#and that check will have at least one vacation day in it so I'll be good for rent lmao

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Con is over! I feel like I've been hit by a truck

[tarjapearce]

Strawberry Jam (+18)

Dad friend AU!Miguel x fem!reader

Inspired in THIS ask <3 Thanks anon. Hope you like c:

PT. 2

WARNING: SMUT, Age gap, breeding kink, fang kink, choking, rough sex, brief tension, slight fluff.

"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Curtains were drawn out as sunlight seeped in your dim lit room. You groaned in response, trying to cocoon yourself under the sheets.

"C'mon, sweetie. I gotta meet a client in a coupe of hours, need you awake to receive some packages." Silence. He sighed, "I'll bring you some flan." You yawned and smiled. Of course he would, you were his spoiled girl. He had raised you well despite the rocky relationship with your mother.

Someone that had decided to not be a part of your life for quite a while, leaving your dad a good chunk of the responsibility. At least, she provided enough for your college. An agreement that had settled up a long time ago by a judge.

"Make it napolitan, please" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "Oh, forgot to mention, Miguel is coming over to help you."

"Miguel?"

And of course, it had put a toll on his mental health, during the last couple of years. As a father, your father, he was anything but perfect, but he made sure to be there, to always support you. He had met Miguel in one of those support groups for men, and things sort of snowballed from there. Your dad and Miguel had alot in common, single parents, demanding jobs, and unconditional love for their daughters.

You had the chance to meet him a couple of times during college vacations, at first he was intimidating to you. 6'9", a hard look on his face that seemed to only melt away with his close ones, and a hulking muscular figure.

But now, every time you visited you'd find his blue Aston Martin Vanquish parked outside your house, beer in hand, screaming at the screen as a soccergame was on. He wasn't a stuck up guy (Like your neighbors had described him once), despite having flooding money in his account.

His daughter was in one of the best private schools in town after all, thanks to his job at Alchemax. He even got you a lovely gold necklace for your 21st birthday after ruffling your hair, something that annoyed you, since you weren't a child. He had came into your lives' two years ago.

"Yeah,some of the packages are his. He was out of town to get them, so I offered to receive them." The doorbell rang, announcing his presence. Your dad left and you sat on your bed and checked your phone.

Of course, your friends would be always asking about him, one of them even dared to ask if you had fucked him already once they saw you wearing the golden necklace. You knew he was off limits. Mostly out of respect for your dad, and of course, the weird feeling that he just saw you as his friend's daughter.

You stood up to prepare for the day, as uneventful as it would be. Hot shower with sweet smelling products, to then change into a pair of gray sweatpants, bunny slippers and a tanktop, washed your teeth and brushed your damp hair. Then, you came down the stairs only to find Miguel sitting across your dad on the kitchen island, mug of steaming coffee on hands.

"Morning" you greeted him with a pat on the shoulder as you put a bagel into the toaster and served yourself some orange juice.

"Buenos días" Miguel greeted, his eyes following you as you moved through the kitchen. Your house was homey, cozy and perfect for the suburban life. Miguel wore a black buttoned jersey, dark jeans and dress shoes. A black belt accentuating his waist.

"Gotta go then, You're in charge" Your dad spoke, and patted his sturdy shoulder to then leave. You rolled your eyes.

"Anyways, want breakfast?"

"No, Thank you." His eyes were focused on the newspaper before him, that until you bent over to search for jam in the lower cabinets. His eyes were immediately to your rear. he sipped his coffee and hummed. The thin straps of the tank top slid off your shoulder. He closed his eyes, engraving the image in his mind. You sat across him, breakfast on a plate.

"Whatcha getting?" you munched in the bagel, a bit of jam smearing in the corner of your lips. Instinctively, he licked his own.

"Some playground for Gabriela." you nodded as you relished the flavor of your bagel. Licking off, the strawberry jam off your stained fingers. His eyes wandering to the way your lips trapped your fingers, the gold necklace adorning your little neck. It looked almost inviting.

"Glad to see you liked it. Gold looks good on you." You didn't know how his shirts fit him so well without bursting or tearing. His back had been lately the object of your new hyperfixation. You had seen jacked up guys in college, but Miguel was certainly in a whole different level.

"Thanks. It got me into a bit of trouble back in college actually." you snorted and drank your orange juice.

"How come?"

"Well,my friends think that I've got myself a sugar daddy."

His eyes twinkled in amusement, an idea seemed to be popping in his mind.

"Funny they think that when you still keep smearing jam on your face. Come here" He took your hand and pulled you across the kitchen island, even though he was sitting, he still towered over you. You barely reached his chin. He cupped your face, your sweet breath fanned his lips. He pouted as his face inched closer.

"Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa." He mumbled, as he wiped the jam off the corner of your lips to then lick it off his finger. Your eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as you swallowed.

"D-Dad would kill you if he'd see you like this"

"Good thing he isn't around, hm?"

"You're the same age" your voice almost a whisper as he kept cupping your face with a single hand as the other one pulled you closer to him, "You could even be my father!"

Your heart thumped hard against your chest, his warm, coffee-like smelling breath brushed over your lips.

"But I'm not." his hands roamed your shoulders, the straps of your tanktop peeled away under his touch, the fabric slid lower and lower as it hovered over the curvature of your breast.

The doorbell rang. You both froze.

"Puta madre…" he seethed and stood, towering even more over you, "I'll get it. Stay put."

"But-"

"Stay.Put." His finger pointing at you as he disappeared back to the livingroom.

Your mind was still trying to process what just happened. You could hear Miguel exchange peasantries with the delivery man as he received an array of boxes. Your straps were slid back on their original position, and your phone buzzed. "Dad <3" on screen. You picked up.

"Hey"

"Hello, how's everything going?"

"Dad it's just been twenty minutes. But at least the packages just came."

"Careful with a small box, it has some fragile things."

The main door was closed.

"Oh? ok. Uh… You coming home soon?"

"Why, is there a problem?"

Big hands covered your shoulders to pull the upper part of the tanktop down, breast spilled from their confinement. Miguel's hands cupped them and gave gentle squeezes as his mouth kissed your neck.

"N-No, no no. Just asking so I can make-" You bit your lip, drowning a gasp as he toyed with your nipples, "E-Enough lunch for both"

Your hand covered your mouth as his teeth grazed your skin. Somthing you found interesting about Miguel was the fact he seemed to have larger canines than the average people. Whenever he was angry, you could see a glimpse of his pointy teeth underneath his plump lips.

He gave soft love bites, licking the skin. Your skin shivered.

"Ah, don't you worry about it, I might get there until night it seems. Anyways, see ya later, love you cupcake."

Miguel stopped for a moment.

"Love you too." You hung up the call, Miguel removed the phone from your hands and twirled you around to kiss you deeply. His hands fisting your hair to hold you in place as his tongue invaded your mouth with such expertise it made your legs feel like jelly. You gasped as she pressed you closer to his body, warmth spreading all over yours.

Miguel nipped at your bottom lip, and placed you ontop of the kitchen island with ease, bunny slippers falling off your feet as they dangled. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed the piece of cloth on the dining table.

"W-Wait! Shouldn't we better go-"

"Shh." His fingers hooked on the hem of your sweatpants and pulled down along your panties. Smooth skin revealed to his eyes. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds to then ease it inside you slowly. He hissed at the moist and warm feeling, he retrieved the finger back and licked it clean, groaning.

"Riquísimo, preciosa" His hands maneuvered your legs like a toy, he spreaded them to then push them back to expose even more flesh. Your mouth fell open as he dribbled the tip of his tongue around the knub of nerves and then drag it down and up your entrance.

Yelping, you held tight on the sturdiness of the island. His mouth disappeared between your slick folds, your breath caught in your throat as he sucked eagerly at your clit while his tongue flickered.

Your sweet coos and moanings only urged him to hold on you tightly, he moved his head to the sides increasing the intensity of his eating. Your hips grind against his tongue, seeking for relief, but he stopped you, a choked whine from your throat.

"Look at you" He put your hips back on the cold tiles, to then unbuckling his belt. "What would your dad think if he saw you like this?" He pulled you off the island, to then bend you over it. One of his feet, kicked away the clothes.

"All spread for me, eager to be filled up" He slapped your pusy softly as he pulled his underwear and pants down, also kicking them away, "Wanna make him a grandpa?" Your eyes went wide, panic surged through your mind but he pushed your torso flat against the cold surface. His legs separating your own.

His fingers prodded inside once more before coating his cock and as gently as he could, eased his way inside you. The stretching of his cock had you biting your lip and gripping softly at his wrist.

"Ohmy god" you half whimpered, slurred as he filled you completely.

"Estás tan apretada, mami" He kneaded your trembling hips. One hand held you in place as the other one twisted in your lowered tanktop. His hips rolled slowly. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough before his hips smacked yours with enough force to make you lurch forward, air knocked out of your lungs. You were on your tip toes. His hand slapped your ass as it bounced back and forth on his cock.

"Such a good girl" he grunted and sunk his nails on your hips, "Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi." His hand freed the tanktop to take a fistful of your hair and pulled back. He had gone to ruffle your hair, to pull it.

Your arching gave him the perfect spot to ram into. So ever tight and hot. You hissed as an array of lewd cursing flew out your mouth. His balls slapped your flesh mercilessly.

"Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?" he clicked his tongue in feigned disapproval. He let your hip go, hands immediately hooking underneath your right thigh and hoisted it up, spreading you like a book, pounding deeper and rougher into you.

Your pants and desperate moanings drowned his growling. Your body felt on fire, a thin layer of sweat covered your body, his torso glistened in sweat. His front bangs had fell onto his face by the constant movement.

You held onto his forearm, contorting your torso up, to see his lust blown face. His hands made sure to hold you tightly, preventing from falling. Big eyes stared at him, too lost in sinful thoughts as he pressed closer, deeper into you.

"Fuck me" You choked a sob as your orgasm approached. Your voice too coarse from the constant mewling.

"Just like this, mami?" he breathed before hoisting your leg a bit wider, you whimpered, nodded and clawed at his arms. You begged him to not stop, your orgasm was around the corner as he rawed you silly.

Your inner thighs and outher flesh were flushed by the constant rough slapping of his hips, the hand that held your leg, snaked its way towards your neck, squeezing tighly, your leg dangled and swayed at the rythm of his thrust.

"Come for daddy, preciosa" he groaned as his thrustings turned erratic and sloppier, slickness rolling down your sopping pussy and inner thighs.

"Fuck fuck fuckfu-" He let your leg go and held you tightly against him. your feet barely touching the floor, your torso once more flat against the cool tiles of the island as he painted your walls white with a guttural growl. It earned him a shaky and loud mewl.

"Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí." He picked you up and kissed you on the lips, "You alright?"

You nodded and panted, legs trembling.

"We gotta… clean up" he nodded with a smirk.

---------------

"Hey cupcake?"

"Hm?" You were sat on the solo couch, browsing through your phone as Miguel sat in the couch nearby. Your dad had arrived an hour after you were done cleaning yourselves. Something that had nearly turned into round two if it wasn't for the fact that your dad had called in to announce he was on his way back.

"Did you cook something?"

"Eh no, why?"

"Kitchen smells funky." Your eyes widened, as Miguel went stiff. You had been too engrossed in eachother that barely had the time to clean after your mess. Your dad went back to the kitchen to get himself a beer. It had been an uneventful evening for him, he was gone two hours but it was good enough for him to get a new sponsor to his remodeling contractors firm.

You shared a nervous glance with Miguel. Your dad groaned annoyed.

"(Name)"

Uh Oh. He only used your name when he was pissed.

"Yes, dad?"

"Look, your… sex life is none of my concern, really. But from all the places you could… do such thing, was the kitchen necessary? And you, I told you to keep an eye on her." He scowled at Miguel. You hung your head in embarrasment as Miguel chuckled with his hands up defensively.

"Who was it?"

"W-What?"

"Whose the guy, so I can talk to him, to not pull this… stunt again. You're better than that, (Name)"

"Hey, relax. Go easy on her." Miguel spoke

"Shut up, O'Hara."

"C'mon, you probably acted worse when you were her age. Remember when you told me about the time you-"

"Miguel, stop." Your face went as red as a tomato and your dad sighed. He looked between you and Miguel, and you could swear the five stages of grief going through his face at the sudden realization.

"You fucked my daughter…"

"Dad, stop!"

"Dad, nothing! Go to your room, now."

"You can't ground me, I'm old enough to-"

"To what? Be a step mom? Fuck older guys that could be your father? You don't know what you are getting into, young lady."

"You out of everyone know that I'll never do something that would put her in danger."

"Miguel, I don't know how your brain works right now, but You.Fucked.My.Daughter. My Daughter! The last thing I want is her being a mother before she finishes college."

"She won't be. That's a promise."

"Damn right it is, cause you won't be seeing her anymore."

"W-What? Dad!"

"I thought you were in your room, like I fucking told you."

"Don't talk to her like that." Miguel frowned

"My daughter, my house, my rules. You need to leave."

"You're angry, I get it. It was wrong of me to cross you like that, but she is old enough to know what she wants. I would never force her to do something she doesn't wants to do." Miguel spoke with his hands still in defense.

"For how long have you… been doing this?"

"It was the first time, actually" you spoke meekly from the doorframe.

"Like, you're always complaining about the few guys I introduce you to-"

"This is different!" you had never seen him so serious and angry.

Silence stretching too long, your dad sighed, annoyed.

"I fucking… I fucking swear, O'Hara. If you get her pregnant, I'll fucking kill you."

"Relax, I'm not making you a grandpa." Your dad's shoulder slumped, defeated.

"Yet." They went tense again.

"Oh my god." Your need to be swallowed by the earth underneath and to spit you away from them only increased as their conversation kept unfolding.

"So, now the surprise has been popped, that means I have your permission to properly date her?" Your dad rubbed his face tiredly.

"I wanna make things right." Miguel glanced at you.

"I've known you for a couple of years, and you've met her ever since she was eighteen. You're not a bad man, but trust me when I say that if this girl, my girl, comes here with tears in her face because you did something stupid to her, we're done. Understood?"

"Por supuesto" he went to your side and pulled you closer.

"And clean up this fucking mess."

He left to his room and left you alone. Of course you'd talk to him later, when everything was a bit more calm. Miguel on the other hand kissed your temple and sighed in relief.

"So…"

"So…"

"Sunday night, at 6 for dinner?"

"Sure."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Just give him time to get used to it."

"What if he never gets used to it?"

he kissed your hand

"You'll come with me"

------------------------

Buenos días- Good Morning

Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa- What a messy girl

Puta madre- Fucking shit

Riquísimo, preciosa- So delicious, gorgeous

Estás tan apretada,mami - You're so tight, mami

Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi- I'll fuck you so good that every time you enter this place, you'll remember me

Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?- With that mouth you tell daddy you love him?

Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí - You look so beautiful like that, all full of me.

Por supuesto- Of course.

[roosterforme]

The Birthday Blues | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves celebrating your birthday. It's his favorite day of the year. But you're almost too upset to celebrate, and you don't seem to want to tell him why.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swears, mentions of trying to get pregnant

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Roo?" you mumbled when you thought you felt your husband touching you. Was it morning? Or were you still asleep? You must be having a dream, because you felt good. No, you felt fucking great.

"Happy birthday, Baby Girl."

You cracked your eyes open, searching for the source of your pleasure, and then you saw that Bradley was nestled between your thighs, eating your pussy.

"Oh!" you gasped. That's why you felt like you were melting into a pool of pleasure. Because you actually were. You watched Bradley's head bob slightly as he licked long, languid stripes along your pussy. The early morning light was turning his messy bedhead hair a pretty copper color, and when you pushed your fingers through it, he kissed your thigh before returning to his task.

It was your birthday. You were thirty one. And you were pretty sure he wasn't going to stop until you came at least one time on his face. So you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch the show.

"Is this my birthday present?" you whispered as Bradley's mustache brushed against your clit.

"Just one of many," he rasped before kissing his way up and down your slit. When you were sufficiently moaning for him, he wrapped those pretty lips around your clit while you played with his hair.

Each little flick of his tongue had you gasping and asking for more. But he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he was drawing this out on purpose. Every time your voice got higher in pitch, he eased back the pressure until you calmed down. And then he started all over again.

"Roo!" you whined, practically riding his face as he held your hips down on the bed. "Let me cum! It's my birthday!"

The devilish look he gave you should have been enough warning, but a minute later, he was fucking you with two fingers and sucking your clit just right. When you felt the prickle of his mustache on your skin, your head tipped back against the pillow, and you felt yourself squeezing his thick fingers as you whined his name until you were laying in a limp, boneless pile. 

Then you felt his warm body weight on your sensitive skin as he kissed your lips. His mustache was wet, and he let you lick his face clean.

"I need to be on base in thirty minutes," he rasped, making no move to leave you or the bed. "Fuck, why didn't we take today off? It's the most important day of the year."

"Because we burned through all of our vacation time for our honeymoon," you reminded him. 

"It was worth it," he whispered next to your ear before he climbed out of bed. You watched Bradley step into his flight suit before he disappeared into the bathroom. You desperately wanted to coax him back to bed, but you also really wanted Bradley to leave for work.

He kissed your lips one more time and said, "Birthday dinner at seven. I'll let Tramp out before I leave. I love you, Baby Girl." 

And once he was gone, you dashed out of bed and into the bathroom. You dug around in the closet for the pregnancy tests you bought yesterday after work. 

"Come on," you whispered, pacing around the bathroom and bedroom after you peed on the sticks. This could potentially be the best birthday present of your life, even better than a birthday morning orgasm from Bradley. 

When your timer went off and you checked the tests, tears of frustration filled your eyes. You tossed the tests into the trash and got dressed for work. 

----------------------------

It was actually unfair. Finding yourself on the verge of crying at work on your birthday shouldn't have been happening. And now as you sat in your office, swiping tears away, you realized you were just angry at yourself for taking the pregnancy tests in the first place. 

But you had been trying for two months. And you'd spent the last decade trying your damnedest not to get pregnant. And if you knew there might have been something wrong, you'd have stopped taking birth control months ago. Because you and Bradley had been having very frequent sex for weeks now, and you felt like you were disappointing yourself and him, too.

You closed your computer and carried it down the hallway to your lab where your newest coworker Cat seemed to be having a great day. She was laughing with your other labmates just like you would normally be doing, but you weren't feeling like yourself. So you just kept your head down and got your work done. 

You knew you shouldn't have done it, but you texted Bradley and told him you were simply too busy to make it down to the cafeteria for lunch today.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: really? everyone wanted to see you. i wanted to see you...

And then you started crying again. Because the negative pregnancy test was getting to you so much, you were letting Bradley down even more.

--------------------------

"I think you should wear the dress you wore on our first date," Bradley crooned next to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "You look so good in red."

You wiggled out of his grasp and finished unbuttoning your uniform shirt. As you removed your pins, you said, "Our first date was in the summer. It's too chilly out today."

Now he was looking at you like he was trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "I'll keep you warm. Or you can wear one of my sweatshirts over it if you want to. Or you can wear leggings and your oversized sweater. It's your birthday. And you're perfect. And you're going to look perfect."

But you really weren't perfect. You sighed and nodded at him. "I'll just throw on something casual. You said it doesn't matter what I wear."

You could tell he wanted you to wear that red dress. But you were feeling like punishing yourself for being in a bad mood on your own birthday. And you were bloated. Plus you'd gained a few pounds on the honeymoon and over the holidays. You'd look terrible in that dress right now. But Bradley just nodded his head once as you walked away from him. "Anything is fine, Baby Girl." 

"Great," you muttered, pulling on the leggings and sweater. The car ride was painfully quiet, and as soon as he got on the highway, you knew where he was taking you. You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.

"Did I piss you off today?" he asked as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the hot sauce restaurant he'd taken you to on your first date. 

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears you could once again feel. You were emotional because your period was starting, not because you were pregnant. And that thought was making more tears burn your eyes. 

"Sweetheart, if you're not feeling it, we can go home," he assured you. "I won't be upset. I should have let you pick what you wanted to do today."

"No, it's fine, Roo. I love it here. You did good," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the excitement you usually felt when he surprised you with silly little things. Normally you would have been climbing across the seat to wrap your arms around him, excited that he brought you back here, but instead you climbed out your own door onto the sidewalk. 

"Okay," he whispered a moment later, taking your hand in his larger one and kissing your fingers. "I'll let you order both meals and eat half of each one. I know you love doing that here." Bradley guided you inside as a smile found its way to your lips.

"I do love that," you told him. Soon you and he were sitting side by side in a booth, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pouring out little samples of various hot sauces onto your plate and tasting each one while Bradley sipped a beer. He helped you rank the bottles in order of deliciousness, and then you ate half of your meal and half of his. 

"Let me buy you bottles of your top three draft picks," he joked, taking out his credit card to pay the bill and asking the waiter to add on a few bottles of the hot sauces you liked best.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered, kissing his cheek. This wasn't so bad. You'd get over this sadness like you had last month. It would just take a few days, and you could blame it on your period. 

Your husband took you by the hand, but instead of leading you back to the Bronco, he crossed the street with you. "Thought we could walk along the pier? For old time's sake?"

You looked up into his eager face in the dim glow of the streetlight. He just wanted to please you, just the same way you always wanted to please him. So you nodded and started out along the pier where you'd spent plenty of time getting to know him and making out with him so many months ago.

When you leaned against the railing and looked out at the dark water beyond, Bradley rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. "Promised I'd keep you warm," he murmured next to your ear.

You smiled. "You should have put that in your wedding vows."

His soft sigh as he rubbed his hands along the front of your body made you feel a lot better. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday dinner. I wasn't joking, this really is the most important day of the year. My very favorite day of the year. Besides our anniversary."

"I love you even more than I love hot sauce." 

The promise fell from your lips as he chuckled and said, "I hope you don't lose your taste for spicy food when you're pregnant."

The chilly night air started to seep through the fabric of your sweater everywhere that he wasn't touching you. Your face fell into a frown. The dark water no longer looked peaceful. Tears filled your eyes quickly, as if they had been right there at the surface, just waiting for another excuse to drip down your cheeks.

You tried your best to keep it together, but Bradley knew right away that something was wrong. He spun you in his arms until you were facing him. "Please, Baby Girl. Please tell me what's going on. If I made you upset, you need to tell-"

But you just shook your head and pushed him gently away from you, and Bradley looked like you had slapped him across the face. "I'm not pregnant, okay? I'm not. I took a pregnancy test this morning, because my period should have started today."

"Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. We have time-"

"Just stop it, alright?" you asked, wiping away your tears as he reached for you. "Please, just stop talking. Let's go home."

Bradley rubbed his hand along his lips and mustache before he nodded. When he held his hand out for yours, you didn't take it. Rather you just strolled back up the pier toward the street a few steps in front of him, continuously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. 

When you reached the Bronco and went to climb in, Bradley jogged up behind you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He didn't try to kiss you, but he did run his thumb along your knuckles as he whispered, "Love you." 

But you pressed your lips together against the pain in your heart instead of responding to him. And then he took you home in silence, not even bothering to choose a playlist to listen to. 

Now you'd upset your husband by telling him the truth about what was bothering you. He probably thought you were insane, losing yourself like this for the second month in a row. Blaming yourself for not being pregnant yet when you knew, deep inside your mind, that you hadn't actually done anything wrong. But you felt the uncontrollable, hateful desire to blame yourself anyway. 

You were still dabbing at your eyes with your sleeves when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He killed the engine and turned to face you, but you were out the door and heading for the front porch before he could get a single word in. After wrestling with your key for a moment, you shoved the door open and nudged Tramp to keep him inside. But when you turned the lamp on, you froze in place.

Your entire house, literally every surface you could see, was filled with yellow flowers. Tulips, roses, daffodils and zinnias. Everywhere. Just like he had done for you last year. You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could feel Bradley's presence behind you. 

After you sucked in a breath, you peeked into the kitchen and saw more flowers along with pink champagne in the ice bucket next to a beautiful confetti cake. Music was playing softly through the small speaker you kept next to the sink, and you recognized the songs as ones from a playlist Bradley made for you when he had been deployed. Your breathing was getting ragged as you sobbed into your hands.

"I'm sorry," Bradley murmured. "I had Nat and Bob bring everything over to surprise you. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get it cleaned up."

"No," you gasped, crying harder. "It's perfect."

You looked up at him through your tears, and just shook your head. He was hesitating to touch you now, and you hated that. And a second later, you were stumbling forward into his arms.

"Don't clean it up," you whispered. "I love it."

You could feel him slowly wrap his arms around you as you buried your face against his chest and sobbed until you couldn't cry any longer. He just held you there while your head throbbed, gently rubbing your back and shoulders until you were done.

As you sucked in a deep breath, he whispered, "You know, you're not alone here, right? You're literally never alone, because I'm here, too."

You swallowed down your guilt and looked up at him. When you nodded he kissed the tip of your nose. 

"I don't want to have to keep telling you every month that you're not the only one trying for a baby. I don't want you to keep thinking that. This is 50/50 here, Baby Girl. You and me."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively silencing you before whispering, "You're not allowed to apologize on your birthday."

You smiled up at him, half laughing and half sobbing. "Fine. I won't then."

He pulled you flush against his body and you took his face in your hands as he said, "We've got plenty of time, Sweetheart."

You ran your thumb along his scars. "I just don't want to disappoint you."

"Never," he promised, his voice growing deep and raspy. "You could never."

"But-"

He kissed you hard again. "All you ever do is make my life better. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Instead of trying to argue with him, you just nodded and let him kiss you until you were smiling. He was right. You had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do together. 

With Bradley's lips gliding along your forehead, you whispered, "Should we have some cake?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the piano bench next to him with Tramp in your arms, and Bradley played and sang Happy Birthday. He kissed you about a million times as he poured two glasses of champagne and sliced into your birthday cake. Then you stood in your kitchen which smelled like all of the floral arrangements, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind once more. You laughed every time he kissed your cheek and opened his mouth for some cake.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered before you fed him a bite. You'd make sure he had his favorites for his birthday, lemon cake and beer. And maybe with a little luck, in a few months when he turned thirty seven, you would be skipping the beer in favor of something non-alcoholic. 

"I hope you enjoyed the best day of the year," he murmured. And you realized that all the best parts were when you were with your husband, living in the moment instead of worry about what you couldn't control.

Later, when you were ready for bed and snuggling up on his chest, you told him, "You could never disappoint me, either."

---------------------------

Once again, this one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. Don't beat yourself up, BG. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[toournextadventure]

our little secret pt.v

Summary: Letters to you.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, mention of possible suicide (slight mention, nothing happens), mental instability, mental spiraling, religious talk (Southern Christianity) Pairing: Lorraine Day x Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this is like a little filler, just having fun trying out something different. Don't worry, there's still a giant chapter left! Also? When Lorraine signs the letters to you, she puts a little heart over the i <3

June 15th

I thought you said you’d always be waiting. But I come home to hear from your momma that you’re on a vacation with Roy? Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would have given you a proper goodbye.

It’s probably a good idea, though. Roy could definitely use the break and I’m sure you can too. I know the past few weeks have been… rough. I’m sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen. But we can talk more about things when you get back. For now, make sure you have some fun, okay?

Your momma said y’all went out West. If you could write me back and let me know where, maybe I can meet up with you. We can have a proper vacation for once. Do y’all have any real plans, or are you just traveling? I’m sure either one will do the job. You always did want to get out of town for a bit.

Our shoot went well. Max and Bobby-Lynne asked about you the whole time. It doesn't sit right with me when they're constantly checking up on you. Maybe I'm just jealous. It's probably nothing compared to how you feel. At least they mean well, I suppose. They send you their love. Maxine sent… a little more than love, but I’m not telling you about that.

By the time you get this letter, it shouldn’t be too long before you’re back home. I’ll be here waiting for you, okay? Don’t forget to send me some postcards. And if you find anything cute, don't forget to buy it for me! I'll pay you back, I promise.

I'll see you soon.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 29th

Having too much fun?

We all thought you'd both be home by now. The 4th is next week, you know. We never miss the 4th. Daddy said he would cook out this year. He's making your favourite and Beau and Huck got the good fireworks. We can take the truck out and watch the show, just you and me. RJ will be out so we can be free for a bit. That’ll be nice, right? A nice little break. So you better not miss it.

Speaking of, Beau isn’t too happy that you’re not home yet. He’s been doing a lot of pacing and mumbling a bunch of nonsense. I think he’s being a bit dramatic. He’s not happy that you left without letting him know. Said he could have told you a few places to go to be safe. I think he just misses you. We all do.

We haven’t been out to a shoot for a while. I’m glad. It hasn’t been the same since RJ proposed. Nothing has, really. Things just don’t feel the same. There’s guilt in everything I do now, I don’t know how to explain it. I just don’t feel comfortable with anything, even daily chores. Did you ever feel that guilt? The one that sits deep in your belly?

On a brighter note, Jimmy and Liz are back in town. They seem to be doing good. And no, they’re not pregnant, thank God. It’s a modern miracle. They had hoped to see you before the summer is over. Of course they will though, it’s not even July yet, the summer is still young. Besides, I know no vacation is more fun than hanging out with us, right? Even Roy would agree, I know it.

Momma is calling me to dinner now, so I’ll wrap it up. I’ll see you on the 4th, okay?

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 23rd

Hey darlin, I think it’s about time you came home. You’ve more than missed the 4th, and Lorraine ain’t too happy. It’s the first time you’ve missed a holiday, you know? It ain’t like you. I know this ain’t the happiest place for you right now, but your family is here. We’re all here.

Where’d you go anyhow? You and Roy are homebodies, y’all don’t know anybody out West. If you really wanted a vacation, you could’ve waited for us to get home. We would’ve taken you. I’m sure Lorraine would’ve been happy to go too. We could’ve had a double vacation, you know? Like we always talked about?

Huck and I won our competition the other day. Wish you had been there to cheer us on. We wiped the floor with everybody. Best team ropers in the South, just you wait. You’d best come home for the next one. I’d hate to get too popular for you to notice us, you know?

I’ll keep Lorraine calm and happy, but I really need you to get home, darlin. It’s a bit past time to be concerned. At the very least, send us a letter back. I can handle you being gone for so long if I know where you are. I know this isn’t a happy place, but we’re still worried about you. We can make it a better place again, I promise.

Just send me something back, okay? I’d appreciate it.

Love you, Beau

—---

August 12th

Hon, I really think you need to come home. Lorraine and Beau are losing their minds. No one has heard from you or Roy since you left, and your parents don’t seem worried at all. Your momma seems the slightest bit concerned, but your daddy isn’t. Everyone is just acting weird, so you need to come home.

Jim and Liz left for seminary again last week. They were mighty upset they didn’t get to see you before they left. It’s been about since Christmas since y’all were together, right? They miss you both. Y’all are family. Maybe try to write him while y’all are gone, I’ll write his address at the bottom in case you don’t remember.

If I have to listen to Beau and Lorraine ask where you are one more time, I’m going to lose my mind. You know neither one of them knows how to be patient or think logically. They have a single bad thought and run with it. I need you here to help me calm them down, because you’re fine, just taking a break from everything.

No one blames you for taking a break. After everything… it’s the least you deserve. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Lorraine asked the other night if this is her fault. I told her it wasn’t. We all know that girl loves you to the moon and back. And we all know you love her back. Things can be worked out, but you’ve got to come back home first, okay?

After all this, you had better be having the time of your life, darling. I’m going to assume as much since you’re not answering anybody. Hey, if you can’t write back, can you at least give us a number to try and call you at? Beau said he’d pay any long-distance charges, he just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He’s playing the part of a dutiful boyfriend, you know. Everyone thinks it’s romantic. I know he’s just worried about you, but it’s weird to hear everyone giving him their sympathies. Is this how you feel when everyone talks to Lorraine about RJ? Like you’re in second place in a race you hadn’t wanted to compete in? Because if so, then I think I understand you a bit. It’s… not a nice feeling.

Ah, I won’t get sentimental. We can talk more when you get home. I think I understand you a little better. That’s kinda sad, isn’t it? Took you leaving for me to get a better grip on your feelings? Well, just come home soon so we can talk. As I’ve made clear, Beau and Lorraine miss you. But I miss you too, darling. Enjoy your trip, but please come home soon safe and sound.

With love, Huck

—---

October 9th

This ain’t funny anymore, you know. It ain’t funny, and you need to get home now. You can quit ignoring all our letters, we get it. You’re hurt, you’re upset, you wanna teach us a lesson or somethin. We get it, we understand, just come home.

Lorraine is losing her gotdamn mind, and quite frankly I am too. No one’s heard a peep from you or Roy. You didn’t even like the West, you had always said it was too different. Never liked how they did their food either. So why would you even go out that way anyway?

You’re probably out drinking those fancy beers they try to peddle up there. They’re not as good as ours and you know it. Or you’re out doing those stupid hikes that you never cared for, getting more blisters on your heels because you don’t even like walks. There’s nothing good out there and you need to come back.

You should’ve left us a note before you left. That ain’t like you, you know. You always let us know where you’re going. You couldn’t even go to church camp back in the day without leaving a personalised letter for each of us. But now you just up and leave in the middle of the night? No warning? That ain’t right and you know it.

People keep asking me where you are and I don’t have any more answers. I can only say “she’s on vacation” so many times before people realise it’s a lie. And it is, isn’t it? It’s a lie. You’re not on some damn vacation. If you ran off, just let me know. I’ll leave you alone as long as I know you’re safe.

Did we make you that miserable? Was being around us so awful that you had to leave? You could’ve told us first. We could’ve come up with a plan, something that wouldn’t hurt you so bad. I don’t know what we could’ve done, but we could’ve tried something. Anything at all.

I need you to answer my letters, honey. I really need you to let me know you’re safe.

Please be safe.

Love you, Beau

—---

December 17th

You missed Halloween. And Thanksgiving. Are you going to miss Christmas too? And New Year's Eve? Am I going to have to jump into the new year without you? Please let me know if I am, because I need to be prepared. I’ve spent holiday after holiday waiting for you to come back, for you to spend it with me again. I get my hopes up every single time just for you to not be there.

RJ keeps asking me what’s wrong, and I’m honest with him. I miss you. I miss you so badly my chest aches. But he doesn’t understand. He thinks I just miss my best friend. And I do, you’ve always been my best friend. But you’re so much more than that, and I can’t explain it to him until you get back because I need someone to hold on to while you’re gone. When are you coming back?

Are you waiting for an apology? Because I’ll give you one, I’ll give you as many as you want. I’m sorry about RJ. I’m sorry about the proposal and that I didn’t say no. I’m sorry about Mr. Dylan, he never should’ve touched you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly. I’m sorry I avoided you after the proposal, I was just scared and didn’t know what to do.

I’ll say sorry for anything you want or need. Just please answer me. Please come home. I don’t want anything else for Christmas, I don’t want any other miracle, I just want you. Please come home.

I miss you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

January 24th

We searched Roy’s room and found all his guns gone.

I’m done asking, darling, you need to call us or send us a letter. Now. Now, I don’t believe Roy would do anything to you, but your daddy is on a kick about how unstable he was. How he’s still sick from the devil and all that nonsense he would always preach. I know he wouldn’t touch a hair on your head, but I really need you to answer me.

Lorraine has been losing her patience with RJ. She yelled at him the other day just because he tried to hold her hand. Told him not to touch her. It was quite the show. And it’s going to get her in trouble. She needs you, you know? You’re not the only one who has to hide.

I’m sorry, but I went through your room. It’s been long enough, your momma practically gave me the go ahead. You didn’t take any of your letters from Lorraine. Did you mean to leave them? I hope you didn’t. I hope it was an accident, and you didn’t mean to leave us behind.

Beau has a letter for you too, but he’s not done with it. I don’t know how to help him. He’s got himself convinced he should’ve done more. I don’t know what he should have done. I don’t know what he could have done differently. Did you want him to propose? The three of us could’ve moved off somewhere, you know. We could’ve made it work if it’s what you wanted.

Everyone wants you home. They need you to come home. No one is complete without you, it’s like a big part of town is missing. Stevie from the bar finally pulled me aside and asked about you last weekend. I couldn’t even give him an answer. He said he’d pray for you. Said he’d keep a shot of the good stuff saved for when you get back.

Fuck it. I miss you too. You’re one of my very best friends, hon. You’re the one who’s been with me through everything. Hell, you introduced me to Beau. You’re the only one I can truly talk to about things. I need you home too, okay? You’re part of my home, so I need you to come back.

I need you to write back.

With love, Huck

—---

January 30th

You’re an absolute bastard. You know that? You’re a fuckin bastard. A vacation? Give me a fuckin break, you didn’t go on no gotdamn vacation. Where’d you go, huh? Somewhere we’d never find you? Did Roy convince you to leave? He probably did, the prick. Ain’t no way you would’ve left on your own, you’re not stupid.

What the hell were you thinkin? Just up and leavin like it ain’t nobody’s business. Well it’s my business. It’s my fucking business and you should’ve told me. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I don’t care that we’re pretendin, I still fuckin care about you and you just fuckin left? Did I mean that little to you?

We had a pretty great thing goin, you didn’t have to leave and ruin it. I don’t care that it was a lie, we were happy. I still had Huck, and you still had Lorraine, and we were happy. You didn’t have to pack your bags and leave like a thief in the night to, what, prove a point? Well I get it now, you weren’t as happy as I thought. You could’ve told me instead of doin all of this.

You’d better answer the gotdamn letter this time. I ain’t playin around anymore. You better answer the letter and get your ass home. And if Roy is readin this, then you better get her home. You’d better have kept your gotdamn hands and your guns away, and you better get her home. Now.

Beau

—---

February 15th

Hey, momma said I should try to send you something. She said you might answer me since I’m your baby brother. Are you and Roy okay? I don’t care what Pap says, I know y’all aren’t dumb, y’all didn’t go do something stupid. Roy probably just grabbed his guns to keep you safe. He’s not crazy.

Gramma came down with something nasty. The doctors think it’s pneumonia, but we’re still waiting for tests to come back. You both should probably get back just in case it’s bad. She misses you. She prays for you both twice a day. It’s really sweet, she just wants you both safe.

Seminary has been alright. Boring. You would’ve liked it more. Heck, you would’ve been better at it. No one knows the bible quite like you, I don’t care what Pap says. If any one of us should’ve gone off to study, it should’ve been you. Maybe once he sees how bad at it I am, he’ll change his mind. Think so? Probably not.

I’m waiting to propose to Liz until you both get back. I’ve got it all planned out and everything, even bought a ring. You’d like it, I think. But I can’t get married without my big siblings, right? Don’t worry, I can be patient. Y’all just get home safe and sound, you hear?

We love you. The both of you. We’ll see you soon.

Jimmy

—---

February 18th

Your Gramma passed away today. The funeral is in two weeks. That should be more than enough time for you to get back.

We’ll see you soon, love.

With love, Huck

—---

March 4th

Your Gramma’s funeral was today. You weren’t there. Why weren’t you there? You meant the world to her. She meant the world to you. You were the one she wanted to see, and you weren’t even there to see her buried.

She would have wanted you to be here.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

April 4th

A police report came in that they found two bodies in the river a few hours away from here. The bodies are decomposed too much to make identifications. I swear to god, hon, it better not be you. I know things were hard. For the both of you. But you didn’t have to go and do that.

It better not be you.

With love, Huck

—---

May 26th

Your daddy practically declared you both dead at church this morning. I guess after almost a year, he’s tired of worrying about it. He was never a patient man. I don’t think anyone really believed him, but who’s going to argue with their preacher? No one in this town, that’s for sure. Momma and daddy said you’re probably fine, just got sick of your daddy. No one would blame you if that were the case.

After church, Mr. Dylan told your daddy you and Roy had tried to kill him the night you left. If that were true, I don’t know why he didn’t bring it up when everyone was asking where you were. Don’t know why he saved it for now, but he did. Said you had both tried to kill him in the church.

He told your daddy you were a queer. Said you were a queer and you were going to infect the town with your sin. Huck hit him. Square on the jaw, knocked him out cold. I had thought it would be Beau. I hope he gave Mr. Dylan a concussion.

Did he really find out? Because I didn’t tell anybody, I swear. We always kept things a secret. At least I think we did. No one was ever around that didn’t already know. I know none of my crew told, they wouldn’t dare. I promise I didn’t tell anyone.

Momma asked me this evening if you really were queer. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what her reaction would be. She has always loved you, I didn’t want her to think any less of you because of what Mr. Dylan said. Daddy said we shouldn’t talk about it while you’re not here. Said it wasn’t right to talk behind your back. I don’t want them to hate you.

I won’t ever let them hate you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 1st

I hate you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hate you. I hate you, and I hate Roy, and I hate this fuckin town and everyone in it.

You were supposed to be here, gotdammit. You were supposed to be here, and we were all supposed to grow old together. What the fuck were you thinkin? Don’t you know how much you’ve hurt me? Don’t you understand? We might not have been in love, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love you. I loved you, and you went and broke my heart like this?

We were all supposed to be together, you know. No matter what, remember? I thought you were my Huckleberry. Well what are you now, huh? A coward. You’re a fuckin coward. What, times get hard so you leave? You just pack your shit and leave with your crazy fuckin brother?

What were we to you? Were we just a means to an end? Nothing more than a toy for you to play with? Cause you were never that to me. You were never anything less than my best friend, the only girl I ever loved. And you just fuckin left me. Was I not good enough for you?

If that’s how you feel, then good fuckin riddance. Stay away. We don’t want you back in this town anyway. Go stay with your new fuckin friends that won’t ever fuckin know you or care about you the way we do. No one is ever gonna understand you like we do.

Don’t even bother comin back.

Beau

—---

June 2nd

Please come back. I can’t do this without you.

Beau

—---

June 4th

I broke off the engagement today. It’s all just too much. I can’t even stand looking at him anymore. Every time he looks at me makes my skin crawl. I can’t even stand being in the same room with him anymore. Each time he touches me makes me feel like a piece of my soul dies.

Did I do this to you? Did I push you to leave? If I did, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. If I had been smarter, I would’ve suggested dating Huck instead. Then none of this ever would have happened. The four of us would’ve been together and no one would have ever known. We could’ve been happy.

Were you that unhappy? I never wanted you to hurt. All I ever wanted was you. Every time I had to fake a smile with RJ, or play nice, I always thought about you. I didn’t care about him, he was just a good distraction so no one would know about us. It was stupid. I never should’ve been afraid of how I felt.

I need you to come home. I need you to come home and tell me everything will be okay. Nothing feels the same without you. Foods don’t taste good, the sun isn’t as bright, nothing is fun. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed anymore. I would rather rot away than go another day without you.

I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I’ll take everything back, I’ll tell the whole world that I love you. I’ll hold your hand at the store. I’ll sit in your lap at the bar, and pull you to dance with me. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. I just want you back. I need you back.

I love you. You’re my home. I need you here with me.

Please come back to me.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 1st

You took my heart with you, you know. No one else is ever going to have it. Please keep it safe.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

The bonfire was hot against Lorraine’s skin. Far too hot. Combined with the sweltering summer heat, it was painful. She didn’t care. Painful at least felt like something. It felt like something real, something she could focus on. Almost as real as the pile of letters in her hands, all stamped with the same thing on the front in red.

Return to sender.

“I’m sorry,” Max said softly. Her hand was surprisingly cool against Lorraine’s upper arm.

On the other side of the fire, off in the distance, she could hear Beau yelling. Drunken, incoherent rambling that no one could really understand. Huck had given up on trying to console him. After all, how could he console him about something that they couldn’t fix? What would be the point?

Another beer bottle shattered against the hard ground.

You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to be there waiting for Lorraine when she got back from filming. Then you were both going to talk, and you were going to come up with a plan to get out of the engagement, and then everyone was going to be happy. Maybe you could’ve gone out East for real, like the four of you had always talked about.

The letters in her hand felt like lead.

“Do you want us to give you a minute?” Bobby-Lynne asked. She squeezed Lorraine’s shoulders. It was comforting. Grounding.

“No,” Lorraine said softly. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

The letters were the last connection she had to you. Your daddy had quickly emptied out yours and Roy’s rooms, labeling you both as sinners and traitors. She had been lucky enough to grab your hat before he had thrown everything out. It sat comfortably on her head right at that moment.

Her last remnants of you.

No tears came as she held the letters over the fire. The flames licked the skin of her damaged fingers. She knew, logically, it should have hurt. It didn’t. Maybe, if she kept her hand there long enough, you would appear and pull her back. You would scold her for doing something dangerous, and then you could both go to bed.

That’s all she wanted. She just wanted to go to bed.

Her fingers pried themselves away from the letters, and she watched them fall onto the bonfire. One by one they caught a spark, turning a dark brown and curling around the edges before igniting. She could see the different handwriting on each page. Beau, Huck, Jimmy. Her own. All filling the pages with their thoughts, their concerns, their feelings. Things they would never dare tell each other.

She watched the fire until the very last letter burned. Your name faded away into the orange flame. You faded away into nothing, and when your name was no longer legible, Lorraine felt her own heart go with it. There was a space shaped exactly like you within her chest. No one would ever fill it, and she didn’t want them to.

You were her heart and soul. Her home.

She would never find anyone else for as long as she lived. And then, she would find you in death.

She would find you in every lifetime. No matter how long it took.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Hey babe! Now that I can jump into people's bodies, Im looking for someone you can play around with tn💙 How do u feel about this handsome guy? I found him at the mall

I feel so strong and dominant walking around in this cop! 👮 if you want I can drive his patrol car to your office and give you a police escort home? Or I could just wait 🙄 Id love using this officer's body to scare some sense into those annoying neighbors of ours...

Wow, babe!

You sure know how to turn my day around! My jerk-of-a-boss is making me stay late again! I'd love to rip the uniform off that cop as soon as I get home, but I might be here awhile.

Hmm...

Maybe this lil army boy will change your mind! I pulled him over while wearing that cop, and I literally drooled when I saw him 😜🫡 I ordered him to step out of the vehicle so I could pat him down, and he had to do it! Anyways, I left the cop somewhere on the highway. What do ya think of this new body? I definitely like wearing him...

Wow, babe, just wow! That is one stud of a soldier. I'd love to thank him for his service, but that doesn't change the fact that I've got to finish these files by Monday. Sorry.

Youre gonna work yourself to death babe! But fine 😭 I'll just have to entertain myself tonight. Wonder what that annoying neighbor of ours is up to...

Omg, babe! I just jumped into our neighbor, and he's at work🤯👷

Check out the massive gut on this man! He's such a pig! That wife of his must be a great cook when shes not nagging us about HOA violations! Should I call her as her hubbie and start some drama lol...

Definitely, do not do that!

He may be annoying, but you don't need to end his marriage, babe.

Fine, but can I at least embarrass him in front of his coworkers? This guy could use a real humility check

Do whatever you want with him, babe. I think he could be brought down a peg. Take your time, too! I've got a few more hours left at the office unfortunately.

Ugh! Lemme see if I can change that...

There 😤

I just found that boss of yours and jumped in his body! Now I order you to come up to his office and air all your frustrations with me...

Woah! I'm running!

While I'm up there we're filing some paperwork to give me a raise and more vacation days!

Oh he'll give you everything you want with a sweet little BJ to show his appreciation 🤑👅 just hurry. Your boss is on his knees waiting...

[mama2bears]

No Christmas Vacation - Part 1

Pairings: Tyler Owens/Reader

Summary: You and Tyler are dating. He takes you for a romantic get away for Christmas, but will the weather interfere with your plans?

Warnings: None yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Tyler kisses your neck softly.

“Do we have to get up now?” you muttered rolling over to face him.

“Yeah, remember, today is the day that I am taking you on our Christmas vacation.”

With that, you smiled, sitting up in bed. Tyler had told you a few weeks ago that he wanted to take you away for Christmas. Ever since then, you had tried to get him to tell you where, but he wouldn't budge. He only told you to pack for cold. It didn't matter where you went, you were looking forward to the trip. You were looking forward to getting away for a few days.

“I made you breakfast in bed before we get started.” he said, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you a tray with pancakes, sausage, and coffee.

“That smells amazing, Ty.” You award him with a tender kiss. You met Tyler three years ago when you moved to Arkansas to follow a career in meteorology and storm chasing. Your first thought was that Tyler Owens was a cocky, reckless redneck who only wanted to be a YouTube star. It didn't take you long though to see the tender side of this cowboy tornado wrangler. He was the guy running into debris to find dogs, playing ball with a child in mist of total destruction. Tyler was both tough and tender.

“So, are you going to tell me where we are going yet?”

“Nope.” he grinned.

“How will I know if we have everything packed we need? What if it's warm? Is it going to snow? We aren't going to be chasing tornadoes, are we?” you groaned. It was two days before Christmas and while it wasn't exactly common to have tornadoes in the winter, it certainly wasn't impossible. You loved storm chasing as much as Tyler did, but not on Christmas.

“Well, we didn't pack for every season, but I think cold weather clothes will be all we need. I don't plan on any tornadoes either.”

“Well, at least you can tell me if we are driving or flying.” you said between bites of your pancake.

“Flying.” Tyler answered “...in a plane.” he added.

“No? Really? And here I thought you were superman.” you grinned.

“Maybe I am.” he winked at you.

After breakfast was over, Tyler took your tray, “I'll get our suitcases in the truck and load the dishwasher.” he offered, giving you time to take a shower and get dressed.

* * * * *

“You know, I am going to kinda miss our Christmas tree and decorations.” you say, making one more check on the door to make sure it locked and alarm set before walking to the truck. Tyler opens the door for you, “Does the hotel have a Christmas tree?” you ask getting in.

“Something like that.” he grinned.

It only took you about half an hour to get to the airport, but with the holiday crowd all traveling it took hours to get though security. Finally you make it though the airport check point and are loading the plane. Tyler still hasn't told you where you were going, but you knew you would find out soon enough.

“Welcome aboard.” a flight attendant was saying. You listened to the normal safety measures to take and then finally, “We'll be arriving in Oneida Wisconsin in about two hours. We expect fair weather.”

“Oneida Wisconsin?” you question. “What's there?”

“Well...” Tyler said sitting back in his seat, “Oneida is just the closest airport to fly into. I'll have a rental car waiting for us and then we're driving up to White Lake. We have a little secluded cabin on the lake for the next week.”

“Ty..that sounds amazing!” you squeeze his hand a little tighter as the plane takes off.

“Still nervous about flying?” he asked.

“30,000 feet is a long way to fall if something goes wrong.” you mutter.

A few hours later the plane landed safely and Tyler had collected the suitcases from the luggage claim area and was now loading it in the rental car, which wasn't a car, but a Dodge Ram truck. He always had to have a Dodge, even on vacation.

You were flipping though the radio station when you stopped on a weather report, “and we are expecting a White Christmas this year. White Lake is expected to get up to five inches of snow.”

“Did you know about this?” you asked.

Right now the day was sunny and warm...well, at least 75 and humid was warm for Wisconsin in middle of December.

“Not until yesterday, I didn't. They just started calling for snow.” he smiled, “But the cabin is going to be stock with everything we need. It even has a hot tub and fireplace.”Do you wanna build a snow man? Come on let's go and play...” Tyler started singing, making you laugh.

“This is going to be the perfect weekend.” you smile, staring out the window as the houses gave way to tall forest.

“Yes...yes it is.” Tyler smile, patting the small box that was in his jacket pocket.

“We're here.” he said turning down a small dirt road which ran for a few miles though the woods. Finally, a small wooden cabin perched on a lake came into view. A dock went out from the front yard and a small boat was tied to the dock.

As Tyler parked, you could see the cabin's porch had garland and Christmas lights wrapped around it, there was also Christmas lights running down the dock and a wreath was hung on the door and every window.

Tyler carried the bags to the cabin and entered the code that was given to him for the lock, opening the door.

“It's beautiful Ty,” you pull him into a hug. It was a one story one bedroom cabin. The living room had a brown leather sofa facing a fire place with a big screen TV hung above it. In the corner was a tall tree all decorated, completed with a star on top. The fresh smell of pine filled the room.

“Merry Christmas Darling,” Tyler kissed you softly, then picked up the bags, heading towards the bedroom, then stops in the door way, “Hey, Darling...come here.” he smiles, dropping the bags on the floor and pulls you into a long, slow, deep kiss.

“What did I do to deserve that?” you asked, eyes dancing with excitement.

He kisses you again and points up, to the mistletoe hang above the doorway. “Rules are rules...gotta kiss every time we pass though the door.”

“So, cowboy, what do you have planned for us first?” you grin.

“Well..since today is so warm, I thought maybe we could take the boat out?” he offered and paused, looking towards the bed, “unless you had something else in mind.”

“Oh..tempting, very tempting.” you kissed him, and lead him back towards the living room, “However, I think I'll choose take the boat out, but when we come back.” she winked, “Well, let's just see what happens.”

Tyler went into the kitchen to find that the cabin owner had stalked it well, as agreed, including a chilled bottle of wine. He fixed some sandwiches and grabbed the wine and a couple of glasses, checking his pocket again to make sure the little box was still there. He put the food and wine in a wicker basket, grabbed a blanket off of the sofa, “Ready” he asked, almost unable to contain his excitement.

You laugh at him, following him out the door, “What is so exciting about a boat ride?” you ask. The way he was acting you would have thought that he was chasing a F5 tornado.

“Come on, you'll see!” he was practically skipping down the dock and you couldn't help but laugh. One thing about Tyler Owens was that he had a way of making your heart soar. When you were with him, you were carefree. He had a way of showing you joy in every moment.

[luna-andra]

Domesticated!König Headcanons ✨

Image: @Jispooks (Source)

Some HCS I thought up of for funsies, take it with a grain of salt if you disagree with any of it. And let me know what you would think differently! If this gets any love, I have a couple of more headcanon ideas to post as well, so please support my delusions of grandeur!

Part 2 is out! StepDad!Konig

Adjusting to civilian lifestyle for König proved to be challenging. Thankfully, he had you to help him along the way.

If you're not from Austria, König will compromise with spending summers in Vienna in the vacation home and live full-time with you in your home county (or wherever the hell you decide to choose. As long as he's not a convicted war criminal there.)

König tends to keep his PTSD episodes in check for the most part, except when he has a few drinks. He opts to sleep in the guest room after scaring you one night from the terrors. The years away from his past life helps them fade, but he will always carry that shit with him.

You help him job hunt. Blue-collar work was for him, the less human interaction, the better.

With that being said, König insists on DIY-ing every problem in the house. He tried figuring it out with his own basic knowledge, but became unstoppable when you introduced him to the DIY side if YouTube. Some projects had him at his wits end, and when you hear him cuss up a storm in German, you have to hold your laughter back until you're out of earshot.

The grocery bill. That's all I gotta say.

Add a couple more bills on it if you got a kid(s).

Most days, König is careful with not trekking mud in from the job site, leaving his boots in the garage/on the front porch. If it slips his mind, you know he's tired. It took a couple of scoldings to figure it out, but he does his best to make it up to you.

König had been okay with living where you wanted to, but he doubled down on living somewhere secluded, or at least outside of the city. Meaning longer drives/day trips if you wanted to shop at outlets. Totally fine, you talk his ear off during the drive to catch up on what he's missed out on during his long week of work.

Tons of nature hikes. If you weren't used to the outdoors, König would get you shaped up. He was so damn proud of you when you stopped relying on GPS and used maps/surroundings/cardinal directions, etc.

Dog or cat family, but I also see him being a reptile dad, too.

WANTS KIDS. THE MORE, THE BETTER. He wants to age and be surrounded by his kids & grandkids every holiday.

When you would go out on dates/shopping trips, there was no avoiding the double takes and stares. You man was giant, it wasn't something he could help. It would grind on his nerves when it came from grown ass adults, but he had a soft spot for children. They didn't know better, so he'd flash a friendly smile or wave so they're not afraid. Those moments would bring back the baby fever for him.

Nothing made König more happy than coming back home to the home you two have made after an adventurous day, watching you saunter happily to the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks to settle down into the plush couch next to him to watch some movies. Your choice, always. And if that baby fever was raging, he would toss you over his shoulder to settle that urge in the bedroom 😏

If this does well, I'll consider posting some other headcanons I have been thinking of! Likes & reblogs are always appreciated <3

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

[captainsophiestark]

A Much-Needed Vacation

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson is often up to his neck in vampire business and drama, especially when his brother's around to add more. Fortunately, he has someone in his life who can make him take a break when he needs it.

Word Count: 1,703

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Hey babe, do you want some coffee?"

I poured myself a mug, waiting to hear a response from my husband, Elijah Mikaelson. When the silence stretched on with no answer, I turned, a concerned frown on my face. I found Elijah right where I'd left him, hunched over papers at the table in the study.

"'Lij? Hello?"

Still, he didn't stir. I moved closer, waiting for him to look up at me, but he just kept his gaze locked on the papers before him. I could see his lips moving, mumbling to himself about whatever nonsense he was pouring over. With all the drama and difficulty his family kicked up or got thrown into in this town, it was hard to keep track.

I was about to tap his shoulder and, if that didn't work, shake him, but before I could his phone rang. He startled, his attention finally shooting up, and glanced at the caller ID before picking up.

"Niklaus. What is it?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes. No doubt, this would be some other world-ending problem that absolutely could not be taken care of without Elijah's full attention. I absolutely loved my husband and his family, but sometimes, they were well and truly ridiculous.

After a few moments of intense conversation, Elijah hung up and set the phone on the table with a sigh. He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair before turning to me. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen him look so absolutely exhausted.

"I'm sorry, my love. Were you trying to ask me something?"

I frowned, chewing on my lip as I took the seat next to Elijah. He took my hand in his, attention now fully on me, as I scanned his lined face.

"I'd ask if everything is okay, but I feel like I know the answer."

Elijah sighed again and shook his head.

"It's always some new problem in this city. At least this time Niklaus isn't asking me to do anything, yet. I just need to make sure he doesn't dig himself a hole he can't get out of while I'm not looking."

I watched Elijah carefully as he took his breather, staring at the table and all the papers spread out before him. He looked exhausted, showing his thousand years of age for one of the first times I'd ever seen, and I hated to see him like this. Slowly, a plan started forming in my mind.

"'Lij... you said none of this is anything pressing you have to help with, right?"

"Not yet, at least."

I smiled, although Elijah didn't catch it. Probably for the best. He knew me well enough that it would tell him something was up.

"Okay. Then just wait here a second. I'll be back, and then we're going for a drive."

He turned his gaze to me now, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. I just beamed back at him.

"...What are you planning?"

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see!"

Without waiting for a response, I popped up from my seat and headed for the stairs. I could feel Elijah's eyes following me, but evidently he was too tired to actually get up and investigate what I was doing.

As soon as I reached our bedroom, I threw some clothes into a duffle bag for each of us, enough of everything we'd need for a few days. I paused long enough to quickly check my phone and, luckily, found us two seats on the next flight to Florida.

We didn't have much time to spare before the plane left, so I headed back downstairs with the bag over my shoulder, aiming for Elijah. He always took care of me, and now, I was going to do the same. He clearly needed a break, and I was going to make sure he got it.

"Alright, get up," I said, coming to a stop in front of my husband. "We're going for a drive."

He tore his eyes away from his papers to look me up and down, his eyes lingering on the bag on my shoulder. When our gazes met, he raised an eyebrow in question, but I just grinned at him in answer.

"I take it if I try to tell you I need to stay and work on this, you'll do everything in your power to make me get up and leave?"

"Oh yeah."

He sighed, but pushed back from the table anyway. He stood in front of me, close enough that we were almost chest to chest, and I know he didn't miss my heart speeding up a little at the closeness.

"Alright then. Let's go."

I got Elijah loaded up in the car, then started heading for the airport. I knew it wouldn't be long before he asked where we were going, but as far as I was concerned, I'd already gotten him to the point of no return.

Elijah didn't say much as we drove. He just watched the city go by around us, clearly trying to figure out where we were going. I could tell the moment it clicked as he inhaled deeply, then turned to me.

"Are you driving us to the airport?"

I just grinned.

Elijah shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. I just laughed.

"You clearly need a break, Elijah. As your loving partner and best friend, it's my job to make sure you take one. Especially when I know you, and I know you won't take one on your own."

Elijah just shook his head again, but when I glanced over at him I could see the smile growing on his face all the same.

"So, then... where are we going?"

"Somewhere nice and warm and relaxing, far from all this vampire bullshit."

****************

A few hours later, Elijah and I were stepping out of the airport and into the warm Florida sunshine. I'd booked us a hotel on the beach, and after a quick pause to drop off our bags and change into swimsuits, Elijah and I were walking hand in hand down the beach with our feet in the Atlantic ocean.

"I think we need to do this more often," I mused as we strolled. Elijah took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, a smile remaining on his face as he looked at me.

"I agree. And thank you for organizing this, today. Sometimes it can be hard to leave in the middle of... everything my brother gets involved in."

"I know," I said, giving him a small smile and nudging his shoulder with mine. "But that's what I'm here for. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't return the favor when you made me put down the books and study guides every once in a while when I got a little too intense at school?"

Elijah chuckled, pulling me a little closer to him and moving to wrap his arm around my shoulders instead. He kissed my temple and we came to a stop, Elijah and I facing each other. I beamed up at him, leaning in closer for a real kiss, when I was interrupted by the sound of Elijah's ringtone.

We both scowled in sync, Elijah sighing before reaching for his phone. I raised an eyebrow at him and he shot me an apologetic look, but a glance at the caller ID had him picking up anyway. Klaus, again.

"Niklaus, what-"

This time, I couldn't take it. I cut Elijah off as I snatched the phone out of his hand, holding it to my own ear instead.

"Hey Nik! Is this a life and death emergency?"

"What? No, it's a matter of keeping this town in check. Now put my brother back on the phone."

"No. He needs a break, so he's on forced vacation for the next forty-eight hours. We'll be back on Monday morning, but in the meantime, consider Elijah's phone off. And I swear Nik, if you call him again, I will hurl this phone into the depths of the ocean where it will never be found again."

I heard Klaus take in a deep breath, the likes of which I only heard before he launched into some threatening tirade, but I'd known him long enough that I wasn't about to let it get to me.

"Nik, you know me. I don't put my foot down like this often, and I even help you guys with your power brokering bullshit when I can. But this time, I'm not budging. Elijah needs a break, and I need to see my husband outside of when we're threatening other New Orleans factions. You can give us two days."

Silence on the other end of the line. Elijah and I made eye contact as he raised an eyebrow at me. I just shrugged, and a second later, I heard a low growl from Nik.

"Fine. You get two days. But if I don't see you on Monday morning-"

"Don't worry! You will."

With that, I hung up and slipped the phone into my own pocket, with a grin at Elijah. Not many people could get away with hanging up on the Big Bad Wolf himself, but I'd been a part of the Mikaelson family for long enough that I could. Elijah shook his head at me, but he had a gigantic smile on his face nonetheless.

"I don't think I'll ever tire of you doing that to my siblings," he said. I grinned, then leaned in for a quick kiss. Elijah wrapped his arms around me, following after me as I pulled away.

"I hope you know I meant what I said about hurling your phone in the ocean if Nik calls you again."

"Oh, I know. But a phone is a small price to pay for a weekend like this, with you."

"I'm glad you agree."

I gave Elijah a little smirk as he wrapped his arms tighter around me, slowly closing the distance between us again. I didn't hesitate to help him, losing myself in our kiss as the waves splashed gently against my calves. I was going to make the most of this little peaceful haven Elijah and I had made, for as long as I possibly could.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[hardcandycigarette]

Long Way Down Part One

Part Three

Here's the story of married Harry who's a dad to three small kiddos, and married for over seven years to Y/N. Marriage is always hard work, but what happens when being married to a pop star becomes too much for Y/N?

WARNING-slight references to sex, curse words

This is angst angst and more angst. There are other parts to the story, and with enough feedback, I'll post more to this story.

Word Count 4.7K

“Japan. Chile. Australia. Oh, and let's not forget Madagascar. Mada-Fucking-gascar, Harry. Who goes to Madagascar? Why the one and only Harry Styles? That's who. You realize most people never see any of those places in an entire lifetime, right? But you, you went to all of those places THIS YEAR!” Y/N stomps to their daughter's room picks her up from her crib, hoists the baby on her hip, and walks out of the nursery and down the hall.

Harry follows her to the kid’s bathroom. "Y/N, baby, it was all for work. I don't care about those places, don't even get to enjoy them."

"It doesn't matter. You still got to go. And that's in addition to your normal New York, LA, often Paris or Rome. Those places are just another day at the office for you. Do you want to know where I've been? Whole Foods. Baby Gym. Holmes Chapel. The park. School runs. Yep, that’s about it. Oh, the doctors, and kids' birthday parties; on wild days, a friend comes for a glass of wine when I can finally relax at 9 PM. So don’t do this with me, not this time.” She begins to undress the baby. She’s seething but keeps her voice down so the little one isn’t upset.

“Do you know how many days you’ve been home since the tour ended? I’ll tell you because I know exactly. 26. You could’ve paid someone to do your dirty laundry and brought home clean clothes. Even the slightest gesture to show you get how hard it is around here.”

“I’m sorry. I was so focused on just getting home I didn’t even think of having them done.” Harry turns on the bath water and tests the temperature.

“Oh, poor thing. Traveling the world in the lap of luxury must be torture.”

Harry walks to the door. "No, Y/N, no. You know what a tour is like. You've been on the road with me. You know how utterly chaotic it is. Yes, I should've thought about the laundry, but I didn’t.”

She places the baby in her bathtub seat, squats, and begins soaping her up. “Of course, you didn’t think of me.”

Harry is leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom now. “Babe, swear if you give me just a bit to decompress, I'll be happy to give you whatever ya need. We’ll take a family vacation, go someplace nice, the five of us, any place you like, you pick.” He extends his hands in her direction.

“You've been home 26 days. That's how long you've had to decompress.” She uses air quotes around decompress. You've done zero loads of laundry. I do at least four a day, trying to catch up with everything. Laundry never ends even when it’s just me and the kids. You leave a trail of mess in every room. You do nothing to help, nothing. It’s like you’ve completely checked out on the fact this is supposed to be a partnership.”

“My job isn’t just dancing around in sparkly trousers for an hour or two. I’m fucking exhausted too. You’re not playin’ fair, Y/N.”

"Thing is, I'm not playing at all, Harry.”

“A vacation with the five of us is a vacation to you, Harry, not to me. I love you guys, I really do, but I need a break. I needed this just for me. I wasn't asking for much, Harry. Five days for myself, time to decompress, as you call it. I wanted to be with my friends and sisters, but you know what, never mind. Go. Just go. We’ll talk about it when I’ve put her to bed.”

“I’ll put her to bed.” He closes the door behind him when he steps out.

Harry hears her singing Adore You. The song always makes the baby smile. Y/N can’t be completely furious if she’s still singing his songs. Harry couldn’t be more wrong.

When Y/N finishes with the bath, she wraps her daughter in her little duck towel with a hood and exits the bathroom. Their son’s door is cracked down the hall, and she hears Harry talking with him. She stands just outside the entrance to eavesdrop.

“That sounds like a good time, buddy. I’m glad you had fun with your friend. Did you make sure to hug him and say thank you before you left his house? Did you thank his family for having you over?”

“Yes.” He sounds so tiny for someone who wrecked Y/N’s nerves with his big voice the entire time Harry was gone.

“So, let’s get snug as a bug in a rug.” Harry wraps the blanket over their son and kisses his forehead. "Have a good sleep, and we'll have some fun in the morning, yeah?”

“Love you, Dad.”

Harry walks across the room and turns off the light. “Love you even more, bud. See you in the morning.” He closes the door when he leaves the room.

“Thank you.”

“He’s m’ son too, Y/N.” Harry walks toward the couple’s room, head hanging down; he drags his finger along the wall.

He doesn’t stick around to help put Lola down, be it because he forgot he said he would put her to bed or he's just upset.

Y/N walks to Lola’s nursery, dries and lotions her, dresses her for bed, and places her in the crib, hoping she will go down without a fight. "Love you, punkin’. Good night.” She kisses her and stands near the bed. She waits to see if she cries. When she only babbles, y/n turns on the baby monitor and nightlight, then crosses the room, turning off the light as she exits, but only closes the door partially.

Y/N heads toward the bedroom, dreading how the rest of the evening will go. Harry is sitting on the bed reading a book about Japanese art, his readers slide down his nose as he pretends to be intensely focused, but she knows him and knows he’s not focused.

She walks to the dresser, opens a drawer, and gets some pjs. She’s too pissed off to bother with a shower but goes to the ensuite to undress. “Don’t have to pretend you’re reading Harry.” She changes her clothes and tosses the dirty clothes in the hamper, does her skincare, and brushes her teeth. She picks up a pair of Harry’s gross, beat-up sneakers as she enters the bedroom. "These are nice," she says, tossing them across the room.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. I know what you're doing. You're not getting a fight out of me, so toss all the shoes you want. I'm not going to argue with you. The passive-aggressive stuff stopped working a long time ago."

She exhales and sits on the bed. "Not being passive, Harry, just aggressive. I'm tired. I'm so tired." She falls back on the bed.

He crawls over to her and plants a kiss on her lips. “Mmm, minty.” He smiles.

“Yep.” She closes her eyes.

He kisses her again. “Come over here; Let’s have a snuggle and a good night’s sleep.”

“I can’t tonight. I just can’t.” She sighs as she climbs to the pillows, placing her head down on the fluffiest one-her favorite one.

“Can’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. I don't know your pattern exactly; whenever you want to get frisky. Just met you, have no idea what you're like when you want to pretend an argument didn't happen, makeup, move past it, and get what you want.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. He swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head in disbelief. “Wow. I can’t believe you just said that. That’s one of the worst things you’ve ever said to me. To imply I manipulate you for sex.” Harry stands, grabs his pillow, and walks to the door. “I’ll be in the guestroom.”

The following day she slowly opens her eyes and reaches over to Harry, but he’s not there. She thought that after he cooled off, he'd return to bed. She thought he’d slip under the covers once he knew it was safe and she was asleep. But he didn't come back to bed. She sits up and looks around the room. Gross sneakers are still across the room, three of Harry's hoodies over the recliner, one of Lola’s toys, and an empty water bottle next to Harry’s wallet -the room is a disaster. She sighs, rubs her face, and flops back down. The house is quiet, almost too quiet. Why is it so quiet? In a panic, she sits up, throws on her robe, and walks to the door. She flings it open and rushes down the hall. When she gets to Lola's room, she pushes open the door; the light is off, and Harry, bare-chested, sits in the recliner, rocking her. "Is she sick? What time is it? Where is everyone?"

"No, she's not sick, Y/N, she's m’ daughter, and she needed a cuddle with her daddy."

"Oh. Look about last night…."

"Not right now, Y/N. Let me enjoy this. Archer and Poppy are in the playroom watching a film. They’ve had their breakfast.”

She nods and leaves the room. She can’t hold back her tears as she walks to the kitchen. But her tears abruptly halt when she enters the filthy kitchen. Harry obviously made breakfast for everyone. Pancakes and bacon are covered with a cloth and a note with Mumma written in crayon to let her know it is hers. But the tenderness she feels doesn’t last long as she scans the kitchen. The dirty plates, cups, pots, and pans litter the kitchen and breakfast nook. The stove is splattered with grease and batter, and God knows what else. She starts to gather the dishes to clean them and load the dishwasher. Once everything is in the sink, she sits at the table in the breakfast nook, picking at the plate of food left for her. She isn’t hungry. Lately, she never is.

"Not as good as yours, but not half bad.” Harry breaks the silence as he stands next to the fridge arms folded over his muscular chest.

“Where is-“

“Living room in her pack-n-play.”

“Okay.” She picks up a slice of bacon and bites into it. She tosses it back on the plate.

She stands, walks to the sink, and begins cleaning off the excess food.

“I was going to do that as soon as I got done with the baby. I didn't have time to juggle it all."

“Really? Didn’t have time? Couldn’t juggle it all? That’s rich.” She shakes her head and chuckles as she places the cutlery into the designated basket in the dishwasher.

He shakes his head, looking at the ground. He cocks his mouth to the side and clicks his tongue. "Touche." He walks over and begins placing the dishes in the dishwasher.

She moves, allowing him the glamorous opportunity of a lifetime. “Wonder when the last time you did this was. Long before X-Factor, I’m sure.”

“Don’t.” Harry scrapes off a dish.

“But why not? You get to have all the fun. You get to do all the talking. You get to see all the things. Meet all the people. You get it all.” She leans against the counter, tapping her fingers.

“Y/N, I’m warning you-don’t.”

Her eyes widen, and she stands with a smirk on her face. This man bought all the audacity. “Warning me? Warning me? What are you going to do if I don't stop? Nothing.”

To get her attention, he throws a glass, aiming it at the sink, but not realizing the force behind it, it crashes into the stainless steel and shatters.

They both jump back, then freeze.

He reaches toward Y/N. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to."

“Get out. I mean it, Harry. And I don’t mean the kitchen. You leave this house. You leave this house now, and don’t come back.” Her words are low and deliberate as she stares at the floor.

“That was out of order what just happened. I'm sorry; you know I'd never lay a hand on you or do anything in the world to scare you. Don't know what came over me."

“I said get out.”

“Excuse me? Don’t come back to my own frickin' house? You've got to be kidding. I'm doing no such thing, Y/N. Will I go downstairs and stay in the entertainment room or sleep in the guest room? Sure. Will I take the kids out for the day? Sure. But leave? No. We’ve never spent one day apart in anger, and we aren’t starting now, so get that idea out of your little head.” He points to his temple, gritting his teeth.

“Fine, then I will.” She pushes him out of the way when she passes him to leave the kitchen.

Harry follows her. “You’ll what, Y/N?” He grabs her arm, attempting to stop her.

“Get your damn hand off of me, you big bully.” She jerks away, storming toward the bedroom.

Harry goes to the living room to get Lola. He hears their bedroom door slam. Poor girl is probably scared. She’s never heard people shout before, especially her mama or daddy. And now her mama says she’s leaving? The words don’t even sound right when Harry says them to himself. Harry approaches the bedroom, tapping on the door. “Y/N, the baby, it’s time for her feeding.”

She marches toward him and takes the baby. “Of course it is; one more thing your pathetic ass can't do around here. Now, get out." She pushes against the door.

Harry walks out and closes the door.

***

Downstairs, Harry talks to Poppy and Archie, making sure that if they heard the yelling, they aren't scared. "Arch, you okay, bud?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look up just keeps playing with the Barbie and Ken dolls.

“Pop, you doing okay?"

“Yes, daddy. Are you?” She walks over and hugs his legs.

“Yes, baby, Daddy is fine. Are you guys in the mood for a trip to the zoo? Maybe some pizza and ice cream after?

“Yeah.” Poppy detaches herself from her daddy and jumps up and down.

“Can we go now?” Archer says, dropping the dolls and standing up.

"We can. Let's go get dressed, yeah?" Harry walks toward the stairs to the home's main floor.

The kids follow him up.

“Are mumma and the baby coming?” Poppy asks.

"Not sure, baby girl.”

Archer interjects. “If they’re gonna yell, I hope not."

Harry turns around. "There won't be any yelling, buddy, but that's not nice what you just said. We never say things like that, especially about your mummy or baby sister. We always want them included in whatever we do, always. Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

Archer is crying now. "Sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean it."

At the top landing of the stairs, Harry stops and kneels to Archer putting his arms around him. "Come here. Let's hug Daddy, yeah?"

Archer slowly puts his arms around Harry’s neck. “Didn’t mean it, Dad.”

"I know, buddy, we're all having a bad day, but what is the one, very most important rule in this house."

“Treat people with kindness.” Archer releases himself from the embrace.

"That's right, treat one another with kindness and love and goodness."

Archer sniffles. “I will.”

“All right, to our rooms, we go.” Harry leads the kids into the hall.

Harry feels like his heart just broke in two. The one thing they’d both agreed on before having kids is they would raise them in a peaceful home. They both came from divorced parents and knew what it was like when the family was immensely unhappy.

Harry ushers the kids to their rooms once back in the central portion of the house. "Okay, lollipop, do you need daddy's help getting dressed? Or do you want to try by yourself today?"

“I can do it, Daddy,” Poppy says. She pushes her blonde curls off her face.

"Good girl. Now, if you need me, call me, okay? And if you want something hanging up, remember no climbing; call for me, and I'll get it.” Harry pats her on the back.

“Okay.” Poppy skips to her room.

“Arch, do you need help?" Harry asks, following Archer as he walks to the room next to Poppy's.

“No, I got it.”

"Okay, guys, I'm going to help mummy with Lola. I'll be just down the hall."

Harry takes his time to get to the end of the hall. He taps on the door before entering. “Love?” He pokes his head in the door.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.” She snuggles the baby closer as she nurses her.

“Gonna take the big kids to the zoo. Can I take Lola?”

"She's your baby too, Harry. Please don't ask me a question like that. Of course, you can take her.”

“All right, by the time I'm dressed, she should be finished, and I'll get her ready." Harry walks to the bathroom.

“Pretty sure I’m capable of getting my child dressed,” she mumbles.

Harry snaps around. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?" He's angry, but he keeps his voice down. "First, I do nothing, and then you pop off like that when I try to do something." Harry turns to walk back to the ensuite.

"Daddy's a grumpy pants, isn't he, baby girl? It's okay; you've got a mummy. She’ll take care of you, just like she always has.”

Harry stomps out of the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste. “No, Y/N. No. You aren’t going to do that shit," he says, toothpaste foaming from his mouth as he flings the toothbrush and points it toward her.

She sighs. “Okay, Harry, whatever."

“Whatever? Whatever?” I’m done with this Y/N. Do what you will, hate me if you want, but don’t bad mouth me to our kids.” He walks again to the bathroom sink, and turns on the water, rinses his mouth out, dries it off.

“It’s not exactly like she understands what I’m saying.”

"Not exactly the point, Y/N.” He returns to the bedroom, then walks to the recliner, grabs a hoodie, and puts it on as he approaches the bed. "These babies are my entire life, Y/N. You know that, so think what you will of me as a husband, lover, and partner, but don’t you ever talk about me like that to our children.”

She’s burping the baby now, patting her on the back. “The kids are your entire life? I get it. Performing is your first love. No room for me.” She pulls her bottom lip in with her teeth and stares at nothing, looking at anything but Harry. Her eyes water, holding onto her tears.

Harry walks to her side of the bed. “You know that’s not what I meant, baby.” He sits on the bed next to her, his voice calmer now.

“No, I get it, Harry. Trust me, I do. I wouldn't blame you if you stopped loving and wanting me. Furthermore, why would you want any of this? I mean, look at this whole thing, and then there’s me. I’m a mess.”

“I’m looking at you. I see you. What are you talking about? And I love this mess, and I love you.” He places his hand on her knee. He pushes his eyebrows together and searches her face.

“It’s over, Harry.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You’re tired and frustrated, but that’s life. It’s not over.”

"It wasn't a question." She hands Lola to him and stands. She tugs at the bottom of her t-shirt, the shirt she borrowed from him when they were dating and never gave it back. It's faded and stretched out, a picture of One Direction but with the words Spice Girls written on it.

Harry says nothing and watches her. She walks to the closet, grumbles, and grunts, knocking about with a few curse words sprinkled in. Once she finds what she's looking for, she returns to the bedroom, drops a suitcase on the bed, and then unzips it.

"Y/N, baby, what are you doing?"

"I told you I'm leaving. You didn't think taking the kids to the zoo would stop that did you?"

“This is crazy. I’m gonna put Lola in her crib. I’ll be back.” Harry stands, walks across the room, and exits.

A few moments later, he returns. She removes clothes from the dresser. Harry approaches her and places his hand on her elbow. "Baby, let's talk about this. You can leave me, in theory, until we can figure something out, but you can't just walk out on the kids."

She shrugs him off her. “Don’t touch me. There is nothing to figure out, not between us. As for the kids, of course, I'm not leaving them forever, don't be so dramatic, but I am leaving for now."

She goes to the bathroom. Harry can hear her gathering items from the vanity. He sits on the bed, dropping his head in his hands, then lifts his head resting his fingers tips under his chin. He stares at two crayons on the floor under the dresser. He makes that his sole focus, unable to look at her when Y/N returns and tosses the cosmetics bag into the suitcase. She huffs and sighs.

“I might not help as much as I should. I get it, but this, this is one time I’m not lifting a finger to help you. So you can cut the sound effects.”

There’s a soft knock at the door before the handle turns, and small hands push the door open. “Daddy, are we going to the zoo?”

Tears have started to roll down Harry’s cheeks. He wipes his face and sniffs before Poppy comes in. “Yes, baby girl, but give Daddy a minute. Go play nice in your room. I’ll come to get you when it’s time. And Poppy, please wait to be invited in before opening the door. You know the rules.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, she pulls the door closed.

"You see that, Y/N. Our kids need us. Our kids know when something's wrong. They heard our shouting earlier. We can't do this around them." He stands and walks over to her. "Listen, let me call Mitch and Sarah, and see if they can take them for the night, yeah? Or Jeff and Glenne might not mind, then we'll get dressed, go have a nice dinner, come home, and relax, just the two of us.”

“Why so you can get laid, Harry?”

"Y/N, where is all of this coming from? That's the second time you've remarked that I’m somehow this sex-crazed maniac that has to jump through hoops to trick his wife into having sex with him, yet you also say there is no way I could still want you.”

She shoves sneakers into the suitcase. “Oh, believe me, I know you can find someone to have sex with, no doubt about that." She shakes her head and smirks. "Never had any problem getting that, did you?"

“What is wrong with you? Do you think I’ve been with someone else? Is that what’s got you like this?”

She continues throwing things in the suitcase, then zips it up. She returns to the closet, retrieves another bag, unzips it, kicks it along the floor, and continues packing. “I told you. I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired. I’m forgetful because I’m overwhelmed. Important things aren’t given their proper attention. I mess up more often than I will admit. This isn’t good.”

“If this is about going out of town on that girls’ trip, then go.” He extends his foot and closes the top of the luggage. “Have fun. Go, but don’t ruin our family just because you weren’t getting your way.”

“Fuck you, Harry. Because I wasn’t getting my way? It’s not that. It’s that it’s always about you. Always. It’s when are you leaving, when are you coming back, coming in late from the studio, FaceTiming at 3 AM just so I can see you and hear your voice, important events, meetings, everything is about you, and I'm sick of it. You know you're the one that wanted a third baby, or hell, a second baby, for that matter. I was happy when it was just the three of us, all traveling together, but you wanted a larger family, and as usual, I wanted to give you what you wanted.”

He stands next to her, reaches over and takes her face in his hands, and turns her toward him. He sees her face, but she’s a stranger. He hadn’t noticed the new lines between her eyebrows, the dark circles under her eyes, or the sallow shade of her skin. “Tell me you don't regret Poppy and Lola. Please tell me you don't regret those two perfect little girls. Because I love you, Y/N, but if you tell me you regret them, I can't forgive you. Ever.”

She pulls away. "I do regret the timing. I should've insisted you take a multi-year hiatus before expanding our family because I made my life worse to make your life better."

He drops his hands from her and walks across the room to the window, which overlooks the expansive garden below. “Worse? How could anything about those babies make your life worse? Take it back before I say something that can’t be unsaid.” You knew what you were signing up for, Y/N. You knew the life I live and how hard it would be, but you said ‘I do’, you agreed this was the life we would live,” he says.

“You don’t see that even then, it was about you. It was what I agreed to, but what about me? What did you agree to do for me? What sacrifices were you willing to make? I gave up my career, so I could give you a home, take care of the kids, and always be available to support you in anything you needed me to support you in, travel with you." Sitting on the bed, she shoves her legs into her denim flares and stands. She walks over to the dresser and retrieves a black sports bra.

Harry turns to her. "Okay, what do you need? What do you need my support with? Besides the house, the kids? What is it that you’re missing?

She removes her t-shirt and puts on the bra. "Everything."

“You've got to give me specifics, love. Have to help me here, at least with this. I can't read minds, baby. Believe me, if I could, this wouldn't be happening." He walks to her.

She pulls on a lightweight black sweater. "I need you to know me, Harry.” She goes back to the luggage, bends down, and zips closed the second bag. “I needed you to pay attention, to see that I’m drowning here.”

"Okay. We'll have the maid come more days during the week, and we'll get a sitter, nanny, or whatever will make life easier for you. After the three nights in Manchester, I'll devote my time to you. But I have a contract I have to do these nights in Manchester, besides it’s kind of home. We can stay at Mum’s. All of us go together.”

“It’s not just about the housework or the kids. And I don’t want to follow you to Manchester. I need you. I need a husband, a partner, not a sugar daddy who keeps knocking me up.”

“Oh, get off it. Lola's over a year old, and never do I push you for sex, not ever.”

“Whatever.” She pulls the two suitcases upright, rolls them to the door, exits, walks down the hall, and passes the three bedrooms along the corridor. She can't stop, or she'll never go; if she stays, she'll make things worse. She knows she's on the brink of breaking completely.

Harry is behind her.

They make it to the front door, and she slides her feet into her loafers. As she opens the door, she turns to him. "Everything you need to know about your kids is in a folder on my desk in the office. There’s frozen milk in the fridge.”

He reaches out, but she shakes her head. “Don’t.” She snatches her purse from the hook by the front door.

"Y/N, please, baby."

"Goodbye, Harry." With that, she steps out, dragging the luggage behind her. She doesn't look back.

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[quitealotofsodapop]

Imagine this for post jttw.

There's a really, really important festival coming up for FFM. Soemthing similar to Qingming, specifically to remember and celebrate those lost to the Great Burning and the War, and it's something that's SUPER stressful for Wukong because, well, he feels that he has to get this right no matter what! It was HIS foolishness that led to the War and the Burning, so the least he can do is try to make sure it's perfect for the monkeya who make a pilgrimage line to participate in the festival. Normally, he has Macaque there to keep him in check and help him out.

But this time, Macaque isn't there! He's still missing!

MK knows this is a very stressful time for his mom, especially since this is the first time he had to go through the ceremony and festival without his dad. He wants to help! He asks Pigsy for vacation time, about a week or two off so he can help his mom with preparations. This is the first time MK has ever asked for time off, he never asks for it off even when he gets hurt doing his Monkie Kid thing! So, of course, Pigsy is concerned and asks.

MK: It's just... there's this important festival going on up on the mountain soon, and it's really stressing Mom out. It's supposed to be a remembrance of those we've lost and the celebration of how our ancestral hone has healed from near destruction. Mom is trying to put it together all by himself since Dad is gone, and I'm worried about him, so I just want to help him out! Do my part as the Prince of Flower Fruit Mountain."

Of course, the group decided to get involved. Both because they don't want Wukong getting stressed out and also because they really wanna see the festival! When they head up the mountain, they find that MK was right to worry. Poor Wukong is a mess as he tries to juggle getting the bonfires ready, getting his ceremonial robes cleaned and refitted, writing a speech that isn't a rehash of what he did the last 100 years, dealing with his anxiety over said speech because of his stage fright, caring for the cubs and making sure they're not gonna cause chaos, figuring out travel routes for those who live away from the mountain, etc.

+a similar ask from @soniclozdplove;

Had to do some thinkings for this one;

Qingming is a Spring festival (April 4th this year), so I can imagine the "Memorial Day" for the Burning taking place between then and New Years.

Wukong has hosted the Memorial Day just fine in the previous years... but then again, Macaque was always at his side in those years. Without his mate beside him, Wukong starts feeling the pressure of organising such an important yearly event (not to mention him missing Mac so much he feels sick, but that could also just be pregnancy nausea).

MK has goofed around a lot in terms of his responsibilities as Prince - it comes with the casual nature of FFM. This year he wants to step up and help his mom with stuff he's worried about. Wukong tells MK he really doesn't have to, but is clearly delighted to have someone step in to help.

MK immediately runs to Mei, breathlessly explaining that he needs help organising the Memorial Festival since he has no idea what he's doing!

With a touch of her phone, Mei organises the crack team of party planners;

Mei: "Ok, what's Monkey King most worried about?" MK, counting off his fingers: "One, the festival tends to have bonfires on the beach that get doused at the end of the night to symbolise the fires on the mountain being quenched (mom really doesn't like fire). There's a lot of music and dancing involved." Mei, points to the line-up: "Red Boy! You're on pyrotechnics! I'll man the tunes! Jin and Yin will organise the dance floor!" Red, grumbling: "Stop calling me Red Boy." Jin & Yin: "Yea!" "We've helped out before!" "Course normally big brother supervised, but we can do it with our eyes closed!" MK: "Two; Transport for monkeys living on the mainland so that they can attend the festival." Sandy: "Oh I can do that! I ferry people across all the time!" MK: "Great! Next is someone to man the food stations. A lot of it is fresh fruit and vegetables, but there's normally a pot luck table with grills and soup pots going. Pigsy, can you pretty please help manage that?" Pigsy, determined look in his eyes: "If you insist." MK: "Fourth; Mom gets super nervous about the yearly speech he does to the subjects, so he'll need someone to help him out with that." Tang, hands shoots up: "OH OH! I can help! I do lectures and presentations all the time at work!" MK: "Ok, phew! That's a lot of the heavy work sorted out. The major one, and this is a doozy cus baba normally does it; someone to keep an eye on the cubs during the festival." Noodle Gang: (*look confusedly between themselves*) DBK, sudden booming voice: "I will be honoured to care for my xiandi's young for the durration of the Festival!" MK: "Wait, really? But aren't you nervous about people still being mad about the whole "Tried to Take Over the City"-thing?" DBK: "Boy, my wife and I tended to you in the years following your birth! Your parents were still busy rebuilding, and you were quite a troublemaker for someone not able to walk yet!" MK, embarrassed: "Guess that answers that question. Thank you guys." (*getting emotional*) Mei: "Aww, come here little monkey man." MK: (*gets group hugged*)

The day comes and... literally, almost everything doesn't go as planned.

Red Son misjudged the amount of fuel needed to start a bonfire and accidentally sets the whole beach alight before the party even starts. PIF (wind powers) and the others (extinguishers) help put it out, but the sand is noticibly scorched. Red insists on spending half the day trying to start bonfires "the old fashioned way" with flint, to avoid similar accidents. Red panics cus he's worried that his magic fire could trigger the monkeys who survived the Burning.

Sandy has to make multiple trips to and from the mainland to FFM, and hits a rough patch of rain as he's coming in. PIF sees the rain clouds ahead and uses her powers to blow them away for now. Hopefully that wont come back to bite them (lie). Each of are the Four Stalwarts arrive on different trips, and try their best to help out.

Mei is used to high-energy dance and rock music, and has no idea how to groove to the more traditional island tunes.

Multiple mishaps with Jin & Yin setting up the eating areas and dance floor. A few benches break cus the twins either got pinched by a crab or their feet stuck in a sand trap.

Pigsy managed to set a beautiful spread of fresh fruits and vegetables, and has the grills and cookers prepared. He is however, currently at war with the ungodly amount of pests attracted to the spread.

Tang is upfront with Wukong in helping him with his speech and the Monkey King is super grateful. Accidentally turns into an improv/therapy session as Wukong rambles to Tang about how he's feeling + the times previous festivals went badly. No actual speech prep ends up taking place.

DBK starts out fine with taking care of the cubs. But he's a complete pushover, especially towards his godcalves; the twins aptly nicknamed Rumble & Savage. The twins quickly have Uncle Bull allowing them to run off and fight eachother with weapons, and take food from Pigsy's table before the party even starts. PIF steps in to corral the misbehavior, but is distracted by little Luzhen running off and making hair clones of himself. Yuebei spends most of the initial drama asleep.

MK is supervising everything and is getting a little control-freaky. Calls up his clones to supervise different sectors of the party (Delivery for Food, Artist for Decor, Porty for music) and keeps running to and from characters to keep an eye on them.

All the guests arrive and things are going ok until- WHOOPS! The rain cloud PIF blew away came back with a vengance and turns into a tropical storm! PIF can't help rn either - Luzhen stole her fan and she's trying to catch him before he knocks over half the island.

The whole party has to be moved inside, much to the dismay of those who prepared it. Red's efforts in making the bonfires were for naught. Pigsy's beloved food spread has to be dismantled and moved inside. Mei's dj equipment nearly gets soaked. Jin & Yin nearly get lost in quicksand. MK's cloned went a bit haywire and have to be wrangled up.

Just as things look like they couldn't get any worse... the rain wakes up Yuebei. As she registers that she's wet and see can't see her Mama or Baba; an ungodly scream and two massive eye lazers shoot from her. DBK takes HP damage. All the babies/cubs attending the festival have to be rushed inside cus there's so much crying.

Wukong exits his office in the Stone Palace to see Water Curtain Cave packed to the gills with his subjects and freezes. He did not expect them all to be here now! Stage fright activated. Tang thankfully manages to encourage Wukong to take his place. The Stalwarts cheer for their little brother as he stammers through his few lines of well wishes and recap of the year. The room gets really quiet when he mentions the missing Warrior... The subjects take a moment to pray, not only for those lost all thoee centuries ago, but also those who could not be there that day.

The subjects then applaud not only their Kibg for his guidence, but MK and his friends for their effort! They all did wonderfully! To bring the decendants of the Pilgrims, and dear Brother Bull and Sister Iron Fan to them was an amazing feat! The praise is unprompted and MK, the Noodle gang, Jin & Yin, and the Bull family can't help but smile.

Rumble and Savage cut Uncle Bull and Auntie Iron Fab a break, and show that they used their portals to finally catch little Luzhen (fan included). The bull couple are immensely grateful and tired.

As the party officialy begins, within the walls of the caves rather tan the open beaches, Wukong brings his son aside to talk. Tipped off by four certain Stalwarts about the Prince and his friends' troubles organising everything;

Wukong: "Wait, you got all your friends, including my older siblings involved just to make sure I wasn't worried about the Festival?" MK, sheepish: "Yeah..." (*Wukong pulls MK in to a tight hug*) Wukong: "Thanks kiddo. But it's not the Festival itself I was worried about. I was just..." MK: "You really miss dad." Wukong, sadly: "I do. I really, really do. I haven't spent a holiday without him since before you were born. It's just with the Memorial Festival, I just kept thinking back to him. How he'd help me proofread my speech. How he'd direct plays for the subjects. How he'd keep your or your siblings in line so you wouldn't cause Havoc..." (*turns head away and sniffs*) Wukong, crying lightly: "You're so much like me and your dad, bud. I bet he would have loved to see your first planned Festival." MK: "Thanks mama." (*hugs back more*) Wukong, wiping his tears: "OK! Enough weeping! There's a whole festival to celebrate out there! Plus, we have to make sure the cubs haven't broken your Aunt and Uncle." MK: "I doubt it." (*Meanwhile with the Bull couple and the cubs*) DBK & PIF: (*covered in laser burns and bits of fruit as the four younger cubs + MK's clones sleep in a baby pile*) PIF, whispering: "And I thought our little firelily was a handful." DBK, happy but exhausted: "They are certainly Brother Wukong's children." PIF: "The playfulness, yes. But using shadow portals to toss fruit at each other from multiple dimensions? Using hair clones to steal my fan? That's Macaque."

Realms away; Macaque allows tears to fall to as his ears pick up what joyfull celebration he's missing. But he needs to ensure there's a way LBD doesn't make this Memorial Festival their last...

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 2

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Shooting mentioned, not written. American healthcare system. Insecure reader. Bullying with an emphasis on fat shaming. Please let me know if I miss any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

It's only been a few days but you find yourself unable to follow the advice of the medical staff and get some rest. Your brain won't let you. You've got budgets to consider, a resume to update, and follow up appointments to schedule. Thankfully when Jake and Jefferson had brought the girls for a visit they made sure to bring your laptop.

Because you hated not knowing, you opted to spend your time researching to see about how much you might be getting from that back-pay promised by Curtis. Jefferson had assured you that Curtis did, in fact, have that kind of pull but "please don't dig too much into it." You got the impression not everything was on the up-and-up but you have bills to pay so you agreed.

On day four you got a notice of deposit from your bank. You took a look and your jaw dropped. That couldn't be right! You'd done the research. There's no way even an experienced, highly qualified tutor would ever be earning that much! There must've been a mistake! You immediately make a note to tell someone who knows Curtis.

Curtis and Mace were going through their weekly itineraries. Between the two of them nothing got lost. Mace would, occasionally, grumble about needing a vacation but the two of them were the only people who keep all the moving pieces in mind.

"At least we can check a few things off the list this week," Curtis grunted. "Hal's got the bugs planted in the Smith law building. Jake's confirmed they're working."

"Fowler confirmed McMann won't be a problem," Mace reported. "Apparently the guy's busy trying to hunt down the guy that ran away with his wife."

Curtis chuckled at that. "That was Nat, right?"

Mace smiled, "yeah. Nat called "dibs" and we didn't have a counterargument."

"McMann's gonna spend a long time searching," Curtis shakes his head. "Nat's the best at not being found when she doesn't want to be."

"And the Missus is definitely better off," Mace agreed. "Nat's setting her up for life."

"That reminds me," Curtis interjected. "How's the back-pay for Hero doing?"

Mace double checked a few things on his phone before replying, "it's been deposited into her account."

"Good. One more thing we can cross off the list."

"Not yet, actually," Mace hesitated. Curtis gave him a curious look. "Turns out, she's trying to get ahold of you to talk about the amount. Beck says she's adamant that it's too much."

"Huh," Curtis's eyebrows raised. "There's something you don't hear every day. I'll talk to Barber and got some legal-ese that'll explain without explaining."

Mace nods and the two continue their meeting, switching to ongoing tasks.

"Excuse me?" It's been a few days since the money hit your account and you've finally gotten a visit from Curtis.

They kept you at the hospital longer because your stress levels made it "irresponsible" for Dr. Beck to discharge you, lest you have a heart attack as soon as you get outside. At this point you're certain Dr. Beck wants to get as much money from your stay as he can. Everyone who visits, however, says otherwise.

"Hazard pay," Curtis patiently repeated. "That's why there's so much more money than you expected."

"You can't expect me to believe that!" You are indignant. "That's not how hazard pay works. I've done my research Mr. um, Mr." you pause because you realize you don't know his last name. You feel the pang of embarrassment because you've been saying you've done your research but you don't know something as simple as a last name! You push past it and continue, "I've done my research, sir!"

You open up your laptop and bring up all of your documents of notes, focusing in on the bibliography. "I've got data from reputed tutoring websites, the Department of Labor, Glassdoor, even the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and none of them support the amount I was given."

Curtis finds himself smiling. He's been talked back to plenty of times, but never like this. "You're cute," he blurts out.

Thinking he's making fun of you, you look away from him and try not to show too much hurt. Curtis assures, "I'm not saying that to belittle you. You really have put a lot of work into this."

You shake your head, "it's besides the point, sir. You've grossly overpaid me. I know you've overpaid me. Yet you are refusing to acknowledge this."

"That's partly because I'm not sure why it's such a big deal to you," he calmly states.

"Because I don't want to cheat you!"

"Are you saying there's a price limit for saving my nieces?"

"I mean, technically there is. Could probably use some actuarial tables used in life insurance policies to find it out." Curtis gives you a hard glare but you persist, "I'm not saying that your nieces aren't priceless. I'm saying that I don't want to take what isn't mine. This is a lot of money and I don't want you going hungry or something because you feel you owe me when you don't. I only did what any decent person would do!"

"It's been my experience that decent people are rarities," Curtis stated. "As such they, and by extension you, should be treated well and given plenty."

"That's another part of the problem," you sighed. "I have not been told anything specific but I've seen and heard enough to suspect that this money might not be... legitimate."

Curtis's jaw tensed up. He'd have to have a word with the J's about being more careful. "I assure you," he nearly growled, "that the money you received was honestly earned by us and then you. All tax forms have been taken care of. All employment paperwork is settled."

You meet his gaze, undeterred by the intensity in his eyes. You see no signs of trickery. Nothing in those icy blue eyes indicating he was hiding the truth from you. You nod your acceptance and he relaxes a bit.

"Now," he says in a much lighter tone, "was there anything else?"

"Um, just one," you replied. "You said that I'm officially employed? That you might have more work for me? Who am I employed by and what other work should I be ready for?"

"The official name of my company is Everett Enterprises," he explained. "That's the company title on your W-2. As for the "other work" that was implied, it's simply a notice that I may have other employees in need of a tutor. I know Hal has been looking at getting his GED."

"So all you would need from me is more tutoring?"

Curtis can hear the tremor in your voice. You're a good person who doesn't want to get mixed up in anything illegal and he's happy to accommodate that. "Yes," he asserts. "Though that may involve helping some of my people learn how to cite their sources like you did."

That gets a half smile from you and Curtis considers the conversation done. "Now please follow the doctor's orders and rest up," he pleads. As he turns to leave he says, "make sure to get your beauty sleep."

Because he's facing away he doesn't see your face fall at the comment.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[mariposa-writes]

Good Sleep - LaMelo Ball

Summary: hate writing these, so just read and find out.

A/N: This man is the love of my life (and his brothers).

It was hard, dating an NBA player. Not that it was Melo's fault. He tried to make things as easy as possible. He called whenever he could, making sure to at least check in on me once a day.

It wasn't like I made things any easier. I took a lot of pride in my job and it felt like a lot of the time when he was home, I was busy working.

Which is what I am currently doing. Its around midnight, when I hear the garage open, I know it's Melo. His team was supposed to get back earlier tonight, but their flight got delayed due to weather.

After a few minutes he enters our room. I moved in with him a 6 months ago, since I practically lived there full time anyways. We both also thought it would be a good way to spend more time together.

"Hey, babe." He says walking over to me and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He heads into our bathroom, getting ready to shower. He hates how he feels after plane rides, always complaining about being dirty. "What are you working on?" He calls from the bathroom.

"Just work stuff." I respond, not having the time to explain. I have to have these reports ready by Monday. I'm a CFO for a major clothing company in the US. We are currently working on expanding to European countries.

Melo showers while I work and before I know it he's climbing into bed. "Babe," He whines, "when are you going to bed?"

"I don't know, soon." I answer, dismissively. He frowns, looking up at me from where he's laying.

"You work to hard. Your not even 22 and your the CFO for a major company. I worry you're gonna work yourself to death." Melo's always hated how hard I work. We've been dating since we were both 19.

I was getting ready to graduate college, when he was getting drafted into the NBA. Being born a genius helped me fast track my schooling and career.

I started interning with the company I currently work at when I was 17, the summer after my junior year. I started working with them when they were just a start up, but in the past four years they have rapidly grown and I've been a part of the process the whole way.

This company is like my baby and I'm the one that has to track everything to make sure we are achieving our goals. I never intended on working here this long, but I love the people I work with (the pay isn't bad either).

They promoted me to CFO when their old one left to work for a bigger company. What an idiot, they didn't have believe in the company and soon ours will be bigger than the one they are working for.

Three hours later and I'm still working, Melo's passed out. After he fell asleep I headed to the office he set up for me, not wanting to wake him.

I have a blanket wrapped around me, with my headphones in and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the desk. Once I get this done, I'll be on Monday and present to our investors I will be on vacation for the next 9 days.

I haven't told Melo yet, wanting to surprise him since our schedules rarely line up.

I look up from my computer, when I see the hallway light turn on. I take my headphones out, knowing it's Melo. He walks into my office, frowning. "Babe, go to bed." He groans.

"Ok, just give me a few minutes."

"Nope, you always say that and then a few minutes turn into another hour or two and then you're only getting like 2 hours of sleep before you head into the office." He walks over and shuts my laptop, before pulling me out of the chair.

I whine and protest the whole way back to our bed, but he doesn't seem to care. He makes me lay down and tucks me in like I'm a little kid, before climbing in bed next to me.

Once he's in bed his, arm wraps around my waist as he pulls me closer resting his head on my stomach. "Finally, I can sleep now."

"You've been asleep this whole time." I argue.

"Yea, but now I'll get good sleep. I only get good sleep when you're with me." I smile, even though he can't see me. I continue playing with his hair, before we both drift of to sleep in each other's arms.

[sangyeonsmuse]

FLOOR 22 | DAY 8

PAIRING Lyricist & Lead Singer Kevin x Fan Reader

WORD COUNT | 2k

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ vaginal, body worship, mature language,etc

SUMMARY He spotted you in the crowd the night of his show and as if fate was on his side he found that you had been staying in the exact same hotel that he had been staying in.

MORE | Day 8 of the Groupie Love Series

Kevin was completely mesmerized as his eyes found you in the crowd. You seemed so bold and carefree the way your body moved at its own will, the only one that stood out to him amongst the crowd. Amongst the many women throwing panties and bras or trying their hardest to get the attention of him and the rest of the band you seemed to be in your own little world. You seemed to be doing something that was most important to him when it came to these shows, enjoying the music. Whether it was dancing in your own or rocking your hips to the sound of the music against some lonesome stranger you were just completely captivating, that was exactly why he why he would end the show regretting not having pulled you up on that stage.

When the show was over and he was alone in his car driving back to his hotel he mentally cursed himself for not having figured out who you were. He was left with just the memory alone of how you looked, no way of putting a name to the face, no way of contacting you, or at least that’s what he thought. As he arrives at the hotel he steps out of his car with an annoyed groan, throwing his keys over to the valet he disregards the thought of you all together, as his hope of finding you was somewhat lost.

“What the hell do you mean you gave away my room? Check In doesn’t even end until 11 o'clock.”

“Ma’am it’s on a first come first served basis if you had checked in on time then this mix up could have been avoided.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look, I'm trying my best to stay calm and not be disrespectful, but either you pay me back in full or find me another room.”

Kevin was planning on simply passing by without regard for what had been happening in the lobby, after all it wasn’t just business. His plans were completely spoiled as he entered the lobby and saw your familiar frame standing at the check in.

“Ah Mr. Moon I'm sorry, did you need something?” Seeming to have completely disregarded you as if you weren’t there the receptionist redirects her attention to Kevin.

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” It was obvious now that you were completely pissed, so pissed that you hadn’t even seemed to notice who had been standing right there behind you.

“Actually, find her a room and put it on my card.”

“But sir, the only room we have left is our vacation suite and it currently has not yet been cleaned by housekeeping.”

“Whatever it is, have it ready for her by tonight, in the meantime have her bags brought to my floor, she can stay in the penthouse until her room is ready. If that’s alright with her of course.”

“I'd love to actually thank you.” Kevin couldn’t hide his adoration or amusement towards you when you turned towards the receptionist with a smug grin and spoke a sarcastic thank you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that, you’re honestly a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be.”

“You know me?” Of course you knew him, and he obviously knew that having seen you at his show tonight but he couldn't let you know that.

“Mm somewhat, i could tell you more about your songs than i could about the band, not that you guys aren’t interesting, i've just found that sometimes the artists behind the music aren’t who they make themselves out to be sometimes.”

“And what do I make myself out to be?” He was quite curious to say the least, but most of all he was dying to know your perception of him.

“Mm it's too early in the conversation now but having seen videos of you offstage sometimes you seem like someone that just wants to enjoy his life, you don’t care much for public opinion, you’re the most carefree amongst the others.”

“Guess I'll have to take this time to prove your perception of me right.” His playful demeanor earned a laugh from you which immediately made him smile in response. You seemed to be in complete awe the moment the elevator doors opened onto his private floor, he had a penthouse all to himself.

“Make yourself comfortable, I'm sure your clothes will be up soon so if you want to take a shower you can use the first room to the left upstairs, if you need anything just give me a call i'll be in the kitchen.”

As Kevin instructed you make your way up the stairs and into the first door on the left. The entire penthouse just completely amazed you from the decor to the view of the city. You absolutely couldn’t believe that someone like Kevin Moon would invite you into his suite, but you were grateful. Seconds later as you had been taking in the view there was a knock on the door interrupting your viewing. As you opened it you were met with your bags placed outside the door, and you figured Kevin just sat there wanting to respect your privacy. Finally you could get out of those clothes and take a much needed shower.

While you had been upstairs showering Kevin had been downstairs in the kitchen, his mind seemingly wandering as he prepared dinner for both himself and now his new guest. A guest that Kevin couldn’t help but wonder what she would look like pressed against his wall. He was pulled from his thoughts as you entered the kitchen, in a crop top and a pair of shorts.

“It smells good in here, who would have known you could cook too.”

“There's a lot the media doesn’t care to know.” Kevin forced himself to look away from you, in order to not completely embarrass himself and ruin dinner in front of you. He couldn’t help but tense up in front of you throughout his cooking, you seemed to watch his every move, even when he shoves both dishes into the oven and sets the timer he could feel the way your eyes were glued to him.

“Maybe I should start a cooking show since you seem quite interested in watching me cook.”

“I'm sorry I stared too hard. Were you weirded out? I was just trying to pay attention to the steps since I never had what you’re making, I figured I’d just watch.”

“You're cute, Kevin chuckles and opens up the oven, he drops his spoon into the pan and takes out just enough for you to taste.”

“Since it's already nearly done I’ll have you be my little critic.” He brings the spoon to your mouth, his eyes stick on your lips as they wrap around the spoon. You seemed to have enjoyed it as a satisfied moan spills from your lips, making Kevin tense up.

“Kevin, this is so good, what the hell.” While you had been throwing Kevin praises, he seemed to have checked out. His eyes still on your lips, his mind playing the sound you made after tasting the food over and over.

“Kevin..”

“You have something here.” His thumb brushes across your lips making you immediately stiffen at his touch having been caught off guard. As if letting his intrusive thoughts win Kevins thumb brushes over your lips once again before he stuffs his thumb past your lips.

“You looked so beautiful at the show tonight I just couldn’t resist getting you alone. I'm sorry pretty, but I did lie to you…you think you can get past that? You think you could forget that I offered you to be here for my own selfish agenda?” His free hand rests on your waist. As he felt your tongue swipe across his thumb he knew that was his given answer.

“You looked so beautiful tonight, let me show you how someone should treat someone so beautiful.”

He lays you back against the counter, as he leaves adoring kisses from your waist to your chest his hands roamed every part of your body as if reading to memorize every frame. The way he touched and kissed your body like he was worshiping it sent chills up your spine. As he pushes your legs back to your chest a soft moan spills past your lips as you could feel how hard he was pressing up against your shorts through his pants. His hand rests on your ass and you immediately press into him making his breath get caught in his throat.

“If you keep on tempting me ill have to fuck You right here.” The moment he spoke you felt yourself clench and of course he felt it too. He now has both hands on your waist using his hold to press your ass again him, grinning as he hears a moan spill from your lips.

“Don’t play with me, Please Kevin.”

“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg.” He chuckles and you direct a slap to his chest making him laugh more. Finally as if not being able to wait himself he pulls off both your panties and shorts in one go before throwing them off to the side. Looking down at you like this he was completely mesmerized. You watch him as he leans back to push down his pants all while taking in the sight of you.

“Even more beautiful like this.” Without warning he pushes his thumb against your clit and applies pressure against it.

"I guess I'll have to admire how pretty it is later, I need you so bad right now, gorgeous." you moan at the pressure against your feeling his finger presses up against your clit in a way of not letting up. Finally moving his thumb he aligns his cock with your entrance before shoving inside.

“Oh fuck wait.” Kevin's nails dig into your thighs as you stop him from moving any further. Your back arching against the counter top as you tried to adjust to his size for a moment.

“Shit move.” He didn't need to be told twice, he starts off at this slow pace and moans lightly feeling how you clenched around him every time. Kevin didn't miss the way your nails clawed at the kitchen counter and then that was when you moaned his name, the moment he heard his name from your lips he knew he needed to hear more. They only fuel him to go faster and harder.

When he bottomed out you both groaned, and then he set a brutal pace. He was reaching so deeply that you were now certain you could feel it in your stomach. He bullied your cervix with the tip; slamming into you over and over as you cried out at the feeling.

“Kev, it’s too much-“ you whimpered, making him reach down to caress your cheek.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, beautiful you’re doing so well” he grunts in response to your soft whines, picking up his speed and rubbing his thumb over your clit.

In that moment you exploded with a loud moan. He picked up his speed, gripping your waist and yanking you into his thrusts. One of your hands reached up to pull him closer and he easily obliged. Leaning in closer he let your fingers tangle in his hair as he left kisses along your collarbone. By now you were practically crying from the overstimulating feeling but he still didn’t let up. His thrusts were getting sloppier and less rhythmic. Now his hips were stuttering and before you had a moment to realize what was happening he was sucking on your shoulder, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you melted to the pleasure, pure mind-dissolving ecstasy. You came hard, little dots of light scattering around your vision as your orgasm ripped through you. Kevin wraps his hands around the curve of your hips as he releases every drop deep inside of you.

“Ah fuck, we got this far and i didn’t even ask you your name.” Kevin, still breathless from moments ago, facepalms as he realized he had completely ruined you and never asked for your name. At his reaction you simply laugh and reach up to play with his hair.

“Yn, its Yn”

[iblameashley]

Shattered

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,847 words Content: Minor warning for mention of panic attack. Mention of PTSD, Anger, Angst.

Follow up to I'm punny and you know it.

Simon ’Ghost’ Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You walk into a war zone of Simon's making. Well, you actually kicked in a door to do it, but that's not the point. The man is not OK, and while you may not be able to help him, you can clean up the mess.

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

It hadn't taken you very long to figure out 'Si' was in the military. Truth be told, you suspected it from the first time you met at the coffee shop. It was during your last appointment with him that it was confirmed. He was wearing a very tight tee and you could make out the outline of dog-tags as the cotton shirt hugged their form. Being respectful of his privacy, however, you said nothing.

You had six appointments under your belt with him over the course of four months. It was during this appointment that he told you he had a 'trip' coming up, and wasn't sure how long it was going to take. You nodded and said you understood. Simon also took the time to explain that the location was 'remote' and he likely wouldn't have much cell reception. “Well...” You pondered, “When you do have service, and if you're free, let me know and I'll send you a joke or a meme.” You offered.

His eyes seemed to soften at the offer, and you could swear there was a smile under his mask. He nodded firmly in agreement, and with that, you had a new contract with him while he was away.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The first two week were silent, and you went about both your day jobs and your side-gig as a friend-for-hire. You toiled away at paperwork and emails until your eyes burned red from dryness. Late nights turned into early mornings and you periodically checked your phone for a hint of life from Si.

It was nearly half way through week three when your phone dinged at an ungodly hour. You rolled over in bed and were blinded by the light from the screen. “Fuck.” You groan, shutting your eyes quickly. It was from Si.

SI: Have about three hours before I have to go back to work. I was promised jokes and memes.

“Fucking Christ, Si.” You huffed. “Gotta pull a joke out of my ass at..” You glanced at the clock in the upper corner of this cornea-destroying device. “four-forty-seven.”

You head flopped back on the pillow with a 'whump' and you clutched the phone at your chest. You had promised to do this for him, and he was on his 'trip'. It wasn't his fault you forgot time zones existed. So you pursed your lips and thought of a joke through the fogginess of your sleepy mind.

You: Why were the middle ages called the Dark Ages? You: Because there were too many Knights. SI: That's fucking terrible. You: You're welcome.

And that was the start of your on-again, off-again communication with Si as he was on his 'trip.'

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

Six weeks in, you got another message from him. This time is was at least at a reasonable hour. The sun had cast the sky bright reds and pinks as it set, and you had been sitting on the balcony of your flat enjoying the cool breeze and downtime. Your workload had shifted and you had more free time. On top of that, one of your Friental clients was on vacation, so you felt like you could really relax.

The dinging and buzzing from your phone caught your attention. It was Si, again.

Si: Hit me. You: Coffee has a really rough time in my house... You: It gets mugged every day. Si: Hah.

Then another message the day after.

Si: Gotta make it quick, you around?

You were. You always were.

You: What did the socks say to the pants? You: Sup, britches. Si: Where the fuck do you get these?

A part of you pictured him laughing boisterously at your bad jokes, but deep down you knew that wasn't the case. He might huff out a low 'hah,' but Si, as far as you knew, was not a loud laughter. It would betray his broody lone-wolf persona. Still, you had a fond memory of the first time you did get a response from him. The light shove of his boot against your back.

And now that you thought about it, he broke the rules. No touching. You wondered if he had realized as well. You shook your head. No matter, the rules were really there for you.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

It was just over two months in when you got a notification from the app that 'Si' had requested another appointment. He had access to your calendar, so you opened it up and clicked accept. He had requested a visit from you in four days.

“Must be back home,” You said to yourself. There was a stupid smile plastered over your face. Si might be a big, quiet, moping tank of a man, but he was easy to handle. You knew what was expected with him, and he was fine with letting you babble at length about any and everything that crossed your mind. He never seemed annoyed or frustrated about your endless chatter. He would simply sit there and look at you with those unassuming brown eyes. He'd nod and grunt and give one word answers every once in a while, to remind you he really was listening. If anything, he took the pressure off you, allowing you to be yourself.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

You were not prepared for what you would find when you arrived at his flat. You stood at the door and knocked. No answer. You looked around the dimly lit hallway of the building and hummed to yourself anxiously.

'Maybe he forgot?' You mused. You foot tapped impatiently on the floor, and you kept shifting your weight from hip to hip. 'No. He wouldn't forget.' You reminded yourself. He was too structured for that. So you knocked again, harder. Still no answer. You knocked so hard the third time you sent spikes of pain up your knuckles.

“Si!” you yelled. “Are you home?” Your voice was raspy and filled with concern.

There was no response, but you did hear movement. Now your heart jumped to your throat. Was he hurt? Could he not respond for some reason? You mind flooded with the worst-case scenarios and you began to panic. Who do you call? Police? Maybe a neighbour would have a number for maintenance or the landlord. Your head shot back and forth, up one end of the hallway and down the other. You stared at the door, and finally your body reacted.

You hand reached for the doorknob and gave it a twist. To your surprise, it wasn't locked, which was unusual in itself. You couldn't imagine Si as comfortable enough to leave the door unlatched. But as you pushed it open, it caught on the chain of the upper lock and the door can to an abrupt halt. “Si?” you called in.

There was a grumbling, but no real response. “Fuck it.” You blurted out. You took a step back, sucked in a deep breath and aimed at the door. In one sharp movement, your foot connected with the door and snapped the chain from the frame. The swung open and crashed into the wall with a loud thud. You entered the flat timidly, and closed the door behind you.

Sitting at the kitchen table was Si, head in his hands and starting at the table, hunched over in a heap. You forgot how big this man was, even in this state. He was mask-less. You walked in and averted your gaze, you searched the flat frantically for his mask. It was then that you took in the disastrous state of the flat. There was garbage lying all over the place, dirty and broken dishes and even some furniture overturned and stung along the floor. Si had been home for a bit longer than you had assume, and it was not a good homecoming.

You located his mask frantically flung over the couch and you snatched it up quickly. You walked over to Si and shoved the mask under his face. “Put it on.” You remarked. “Please?” Your eyes were locked on the ceiling. He even managed to stain that.

You felt him pull the mask from your hand by the strap and you waited a few seconds before you dared to peek. He was masked, now.

Simon's face – well, his brows and eyes – were red and puffy, but he hadn't appeared to have been crying. His hair was a complete mess and his bloodshot eyes glared at you with emptiness, like he hadn't actually accepted you were here. “Better?” He asked in the most deadpanned tone you'd had heard from him.

“You look like shit, Si.” You declared before rubbing at the bridge of your nose. “Are you OK?” you muttered, knowing you were about to get the most useless of responses.

“No. Clearly, not.” he commented.

You took another look around the flat and noted all the work that had to be done. You gave an apathetic shrug and tip-toed over to the hallway closet to retrieve cleaning supplies. Carefully manoeuvring around the broken glass and ceramic that littered the floor like a mine-field. Something had set him off, an anxiety or panic attack maybe? PTSD? Didn't really matter to you, he couldn't stay like this. And since he wasn't going to offer up his feeling – his heart – for you one a plate, not that he had any left, you figured you could at least clean his home.

You started with the floors; sweeping up the fragments and remains of glassware and plates . You swept around his feet and took a bit of comfort that he was still wearing his boots. Under the table, around the fridge, and you double checked the base boards around the counter until you had a pile of his shattered property in a mound in his kitchen. Carefully you swept it into the dust-pan and placed it in a refuse bag before tossing it in one of his bins.

“What are you doing?” Simon finally remarked.

“Seems like you had a rough trip.” You declared. “I'm guessing you don't want to talk about, and that's fine. Its in our rules, after all.” You turned and beamed him a warm smile.

“You really care about my stupid rules at a time like this?” His voice was low and laced with annoyance and confusion.

“Its... kind of the foundation of our relationship, no?” You laughed. You balanced your chin on your hands, which were tenderly placed on the tip of the broom, and you wobbled it back and forth. “Something happened, and I'm not going to ask. But!” You explained. “I am going to get this place back in order because you don't live like this, and I'm not going to let you start. Isn't that what friends are for?” You shot him a wink.

“I pay you to be my friend.” The words carried an air of embarrassment and shame. Your heart ached at the sound.

You let out a frustrated breath and put the broom to the side. You turned your attention to the remaining dishes in the sink. The water rushed into the basin, splashing and bubbling as it embraced the dirty plated and utensils.

You reached into the got water and began scrubbing. The water sloshing and burbling under the movement of your hands. “I'd do it for free.” You finally admitted. You couldn't turn to look at him at first. The stack of wet, but clean dishes began to pile up in the other basin, and you could hear your heart in your ears. Feel your pulse beating, drumming, in every vein and artery.

“What?” He finally asked.

“I'd be your friend for free.” You nodded sharply at the wall in front of you. You bit at your lower lip, afraid you were breaking the rules of your contract. 'Was this too much? Too far?' you asked yourself as the silent moment moved forward.

“...why?” Simon finally choked out.

Your hands fell back into the sink, and your grip on the cutlery loosened. Your head dropped as you thought about your answer, knowing you were treading on thin ice. At least, you thought you were.

You cocked your head to the side to look at him. He was sitting at the table still, staring into the empty space between you two. His jaw worked tightly under his jaw as he ground at his teeth. You wondered if you had pissed him off, truly pissed him off.

“I... like you?” You whispered.

He snorted and shook his head. “That's the best fuckin' joke you've told yet, mate.”

You didn't really know how to respond to him. He was finally painting a picture of his self worth for you to view, and did it in so few words. Your heart sank deep into your belly as it dawn on you just how isolated his really must have been. Must be. “I mean it, Si. I'd be happy to just be your friend.”

His head dropped back down to the table. You finished the last of the forks and plopped them into the clean basin, dried your hands and pulled out your phone.

You opened up your messages and began typing.

You: What kind of music do windmills like? You: They're Metal fans.

His phone buzzed across the table and a moment later there was a gruff, hoarse chuckle. “Go fuck yourself.” He mumbled.

You: Why do Ghosts love elevators? You: Because they lift their spirits.

“Fuckin' hell.” He shook his head back and forth on the table. “I'm trying to be miserable here, can you fuck off?” You smiled at the disingenuous tone of his remark.

“Can't do it.” You shook your head and took a seat at the table.

“I won't push you to tell me whats going on, but...” You looked around at all the work still left to be done. “Can you give me something? Something to explain this?” You said waving your hands around the flat.

Simon just stared at you blankly.

“Mission go wrong?” You asked. Your words pushing at a boundary you weren't sure you had the right to touch.

His eyes widened as he took in the words that wormed their way to his brain.

“Mission? I was on a-”

You held up a hand and cut him off. Your heart was hurting at seeing this man in such a state. You didn't pity him by any means, but you wanted to reach out and let him know he could unload his burdens on you, even just a little.

“Dont.” You said curtly. “I've seen your tags.” Your fingers tapped at the table.

Simon rubbed at his eyes and let out a growl. He was most definitely annoyed with your line of questioning, but he also lacked the energy to put up a fight. He had spent the last several days having a tantrum, raging and destroying the remnants of his non-military life and wishing to sink the last of his soul into his persona. A persona he hadn't told you about.

But here you sat, staring at him with caring, concerned eyes and he couldn't understand why. He had never given you anything from this arrangement, it was entirely selfish on his part. But here you sat, your lips pursed and your fingers anxiously tapping the table.

“I failed.” He choked out. The words biting at his throat as his admission jumped from his lips. “I failed, and I got reprimanded.”

You nodded your head delicately. “Did you lose someone?” You asked.

Simon shook his head, but said nothing.

“Then it wasn't a complete failure, was it?” A smiled pulled at the corner of your lips.

Simon' hands fell to the table and he looked at you with shock. His masked puffed in and out as he breathed heavily into it.

“That's not the point.” He grunted.

You shrugged hard and stared at him. “Well... it is to me.” You fired back, a little more confrontational than you had intended. “You didn't lose anyone, and you came back home. Maybe its not a mission success, but its not a failure.”

Simon felt a crack in his armour at your comment. Like you had aimed perfectly at his heart and fired. It didn't shatter, he was too strong for that, but the impact of your words did damage. Damage he couldn't have prepared himself for. Someone cared that he came back. No one cared if he came back. He furrowed his brow, angry that your shot at him landed, but he couldn't bring himself to be truly mad at you. A piece of him lit up inside.

“Will you stay for dinner?” He finally asked.

You looked around at the kitchen and the few remaining dishes.

“We can order take away,” you chuckled. “My treat.”

Simon looked at you.

“My treat.” You reaffirmed.

Simon just nodded.