#but the line got brought up somewhere today and now here we are

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Screaming 'I Love You' At the Top of My Lungs - Luke Hughes

Summary: Olivia (Oli) Jones grows up with Luke Hughes.

content: angst, fluff, kissing, make out session, mentions of sex but no smut, relationships, growing up, puberty, underage drinking

wc: 8.2k

notes: this one has been chilling in a word doc for almost a year now, unfinished... so here we are! enjoy!!

p.s.: part 6 of done trying is in the works for all the fans out there ;)

Emily Jones had been thrilled when the lake house next to theirs had been purchased by a family. It finally meant that her daughter, Olivia, would have someone her age to spend time with over the summer. She was even more thrilled when she and her husband became friends with the parents, Ellen and Jim. This newly formed friendship quickly created a tradition of spending every summer together, growing up together, and forming a bond that would last a lifetime.

~~

The sun was high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the lake as Luke and Olivia splashed at the edge of the dock. At ten years old, they were inseperable, spending their days swimming, racing, and inventing games that only made sense to them. Today's grand plan was to catch the biggest fish in the lake- a challenge they'd taken seriously for maybe ten minutes.

Jack and Quinn were further down the dockl, attempting to escape the craziness of their younger brother and his best friend. They had their own fishing lines in the water, but their focus was more on the competition than the younger two.

"Luke, you're scaring all the fish away!" Jack complained, glancing over his shoulder as Luke and Olivia chased each other, laughing loudly.

Quinn nodded in agreement, annoyance clear on his face. "Yeah, why don't you go play somewhere else? We're actually trying to fish here."

Luke, undeterred by his brothers' grumbling, grinned at Olivia. "Ignore them. They're just mad 'cause we're going to catch the biggest fish.

Olivia giggled, "Let's show them how it's done, Lu!"

The two of them raced to the end of the dock, their feet dangling over the water, and cast their lines. Jack and Quinn exchanged an eye roll but couldn't help watching as the younger pair got to work.

Minutes ticked up in silence, and just as Jack thought that his peace had returned, Luke jumped up, almost falling into the water. "I got one!" he exclaimed.

Quinn groaned, watching his brother intently. "Here we go..."

Olivia jumped up, her enthusiasm only adding to the noise. "You got it, Luke! Woooo! Go Lu!"

Luke finally pulled it up-- a small, wriggling fish that flopped wildly at the end of his line. He beamed with pride, holding it up for everyone to see.

"See? Told you we'd catch one first!"

Jack and Quinn exchanged a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Congratulations," Jack said dryly. "Now can you please be quiet?"

Olivia stuck her tongue out at the older boys, unfazed by their lack of enthusiasm. "You're just jealous, Jacky."

"Whatever you say, Oli."

As the two little fishers planned their next big catch, the older boys sighed in unison, dreading the rest of the summer. But deep down, they these moments-- no matter how annoying-- would become part of the memories that formed their childhoods.

~~

The Michigan sun was bright as ever, but the atmosphere around the house had shifted. At thirteen, Luke Hughes and Olivia Jones had begun to outgrow some of their childhood games, but their bond remained as strong as ever. This summer, though, things were a bit different. Jack had brought his friends, Trevor and Cole, to the lake house for the first time, and their presence quickly added a new dynamic to the house.

Luke watched with irritation as Olivia, his partner in crime, seemed unusually interested in the new arrivals. Especially Trevor. She'd giggle at all his jokes, blush when he looked her way, and do everything she could to be near him. It didn't make any sense to Luke.

It was early afternoon, and the group was gathered by the lake, lounging on the end of dock, soaking up the sun. Trevor was showing off, talking about a trick he could do while wakesurfing, while Olivia hung on his every word.

"Why are you so into him?" Luke asked, his voice laced with frustration. He had finally pulled Olivia away from Trevor, getting some time to sit alone with his best friend.

Oli blushed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "He's cool, Luke. Don't you think so?"

Luke frowned, chucking a stone into the water. "He's just a guy. I don't get what's so special about him."

She shrugged, her eyes drifting back to Trevor, who was now laughing with Jack and Cole. "You wouldn't understand."

Trevor caught her gaze and flashed her a smile, which only made Olivia's cheeks redden further. Luke rolled his eyes, feeling a strange, unwelcome pang in his chest. He was used to having Oli's full attention, and now she was distracted-- by some older guy who didn't even notice her in the way she wanted.

Jack, having noticed his little brother's sour mood, followed Luke into the kitchen.

"Hey, Moose, you jealous or something?"

Luke shot him a glare. "Of what? Trevor? No way."

Jack chuckled, ruffling Luke's hair. "Don't worry, Moosey. She'll get over it. Trev isn't interested."

Luke wanted to snap back, but he just crossed his arms over his chest, staring out the window at the lake. He couldn't quite put his feelings into words, but he knew one thing: he didn't like this change, not one bit.

Even as the group gathered around the firepit, Olivia sat closer to Trevor than to Luke. She always sat next to Luke! Luke watched from across the flames, feeling a simmering of annoyance. It wasn't like Olivia to act like this, and it bothered him way more than he wanted to admit.

Why did he feel like this?

~~

Olivia had never been so excited for a trip to the lake house. She was 15 and finally had her driving permit. She was so eager to show off her new found freedom to her best friend. Her parents had given her permission to drive around the small neighbourhood that their lake house was located in. The moment she arrived, she practically dragged Luke to the driveway where her parents' car was parked, keys in hand, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Come on, Lu! Let's go for a drive," she urged, not giving him a chance to protest.

Luke hestitated for a second, glancing at the car. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he teased, though he was already following her.

Olivia rolled her eyes, grinning brightly. "I've been practicing for months. Don't worry-- I've got this."

They climbed into the car, and Olivia adjusted the seat and mirrors with exaggerated care. Luke couldn't help but smirk at her seriousness, but he didn't say anything. As she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, he felt both excitement and nervousness. This was new territory for both of them, and it felt oddly significant.

The road around the lake waws quiet, bordered by tall trees that cast shadows on the asphalt. Olivia kept both hands firmly on the wheel, her brow furrowed in concentration as she navigated the path. Luke found himself sneaking glances at her, noticing how grown up she looked while driving.

"You're really into this driving thing, huh?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

"Are you kidding? It's freedom, Lu! We can go anywhere, do anything... well, not really. But you get the idea," Oli replied, flashing him a grin before turning her eyes back to the street.

Luke nodded, though he wasn't really listening. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was more than just a drive. There was something about the way she looked at him, the way she drove with such confidence-- it all felt... different. And he wasn't sure he liked how it made him feel.

They approached a sharp curve in the road, Olivia bit her lip in concentration, turning the wheel with a bit too much speed. The car swerved, and for a split second, Luke's heart leaped into his throat. His hand shot out, gripping the edge of his seat as he tried to steady himself.

"Olivia-!"

"I've got it!" she said quickly, her voice a little higher than normal. She corrected the wheel, and the car straightened out, but they were both still a little shaken.

"Maybe I should slow down a bit," Olivia admitted, still laughing.''

"Maybe," Luke agreed, his heart thundering against his chest.

When they finally returned to the lake house, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the water. Olivia parked the car, turning to Luke with a satisfied grin. "Told you I could do it."

"Yeah, you did good," Luke said.

Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Luke found himself replaying the day over and over in his mind. Olivia's laughter, her excitement-- it was all stuck in his head, and for the first time, he couldn't just brush it off.

What was happening to him? Why did he feel this way?

The summer felt different now, and Luke wasn't sure he was ready for it.

~~

The following day, Luke and Olivia found themselves alone at the lake houses, the others having gone into town to grocery shop. It wasn't unusual for them to spend time together, just the two of them (obviously), but today it felt different-- charged with an unspoken tension neither could quite name.

"Want to go down to the dock?" Oli suggested, trying to keep things normal, though she could feel the shift in the air.

"Sure," Luke agreed, grabbing a couple of towels and a cooler of drinks as they headed outside.

They settled onto the dock, dangling their feet in the water. The familiar sounds of the lake-- water lapping at the shore, birds calling from the tall trees-- usually felt comforting, but today, Luke couldn't shake the nervous energy buzzing inside him.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping on cold sodas and watching the water hit against the dock. But it wasn't long before Olivia broke it.

"Luke," she began hesitantly, her voice softer than normal, "d'you ever think about... growing up? Like, how things are changing?"

Luke turned to her, surprised by her question. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. "It's just... we're not kids anymore. Y'know? It feels like everything is different, even though we're still here, doing the same things."

He swallowed, suddenly aware of the way her shoulder brushed against his, how close they were sitting. "Yeah, I guess I've been thinking about that too," he admitted.

Olivia turned to face him, her eyes searching his. "D'you think... we'll always be like this? Best friends, I mean. Or do you think we'll grow apart?"

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. The idea of losing what they had-- whatever it was-- was somethinghe couldn't bear. "We won't grow apart," he said firmly, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. "We'll always be best friends, no matter what."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Luke replied, though he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or her.

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, and Olivia leaned her head on Luke's shoulder, a gesture that had once felt so natural now made his heart race.

"You're my best friend, Lu," she murmured.

Luke hestitated, then put his arm around her, pulling her closer. "You're mine too, Oli," he said, though the words felt like they were only scratching the surface of what he wanted to say.

As the sun set and the sky turned from pink to a deep blue, Luke couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. He had always thought their friendship would last forever, unchanged, but now he wasn't so sure.

But as they sat there, wrapped together, he couldn't imagine being anyone else.

~~

At 18, Luke and Olivia had slipped back into the easy rhythm of their friendship, though there were moments when things felt different-- charged in a way they hadn't been before. But for the most part, they had grown out of the awkward phase that had defined their relationship two years ago.

This summer, however, one major thing had changed. Olivia and Trevor's feelings for each other, once unrequited, were now undeniably mutual. And it drove Luke insane.

He hated the way that Trevor looked at her-- like she was the only person in the room. And worse, he hated the way Olivia looked back at Trevor, as if she were lost in his gaze. It was if they were silently communicating, undressing each other with their eyes, and it made Luke's stomach churn every time he saw it.

One evening, after a long day on the water, the group gathered in the house for a lowkey night. The parents had gone out for dinner, leaving the boys to their own devices. And Olivia was spending the night watching a movie with her parents. The boys sprawled out in the living room, beers in hand, the sound of crickets filling the quiet spaces between their conversations.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know," he began, his voice taking on a tone that immediately put Luke on edge, "Oli's really something else this summer."

Luke's grip on his beer tightened as he shot Trevor a glance. "What do you mean by that?"

Trevor shrugged, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I mean, she's grown up a lot, hasn't she? Not just in looks, but the way she carries herself. Confident. Sexy."

Luke felt anger rise in his chest. He forced himself to stay calm, but his jaw clenched as he watched Trevor. "She's always been confident," Luke said, his voice steady but edged with warning.

"Yeah, but there's something different about her now," Trevor continued, oblivious to-- or ignoring-- the tension in Luke's voice. "She knows exactly how to get a guy's attention. And trust me, she's got mine."

Luke couldn't take it anymore. "Dude, you need to chill," he snapped, his eyes narrowing at Trevor. "She's not just some girl you can talk about like that. She's my best friend."

Trevor raised an eyebrow, surprised by Luke's reaction. "Relax, Hughes. I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. It's not like I don't care about her."

"That's exactly why you should be more careful with what you say," Luke shot back, his voice lower but still laced with anger. "She deserves more respect than that."

The room went quiet, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Jack and Cole exchanged glances but stayed out of it, sensing this was something Luke needed to handle on his own.

Trevor finally shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I didn't mean any harm. I care about her too, y'know."

Luke didn't respond, just stared at Trevor until the other boy looked away, focusing on his drink instead. The conversation moved on, but the uneasy feeling in Luke's chest didn't go away.

As Luke lay in bed later that night, he couldn't stop thinking about the way Trevor had talked about Olivia. He knew his reaction had been intense, but he felt like he couldn't help it. Seeing his best friend with someone else, especially someone who looked at her the way Trevor did, made him want to snap.

He didn't know what it all meant, but one thing was clear: this summer was going to be a lot harder than he'd expected.

~~

The house boomed with the bass of music. With their parents away for the weekend, the boys and Olivia had seized the opportunity to throw a party, and the place was packed with people. Outside, the chaos of beer pong and rowdy games filled the air, while inside, the living room had become a makeshift dance floor.

Luke navigated through the crowd, making his way to the kitchen for a refill. He was in no mood to party- and pretty much wanted to be anywhere else. He slowed when he heard two familiar voices-- Trevor and Olivia. They were standing near the counter, the tension between them palpable. Luke hovered just out of sight, listening closely.

"I can't believe our parents trust us enough to leave us alone for the weekend," Olivia said, her voice carrying a playful tone.

Trevor's laugh was easy, casual. "Yeah, well, they figure we're old enough to handle it. Plus, we've done this before at the Hughes' house, no big deal."

Olivia's soft chuckle followed, and Luke could hear the flirtation in her voice, which made his stomach turn. "You make it sound so harmless, but I know you guys. You're trouble."

"We're not that bad," Trevor replied, his voice dropping a notch, laced with a charm that grated on Luke's nerves. "And besides, trouble's more fun."

There was a brief pause, the kind that made the air feel thick with anticipation. Luke's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he watched Olivia take a step closer to Trevor, her hand reaching out to touch his arm lightly.

"You think you're fun, huh?" her tone was teasing, but there was something more there-- something that made Luke's skin prickle with unease.

Trevor leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why don't you find out?"

For a moment, Luke thought he might be able to stop what was happening, might be able to step in and pull her away-- pull them apart. But he was frozen, every muscle tense as he watched Olivia smile at Trevor, a soft, almost nervous smile that Luke had seen a thousand times before. But this time, it wasn't meant for him.

"I think I might just do that," she whispered, her voice so quiet that Luke almost didn't hear it. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she closed the remaining distance between them. Her lips brushing Trevor's in a kiss that was tentative at first, like she was testing the waters.

Trevor responded immediately, pulling her closer, his hand sliding to the small of her back as he deepened the kiss. And that was when something inside Luke snapped.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was the way she melted into Trevor's arms, the way their bodies fit together like they belonged that way. It was the way Olivia's hands moved up to cup Trevor's face, like she'd wanted to do it for a long time. It was the way Trevor's fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss even further.

Luke's heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst. His vision tunneled, and all he could see was them--Olivia and Trevor-- lost in each other. The rest of the world fell away, the noise of the party fading into the background until all that remained was the two of them, completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched.

Oli made a soft, contented sound against Trevor's lips, a sound that Luke had never heard her make before. It was intimate, private, and it twisted something deep inside him. He wanted to look away, to give them privacy, but he couldn't. Is feet were glued to the floor, forced to witness something he wasn't meant to see.

Trevor pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his hands now resting on her waist. He smiled, and the tenderness of it made Luke's blood boil. "Maybe we should take this somewhere a little less... public," Trevor suggested, his voice husky.

Oli nodded, her eyes still locked on his. "Yeah... let's go upstairs."

The words hit Luke like a punch to the gut, but he still couldn't move, couldn't tear his eyes off them as Trevor took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. Luke's fists clenched at his sides as he watched them head towards the stairs, Olivia glancing back only once before she disappeared from view.

For a long moment, he just stood there, the scene replaying in his mind, the bitter taste of jealousy and anger rising in his throat. He wanted to puke and scream. He wanted to punch something.

He turned and left the hall, weaving through the party, his face masking the storm raging in his mind. The noise of the party, the laughter, and the shouts seemed to mock him as he walked outside. Ignoring the concerned looks from his brothers and Cole, he grabbed a beer and chugged it. All he could think about was Olivia and Trevor, and how they'd left together, their intentions clear. And how he couldn't do anything about it.

~~

The party continued in full swing, with music still blaring and people scattered across the backyard, laughing, drinking, and playing games. Luke sat in a lawn chair near the edge of the group, nursing a drink and pretending to be engaged in the conversation happening around him. But his mind was elsewhere, replaying what he had just witnessed in the kitchen over and over again.

He kept his eyes on the entrance to the house, unable to stop himself from waiting--watching-- for Olivia to return. When she finally did, it was like another punch in the gut. She stepped out onto the back porch, her hair slightly touseled, her shirt askew, and her cheeks flushed. She looked around, her eyes scanning the crowd as if she was looking for something-- or someone.

Luke quickly looked away, trying to focus on anything else. He didn't want to see the confusion in her eyes when she noticed that he was ignoring her, but he knew it was inevitable. He braced himself for it, forcing himself to keep his expression neutral as she finally spotted him.

Her face lit up in recognition, and she started towards him, but her steps faltered when she noticed his lack of reaction. She paused, frowning slightly as she tried to catch his eye, but Luke didn't give her the satisfaction. He kept his gaze fixed on the group in front of him, even though he couldn't hear a word they were saying.

"Hey, Lu," she called out, her voice hopeful.

Luke barely glanced at her, giving her only a nod in acknowledgment before turning back to his drink. She hesitated, her brow furrowing in confusion. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, but he leaned away just enough to make it clear he wasn't interested in talking.

"Luke, what's going on?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.

He shrugged, his tone detatched. "Nothing, just busy."

Olivia blinked, clearly thrown off by his cold response. She opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could, the back door swung open again, and Trevor emerged, a grin plastered on his face as he joined the group outside. He looked around, his eyes landing on Olivia, and without missing a beat, he made his way over to her.

"Hey, there you are," Trevor said, sliding up behind Olivia and wrapping his arms aorund her waist. He pulled her close, his chin resting on her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Her confusion melted away the instant she felt Trevor's touch. Her race softened, and she leaned back into him, a smile on her lips. For a moment, she seemed to forget all about Luke, her attention fully absorbed by the boy who now had his arms around her.

"Trevor," she said, her voice playful as she tilted her head to look up at him. "You disappeared on me."

Trevor chuckled, his hands resting comfortably on her hips. "Just had to check on a few things. But I'm back now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Olivia beamed at him, her earlier concerns about Luke seemingly forgotten. She reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face, her fingers lingering on Trevor's arm as if she needed the contact to stay grounded. The tension in her posture was gone, replaced by a relaxed, almost blissful demeanor that made Luke's chest tighten all over again.

Her laugh rang out as Trevor whispered something in her ear, and Luke couldn't help but glance at them. They were completely wrapped in each other, oblivious to everything else. The way Trevor's hands rested possessively on her waist, the way Olivia leaned into his touch--it was like they had forgotten the whole world existed, including Luke.

Any trace of the confusion and worry Olivia had shown just moments before had vanished. It was if Luke's coldness didn't matter anymore, as if she didn't even notice. All she cared about was Trevor, and the realization hit Luke harder than he expected.

He took a long drink from his cup, letting the bitter taste wash away the knot in his throat. The party continued around him, but it all felt distant and unimportant, like white noise. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen, what he'd felt--and how much it hurt to see her look at someone else like that.

But Luke wouldn't let it show, espeically in front of Olivia. He stayed silent, stewing in his own thoughts, while Olivia and Trevor remained lost in their own little world, leaving him on the outside looking in.

~~

The next morning, the house was unusually quiet. Luke was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee, trying to clear his head from the events of the previous night.

His mind was still a mess, replaying the scene of Trevor and Olivia in the kitchen. He hadn't slept well, tossing and turning as he tried to make sense of his emotions, the anger, the jealousy-- everything.

Just as he was starting to lose himself in thought again, Jack strolled into the kitchen, looking surprisingly awake and annoying cheerful. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the counter, smirking at his younger brother.

"Well, well, well, Moosey," Jack started, his tone teasing. "I was wondering when you were finally going to make a move on Oli. I gotta say, I'm impressed."

Luke looked up, brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Jack held up a small, crumpled foil wrapper he'd found discarded on the living room floor. Trevor must've gone to throw it away downstairs. "Found this little guy near the couch. Figure it was about time you two finally, you know... got together."

Luke's stomach twisted at sight of the condom wrapper. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but seeing it now only brought back the memory of Trevor and Olivia all over again. His jaw tightened as he stared at the wrapper, feeling a fresh wave of nausea.

"That's not mine," Luke said flatly, his voice colder than he intended.

Jack's smirk faltered as he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? Then whose is it?"

Luke's grip tightened around his coffee mug, his knuckles turning white. He didn't want to say it, didn't want it admit it aloud, but he knew he had to. "It's Trevor's," he finally muttered, the mords tasted bitter in his mouth. "It was him and Olivia."

For a moment, Jack was stunned into silence, his playful expression dropping as he processed what Luke had just said. "Trevor?" he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice. "You're telling me Trevor and Olivia..."

Luke nodded, unable to say it again. The anger and frustration that had been simmering all night was starting to bubble over, and he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"They were in the kitchen last night," Luke said, his voice rough with emotion. "I walked in on them. Didn't even realize I was there."

Jack blinked, trying to wrap his head around the situation. "Shit, Moose... I didn't know." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to handle this. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you stop them?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Luke snapped. "I didn't want to make a scene. They were all over each other, Jack. She looked so... happy. I just... I couldn't."

Jack sighed, stepping closer to Luke. "I'm sorry, man. I thought... well, I thought it was you and her finally figuring things out."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't," Luke muttered, staring down at the table, the pain of the situation settling in. "And now she's probably going to spend the rest of the summer glued to Trevor, and I'll just have to sit here and watch."

Jack placed a hand on Luke's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Look, maybe it's not as serious as you think. Trevor's... well, he's Trevor. He's probably not thinking long-term, and maybe Olivia's just caught up in the moment. She's getting attention from an older guy. Chicks love that shit."

Luke shurgged off Jack's hand, his frustration too overwhelming to accept any consolation. "I don't care if it's not serious. I just hate seeing them together like that. She's my best friend, Jack. And now... I don't know what we are anymore."

Jack sighed again, understanding his brother’s pain but unsure how to fix it. “Look, Moose, I don’t have all the answers. But if you really care about her, you need to talk to her. Maybe she doesn’t even realize how much this is messing with you.”

Luke shook his head, too angry to think clearly. "What's the point? She's obviously into him, and I'm just... I don't know. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter," Jack insisted. "You can't just sit here and let this eat you up from the inside. If you don't say anything, you'll regret it. Trust me, Moose"

Luke didn't respond, staring down at the coffee cup in his hands, his mind running a mile a minute. He knew Jack was right, but the thought of confronting Olivia--or worse, Trevor--was almost too much to bear.

Jack watched him for a moment longer before sighing and backing off. "Just think about it, okay? I'm here if you need to talk."

With that, Jack left the kitchen, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts. There was still anger and frustration building inside him, but now there was something else--an overwhelming feeling of sadness that made his entire body feel heavy. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Would things with Olivia ever be the same? Was Jack right and Trevor just wanted a quick fuck? Why was this all so complicated?

~~

Jack had been wrong. Trevor was not looking for something short term with Olivia. And the next summer just proved that even more. It was almost impossible to ignore just how deeply Olivia and Trevor had fallen for each other. From the moment they arrived, they were inseperable. It was like they existed in their own little world, completely unaware of the world around them.

Every morning, Luke would find them wrapped up together on the porch, sharing a cup of coffee as they watched the sunrise. Olivia would sit on Trevor's lap, her arms draped around his neck, as they whispered to each other, their foreheads touching. It was almost as if they'd been superglued together, and it was beyond irritating,

But what really got under Luke's skin were the little things--like the way Trevor would brush a strand of hair behind Olivia's ear before leaning in to kiss her, or how Olivia's laugh seemed louder and brighter when she was with him. Even worse were the marks.

One afternoon, as they all lounged by the lake, Luke noticed a series of faint reddish marks on Olivia's neck when she pulled her hair up into a claw clip. Hickeys.

"Did ya have fun last night?" Jack teased, nudging Oli as they all sat on the dock.

She blushed, giving Jack a playful shove. "Shut up, Jack," she giggled, though she didn't seem embarassed--if anything, she looked pleased.

Trevor smirked, sliding his arm around Olivia's waist and pulling her closer. "Maybe a little too much fun," he joked, kissing her on the temple. Oli just laughed, leaning into him, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on his chest.

Luke clenched his fists, staring out at the lake to avoid looking at the happy couple. The sight of them together, so openly affectionate, made him feel like was intruding on something private... something he desperately wished he could unsee, much like the kiss in the kitchen.

As the day went on, it only got worse. During lunch, Trevor fed Olivia bites of his sandwich, and she giggled like it was the most romantic thing in the world. Later, when they were all hanging out in the air conditioned living room, Olivia snuggled up against Trevor's side, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched a movie. Luke tried to focus on the screen, but all he could hear was the soft murmur of their voices as they whispered to each other, completely lost in their own conversation.

When Oli stood up to get a drink, Luke couldn't help but notice the way her shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing another set of hickeys trailing down her side. His jaw tightened, and he quickly looked away, trying to shake the image from his mind.

Late that night, the lake house was quiet, the only sounds coming from the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors. Luke had finally managed to drift off to sleep when a noise jolted him awake—a muffled laugh, followed by a soft thud against the wall.

His heart sank as he realized the source of the sounds: the room next to his. Trevor’s room.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise, but it was impossible. The hushed giggles, the low murmur of Trevor’s voice, and Olivia’s breathy replies seeped through the thin walls, each sound hitting him like a slap in the face. Then, there was the unmistakable creak of the bed springs, and Luke felt like he was going to be puke.

Luke couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of everything he’d been holding in finally broke through, and he stormed out of his room, needing to get away from the gut-wrenching reality just a few feet away. He found Jack in the kitchen, grabbing a late-night snack, and without warning, the floodgates opened.

Jack turned to see Luke pacing back and forth, his hands tugging at his hair in frustration. “What’s going on with you?” Jack asked, clearly concerned.

Luke stopped pacing and faced his older brother, his face twisted in anger. "You said last summer that it wasn't going to be long-term! That Trevor wasn't looking for anything serious, that he'd move on by now!" he burst out, his voice cracking.

Jack sighed, setting down the bag of chips he's been holding. "I didn't think it would be. I thought they'd have their fun, and it would fizzle out. But I was wrong, Luke. They're clearly serious about each other."

"Serious?" Luke echoed, his voice tinged in disbelief. "They're practically glued together, Jack! They're disgusting, and I don't get it. What does Olivia even see in him?!"

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to respond. “Look, I know it sucks to watch them be all lovey-dovey, but Trevor’s a good guy. He makes her happy.”

"Happy?" Luke snapped. "What about me, Jack? I've known her my whole life, and now she's completely forgetten about me because of him. What does she see in Trevor that can't see in anyone else? What's so special about him?"

"Maybe it's just how he makes her feel. Maybe he's the one she needs right now. I don't know, Luke. But it's not like you can force her to feel differently."

"It's not fair! He's always been around, but now it's like he's taken her away from me. And I hate it. I hate seeing them together, hearing them through the damn walls. It's like I'm invisible to her now."

Jack frowned, unsure how to fix his brother's pain. "I get that it's hard, but you've gotta let it go. She's happy, and as much as it sucks, you've gotta accept it. Be there as her best friend. Not a jealous lover."

"I just don't know what he has that I don't."

"Sometimes, people just connect like that. It isn't always about who has known who the longest or who's been there for her through everything. It's about how he makes her feel right now."

Luke just shook his head, not sure how to reply. The thought of Olivia and Trevor being so, so deeply in love made him feel like he was the sickest he'd been in his life. But for Olivia, he'd have to push through.

~~

The following summer brought a strange quiet to the lake. Unlike previous years, Olivia wasn't spending every waking moment with the Hughes family. Instead, she kept to her parents' house next door, avoiding the Hughes' place all together.

Luke noticed her absence immediately. It was hard not to. The usual sounds of her laughter, the sight of her smiling, and the way she'd barge into their house unannouced were all missing. He'd hoped things would return to normal after the last summer, but he was wrong. He felt like he was a wrong a lot when it came to Olivia now.

Jack and Quinn had noticed too, exchanging concerned glances whenever Luke asked if they'd seen her. But Olivia remained elusive, keeping to herself and refusing to join them in any of their usual lake house activities.

Finally, Luke couldn't take it anymore. He needed to get to the bottom of Olivia's disappearance. He made his way to the Jones' cottage, knocking on the door with determination. When Olivia answered, her eyes were red, and she looked like she hadn't slept in days.

"Hey," Luke started softly. "Can we talk?"

She hestitated, but finally stepped to the side to let him in. They sat down, the silence between them heavy.

"I heard that you and Trevor broke up," he wasn't sure how to approach the subject.

She nodded, her hands suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the room. "Yeah... we did."

Luke waited for her to say more, but she didn't. "Why, Oli? What happened between you two?"

Olivia's face crumpled, and she bit her lip as if holding back tears. "He... he thought I was in love with someone else."

Luke's heart skipped a beat. Who could she possibly be in love with?

"What? Why would he think that?"

She shook her head, voice trembling. "I don't know. I tried to tell him it wasn't true, but he just... he didn't believe me. He said he couldn't be with someone who wasn't all in, who might have feelings for someone else."

"Do you?" he asked cautiously. "Have feelings for someone else, I mean?"

She looked away, wiping at her eyes. "It doesn't matter now, does it? Trevor and I are over."

Luke’s heart ached at her pain, and a surge of protectiveness washed over him. He wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into what she was feeling, but he could see how much it was hurting her to talk about it.

"You know we're here for you, right? No matter what," Luke said softly, reaching over to cover her hand with his.

"I know," she whispered. "I just need some space right now."

"Okay. Just... don't shut us out forever, alright? I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

"Thanks, Lu. I appreciate that. Especially after I've been such a shit friend."

"Any time, Oli. Any time."

~~

The next night, the Hughes' house was buzzing with laughter and conversation as the boys and few friends hung out on the deck. But Luke couldn't stop staring at the empty seat he'd made the boys save just in case Olivia decided to come over. He hadn't seen her since the day before, and his worry was growing.

Around midnight, the hangout started to wind down, and Luke decided to call it a night. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard the door creak open. Turning around, he saw Olivia stumbling in, her eyes glassy and movements unsteady.

"Olivia?" he called as he hurried back down the stairs.

She looked up at him with sadness and something he couldn't quite place--something desperate. "Luke," she slurred. "There you are. I've been looking for you."

Luke took in her disheveled appearance. Her hair was a mess, her clothes crumpled, and the scent of alcohol clung to her like a cloud. She was drunk, way more than he'd ever seen her.

"Oli, what're you doing here? You should be home, resting," he tried to lead her towards the door.

But she shook her head, pulling away from his grasp. "No, I don't want to be there. I don't want to be alone," her voice cracked. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Please, Luke... I need you."

Luke froze, his breath catching in his throat as Olivia leaned in closer, her lips inches from his. She was so close, and for a brief moment, the temptation was almost too much to resist. But then he saw the tears in her eyes, the way her hands trembled, and he knew it wasn't right.

"Oli, you're not okay," he stepped back, taking her hands in his. "You've had too much to drink. Let me take you home."

"You don't want me anymore, do you? Because I'm... used. I'm not good enough now."

"Olivia, no. That's not true. You're amazing and I-" he paused, thinking over his words. "I care about you so much, but this... this isn't the right time. You're hurting, and I don't want to take advantage of that."

Olivia's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, Luke. I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

Luke pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close as he cried into her chest. "It's okay, Oli. I'm here for you, no matter what."

He hated seeing her so broken and lost. She needed time to heal, to find herself again. And he'd just have to be patient.

~~

Olivia woke up with a pounding headache and a foggy memory. She groaned, rubbing her temples as she tried to piece together the events of the previous night. Everything felt like a blur--a messy tangle of emotions, confusion, and too much alcohol.

She shuffled downstairs to the kitchen, hoping a cup of black coffee would clear her head. But as she sat down, a sense of unease settled in her stomach. Something had happened last night, something important maybe, but she couldn't quite grasp it.

But before she could dwell on it, there was a knock at the door. She frowned and set her mug down to answer it. She was surprised to find Luke on the other side, looking quite serious.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied. She watched as he walked into the living room, his hands shoved in his pockets, brow furrowed. "Luke, what's going on?"

"Oli, do you remember anything from last night?"

"Not really... I remember drinking a lot and... that's about it. Why? What happened?"

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You came over to our place. You were really upset and... you tried to, uh, make a move on me."

"I what?!"

"Yeah," Luke said, his tone gentle but firm. "You were really drunk. And I could tell you weren't in the right headspace, so I stopped you."

She felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "Oh my god, Luke, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apolgize," he stepped closer. "You were hurting, and you needed someone. I just didn't want you to do anything you'd regret."

"But... why did I do that? I mean, why you?"

Luke hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Oli, I think it's time I'm honest with you. I've... had feelings for you for a long time. Probably longer than I even realized. But I didn't want to mess things up between us, so I never said anything. And then you and Z... I thought I'd lost my chance."

"Luke... I didn't know."

"I know," he said quietly. "And last night, when you came to me like that... it wasn't because you wanted me. It's because you were hurting, and I don't want to be the guy you turn to when you're upset."

"I thought... I thought you didn't want me because I'm 'used.' Because I've slept with Trev."

He gently lifted her chin so she could look at him. "That's not true, Oli. I've never thought of you that way. You deserve so much more than what Trevor gave you, and if I could be the one to make you happy, I would. But only if that's what you really want."

"Luke... I- I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered. "Just... think about it. If you don't feel the same way, that's okay. But if you do... I'm here."

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of Luke's confession hanging in the air. Then, without thinking, Olivia closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was slow and tender, filled with all the emotions they'd both been holding back for so long. When they finally pulled away, Luke pressed his forehead to hers, both of them gasping for air.

"Oli," his voice thick with emotion. "I've wanted this for so long."

"Me too," she whispered back, her hands clutching onto the fabric of his shirt. "I just didn't realize it till now."

Olivia gently tugged him towards her bedroom. Luke hesitated for a second, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, her heart racing. "I'm sure."

And with that, they fell into bed together, finally giving in to the feelings they'd both kept hidden for so long.

~~

Luke and Olivia finally crossed the line they had danced around for years, everything felt different. The sun streamed through the curtains of her bedroom, Olivia stirred awake, feeling content. She must've finally gotten the rest she needed. The warmth of Luke's presence beside her was undeniable. He was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to hers as he tied up his sneakers.

"Morning," he turned to shoot her a soft smile.

"Morning," Olivia replied, sitting up and pulling the covers up around her.

"Are you okay?" he could sense her hestiation a mile away.

"Yeah, I think so."

"We can talk about this later. Just... take it easy today, alright? No more drinking."

She nodded and he walked over to press a kiss on her forehead before he left.

"I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure," she forced a smile. Luke lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then just nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Olivia sank back into the pillows, her mind racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong--terribly wrong. The more she thought about it, the more her insecurities began to take hold. She had slept with Trevor, Luke’s friend, and now she had slept with Luke. What did that make her? A puck bunny? The thought made her stomach turn. She didn’t want to be seen that way, didn’t want to be the girl who bounced between hockey players, even if Luke was different, even if she had real feelings for him.

By the time afternoon had rolled around, Olivia was overwhelmed by doubt. Every time her phone buzzed with a new text from Luke, she ignored it, burying herself in the puzzle her parents had started. She couldn't face him when she felt like this.

Luke was growing concerned. The day before had been a turning point, but now he was being ignored again. Her silence was gnawing at him. He sent another text, that she ignored, and decided to make his way to hers.

He knocked on the door, just as he had the day before. Olivia answered, looking even more stressed than she had been.

"Luke, I..."

"Whatever it is just tell me... please."

"I just... I don't want people thinking I'm some sort of... you know... puck bunny."

"What? Olivia, nobody would ever think that about you."

"But they will, Luke! I was with Trevor, and now we're...you know. People are going to judge, they always do."

He placed a hand on her arm, "You're not a puck bunny, Olivia. You're everything to me. I don't care what anyone else thinks. And if they do judge, that's their problem. Not ours."

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do," he replied without hesitation. "You're not just someone I'm hooking up with. You're my best friend, and I want you to be my... girlfriend."

Her fears melted away almost instantly. "I... I want that too."

Luke pulled her into a tight hug. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go. Ever."

As they held each other, Olivia couldn't believe how perfect things felt. Life wasn't easy, but with Luke by her side, anything was possible.

[soulaires]

Hello everything is fine?

I would like to ask Aaron Warner for something, I imagine something, where maybe the reader got hurt and Aaron takes care of her, changing her bandages, doing the reader's work and well... hugs, LOTS of hugs

Sanctuary.

pairings: Aaron Warner x Reader

summary: his top priority will always be you.

warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, soft Aaron, bf!AaronWarner…

« words: 1,028┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @corpsedoll777

Your day had started like any other, but little did you know that it would take an unexpected turn. As a dedicated commander in the sector, you often found yourself caught up in the chaos of everyday life. On this particular day, however, fate had something else in store for you.

A mundane trip to the training room turned into a clumsy misadventure as you stumbled on an uneven pavement, twisting your ankle. As you winced in pain, you couldn’t help but be grateful that it wasn’t something more serious. Still, the throbbing ache in your ankle demanded attention.

Fortunately, your boyfriend, Aaron Warner, had insisted on accompanying you. His abilities, a gift or perhaps a curse, allowed him to sense the emotions and physical well-being of those around him. Today, as he accompanied you to the training room or gym, an unsettling feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. His instincts were telling him that something wasn’t right.

Aaron swiftly made his way towards you, his mind already calculating the best course of action. As he approached, you tried to hide the pain, a brave smile on your face.

“Love, are you okay?” He asked you, concern etched on his face.

You managed a half-smile, trying to downplay the situation. “I’m fine. Just a little twist, nothing major.” you insisted, but your attempt at bravado was met with a skeptical arch of his eyebrow.

But your boyfriend obviously wasn’t convinced. Aaron took a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he peered into your eyes. “You’re hurt,” he stated, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

You sighed, relenting under his intense gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Aaron, however, was having none of it. With a stern expression, He gently lifted your body, carrying you in a bridal style. ”Let’s get you home and take a look at that ankle.” His touch was both reassuring and possessive, as if he could shield you from any harm with just the strength of his presence.

“I can still walk by myself, you know. I still have my other one.” You stated stubbornly that made him chuckle in amusement,

“Mhm, I know you can but let me, love.” He said as you opened your mouth to protest, but you noticed his tone and action that silenced you. It wasn’t a request; it was a statement. He wanted you to rest and be comfortable.

Once you guys were at your shared bedroom, Aaron guided you to the bed and insisted you put your feet up to the little chair he brought. He then kissed your forehead, “I will be right back, my love.” And he disappeared somewhere, returning with an ice pack and a first aid kit.

“I think I might have some bandages somewhere in here,” he mumbled, rifling through the contents of the first aid kit.

He then carefully assessed the extent of your injuries. His fingers traced the lines of a bruise, his touch gentle yet purposeful. “You need to take better care of yourself,” he chided softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection.

“You don’t have to be worried about me.” You insist.

His lips curled into a small, affectionate smile. “Love, it’s kind of my thing, worrying about you. Now, let me finish this, and we can cuddle to sleep.”

As he worked, Aaron’s mind raced with thoughts of how he could make things easier for you. His protective instincts kicked into overdrive, and he couldn’t fathom the idea of you enduring unnecessary pain.

"Better?" he asked, looking up at you with a soft smile.

You nodded, grateful for your beloved. “Much better. Thank you, darling.”

He sat down beside you, placing a soft kiss to your lips and softly pinching your nose. “You are very much welcome, my love. Now, you just rest here. I’ll take care of everything else, yeah?”

And true to his word, your boyfriend seamlessly stepped into the role of caretaker. He fetched a warm tea and was making sure you were comfortable on the bed. He even went as far as grabbing your book and setting it up on the bedside table. ”I've got everything under control,” he assured you, his gaze warm and reassuring.

You couldn’t help but smile at his unwavering support. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Aaron smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I will try my best. Now, get some rest, love”

As you settled into the sanctuary of the shared bedroom, Warner didn’t leave your side. Instead, he draped a blanket over your shoulders, peppered you with kisses, played with your hair, and hugged you most of the day. The concern in his eyes never wavered.

Hours passed, marked by the occasional murmur of conversation and the gentle hum of the surroundings. Aaron, always vigilant, kept an eye on you, ensuring that you were comfortable and at ease. The day transformed into a quiet sanctuary, a haven.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, ”Much better, thanks to you.” As you leaned over to his chest.

Aaron holds you tighter in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Of course, love. It's the least I can do.”

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done today, baby,” you said, your gaze filled with gratitude.

He smiled, his eyes softening. “It’s my pleasure. I hate seeing you in pain, and if I can make things a little better, then it is worth it.”

Before you could respond, Aaron wrapped his arms around you in a more tight embrace. His warmth enveloped you, and you felt a sense of security in his arms.

“Thank you again for taking care of me,” you whispered, your head nestled against his chest.

“Always,” Aaron replied, his voice a soothing melody. “And I’m sorry you got hurt,” he murmured against your hair, his words a tender caress. “I wish I could shield you from every pain.”

You leaned into the embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort he provided. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you whispered, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his back.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Chapter 2 ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

I glared at Kate at a distance where the tips of our noses touched.

(Ha…….Really, not good.)

(Her eyes.)

Despite being pinned down and being shown the overwhelming difference in power, Kate’s eyes never gave up.

She glared at me too straight on, with a glow in them. 

(……Ah, something like this happened before.)

She was kidnapped on my birthday, and had collapsed because she didn’t leak any information about me.

When I saw her injured, my core went completely cold. 

FLASH BACK TO HIS BD STORY

Jude: As ya said, I'm threatenin’ ya now.

Jude: But ...... I could snap your neck in an instant. Besides, the people I'm dealin’ with won't even hesitate.

Jude: If you're aware that you're being pushed away, I'm sure a smart young lady would know what to do.

Kate: I would have stayed out of it if I could have.......

Jude: But?

Kate: Every time we go on a mission together or escape from a predicament, I realize various things and change.

Kate: I don't mind that kind of change in myself.

FLASH BACK ENDS

I don't remember being kind to her or taking care of her carefully.

There have been times when she looked at death.

She has learned so much that she can no longer be called a “naive young lady.”

Despite this, she is a brazen woman with annoying eyes who maintains her clean side even when she knows of dirty maliciousness.

(I know I like this girl.)

(It’s interesting to see the fighting spirit that comes from her, but…)

(If I don't kick her out now... one day...she’ll die.)

(Then, why don't I draw the line here?)

I put my hand around Kate’s neck and squeeze it tighter than I did that day.

Kate: …..Ts…….ah.

Jude: I told ya before that when your carotid artery is constricted, ya instantly can't breathe.

Jude: Are ya scared? Is it painful?

Jude: If you're going to give up here, I'll make it easy for ya, but what are ya goin’ to do?

Kate: Oh……ugh.

Jude: I can't hear anything. Could ya speak more clearly?

When I applied more force and tried to knock Kate unconscious, Kate’s arm suddenly pushed me away.

Kate: Cough….cough……

Jude: Ha, you’re so powerful.

Kate: Again, please!

Jude: ………

(This girl, really?)

After that, Kate kept coming back to fight again and again.

Perhaps Ellis couldn't bear to see it, and suggested another game, 

Even so, I still ate many episodes…..***

Kate: …….

Jude: Ha, ya look exhausted.

Jude: There's no need for me to sign the consent form. Why don't ya give up quietly and pack your things?

Kate: There's still time until today ends.

Kate: I won't give up until you sign it.

Ellis: Kate…..

(She really is a stubborn woman. There's no end to it.)

It's not that I didn't imagine this would happen.

Jude: I don't want to be with ya forever. Let's go settle the matter. 

Kate: This is the port where you manage the logistics depot, right Jude?

Jude: As ya know, we rent our warehouses to others with interest.

Jude: There was a man there who was making a living doin’ bad business.

Kate: I'm sure... something like that happened before, right?

Kate: He was using Jude's warehouse for human trafficking...a man with a bowler hat!

Ellis: That's when Kate was with Jude for the first time.

Jude: What a good memory!

Kate: I was attacked and almost killed, so even though I hate it, I will never forget it.

Kate: So, since you brought me here, you're trying to make me do something, right?

Jude: There’s a guy who has done something similar to that man in the bowler hat.

Jude: He’s got some classified documents hidden somewhere in a warehouse up ahead.

Jude: Get me those classified documents and then we'll talk. 

Kate: I’ll find the classified documents that’ll benefit you, Jude.

Kate: If I find them, will you sign it?

Jude: That’s what I’m sayin’.

Jude: I’m not patient, I’ll only wait until midnight.

Kate: I understand. Your promise is absolute.

Ellis: Kate, so you want me to follow you?

Kate: Thank you, Ellis. But this is my game, and I'll do my best on my own.

With that said, Kate ran away from the scene.

Ellis: A guy doing bad business in a warehouse who is hiding classified documents. Just like the one I killed yesterday……..

Ellis: Jude, no way!

Jude: No, of course not. There is no such person or classified document anywhere.

Jude: She’s gonna keep looking for something that's not there, and at midnight, I'm gonna call it a night.

Ellis: It's like Cinderella in bad taste.

Jude: The best fairy tale mistake.

Lighting a cigarette, I inhale the smoke deeply into my lungs, and exhale.

(Now she’s washed her hands from Crown with this.)***

(This is a happy ending. It's a lukewarm happy ending that suits her.)

He tossed the shortened cigarette to the ground and stomped it down with his foot.

The on-site supervisor came running towards me, the color of his complexion changed.

Supervisor: Mr. Jude, why are you here? I’ve been trying to contact you! 

Jude: What happened?

Supervisor: You remember that guy you sent to the lab for illegal human trafficking here before.

Ellis: Is that.….that's the guy in the bowler hat who Kate was talking about earlier, isn't it?

Supervisor: That man escaped from the lab and attacked a weapons store. He killed the clerk and stole a gun...

Supervisor: As he was escaping he said he was going to kill Jude Jazza!

Jude: ………

Supervisor: The man's goal is revenge against you. Please run away and hide yourself quickly…..

FLASH BACK

Jude: We had a contract that said you couldn't buy or sell humans, right?

Bowler Hat Man: I'm hoping you'll let me off the hook there.

Bowler Hat Man: Well, even poor people can sell at a good price.

Bowler Hat Man: It'll line your pockets and clean up this docklands cesspool that is the Port of London.

Jude: ……….

Bowler Hat Man: You, who love other people's misfortune and money, will let me off the hook, won't you?

Bowler Hat Man: If you agree, your lover will be returned to you unharmed.

FLASHBACK ENDS

(He’s seen Kate’s face.）

Jude:…..Damn, how bad can her luck be?

Supervisor: Oh, hey, Mr. Jude, where are you going?

Ellis: Jude!

Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.

(……Where the hell is she?)

Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.

When I opened the door to the warehouse, I found-

[Previous] [Bitter End] [Premium End] [Master List]

***HELP! I could not t/l this line to save my life! It’s a simple sentence (?), but it literally said he was consuming editions. I managed to t/l it into “episodes” after a lot of research. I believe he is implying that because Kate keeps coming back to spar with him, he is comparing each fight to an episode and consuming it as his win and her loss??

*** 足 denotes leg or foot. 洗 denotes cleansed, scoured, wash. So, I decided to nix leg/foot and use hands as an alt since westerners are more familiar with that term.

[laurentidal]

House Defending

Jenn looked out the window and saw the pretty realtor leading someone new up to the house next door. Sara had been showing the house for five months, but Jenn hadn't let any offers come in just yet. She was still looking for that little something in a neighbor. She remained unsatisfied.

She walked over to the house and let herself in, just as she always did. She could here Sara talking from somewhere deeper into the building. Showing the man the kitchen or the back bedroom. Then the pair walked around the corner and found Jenn sitting on the couch waiting for them.

"And who do we have today, Sara?" Jenn purred at the realtor.

"This is Max, Jenn. Max, this is Jenn. She lives next door and like to come meet the prospective buyers."

Max, for his part, had a lot of trouble stopping his eyes from locking directly onto Jenn's deep and prominent cleavage. He stuttered a hello and Jenn chuckled in a disarming way.

"He's very cute," she said winking at Sara. "I'm glad you brought him around. Did you already get the full tour, sweetie?"

Max was blushing deeply now.

"Not yet," Sara said. "I still have to show him the bedroom."

Jenn's lips curled into a smile. "I can take him. I spent enough time up there when Dale lived here. Follow me, Maxy." She stood abruptly, making sure her tits wobbled strongly in her low cut top. And when she turned, Max got a look at her ass. It was round and full and he found he had even more trouble keeping his eyes off it then her chest. At least she couldn't see him staring with her back turned.

"I knew the old owner well," Jenn was saying. "He used to treat me very kindly. I've been trying to meet the possible owners so that I know the person who moves in will be able to fill Dale's shoes."

Her ass swayed as she walked and talked. Down the hall. Up the stairs. Max stared and listened.

"We'd argue about things. You wouldn't believe how we used to go back and forth." She stressed those words, timing them with the sway of her hips. "Back and forth. And then he'd realize he couldn't win against me. It was impossible to resist. So he quit trying. He stopped fighting and gave into me. He surrendered. He learned that it was easier to just listen and obey. Don't you think, Max?"

"Huh?" Max asked, distracted.

"Poor boy. You must be so tired of fighting your urges," she said as they entered the bedroom. "You've been trying so hard not to stare and offend. But I bet you've been staring the whole way here, weren't you. Of course you were. Look at the bulge in your pants. You don't get that from looking at the drywall."

She pulled her shirt down, letting her tits spill out into clear view.

"Sleepy Max wants to look at these."

He nodded, unblinking. His mouth fell open and a small line of drool began to drip off his chin.

"So cute. Sara, dear!" Jenn called. "I believe we're ready for you."

Sarah walked in the room, completely naked.

"Get me ready for him, doll."

"Yes, Mistress," the realtor replied happily. She stripped Jenn's clothes off , then Max's. She put Max on his knees at the foot of the bed.

"Now Max, you're going to get something of an audition. Satisfy me, and I will allow you to put an offer in on this house. I need to know that Dale's replacement will be able to handle me. But from the looks of that monster, we may finally have a winner. Sara, as always."

"Yes, Mistress," she said again before retreating to the chair where she'd watch them fuck. Part of Sara wanted the commission. But a deeper part would miss these weekly sessions. Perhaps one of Jenn's other neighbors was looking to sell.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🔧😢🩹🥰

I am literally binge reading all of your DD works and I just have to thank you for your absolutely incredible writing! 😭🙌

There are very few fics of Lonny out there, so is there anyway we could see how he’d react to seeing the person he’s had a crush on (reader) having witnessed what he did to Bud? Like I just want to hug him and tell him it’s okay and that it was an accident. Little baby didn’t mean to! 🥺

Forced Limitations - Lonny Crane/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, canon rewrite (the first half hour for now), lots of panic, canon violence, character death (Buddy 🥺), co-workers to friends to ride or dies, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual crushes, this one is heavy but if you've seen the movie you'll expect it.

Wordcount: 9486

Summary: Today was supposed to be such a normal day. You were even going to maybe talk to your crush this time if he didn't say anything first. So why were you now hiding in the basement of your work while you crush stared you down with a bloodied wrench in his shaking hand and fear in his eyes?

Notes: My first Lonny! Thank you so much for reading first of all 💗💗💗 it's because of you guys and your wonderful support for my writing that I'm enjoying these as much as I am! As requested this is an au of the movie down to the dialogue (forever grateful to mediarips with subs included hehe), get that lady outta here I hate her, but because I left this open-ended I might just have to write a part 2 if I can figure out a way for them to both escape 😏 For now I hope you like this, he really didn't mean to and this has been weighing on me since I saw the movie /)o(\

Today was just supposed to be another normal, boring day at work. 

You didn't have much going on, nothing penciled into your calendar on your apartment wall, no reminders in your phone, in fact it was probably the most normal your day could get. You left on time, grabbed yourself a coffee and a box of donuts to share with everyone you worked next to, and of course didn't forget the separate Boston Creme just for the cute handyman who smiled at you whenever you caught him staring. You blushed already thinking about him, neither of you had really talked, but you knew he was a sweet guy just based on your minimal interactions with him outside of your donut drop off. 

He wasn't very social, he stuck to his partner's side like glue for the most part, and Bud was also a good guy, extremely knowledgeable and able to solve any problem you guys brought to him before any of you could even figure out what was actually wrong, but sometimes you wished you could just have a conversation with Alonso by himself, get to know him a little better. You'd been trying for days now that you knew he preferred the Boston Creme, a popular donut in your group that tended to get snatched up fast from the random assortment you were always gifted. 

You’d been getting the baker's dozen with his as the 13th was your attempted way to start something, but so far he'd just noticed that his donut was there and unsnatched, sent Bud over to grab it before anyone else did, and then wandered off to eat it somewhere he wouldn't make a mess for anyone to step on, like the cafeteria on the ground floor. 

You wouldn't let that happen today you decided as you pulled into the line to get into work, security giving everyone a random check today for some reason to make sure they all worked there. That was odd, but you'd heard whispers that they were thinking of upping security around here anyway, something about attempted break-ins, so you just got your ID ready, popped the trunk when they asked, and kept on driving until you found a place to park. You gave a wave to Bud when you saw him head for the door, Alonso not with him as usual; he always came early before the rush, you could only guess the swarm of people made him uncomfortable, and you had to admit he had the right idea as everyone shuffled towards the door.

‘Weird about those men, isn’t it?’ you asked him as you flashed your IDs again to get inside, one card after the other to allow you entrance. ‘I mean, I get the extra security, but they looked like they were searching for something.’

‘Poor Lonny must’ve had a hard time with them, he’s always here as soon as the lights come on,’ Bud figured, the two of you walking through the lobby until he started to veer away towards the elevators. His place was in the basement, their own special break room down there while they monitored everything whenever something didn’t need to be looked at, and you pursed your lips with a glance down at the box in your arms before chasing after him.

‘Hey! Hey, uh, I was wondering if maybe you could… escourt me down to the break room today, maybe leave this for Alonso if he’s running late?’ you suggested nervously, no one other than those two usually going down there, but the other man just looked you over a moment but chuckling to himself like he’d just realized something.

‘Ha, imagine that; c’mon, gotta get you to your desk before Bossman notices you’re down there,’ he told you before leading the way, and as payment for his tour he grabbed his own donut first on the way down. ‘Never come down here without either of us, this place is a real maze with a ton of hazards, and also be sure to watch your head, you never know what’s gunna hit you until it’s too late,’ he warned as the elevator came to a stop, and you closed the lid of your coffee a little tighter before following him out. 

‘You know I’ve never been down here before, not even when I started,’ you told him as you walked, your eyes taking in everything and nearly allowing you to bump your head just as he knew you would, his hand coming out to protect your forehead before you knocked it off a low-hanging series of pipes.

‘Don’t think many of the people upstairs have, it’s mostly just me and Lonny and the occasional fill-in whenever we call out, that’s not often though, Lonny’s a very hard worker, y’know.’ You were too busy ducking to notice the glance he gave you when he was done speaking, the place indeed a maze as he led you right to the middle where their solitary room to themselves was hidden; inside was a small kitchen against the left wall, a table with two chairs against the right wall, the others folded up nearby since they were unneeded, and four lockers tucked against the far right corner. 

Only two of them had names, the company had only needed them once it became clear that they made a great team and rendered more help unnecessary, and Alonso was indeed in as he sat at the table and ate a bowl of cereal. He looked up when he heard Bud arrive, and he was in the middle of a hello and a wave when you walked into his view; instantly his eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed, and you watched as he turned away from you and tried to swallow the mouthful of cereal he was now choking on a little. You’d surprised him, that much was obvious, but it was blush that had you freezing as your own heated your face right up despite the chill of the room.

‘Well, now that I’m clocked in I’d better check out that problem from yesterday, y’know the one, way up on the 6th floor, you can handle things down here for a bit, right?’ Bud told Alonso as he quickly grabbed his orange uniform and started pulling it on, the other man fumbling his words and dropping his spoon when he received an encouraging rub to the back of his head that messed up his long hair. 

‘Bud!’ he yelped as his desperate cry to not be left alone, and then it was just the two of you, very much alone while his cereal turned to mush. ‘Uh… hi,’ he said after a while, his hands hurriedly straightening his hair back down so he wouldn’t look a mess, and you could only murmur the same before you realized the burning in your palm was actually because of your coffee.

‘Shit, ow, can I set this down?’ you asked him quickly as you rushed for the table, and he nodded as he cleared a space for you, the rest of the table covered in old newspapers and magazines to read so they could pass the time on slow days. ‘Thanks, I uh, I wanted to make sure you got this, you know how the others are,’ you stuttered nervously, his chosen donut thankfully avoiding being crushed by your worried hands only because it was set safely on top of the large box.

‘Oh, thank you,’ he stuttered right back, this was the most he’d ever said to you since you’d started working there, Bud usually doing all the talking for him while he just listened. His eyes lit up when he saw that you’d gotten his favourite and it made your smile grow wide, your hands shaking a little less as he carefully peeled back the paper from the bag in order to save the chocolate on top. ‘I love these ones, growing up it was always the first picked by my siblings, so… I’m glad you keep bringing them to work, I always get here before that place opens,’ he shared with you before taking a bite, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the simple joy of tasting something delicious spread across his face.

‘I didn’t know you had siblings,’ you said as you took the remaining seat, your coffee reopened and your own donut chosen while you took a sip, and he looked at the door before sitting with you, your chairs so close together that your knees touched before he moved away. This was now the closest you’d ever been as well, and you realized you’d much rather risk being late in order to hear more than head upstairs and start working.

‘Four of them, I’m the youngest,’ he told you between bites, his cereal forgotten as he licked cream and chocolate off of his fingers a moment before going to the sink and washing his hands with a bit of embarrassment. ‘You- you’d think growing up in a family that big I’d be able to talk to people better, right?’

You took a bite of your own donut before shaking your head, and he seemed surprised by your answer as he sat back down again. ‘Family is different, sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers than your own flesh and blood,’ you thought aloud, and he listened intently in genuine interest. ‘But, you don’t have to be afraid of talking to me, I don’t bite…’ Your face lit up and you distracted yourself with more coffee at your choice of words, but he didn’t have the same problem as you as he tucked his hair behind his ear and really thought it over.

‘I- I’ve been trying to, actually,’ he muttered almost to himself, and you set your cup down to listen this time, ‘but every time I see you you’re always surrounded by people.’

You thought to yourself a moment before opening the box again and offering him a second donut, and Alonso looked between them and you before picking another and starting on it. ‘Well, guess I’ll have to stop by here every morning then, so we can talk,’ you offered, and he seemed genuinely happy about it as he flashed you a nervous but hopeful smile. You were smiling back when your phone went off, one of your cubiclemates was asking about her donuts, and you swore to yourself when you saw the time. ‘I’m late, I gotta run back up, but it was really nice talking to you, Alonso.’

‘Lonny,’ he said as he stood, and he towered over you as he handed you the box, ‘you can call me Lonny, everyone else does.’

‘Alright, then it was nice to officially meet you, Lonny.’ His smile was so infectious and wide that it made you wonder why it’d taken you so long to do this, and by the time you reached your floor you were practically twitterpated to no one’s surprise.

‘Finally talked to Tall, Cute, and Silent?’ your friend asked with a knowing smirk, and you made a face back at her as you presented everyone with the treats that were left. They devoured them like animals until only the crumbs were left as usual, and as you tossed out the box you found yourself already planning on maybe inviting him out for lunch today if he was interested. As such, you didn’t pay much attention to your work, just tapping out slowly over the keys while you took in no information, and when the speakers you didn’t even know were above you suddenly crackled to life it actually made you jump you were so distracted.

‘All employees, no matter what you’re doing, please stop and lend me your full attention,’ the announcement began, everyone around you having the same reaction of, ‘What’s going on?’ ‘There are currently 80 of you in the building. In eight hours, most of you will be dead.’

Your blood ran cold, this had to be some kind of joke, but when you looked around you saw that no one was laughing.

‘Your chance of survival increases by following my orders, and excelling at the tasks I place before you,’ the speaker continued, his voice surprisingly calm and almost a bit excited at what he was saying, and you started to feel sick at the thought that this was real, he was completely serious, and that was why security had been so tight when you’d arrived. ‘Your first task is simply this: Murder any two of your fellow employees within the next half hour.’

You spilled your coffee, the dark liquid spreading over your desk and onto the floor, but no one cared between those who were listening and those who’d already decided that this really had to be a joke.

‘How they are killed, or how they are chosen to be killed, is of no consequence. But if there are not two dead bodies in the building within 30 minutes, you will face repercussions.’

‘This isn’t real, right?’ you asked your friend, her face calm but you could see it in her eyes, that doubt that was taking hold of you. ‘I mean, they aren’t really asking us to kill each other, are they?’

‘It’s all bullshit, probably some test to weed out the bad employees, you know there’s a few on the 5th floor who could stand a good kick in the pants,’ she said dismissively, but when she waved her hand you didn’t miss the way it shook.

‘Still, I don’t like this, I’m gunna- I’m just gunna take a walk, see what the others are saying.’ You stood when the voice never returned, stepping through your coffee and leaving tracks of it after you as you headed for the elevator, the basement button staring at you as the urge to press it and see what Bud had to say about all this hit you like a truck; he was a smart guy, and Al- Lonny would be there too, if he wasn't afraid and didn’t believe it then that would be enough for you. You hit the lobby button instead and tried to breathe when the entire building shook, a series of rumbles making the cables shake just enough to scare you. Your hands splayed over the walls to brace yourself until it was over, and when you reached your destination you found not only a gathering already there, but also the cause of the quake.

The front doors as well as the windows were now covered up with what looked like a blast shield, something that was supposed to be for protection now trapping you all inside. Your panic rose even higher, the familiar faces of your co-workers now warped into confusion and worry, a few of them even attempting to break the walls down to get free but to no avail. You started to shake when the elevator beside you dinged, and the relief that washed over you when you saw Bud and then Lonny exit was so strong that it nearly knocked out your legs from under you.

You followed after them as they spoke with someone from one of the floors higher than yours, Mike; he was a nice guy, there was nothing bad you could say about him, but he was serious now as everyone gathered around to whisper, your hand hovering just over Lonny’s back as he concentrated and didn’t even notice you. ‘What d’you think, Mikey? What’s this all about?’ Bud asked him while they stared what was supposed to be the front doors down.

‘I don’t know. You think you got a way to get through it?’ Mike wondered, tensions rising as your superiors tried to take charge and calm everything down in the distance.

‘Blowtorch could do the job, but I don’t know how thick it is,’ Bud offered up, already calculating what needed to be done based on all his years on the job. ‘It could take a while.’

‘What if we try cutting through one of the walls first?’ Mike suggested, his eyes moving to the normal concrete instead. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to try and get through cement than get through whatever that is?’

Bud shook his head, repeating just the word no to himself with such certainty that it made you finally latch on, and Lonny jumped and turned to see you behind him. You looked up at him, unable to force a comforting smile when you saw his eyes, so he made one for you, his hand over your shoulders and rubbing your arm before he turned back to Bud, he’d have a plan. ‘This metal surrounds the entire building,’ he told them, the other man with you speaking up next.

‘So the whole building’s covered?’ he asked only for Bud to unfortunately confirm it, there was no knocking down a wall and escaping without getting through that metal first.

‘It’s worth a shot, though, right? The blowtorch?’ Mike confirmed before they could lose hope, Lonny glancing down at you and holding you a little tighter.

‘It’s worth a try,’ he agreed with a nod, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to Mike or to you when he said it. Bud then also noticed you were there when he went to pat Lonny on the back and smacked you instead, and he apologized before the two were walking away, your shoulders already hunching up without him there; you’d only just spoke that morning, which felt so long ago now, but you felt safe around him, if this was really happening then you could protect each other, and you went to follow when Bud noticed and held you back.

‘Easy now, just stay with the group, we’ll be back in a minute,’ he told you reassuringly, and you glanced over to Lonny before nodding and going to find your friends. Everyone had run to the lobby with the raising of the shield, and there was now no doubt between you all as you gathered in the corner and watched the others talk amongst themselves.

‘They’re gunna try and burn a hole through the door, see if we can get out that way,’ you whispered, not wanting to spread the plan in case it didn’t work, ‘they just went down to get the blowtorch, they’ll be right back.’

‘You gunna stick to your boytoy when he does?’ your friend joked so suddenly that you felt the need to reprimand her to for saying that first of all, but the second you looked at her you saw that she was just making jokes to hide the fact that she was fucking terrified. So you let it slide, your hand rubbing her shoulder just as Lonny had done to you.

‘I dunno, do you guys have any ideas?’ you asked them, each one shaking their heads.

‘I heard a few people went to the roof, we could try that,’ another suggested, but you didn’t like heights all that much to begin with, mixing that with the current situation might actually make you faint.

‘You can go, I’m gunna stay here, see how the door goes,’ you decided, and your small group split up just as your boss walked into the room along with the two men just below him; one of them was a real asshole, you didn’t bother with him, your focus on Mr. Norris as he spoke.

‘Hey, listen up, everybody, okay?’ he called out over the room, his voice echoing even louder thanks to the shield. ‘I’m Barry Norris, the COO here, for people who don’t know. Listen, I’m very aware that this is a very… hell, to say the least, a very strange situation here. But I don’t believe there’s any cause for panic, all right? We’re still trying to figure out exactly what the situation is, but I’m certain there’s a rational explanation. This is a government building. We think maybe somebody put precautions in place in case of a military event. Obviously these walls. Now, someone has clearly discovered this feature, and they’re having a little fun at our expense, okay? Whoever’s doing this, the object is to get all of you upset. So let’s not play into that, okay? Let’s just remain calm, chill out, and take a few minutes to figure out exactly what’s happening, okay? So, thank you. I’m gunna go work on that. And I'll circle back to you as soon as I can. Thanks, everybody.’

It made sense, it was a long speech but it did make sense, but there was a part of you that couldn’t forget the checkpoint this morning, how everyone had been searched so carefully… no, this felt planned, and when the elevator pinged you grabbed your friend and hurried right on over. There was no time to stop and chat, the men before you were on a mission, and you gave them space to work as they put on their protective gear and fired up the blowtorch.

You’d never seen one in real life, why would you ever need to before this? And the blue flame drew you in as Bud held it against the metal until an entire minute had passed. The two of you leaned in at the same time when they sat back and lifted their goggles to see what the damage was, Lonny using a cloth to wipe away the dark burns. You couldn’t hear what they were saying from there, but you knew it wasn't good when Lonny then touched it with his bare hand despite the heat of the flame. You held your friend a little tighter as Bud then did the same, this wasn't good, if not even a blowtorch could break through this stuff then what hope did you have of getting out even if this was just a cruel joke?

You let go of each other when you realized you were sweating, your comfy work shirt turning into something stifling at your closeness, and when you looked around and saw that everyone else was in a similar state you knew that this wasn't just nerves. ‘It’s too hot, they’re gunna suffocate us in here,’ your friend mumbled as she wiped off her forehead, the sweat starting to bead again the moment her hand moved away. ‘This is bullshit, why hasn’t anyone come for us yet? Screw this, I’m heading to the roof for some air, you coming?’

‘No, no you know I can’t go up that high,’ you said quickly before starting to head for Lonny, you needed to know what was happening before your anxiety started to take over again. She stopped you in your tracks, tried to pull you right back while they kept trying, her grip on you way too tight in this heat.

‘I think you need to get over that shit before you pass out down here, look around, look at everyone right now; it’s sweltering in here, I just saw Willy burn through three bottles of water by himself, so why don’t we grab a few, take the elevator, and get some fresh a-’

She never got to finish her sentence, the back of her neck exploding out and making her fall limp into your arms, the too tight grip she had on you now nonexistent as you stared down and screamed. Everyone turned towards you before it happened again, another person falling before someone shouted, ‘Somebody’s shooting!’ Everyone took cover from your attacker, your body frozen in fear until you felt more hands on you; Lonny grabbed you and pulled you over to the chairs where Bud was already ducking down, your friend falling from your arms and to the floor as you were forced to let go.

Pandemonium erupted all around you as you hit the floor hard, your back pressed to his chest and both him and Bud protecting you when you were still too numb to protect yourself. There were so many screams, no one knowing when they’d be shot next, but even when more people went down all you could do was stare at the lifeless eyes of the person you’d been working next to for the past 3 years. You felt cold despite the heat, Lonny’s panicked breathing right in your ear while you didn’t hold him back, and only when Mr. Norris, or Barry, now, there was no more chain of command after this, walked over to one of the bodies did everyone stop panicking long enough to feel confusion over his bravery at still standing.

‘What the hell?’ you heard Bud whisper above you when Mike ran over to join him, Barry’s voice loud enough for everyone to hear over the ringing silence.

‘That’s not a bullet wound.’

More of them gathered but the three of you stayed where you were, waiting to hear what was going on, but their voices were lower now, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Bud leaned away from you a little to listen, but the moment he did Lonny started to panic, and you felt a bit of life come back to you as you weakly held his arm to let him know you were still there. Instantly he looked down and held you tighter, you were his lifeline now that the bullets had stopped flying, and when you looked back up at him you saw the way everyone was touching the backs of their necks out of the corner of your eye.

All at once you felt your hand raise to your own, your knuckles brushing against his shirt as you felt the scar under your fingertips, and the fear replaced everything numb inside you until it was all you knew.

Mike realized something and ran, Bud watching him go before getting up and silently asking the two of you to follow; you did, your fear only spreading to Lonny as you held each other, but Bud remained calm as he opened up his toolbox and reached inside. He pulled out a hammer and large wrench, and the former was heavy when he handed it to you and tried to get Lonny to look at him. He said his name and made him only hold you harder, it was starting to hurt, but you’d rather feel that than the cold wood and steel under your palms.

‘Hey, stop. Don’t cry, okay?’ Bud told the man behind you, and you looked up to see that he was so afraid he was actually crying, his hands trembling as they bunched up your shirt. ‘Take this, and say goodbye, alright?’ He pressed the wrench into Lonny’s hand the moment he was able to get him to let go of you, and it looked even heavier than your hammer as he held it before you. ‘Let them go, and follow me, we’re gunna fix this and I need you to watch my back.’

‘But…’ He didn’t want to leave you, and you honestly didn’t want to leave either of them after losing your friend, and Bud leaned in closer and lowered his voice even more as he met your eyes.

‘Find a place to hide, we’ll find you within the hour, don’t come out before then, you hear me?’ he told you sternly yet carefully, they’d be sitting ducks in the basement if people started actually killing each other as commanded despite the maze, and your safety needed to come first while they worked without worry. So you nodded, Lonny nuzzling into the side of your head with a whimper that any other day would’ve made your heart flutter, but now it could only break as Bud helped him let go. You stepped aside and watched as Bud wrapped his hands behind Lonny’s neck, kept eye contact until he was calming again, and when he asked for something called a duke Lonny just nodded before pressing his forehead to his friend’s.

That’s what made them such a good team, you knew Lonny to be a good worker but it was thanks to Bud being there to keep him level that he was able to shine here, and you hated Belko for ever hiring the both of them along with yourself now now that you knew what they were doing to them. Not everyone who worked there was great, even you weren’t a saint, but Lonny was pure, and you regretted every single morning where you’d only looked but never approached when he met your eye and turned away.

Bud went to lead the way back to the elevator, and you knew as soon as the doors closed that you couldn’t stay up here, not alone with this uncertainty. You watched your co-workers, all of them strangers to you now, run after Mike when shouts came down the hall, but you didn’t follow after them; you needed to hide, just like Bud said, and even if they might be sitting ducks that didn’t mean you had to be in that maze. You hit the button and took the elevator down, making sure to take the long way around to the break room and go from there. You knew something like hiding under the table or cramming yourself into one of the empty lockers wasn't really feasible, but there were a ton of other hiding places nearby it, maybe if you even hid well enough you’d be able to hear them from a safe distance away and get their attention if anything happened.

You kept your head on a swivel as you walked, made sure you wouldn’t bump into them and make them send you elsewhere where anyone could find you, and you were just about to loop around when you noticed a door that brought you even further in. You opened it, a long hallway ahead of you, and you decided on it as you jogged down and found a closed off spot to duck between. It was tight, but you were successfully hidden from view, and it gave you a good vantage point of anyone who might come across you as you curled up and held your hammer close to your chest. 

You’d gotten all of two seconds to strap in for the long haul when you heard the door open again, and you held your breath until you heard Lonny’s voice echo down the hallway: ‘They’re trying to freak us out by shutting down the air-co, man,’ he was telling Bud, and your moment of relief only slipped back into worry when it hit you that if anyone was bound to find you in here it’d be them if they stopped to look. ‘That’s their plan, right, Bud?’ A pause, Bud was silent as they walked, and that was only making him nervous again, you could hear it in his voice when he asked him for confirmation again. ‘Do you think it is, Bud? Do you think that’s their plan?’

‘I don’t know, Lonny,’ Bud said exasperatedly, he was letting his own panic show when he couldn’t give him a solid answer, and a pit landed hard in your stomach when they turned and stopped not 10 feet away from you. They started checking out the machine against the wall, which you soon realized was the air conditioning aka the thing that was currently not working and making everyone overheat in their own skins, of course you’d stop at the one place they needed to be, but it was fine. They were so distracted by it that you could continue hiding and then they wouldn’t have to worry about sending you out there again, so you remained silent and just listened while they tried to figure it out. 

Bud turned on a light and confirmed that it wasn't working right at the source, every breath you took sounding like thunder in your ears when you realized that if he turned then he’d be able to see you, your focus too much on the barrels to your side to protect yourself from that angle. ‘How can you tell?’ Lonny asked as he stood by, Bud crouching down to take a closer look.

‘I can hear it, man,’ he said with a grunt of effort as he sat. ‘The pilot’s off. Everything.’

Lonny looked around to make sure no one else was down there with you, like they’d only just done it and were waiting to make sure they couldn’t turn it back on again. ‘Did they do it?’ he nearly stuttered as he turned back to him, Bud still focused entirely on the large machine in front of him.

‘I don’t know if they did it or not,’ he admitted as he started to flip switches and peek inside with his flashlight, nothing happening as a result, ‘but, we’re gunna fix it.’ 

‘They’re trying to break us down so that we start killing each other, Bud.’ Lonny’s voice was low but you still heard his words, he had the same train of thought as you, and you nearly stood up so you could at least stay with them a while until Bud spoke again.

‘You just need to relax, all right?’ he told him comfortingly, he wouldn’t let him worry about that just as much as you wouldn’t have if you’d stood up right now and went to him, and you decided you’d do just that when the speakers whined to life again.

‘I hope by now we’ve demonstrated that we aren’t blindly bluffing,’ the man on the other end told everyone, and you felt your legs lock up to the point of it being painful just at the sound of his voice. ‘This game’s a real one. Each of you are deep inside it. You can choose to follow our directives, or not. Either way, you’ll be giving us the results we’re looking for.’ You shut your eyes and shook your head, your hammer not nearly as comforting to you as Lonny’s arms had been earlier, you needed to stand, you needed to go to him-  ‘You are mostly free to do as you please. However, you must not dismantle any more cameras. And you must not remove the tag from your body. Next time we will not provide a countdown as we did Mr. Milch.’

You started to pant at the thought of Mike being dead somewhere upstairs because he’d caught on to what was hiding beneath your scars, that must’ve been the cause of the yelling, you needed to get up-

‘If you break either of these rules, your life will abruptly end.’ You felt like stone as you helplessly watched Lonny start to cry, the threat of himself being next strong enough to make Bud stand and try to calm him again, but there was little he could do at this point. ‘There are currently 76 of you left in the building. The time is now 12:47PM. By 2:47PM, in two hours, we want 30 of you dead, through whatever means necessary.’ He started to panic harder, you could help, if you could just open your mouth and tell them you were there you could help- ‘If 30 of you are not dead, we will end 60 of your lives through our own methods. Begin.’

He was inconsolable, his hand on his head as he started to pace over the stranger’s words, and the only reason you weren’t currently doing the same was because as long as you knew the two before you were safe then you couldn’t give a fuck about the people upstairs killing each other anymore. You tried to move but your legs refused to listen, this was your moment to show him how you felt for him and help keep him safe, but every single part of you was buzzing, your head spinning as you repeated those words to yourself over and over instead; you couldn’t get out, you were all trapped inside while tensions rose, and if 30 people didn’t die in two hours then double that would be murdered instead, which made your chances of survival even slimmer. 

If you didn’t help him and then find a way to keep him safe, while also finding it in yourself to kill to protect him, then you would both die, that was a certainty. He was a nobody compared to everyone upstairs, and even then their lives were all weighed the same, what chance did he have going up against someone who fought tooth and nail to get to where they were when he couldn’t even approach you for a donut?

‘L-Lonny…’ you gasped out, your voice lost under his sobs while Bud tried to console him again.

‘Hey, hey, Lonny, it’s gunna be okay…’ he was saying, but the moment he tried to hold him again he lashed out, the wrench given to him to cover Bud now wielded as a weapon to keep himself safe.

‘Get back off me!’ he screamed in his panic, Bud giving him his space as the desperation in his voice made your foot start to tingle as the numbness faded away. ‘Don’t look at me like that, man,’ he pleaded, Bud silent all the while, he wasn't about to upset him while he was panicking this hard. You wiggled your toes until you could move your ankle, your whole foot rolling and kickstarting the rest of you back into action, just a little longer now- 

You let out a shriek when the fire alarm then went off, the sound startling you so hard that the numbness completely faded away from the pure shock to your system. This was good, you were moving again, but the sound was too much for Lonny, your smile of relief falling when you saw the way he was holding his ears. His panic attacks were so much more severe than yours, his anxiety loud and jumpy and raw while yours made you quiet and frozen, but you wouldn’t be still this time when he yelled out loud enough to block out the ringing.

‘What is that?’ he demanded as his pacing worsened, your legs slowly shifted underneath you while you started to rise.

‘Lonny, calm down, man! It’s just a fire alarm!’ Bud tried to tell him but it was of no use, his yelling over the noise was only aiding his own frustration, and your knees shook as you pushed yourself onto them, you were almost standing.

‘No, it’s not! They’re trying to make us kill each other,’ he sobbed desperately, the wrench waved around when he motioned towards Bud and himself.

‘Easy, cowboy,’ Bud kept trying, his eyes following Lonny as his pacing got even worse, and you moved yourself onto your feet at long last. ‘Chill out, man! Hey, come here-’

‘Get back!’

He swung on instinct, a defensive maneuver in his uncontrollable panic, and you felt yourself go numb again right as you got ready to stand; the sound of the impact was louder than the alarm, a sickening crack that made your stomach churn, and Bud crashed into the fence separating them from you as he reached for his head. He groaned as he tried to stand up straight, Lonny staring at him in a deathly calm fear as he silently mouthed his friend’s name.

‘Wait a second,’ Bud mumbled, his shoulder slumped and your mouth going dry when you couldn’t confirm where he was hit with his back to you like this. ‘What just happened? Hold on, uh… wait, wait. Something is happening.’ His voice started to grow soft as he slid down the fence, and when he fell you figured out you were crying when you blinked and felt a cascade of tears roll down your cheeks.

How did this happen? This morning everything was so normal, it was almost boring to you in its simplicity; you’d bought your crush a donut and actually spoke to him, you were planning on inviting him out to lunch even because you’d finally hit it off, how did that turn into this so fast? You couldn’t understand it at all, your attempts to console Lonny now too late as he fell to his knees and weakly crawled over to his friend to apologize. It fell on deaf ears though, even you could tell from behind when Bud stopped moving, the kind man who’d given you your hammer and helped make sure you were safe now gone as Lonny sobbed over him.

The alarm finally quieted as you both kneeled there, neither knowing what to do until he finally looked at Bud’s face, his eyes so sorrowful until you saw the way they looked to the right; he was staring directly at you, your hiding really hadn’t been good enough, and his sorrow turned back into terror when he saw the look on your face. Instantly he was on his feet and that forced you to move as well, he was panicking again because he knew you, you were his friend and you’d seen what he’d done, and now it was your words that went unheard as you held your hammer a little tighter and hurried out of your hiding place.

‘Stop!’ he ordered you, your shoulders hunching and more tears falling at the tone of his voice, so unlike the way he’d spoken to you about his family with smudges of chocolate decorating the corners of his mouth. ‘Bud, he fell down and he hit his head,’ he explained miserably, but you’d seen it all, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t.

‘It wasn't your fault, Lonny,’ you tried to say but he ignored you, moving like a caged animal on the other side of the fence as he stared you down, he needed you to believe him, you were his friend and he needed you to believe all of it.

‘He tried to grab me,’ he moaned next, the two of you inching closer and closer to the opening until he was reaching for you, assuming you were only there to run. You held up your arms and stayed where you were, his own hand pulling back the moment he touched you like he’d been burned but he didn’t retreat, the wrench still in his other hand as he waited for you to do something. 

‘Lonny, Lonny, it’s okay, look, I know,’ you said quickly as you purposely let go of the hammer, his eyes watching it before you kicked it as hard as you could towards him as a sign of understanding. He glanced back at you before scrambling to pick it up, he had two weapons now, a hit from either one would be enough to make you reach the same fate as Bud, and when you finally got a glimpse of him you let out a gasp of misery. His head had been caved in, that’s what had happened, and Lonny waited for you to run again now that you’d seen what he’d done. You didn’t though, you wouldn’t, not when he needed you.

You made a show of getting back on your knees to tell him you wouldn’t run, your hands planted firmly on the cold cement to tell him you wouldn’t grab him, and he looked down at the hammer in his other hand before tossing it behind the machine to his left so it was completely out of reach. You nodded, agreeing with his decision, and he looked at his wrench next, his only weapon but still the thing he’d used to kill his friend, and he looked like he didn’t know what to do next.

‘It was an accident, it’s not your fault, I’m not afraid of you,’ you whispered to him, and he sniffed loudly before tossing the wrench to the ground. He fell to his knees and covered his face as he sobbed heavily, his cries echoing throughout the room along with his apologies to Bud for what he’d done. You waited until you couldn’t any longer, your numbness gone as you crawled over to him, and this time he didn’t bat you away when he peeked through his fingers and saw you coming. ‘I’ve been trying to talk to you for months,’ you told him, more tears spilling over the gaps and down his hands, ‘that’s why I keep bringing donuts to work, I’ve been waiting for you to come over so I could say hi to you; I wanted to do it sooner, but I’m a coward, that’s why I couldn’t be there for you earlier, I didn’t mean to watch I’m just a coward-’

He lowered his hands and wiped his nose with his sleeve, the tears still falling as he inched his way towards you. You were the one loudly crying now, if you’d just called out to him then this wouldn’t have happened, maybe you could’ve helped him, maybe if you’d just invited him to breakfast and skipped work entirely then you’d both be out there right now, and you didn’t realize you were saying it all out loud until he wrapped his arms around you. ‘He just grabbed me, I thought he was gunna hurt me,’ he whispered into your hair, and you finally held him back and sparked his desperation; he pulled you nearly onto his lap with a shuddering gasp, his hands clinging to you as you clung right back, the body of another dead friend staring up at you as all you could do was hold each other. ‘It was an accident, I’m not a bad person I’m not I’m not-’

‘I know, I know you’re not,’ you told him over and over until he was burying his face into your shoulder. You knew it must be hell up there but you couldn’t be bothered to care, all that mattered now was that you both got out of there together, you weren’t going to just sit by like a statue the next time his panic overtook him. ‘C’mere, let’s get out of here.’ You stood and took his hand so he’d do the same, and you cautiously headed back down the hallway with the wrench in hand again, neither of you stopping until he led you back to the break room and locked the door.

You were now technically locked into a room with a murderer, but you couldn’t see him like that, not him, not Lonny as he walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. He let it pool into his cupped hands before splashing it onto his face, he was covered with tears and sweat just like you were, and when he turned back to you all of the water ran down his chest and darkened his uniform. His bangs were soaked and dripping down his face, his eyes just barely showing through them, and you walked over to him and silently asked for permission to touch him.

He flinched at first, but eventually shut his eyes and let you while the wrench lay just within reach, and you were careful as you reached up and brushed his bangs to the side. You tucked them behind his ears and grabbed one of the towels for their dishes before wiping his face off next, just barely brushing the fabric against him so you wouldn’t upset him. It seemed to calm him even more, his shoulders relaxing and his body untensing just a little more with each gentle touch. When you were done you took his hand and got him to sit, it was still too warm in there, and you noticed the old fan tucked into the corner for those extra hot summer days. You made sure it still worked before turning it on, and he let out a sigh as the coolness hit him and allowed him a bit of a reprieve.

‘Here, your shirt’s all wet, it’ll help,’ you began as you reached for his uniform’s zipper, but his hand on your wrist got you to stop fast. ‘It’s okay, look, I’ll do the same, see?’ One-handed you undid your own buttons, your face flushing as you stripped off your very sweaty shirt and laid it over the back of your chair, your body instantly accepting the cold air and making you shiver in such a simple delight that it could’ve made you cry again. He looked you over quickly before doing the same, his blue shirt underneath hanging over his own chair while his coveralls bunched around his hips, his undershirt stained and damp from all the layers and the lack of AC. ‘We can rest here a moment, I don’t think any of them will come down here, so we can talk about what to do in the meantime.’

‘You think they’ll come for me?’ he asked nervously, already panicking over getting caught, but you shushed him softly and kept your hand hovering over his arm resting on the table between you just in case.

‘I don’t doubt everyone is in a similar state upstairs, no one will blame you for that, yours was an accident,’ you said truthfully, but he still looked nervously at the door all the same. ‘I need to find out what’s happening, we only have two hours, less now, and I don’t care if I… if I have to kill someone to do it, but I’ll make sure we get out of this, okay? And we can’t do that if we stay down here in the dark, leaving it up to them and chance might just seal our fate.’

‘If you go out there you’ll risk getting killed yourself, you know that, right?’ he said seriously as he leaned in, and his hand closed over yours and pushed it down onto his arm. ‘We can hide down here, I know all the tunnels, every twist and turn, I even know how to get into the vents; going back up there means that someone else’ll get hurt, that’s what they want.’

‘I know, that’s exactly what they want, and I doubt they’ll stop at 30,’ you muttered right on the edge of hopelessness, but his hand on yours made you suck in a deep breath and sit up straight. ‘But I didn’t spend the past 7 months of my life wanting to ask you out to get killed now, no fucking way.’

‘You… you wanted to ask me out?’ he questioned softly, his voice just barely above a whisper, almost like he was unsure he’d heard you correctly, and you nodded for just a second before he was leaning over the corner of the table and kissing you. Your eyes went wide as his hand held yours in place, the kiss chaste and a bit desperate but enough to make your heart pound all the same, and when he backed away his hair fell free and into his eyes again when his head dipped down to stare at you. ‘I’ve been… trying to get Bud to tell you for me since I first saw you, but he never would, he just kept saying I should do it myself.’ He looked away then, something sad after being so soft. ‘And now he can never…’

‘But you just did,’ you reminded him, your free hand reaching up to push aside his hair again, ‘and I can never forgive them for doing this to us.’

He nodded, his head was a bit clearer now even though he was still upset, the fan and the silence were certainly helping along with your words. ‘I’m still afraid, though…’ he whispered, and you shifted your chair closer to him so that you could pull him back into a hug. His skin was still warm as your chests pressed together, your hug instantly becoming something more intimate when you remembered that you were attempting to cool, but it only bonded you more when you felt his hand leave yours in order to place itself over your back.

‘I am, too, but if they want us to play a game together then I’ll fucking play until I can pay them back for our friends.’ You placed your forehead against his, your hand on his neck and feeling for his scar, and you shut your eyes tight when you felt the line stretching across his scalp, just as your own did. ‘I don’t know how yet, but we’re going to get out of here, and if this ends and I lose you…’

‘Then you’ll keep going, yeah? You said it yourself, we only just officially met this morning, I k- I hurt Bud, you shouldn’t have to give up just because of me,’ he whimpered lowly, another tremble making you open your eyes again, and you hushed him once more before wiping away the first tear that fell.

‘That’s why we need to both get out of here, so I can invite you to lunch and you can tell me everything we never talked about, don’t we?’ you insisted, and he nodded against you and placed his own hand on the back of your neck, the covered spaces starting to heat up again without the fan. ‘We can do this, you’re strong, and smart, and I’m a coward but I’ll help you in any way that I can, we don’t even need to join any of them, we just need to let them tear each other apart and up the count for us while we figure a way to get out, and… and if need be we can protect each other, I won’t let them get to you like that again.’

‘But what if they do? What if I get so upset that I hurt you this time?’ He didn’t want to even think about it, his breathing starting to quicken as he pictured you in Bud’s place, and you kissed him soft and slow until you were all he could feel.

‘Then I’ll know it’ll just be an accident, because you’re not a bad person, and, if I’m being honest, I think you might actually be better than most of the guys in this place,’ you said with a small laugh, and he thought about it a moment before laughing along with you, a small shred of relieved happiness in these hours of pain. ‘Come on, we need to see what they’re doing, do you think you could get us up to the security room so we could check the cameras?’

‘I think so, there’s a maintenance elevator that only Bud and I can use, it’s away from the others so they might think to use it last, they need a key to get it to run,’ he told you, said key stuck to the ring and line attached to his belt, and you nodded and kissed him again real quick.

‘That’s perfect, we can leave in a minute, you stay here and check for anything we can use to protect ourselves, I’m going to get my hammer back,’ you told him as you stood, but he didn’t let you leave at the thought of you seeing Bud again, or never coming back at all. ‘It’s okay, I won’t let anyone take you away from me,’ you promised him, and then he was letting you go and watching you hurry out. You didn’t get lost on the way back, the halls silent and telling you that no one else was around as you ended up at your destination without trouble. 

There was Bud, still slumped where he’d fallen, and you closed your eyes for a moment of silence before kneeling down and closing his for him. You were just about to stand when you saw his own set of keys, and you unclipped them and attached them to your own belt loop before you heard a sound. You stilled, your eyes looking every which way for a sign of movement, but you saw nothing stand out in the maze. You narrowed your eyes and went back to getting your hammer, he’d really thrown it far to the point where you had to lay down and reach under the machine for it, and when you pulled back your hand it was covered in years worth of dust and webs.

You shivered and brushed it all off without a fuss, there were worse things to be afraid of down here now, and you hurried all the way back to Lonny with your own weapon in hand and a fire in your heart; you were going to get out of here, if you had to fight your way through this entire building to make sure no one hurt him again, then by god were you going to rain down hell on all who stood in your way, and when you returned to him and saw him standing there with his coveralls tied around his waist and his wrench in his hand you knew that he was ready to do the same for you.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 1

Masterlist |-| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: When Bernard DeMarco is forced to find ATS Commander Susie Lamb, his expectations are tainted by her less-than-savoury reputation. However, the more time he spends with her, the more he begins to suspect she's been misjudged by the people of Thorpe Abbotts.

Warnings: Language, drinking, smoking

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd

Bernard DeMarco stared down at the steadily cooling coffee in his hand, the warmth of the mug heating his palms, which had been chilled to the bone even through his gloves on the long-haul flight over from Greenland. Almost ten hours in the sky, staring out at nothing but rolling clouds and the faint grey line of the horizon. Even with Cleven chatting at his side and Meatball nudging the back of his seat, it had been difficult to stay alert for so long, and now he found himself in dear want of a rest.

Instead, he was here, sitting around a long table in the mess hall when he could've been in bed, listening to his friends' chatter, his dog resting its snout against his knee. Benny knew how to pretend he wasn't feeling the wear - to put on a grin and laugh along to everyone's jokes as if he were still awake and raring to go, when the thing he wanted more than anything was a chance to shed the uniform he'd been wearing all day and just sit down somewhere quiet.

The door to the mess hall swung open and the Colonel wandered in, peering with a frown at the piece of paper in his hand, a typed list he couldn't make out stamped upon it. "Colonel," Egan nodded, tilting an imaginary cap in greeting. Hugh stopped at the end of the table, surveying the faces of the group that had assembled.

"Afternoon fellas. I got a supply list I need running up to the ATS - just some stuff we're gonna need brought in for the next run. Uh... DeMarco? D'you mind?"

DeMarco's brow furrowed in confusion, glancing around at the others to check if anyone else had noticed how unorthodox this order was. "Sir? All due respect, but ain't that a job for a runner or somethin'?"

"Usually, but... I'd like someone a little more experienced."

At the opposite end of the table, a playful grin had begun making its way across Curt's face. "Oh-ho, he's gotta talk to Commander Lamb, don't he?"

Bucky had begun to smirk to himself, lifting a hand over his mouth to make it less obvious. Benny figured he must've looked somewhere between dumbstruck and panicked by the way Hugh had begun to speak in a soothing, gentle tone. "Look, the Commander's just a little difficult. We send the runners up there, she gets 'em all turned around, and they don't get the information we need. I'm lookin' for a firm hand, is all. Besides, you can give the dog a walk."

He was thoroughly unsatisfied with this justification for making him walk halfway across the airfield, but it was becoming clearer by the minute that it wasn't something he could get out of. With a disgruntled sigh, he rose to his feet, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he grabbed Meatball's leash, the dog already at his heels, tail wagging and ready to go, far more chipper than his owner. DeMarco grabbed the list from the Colonel without so much as glancing at its contents, heading towards the mess hall doors to the sound of Biddick's chuckling.

The sun hung high in the sky, a beacon in a sea of blue, the weather so blissfully perfect that it actually seemed to worsen his mood more than anything. He was usually a fun guy, everyone thought so, but today he was just too goddamn tired. Meatball was having the time of his life, drinking from every puddle and pissing against every tree they passed, the constant stopping only succeeding in doubling the time their journey took. By the time he reached the ATS garages, DeMarco was confident he never wanted to see Hugh's stupid list - or whoever this Commander Lamb was - ever again.

The garages were a bustle of activity, trucks and motorbikes pulling in and out all over the place, Air Force and ATS alike hauling crates of all kinds of ammunition, food supplies, and whatever else the air base could possibly require. Standing in the doorway of the nearest building was a woman - easy on the eyes, orange-haired, staring down at a clipboard in her hand as she ticked off whatever the men nearby were carrying inside.

"Uh- ma'am?" He called, tugging on Meatball's lead as they approached. The woman seemed to see the dog before she did DeMarco, a pleasant smile creasing her cheeks as she looked up at him.

"Yes... Captain?" She asked, peering at the insignia on his jacket for confirmation.

"I gotta supply list from Colonel Hugh to pass onto a Commander Lamb?"

The woman raised a brow as if to say 'You sure about that?', but she turned nevertheless, yelling over her shoulder into the huge supply hangar behind her. "Susie!"

Peering past the woman, DeMarco watched as a figure approached from inside, initially obscured by the shadow of a huge supply truck, but when she stepped into the light it gave him pause. Her hair fell unpinned halfway down her back, brown waves shining red in the sunlight. She wore olive slacks instead of the standard-issue uniform skirt, and a leather bomber jacket with 'S. Lamb' printed on the breast like the ones he'd seen some of the pilots wear. She hardly looked like she was supposed to be on duty at all, but she marched up to them all the same, taking the clipboard from the other woman and looking it over.

"Charlotte, go help Fisher - she's got some stuff to go to Sergeant Bevan on the hardstand," She ordered, and the woman scurried away inside. Once the two of them were alone, Susie stared back at him for a long moment, brow raised as she waited for him to speak. "...So?"

Suddenly DeMarco was beginning to understand what the others had meant. Her accent was harsh, less refined than the other English workers he'd met since his arrival, and she didn't exactly look pleased to see him. Frankly, she had a face that suggested she was never glad to see anyone.

"Got a list from Colonel Hugh - requests for ammo supplies," He stated, holding it up to her. "We need-"

"Ah-" Lamb raised a hand to stop him. "If you're gonna talk, you've gotta walk with me."

She began to walk before he had a chance to respond. "Well alright then," He muttered under his breath, beginning to trail after her, tugging at Meatball's lead so that he would follow along. "Five hundred AN-M30s, four hundred AN-M64s, six hundred USAAF five hundred pound-ers..." DeMarco rattled off Hugh's list, squinting to read the paper as it shook in his hand against the breeze. Ahead of him, Susie was peering into the backs of the row of trucks that had just arrived, scribbling away on her clipboard. He wasn't entirely sure she was listening.

He stopped talking just before they reached the end of the row, having to tug Meatball along as he got distracted by the crates of food being brought in. Lamb ticked something off in her notes before turning on her heel to look at him. "That everything?"

"Yeah, that's it," Benny confirmed, sliding the list back into his pocket. She raised her brow again in that inquisitive way she did. It was already getting annoying.

"I'm not gonna remember all that, am I? Gimme the list," She huffed, holding out her hand.

"Then why did you have me read it all out?" He grumbled, fishing out the wad of paper and handing it over.

"I didn't ask you to do that. I just said if you were gonna, you'd have to follow me," Thinking it over, he realised she was right. He hated that. "But, yunno. Most of the runners Hugh sends up here would've already shat themselves and run off by now, so good job."

DeMarco bristled, squaring his shoulders. "I'm not a runner, I'm a Captain."

Susie was looking down at the list, but she peered back up at him with a wonky grin. "Jesus, what'd you do to get stuck with the 'Susie Lamb punishment', eh? Did your dog take a shit on the Colonel's desk or summat?"

He frowned, her self-awareness almost alarming. She clearly knew what the others said about her, but she simply didn't care - in all honesty, there was something he admired in that.

"I think the Colonel just wanted someone who wouldn't get scared off," He confessed.

She snorted. "Maybe he should try hiring runners who don't piss themselves whenever a woman frowns at 'em." For a moment the shell almost seemed cracked, a not-so-scary Susie peeking out. But then a loud clatter sounded across the yard, and DeMarco turned to see one of the deliverymen scrounging to pick up the machine gun rounds that had scattered across the tarmac when he accidentally dropped a crate. "Oi!" Susie yelled, beginning to storm off, raising a hand in what could've either been a wave goodbye or a dismissal.

Meatball tried to nip at her heels as she marched towards the deliveryman, tugging on his leash with such force that DeMarco was almost forced to follow, but he managed to stand his ground. He couldn't make out what Susie was saying at such a distance, but by the way the colour drained from the poor man's face, it was nothing good. Letting out a chuckle, he counted himself lucky that he had yet to meet Commander Lamb at her most formidable.

After all, she did have access to all the bombs.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun had barely risen by the time the pilots stepped onto the runway, the airfield bursting into a bustle of activity as the last planes were prepped, and the flight crews readied themselves to board. DeMarco had managed a decent half night's sleep, and was at least in a better mood than he had been the previous afternoon. Although, the powdered eggs they'd served up for breakfast hadn't helped.

There were a dozen things to worry about concerning the flight ahead, but in all honesty he was mainly concerned about what he was going to do with Meatball. It seemed not to have occurred to him when he first adopted the stray that he couldn't bring him on missions, and the prospect of leaving him all alone damn near broke his heart.

His train of thought was severed by the roar of engines as a supply truck rolled up to 'Our Baby' just along the runway to deliver the last of the spare machine gun rounds. A familiar flicker of red caught the light as Susie Lamb craned her head out of the driver's seat window, barking to one of the ground crewmen as he scurried to unload the cargo. An idea sparked in DeMarco's mind, and he could already see Curt shooting him a confounded look as he bounded up to the vehicle.

Susie was just reaching for a lighter, an unlit cigarette poised between her lips, as he reached her window, plastering on the best friendly smile that he could muster. She hadn't heard him approach over the hum of the engine, and the shock of the face suddenly at her side made the cigarette tumble from her mouth, falling into the footwell. "Jesus fucking Christ," She hissed, voice thick with irritation. "Can I help you?"

"I don't have anyone to watch Meatball while I'm up," Benny explained, and she peered out of the window at the dog, who was staring slack-jawed up at her, wagging its tail. "I was wondering if I could trouble you for the favour?"

There was that eyebrow again. She had a way of drawing out those painful silences that just made him want to squirm, immediately regretting whatever he'd asked. Perhaps Hugh's runners had had a point.

"You want me to babysit your dog?"

Suddenly the suggestion felt ridiculous. "Well, I just-"

"Eh, fuck it," Sticking her foot out, Susie kicked open the passenger side door. "Chuck him in."

The moment DeMarco moved to unclip Meatball's leash, it was as if he knew exactly where he was going, claws skittering against the tarmac as he bounded around to the other side of the truck, leaping unprompted up into the seat, tail wagging wildly. It was almost offensive, how pleased the mutt was to be rid of him. "Alright, alright," Benny muttered, closing the door behind him. "Thanks for this. Seriously."

"It's nothing - he already seems to prefer me, anyway."

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat- loudly. "Name's DeMarco, by the way. Bernard DeMarco."

Susie was already tugging at the handbrake, the engine roaring to life once more. "Yeah, I know," She nodded, an almost-smile tugging at her lips, pulling away before he could respond as Meatball's head lolled happily out of the window.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The supply depot was almost empty by the time the pilots returned, the rumble of DeMarco's freshly commandeered jeep splitting the silence as he rolled to a stop, looking around for some sign of his dog. "Susie?" He called as he clambered out, peering into each hangar as he passed, unable to locate any signs of life. The ATS women seemed to have all taken the afternoon - that or they were all busy delivering supplies to the mechanics.

"Susie?"

A familiar bark pierced the air, and he followed it around to the back of one of the buildings. A bench ran along the back wall of the hangar, basking in the afternoon sunlight, and there she sat, a book open in her lap, halfway through eating a sandwich. Her hair was pulled back messily into a bun, stray auburn curls sticking out at random angles, and Meatball lay stretched out at her feet, occasionally jumping up to chase after a tiny yellow butterfly.

"Ah. You're alive then," Susie stated plainly, squinting in the sun as she looked up at him.

DeMarco shrugged. "Just about."

"That's good. Didn't know what I was gonna do with him otherwise," She gestured to Meatball using her sandwich, chuckling as the dog snapped his jaws at a passing insect. "... You ok?"

"Do I not look it?" He took at seat at the opposite end of the bench, a deliberate gap left between them. Benny didn't exactly want to hang around; he was just tired, and he appreciated the opportunity to sit on something that wasn't moving.

"There's a cut on your cheek," She pointed out, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she talked around her food. Raising a hand to his face, DeMarco's fingertips came away red. He hadn't even noticed the pain.

"Occupational hazard... did you feed him?"

"Gave him a sandwich."

"You can't feed a dog a sandwich!" DeMarco exclaimed, and Susie shrugged, nonchalant in a way that annoyed him.

"Well, you're the one who made it my problem! Didn't even ask if I knew what to feed the damn thing!"

"Well, I just assumed you were a human being and had some inclination that dogs might eat dog food. Forgive me."

Susie shot him a glare. "Having a dog isn't a prerequisite to being alive, mate. D'you think I've got dog food sitting around? I have an actual job that I have to do, it gets in the way a bit."

He turned sideways on the bench to look at her properly. "Y'know, I thought people didn't like you because you're mean. But it's really because you don't give a shit about anything except yourself, isn't it?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He wasn't that kind of person - he didn't say those kinds of things to people. He didn't want Susie to think that he did. But she seemed entirely unphased, taking another bite of her sandwich with so little a reaction he almost doubted ever having spoken at all. She chewed and swallowed painfully slowly, and he began to realise she was prolonging the silence on purpose, giving him time to stew on his own words. DeMarco felt his face begin to heat up.

"You can take the dog back now," She said after a while, turning to the next page of her book.

"Susie, I'm sorry," He blurted. She looked at him then, and for a moment he swore he saw surprise in her expression. "I shouldn't've said that."

"Heard worse. Though, most people actually mean it," Susie shrugged. "And I do give a shit about other people. It just... takes a minute."

Nodding slowly, he let out a whistle, and Meatball bounded over, tail wagging as he dutifully allowed him to reattach his leash. DeMarco wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't know this woman, not yet, but he was getting the distinct impression that the others had been wrong about her. As he stood up, running a hand across his chin, he took a deep breath. "Hey. Me and the fellas are gonna get drinks tonight, to celebrate the mission. You should come."

The corners of her lips turned up in a smirk. "Yeah. I mean, I was going anyway - but I'll be there."

"Alright," Benny nodded, smiling involuntarily. "I'll buy you a beer. Call it payment - for the babysitting."

"Well if I'm getting paid I definitely won't feed him sandwiches next time," Susie joked. He let out a laugh, suddenly realising that, yes. There would be a next time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If there was one thing Thorpe Abbotts would have benefitted from, it was an additional pub. The village had not been prepared for the sudden influx of pilots and crew and the hundreds of other workers that came with them, so a night in the pub had become a sure recipe for claustrophobia and havoc. Meatball was curled up at DeMarco's feet, half sitting on him for lack of space beneath the table. A pile of empty pint glasses was growing in the centre of the table, laughter growing louder with each passing drink as they grew steadily more intoxicated - drunk on victory more than they were alcohol.

Susie stood at the bar with a small group of ATS girls, beer in hand, listening and chuckling along to their stories of workplace mishaps and awkward encounters with the men they had to work with. Even if every single other person at Thorpe Abbotts thought poorly of her, the women under Susie's command never would. She was a protector - a personification of a rougher class of women, utterly unafraid to throw a punch where the others shied away. In Norfolk, it was uncommon to find an English girl working in a job like this who hadn't been raised in privilege - middle-class families in country cottages, who had never had reason to find an occupation until war broke out. None of them quite understood why Susie Lamb had come all this way, her Manchester accent sticking out like a sore thumb - but they were glad she had.

"-And then I told him, 'Mate, if you're not gone in five minutes, I'll kick your balls so far up your throat you won't need breakfast'," Susie explained, the women around her erupting into laughter as she wiped a thin line of beer foam away from her top lip.

Charlotte chuckled, the red-haired Subaltern finishing off a half-pint of cider as she reached into her pocket for a cigarette. "The pool table's freed up - we should get in there before the Yanks get a chance."

Susie nodded in firm agreement, and was about to follow the other women towards the far corner of the pub when a sudden mass at her feet almost tripped her, beer sloshing over the rim of her glass and landing on Meatball's head as he let out a bewildered yelp. Letting out a tsk as she sucked her teeth, she crouched down beside the dog, grabbing for a napkin as she dabbed at his fur. "You've gotta watch yourself, lad," She scolded gently, soft voice barely audible in the pub's din. "Can't go wonderin', your dad'll worry."

Tilting his damp head up at her, Meatball let out a whine, his tail beginning to wag as he seemed to recognise her face. "Hey, Meatball, quit runnin' off," A familiar voice called across the crowd. Giving the dog an affectionate scratch below its chin, Susie rose to her feet, lifting a hand to beckon DeMarco over. "Oh, hey. Well, at least he found a familiar face in this damn place," He huffed.

"Well, he did get covered in beer for his trouble, not sure he'll bother again," She shrugged, batting Meatball away as he tried to stick his nose up under the hem of her skirt.

With a sudden, sinking feeling, DeMarco realised he'd forgotten to buy her the drink he'd promised. Rummaging in his pockets, he handed over a few coins to cover the cost. It wasn't the same. "Sorry, I, uh... I forgot you were coming," He admitted, red tinting his cheeks in shame.

"No worries - I noticed you were far too busy losing at darts," Susie teased, shoving the money into her pocket.

"Hey, now, I wouldn't call it losing," Shaking his head, he moved closer to where she stood at the bar, stepping out of the way of the crowds.

"Really? Failing, then?"

DeMarco batted a hand in dismissal, a smile curling his lips. "Oh, well, if you're so good at darts-"

"I am actually," Susie shrugged.

"Of course you are. You're gonna say you Brits are all good at playing darts - just like you're all good at making tea and... I dunno, sheep herding?"

She let out a laugh, teeth peeking through her grin. He liked her smile. There was a rosy pink in her cheeks, and he couldn't tell if it was the warmth of the pub or the alcohol or something else, but it suited her.

Susie nodded as she took another sip of her drink. "Aw, you got me. You've found my secret hobby - I do love to herd sheep. Yes."

Benny smiled warmly, leaning one elbow up against the bar as he watched her. A curl had slipped loose from behind her ear, and in the warm light of the room, it shone a flaming red. From across the room, a few of the ATS women let out a cheer, the orange-haired woman he'd met at the supply depot grinning as she passed her pool cue to the next woman. He cleared his throat. "Oh, by the way, could I talk to, uh - Charlotte? Is it?"

Her smile vanished. A wave of panic filled him. Susie began to nod bitterly, gnawing at the inside of her lip. There was a look in her eye, like she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it finally had.

"Are you kidding me? ...Yeah. Yunno what? Fuck you, DeMarco."

“What? I don’t-”

“No, no. I get it. You thought being nice to me would get you an in with the pretty ATS girls - you’re not the first one who’s tried it,” Tilting her head, she upturned the rest of her beer, swallowing it in a single gulp. “Charlotte’s engaged, by the way. I’m sure you can try your luck somewhere else.”

"Susie, I didn't-"

"Hey Benny!" Egan's voice rang out from over by the dartboard. "C'mon, it's your turn!"

"Yeah, Benny, it's your turn," Susie repeated, her words laced with venom, practically spitting his own name back at him. "Although, two losses in one night might be a bit rough, eh?"

His mouth gaped open and shut for a moment like a dying fish, and before he could find a word to say she had scoffed, rolling her eyes as she pushed away from the bar, diving into the crowd as she fought to put distance between them. Meatball had almost tried to follow her before the wall of people separated them, and he let out a defeated whimper, returning to his owner, tail between his legs.

Charlotte was about to bend over to take her next shot when she felt a hand pressed against her shoulder. Turning her head, she saw Susie, cheeks flushed, a frown furrowing her brow. "Can I bum a cig? I'm heading off," She whispered.

"Yeah, sure," The subaltern nodded, holding out the crumpled box she carried with her. "You ok?"

"All good. Thanks," She nodded, propping a cigarette between her lips as she made for the door. The night air hit her face with such chilling force that it almost hurt, a cloud forming as she sighed, plucking a lighter from her pocket, the cigarette embers releasing a comforting heat.

The walk back to barracks was a long one, a seemingly endless row of identical Nissen huts stretching out before her by the time Susie reached the airfield, exhaling one puff of smoke after another. There was always too much stewing in her mind - a solid wall of white noise, her thoughts stirring together like ingredients to the most repugnant soup ever concocted. It was difficult to even pluck out a single emotion amongst all that hubbub.

I hate you DeMarco, but I like your dog, but you're just like everyone else, except if you're not, except if I was wrong.

The lights in her hut turned on with a click, the room filling itself with a yellow glow, the faint hum of lightbulbs audible in the silence. Everyone else was out - dress uniforms taken off their hangers, the smell of freshly applied perfume still lingering in the air. Susie had stomped her cigarette out on the damp grass outside, the smell of smoke permeating her clothes. She raised her hands to cover her face, agonised groan muffled by the sweaty skin of her palms as she collapsed backwards onto her bed, the springs creaking noisily.

Staring at the ceiling didn't solve anything - not the anger in her chest, nor the lingering feeling in her gut that she'd gotten something badly wrong. Letting her head loll to the side, Susie stared at the picture frame propped up on her nightstand, the photo's corners battered and bent beneath the layer of glass that encased it. Her mother, rounded and warm, a tiny, swaddled baby in her arms. Her father, sturdy and dependable, holding a spindly, blond-headed toddler against his hip. And a row of six little children, flashing the same gap-toothed smiles, all dressed in their nicest clothes, which never quite seemed to fit properly.

She could see her own face - a tiny, chubby, three-year-old face that wasn't really her own anymore, curls erupting like a lion's mane around her head. They were all squinting in the sun, lined up outside the only house she'd ever called her own. She could feel their eyes on her - her own most of all. Reaching out, Susie caught the top of the frame with her finger, flipping it over, out of sight, as if covering their faces would somehow make her feel less judged.

"Oh, piss off, you lot."

[pintsizemama]

Dickens

Day 8

Summary: You and Draco take your son to the local Dickens Christmas Festival.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x You, Draco Malfoy x Female Reader (American)

Fandom: Harry Potter AU (no magic)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, talk of sex/breeding

Word Count: 799

A/N: This is my first time writing for Draco. I have some ideas for him. Let me know if you want more Draco!

Day 7 Day 9 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“It’s so beautiful, Mummy,” Scorpius said in awe. You had just arrived at the town’s Christmas festival. It was Dickens themed, and you felt like you had stepped back in time. Everywhere you looked people were dressed like they had stepped out of Victorian London.

“It’s more English here than in England,” Draco chuckled wryly. This was the first time you had brought your husband and son back to your hometown in America. You met Draco while traveling abroad, fell in love, and stayed in England to be with him. You missed your extended family and wanted to show Draco and Scorpius where you had grown up, so Draco suggested spending Christmas there.

“I’ve always loved this festival,” you told him. “It’s so magical. And you know how much I love all things English.”

“Especially the men,” Draco replied, puffing out his chest slightly. You laughed merrily.

“Yes,” you agreed. “I am lucky enough to live with the two most handsome men in all of England!” Draco smiled and kissed you softly on the lips. He was a cold, calculating man to the rest of the world, but for you and Scorpius he was doting and loving.

“Mummy, can I please have some of that!” Scorpius pleaded, pointing to the booth with hot chocolate.

“Yes, my darling boy,” you said immediately. “That is the perfect way to warm up.” The three of you got in line and you looked around to see what else was near by. “I believe Santa is here somewhere. We’ll have to see if we can find him.”

“Yes!” Scorpius agreed enthusiastically. A few minutes later the three of you had piping hot chocolate. You walked along the booths looking at all the crafts and gifts for sale. When you spent just a little longer than normal looking at a gorgeous pair of earrings Draco insisted on buying them. The man had more money than God and spoiled you rotten.

You turned down the next street and saw a massive kid area set up. There were games and stalls selling junk food, face painting, and a massive inflatable slide.

“Mummy! Daddy!” Scorpius squealed and jumped up and down as he pointed towards the slide.

“Go on, baby,” you encouraged him. “Just remember to take your shoes off!”

“Why on Earth would he take his shoes off?” Draco asked.

“It’s just the policy with inflatables,” you explained. “Bouncy houses and slides. Shoes can damage them.”

“Scorpius, come back here!” Draco called out, but the little boy was already shoeless and climbing the stairs. “That thing is filthy. God knows what diseases he’ll pick up on it.” His face was creased in disgust.

“It’s fine, Draco,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Don’t be such a snob. I used to go on these things all the time, and I turned out fine.”

“Debatable,” Draco teased with a straight face. You playfully smacked his chest. Scorpius had made it to the top and screamed with joy the whole way down. He jumped off and ran over to you, his face beaming with happiness.

“Can I go again?” He asked breathlessly. Draco looked into the blissful eyes of his son, and his face softened.

“Of course,” Draco answered. “You can go on as many times as you want until we tell you it’s time to stop.”

“Really?” Scorpius bounced up and down with excitement.

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “Now get back up there.” Scorpius ran off to slide to his heart’s content. You were so proud of your husband. His upbringing had been privileged, but strict. He had very little fun as a child. It was wonderful to see him break from tradition and allow Scorpius to be a child.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” You said and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I believe you did this morning after I woke you up with my head between your—” you clapped your hand over his mouth and cut him off.

“Not around the kids,” you whispered. Draco chuckled against your hand and you removed it.

“Right,” he said. “I’ll just wait until we are back at your parent’s house. I’m sure Grandma would love to bake some cookies with Scorpius so I can spend an hour ravaging my wife.”

“You better not word it that way to my mother!” You gasped. He shrugged.

“Your mother adores me, and she wants more grandchildren,” Draco said simply. “She wouldn’t object to me breeding the fuck out of you all week long.” You felt your face warm and panties dampen at his filthy words.

“Mr. Malfoy, behave,” you said quietly. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulled you in close to his side and nipped your ear.

“Never,” he whispered gruffly.

Day 9

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[kelcemenow]

Touchdown - Chapter 16.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1776

Warnings Nothing, a teeny bit fluffy and a teeny bit angsty.

CHAPTER 15.

CHAPTER 16.

You took one final look at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t expecting to be doing any work whilst you were in Missouri so you had to come up with an outfit with what you had brought. Luckily, you had a pair of skinny jeans and a blazer.

“I don’t have a blouse or a shirt that looks right though!” You whined.

“Hold on, baby.”

Travis made his way to his closet before emerging with a plain white t-shirt. You narrowed your eyes when you took it from him.

“Tuck it in, it’ll be smart casual, but cool.”

You looked at him with apprehension before throwing it over your head and pushing the fabric under the waistband over your jeans. It was a little big for you but when you stepped back to view yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection.

“Your Mom is right; you are a fashionista.”

Travis shot you a confused look.

“What? I listened to a bit of your podcast. I had to do my research on you.”

Travis let out a laugh before embracing you from behind, his face lowered so it was pressed to yours, “You look awesome, baby. You wanna ride with me to Arrowhead?”

You craned your neck to kiss his cheek, “No, it’s okay. I should probably get a cab; I can’t run the risk anyone suspecting anything. Thank you though.”

“No sweat.” He moved to the bed to pick up his bag, “I’ve reminded the guys, well, the ones that know. It’ll be fine, baby.”

You turned around and smiled, “I know. I’m looking forward to watching you practice. You’d better put on a good show for me.” You winked.

“I always do.”

______________________________________________________________

The Chiefs’ stadium was an impressive size with a vast car park surrounding it. It was relatively empty today, aside from a couple of dozen or so vehicles parked right by the front door.

“Y/N? Hi.”

A voice echoed from the entrance. As you turned your head to follow the sound, your eyes landed on a blonde woman holding some files. Her hair was long and straight, with one side pinned back and she was dressed in a red blouse and black trousers. She seemed friendly and she shook your hand as you approached her.

“It’s so nice to have you here.”

“Thank you, Carrie.”

“Come on, I’ll take you inside, the team are just starting.”

You followed her inside the building, numerous doors and corridors passing you as the sounds of men shouting grew louder in your ear. As you emerged onto the field, your eyes widened.

“Wow, this is huge!”

“Yeah, it’s slightly bigger than your football fields back in the UK. But I think we have bigger stadiums in general.”

Carrie showed you to some seats at the side-lines and gave you a brief rundown of a standard practice session, handing you your visitors badge and some press information in a file.

“You can take as many pictures now as you want. Players won’t tend to give any interviews here but you may get to speak to Andy Reid if you ask nicely. I’ll be sticking around for a bit so feel free to ask me anything.”

“That’s great, thank you for this Carrie.” You grabbed your phone from your bag and began snapping, “I’m still quite new to this.”

She waved her hand, “Oh, don’t worry about it, we all start somewhere.”

You stood up and took a couple of steps to get closer to the action. As you did, Travis ran past you, almost knocking you over. You jumped back, whilst your gaze followed him.

“Oh, watch out! They don’t care where anyone is, they’ll just run right into you. Travis is pretty cool though, there’s worse people to be knocked over by.” She wiggled her eyebrows, “But you’ll know that, right?”

Your mouth dropped open slightly. “Sorry?”

“US Weekly? I saw you guys got pretty close after the game at Wembley?”

You could feel your cheeks burning, “Oh no, we just chatted a bit. You know what paparazzi can be like, they made something out of nothing.”

One of her perfectly groomed eyebrows was raised high, “So, you’re telling me that there’s an article in US Weekly of you two cosying up and then magically a couple of weeks later, you just happen to be in Kansas City? You’re telling me that that’s all just a massive coincidence?”

You blinked and cleared your throat, “Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?”

She narrowed her eyes a little, “Sure.”

You turned back to face the field, hiding any further redness across your cheeks. Carrie’s comment made you avoid all further eye contact with Travis and you made a mental note to yourself to keep any topics of conversation away from him.

“Although, I must say, fans are suspecting that you two are a couple?” She questioned from behind you, “But if you say there’s nothing in the rumours, I might ask him out myself. He is absolutely gorgeous.”

You felt a knot of jealousy form in the pit of your stomach as you continued to take photos of the practice, focusing mainly on Patrick, who noticed and gave you a wave.

“I’ve heard he’s really romantic. He brought his ex-girlfriend to one of our Chiefs thanksgiving parties and man, he was all over her. Couldn’t keep his hands off her, bringing her champagne, opening doors for her. She was stunning, honestly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The knot tightened and a burning sensation rose in your throat. You weren’t sure if she was genuinely making conversation, or trying to get a reaction from you. Your hands began to shake and your palms were becoming clammy. Taking a deep breath, you turned around to face Carrie.

She leaned forward and whispered, “I think he’d be amazing in bed.”

Your eyes widened, “I’m sorry Carrie, but I think this discussion is highly unprofessional.”

“I’m sensing some jealousy.” She paused before her mouth twisted, “I was right, wasn’t I?”

You stared forward, unsure of what to say, your chest rising and falling with your panicked breathing, “No, it’s not like that.”

Carrie jumped up from her seat and stood next to you, looking at Travis, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. We wouldn’t want you to lose your job now, would we? Over a silly little crush? Besides, you live so far away, it wouldn’t really work. I’ll not say anything.”

You looked at her and forced a smile, “No, you’re right. Thank you.” You said plainly.

Your blood felt like it was boiling in your chest, rising up to your ears. You took a deep breath and began to walk to another area of the field for another angle. Your feet hit the grass with loud thuds. You could feel a lump forming in your throat but you swallowed it down to continue with your task. Andy Reid remembered you from Wembley and gladly gave you a brief interview detailing how practice was going so far. You smiled kindly and he posed for photograph with you for a social media post you were putting together.

Practice wrapped up soon after so you waited near the locker rooms in the hopes of catching Travis. He pointed his finger towards you and tipped his head in confusion when he saw you.

“Oh hey? Y/N, is it?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

He smiled at you, “What’s up?”

You took his hands in yours and pulled him around the corner, making sure no one saw you, “That Carrie girl, she said some things that have shaken me up if I’m honest.”

He lowered his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“She…kept bugging me. Asking me if we were together so I played dumb but then she started talking about how hot you are and wondering if you were good in bed.”

“You told her yes, right?”

“Travis, I’m being serious. I couldn’t keep my face straight…she knows. And now I’m worried she’s going to tell someone.”

“Baby-“

“Oh! And that’s not it. I’m almost certain she has a thing for you. She basically told me that this…” You moved your finger between the two of you, “…is nothing but a silly crush and it won’t last.”

Travis looked at you, your breathing erratic and your forehead creased in worry, “Baby.” He repeated, “Stop. You have nothing to worry about. She’s no one important. It’s just you and me, okay?”

You stared up into his eyes, willing the tears not to pour down your face, “God, I swear I’m not crazy.”

“Shh, shh it’s okay.” He held your face with his hands, “Baby…listen to me. It’s all going to be fine.”

You relaxed instantly into his touch, your breathing returning to normal. He kissed your forehead, an action which you had grown to love. He made you feel safe, protected and cared for.

“Hey, I’m finished here now, let’s quickly get you to the car and we can get outta here?”

You nodded silently and followed him through the building. You hung onto his arm as he paced through the corridors and out of a side door leading to the car park. He opened the car door for you and you slid onto the seat, holding your bag on your knees. The car was silent as Travis got into the car and drove out onto the highway.

After a moment of quiet, you fidgeted with the handle on your handbag, “I’m sorry about all of this. I really am. You don’t deserve all of this stress.”

Travis quickly turned his head back and forth between you and the road, “Y/N, it’s no stress on me. I just want to make sure you’re alright.” He reached out and took your hand in his, rubbing circles into your skin. “Listen, I don’t know what you wanted to do tonight but me and Jason need to record our podcast and afterwards I was wondering if you wanted to get in on the video chat? I really want him to meet you.”

He turned to you with a nervous expression, almost pleading. You knew how much Travis’ family meant to him so for him to want to introduce you to his brother was a huge step. Your stomach fluttered with excitement.

“Are you sure?”

“Baby, I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. But I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with?”

You pressed your lips into a smile, “You are so sweet.”

He looked at the road ahead, smiling, “Is that a yes?”

You placed your hand on his thigh, “Yes, of course!”

______________________________________________________________

Oooohhh, somethings afoot! This series will be wrapped up soon and then I've got some more ideas and some requests to go through! If you want to be added to my Touchdown taglist or my standard taglist just let me know!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 33 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance

✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧

“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”

“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.

“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”

“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.

“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”

“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.

“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”

“It's fine…”

“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.

“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”

“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy. 

James was just impossible not to like.

“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.

March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.

Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.

Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.

“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”

“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”

“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.

“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”

“I need you to act in the play.”

I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.

“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”

“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”

“And you want me to step in.”

“Yeah!”

“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”

“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”

“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”

I sighed, resigned.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”

Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.

When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.

I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.

I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.

“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.

“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”

“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.

“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.

“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.

“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”

“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.

“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”

“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”

I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.

“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”

“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.

“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.

“Cliff, it's not that simple…”

"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.

"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.

"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"

"Cliff, what are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"

In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.

"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.

"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"

"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.

"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.

"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.

"What?"

"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."

"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.

Actually, that I didn't want to.

He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.

"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

[weirdmarioenemies]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

We have a frightening tale for you today... reader be scare, you're in to beware! Please, come in. Sit in the Chilling Chair at our Terrible Table in our Devious Dining Room. Now, I hope you're hungry, because we've made plenty of PETRIFYING PASTA! Fufufu... let's begin.

It was looking to be a very special Halloween. This particular year, the holiday had fallen on Friday the 13th! Spooktacular! Alas, nobody could go trick or treating, for there was a blood moon that day, and nobody wanted to be outside where their costumes would be stained with all the blood. Sigh... what a boring, uneventful day it was shaping up to be!

But then... a sound right outside. The sound of the mailbox opening and closing. Mail? On this federal holiday? How strange! And a bit disconcerting... who would dare to venture out with the town moist with blood? Maybe a vampire... eep! I opened the door, shivering, worried I may accidentally invite the hypothetical vampire inside, only to find...

Nobody there. No body at all. Just a severed, green hand clinging to the mailbox. So that's what the sound was! And here I was, worried it would be something scary. I shooed the little critter away, and as it scuttled off on its fingers, I saw that it had left something in the mailbox! Something familiar.

Why, it was a copy of Super Mario 64 DS! How generous, a Halloween miracle! I had been wanting to play this lately, but my childhood game card had stopped working. This was shaping up to be a nice Halloween after all! It was a used copy, and it still had the price sticker on it, having been resold at $6.66. Upon seeing this number, I immediately screamed. Someone had gotten an incredible deal on this game!

So, I opened the box. Everything was in great condition! Even the manual was included! I don't remember the manual looking like a torn piece of paper with "I SEE YOU" written on it with blood, but it's been a long time. I know I still have my original manual around somewhere, so no need to flip through this one. I got right to playing the game!

What a rush of nostalgia! There was my friend Mario's funny face on the touch screen, ready to be tapped! And tap I did! Rather than the game drawing the lineart of Mario's face, though, it drew something else. A tombstone with my full name, date of birth, and another, later date written on it. Weird! Must be a weird coincidental thing drawn by the previous owner? I played around with the squiggly lines and spun it around. It was fun :)

I got right into the game, and everything was just as I remembered it! I was visited by Lakitu, went into the castle, and jumped into the first painting, like I had so many times before. But something definitely was strange here. I was reasonably certain that the first mission of Bob-omb Battlefield was not called "Kill The Big Bob-omb Dead" in any version of the game! Nevertheless, I continued on.

That was when I saw it. Where I would expect a Bob-omb Buddy to stand was the most terrifying character design I had ever seen. Against my better judgement, I approached and interacted with it.

"Hi! I'm Bob-omb...

BLOODY!!!"

EEK! I could not believe my eyes! I would expect such material in an "adults only"-rated game, but in MARIO?! I had no idea what to do. I continued playing for some foolish reason, running off toward the Big Bob-omb the way I always would, hoping to find comfort in the familiar. The game felt normal again, aside from how Big Bob-omb left a large splatter of realistic blood on the ground when defeated, and I was mercifully brought back to the safety of Peach's Castle.

And yet... I felt a morbid curiosity. An urge to continue playing. Maybe it was just a glitch? Maybe the second mission would be back to normal, and I would get to see my friend Koopa the Quick? That would be nice. I selected the second mission, and...

It was normal. It was safe. The Bob-ombs, Buddies. Maybe none of that was even real. Maybe I was still shaken up about the knock at the door earlier? Whatever it was, it wasn't important anymore. I could finally play my funny Mario game and have fun! I walked on over to my friend the Koopa and interacted with him.

"Excuse me? Can I help you? Who are you?"

I was confused. Wasn't he supposed to ask for Mario? Wasn't this Koopa the Quick?

And then, as if he heard me, he turned his head. He wasn't looking at Yoshi. He was looking straight through the screen at me, and his eyes were more realistic than ever.

"I'm not Koopa the Quick.

I'm Koopa the TRICK!"

AIIIIIEEEEE!!!

Of course, none of this has been real! Just some Halloween Hijinxs! There is no such thing as a realistic turtle!

...Or is there?

That's for you to find out... heehee! Happy Halloween!

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart Chapter 12

on Ao3

18+ MDNI

All chapters

Chapter 12 - Night night

If you were nervous about dinner, that was nothing compared to your anxiety around bedtime. There were so many variables you were just thinking in loops. You didn’t know if you were supposed to be…intimate together? And you were really worried about the sleeping arrangements. Sure, you slept in a bed once today. But you were exhausted then, and you were just regular tired now so what were you going to do? What if Thatch got mad at you for doing something in your sleep? What if you moved too much or had a nightmare or woke up in the night? You had a feeling this was going to end badly for you, you just didn’t know how yet. 

You went back to the women’s quarters to get a change of clothes for the night and next day. When you entered, you saw some of the nurses you had become friendly with. You went to your belongings and started to take a few things out.

“Hey, Y/N! You finally gonna sleep here tonight? We’d love to have your company.”

“Ah, no. I have to - to go somewhere else.”

“Ooh, cheeky girl. Well, have your fun - we all do from time to time. There’s no shame in that!”

You went red, grabbed the rest of your things and turned to leave. Tate caught your attention and motioned you over to her. Approaching her with your bundle, she brought you over to her area. Her lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Y/N, are you ok?”

“Of course I am, why would I be not ok?”

She gave you an uneasy look and continued “I’ve been on the Moby for a few years now. I love Whitebeard and I love being here. That said, some men on board can be intense in their affections. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“I…uh..think I do?”

“Just let me know if it ever becomes too overwhelming. I can always help you figure something out.”

You nodded. You really appreciated Tate putting herself out there for you. But you weren’t sure there was anything she could realistically do. You were under the thumb of three incredibly powerful men, and they had been helping you in some ways. But you’d keep her offer in mind for the future. 

You left the women’s quarters and headed over to Thatch’s cabin with your clothes. You didn’t want to go find him with everything in your hands, it was obvious you were bringing clothes for an “overnight stay.” You opted to wait for him there. You didn’t have to wait long before he came down the hallway, freshly showered and in a towel. You were staring at him - he was incredibly attractive. He wasn’t one to keep his shirt unbuttoned like most on the ship. He was well muscled, with a hairy chest and a Whitebeard tattoo on one pec. He looked different with his hair down - it was long and clearly well taken care of. You liked both looks on him, but this made him look a little softer. He seemed to be caught unaware that you would be there, but he smiled at you nonetheless.

“Eager to begin our night mami?”

You grimaced and entered in front of him as he held out the door. Your main worry was the expectations surrounding the night. But now you had an additional fear arise as you realized you would have to change into your clothes - and so would he. You turned and faced the wall, still holding your things. You hoped he would get dressed with your back turned.

“Feeling shy?” he laughed softly. He walked up behind you and touched you on your shoulder, which startled you. “Mija, this is literal. We are just sleeping together in the bed. No need for sex, or any funny business, nothing but sleeping. I’m going to get dressed. Feel free to stay turned that way.” He kissed the top of your head and walked over to his dresser. You heard the sound of Thatch rummaging through his clothes. 

You felt better in some ways. Now you knew that it was just a sleeping arrangement, no other expectations. You waited until you stopped hearing clothing sounds and peeked over your shoulder. Thatch was now lounging in his bed with some loose fitting pants. 

“Ah, can I change too?”

“Be my guest. Well, I guess you are my guest.”

“Could you, um, turn around?”

“No.”

“W-wait I thought you said no funny business!” you were getting worked up quickly.

“It’s my room, I’m not turning around. I’ll tell you what, I’ll close my eyes.”

“How do I know you won’t look?”

“You don’t, you’ll have to trust me.”

It was better than nothing. He could have just denied you all together. You huffed and said “fine.”

“So, the gatita is feeling feisty. That’s alright, I can take it.” 

“OK, close your eyes. Keep them closed until I tell you.”

“On my honor as a pirate.”

You still turned your back to him anyway to change. You wouldn’t be able to see if he was watching from your angle, but you’d rather have this part over with. You quickly shucked your dirty day clothes and changed into an oversized linen shirt you’d found onboard somewhere. It went all the way down to your knees, like a nightgown.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

Thatch opened his eyes and gave you a quick once over. “You look lovely. Now come to bed.”

You were nervous as you perched yourself on the edge of the bed. You put your legs up and laid down as far over to the side as you could. Thatch blew out the lamp and laid down near the middle of the bed.

“Ah, ah. Not like that.” He reached out his large hairy arm, grabbed you around the middle and pulled you until your back was snugly against his front. He kept his arm around you, securing you to him. He nestled deeper into you and yawned again.

“H-hey wait! That’s not fair! You just said I only had to sleep here!”

“Mmm…complain to the captain, mija.”

Thatch POV

On his honor as a pirate? Please. Of course he watched you change. He wanted to see what your body looked like under the loose clothes you wore all the time. And, he also wanted to see what Marco had told them about. Marco hadn’t been exaggerating, your back looked gut wrenchingly awful. Your beautiful skin had been marred not once, but twice, resulting in the painful looking scars. Thatch supported Ace and Marco torturing those Marines. He should actually encourage them more, he thought. Your back didn’t bother him at all, looks wise- hell, he had a facial scar - but it did make him feel bad for you. Especially since Marco told them that the scars caused you pain.

But he was done feeling sorry for you when he saw your luscious little body. All curves and lines with the perfect tiny features. You were a petite treat, hiding yourself away under those baggy work clothes. He liked that no one else besides his brothers got to see what your body really looked like. You were a present only they could unwrap. He knew he would be spooning with you ever since they hatched this plan - he wanted you right next to him through the whole night. And it’s not like you could protest - you couldn’t move his arm if you tried.

He started thinking about the dinner you had together. It was nearly his perfect dream. Just the two of you, with you on his lap, being fed by his hand. You meekly accepting his food into your lush mouth, plush lips closing in on the fork. You allowing his touch as he cared for you intimately. Your tiny body dwarfed by his, his little doll he could care for. You were so compliant and pliable he couldn’t wait to get you into bed. He had been so turned on and painfully hard, he wanted to throw you on the table and feast on you right there. But, patience would get him farther in the long run.

He really wasn’t going to try any sexual activity with you tonight. He knew you had sleeping issues and it might be a difficult night for you. He figured today was a lot already, so many changes to your life. He knew trying anything would set him back further in your trust. No, you needed to see that Thatch would help you, protect you, always be a source of strength for you. So he would content himself with holding you through the night. For now.

Y/N POV

You couldn’t sleep. You were really troubled by the lack of light in the room. You felt OK, since you knew Thatch could (would?) protect you against whatever bumped in the night. But the darkness was closing in on you. You didn’t think Thatch was asleep yet, so you tapped his arm with a finger.

“Thatch?”

“Mm..?” 

“It’s dark.”

“It's dark every night.”

“Can you open the shades to let in the moonlight?”

“S’a new moon. No moonlight.”

“OK.”

You started fidgeting, you couldn’t help it. You were pinching your fingers and wiggling your toes to try to calm yourself down. It was just so dark and you wished you were somewhere secure  but you were in an unfamiliar bed and and and and

Thatch’s hand covered yours. He picked up his head and looked down at you, his long hair draping on your shoulders. “Querida what’s going on?”

“I don’t like the dark.”

“I can tell. I can’t keep a lamp lit while we sleep, it’s too dangerous. How can I help you? Why don’t you like the dark? Maybe if we talk about it, we can figure something out.”

You turned so you were now facing towards him. He laid flat on his back and you laid your head on his chest. If you were going to talk, might as well do it facing each other. 

“Oh, um, well. When I was with the Marines -”

“Imprisoned by the Marines”

“Right, imprisoned by the Marines, they used to sometimes seal me into a crate.”

“Why?” Thatch’s voice was quiet and calm. He started gently running his fingers up and down your back.

“Well, since I never changed ships or captains, the Lieutenants who did the inspections didn’t change either. They were worried that if the Lieutenants saw me year after year on the ship, they would get suspicious about why I was still on the ship and not on a Marine base or in jail. So when they knew that someone was coming or there was an inspection they’d seal me into a crate so that no one would see me. They had a special one for me that had no gaps, which didn’t allow for any light either.”

“I see. How long would you be there?”

“Depends. Sometimes as short as a few hours. Sometimes about a day. I think they forgot about me once and I was there almost three days. It was hard to tell time. So, that’s why I don’t like the dark.”

“That would be understandable,” Thatch said, still moving his fingers delicately and stroking your skin. But his tone was tense and strained.

“Are you mad? It’s OK, it’s part of the reason I survived. I was in my crate when the storm hit, so when the ship was destroyed I washed ashore. Then Vista’s brothers found me, and well…you know the rest.”

“I’m not mad at you mami. It just makes me upset to hear that such terrible things happened to you. But no part of this was OK.” 

He thought for a moment and said “I’m going to light the lamp and you go to sleep. I’ll stay awake and blow it out once you’re sleeping.”

You frowned and said “but that’s not right, you were working all day too. I don’t want you to have to wait up for me.”

“Mija, that’s what’s happening. Soon the moon will be back and the problem will solve itself.”

He reached up, lit a match, and relit the lamp. He settled you back down onto him the way you had been previously, with your head on his chest. 

“Thank you Thatch.”

“Goodnight mi amor.”

“G’night Thatch.”

You had been nervous you wouldn’t sleep. But Thatch was so warm, smelled so nice, and you could hear his heart beating steadily. His hand was still drawing patterns on your skin, you could feel him take regular breaths. It was comforting and comfortable and you were so tired. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep in his embrace.

[harryforvogue]

the one where mia still hates horror movies and harry gets distracted far too easily. this contains smut and is about 4k words. happy reading <3

***

“I do not want to watch this,” Mia says for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. Normally, her insistence of not trying anything new would bother Harry, who’s typing the movie’s title into the streaming platform for tonight's choice, but he doesn’t pay much attention to her. Because he’s waited several months for the movie to start streaming. And he’s not going to let his girlfriend talk him out of watching it.

She’s already done it once. When it came out in the movie theaters, he’d asked Mia to watch it with him, only to be hit with just a resounding “NO” that he never brought himself to ask again. It’s not as if anyone else would go see it with him anyways. His sister only goes to the movies to see comedies. Zack only goes to the cinema to fall asleep in a comfortable recliner, and anyone else would just piss Harry off too much.

He’d asked Mia once and then never again. It was a risk asking her anyways. She doesn’t like horror films. But Harry can’t help loving them. And he goes to see whatever she wants to in the cinema.

So after waiting long months and avoiding spoilers like the plague, the movie is finally out and Harry will not let his wimp of a girlfriend stop him from enjoying it.

So he shrugs in response to her petulance and flips the duvet back over her side of the bed. “Fine. Then, don’t.”

“But I want to spend time with you.”

He flips the duvet again, patting the mattress invitingly. “Then come.”

“No.”

Flip. “Okay.”

“Why can’t we watch something we both want?”

“Because I have been waiting for this movie for a long time and I haven’t seen a decent horror film in months. Look.” He sighs and gestures to the shopping bag he came home with. “I’ve got your favorite snacks. And you don’t have to watch all of it. Just come here and look away when it gets really bad.”

Harry removes a bag of popcorn and opens it. He pops one in his mouth and smiles, tilting his head back on the stack of pillows behind him. He holds his hand out. “Come here, baby.”

“No. I don’t like you.”

“Mhmm. Come here.”

She stares at him for several long seconds and then gives in, reaching for his hand. Harry knows she’s not going to be able to resist him.

Mia’s spent the entire day following him around like a lost puppy, running her hand over his face. He’s grown out a bit of stubble, which Mia is completely enamored by. She’s not a fan of facial hair normally, but he’s tidied it up a lot. He’s cleaned up his upper cheeks and neck. She’s kissed his face several times today.

She’s also been very vocal about his hair. The way one side of it flops over his brow. It’s long enough now that his curl pattern is returning. It’s more like a wave right now, but Mia seems to be loving it.

He slides her closer once she’s in bed, settling the duvet around her. She even opens her mouth when he presses popcorn to her lips.

“Can you just tell me when something is about to happen?”

Mia’s already got her arms around him, laying right beneath his shoulder. She takes a deep breath, but Harry knows she’s actually taking in his scent. She does it a lot. He especially loves it when her shoulders relax after she smells him. He wraps his arm around her waist.

“I haven’t seen the movie so I don’t know when it’ll get scary but I’ll try my best.”

She’s not satisfied with that answer, judging by the way she slides down and mumbles something along the lines of “yeah, whatever”.

He presses play and then reaches over to turn his lamp off.

Mia immediately complains, “No, it’s too dark. Now it’ll get too scary.”

Harry takes a small handful of popcorn and pushes it into her mouth. “Shut up.”

She accepts the popcorn and chews angrily. But at least she stays silent after that.

The movie starts the way all horror movies do: happy. And Mia watches silently. Somewhere around the five minute mark, she reaches for Harry’s hand and tucks it under her chin. Occasionally, she’ll press a kiss to it before returning her attention to the screen.

But of course, the tensions begin to brew, and Mia’s hand tightens around Harry’s, almost to the point of discomfort. And after the first jumpscare (and scream from Mia), Harry sighs and raises the duvet, throwing it over her head. 

“Just stay there until the scene passes,” he says, partially to help her, but mostly to avoid his eardrum bursting from her next scream.

She slides down and buries her face in his stomach, whining. “I hate this.”

He pats her covered head. “I know.”

“I hate you.”

“Totally.”

“I wanna watch something else.”

“Mm, too bad.”

“I can’t breathe down here.”

“Also too bad.”

She groans and raises Harry’s shirt, putting her head against the flat plane of his stomach, where his butterfly tattoo rests. His muscles clench as he bites down a laugh. She sighs and kisses his skin before laying her cheek down.

“You know,” he says, once he’s contained himself, “saying you can’t breathe and then putting another layer over your face isn’t the smartest decision.”

“I could punch your dick right now and you wouldn’t be able to do anything,” Mia retorts.

She’s got him there. Harry knows she won’t do anything, but if he’s learned anything about her, it’s that it’s best not to provoke her to the edge of insanity.

He just pats her head and continues watching.

Mia says, “I can still hear it.”

“I can’t really help with that, baby.”

She presses her fingers to his hip, poking hard. He doesn’t shift, but he’s suddenly very aware of where her hand is. How close it is to…other places.

Her fingers walk over to the other hip, slowly, exploring his warm skin as if it’s the first time. Harry swallows and doesn’t move, letting her. He waits for her fingers to dip a little lower towards his sweats, and nearly groans when she pauses at the knot of his pants.

Without uttering a word, Mia slowly undoes the knot and waits a second as if she’s expecting him to stop her.

He would never ask her to stop.

And after a moment, she slowly drags her hand over his thighs, pushing her fingers against the rigid muscles, and then finally slides her hand into his sweats. Harry freezes, holding his breath. His screen is showing some violent scene, but his head is filled with Mia and what she’s doing. His attention is barely on the movie when she takes him into her hand.

He’s already half hard. He faintly hears her giggle. 

“Mia,” he says.

“What?” she replies innocently. Her hands move over his clothed dick, slowly, softly. Almost tenderly He knows she must be feeling how he’s getting harder by the second. Mia removes her head from under his shirt and peeks up at him out of the duvet. “What?” she repeats, dragging out the word.

“Have I ever told you what an utter pest you are?”

“Not enough clearly. Hasn’t gotten through my thick skull.”

She strokes him again, and Harry tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. She has such a control on him. He reaches blindly for the remote and pauses it, thankfully at a not so gruesome scene, and lets Mia come out of her hiding spot. She grins at him, reaching up to straddle his hips. Her arms fling themselves around his neck.

The movie is completely forgotten about when Mia kisses him. He holds her tight to his chest, leaning into the kiss to reciprocate. She holds his curls between her fingers tightly, presses herself against him. Her teeth bite down on his lower lip, just the way he likes it, and she whimpers into his mouth when his own hand tangles into her hair to give it a sharp tug.

He needs to be on top of her. So he flips her over, making her laugh in the process, and pins her wrists down to the mattress. Her eyes are lit with an intense fire, her pretty mouth pink, and her hips raising to meet his. He gathers her wrists in one hand to secure them above her head, and uses his other to open her legs, slotting himself in between.

“Just one night,” Harry whispers, kissing down her neck. She gasps and squirms under him. “I just want one night where we get to watch a movie of my choice. Why must you always act up?”

“It’s fun,” she whispers back, raising her head to kiss him. He kisses her passionately, but too briefly. Moving away from her, he works on her shorts, gently pushing them down to her calves until she’s able to kick them off herself. “Getting you all annoyed is so fun.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, because you never get angry. Just all worked up.”

“It’s an everyday thing with you.”

“That’s why you love me,” she gasps as he works on his own sweats, pushing them down and off the bed. He leans down and kisses her neck again, all the way down to her shoulders. Between her collarbones rests a pendant he bought her for her birthday a few months back and he decides he’ll leave that on. But nothing else will stay between them.

He releases her wrists and makes a quick work of removing both his shirt and hers. “Amongst other reasons, but you being the most insufferable person I have to deal with daily is definitely at the top.”

She bites away a smile and wraps her arms around his neck. “I was gonna use my mouth.”

Harry swallows. “Thought you just wanted attention.”

“That too, but I wanted to taste you.”

He lets her go, rolling off her body and sitting against the headboard. “Go ahead.”

She looks very determined suddenly. She reaches for a hair tie on her wrists, but discovers none, so Harry says, “It’s all right, I’ll do it.”

She nods. After the removal of clothes, she’s left in a tanktop and underwear, while Harry’s just in his briefs, which are also lost when she pulls them down and wraps her hand around him again. Harry can’t just not touch her, so before she begins, he pulls her closer and gently thumbs her clit through her underwear. Her eyebrows immediately scrunch with pleasure as she grinds herself against his palm, but he lets her go soon after.

“Rude,” she says, eyes already hazy. It’s so easy to get her riled up too.

He bites back a swear and watches her lean over him. She doesn’t take him into her mouth immediately. As he reaches over to turn his lamp back on, Mia slides down between his legs and kisses his thighs.

She looks up at him through her lashes and he nearly groans, the sight of her making him grow harder. He takes her hair, making it into a ponytail and lets her do her work.

She raises her head. “You can…you know.”

He absolutely knows what she means. 

Mia’s hair is very long. It’s always been long ever since he’s known her, and so he wraps the silky brown strands around his knuckles and tugs hard. She whines and lets him pull her slightly up. She opens her mouth and gently takes him in.

Her tanktop’s strap slides down her shoulders, but neither of them pay it any mind. Mia knows how to treat him well, from the careful suction of her mouth, to the hand around him that strokes him, meeting her mouth. Hot need pulses through him as she bobs her head, taking her time with him.

Harry knows that after a while, Mia gets tired of working her mouth over his cock, so he prepares himself to take over once it happens. He pulls on her hair, enjoying the sound she makes at the back of her throat when he does. He lifts his hips up, just barely, and Mia’s nails dig into his hips in response.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, lovingly tucking her hair that’s escaped his grip away from her face. “You are unbelievable.”

Accompanied by a soft gasp, she pulls off of him, her lips shiny with spit, chest heaving for breath. “I learned from the best.”

With that nod to their previous relationship, she wraps her lips around his tip and focuses there, using her hand to run up and down his shaft. His fist tightens around her hair, his other hand grasping the duvet hard enough to make his knuckles go all white.

Mia’s eyes flutter shut and she runs her tongue along the underside of his tip where she knows it feels best.

Her cold necklace dragging along the inside of his thigh mixed with the heat of her mouth makes him go near insane. He tugs on her hair, mumbles praises, and throws his head back in pleasure.

“Going to treat you so good after this,” he whispers, raising his hips again. She chokes softly, but doesn’t mind. “You deserve the world for how good you make me feel.”

It’s not a new promise, per se. Mia’s been hinting about how Harry’s facial hairy may feel between her legs. 

She hums in agreement and doubles her efforts. Harry slowly begins to work with her, carefully pushing down the way she likes whenever she’s sucking him off. He’s been told by Mia that she likes the encouragement from him. He never pushes it too far, but he’s not one to deny her of anything. When he brushes against the back of her throat, she chokes again, pulling up for air.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, running his thumb over her mouth. He smears her left over lip tint from the day.

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice hoarse. “You wanna take over?”

“Sure.” He releases her hair and lets her adjust herself before handing herself over to him. “Actually.” He says, reaching over a pillow. He throws it over the side of the bed and sits up. “That’ll be easier.”

She nods, getting up. She slides off the side of the bed and then kneels between his thighs when he goes to sit on the edge as well. He gathers her hair back into a ponytail. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, smiling. She rests her cheek on his thigh and closes her eyes briefly. Harry presses his thumb to her mouth and lets her suck on his finger for a moment. When she bites down on him, he decides it’s enough, pulling on her hair to get her back up.

In a flash, she’s ready to go again, opening her mouth. She doesn't need to do anything this time, letting Harry guide her head and set the pace. He’s not gentle about it. Neither of them are in the mood for gentleness.

He presses in and out of her quickly, enjoying the scrunch of her nose and the fire in her eyes as she keeps up the best she can, eyes trained solely on him. When she coughs, Harry pulls out, just leaves the tip on her tongue. After she clears her throat, he pushes in again and keeps pushing until her eyes close and she focuses on not choking.

“I fucking love you,” he breathes. He drags one hand down the side of her jaw and then wraps his hand carefully around her neck. Her eyes fly open, tears in them. He releases her neck and wipes a stray tear from her eyelash. “So much. You make my life so much better, Mia.”

She makes a noise that identifies something along the lines of “is this really the time to be saying these things?” and Harry laughs through the tightness in his lower stomach. After a few more bobs, Harry releases her and lets her breathe.

Mia turns her head and coughs once. Then she turns back to him.

“Don’t really feel like coming in your mouth today,” Harry murmurs, sliding his thumb back into her awaiting mouth. She blinks the tears out of her eyes.

“Why not?” she asks around his finger, blinking up at him.

“Have something else in mind.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. Harry’s plans for the bedroom are always amazing, no matter how spontaneous.

“Bend over the bed,” he says, standing up to give her space. “And take off the top. I’m hot just from looking at you in clothes still.”

She hurries to do as she’s told. She’s done taking off her tank top when Harry returns from the closet with one of her vibrators. He goes to the bathroom to wash it off quickly and when he’s back, she’s bent over the bed, looking up at him, intrigued.

“Here,” he says, handing it over to her. She takes it, and then he disappears behind her. She peeks over at him, but he just pushes her underwear down, kissing her spine. He seems to kiss every vertebrae, her hips, and her thighs. But finally, he stands up, carefully spreads her legs, and slowly pushes into her.

Mia’s gasps and Harry whispers, “Fuck.”

He starts at an even pace, spreading his hands over her hips. He doesn’t pull her along with him when he retreats. Instead, he fucks her into the mattress, his speed building gradually.

“Fuck! Harry, I– wait Can… I use this?” Mia asks, her eyes closed, holding the wand tightly in her grasp.

“Yes, go ahead, baby.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She slides her arm between her legs and turns the wand on, pressing it to her clit. Immediately, she cries out, her free hand holding the sheets hard. Harry drags his hand over the skin of her back, enjoying the way her muscles tense and release with every thrust he gives her. Mia’s mumbling into the sheets, swearing, moaning.

Harry presses his hand against her shoulder blades and makes her drop her head to the mattress. Her whimpers are muffled but nonstop. Her shoulders shake with emotion as Harry holds himself up by resting a hand on the mattress, speeding up his thrusts.

She takes him so well, his body hot from the feel of her walls around him. He could stay here for days. Weeks. Just basking in her warmth, the sound of her pleasure filled cries, her trembling thighs.

His thrusts deviate from relying on speed to intensity. They begin to get harder, and she jolts every time he gives her a rough thrust. When she picks her head up to breathe, she’s sobbing, “I love you. I love you. I love you so much, it feels so good. So good. Feels so fucking good. You always feel so fucking–”

“Fuck,” Harry says with an edge of a laugh. He has to hold her hips to make sure her knees don’t give out from such pleasure. “I love you too, baby.”

“No,” she cries, “like I really really love you.”

He laughs again, digging his fingers into her hips. It’ll leave marks and he’ll be kissing the bruises later, apologizing while Mia cards her own fingers through his hair gently, assuring him it’s all right. “I know,” he says now. “That’s why you’re going to come for me, right?” Mia’s already nodding her head before he’s finished with his sentence. “Going to show me how much you love me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please, yes!”

“Go ahead then, my love. Show me.”

Mia gasps and near shrieks at the intensity of her orgasm, and her pulsating walls send her spiraling towards his own orgasm. She holds her vibrator to her clit throughout the entire time, sobbing into the sheets with her eyes tightly shut. His hands hold her hips tight as he buries himself inside of her one last time, groaning through his release. He drops his head against her back and catches his breath, still kissing her skin while his lungs ache.

The sound of the vibrator falling against the floor makes both of them open their eyes and glance at each other. Harry’s the first one to laugh, wrapping his arms around her when her knees finally give out and she nearly falls on the floor. He holds her up and gently helps her back onto the bed when she dramatically lays on her front, sniffling.

“Are you alright?”

Mia nods. “Mhmm.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Harry wipes her face clean of any tears. Her hair is covering half her face and he fixes that so he can see into her pretty grey eyes. Her lip looks red from her biting down on his, her cheeks flushed.

“I love you,” he whispers, poking her cheek.

“I can tell,” she croaks back. He smiles, throwing the duvet over her naked body to make sure she doesn’t get cold. She seems too tired to do anything but lay there.

So Harry is the one who gets up to go to the bathroom and clean himself off. He returns with a washcloth, flips her over, kisses her softly for several long seconds, and then wipes the remainder of the makeup from her face, as well as the inside of her thighs.

Mia watches him do all of it with tired eyes, running her hand gently through his hair. His curls are all messy. “I like your hair like this,” she says when Harry’s folding the washcloth. He tosses it into the hamper and turns his head to kiss her palm.

“I thought you liked my long hair.”

“I did. But this is so nice too.”

He kisses her palm again, leaning down to kiss her mouth next. “You are so nice.” He kisses her slowly, savoring her taste.

She suddenly smiles, finding the strength to push herself up to her elbows. Harry’s busy kissing down her neck to her breasts, his arms tight around her when she says, “No more movie tonight.”

He laughs. “Was this all a plan of yours?”

“Nope, but it worked out great, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’m really in the mood to finish the movie now.”

Mia frowns. “What? No. No!”

“Come on, baby. It was just getting good.”

Mia’s already putting her head back under the covers. “Nope. No. Absolutely not. No way.”

Harry laughs, resting his body on top of hers. Mia peeks her head back out and wheezes from his weight, but he just kisses her face repeatedly. “Alright. No movie. Just kiss me a little bit, yeah?”

The color returns to her face when she manages to shove him off. “Fine! Just. Turn the light off and come back to me, please.”

And with that command, Harry is once reminded that he’s not the type to ever say no to his love. He does as he's told.

[lazybutsmexy]

Rotten Apple

Ghost x fem!Reader (Canary) x Soap

A/N: This is set after the events in Bird Hunting, but is mostly centered around Canary (here [Name] due to her being in a civilian setting) and her parents. Just a lil' bit of lore for BH fans :)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, referenced past child neglect, narcissistic/abusive parents.

Summary: Sweetened apples turn sour when rotten apples are around.

Word count: 2100~

“...Yae think we should’ve brought a leash?” Johnny pondered, and Simon had no choice but to consider his opinion for the next time they went to the farmers’ market with [Name]. Only ten minutes had passed from the moment they arrived, and it only took her catching a whiff of sweetened apples for her to zoom away into the crowd. 

And it was crowded today, with a congregation of people, alone, in couples, or entire families that had decided to brave the unusually sunny weather to stock up on organically harvested seasonal fruits and vegetables, animal products, and other produce made by the same people that sold them in cute little stands. 

[Name] absolutely loved the farmers’ market - Simon wasn’t that keen on crowds, but both him and Johnny were easily swayed by her excitement. The initial plan was for them to stock up on groceries before spending a long-awaited long weekend at Johnny’s cabin in the north. But now she had disappeared to who-knows-where. 

Her stealth had been an important skill during missions, but now it was a problem. Is this how their enemies felt, knowing that she was around there but being unable to find her?, Simon thought, his eyes scanning the crowd from above - luckily, there weren't many people even close to his size. 

“There!” Johnny exclaimed, and took off in a random direction. Simon was hot behind his heels, refusing to lose another one of his partners today. Both men had to struggle to part the crows around them without shoving them aside, and not tripping into distracted kids that wandered around their parents. 

Finally, Simon saw her, but there was something off about her. He couldn’t quite place it before Johnny got to her, his hand brushing her arm. 

“[Na-]! Oh, sorry,” Johnny quickly retracted his hand with a sheepish grin, “I thought you were my girlfriend, you look a lot like her.”

The girl eyed him up and down and quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, “That’s the most awful pick-up line I’ve heard,” she sneered at him, and Johnny couldn’t help but notice that she really looked eerily similar to [Name], from the color of her hair, the shape of her lips, to the scrunch on her nose when she looked at him in displeasure. “And by the way,” she continued dismissively, crossing her arms over her chest, “I already have a fiance, and you can’t afford me anyway.”

Both Simon and Johnny blinked at the woman, who was looking at both of them up and down. Johnny was getting rightfully annoyed at her choice of tone, and was about to turn around when she saw the woman’s face shift into surprise as her eye caught something behind them. “...[Name]?”

[Name] had been about to grab Simon’s shoulder, excited to show him her newly purchased jars of jams while munching away at a caramel apple, but the moment she noticed who was speaking to them, she turned around and shifted through the crowds again. 

Her heart was pounding in her ears and she felt her lungs constrict against her ribs for oxygen. The soles of her feet stung - although her burns were healed, the new skin was still sensitive. She had lost her treat somewhere, but she paid it no mind, eager to find the exit, and wait for Johnny and Simon by the truck. 

However, and she should already know this by heart, Lady luck sometimes is a bitch. 

“...[Name]? Is that you?” The voice made her freeze on the spot, right outside the parking lot, and she felt like a child all over again as she slowly turned around, her eyes meeting her mother’s. 

“...Hi, mom,” she sighed dejectedly, resigning herself to her fate as she saw her father turn around to face her, regarding her with an unimpressed stare, “Hi, dad.”

“Haven’t seen you in years, darling,” the woman spoke sweetly and smiled politely, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It never does when it’s for me, [Name] thought bitterly. It was no different than when she spoke to a stranger at the grocery store, definitely not how one would speak to a daughter. 

“Have you finally come to your senses?” her father was less subtle, crossing his arms over his chest, “Are you finally coming back home?”

“Ah, no, I’m actually on medical leave,” she cleared her throat and straightened her back, finally remembering she was not a teenager anymore, “I have my own place, had it for a while now, actually.”

“Really now?” her mother cooed, “When are you going to get the rest of your stuff from home, then?”

[Name] blinked at her, tilting her head a little in confusion, “you told me you were getting rid of my things years ago, you said you were going to use my bedroom for an office for Trish or something.”

“Oh, we did repurpose your old bedroom, silly girl,” the woman laughed, then shrugged condescendingly, “what we couldn’t give away is in a couple of small boxes in the attic, mostly your childhood photos.” [Name] said nothing - she had already expected her parents to get rid of all traces of her the moment she joined the military, she was only mildly puzzled about them keeping anything. “I'm sure you’ll want those, at least.”

“...You don’t want them?” she asked, although she already had an inkling of what the answer would be. 

“Well, it would be embarrassing to have people asking about you, you know?” her mother sighed, shaking her head, “What would we tell them? It was easier to pretend your sister was an only child.”

“You could tell them the truth,” [Name] retorted, and her father seemed to tense up at her answer.

“Tell people that we have a daughter who whores herself out for a living?” He grumbled, while her mother looked around to see if anyone heard, “what do they call them, barrack bunnies?” 

[Name] bit her lip, her mind unhelpfully replaying the disastrous argument that resulted from her enlisting years prior. “I thought you didn’t care if I died, anyway.”

“But you’re alive, and you owe us,” her mother chastised, her pitch dropping a few tones, “we raised you-”

“Grandma and Grandpa raised me, you were too busy raising Trish.”

“We kept you fed and clothed even though you always rebelled against us,” her mother hissed, stepping closer, “you turned our family against us!” 

“You did that yourself,” [Name] kept her voice down, calm, knowing from experience that getting herself fired up would only give them more power, “you’re the one who started pretending I didn’t exist when I turned ten, saying you wished Trish was your only daughter.”

Her mother huffed and turned her face away indignantly, “and I stand by that.” 

“...I know, you find it easier to pretend I don’t exist than to check whether I’m alive or not.”

“We should’ve left you at the hospital when we had the chance.” 

[Name] rolled her eyes at that. After so many years living away from her parents, the usual quips and threats from her mother hurt less than when she was a teenager. It was a small comfort, to know that she’d grown out of her parents' shadow. “Yeah, that wasn’t very smart of you-” she was stopped by a sound slap, her face turning from the impact. She slowly raised her hand to cup her stinging cheek, and eyed her father, whose hand was still raised.

“You will not speak to your mother in that manner, young lady,” he growled, and [Name] just blinked at him, unsure of how to react without getting herself arrested. 

“And you will not raise your hand against my corporal again, unless you’re ready to lose it,” Simon’s voice was low, dangerously low, and it sent shivers down both [Name]’s and her parents’ spines, although for entirely different reasons. She glanced over her shoulder, finding herself eye-level with Simon’s chest. Johnny stood by his side with a severe expression in his face, one she had seldom seen before. 

Her parents warily stepped back, taking in the two large men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “W-who are you?” Her father stammered - although he would later deny he did. 

“Lieutenant Riley, and this is your last warning,” he grumbled, although he didn’t need to do anything else to intimidate them. They already looked as if they were trying to find somewhere to hide. 

Knowing that her parents were - for once - the ones cowering in fear stirred a newfound sense of power in [Name]’s heart - what was it that Gaz called it? Ah, yeah, scary dog privilege. She found it easier to look at the people in front of them and realize that nothing had tied her to them for a long time. 

The branches of the genealogy tree can also be snipped to one’s content, her Grandma had told her on her twelfth birthday, when she couldn’t grasp the concept of her parents choosing to celebrate one kid’s birthday and not the other’s. 

She had found herself being dropped off at her Grandparents’ early in the morning, while her parents boasted about taking Trish to an amusement park for the day. Little [Name] was heartbroken, and had begged her mom to forgive her for whatever she had done to not deserve a birthday party. But alas, they were relentless, and a lot of screaming from her mom and a backhanded slap from her dad had broken her pleas and made her silent, just like many other times. 

At that time, [Name] couldn’t grasp the meaning of her Grandma’s words, but now that she had grown up, and disappointment had settled in a long time ago, those words rang truer than ever in her mind. 

Even when she was on the brink of death in the forest, seeing them again never crossed her mind, for she knew they wouldn’t care even to visit her grave. 

Keep up with that attitude, and you will die alone, because no one will ever love you, her mother had told her at thirteen, when she started openly questioning the difference in treatment with her twin. 

How wrong she was, she thought. She was far from alone, and she was very well loved. Although her Grandparents were long gone, she had Simon and Johnny right here with her, and Gaz was her chosen brother, and Price was a better father figure than the man in front of her had ever been.

“Burn those photos, for all I care,” she smiled at her mother. It was a calm, detached smile - a polite smile you give to a stranger at the grocery store, not to a parent. “Make it real, that I do not exist for you.” 

And with that she turned around, tugging on Simon's long sleeve as discreetly as she could. Johnny did notice, however, and smirked to himself as he followed after them - Simon would’ve gladly squared up to those two for hours if needed, but he easily relented to her touch. 

Simon opened the truck’s passenger door for [Name] and she sat in silence, still mulling over her thoughts. A warm hand rested on her knee and she looked up to see her favorite pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They looked at each other in silence - there was an unsaid question in his lips, but she could almost taste it. 

“...Let’s go home, okay?” She whispered, her hand stroking his knuckles. He simply nodded and shut the door before climbing in himself. Johnny was already sitting behind her, his lips pressed in a pout as he caught her reflection on the side view mirror, staring out of the window at the pair of strangers that once held her heart in their hands.

After a few silent moments as they pulled out of the parking lot, Johnny reached over, presenting [Name] with a fresh candy apple with sprinkles on top. She took it from his fingers, chuckling to herself at how easy it was for them to draw a smile from here, even though her heart still stung a little.

"Thanks, love," she hummed, pressing a kiss to his wrist and knowing that Johnny was grinning proudly to himself. Simon's hand was warm on her thigh, a welcome weight that grounded her in the present.

She could grow her own tree, if she so wanted, with the people she loved the most.

A/N: poor bby Canary deserved better parents :(

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Children of the Sword

It was one of those rivers that was deeper than it was wide, and deceptively so - the churning waters reflected mild grey skies above, but lay slick over dark caverns underneath. There were stories, the sort of cautionary tale that every child has drummed into their nightmares: bathers who'd been scrubbed clear of existence. Children who'd played too close to the banks. Ramblers who had tried to ford a crossing, and been snatched away before they could scream for help.

They called it the Sword, for obvious reasons: silver, narrow, deadly. It ran sharpest in the spring, reinforced by glacial meltwaters from the mountains upstream. Latha knew well to keep her distance. She'd heard those same stories, and had no wish to join that list of fools who'd fallen for the river's charms; it looked shallow where it was deep, and calm where it was furious. It was the shroud over a grave, a mausoleum of hungry crevasses, and few of those taken even had their bones returned to bury somewhere else.

But her people had grown comfortable, living on its edge. The Sword ran through the valley, straight and true, and they were grateful for it. Latha's forebears had imagined it had fallen from the heavens, a silver blade to cleave the land in two, carving their sanctuary between the hills - and sanctuary it was, for no army climbed the Eastern slopes, and none saw fit to descend from the West. By the same token, few of their descendants left, hemmed in by the sheer sides to their basket. Those who lived by the Sword died by the Sword, as the saying went. If they didn't die in its depths.

"Another unusual find today," Gorla was telling her. Her older sister worked the fields, which meant she got to leave the house whilst Latha stayed and kept it clean. "Dar and the trappers were all in a huddle by the fire, debating what to make of it, but without the care to keep their voices low. Most of the tribe will know by now."

It wasn't that their neighbour was entirely hostile. The Sword took at every opportunity, but it was also known to give. There was fishing to be had, for those who knew how: the white water would snatch at lures and break most lines, but the trappers had learnt to set up coarse nets along its banks, to snare that which it brought willingly to their feet. Like a cat with a disembowelled mouse, she thought. Or a mother bird, regurgitating grubs to feed her desperate young.

They were Children of the Sword, in that sense and more; defined by this poor stretch of woodland bordering its banks, and unbothered by the peoples of the plains or hills to either side. Hatha was dimly aware of battles which raged downstream, where the blade flattened out and was good for fishing and commerce and mills, and at strongholds in the mountains, where there were lakes and natural springs. But nobody wanted to take what meagre lands they had, here in the middle, where it was narrow, white and rough. Few would wish to live here, and so they were largely left alone.

"A sheep?" They were an occasional treat, washed down from the mountains: still fresh, and dying the current red. They ate well on those nights. Horses were rarer still, well-bred chargers coursing down their narrow silver road, gifts from the warrior peoples to the West. Latha preferred that sweeter taste, lean like venison; and there was more to go around. But she wouldn't get her hopes up.

"A man," Gorla said, savouring the shock in her sister's eyes. Ever since the Casting when she'd come of age, her assignment to the fields, she'd relished her role as Latha's first link to the outside world: she liked to come home with fantastical stories spun out of the mildest of days, knowing they'd be grasped at like alms to the desperate. The eldest daughter had the use of everything first, including the village gossip.

"Someone we know?" That put Latha's nerves on edge. Dar was safe, she'd said. But there were others that she cared about. Family. Friends.

"A stranger," Gorla reassured her; she clearly hadn't expected her news to be taken in that way, and reached out her hand for a comforting squeeze. "A warrior, looks like. Bound in metal rings. From upstream, of course, but they had no idea how near or far. Looks an accident, Da said."

"Most likely," Latha agreed, pretending not to be surprised. The Children were well versed in those themselves. The Sword knew well the taste of sheep and horse, and also seemed to enjoy the flesh of man. "Strayed into the river, poor foreign fool. They don't know its power."

It was clearly a lesson that bore repeating. A week later, another visitor arrived, more familiar in his appear: his skin wore the same pallor of death, but his body was more colourfully draped in oriole orange and black, a livery that the goatherds recognised from the lips of nearby hills. This was a man who should have known the Sword, Gorla said; and known to keep his distance. Accidents happened, but it was strange to see two in such swift succession.

"What are people saying?" Latha hated that she had to ask, so dependent on regurgitated grubs herself. She would come of age within the month, and have a Casting of her own: the Elders casting lots to assign her to a trade, a trapper or a goatherd in her own right. Then she could walk the river for herself, and learn such things first-hand. But for now, she was sequestered in her nest.

"They're worried," Gorla said, her own face drawn and tense. "Whether a change in the river, or some conflict upstream, it's hardly good for us. People like the way things are. They don't like change, especially when we don't know what it means."

More answers came over the next few weeks; or the same answer, repeated again and again. Bodies. Some wore the same plumage of orange-and-black, others came in silver-and-blue, but all were armed for battle, or disarmed from it. Some bore wounds, great gaping rends in their frigid skin, their multicoloured capes allowed to dye the same shade red. They came in increasing numbers, as if the underlying calamity was getting worse.

"Or getting closer," Gorla relayed, on one of her daily recaps. "The goatherds recognise the silver-blue tabards too, and they're our nearest neighbours; even closer than the orange-black. "Whatever killed these men, war or otherwise, it seems to be making its way to us."

"What could it be, if not war?" That threat didn't seem real, somehow. There had never been a battle here. Upstream skirmishes might wander close enough to watch, but they would never spill over into this unwanted valley; it was too pointless to gain, too difficult to hold in a conflict. The Children held it with no force at all, in the absence of any other taker.

No answer came. Gorla didn't know; nor did the goatherds, or the trappers, or anybody else that she might listen to. Over the coming days, she only returned to the nest with scraps of information, or apologies for its absence: the bodies had no obvious cause of death, having been rent asunder by the rapids and the rocks. Not all seemed to have been of fighting age. Smoke had been seen on the horizon, and tasted on the evening breeze.

But Latha kept asking questions, desperate to understand the world beyond their door. Each fragment only revealed the gaps in her understanding. What damage did the rocks do, she needed to know - and could it look like a blade, or a claw? What was fighting age? How far away was the fire? What did that mean? She was grateful for every morsel, but ever hungry for more.

At least the timing was fortunate. Within a week, she would reach her own age of majority, with the chance to seek out answers for herself - to both her and Gorla's undoubted relief. But first she needed to attend her Casting, to learn which walk of life would free her from her home. Latha hoped to be a trapper, like their Dar: close to the river, and the source of more knowledge. But the choice wasn't hers, and the Elders could decide they needed her talents elsewhere: holed away weaving in another hut, she thought, knowing her luck.

"We understand that you have displayed... some curiosity about the bodies from the Sword."

They came to deliver the verdict. Latha didn't know if that was traditional; she couldn't remember how it had happened for Gorla. She had imagined her sister might relay the news, as she had everything else, or that Dar would be informed to tell her that night. But on the day of the Casting, five Elders arrived at her door in her family's place. They wore dusty robes and grim expressions, and they only grew sterner when she answered back.

"I don't understand anything about them at all, and it doesn't sound that anybody does. What do you know about the bodies? Please, you must have some idea of what's going on."

"Precious little," one Elder spoke hesitantly, as if reluctant to share even that. "At first, we thought they must have strayed into the sword, not knowing its power. But these are local men. Armed men. Here."

He offered her the bundle in his arms: a set of folded robes, but not remotely dusty. Freshly washed. Latha recognised the colours, the silver-and-blue, from Gorla's stories. This was the raiment of a corpse. The cloth was heavy, and her suspicions were confirmed when she lifted a fold of the bundle to find a blue-and-silver sword cocooned inside. A foreign weapon. A dead man's blade.

"We have kept the trappings of the men we trapped. The bodies were easy enough to dispose of, gifted onwards to the Sword, as a surprise for our neighbours to the East. But we thought the weapons, the clothing, might help us to determine how they died. At first, we meant only that they warranted further study: trying to decipher the message in a battle standard, to solve the royal cypher on that shortsword's hilt. But now it seems this problem calls for... a more direct approach."

"For me?"

He nodded. "We are Swordsmen and Swordswomen all, but none of us are warriors. Unfortunately, war comes for the innocents too. Something killed all of these men; something getting closer. Your Lot will be to journey West, to peer over the foothills of our neighbours... and to find out exactly what."

"A disguise," Latha realised, letting the rich cloth run through her fingers. The assignment didn't sound too dreadful; it was the same thing, more or less, that she had charged Gorla with each day. To find out what she could, and report back. That seemed to suit her curiosity, and she was glad that it had come to her. It was better than weaving, anyway. "And if it is... something else than a war? Something I can't outrun, or risk leading it here?"

He righted the sword in her hands. Silver-blue. Sliver-sharp. It shone like a river, the world swallowed into its reflection, as if it also had hidden depths. Latha hoped that went for both of them.

"The direct approach," he said.

[shinycollarboneapologist]

Dilf Matty building the crib all sweaty in a tank top and his grey curls

you get it.

you’re already incesscently hormonal and sweaty due to the growing bump attached to your midsection and the heatwave in the middle of june. you both tried so hard to not be in this predicament, but as most know, there's no real way to plan to get knocked up by your sexy, insane-sex-drive-having fiance. so you both rolled with the punches, and here you are- middle of june, fanning yourself as you watch matty expertly (he watched a few youtube videos and facetimed adam) build the crib.

his pink tongue is poking through his plush lips, brow furrowing in deep concentration. the thin button up he adorned over his black tank top is thrown somewhere else, and there's a line of sweat that's permeating through the darkened gray curls along his hairline. he puffs out a few groans every now and then, specifically when he mistakes the small wooden dowels for the slightly smaller wooden dowels and he has to take apart the section he's been working on.

you're draped along the chaise in the nursery, one hand rubbing small cirlces over your swollen stomach as the other fans you in an attempt to keep cool. "baby, why don't we just call the company and have them send out the experts?" you plea, watching him exert himself has just made you feel ten times warmer- and you're not sure if its because of the heat of the room or the growning need between your thights.

he scoffs, "i am an expert. besides, want to build something for our little peanut."

"you did have a hand in actually building the peanut," you hum.

matty tilts his head up from what he's doing, devilish smirk toying on his lips. "yeah, i did." he runs his tongue over his lips before his gaze softens, "but i want this to be special for them. our little bean."

hearing him talk about your unborn child has more of a reaction on you then you'd care to admit. there's a shiver that runs down your spine, icier in comparison to the heat that's been pulling at your skin for hours now.

"take a break," you plea, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"my love, i'm almost done," he's resumed his focus on the wooden pieces once more. he's not almost done, he's far from it. way too far from it to give you what you need, at least.

"matty."

"baby, i promise. i'll be yours in a moment, and then we can watch that new documentary you've been fiening for," his eyes barely lift.

"don't want to watch that documentary anymore," you groan, "just want to watch you between my thighs."

the wooden plank falls from his hands and there's a silence that casts over the room. its broken only by the way he clears his throat. once, twice, three times.

"oh."

its no secret that the welcoming of the second part of your pregnancy has brought out a bit of a beast within. your sex drive was high before, usually fueled by matty's own higher drive. but ever since the beginning of your fifteenth week, you've been incorrigible.

and matty loves it (despite having a hard time keeping up recently).

"have i been neglecting you today, my love?" he pouts his lips teasingly, the assorted pieces of wood quickly forgotten as he crawls to where you're sat.

you nod once and he sighs, "i'm so sorry. what's got you all worked up like this, hm?"

"just watching you. hearing you grunt and groan, and that shirt. god, that shirt."

"s'just a shirt, love," he tantalizes, yet he's already bunching up the long hem of your sundress in his hands. he pushes it up slowly, pressing a kiss to each inch of skin that is exposed.

"but you look so sexy in it," you whine out. his tongue trails a heated line up to the apex of your knee. he nips at the tender skin, soothing it with his tongue.

"oh do i?" he continues kissing up past your knee and thighs, pushing the hem of the dress up and over the curve at your hips.

"you do. so this is really not my fault this time, s'all yours."

he mocks your whine as he kisses across your thighs, lithe fingers coming to move the soddened center of your underwear to the side, "guess i better clean up the mess i made then, right?"