hair, work clothes, kiss boyfriend, skip breakfast, hop the train, work, skip lunch, hop the train, kick off shoes, pjs, find something to eat, hop in bed.

Repeat everyday. Except weekends, don’t go out on the weekend, rot in bed.

It’s been this way since may. I had a feeling something was off. I woke up to the home phone going off at 2am, my boyfriend was passed out so I decided to answer. When I hear her. “Hello?” A breathy female voice. “Are you there handsome? I was hoping you could come over, I bought some new massage oils.” My throat dries up and I’m at a loss for words. Is my boyfriend cheating?

I mean I should be furious or crying at least! I think? I’m not sure, I don’t know.

Maybe this sadness started before that even.

It’s been a few months of this really, he used to be all over me all the time. My boyfriend works close to home literally across the street and is pretty much his own boss so he comes and goes as he pleases so I was always treated like a princess, he made me breakfast in bed (sometimes it was simple like oatmeal and toast some days it was big, filled with fried eggs, toast, sausage, hash browns etc.) before starting the shower for me. He had my lunch bag packed full of last nights leftovers, some popcorn in a plastic baggy, a water bottle, some crackers for the train ride home, a new sticky note every day that basically says some form of “I love you”

Supper was in the oven when I got home and he made up my section of the couch in a way that I love to relax in. Glass with wine on my side table by the couch with my favourite blanket draped on the end of the couch so I can wrap myself up in and forget the world.

I don’t make enough to leave or live on my own or I would’ve left. Loneliness doesn’t scare me but I have grown used to living with someone.

He has definitely lost interest in me so gradually that I don’t even know when this stopped and I started having a roommate. He doesn’t sleep in the same bed as me and sex hasn’t been a thing in at least 2 months.

I got home today and hopped in the shower disrupting my routine but I need to feel something. My suspicions were confirmed that his affair was still ongoing when I seen foundation on his blue button up in the laundry bin. I’m guessing he’s become too lazy to try to hide it anymore. I turned the water on a little colder then usual to try to wake myself up, I decided today I need a change. What I’m changing I’m not sure yet but a colder shower is something so far.

When I hopped out I noticed he was gone but to where I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I don’t care.

I sat on the bed in my towel staring at my closet.

It’s Tuesday at 5pm, I could be out bar hopping, or going to a movie, or dinner right now but I can’t seem to get up or even move my feet to move me in a different direction.

I close my eyes and envision the beach at this time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunset at a beach that didn’t come from a movie or picture.

I could go to the beach? Is that what I want? I don’t think I even live near a man made beach.

You know what? Let’s do that. Let’s go to the beach. Let’s go to California actually I think to myself.

I have enough in my savings to afford a trip I think, but I have to get up and move now if I’m going to do this or I won’t do it.

I open our bedroom closet door, grab a blue hoodie, some grey sweats, white shirt and underwear from my dresser, throw on the same beige coloured bra I wore today and there I’m dressed to go to the beach. Well dressed to get a ride to the beach.

I grab my passport from my underwear dresser, my duffle bag from the top of the closet and rummage through my drawers til I find my swimsuit, some comfy pjs, extra set of clothes, underwear, bra, socks. I turn to the bathroom and grab my brush, my makeup bag, lotion, and I could just buy some cheap shampoo and conditioner when I get there, I grab a towel from the hallway closet and I neatly pack my duffle before throwing on shoes and head towards the door. I leave a note on the counter “headed to the west coast for a couple weeks” I need to do this.

I walk towards the train stop and use my change to purchase a timed ticket good for an hour and find the giant illuminated map of the city built in the middle of the train stop to figure out my best way to the airport.

Hop the train. It’s quieter here then it usually is, then again I almost never take the train outside of rush hour going to and from work. The airport is less than an hour away from where I live by train so I settle in my seat and play some music on my Walkman when I feel hungry.

I hop off at the next stop and walk til I see a coffee shop and head inside where I line up to grab a drink. Cappuccino’s are the trendiest drink so I order one and decide to grab a grilled cheese as well.

I pick up my order and head towards one of the cushioned green lounge chairs in the back near the fireplace and I set my duffle bag by my feet after looping my foot into the handle, Don’t want to risk losing it or forgetting it.

I finish my grilled cheese and my drink is about halfway when at the corner of my eye, I see a dark haired figure walk towards the door near my seat.

Dark curly hair with black sunglasses and wearing a burgundy coloured flannel with dark blue jeans and boots, He’s definitely good looking. and… obviously not into me and my grubby sad appearance. I look down at what I’m wearing and quickly wipe my face with my napkin then wipe any crumbs that fell onto my hoodie as I collect my garbage to go throw it out at the can near the door when I trip over my duffle bag at my feet and yelp as I fall onto my hands and knees.

A barista and the tall dark stranger make their way over to me and help lift me to my feet as I continuously say “I’m okay I’m okay” with a light chuckle and wipe my dusty knees with my hands before standing and thanking them.

They both seem okay with the response and continue on with what they were doing and I pick up my garbage off the floor and successfully dispose of it before turning and grabbing my duffle bag and walking out the door thankful I’ll never see these people again.

The map at the train stop shows me the bus stop I need to take me to the airport where I can probably catch the next flight to Los Angeles, I hop the train I need to take me to the stop I need to hop to my bus.

I stare out the window and listen to music when the idea that my boyfriend is cheating on me pops in my head again.

I wonder what I would’ve told him if i confronted him. I purse my lips as I think of a clever response. Should I be witty? Truthful? Sneaky? Or lame? I think of every things he said to me the last few months. so dry and kind of demanding lately now that I think about it. Then I think about the way the girl sounded, So soft and bubbly! She had new body massage oil for them to try? Which means they tried some other oils before then and I feel hurt. If only he put that energy into bettering our relationship with me instead of building one with her then maybe we’d be in a better place right now, I’d be in a better place right now. Like home. I’m starting to miss home now that I actually think about it.

Oh my god. what am I doing? I’m basically throwing away my life to do this beach trip I mean I didn’t request time off im going to lose my job doing this and my boyfriend would not approve of me taking off and losing my job even if I have enough saved up to live off of for half the year. I didn’t think any of this through.

Wait what I’m I thinking of him for? He hasn’t thought of me in months. He’ll probably be elated that I’m taking off for a couple days if he has someone else he’s interested in, probably calling her to come over right now instead of waiting for me to come home.

My mood sours even more and I decide to head home and end this relationship once and for all and move out even if I have to live with a roommate or rent a room somewhere.

I get up from my seat and stand by the door waiting for the next stop and hop the train opposite of the platform to head home.

The platform is freezing and I’m shivering as I wait for the opposite train to pull in any minute when there’s an announcement made.

‘All southbound trains are at the moment closed due to an accident at another station. Please wait for a shuttle bus to be in your area soon to take you to your destination. Thank you’

Great. Another obstacle.

Or maybe it’s a sign to keep going?

I don’t know, I’m tired and thirsty though.

I walk towards the giant map in the middle of the train stop to find the nearest convenience store within walking distance.

ROAD KING TRUCK STOP 24hrs

Is about a 10 minute walk from here and there’s a McDonald’s like 2 minutes pass there. I could sit in and think about what I’m going to do.

Honestly, this might be the biggest convenience store I’ve been in. There’s everything here I could need or want and there’s places to sit, a change room you can shower in and rooms to rent too!

I mean I never really knew what truckers do when they’re not driving but I’m sure there’s places like this littered throughout the world for them and I never even knew about them til now.

I decided on grabbing a Dr Pepper and water bottle to put in my duffel bag for later and make myself a hot chocolate in a to go coffee cup.

I stroll by the pastries, sandwiches, beef jerky, and fruit section and grab myself a banana, a mandarin, and a turkey and cheese sandwich after checking the expiration date.

I pull out my wallet and pay for my items and head towards the seating area when I catch a glance of the magazines in the back area. I forgot porno magazines were a thing, but I guess truckers need something when they’re out on the road?

A blonde with her tits out on the cover of the front page, another of a brunette flashing her bum while looking over her shoulder. I quickly look away like I’m a naughty child about to be swatted at for looking and continue my way to the seats.

I pull out my sandwich and hot chocolate then I unwrap my sandwich and take a bite.

A couple people walk in and out after buying their items as time goes on. I could just rent a room here for now and figure out where to go in the morning.

My mind seems to be in two places at once right now. Normally I’m very organized and planned but I can’t rely on that side of my brain right now. I need to be spontaneous and go with the flow if I want to get away from home.

Thirty minutes pass when I decide to make the trek back to the train station or shuttle area for the bus since the train probably still isn’t working. I walk my trash to the bin and then head out the door. It’s a bit chilly outside but not unpleasant.

After only five minutes of waiting the shuttle comes to take me to the next working train station. I hop on and put my bag down to rummage through for my wallet when I notice it’s not in the regular pocket I put it in. It’s not in the main pocket, and it’s not in my pants pocket either. The driver is becoming more impatient as I scramble to look for it before he barks for me to get off and wait for the next shuttle.

I hop off the bus and pull my bag to the seated bus area as the bus takes off in the background. I must’ve left it at the truck stop? Oh god I hope it’s still there I had my ID’s and bank cards in there along with some cash but I could care less about the cash if everything else is in there. Oh man how am I suppose to get home? How am I supposed to get to the beach?

I give up. I can call my “boyfriend” to come pick me up or to get cash out to pay for a taxi if my wallet isn’t at the truck stop.

I pick everything up this time taking my time and checking that I packed everything back into place before heading back to the truck stop.

At the store, I make a bee line for the seated area I was at and just my luck nothing is there. I’m quick to ask the cashier if anyone’s turned in my wallet and describe it to him, but hes shakes his head no, nothings been turned in.

My shoulder’s slump as I nod my head and accept my fate. No beach and I go back to living my life unloved. I sit back at my original seat and contemplated calling my boyfriend. But even with nothing I can’t let him win even if it means I have to sit here all night til the banks open.

“Miss?” I look up to the cashier. “Miss I’m sorry but you’ll have to buy something to sit here.” “But I was just here 20 minutes earlier I bought stuff then?” He can’t be serious. “I’m sorry miss but you’re a returning costumer and need to buy something if you want to continue sitting here.” I guess he’s serious. I grab my bag, this time turning around and checking my seat and walk out the door. my tail tucked between my legs and begin walking towards the same bus stop as before.

30 minutes pass by and 3 busses leave me in the dust as I sit and wait for the morning to come. I’m cold and tired and I should’ve rented a room the first time I thought of it. Stuck in the industrial area that’s mostly made for semi trucks as I’ve barely seen any other types of cars out here aside from a couple odd ones this late at night. Nothing else to do but play with my thumbs in my hoodie pocket.

My thumbs.

My thumb?

I could hitch hike to the beach? I mean that’s dangerous, stupidly dangerous.

But I am too far from home. Train isn’t working I can’t even hop it and risk a fine anyways, bus won’t pick me up, store won’t let me ‘loiter’

I had enough guts to get this far I could go further if I try. I mean I’m only broke til the morning technically, and if the driver is kind enough to wait til then I could pay them in the morning?

I stand up with my bag in hand and walk to the busy road in front of the truck stop and begin walking to the intersection and watch trucks pull in and out of the stop. I pray I get a female driver, I mean, I know it’s not a female dominated industry but a girl can hope. I begin walking west, far enough from the truck stop and then I stick out my thumb.

After a few minutes of walking with my thumb out my arm gets sore and I’m about to call it quits I mean it’s after 1 am at this point, another semi passes by me, this time honking their horn and they slow down and pull to the side up ahead. I can’t believe it worked! I’m scared but my feet quicken as I remember I’ll be in a warm vehicle. I think to myself ‘here we go’ as I climb the steps up the passengers side and open the door.

“Where you headed?”

It’s a male, which okay I guessed this was the most likely scenario but still disappointing.

“West. California technically” I reply as I hop in the seat and put my bag on my lap the warm air feeling like heaven after being outside for so long.

“Best I can do is Nevada. I’m not due in California for another week” the stranger replies.

I nod my head “my names Y/N I just need a ride headed west til I can get to the bank in the morning I can pay you then if you don’t mind? Lost my wallet this evening”

God I hope that’s okay. I mean I’m good for the money but how does he know that.

“S’alright, I don’t mind the company. I think I can trust you won’t kill me. M’names Harry.”

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you promise not to kill me.” I let out a little chuckle, I mean I could be joking with a murderer right now.

I buckle my seat, put my bag by my feet and hold tightly onto my Walkman in my hoodie

pocket.

Harry puts the signal on to get back onto the road, puts the truck in drive, shoulder checks then merges successfully.

I didn’t really get a good glance of how he looks. But from what I see from the streetlights that randomly flash inside the cab, he’s looks pretty average. Dark hair under his trucker hat, Dark flannel with rolled sleeves and jeans are all I can see. I look around me, I’ve never been in a semi truck before I just assumed they were built like a regular vehicle inside? Which ok yeah they kind of are but there’s multiple gauges and screens on the dashboard I have no clue what any of them mean. I only know gas and speedometer and that’s the extent of my vehicle gauge knowledge. The radio is on low, the hum of the engine roars to life as harry starts to slowly pick up speed.

“So, why are you hitching a ride to the west?”

Harry finally asks. “Uh, where to start. I’ve had rough day, or Rough week or months I guess”

I reply. I mean how much do you tell a stranger about your life? “Must be rough to be hitching a ride” Harry turns to me with a smile. Even in the dark I can tell he’s got a nice smile. “I mean if you want a recap of just today I can tell you.”

Not to change the subject but, My seat is so comfy. They aren’t made of the traditional car seats you may be used to. These are velvety soft, and bouncy. Basically feels like a lazy boy without the arm rests.

“Sure give me just today” Harry laughs lightly.

“Well uh, I found out.. my boyfriend of the last 4 years has been cheating on me. For how long I’m not too sure, he used to be head over heels in love with me though. Literally felt like a fairy tale and other women would always compliment us as being the ‘cutest couple’.

Anyways, I uh I had to leave. Impulsive decisions have been leading me today because I think my brain is shutting itself down since finding out. I mean I haven’t even cried about my relationship ending” the streets are dead quiet. the only light is the moon reflecting of the asphalt as we head out of the city and the orange lights in the trucks gauges. I think I’m overtired too. “And I pretty much chose to give up my job to do this, I mean it’s a tuesday and I’m on my way to the west coast and I haven’t even thought of trying to leave a message for my boss to give him a heads up. So when I come back I’ll have no job and when I move out I’ll have no place to live, it’s not like I can just pack up and move back home too since my parents sold their home this past winter and now live in a 1 bedroom condo in Florida which, you know, good for them. But that leaves me with nothing. All I have to my name is my passport and idk how far I can get with that.”

Harry nods along as I continue to vent my problems. “Well sugar, I’m sorry for laughing earlier. Yeah you’re right your life has gone to shit.” I want to cry but instead burst of laughing. God I’m overtired. “It’s okay maybe I needed to get that all out. I kinda feel better, I think it was all pent up anger about the situation.” I thank Harry for listening and pay attention to the road again. Where are we going again? I think to myself I know he told me but can’t remember. I need to sleep at some point. “Where are we going again?” I ask him.

“I have to go a grocery store in Mesquite Nevada. They special ordered some kind of restaurant hardware im thinking it’s for their deli? but I’m not sure, anyways that’s literally all I have to do there then I’m headed on up to Kalispell Montana to pickup a truck for a rich costumer in Oregon. I’ll have a couple days off then I’m due in L.A. For a contract.” Harry replies as he slows for a red light.

“Wow, you’re busy. When do you sleep?”

“Depends on where I’m headed and how far the stretches are in between locations. I should have slept tonight and left at say, 6 am but I figure I’ll catch some sleep on the road tonight eventually, probably at another truck stop or a rest stop”

Christ that sounds so tiring, I wonder when I could sleep and if he’s going to get a room before we ge to Nevada? “How long will it take to get to Mesquite?” I didn’t think any of this through I pretty much forced my way into this man’s life for the next few hours.

Harry looks over at me “probably be there by around 8-9am if I don’t stop, but I do need to sleep sometime before then if you don’t mind.” I don’t know what it is but this all makes me feel like a burden. “I’m sorry if I threw off your routine, I could jump out at the next set of red lights if it’s easier for you?”

I reply looking down at my bag as I play with my fingers.

Harry looks over at me and lightly swats at my arm for attention and I look at him. “Hey, don’t think like that, I’m happy I picked you up.” He says with a smile. I smile back. “Really?” “Really. Firstly I’m happy I’m the one that picked you up and not some other man. Not to spit on my own kind but there’s not a lot of truckers out there with… good intentions. And secondly, I enjoy company. I used to have a dog named Ted that rode with me, beautiful black lab, but my wife got him in the divorce.”

Oh so he’s single? I mean not that I care but I was thinking to ask him if his girlfriend would care if he gave me a ride or if he would even talk about me after I leave his truck. “You were married?” I didn’t mean to make it sound so shocking. Harry smirks, “yeah I was, swear it only lasted about 2 minutes though. We were high school sweethearts and we were each others first everything. Together for 7 years and I decided I wanted to put a ring on her finger. We were engaged and wed within the same week in Vegas on a whim and I was happier than ever! Then the following week she blindsides me completely. She’s pregnant with another man’s baby, 3 months at that point and it was when I was out of state on a contract, then she runs off with him. Divorced that same month. Even after everything she did I still let her have everything. I was angry at first at her, at him, at myself. I drank myself under the table multiple times but have sobered up since then.” Harry pulls out a bottled water that’s already open and finishes whatever’s left.

“Wow. That’s a lot to happen in a few weeks. when was this?” I pry “Last year” He sighs.

“It’s all old news now, I’ve had a couple flings here and there since then. Mostly set up by my friends and my mom who worry about me. It’s taken some time but I’m at peace with it all now though”

Christ I can’t even begin to think about dating again. The fact I have to start that all over again too sounds so draining and I haven’t even started.

Harry clears his throat and pulls me from my thoughts. “I have a bunk on top of my bed if you want to take that one? Otherwise you’re welcome to sleep on my bed while I drive and if I decide to pull over I’ll sleep on the top bunk. How does that sound?” He asks then reaches behind him on his left side. A large black curtain I didn’t even see when I first hopped in the truck is pulled to the side and I can see the back is lit up by the moon through the tiny curtain on top.

“Oh! I didn’t even know you had a bed back here. That’s so cool! Are all semi trucks built like this?” I unbuckle my seat and stand to go explore the back area of the truck.harry flick a button in the middle of his dashboard that turns the light on inside so I can see better “No, not all semi’s are built the same. Some don’t have beds, that’s why truck stops with rooms exists” He explains.

In the back is a twin bed with the bed made in a neat enough way, There’s multiple cupboards and a tiny white fridge tucked under a cupboard. On the passenger side behind the seat there’s a 13” tv/vcr combo and a stack of VHS’ piled beside it. “Uh, what top bunk?” I ask him as I try to look. “Look above the twin, there’s a strip you can pull down” I do as he says and a another twin bunk falls down gently. “it’s never been used”

I put it back in place and sit back In my seat. “That’s so cool. I didn’t know some of you had beds back there. I just thought it was excess storage or something.”

Harry smiles “that’s where you can sleep if you get tired. Please don’t feel like a burden.”

After playing a bit of the license plate game and some shitty night time version of eye spy,

I feel my eyes get heavy as I listen to the quiet radio. The trees lining the highway are hypnotizing me and the tires hum on the pavement is similar to my fan at home. My head falls to the side and I jerk myself awake.

“Oops, sorry. I think I’m ready to sleep finally.”

Harry smiles at me. “Please nap in the bed. I’m fine for now, I’ll wake you when we get there.” I nod and unbuckle myself then head to the back I sit on the bed and flip the pillow. A habit I do at home as well, kick my shoes off and lay down ontop of the bedding.

Harry shakes my shoulder as he whispers “Y/N, hey, wake up.” My eyes are blurry as I rub them and move to sit up. “Hey doll, I stopped at the store do you need anything? Bathroom maybe?” I nod and look for my shoes and then slowly climb out the passenger door side and follow Harry into the convienence store. The sky is a pale pink, the sun is about to peek over the horizon. “Where are we?” I ask as we get to the door. “Colorado city. Just over an hour til Mesquite.” Harry replies. I never got a good look of him til now that we’re under the fluorescent lighting of the store. He has green eyes and a chiseled jaw and his hair is curly under his trucker hat. I’m pulled away from daydreaming about how he’d look while on top of me. How long was I asleep? I wonder down the aisle to look for a clock In the store and see one above the hallway to the storage and bathroom area, 5 am exact. The banks probably wont be open til 8am, So I’d have to kill an hour or so in Mesquite. I head to the bathroom and open the door and am met with a pungent smell and flickering light. Absolutely not! I will not be peeing in here.

I close the door and go to look for Harry who’s in the freezer food aisle. “Is there somewhere else I can go to the bathroom?” I whisper as I catch up to him “what’s wrong with the bathroom here?” He smirks. “It’s gross” i pout. Harry turns around again, “sugar, you’re living on the road, you can’t be picky about where you go.” Easy for you to say I think to myself “you’re a man, you can stand and pee” I whisper shout. The worker is watching us as we’re the only customers in here so early.

“Okay hold on. I’ll help you out, just looking for a couple snacks to fill my fridge” I stand and watch as he continues to grab a couple more items. A box of granola bars, a bag of plain chips, a jug of water, A couple frozen meals. “Grab something to snack on. my treat.” I look around the aisle but can only think of needing the bathroom right now. I grab a chocolate bar and follow him to the till.

“Can I also grab some disinfectanting wipes please.” Harry requests as the cashier bends down and grabs a packet of Lysol wipes.

Harry looks at the chocolate bar I put on the counter. “Is that going to fill you?” I nod with a smile and continue to hop from one foot to the other. Harry rolls his eyes at me and pays the man then grabs his bags and then ushers me to the back of the room by the hallway. He places his bags on the pile of newspaper sitting outside the bathroom door and grabs the Lysol wipes then kicks the bathroom door open with his boot and I follow. Harry then opens the Lysol packet and wipes the lightswitch, the sink taps, and the soap dispenser, discards the used wipe. He then pulls out a couple more and wipes the toilet lid, the handle, the seat, and then lifts the seat and continues to wipe the rim and around it. He again discards the used wipe, then repeats the process again.

“I’ll wait outside the door for you, but the toilet seat is clean.” Harry washes his hands wipes them on his jeans then locks the door before leaving me alone in the bathroom.

The light still flickers on and off so I’m quick to pull my pants down and half squat over the toilet. I know, I know he spent his time cleaning the toilet just for me but I’m just not convinced it’s clean unless I personally get to pull out all the strong chemicals needed to make it sparkle. I wash my hands and head out the door after using a paper towel to pull the handle.

Harry is leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed holding the grocery bags when I get out. “Better?” He asks as he raises his eyebrows, I nod and thank him then follow after him as he walks out of the store.

We hop back in the truck, I sit in the passenger seat as Harry sits behind me on his bed and stocks up his fridge and uses the same bag afterwards to discard any old food and empty containers on his counter and fridge.

“Where are you headed after this again?” I turn to ask as I try to make conversation but I also genuinely can’t remember. Maybe all the stress from yesterday is the reason I’m unable to retain information. “Montana.” Harry ties his garbage bag and makes a beeline for his door and hops out. Oh right, Montana for a car then Oregon then he’s off for a few days. Busy guy.

I should’ve stayed in the bathroom longer to wash the sleep off my face or tried to tidy up my appearance better. I can’t function in day old clothes, I packed another outfit but that’s all I got aside from some essentials and a swim suit. I mean when I was rushing to grab everything I was planning to shop when I got to California to fit in with the locals but now that I’m sat here I should have grabbed at least one more outfit. “Alright, I’m going to piss on the side of the road then we’re good to go.” I nod my head before yawning again and watch as Harry heads to the back of the truck.

The sunrise is beautiful as we continue on the road. “What time do you think the banks open in Mesquite?” I ask. I reach behind me to grab my duffle and look around til I find my hairbrush. “I’d say they’d be open by 8am? That’s just my guess.” Harry replies.

I brush my hair then dig around in my bag to see the outfit I can put together for today. A tight white long sleeve and black jeans. I mean i guess it can work, i don’t know what i was thinking? Black jeans at the beach? I’ll definitely need to shop for some more comfortable clothes while I’m there.

“Can I change in the back?” Harry nods and shows me where the curtain clips are so I have privacy.

Once dressed I put my shoes back on and hop in the passenger seat again and tuck my items in my duffle.

The roads start to fill up more with other motorists as the sun continues to rise.

“Ya know, this is just an idea. I feel like it’ll be shot down but have been thinking to ask anyways. Are you in a big rush to get to California?” Harry asks as he turns to look at me.

“Uh, well no. I was just going off of impulsivity the last what 24 hours. I guess now I’m going with the flow since I don’t really have a life waiting for me anymore.” Harry nods his head before using his left hand to rub his lower lip. “Well, I’m going to be there in less than a week. What do you think of you coming along with me? Save yourself some travel money that way too.”

I was taken aback by the offer. “You want me to, stay? I won’t be in the way?” I ask incredulously. I mean, if it were with someone I knew it would be a good road trip but we’re complete strangers.

“I, I mean I guess we can try it? If anything changes you can drop me off at the nearest greyhound.” with my voice laced with uncertainty I try my best to go with the flow. From my regular life which is written and highlighted on a calendar (I once followed it so strictly I even planned nights to have sex) to complete disregard with what happens in the next 10 minutes. I feel like I can be at ease finally. Maybe all the years of being wound so tightly have finally unraveled.

Harry drops me off at my bank with the promise of coming back with breakfast from a diner across the street. I enter and I am greeted immediately by a kind lady who listens to my tale of woe (lost my wallet) she tries her best to argue with her manager who very kindly tells me that I can’t access my funds with only a passport and no other form of ID and would need to do so at my home branch.

Feeling dejected I thank them for their time and go to sit on the bench out front and wait for Harry to return.

Maybe this is the sign I’ve been waiting for all this time. I should’ve just walked towards my place and hitched a ride that way and fixed up my life or kicked out my boyfriend instead of dragging Harry into my messed up situation. He’s not going to want to have to pay for me and he shouldn’t have to. I was hoping to surprise him with a nice little wad of cash as a way of saying thanks for the ride. Guess I have to find another way home.

10 minutes later Harry’s truck pulls into the back end of the parking lot and I pick up my duffle bag to walk towards him with bad news.

“Hey what’s with the sour face sweetheart?” Harry hollers from his window.

I walk right up to his side and look up and use my hand as a visor to block the sun from my eyes.

“They can’t let me take out any money. I need to go home to my regular branch and they can pull my info there. I can’t go with you”

I can feel my eyes start to water at the idea of having to risk hitchhiking again. This time I’m sure nothing good will come of it. How often do you get a nice stranger 2 times in a row.

Harry opens his door and hops out the truck with a slam of his door.

“Why can’t you come with me?”

“I have no money. No clean clothes” I look down to kick at the gravel.

“Still no reason why you can’t come. I’ll pay for your food and I can buy you some clothes. I mean they won’t be brand name labels from a big fancy mall but I’m sure we can find some clothing stores around here maybe a thrift store, a Walmart even.”

I look up at him “you shouldn’t have to pay for me Harry. I can’t really pay you back not right away anyways.” My tears begin to streak down my face, I’ve always been a quiet crier.

“Hey now, none of that. You can stay with me free of charge. Wouldn’t have taken a cent from you anyways. Pretty girls shouldn’t have to pay for anything. Come on I got breakfast it’s waiting for ya in the truck. Eat first then decide.”

I nod my head and Harry grabs my duffle from my hands and leads me by the small of my back to the passenger door. After I sit down, Harry stands on the steps on my side and reaches for my seatbelt and buckles me in, then places my duffle gently at my feet before jumping down and closing my door.

Two take away plates sit on the dashboard and Harry hops in when I notice them. “Ones an omelette with hash browns. The other is strawberry waffles with whipped topping. And fruit on the side. Pick whichever one you want.” I’ve never had someone order for me before. Nobody knows what I like, but I do like omelettes.

Both plates empty. Harry gathers the garbage and I watch as he walks across the parking lot to a gas station where he puts it in a garbage bin beside the gas pumps.

I feel like going home is still the best option for me. Go home and figure out living arrangements. Do laundry. Wash the walls. Take down every picture hung up that reminds me of my ex boyfriend.

“So?” Harry asks as he opens his door and plops down in the drivers seat. He looks at me with a smile, places his hand on my knee and shakes it. “What did ya decide, Are you coming with me?” He has such a kind face and His smile is contagious. “I uhm, I… I guess? If you’ll have me I mean and if I become a nuisance then please kick me to the curb first chance.” I don’t know why I said that. Guess I’m a sucker for a pretty face too. “Good. I didn’t want to have to lose hours driving you back home.”

“You were going to drive me home? What about your deliveries. Don’t you have a tight schedule?”

I watch as he presses all the buttons and readjusts his rear view mirror then glances at his paper map quickly. “The right thing to do would be to take you home. Come on let’s go deliver this equipment just on the other side of town”

On the road headed north, I fold my legs and sit cross legged as I stare out the passenger window. “there’s a motel in Cedar City we’re going to stay at. You can wash your clothes and shower, We’ll stay there for the night And start fresh tomorrow. In the morning I’ll take you shopping for a couple outfits.” I nod my head and continue to eat one of Harry’s muffins.

Over the last few hours together ive learned more about Harry. His mother runs a pottery shop (although she mostly teaches it now) back home and he visits her regularly, grew up with a sister who’s now married, his dads the one who taught him how to drive a semi, and his best friend lives in Spokane and occasionally he stays with him and his end goal is to save up enough for a house on the west coast somewhere close to him.

All of it sounds lovely and I think somewhere in the northwest would be great for settling down.

I wait in the truck as Harry’s in the lobby paying for our room. I reach behind and grab all my snacks including the wrappers from the ones I ate and stuff them into the plastic bag they came in, tie it and then stuff it into my duffle bag. I wiggle my shoes back on just in time for Harry to open my door. “Cmon they gave us room 211, there’s a mini bar” he winks.

I follow behind as Harry carries my bag and his backpack and we trot up the stairs and make our way to 211. The motel is fairly clean and there is a outdoor pool with a large blow up flamingo floaty sitting in it waiting to be played with.

Harry uses the key and unlocks the door and tosses my bag on the double bed closest to the bathroom. “Whichever bed you prefer, I’ll take the other” Harry offers as he shuffles his boots off. I walk toward the bed and sit on it to test it out. Cushiony but firm.

“There’s a laundromat just on the other side of the motel but we’ll have to go out and get change I guess they don’t have a working change machine. I’ll take you to grab some stuff in a bit just need to rest my eyes quick.”

Harry grabs hold of the extra pillow beside him and tucks it into himself, turns over and is out like a light.

I decide now would be the best time to shower so I grab my duffle and walk towards the back. There’s two housecoats hanging up in the tiny closet and I grab one then lock the bathroom door.

The mini shampoo, conditioner, and bar of soap is barely enough to wash my hair and body but I make do with half the bottle of each incase Harry decides to shower after me. I rip the slim soap bar in half and lather it up in my hands before soaping myself up.

The shampoo doesn’t lather how I would’ve liked it but it gets the job done and it smells very citrus-y.

I dry myself off with the towel sat on the rack behind the toilet and throw my hair into a twist ontop of my head and wrap myself up in the housecoat, grab my belongings and move everything to my bed.

Harry is still passed out, snoring quietly but at least he kicked his boots off before covering himself with his throw blanket.

It’s only 4:30 pm when I hear Harry shuffling around to face me before yawning. He must’ve got about nine hours of sleep since we first pulled into cedar city and all this time I’ve been rotting on my bed still in my housecoat, flipping through random channels with the remote on mute.

“Did you get any sleep?” Harry asks before rubbing his face with his hands. “A bit, I think I passed out around 2? Just woke up maybe 30 mins ago was a nice nap.” He nods his head before groaning then stretching and then he hoists himself out of bed. “I’m going to shower then we can go out if you want? I should at least get you some dinner, I know I could go for a nice meal.”

I nod “ I’d love some dinner, but I don’t have any clean clothes..” I’m still stark naked under my housecoat and blanket it of course I don’t say that aloud. “Oh right, well I can run and get some change for the laundry, but I’d rather take you shopping I’ve thought about what I was going to do today and I have a couple errands to run while we’re here, including checking on a few friends of mine down at the pub, Is that okay sweetheart?” I push my blanket off and hop out of bed. Harry grabs his backpack with him to the bathroom and starts the shower.

I rummage through and find my grey sweats and tight white long sleeve. Normally I can’t stand to wear the same clothes after a shower but I feel like if I go commando underneath then maybe it won’t be as bad? I forgo the undies and beige bra for now til I get some new ones or clean ones I put everything back in my bag and zip it up. Actually I should put on some deodorant as well.

Harry walks out of the bathroom wearing only his jeans and his hair still wet. “Don’t mind me, s’too hot in that tiny bathroom. Too steamy as well” I pretend I didn’t see his tattoo littered body and quickly look down at the hotel pamphlet I was holding that said “top 10 restaurants in cedar city” he tosses his backpack on the floor by his bed. “I’ll finish getting dressed and let’s head out”

Harry pulls up to a Walmart and parks near the back of the parking lot, we’re walking when he chirps up “oh, here, I’ll give you some money. Idk how much women’s products are but make sure you get everything you may need like I don’t know, shampoo stuff and makeup or whatever.” He pulls out a wad of cash from his wallet and thumbs through the bills passing the ones, fives, and twenties. He passed me three hundred “if you need more then come find me, I’ll probably be in the automotive section or men’s clothing” idk what to say, three hundred seems like so much but I guess he’s right I should stock up and everything i would’ve bought myself when I first planned on leaving. “Thank you so much Harry idk how I’ll ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me.” Harry smiles softly “it’s okay just happy to have someone around”

I grab a cart when we first arrive and Harry grabs a basket then we go our separate ways. I head towards the beauty section and grab myself some shampoo, conditioner, body scrub, loofah, moisturizer. Then I make my way over to the clothing section and rummage through and grab a few basic items. Tops, bottoms, undies, a couple bras, a hoodie and decide last minute to grab a new bikini. At the checkout I grab a few magazines to read either in the truck or at the hotel I should’ve looked in the book section but maybe Harry will take me to a bookstore somewhere nearby if I ask.

The grand total is $144. I bag everything up and then decide to head towards the parts of the store he said he might be. I run into him in the automotive section like he said, his basket filled with a few random items I couldn’t even name if I tried. he’s chatting up a blonde woman who’s leaning against the aisle of car fresheners and apparently thinks everything he says is the funniest thing ever as she blinks her long black mascara covered lashes at him.

I slowly walk up to them with my cart, he still hasn’t even noticed me as he continues to hit on her. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, he’s allowed to hit on other women I mean he’s not my boyfriend. But yet I still feel this little bit of anger bubble inside me as I decide to tap him lightly on the leg with my cart. “Found you. I’m done, think I got everything” I look him in the eyes and then dart them towards the woman standing opposite him quickly at the end. “Oh, here. I’ll be right out.” Harry hands me the keys and I quickly turn my cart around and head towards the entrance.

Settled in the truck with my bags tied up on the bed in the back after pushing my cart back into the cart return, I kick off my shoes and pull out one of my magazines to flip through as I wait for Mr flirt to get back.

I know it’s not my business who he talks to but what’s his game plan with that woman? I mean if he wanted to he can’t very well bring her back to the motel with us unless he kicks me out while doing so.

That’s a possibility I never even thought of, he could very well ‘fall in love’ somewhere on this trip and I’d have to find another way to the west coast or home and I mean im not going to get in his way either if he finds his true love out here but then I’m stuck in the same situation of trying to find a ride-

Harry pulls open his door and interrupts my inner monologue thankfully.

“Sorry got distracted there. Did you find everything you need?” I nod my head and purse my lips as I continue to flip through my magazine. I just realized I kept overthinking everything and didn’t actually read anything yet. “Oh here, it only came up to like $144, so here’s what’s left” I ruffle through my pockets for the change. Harry grabs my hand and shakes his head “hey no, just keep it, incase you need something and I’m not around.”

Back at the motel I’m in my house coat again as Harry throws both our dirty clothes in the wash and I get busy taking the tags off all my new items and lay outfits out on the bed. I should’ve got another duffle bag but everything fits neatly aside from what I picked out to wear with enough room for my stuff in the wash. Harry opens the motel door and hands me a couple pamphlets of diners and restaurants around town. “These are all within walking distance of the motel” he states before sitting on his bed.

“You pick, I’m not particular about what I want” I toss them back without even looking at them. Harry looks at the scattered pamphlets in disbelief “are you still in your pissy mood? You’ve had an attitude since we left the store I know there’s something bothering you why not just spit it out?” He collects them and places them neatly on the night stand between us. I quickly turn away from him as I roll my eyes but don’t notice the mirror opposite me that gave me away. “Don’t roll your eyes, just talk to me.” I grab my clothes and turn to go change in the bathroom.

Once the doors closed I feel my eyes start to water and feel like im overthinking and overreacting. He’s been such a kind person to me and continues to be so why should I give him the cold shoulder just because my delusions think I own him. I quickly dress into a white button up long sleeve, not bothering with a bra again, (honestly sitting in my bra all day has made indents in my skin and it’s more comfy not wearing one) and blue jeans and wash my face with cold water to help mask my tears and take a few breaths.

After a few minutes I open the door and hang my housecoat in the closet before turning to Harry. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me, maybe I’m more tired then I thought. You can pick where we eat.”

Seeming to accept my apology and excuse of being overtired. Harry says a quiet okay an gets up to grab his boots and I follow behind him to leave the room.

We give the washer some more time before we leave the motel. That way one of us can switch the load to the dryer once it’s ready and will have a longer time to get supper.

Thirty minutes pass, I offer to switch the clothes and Harry locks up the room then leads the way towards the restaurant he’s chosen for us this evening.

The walk is quiet but peaceful, the sun slowly trying to set amongst the mountainous terrain as the sky turns purple then blue with tiny sparkly stars trying their best to shine through. We pull up to a pub called the hose and hound. “They have good wings and the beer selection is decent” Harry speaks the for the first time since leaving the motel. I nod my head and follow in after him.

“Harry! Long time no see, haven’t seen your mug in damn near almost a year!” A joyous man shouts over the jukebox as he wipes a large beer mug dry before swinging his small towel over his left shoulder.

“Been a bit busy yeah, trying to get the orders done up so I can take some time off before the end of summer”

The man puts the mug behind him on the pantry and leans over to shake hands with Harry. “Marv this here’s my friend Y/N, she’s hitching a ride out to cali” Marv then shakes my hand before kissing the back of it “nice to meet you miss Y/N, what can I get you?”

I look around at what everyone else is drinking and notice it’s not catered as much towards women so I ask for a rum and coke as I’m not much of a drinker and usually go off the drinks menu when ordering colourful cocktails.

“Coming right up, Harry the usual?” Harry nods and holds my hand as he walks us over to a booth by the window. A waitress walks over and slides us each a menu, Harry lets her know that Marv already took our drink order and she winks at him with a “I’ll be back to take your orders handsome” and she walks away with an extra swing in her hips.

Harry seems to notices and doesn’t care as he picks up his menu.

For a pub there’s a surprising amount of dishes and sides to order. I’m not as hungry as I should be I feel like guilt is still weighing me down. Harry’s been nothing but kind and patient with me and the first chance I get I bark at him? No wonder my ex cheated.

Harry excitedly talks about his favourite dishes he orders when he drives through this town and decides to settle on a nacho platter for us to split and chicken thigh with mashed potatoes for his main meal. I agree to the nachos and ask for a chicken ceaser salad.

“Is that going to fill you love?” Harry asks as I put my menu down. “Yeah, I’m not very hungry still.”

Harry reaches over and strokes my hand “something’s bothering you pet I can sense it.”

I look up at him through my lashes and then dart my eyes down as I fiddle with my fingers folded ontop of the menu. “It’s silly. Really I don’t know what I was thinking” I smile trying to drop the subject but Harry wasn’t having it. “If it’s bothering you it’s not silly, let me help you.” I bite my lower lip just as the waitress arrives with our drinks and takes our order and menus. “I think.. maybe, I was jealous earlier and it kind of made me feel like I don’t matter to you and it brought up my feelings I spent the whole day trying to forget.” Harry furrows his brows as he tries to think of what I could be jealous over. “ are you jealous of the waitress? She winks at all the truckers here, I imagine she does it to get good tips.” Harry exasperates with a chuckle.

“No, not her. Uhm the uh, the girl in Walmart earlier. She looked at you like you hung the moon until I arrived anyways. I just, I know I don’t have a right to have these feelings over you because we’re not together, but I just I don’t know… it’s been nice imagining a relationship where it’s just us, and I don’t want to make this weird between us because I’m really appreciative that you decided to bring me along I just, I just want to get it off my chest I guess. Because it has been bothering me” I sigh. He’s been looking at me so intently as I rant and I immediately want to crawl under a rock. I bite my lip as I wait for him to respond, I take a large swig of my drink thinking of a exit strategy where he can give me the motel key so I can run back and hop in bed hoping to be asleep by the time he’s back but instead he lightly laughs before shaking his head. “Love, she was just talking about semi’s with me. Her dad owns a shop that specializes in semi repair that’s it. We’re talking about my truck babe, the brakes are squealing and they’re brand new they shouldn’t be doing that. That’s all we were talking about, she looked like that because she was happy to talk her dad up and gained a customer that’s it” “oh I see” is all I can reply with. I mean I just basically admitted to possibly having feelings for this guy right to his face and he’s chuckling like I didn’t just bare my emotions to him.

Harry lightly draws on the back of my hand before interlocking our fingers together. “And I like you too by the way, you’re braver than me though I’ll give you that. I nearly pissed myself asking you to stay with me til I get to Cali I was hoping to ask you out proper earlier but didn’t know how to form the words in a way that didn’t scare you off” He states. I’m at a loss for words as he admits to liking me too. I mean that’s such a big weight off my shoulders after he tells me that. “You were going to ask me out?” I ask in disbelief. “Well, yeah. I mean I know you’re not looking for a relationship so soon so I didn’t want to push and risk freaking you out. But I think you’re pretty and I feel like we’d be a good match for each other… what do you say?” I nod my head eagerly “yes I’ll go out with you” I laugh “I guess you can say this is our first date then” Harry smiles.

Marv keeps our glasses filled as the night goes on, our waitress has gone home.The salad is more filling than anticipated and the nachos were amazing.

The pub starts to clear out as the night grows darker. Marv plays some slow country ballads. Harry bounces his leg with the beat and hums along, and I organize our plates so it’s easier for the busboy to carry I imagine Harry’s as buzzed as I am. The waitress comes by with some cold glasses of water and the bill which Harry slides a few bills ontop of “come on dance with me before we head back” “no Harry I don’t know how to dance” I protest but stand from my seat anyways. Harry shakes his head and furrows his brow “come love, it’s easy just follow my step. I want to dance with the prettiest girl here” I look around and notice almost no one’s here. “I’m the only girl here Harry that’s hardly a compliment” I argue but take his hand and follow him to the dance floor near the jukebox.

Harry pulls me closer to him til our chests are touching, he pulls my right hand into his left and his left hand he puts around my waist and settles on the lower of my back. The music is slow and all the other guests seem to in their own world at their seats nodding their heads and tapping their feet. I only had 3 rum and cokes and Harry had 3 glasses of beer. Both of us feeling light as feather but in reality I bet our dancing is so off.

Harry grabs my chin with his pointer finger and lifts it to look up at him and we lock eyes as the song comes to an end. Just as I’m about to pull away, Harry leans down and kisses me gently on the lips and I lean into the kiss. Harry lets go of my body and cups my face with both hands as he then kisses me harder this time. “Let’s get outta here” he whispers and I nod.

Harry grabs my hand as he makes his way to Marv at the bar. “Great food and atmosphere as always Marv. Keep it up! Well catch you again next time we’re in town” Harry shakes Marvs hand and pulls him into a slight hug over the countertop. Marv waves bye to me and blows me a kiss that Harry catches instead and we all laugh as Harry places the kiss on his own cheek.

On the walk home both of us dragging our feet, Harry points to random places along the way. Shops he likes to frequent when he has more than an night off, a bookstore, a pet store that has a pet monkey who’s no longer for sale and is part of the staff, and a camera shop where he usually buys his film as he likes to take shots of nature on the highway.

We make our way to our room before remembering our clothes in the dryer, I follow Harry as he picks up our clothes and notice our laundry basket was stolen. No big deal though it belongs to the motel but it’s a hassle having to carry it all in our arms without dropping anything.

Once inside and the doors shut and locked we toss our clothes in a pile on the extra bed by the bathroom, Harry turns to grab my face in both his hands and kisses me. Softly at first maybe to test the waters before he deepens it and nudges my mouth open with his tongue. Beer coating his breath he moves us close to the edge of his bed by the window Harry roams my body with his hands, stopping for a moment at my hips before moving his right hand up to cup my right breast. “Been fucking teasing me all evening with these nipples. Could see them poking out of your shirt at the pub. Damn near could see the colour and outline and everything.” Harry whispers against my lips before using his hand to lift my shirt up and over my breasts. He then leans down and licks then sucks my right nipple then moves to the left and does the same, only this time nipping at my left.

I bite my lip as the feeling sends a spark down to my clit and I buck towards him slightly.

Harry stands up lifting my shirt off completely before tossing it behind on the floor. Next he dips his fingers into my jeans and shimmies them down with my underwear and helps me step out of them. “Lay down on the bed for me baby” he puts his hand on my chest as he pushes me backwards and I sit on the end of bed before pulling myself more centre.

Harry unbuttons his shirt in the mean time not once breaking eye contact with me as I lay down and look up at him. He unbuckles his belt next then crawls onto the bed and hooks his hands under my thighs til he grabs hold of my hips and pulls me closer towards him til my pussy is right front of his face. “Wait, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want..” I tell him, as I move my hand to cup myself but Harry grabs onto my hand and holds it down beside me. “I’m going to eat your pussy. I’m going to make it messy. And you’re going to be a good girl and let me.” I whisper out an okay as Harry then licks a strip up then down before delving his tongue in and going straight for my clit. I haven’t experienced this before, my ex wasn’t a big fan of making me cum so to have someone who’s so eager to devour me is a whole new experience that feels so thrilling.

Harry holds down my hips from bucking towards his face as I greedily want his tongue deeper. He then moves his hand from under me and uses two fingers to slide between my folds and hold me open as he uses his tongue to circle my clit before sucking it, I moan loudly as I use my hands to grab onto my breasts, playing with my hardened nipples as he uses those same fingers to push inside me as he hooks his middle finger up to press on my gspot just under my clit. “Im going to cum, I’m going to cum please” I chant as I try wiggle away from his mouth not wanting to squirt in his face. Harry keeps his assault on my clit steady as I moan and cum all over his mouth and the sheets.

“Told you I’d make it messy baby” he proudly claims as he climbs up my body kissing me on the hipbone, then my bellybutton, my left breast, my collarbone, then my lips. I slowly come down from my climax, my breathing returning to normal. “Thank you” I whisper against his lips as he litters my mouth with kisses. Still on top of me Harry then reaches down and holds my knee to the side as he then moves back to kneel between my legs. My hands are rubbing down my body caressing every point he kissed as he reaches into his wallet in his back pocket and pulls out a condom. He pulls himself out of his jeans and wiggles his boxers down and I watch as his he rolls the condom onto his lengthy cock. My mouth waters at the idea of sucking it, maybe someday if not tonight.

Harry then leans down and lines himself up with my core tapping the tip of his cock against my budding clit before sliding it down and inside me. I close my eyes as I feel the burning stretch of him filling me up. I grab hold of his sides with my hands, my fingertips slightly digging in as he continues to push in, my walls adjusting to his size as they pulse around him. Harry sighs as he dives his head into the pillow beside my head. He stills himself as if he’s silently asking if im okay for him to move, I nod my head like I’m reading his mind and whimper “I’m okay” he then pulls out and this time is faster as he pushes himself in.

He holds onto my head with his right hand as he pumps himself in and out of my weeping hole, moaning in my ear to “take it like a good girl” I hold myself in place by gripping his back with my nails I can feel myself ready to cum again already. I whimper “please don’t stop I’m almost there..” as I purposefully squeeze his cock with my pussy but just then he lets go of my head and pushes himself up and pulls out.

I reach out to grab him but he grabs my hand and places it on my tummy. “Turn around face down ass up” I do as I’m told as quickly as I can and Harry grabs hold of my hips as he lines himself up again. “You ever been fucked in this tight hole before?” Harry asks as he traces a circle with his thumb. “No, but I’ve always wanted to try” I say as I try to look at him. Harry then guides himself back into my weeping hole and the delicious burn of his thick cock filling me has me closing my eyes again as I try to concentrate on getting my orgasm back.

“Well we’ll save that for another night. Don’t want to be greedy with you just yet baby”

Harry keeps a rhythmed pace as he continues to fuck me from behind using his hands to guide my hips to smash back onto him. I can feel my orgasm growing again, this time leading my own hand underneath me between my legs to my clit to rub tight little circles with my ring and middle finger “that’s a good girl, come on my cock baby” Harry urges as he quickens the pace, seeming to be chasing his own high. I moan loudly as I cum, my body shaking as I squirt and I bring my fingers to my mouth to lick them clean. Harry follows quick with a few hard grunts and moans as I feel himself still inside me filling up the condom.

I move to push myself up by my arms as Harry leans down and litters my neck with kisses down my spine. He pulls out and I’m left feeling empty as he then ties a knot in the condom and tosses it in the trash under the nightstand. I kneel on the bed, suddenly becoming more aware of my surroundings, the sheets are soaked underneath me but Harry still climbs into bed next to me before pulling my arm to lay beside him. Our breathing erratic as we try to catch our breath.

“So…” Harry starts. “So…” I copy. Harry runs his finger up and down my arm “so, what are you thinking?” He asks quietly. The only light in the room coming from the old lampshade that flickers with a buzzing sound. “I think, if you continue to fuck me like that, then I’ll follow you anywhere.” I chuckle before looking at Harry. He grabs hold of my neck gently with his free hand and pulls me into a kiss.

“Deal.”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik turns 50. TF 141 throw him a surprise party. (As the author continues to build their voices and headcanons in his head.)

cw: none.

“I can't believe Nik’s going to be fifty next week. The man's aging like a fine wine. It must be something in the water over there.”

It had been a fairly innocuous comment by Laswell over one of their frequent phone calls, but it had sent Price into an unfathomable tailspin.

Fifty.

Fifty was a big birthday where Price came from. The kind where the extended family, and wider community around them, were invited to a village hall for an old fashioned knees up, and you ended up carrying your uncle Rodney home so your aunt didn't smother him with a throw pillow after he pissed all over the doorstep.

Price had never really thought much about the families and wider lives of his contacts. They got the job done and then they parted ways. In every sense, a contact held the same position in Price's mind as the weapon in his hand; a tool to be used and then set aside once you were done.

But Nik… Nik was becoming more than a contact. A lot more. Price knew there was no uncle Rodney for Nik. There was no family whatsoever. No one special to mark half a century with, except maybe… fuck.

Price didn't share scotch with just anyone, let alone pass his cigar over for them to take a toke. As much as he respected Laswell, he was never inclined to spend hours with her chattin’ shit, until the sun broke through the blinds and they both had to slam some black coffee so they looked remotely presentable for their operators. His hand never lingered on anyone else's carrier vest, and no one else's voice made warmth and light curl in his chest.

No one else slotted against Price's... everything quite like Nikolai.

Price wasn't stupid. He knew what these signs meant, but that didn't mean he had any idea what the fuck to do about them. It was safer to just… be, too cowardly to progress any further. And yet, this felt like a milestone somehow.

“Captain, are you there? John?”

“Rog, yeah�� uh. Continue.”

By the time Price had hung up, he had resolved to do something to mark Nik’s birthday. Laswell had coughed up the exact date and then slyly asked why Price was so interested. Her tone suggested she already had a hunch. “141 tradition,” he'd said, before hanging up. Rude, but she'd cope.

He finished some paperwork and turned in for the night, but sleep didn't come easy. His plans played out across the dark ceiling above his head and each time he settled on a course of action, he picked a hundred holes in it and cast it aside.

“Buy him a bottle of vodka and put a bow on your prick,” Simon said over eggs and bacon. The majority of the base was still asleep, with only a few other troopers skulking around the canteen.

Price choked on his gulp of tea and thumped his chest. “Classy, Simon.”

“You’ve been dancin’ round each other for years,” Simon murmured, rubbing at the stubble below the line of his mask. “Best time as any to pull the trigger.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black,” Price said as he stabbed at the bacon on his plate to emphasise each word.

“Fuck off,” Simon grumbled, “sir.”

Price snorted a laugh and they finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence. After a session in the gym, a myriad of brain-numbing meetings and supervising some training runs, Price was no closer to shaking out of his decision paralysis. If they were on mission he could have hashed out a plan without taking a breath, but he… didn't want to fuck this up. It felt too important.

Price was left with no choice but to consult professionals.

“Surprise party,” Soap said gleefully, chucking his playing cards onto the coffee table. “In th’ hanger, we invite him over tae ‘discuss an op’,” Soap lifted his fingers to emphasise the spoken quotation marks, “get Laswell tae send the invite.”

Gaz nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, then he won't suspect anything - oh, oh, I've got Farah's number, we can get her in on it. She’ll know if he’ll want anyone else, and… uh, you know, we’ll get clearance.”

“Right,” Price leaned back, arms folded over his chest. “So, what… we need food, and cake.”

“Aye, sir,” Soap said, squinting. “And booze. Gaz an’ I'll sort the logistics, and ye jus’ need tae sort the pressie.”

“We’re on it, sir. Leave it to us.”

The present. Price could do that. No worries.

Two days later, he stared down at the forty item long Amazon wishlist he had titled “Operation Black Hawk” and had no idea what to get. Something that walked the line of funny but sentimental, that said ‘you’re hot as fuck but I'm not desperate but I absolutely wank over you in the shower’.

“Fuckin Christ,” Price whispered at this office ceiling, slouched deep in his chair. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to quiet but for thoughts of Nik. Think, think.

So many conversations, ice tinkling against glass, low chuckles and borish jokes; a warm palm on Price’s shoulder and a smile so toothy it was contagious. Endless memories of time at Nik’s side. There had been that summer Nik had come fishing with him. Just a few days of peace before they both returned to the field. Nik had snoozed through most of it, exhausted by their previous mission, but in between he had surveyed the lake, watching the insects flit across the water.

“Poprygun'ya strekoza, leto krasnoye propela,” Nikolai had murmured.

“Cursing my ancestors?” Price had asked before gulping down a mouthful of beer.

Nik had chuckled. “Nyet, captain. It means a playful prankish Dragonfly, the whole summer have sung out. It is a poem by Ivan Karylov. One of my favourites.”

“Yeah? What's it about?”

“It is a fable...”

“Oh bloody hell, not another Russian morality lesson.”

“Pssh, this is good one. You will like it,” Nik had sat up in his camping chair. “It is about a beautiful dragonfly who spends her summer dancing and resting, while the hardworking ant prepares. When winter comes, she begs the ant for help, but he refuses, because he worked hard and she did not.”

“Harsh but fair. Work hard, play hard, them’s the rules..”

“You see, I knew you would like it. You are an ant. You earn your rest. This,” Nik had gestured at fishing tackle, the camping equipment, and the lake, “is the fruit of your labour, and I am privileged to share it with you, my friend.”

“And I you, mate.”

They had knocked their bottles together and moments later one of Price’s reels had begun spinning out. By that point they'd drunk so much that landing the damn carp had left them both up to their knees in lake water, pissing themselves laughing on the bank. It had been both the worst and best fishing expedition of Price’s life.

Price opened his eyes in the present and grinned at the ceiling, digging his phone out of his pocket. He knew exactly what he was going to get Nik.

The rest of the week sprinted by quicker than a RAF pilot on his way to a champagne dinner, and before he knew it Price was standing on a rickety plastic chair hanging a bloody banner from a rusty nail high on the hanger wall.

“It's wonky, cap,” Gaz said just as Price was climbing down.

“I think you'll find your eyes are wonky, sergeant.”

“Of course, sir. I'll get that sorted.”

Price pressed his hands to the small of his back and glanced around at the preparations. The sergeants had done well. Soap had even managed to draft Simon in on the booze run and there was a healthy selection of spirits on the buffet table by the birthday cake. It was a Colin Caterpillar from Marks and Spencers, one of Nik's favourite shops to visit when he was in the UK, with a joke candle stuck in the top that he wouldn't be able to blow out. Soap's idea.

The majority of Chimera had turned up to mark the occasion, as had a few faces Price recognised from previous ops with other organisations and task forces. Soap had said a few didn't quite pass the bar for security clearance, which wasn't surprising.

It was just as Gaz and Soap were bickering over the playlist that they heard the telltale drum of helicopter blades beat overhead. “Places, places!” Soap crowed from the hanger door, slamming the lights off. Booted feet scuttled across the dusty floor to find hiding places behind the vehicles and crates stacked around the edges, and Price joined Soap by the door.

Several minutes passed, and then… “And you have no idea where the weapons store is?”

“None at all, Nik. Price should have more intel,” Laswell replied. She had rendezvoused with Nik in Germany as part of the plan. Her wife was currently squatting behind a crate with Gaz.

“I hope so or this will be a difficult mission.”

Soap was practically vibrating at Price's shoulder as Nik rounded the corner. He slammed on the lights and everyone erupted from their hiding places on cue. Price didn't miss how Nik’s hand dropped for his sidearm, his eyes blown wide.

“Laswell, what is–?”

“Happy birthday, Nikolai,” she said, walking by to plant a kiss on her wife's cheek.

“I–” Nik glanced around the hanger as he accepted hugs from Gaz and Syd, handshakes from others, still bewildered. “How–?”

“It was th’ captain's idea,” Soap said, jutting his chin at Price. “He told us ye were hittin’ the big five-oh, old man. Ye not gettin’ off that easy.”

“Here, drink,” Simon grunted, pressing a glass into Nik's hand. “I'm startin’ the food, Johnny. I've been patient.”

“Aye, L.T. Bust open th’ sarnies. Farah, th’ ones on the left are halal - aye, bet.”

Nik was drawn into conversation briefly and Price hung back, glancing at the badly wrapped parcel he'd stashed on top of an empty oil container. He was so focused on his internal misgivings that Nik’s hand on his elbow made him startle. “Oi, give me a bloody heart attack…”

“You did this?”

“MacTavish and Garrick did this,” Price said.

Nik, who knew that the 141 did nothing without Price's express permission, grinned toothily. They stood in silence as he surveyed the many faces scattered around the hanger, some shoving sandwiches in their faces while others swigged from freshly open bottles. “I… have never had a birthday party before.”

“What? Not even as a kid?”

Nik shrugged one shoulder. “Nyet, it was not a… priority.” He looked back at Price, dark eyes heavy with something complex and unreadable. “Thank you.”

Price swallowed and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “You're uh… you're welcome, I… got you something. But, uh…” Before he could wuss out, Price grabbed the poorly wrapped parcel and shoved it into Nik's hands. “Happy birthday.”

Nik set his glass aside. “Your wrapping skills are…”

“Bloody fantastic.”

“...unique.”

“I'll take it.”

Nik huffed a laugh as he tore the brown paper away and flipped the book over in his hands. Price was relieved to see his face brighten. “Aesop’s fables. Captain, this is beautiful…”

To be fair, it was a damn pretty book. The hardcover was illustrated with the animals from the fables, the pages edged in gold, and the inside cover was patterned. You know… posh. And then Nik found the second part, tucked about a quarter of the way through. It was a photograph from their fishing expedition. A rough selfie, with half a fish head in shot where Nik was trying to display their catch, and Price’s face smeared with mud from where he had stumbled onto the bank.

Nik's eyes lingered on it, his fingertips brushing over their grinning faces, and he swallowed.

Price panicked. “I'm sorry, it's shit, I'll uhm–”

Nik pulled him into an embrace that crushed the air from his lungs. There was definitely a stutter in Nik’s chest, and Price wrapped his arms around him in return. If he happened to turn his nose into Nik's neck, and Nik happened to press his face a little closer, then that was fine. More than fine.

Price's toes curled in his boots, his fingers tightened in Nik’s shirt, the aching in his chest becoming that much harder to ignore. “You alright?”

“Da,” Nik said tightly. “I just need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” Price murmured, closing his eyes as he cradled Nik against him. He didn't mark the time, happy to revel in the warmth of the solid body in his arms, and the smell of Nik's skin, pressed so close Price could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

When Nik finally pulled away, slightly reddened eyes lingered on Price’s lips before turning to the rest of the party, who were doing a shitty job of pretending they hadn't all been watching. “Later, I would… like to spend some time with you.”

Price didn't want to examine the heat under his skin too closely, lest it be entirely misplaced. “Course.”

“Nik, get over ‘ere tae blow th’ oot before Ghostie eats yer cake’s face!”

Nik tucked his book under his arm and walked over to the buffet table with Price to a horrifically off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’. Once Nik had worked the candles out, flicking them at Soap with a loud Russian cuss, festivities descended, as they usually did on base, into raucous drinking games and whatever the sergeants decided passed for dancing. Simon lost the Ring of Fire and had to down the filthiest pint Price had ever seen in his life, Laswell thrashed them all at beer pong and Gaz tried to teach Farah how to do the worm. As far as fiftieth birthday parties went, it definitely beat out the village hall knees up.

Later, when the majority of the party had slunk off to dark corners, fallen asleep where they sat or retired in good order, Nik pulled his captain back into his arms and kept him there until the sun rose. Except, this time, they did a damn sight more than talk.

[alotofpockets]

Celebrating you | Kyra Cooney-Cross

Pairing: Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Summary: Celebrating Kyra's birthday.

A/n: Happy birthday to our one and only KCC! Thank you @totaly-obsessed for talking about this fic with me :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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You were busy making Kyra’s favourite breakfast, while she was still sound asleep in your bed. For Valentine’s Day yesterday you had gone out for dinner, so you thought you’d switch it up today, and put the focus on breakfast instead. It wasn’t long until you had the table filled with your girlfriend’s favourites, you checked everything over one last time, wanting everything to be perfect. It was your first time celebrating Kyra’s birthday since you started dating, as well as it had been your first Valentine’s day together yesterday. 

Once you had looked everything over, and were happy with the result, you heard Kyra starting to wake up in the other room. She was stretching her arms out when you walked into the room. “Good morning birthday girl.” You said as you sat down next to her. She smiled and moved her head into your lap, “Good morning.” Her raspy morning voice was like music to your ears, you just loved it so much. “I’ve made your favourites for breakfast.” Her eyes widened, “Hash browns, avocado toast, oh or vegemite on toast?” You smile knowing you have done right by her. “All of the above, my love.” When she realised that you had not made a favourite, but all of her favourites she was quick to get up, faster than you had ever seen her do before.

“Happy birthday, baby, I hope you like breakfast.” You say revealing the table to her. “It’s perfect, thank you.” She reached for your hand and dragged you to the table, not wanting to waste a single moment not enjoying the amazing food that you had made. “This is so good.” She says after every bite of a different dish that she tried, and it was warming your heart how thankful she was for the small gesture. 

The gesture might have seemed small in your eyes, but for Kyra it meant the absolute world. In previous relationships her birthday had just kind of passed by, the excuse being that it was Valentine’s Day the day before, and that was enough celebrating. They either didn’t want to spend money on gifts for separate days, or told her to choose for which one she wanted to do something. The two of you had spent yesterday exchanging gifts, spending time together, and going out for dinner, so Kyra didn’t expect anything today. 

It was when you pulled out a gift from the chair next to you, that her emotions got the best of her. You quickly place the present on the table, and stand up to comfort her. “What’s wrong, my love?” You wrap your arms around her, and rub your hands over her back soothingly. “You got me a gift.” With a slight furrow in your brow you respond. “Yes, of course. It’s your birthday.” You didn’t understand why she was surprised until she told you about how she had been treated in the past. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could they just ignore her birthday, and not find it worth it to celebrate things with her two days in a row. You would celebrate Kyra every single day of the year, for the rest of your life, without a second thought. 

Your hands move to cup her cheeks, and wipe away her tears. “Well, yesterday was about celebrating our love, and today is about celebrating you.” After kissing her on her forehead, you bring her in for another hug. “I love you, and I want to celebrate you in every way, always.” The smile was back on Kyra’s face, “Thank you, you are the best. I love you too.”

After she opened the gift that you got her, and told you how much she loved it, the two of you cleared the table. “So, I was thinking we could head back to your place, and spend the day there. How does that sound?” She smiles and nods, “As long as I’m spending my birthday with you, I am happy.”

After showering and changing out of your pyjamas, you drive the both of you over to her place. The drive was short, but you grasped every opportunity to have a car concert. Of course, Strawberry Kisses had to be the first song, and you both loudly sang along. 

When you got to her place, you grabbed the bags, and told her to walk ahead. She had no idea what was about to hit her, since you had been able to keep the secret well hidden, you were able to film her reaction. So, as you’re walking a few steps behind her, you take out your phone and start recording. 

Kyra opens the door, not suspecting a thing, when all of a sudden she hears “Surprise!”, and she is suddenly surrounded by confetti. She looks around to you with tears in her eyes, “You did all of this?” She looked truthly happy by the surprise, and that’s all you wished for. “It was my idea, but Mini helped set everything up.” Kyra goes around and hugs her friends. You wanted to give her a piece of home for her birthday, so you had invited Katrina, Clara, Harper, and Charli. 

You had bought all the decorations and dropped them off at Mini’s place a few days prior, so that Kyra wouldn’t accidentally find them. She was the one that put all the decorations up, and was the one picking up the cake you had pre-ordered, so today wouldn’t have been possible without her help. 

Hearing Harper sing happy birthday to Kyra was the most adorable thing ever, and your heart melted at the interactions between the two of them. You knew how important the people in this room were to her, and were so glad that they all lived in London now, so that they would be able to spend more time together. 

“How are you enjoying your birthday, my love?” You asked her while the two of you cleaned up the plates from the birthday cake. “It is honestly the best birthday ever, thank you so much for everything.” She walks closer to you and wraps her arms around you. “Thank you.” You hold her tight, “Of course, anything for you, my love.”

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