#hmm the flight got delayed again! I’m in hell!

[bespokegarbage]

Ooh looks like my flight might actually leave!

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - next chapter

 ☽ ☼ ☾

As he sat at his gate, he watched the other people. Something about airports had always intrigued him, so many people in their own lives, on their own paths all converging to this one place before jetting off once more. 

Lorcan was restless. On the arm of the uncomfortable chair, his fingers tapped out a furious beat. The monotonous drone of the phone line ringing in his ear didn’t help. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. I miss your voice and I need you to pick up so I don’t lose my fucking–

“What, the fuck , do you want?” 

He chuckled, “Good morning to you too, princess.” Inside his chest, his heart fluttered. Fuck, he missed her. He missed both his girls. The minute they’d dropped him off at the airport eight weeks ago, he’d been itching to go home. 

“I told you not to call me that.” There wasn’t any bite to her words and Lorcan knew - hoped - that she was wearing that soft, sleepy smile of hers. 

He hummed, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankle, “Tell me to stop without smiling and I’ll stop. Easy-peasy, Lochan.” 

Elide just muttered a curse in Blackbeak and sighed as if talking to him was some sort of divine torture, “Why are you calling? It’s not even three yet, Lor.” Instantly, remorse flooded through him. He’d forgotten completely about the time difference and told her as much. “Mmm, it’s fine. Did something happen?” 

“Nah, I just wanted to say hey before my flight. I’m sorry for waking you up,” he said. Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’ve… I miss you two.” 

The teasing, light mood dropped a bit. Lorcan could hear her breathing slowly and then she answered, her voice weaker than normal, “I know, Lor.” Her swallow was audible. “We miss you too.” Before he could respond, before he could offer her any sort of fleeting comfort, Elide spoke again, “Hold on one second, ok?” 

She was gone before he could respond. Lorcan could hear something rustling, like someone slipping out of a bed. He froze, hardly daring to breathe. She wouldn’t- Elide and Lorcan both knew better than to have someone over when they had the kid with them. 

There was soft murmuring he couldn’t quite make out and the unmistakable whine of their daughter. Lorcan slumped down in relief, cursing himself for this… jealousy. It wasn’t fair. “Hello?” snapped Stella Luna.

He chuckled, delighted by his child’s greeting, “Hey, Tiny.” 

She gasped and that innocent sound, filled with childlike wonder and elation, soothed his aching heart. “Daddy?” 

“Hi, Stella. I’m sorry I woke you up so early, I wanted to say hey before I get on the plane,” Lorcan explained with a smile. Thinking about Elide that summer had been painful enough, knowing he was so far from her, but it was nothing compared to the agony of missing his daughter. 

“Are you coming home today? ‘Cause I got kindergarten tomorrow, Daddy. Mama said you would take me,” Stella said. 

“Yes, I’m coming home today. I’ll take you to school tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. I’ve been very busy, you know. Yesterday we went shopping and at Mintage, mama found me a Wednesday Addams lunch box,” Stella regaled, her words dripping with wonder and awe. “I’m so excited ‘acause I love Wednesday Addams, Daddy, did you know? We watched it last night at Fenny’s house ‘acause he let me choose. He said he was sick of the Addams family and that’s why I called him a dummy.” 

He laughed, pausing for a moment to listen to the PA. “Passengers boarding Flight 1203 to Varese, please make your way to gate C49. Passengers in zone one, please line up at the boarding desk.”  

“What was that? It sounded funny, Daddy, like a robot,” Stella said. 

“My plane’s getting ready to take off, Stel, they want everyone to come to the gate,” Lorcan explained. “How was Fen’s?” 

“Oh,” she started, “it was very good, Daddy. After the movie, he taked me to his show an’ I wanted to bring Salem but it’s too loud for him so I sat with Essar and she got me a juice box when I was thirsty. I think it was a secret ‘acause they only give them to me. It was grape which is my favourite, but I didn’t want to finish all of it so Vee drinked it after his show. Then Fenny and me and Con and Vee went to Grampy’s and I fell asleep so Fenny took me home.” 

“Passengers in zone two, please line up at the front desk.” 

Lorcan checked his boarding pass, “Kid, I have to get on my plane now, ok?” 

“Ok,” Stella replied, a little sadly. “I miss you.” 

The corners of his lips turned down. Lorcan hung his head, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he tried to think of what he could say to comfort his child. Eventually, he said, “I know, Stella Luna. I miss you too. I promise - once I’m home, no more tours, ok? I love you.” 

“Love you too, Daddy,” she chirped, already his happy, bubbly little baby again. “Bye-bye!”

“Bye, Tiny. Put your mother on for me,” Lorcan said, laughing through the sentence. He could hear Stella Luna hand the phone over to Elide. 

“Yes , you can sleep now,” Elide said with a kiss smacked on Stella’s head. “Lor, you still there?” 

“Yeah, ‘m here. I have to get on the plane now.” 

“Ok. Do you want us to pick you up from the airport?” 

Though it pained him to say it and further delay their reunion, Lorcan said, “No, don’t bother. I’ll be tired and I’ll probably just crash when I get home. I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

“Can’t wait, Salvaterre.” 

He smiled a small smile, one that was only ever for Elide, “Me neither, Lochan.” 

 ☽ ☼ ☾

He woke up somewhere high above the Cambrian Mountains. For a few moments, Lorcan stared out the small window, groggy and confused. 

It took him a second to remember what was happening and why he was on a plane. When he finally did recall, Lorcan pulled his laptop out of his camera bag and placed it on the desk. The band he’d been working with over the summer had bought him a seat in business class for both his flights home. 

Lorcan shifted in his seat and absentmindedly toyed with the curved barbell that pierced the delicate skin connecting his upper lip to his gum as he waited for his computer to turn on. He leaned down, searching through his bag for the USB that carried every shot he’d taken in concert that summer. 

He found it and sat up straight. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he saw the background of his laptop. He hadn’t changed it in the three years since the photo of Elide tattooing Stella’s name in Ozuye on the outside of his right thumb while he held a sleeping Stella Luna to his chest with his free arm had been taken. The tattoo was his favourite, though it probably tied for first place with the cartoon-inspired Wednesday Addams on his inner left wrist. 

The placement of both designs had been purposeful, so when he was shooting something, he could see them clearly and think about his daughter. He had never met anyone who loved the Addams family more than Stella. 

Lorcan put his headphones on and played a playlist at random. Pink + White played as he opened Photoshop and uploaded a file he hadn’t even looked at yet. The photos weren’t needed for another month, but he would rather get them done now so he could focus on the upcoming studio show. 

He still hadn’t decided what or who his subject would be. Maybe he would take a break from concerts and focus on something else.

For the rest of the flight, he worked to distract himself from the fact that he’d be seeing Elide again. It hardly made any difference, his mind on her like always. Lorcan had been in love with Elide for… forever. He finally realised it, though, a couple weeks before she had their daughter. 

He had wanted… he had wanted a family with her. A real one, where Stella wouldn’t be perpetually split between two homes, but Elide hadn’t wanted that and Lorcan respected her wishes. Maybe it was foolish, but six years seemed like long enough to be pining for someone. 

As Lorcan got lost in the thoughts he spent most of his waking hours repressing, a hissing voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother snapped, Elide Lochan is not ‘someone’ and she is certainly not someone you get over. Ever. Stupid boy.  

His lips twisted with a rueful smile, though the memory of his mother ached and stung. Lorcan swallowed past the painful tightening of his throat and saved what he was working on, electing to watch something he’d downloaded on Netflix until they’d landed in Varese.

The air in Varese was balmy and he couldn’t stand it. Lorcan was seconds away from trying to peel his skin off. He had always hated the heat, but this steaming humidity was his hell. 

When his zone was called to board the flight, Lorcan could hardly keep the grin from his face. The thought of seeing his family, no matter how it hurt him to know Stella would come home with him tomorrow and Elide would stay in her apartment, was a joy nothing else had ever replicated. 

His heart seemed to beat a frantic timpani, each pat-pat saying, wait for me, wait for me, wait for me . 

 ☽ ☼ ☾

There was a crick in her neck. Elide muttered a curse with her eyes shut and reached out to her bedside table, only to feel nothing and hear an innocently delighted giggle. 

She smiled and kept her eyes closed. Slowly, Elide reached out, “I wonder who could be laughing right now. And where could they be!” 

There was that little laugh again, though Elide knew her child was doing her absolute best to stay silent. She heard Salem’s meow of protest and Stella’s sweet shushing. 

Staying silent had never been Stella’s strong suit. Elide continued on, now patting the blankets. “Hmm, I do wonder if they could be hiding beneath these blankets!” As she said ‘blankets’, Elide opened her eyes and ripped the covers away. A quick blur of orange and black flashed past as Stella’s fluffy cat was freed and Salem bounded away. 

Stella Luna’s shrieking laughter filled the room, gloomy from the rain that poured steadily against the large, paned windows. Elide laughed too as she grabbed her daughter and pulled her into her lap, her fingers digging into the soft part between Stella’s ribcage and hip bone. Stella squirmed away, begging her to stop, “No, please, mama, it tickles!” 

Elide chuckled softly and relented, choosing instead to gather Stella up in a long hug. “Oh, good morning, little one. How did you sleep, hmm?” She pulled back and brushed her hand through Stella’s hair. 

“Um, I slept good, mama, but I’m really hungry now, so I would like to have breakfast.” 

“We can do that. What do you want to eat?” 

Stella flicked her eyes up to the ceiling. Though her shape was Elide’s ethereal monolid, the colour of rich browns and deep blacks was all Lorcan. “Pancakes, mama. Can we make them look like bats?” 

Elide snorted and nodded, “Of course we can. Why don’t you go wash your hands and we can make them, ok?” 

The four-year old was off before she could even say yes, hurriedly careening into the bathroom. Her mother laughed again, but the care-free sound bled into a pained groan as she stood up and stretched. Elide really needed to stop crashing in her daughter’s bed. 

Stella hollered back from the toilet, “Mama, can we have chocolate chips in the pancakes?”

Elide smiled as she walked through Stella’s room. On the floor, one of Stella’s toys obstructed her path and Elide jammed her toe into a wooden box. She gritted her teeth against the pain and asked, “Will you clean your room today?”

“Uhhh,” Stella contemplated, “I guess. I dunno why , mama, I don’t care if it’s messy, why do you care?” 

“Because your room is messy and you might hurt yourself if you don’t know where something is,” Elide replied steadily. As she pulled on a pair of shorts, she heard little feet race into the kitchen. Elide twisted her hair up and clamped it into place with a hair clip. When she padded into the kitchen, Stella Luna was standing obediently on her stool, her hands clasped like a perfect little child. Elide hooted at the sight, “Oh, you little demon.” 

Stella grinned proudly at the nickname and pushed her wild hair back with both hands. She sighed in annoyance, “Mama, help please. It’s too much.” 

“Of course, witchling,” Elide said. Stella clambered up onto the counter to sit patiently. Elide hummed something soft as she parted her daughter’s hair and weaved two simple pigtails. As she braided, Salem gracefully leapt onto the counter and made himself comfortable in the fruit bowl, resting his chin on his crossed paws like a proper gent. “Better?” 

“Yeah,” Stella chirped as she climbed down and ran to the pantry. She flung the door open, “Mama, is Daddy coming home today?”

“He is. Remember, he called last night, baby,” Elide replied as she pulled out eggs and milk from the fridge. 

“Oh, I thought that was a dream ,” explained Stella. She lugged over the large container of flour, carrying it with both arms and almost tipped over. She decided to put it on the floor and push it to the counter. “I wanna play music!” 

Elide laughed as she picked the flour up and began measuring out the dry ingredients, “Go for it, Stella.” She watched in delight as Stella ran to the record player and sat on the floor in front of it to peruse the stack of records.

A couple moments later, Stella had decided and put the vinyl on. She pranced back over to her stool as music played. “Mama, can I crack a egg, please?” 

When I met you in the restaurant, you could tell I was no debutante

“Yes, ma’am,” Elide passed her an egg, “Be careful, you remember what to do, right?” 

“Yup!” Stella delicately cracked the egg on the side of the liquid measuring cup and used her thumbs to open it. The yolk and egg white plopped perfectly into the milk and vanilla. She picked up the whisk and mixed it all up. 

Dreaming, dreaming is free

Stella was soon bored and trailed over to the living room. She sat down and started to dance with her frog stuffie, singing along, “I don’t want to live on charity, pleasure’s real or is it fantasy…” Elide grinned at the sight and found the silicone mold in the top drawer.

A few minutes later, Elide slid a stack of bat wing pancakes onto a plate. “Stella? Food’s ready.” 

 “Ok, mama,” Stella said. She skipped to the table and climbed onto her chair. “Can I have maple syrup too?” 

Elide had already grabbed the bottle and grabbed a pair of forks drying in the dish rack. She put the plate down and sat, passing Stella her fork. Stella doused the pancakes in maple syrup and attacked viciously, stuffing an entire pancake into her mouth. Elide laughed loudly, “Baby, eat your food properly. C’mon, you know better.” 

Stella grinned around the sticky-sweet mess and chewed thoroughly before swallowing. Elide took the plate and cut the food up into bite-sized pieces before passing it back. The four-year old abandoned her fork in favour of her wee hands and stuffed as many chocolatey-mapley-buttery pieces as she could into her mouth. 

“Good gods, child,” her mother said. “You’ll choke.” Delight surged through her at the sound of Stella’s gleeful laughter, albeit muffled. She grabbed a napkin and reached out, holding her daughter’s chin hostage as she wiped the mess away. “I am so happy your father is coming back, he’ll finally take you off my hands, you gremlin.” 

Stella gasped loudly and wrenched her chin free, “Mama, can we go to the airplane place? I want to surprise Daddy. Pretty please?” 

She made her eyes big and wide, sticking her bottom lip out. Elide cracked immediately, “I think he’d like that, wouldn’t he?” Stella nodded with such vigour Elide half-thought her head would fly off. “We’ll do that later, Stel. Why don’t you finish your breakfast?” 

Stella needed no further prompting. 

 ☽ ☼ ☾

His bag was the second bag out. Lorcan easily slung the black duffel over his shoulder. He made his way out of the baggage claim and around fellow passengers numbly awaiting their belongings. 

Lorcan thought about pausing, his fingers twitching to grab his camera and freeze the moment. There was something slightly surreal about it all. A voice told him to stop, to do it, but the sweet, pure voice of his baby calling him home was louder. 

He was still listening to miss star’s jamzzz and clicked the ball of the piercing in his tongue against his teeth to the beats. I’m Not A Loser by the Descendents’ played at maximum volume as he strode across the scuffed and dingy linoleum. 

Vaguely, he thought he might’ve heard someone calling for him. Pausing, Lorcan half-pulled a headphone off his ear. He looked around, narrowing his eyes in confusion at the sea of strangers. 

“Daddy!” 

“Kid?” 

A wee one shot out through the passing crowd. Her hair, jet black and thick, curled out of her assumedly once-tight and neat braids. Her eyes were thin and dark, so rich and depthless, framed by long lashes. The little lass seemed to have a piece of the sun setting her warm, coppery complexion aglow from beneath. “ *Até , hi-hi!” 

Stella launched herself up and Lorcan dropped his bag to catch her. He held her tight to his chest, one hand cupping the back of her head. “Tiny, Creator above. I missed you so much, my darling moon.” 

“Hi, Daddy,” Stella whispered, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck. “It’s nice to see you.” 

Lorcan laughed raspily at her formal greeting, “Wow, so fancy, miss Star. ‘It’s nice to see you’, really? You’re killing me, Tiny.” 

She giggled, shaking her head as she pulled back, “No, I’m not fancy, Daddy. I’m tough ,” she snarled, baring her teeth intimidatingly. 

Lorcan laughed again, his head tipping back, “The toughest .” 

Stella beamed and abruptly stopped, an outraged gasp escaping her. She grabbed his face and pulled his head back down. When she felt his stubble, Stella Luna pulled a face, “Daddy, you have to shave. It’s scratchy.” 

“What, I thought I looked nice like this, babe,” he said, shifting her to his side. “It’s that bad?” 

She stared at him for a while before slowly shaking her head, “No… it’s ok, Daddy. Mama likes it like that.” Stella laid her head on his shoulder. Lorcan smiled and held her tightly again, his eyes closed. 

For a long moment, neither said a word, until Stella became restless and started peering out around her. “There’s so many people, Daddy.”

“There is,” he agreed. Lorcan brushed something from her cheek and Stella batted his hand away. “So, you learn to drive while I was away, or something?”

“No! I’m still little , Daddy,” Stella Luna corrected him with a giggle. “Mama drived me.” She pointed vaguely towards the entrance, “Mama’s over there and she said, ‘Stella, hold my hand and stay close ‘till we see your dad, ok?’ but you’re so tall and I sawed your head so I ran and didn’t listen to Mama.” Gasping softly, Stella put her hands over her mouth, “Oh no. Mama! Mama, hello? I am here,” she curled her arm over his shoulder as she craned her head to look around. “Where she go?”

Lorcan looked around as well, loving and hating the way his pulse sped up at the prospect of seeing her . “I don’t know where your ma is, maybe she- oh,” Lorcan cut himself off as he saw a familiar flash of long black hair through the crowd. “There she is.”

Through the throngs of passengers and travelers, Lorcan saw a fair skinned, petite woman. Her hair was dark, streaked with purple, and fell to her hips. She left it be in its natural waves, but had it cut into a blunt, pointed fringe that framed her heart-shaped face. Her round, plush lips were painted deep, nearly black, red. They curled into a teasing grin, “Hey, Salvaterre, I see you’ve finally decided to rejoin the rabble! Was the tour too preppy for you, what with all the first class flights and champagne?” 

He laughed and reached out to flick her nose, “Shut your mouth, Lochan. I’m common folk for life.” Elide laughed and Lorcan smiled, “Fuck, I can’t believe that you two came to pick me up.” He pulled Elide into a hug, something finally settling inside him as he held his girls for the first time in two months. 

“No, no swearing, Daddy,” Stella chastised him, her frown disapproving, “Fuck is a bad word. A very bad word and we’re only allowed to say it when we listen to music.”

Elide laughed and slipped her arm around his waist, “A wretched word, really. It’s like you want our daughter to become a menace to society.” 

“Oh, really? And what if our daughter wants to be a menace to society?” 

Stella Luna nodded, sticking her chin out, “Yeah, what if I want to be a menace to society, mama?”

Elide shook her head at the two of them and narrowed her eyes at him, “This is your doing, you know, Lorcan.” Oh… how his heart stopped as his name tumbled from her lips. Lorcan struggled to breathe for a moment and Elide’s warm grin faltered. “Lor? You alright?” 

“Y-yeah, just jet-lag,” he said quickly. Lorcan averted his eyes from Elide’s concerned gaze. Stella Luna wiggled, whining slightly. When she was set down on her feet, she grabbed Lorcan’s hand in one of hers and Elide’s in the other.

“Let’s go!” she shouted, tugging them along with all her might. At fifteen kilos and a solid one-hundred centimetres, it wasn’t much, but her determination made up for it. Over her head, Elide shot Lorcan a smile and a wink. 

Lorcan rolled his eyes and chuckled. Stella skipped and hopped along to Elide’s car. Lorcan tossed his duffel in the trunk as Elide helped Stella into her booster seat and he walked over to the passenger seat. “Daddy,” Stella said, “did you know my birthday is in two months? That means I’m gonna be five whole years.”

“Wow, you’re going to be so old ,” he said dramatically, smiling in the rearview mirror when Stelle’s jaw dropped open and her eyes widened. 

“I don’t want to be old. Old people are yucky. Like you and mom.” Elide and Lorcan looked at each other and burst into gutsy laughter at their daughter’s words. Stella sniffed primly and turned her face to the side, “It’s not funny to be old. Being old means you die. Do you want to die, Daddy?” 

“If I die, I become a ghost and I’ll haunt people,” he said. 

“Would you haunt me ?” the girl asked, her eyes filled with morbid curiosity. 

Elide huffed a laugh. She turned the car on and smoothly pulled out of her parking spot to the freeway that would take them back to Orynth. “You two are ridiculous. Stella, baby, no one’s haunting you.” 

“Yeah, except for me,” Lorcan ever-so-helpfully stated. 

As Elide exclaimed in annoyance, Stella giggled uncontrollably. The dark haired woman couldn’t help but laugh along and the sound of their laughter soothed the dull ache of missing them. 

☽ ☼ ☾

“ Até, ‘m tired,” said Stella, trailing up to Lorcan. She was all ready for bed, dressed in her Jack Skellington pyjamas. Her dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese had been devoured an hour ago. Lorcan was in Elide’s kitchen, washing the dishes as Elide worked on a sketch and Stella checked her backpack over and over and over again. She was not going to be caught unprepared for her first day of kindergarten. 

He rinsed off the iron skillet and placed it in the dish rack. Lorcan dried his hands and turned to his daughter, who held her hands up expectantly. With a fond smile, Lorcan scooped her up and asked, “Time for bed? Did you brush your teeth yet?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Daddy, don’t forgot Mr. Ribbit.” Stella said softly, already falling asleep. She clutched at his shoulders, a yawn splitting her little face in half. 

His grin softened and he kissed the top of her head, “Can’t forget your frog, now, can we?” There came a low chuckle from the living room. Elide walked over to them, her pencil stuck in her hair and carrying the fuzzy green animal. She passed the animal to Stella and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Lorcan offered her his hand, “Come with us?” 

Elide nodded and slipped her hand in his. They walked to Stella's room together. She breathed evenly and deeply, her eyes closed. Her lashes brushed the tops of her rosy cheeks. Lorcan set her down with care and tucked her blankets around her. “Good night, my darling moon,” he said softly - in his native tongue - and brushed her hair back before it could tickle the tip of her button nose.

“Night-night,” Stella whispered, her eyes cracking open. “Are you gonna come drive me with mama tomorrow to school?” She snuggled into her pile of pillows and held her blanket up for Salem to settle in beside her. The cat curled up against her and purred softly as he flicked his fluffy tail over her protectively.

“Yes, I am.” 

She nodded, “Good. That’s good, Daddy.” 

“Alright, Tiny,” he laughed softly, “go to sleep, yeah? You’ve had a big day.” He kissed her forehead and stood up to let Elide say good night. 

Elide sat down on the edge of the mattress and cupped Stella’s face in her hand, her words soft and too low for Lorcan to hear. She too chuckled and kissed Stella Luna’s cheek, then got up and stepped over to Lorcan. 

They closed the door and silently walked back to the living room. Lorcan sat down on the couch and rubbed his eyes. Elide curled up in the opposite corner and smiled, “Tired?” 

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his head back against the couch. “Fuck me, I have to go home.” 

“Why don’t you just stay here tonight? You’ll have to come back tomorrow anyway,” Elide said, her voice measured. 

Lorcan looked at her, but her face was turned to the side. “Are you sure, El? I honestly don’t mind and I haven’t been to my place in a while.” 

She glanced over at him, “No, c’mon, it’s fine. It’s not like we’ve never done it.” 

“Done what?” 

Elide shot him a flat look, “Slept in the same bed.” 

Lorcan choked and his eyes widened, “El- what? I was just going to take the–” 

“I swear to Anneith if you say ‘couch’, I’ll strangle you. I’m not making you sleep on my couch when you’ve been gone all summer.” Elide stood up and walked to her bedroom, her hips swinging enticingly. Lorcan quickly looked away. “Besides, my bed is big. I promise I won’t give you my cooties.” 

He snapped his teeth and crossed the room to join her. “Fine. I’ll stay.” 

Elide crossed her arms over her chest and smiled cockily, “I knew you would.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lorcan said, pulling her into his arms. Her body melted into his. They fit perfectly together. They always had. “You’re always right, aren’t you, princess?” 

Elide hid her smile and slipped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed above his heart. For a long moment, neither said a word. Then, Elide pressed her forehead against him and whispered. She couldn’t speak any louder, fearing that the tears she’d held back for years would finally spill over. “It’s nice to have you home, Lor.” 

“It’s nice to be home,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back. 

“It wasn’t the same without you.” It’s never the same without you.

He closed his eyes, hating the tears that blurred his vision. “Wasn’t the same without you, either, Lochan.”

 ☽ ☼ ☾

an: ahh ! it’s here ! a few things will b different for this wip, so i just want to let u all kno: 

- chapters will b posted once a week on mondays, at 8pm pacific standard time

- there will b flashback chapters !! 

- there will b depictions of recreational drug (marijuana) and alcohol consumption - i will put warnings for these n if there r any other triggers u would like me to warn, pls let me know

- if u want to b added/removed from the tag list, just send me an ask - it is rlly no trouble at all <3

translation: *Até: Father/Dad in Lakota (i headcanon lorcan to be native american - speficially Oglala Lakota. this will b more apparent/relevant in future chapters. i call his tribe 'the ozuye'. 'ozuye' means war-party in lakota)

songs played in chapter: (by order of appearance) 1. Pink + White - Frank Ocean 2. Dreaming - Blondie 3. I'm Not A Loser - Descendents

@mythicaitt​​ @werewolffprince​​ @schmlip-scribble​​ ​ @the-regal-warrior​​ @ladyverena​​ @ttakeitbacknoww​​ @shyvioletcat​​ @alifletcher2012​​ @tswaney17​​ @ourbooksuniverse​​  @flora-and-fae​​ @thesirenwashere​​ @queenofxhearts​​ @maastrash​​ @mynewdreamwasyou​​ @cursebreaker29​​ @empress-ofbloodshed​​ @b00kworm​​ @hizqueen4life​​ @silversprings98​​ @amren-courtofdreams​​ @minaidss​​ @superspiritfestival​​ @sanakapoor​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​​ @spyofthenightcourt​​  @thegoddessofyou​​ @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx​​ @claralady​​ @neonhellas​​ @darlinminds​​ @readingismyonlyhobby​​ @autophobiaxx​​ @silversprings28​​ @myshadowsingeraz​​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​​ @elriel4life​​ @always-in-a-daydream​​ @jlinez​​ @ladywitchling​​ @mariamuses​ @darklesmylove​ @adelzd-bookblr​

[ororowrites]

By the Open Fire - Yahya x Black Character

I’m getting back into the writing spirit and decided to write a little Christmas one-shot about my latest celebrity crush. Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa and Happy Holidays! 

Warnings: Very, very, light smut, fluffy as hell

Word Count: 2,664

Six months was entirely too long to be away from the love of her life. 

Candace tapped the tip of her pen against the blank page, hoping her writer’s block would magically disappear. Being an actress was so much easier than trying to write a novel. Why didn’t Candace just stick to her day job? Since the pandemic began, she was trying her hand at other talents and writing a novel seemed to be the one wish on her wish list that stood out. On top of Yahya being out of the country filming for most of the year, Candace was in search of a way to fight a depression that was on the brink of flooding her life. Her filming project had come to a halt until 2021 and she was stuck in her Manhattan apartment until it was safe to come out again.

Yahya would be home in a couple of days and Candace was looking forward to his arrival. So many months a part made her heart ache and the heart below her waist. After hundreds of facetime calls, numerous texts a day and a few Zoom sessions that included their shared friends, her man would be there in the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Candace cursed under her breath. The block wasn’t budging, forcing the actress to give up and retreat to the kitchen for wine. Her phone rang, interrupting her attempt to brainstorm for the next chapter in her book. “You always call at the perfect time,” she groaned at her twin sister on the other end of the line. 

“Candy, you can never just say hello like a normal human,” Trinity laughed. “But did mama call you with the latest gossip?” 

“No, but she’s been texting me all damn day. I’ve been busy so I haven’t checked them yet. Wassup,” she pressed, knowing the gossip was most likely church related. Their mother had been an usher at the same church since they were nine. 

“Girl,” Trinity exclaimed, before explaining the recent Chicago gossip. “Mrs. Jackson got caught cheating with James. Someone saw them out at the park together, kissing up on each other and all that.” 

“Ewww, in this panoramic,” Candace gagged. “I’m not shocked though. That old floozy was always flirting with daddy and almost made mama beat her ass one Easter Sunday. Remember that?” 

Trinity cackled, “Boooooy, mama was about to peel that woman’s skin back and break her neck. Ol’ girl was trying it that day and knows she is too old to still be acting like that. But enough about Florence, what have you been up to today? Ain’t your man on his way back to New York?” 

 Candace rolled her eyes because she knew where this conversation was going. Her sister had four children, leaving Candace the only childless sibling left in the pack of five children. 

“He’ll be back in two days and then we’re going to Colorado for Christmas. Since we can’t gather for the holidays, figured we’d go somewhere where we can safely distance ourselves but still get away. You know,” Candace said, swirling the wine around in her glass before taking a sip. 

“Mmmhhhhmmm. You gon’ get knocked up in them mountains,” Trinity added in a serious tone. “You two renting out a cabin or something up there?” 

“Ain’t nobody getting knocked up until she has a ring on her finger. Yes, we’re getting a cabin and just chillin’ out. Yahya has been working and needs a break. I’ve been....lonely.” Candace paced her kitchen, trying to think of an excuse to end this call before her twin irritated her soul. 

“Ya’ll haven’t seen each in months, he’s going to tear--” 

“Trin!” One major difference between the two of them was the lack of filter on Trinity’s part. The woman would say anything in front of anyone. “Look, I need to go straighten up before before Yah gets here. I’ll talk to you later?” 

Trinity sighed loudly on the other end because she knew her sister was rushing her off the call. Not liking people in her relationship business bugged Trinity because she was the nosey twin that wanted to know everything, much like their mother. “Well at least you won’t be needing to replace the batteries in that vibrator any time soon since the real Dr. Manhattan is back in the picture.” Before Candace could reply to the vulgar comment, Trinity squeezed out a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up. 

“Nasty ass,” Candace rolled her eyes and placed the phone back in the pocket of her jeans. 

The next two days were the same song. Candace’s brain did not want to focus on writing, so she eventually gave up and settled on online shopping to ease her frustration. The night her beautiful man was supposed to return, the actress fell asleep on the couch. His flight had been delayed by a couple of hours and he didn’t make it home until 3AM. 

He quietly entered the apartment, knowing Candace could never stay awake past twelve. The 6′3 actor, tip toed across the floor doing his best ballerina impression. Light snores could be heard over the infomercial playing on the television. She looked peaceful, almost child-like curled up on the sofa under her favorite coral throw. Yahya slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Candace’s pouted lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling under her breath and fell back into a slumber. 

“Baby,” he sung into her ear, placing another kiss on her cheek. 

“Hmm.” Candace finally opened her eyes to see her Christmas gift standing right in front of her. Even with blurred vision, the smell of his cologne was a dead giveaway. She screeched and scurried to her feet to throw her arms around Yahya’s neck. Naturally, her legs wrapped around his waist as he rocked them back and forth. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” he grunted, peppering Candace’s face in kisses. “My baaaaaaby,” Yahya sang as they fell to the sofa in a heap of long limbs. “It smells good in here, what you cook?” 

“Negro, you’re always looking for the food. Ol’ hungry ass,” Candace shook her head and playfully punched her lover’s bicep. “But, I saved you some fried rice and shrimp...homemade because that’s the only dish I’m good at.” 

“Oh, that’s not the only dish you’re good at,” he bit his lip, pulling Candace into a slow, passionate kiss, showing her how much he really missed her. With both of them being in the industry, they understood the heartache that came with being in a relationship and not seeing your significant other for weeks or months at a time. In this case, their time away from each other was extended due to the pandemic. “Mmmmm,” Yahya hummed into Candace’s lips before pulling away. He wanted to save the X-rated loving for their trip when he would have more time to rest and beat the severe jet lag from flying across the world for 12 hours. 

“We should get some food in this belly, babe,” Candace couldn’t contain the big cheesy grin that made her cheeks hurt. 

------- 

Christmas Eve 

Toni Braxton’s sultry voice filled the cabin as Yahya finished pouring the wine for their night cap. They had a busy day on the slopes trying not to kill themselves or break any bones. 

“Baby, where your fine ass at,” Yahya called out, making his way to the living room. The fireplace crackled, sending waves of heat throughout the cabin’s living area. The sun had set, but the mountains were still glowing against the dark sky. Their view was impeccable and the mood was set for a night of bonding and loving. “Candy, don’t make me come get you.” He warned playfully, sitting in front of the fire on their floor palette they had built earlier that night. 

“What was that,” Candace teased, stopping in the doorway getting a front row view of Yahya’s bare upper half. His back muscles bulged as he tended to the fire. 

“You back there sleeping, old lady,” he asked, with his back still turned away from her. 

“No, I was back there wrapping one last gift,” she replied, her voice dropping an octave prompting Yahya to turn around. 

His eyes almost fell out of his head, “Damn girl.” Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he moved forward, inspecting the gift that was screaming to be unwrapped. “This all for me?” 

“Every inch of it.” Her words almost came out as a moan. The way this man was eyeing her had moisture pooling between her legs. The fancy lingerie wouldn’t last long at this rate. Words became an afterthought when actions began to do all the talking. All it took was a soul turning kiss to send them both to the floor on their palette in front of the fireplace. Candace couldn’t tell if the fire had her skin tingling or the anticipation of having his hands rubbing over the most sensitive parts of her body. The wine and fruits sitting on the mantle quickly became an afterthought. 

For minutes, they enjoyed exploring each other and parts they hadn’t touched in months. Yahya was nestled between Candace’s thighs, both of them breathless and horny. Candace’s lace get up was quickly removed and thrown to the side. She giggled when his lips grazed her belly button, those giggles soon turning into pants and whispered obscenities. With gentle licks, he coaxed her clit out of its hood.

 Toys were fun but they weren’t the real thing and oh did she miss the real thing. See, the real thing knew exactly how to pull her close to the edge before sending her back. Her man’s skilled tongue sank deeper drawing intricate patterns in her center as she massaged the top of his head with her fingertips. 

Candace’s breath hitched in her throat and her thighs shook awaiting the impending release. “Jesus,” she moaned as her body suddenly felt light and her center thumped. 

“Still as sweet as I remember,” he grinned, kissing Candace’s inner thigh. 

Another track on their Toni Braxton Christmas playlist began to play and Yahya rested his head on Candace’s stomach. Time was precious and Yahya didn’t want to waste an ounce of the rare quiet moment they had. Soon, they’d both be filming again and the world would be back to normal. 

“What’s on your mind, baby,” Candace asked, her heart and breath back to a steady rhythm. 

“I don’t spend enough time with you. At least not lately,” he began. “I knew what I was getting into when we were back in school. Still makes me feel bad though.” 

“Yah, I enjoy all the moments that we do get to spend together. You’ve been working your ass off this year. Yes, I would love more times like this but we should also celebrate all your accomplishments. Because you’re doing the damn thang and I’m so proud of you.” 

“Thank you. You always say the right shit to get me together,” he chuckled. “Sometimes a nigga just be in his feelings and I missed the hell out of you those six months.” 

“Yeah, six months has never gone by that slowly. You should see my credit card statements. I’ve never purchased that many sex toys in my life,” Candace covered her face with her arm. 

“Word? Well.... you won’t be needing those sex toys for awhile.” 

A smirk formed on her lips when she felt him bump against her thigh, “No, no, you just sit back and relax. I got this.” Sitting up, Candace placed a hand on Yahya’s chest, prompting him to switch her spots. 

“You are beautiful,” Yahya’s eyes gleamed. After all these years, he could still make Candace blush like a little school girl. “Don’t hide that smile, girl.” His large hands massaged her thighs as she eased him inside of her. 

They both exhaled, letting Toni Braxton serenade them through the night.

--------- 

Christmas Morning

They had finally made it to bed and got a few hours of sleep before Christmas morning arrived and it was time to get up for their next day of adventures. 

First, they needed to re-fuel their bodies after the festivities that took place the night before in front of the fireplace and in the bedroom. The shower also got some of their loving that morning. Candace could hear Yahya singing his own version of Joy to the World while whipping up his famous oatmeal. That man never knew the words to any song but sung his own words with all the confidence in the world. 

“Yah, do you ever know the words,” Candace questioned, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing a bowl from one of the kitchen shelves. 

“Nope,” he replied in a matter of fact tone. “It’s the Abdul-Mateen version.”

“Uh huh, sure.” 

Over breakfast, they continued joking about Yahya’s talent of making up his own versions of songs. Joy and love was on full display. They had always been the couple to roast each other and the next minute adore each other like the two biggest saps in the world.. Their relationship was built on a strong friendship they developed while they were in film school before reconnecting a few years later. 

They walked a short distance to one of the coffee shops near their cabin to grab hot chocolate. It was a chilly 45 degrees, but to avoid sitting in the shop, they walked back to their rental, taking a scenic route that Yahya suggested. 

“If we get lost or I end up falling off one of these mountains, I hope my family doesn’t kill you,” Candace joked, admiring the beautiful scene before them. 

“Oh, I know where we are. I was out here early yesterday morning trying to find the perfect spot,” Yahya replied. 

“Huh, perfect spot for what?” 

He didn’t answer right away and instead reached for Candace’s hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Something I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.” Placing his cup on one of the rocks, Yahya pulled a box from his pocket and got down on one knee. 

“What...what...” For once, Candace was speechless and caught completely off guard. 

“It’s hard as hell to surprise you and I’ve been trying to think of the perfect time to do this without your nosey ass finding out.” Tears began to flow down Candace’s cheeks. “We’ve been at this for a few years and I’ve had some of my best moments with you by my side. I want to make what we have forever.” He opened the small box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring. “Say love... would you marry me?” 

Being the goofball that she was, Candace laughed between her tears “You’re trying to get me pregnant on this trip, aren’t you?” 

“Well that can be arranged if you say yes.” 

“Ye...yes, of course!” Her vision blurred as Yahya slid the rock on her finger and stood to his feet to kiss his future bride. Moments later Yahya’s phone rang with an incoming Facetime call. 

“Hey Trinity, hey moms,” Yahya cheesed, turning his phone to share the screen with Candace. “Looks like you two aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

“She said yes,” Trinity screamed, jumping up and down with their mother. “Aye, aye, ayyyeeeeee.” 

Still in complete shock and happiness overflowing, Candace shrieked, “Wait, you two knew about this the entire time!” 

“Yep! It’s been burning my ass to keep this secret from you all this time,” Trinity teased, sticking out her tongue. “He took mom with him to ring shop last year and everything.” 

“Welcome to the family, son. Congratulations baby,” Ms. Fredrick sang, clapping for the happy couple on the other end of the call. 

“Now, I hope you two are using protection out there because having a baby before the wedding is-” 

“Trinity,” Candace called out, shaking her head. 

They should have followed Trinity’s advice because approximately two months later..... 

Hope you all enjoyed! This is the first piece I’ve written in a year. I have no idea if I’ m going to continue the stories I began before my hiatus, yet. But, we will explore that in the coming year! Who knows, we may get more Candace and Yahya depending on how hard writer’s block slaps me. May the new year bring you all peace and joy! 

[sooibian]

Stranger Things (1)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader ft. Kyungsoo

Genre: Fluff, meet cute, non-idol AU

Description: While waiting to receive Kyungsoo at the airport you run into an insufferable someone - Byun Baekhyun. Despite yourself, you are unable to resist his charms.

A/N: No BaekSoo, no life. Know BaekSoo, know life. This is a highly self indulgent oneshot because I simply cannot resist bobohu anymore. Also if I edit, I’ll never upload. So please, bear with this unedited mess and bad humor (: and try not to hate on OC! 

Word Count: ~ 2k

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four (Final)

gif credits: @x-exo​

“He’s a lawyer”, you tilted your head to the side with your nose in the air, foolishly waving your platinum band bearing hand in his general direction. Byun Baekhyun, the man you’d met barely thirty minutes ago, had managed to bring out your inner “chatty Cathy” while eyeing you with the slightest of the smirks tugged at his lips. It was nauseating. The smirk, his bouffant persona, the way he slurped his ramen, his unkempt fake blond hair - he insisted on running a hand though the annoying yet bountiful tousle ever so often  - disheveling it further. One glance at his showy Rolex and you’d written him off as a wealthy fop. Yet, here you were, seated in front of him, trying to make sense of the situation. 

Kyungsoo’s flight was delayed by over an hour. Although you wanted nothing more than to find the inviting comfort of your bed, you decided to keep your promise of picking him up from the airport. Even if it meant spending time with this strange (literally and figuratively) man. You were no night owl. Therefore, you needed the caffeine fix to stay conscious so you huddled to the coffee shop closest to the arrival gate only to run into him again. The single vacant seat happened to be on his tiny table which he graciously put up for offer - I’m Byun Baekhyun. And I don’t bite! Apart from the unbridled desire to prick his inflated ego with a needle, you realized you’d come on a bit too strong earlier when he mistakenly put his hand on yours while going for the same copy of Forbes in the magazine kiosk. Was he apologetic then? No. Not really. But you didn’t have to pull an ugly face and call him a creep. Sure, lack of sleep made you crabby but you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. It wasn’t your best moment. 

You took the seat because (a) never had a person made you feel so conflicted about them. Always too quick to judge, within a few moments you could tell whether you liked someone or absolutely didn’t care about them. But with him you honestly couldn’t figure out whether you loathed him or were in absolute awe of his unabashed demeanor (b) you wanted to make absolutely unnecessary amends. 

“What was his name, again?”, stretching and yawning he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders widened to full glory. Lazily, he ran a hand over his chest. Realization hit you like a truck. You were blatantly staring and he’d caught you in the act. Your eyes met his and it made you want to punch that stupid, now very prominent, smirk off of his face. It was time for damage control. Attack, after all, is the best defense.

“Looks like you’re bored. I shall stop”, you said tersely, moving to quickly grab your things.

“It’s 2:45 a.m. Can you blame me?”, he yanked your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his back pocket, “Continue the story”

“Yahhhhh, give me back my wallet”, you glowered at him.

“Story first”, he sang pulling the wallet out and waving it at you. “Yahhh!”, as you lunged forward, he instinctively drew further back. Frowning, he suddenly ducked under the table.

“What - what happened?”, a quizzical expression clouded your face.

“I’m looking for something”, he mumbled rising gradually. Was that a pout?

“Yah, I can tell. What are you looking for?”

“Your manners. You seem to have suddenly dropped them somewhere”

 You felt your face flame, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi!”

“Please, you can call me oppa”

“I may be older, you know?”

“Your cheeks tell an entirely different story”, he chuckled

Fuming, you untied your hair in a desperate attempt to frame your perfectly round face, “Doh Kyungsoo”, you deadpanned.

“Byun Baekhyun”, confused, he pointed at himself.

“Doh Kyungsoo, my fiance”

“Ah… Sounds as boring as ‘civil lawyer’”

“How did you know?? I don’t remember mentioning -”

“Ha! So he is a civil lawyer! So what do your dates look like? Haunting worn down museums? Marvelling over runes?”, he swayed dreamily, eyelids fluttering.

Your saccharine smile didn’t reach your eyes, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi, what do your dates with your girl look like?”

You were surprised to see a genuine smile grace his face. Albeit unconsciously, you mirrored him. It was warm and luminous, his smile, and you were enchanted.

“Ahem”, the ridiculous smirk came back on, “Dates with my Yoona?”

So, there is a girl. You felt a slight pang of jealousy. You prayed for it to not reflect in your eyes.

“My Yoona?” you gagged dramatically and he responded with an equally dramatic loud sigh.

“Let’s see….long walks by the Han river, a little after sunset.. We walk all the way up to the Namsan Tower. She looks radiant in the moonlight… just my Yoona and me...relaxing...chilling”, he smiled like a heavily infatuated thirteen year old.

“That’s a really long walk. Oppa doesn’t have a driver’s license?”, you chided.

He guffawed, “Guess you and Mr. - ?

“Doh! Mr. Doh of Doh, Gom and Associates!”, 

“Yes, you and Mr. Doh of Doh - Gom - and Associates”, his words slow, deliberate, “wouldn’t recognize romance if it danced naked in front of you. And that platinum band”, he paused, slowly shaking his head.

You drew your hand close to your chest defensively, “What about it?”

“So… a very close friend of mine got engaged recently and I went ring shopping with him. It was an intense drill. But now I know all there is to know about the right cut, hallmark, color, purity, you get the drift. And that”, he took a piteous glance at the ring.

“I could really do without the condescension”

“I’m sorry, but it looks thrift store bought”

“Baekhyun-ssi, your limited experience may have falsely led you into believing that you’re a connoisseur of platinum. But if you care to look past your high-end store shopping spree, you’ll see that this is heirloom”

“Does it have P-950 stamped on it?”

Your glare shut him up and he raised his hands in surrender. Pouting. Again.

You gawked at him in pure admiration. How could a man like that be capable of the most endearing pouts was beyond you.

“Look, I don’t know if you care about Kyungsoo but the flight should’ve landed by now and I don’t want to keep my friend waiting after a red eye flight… so”, he got up to leave and you hurriedly followed suit, “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you”

Your hand met his in a firm handshake which neither of you cared to break for a good thirty seconds. You knew you’d never see this man again and you felt a certain unpleasantness wash over you at the thought. 

His captivating grin made an appearance, accelerating your heartbeat.

You exited the coffee shop first and when you turned around to look for him, he was gone.

***

You greeted Kyungsoo with a punch in the shoulder, “You’re late”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me into the cockpit”, he said pinching your ear with one hand and twisting your arm with the other.

You successfully managed to wiggle of his strong grasp and attack him with a bear hug, “I’ve missed you”

He softly patted your head before your show of affection started to smother him. Breaking out of your hug he teased, “Tsk, tsk, you’ve grown soft”

“Can you blame me? My best friend moved to a strange city to farm! He’s not been around much to toughen me up” You didn’t care that he hated it. You leaned in to hug him, anyway, “any progress on the land dispute?”

“I’ll be seeing a lawyer for it”, he indulged you by continuing to gently sway you. Apparently, he’d missed you, too.

“Hmm...a civil lawyer”, you contemplated. 

“What’s that?”

“Nothing”, you sighed pulling away from him to call a cab, “When are you seeing this lawyer”

“Right now”

“What? Kyungsoo! It’s 4 in the morning! Can’t this wait?

“No”, he deftly locked your phone, “because he also happens to be a friend of mine and he’s here and he has offered to drive us home”

“He’s here?”

Kyungsoo forced your head to take a 180 degree turn.

You froze at the sight of the blond haired man standing in front of you. Your eyes barely short of pleading, you grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand lacing your fingers with his.

Baekhyun chuckled, “Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you were engaged!”

“Engaged? No, I’m not engaged!” Kyungsoo's voice now a several notches louder.

You were quick to nudge Kyungsoo’s arm with your elbow and snicker softly, “He likes to joke when he’s tired...We’re all tired. Won’t you bring your car now, Baekhyun-ssi?”

“You two know each other?” Nothing made sense to Kyungsoo anymore.

Your feeble No was drowned by Baekhyun’s loud Yes.

“Anyway..”, Kyungsoo introduced you to Baekhyun as his best friend and it made you want to be on the next expedition to Mars. 

“And this is Byun Baekhyun. My elementary school friend”. Baekhyun handed you a business card which you accepted with trembling fingers.

Byun, Park and Associates

Byun Baekhyun

Partner

LL.M.

You were mentally prepared to go on a solo expedition to Neptune and freeze to death.

“We lost touch in high school only to meet again at Jongdae’s engagement party”

Platinum, Baekhyun mouthed when your guilt ridden eyes met his.

“And he has very kindly agreed to help me out with my case”

***

“What- What the hell was that?”, Kyungsoo hissed.

“I don’t know… at first I didn’t want him to think I was available. So I started to spin a web of lies. Then I was curious to see how far I could go, you know, without faltering. Besides, you always keep calling me a bad liar. He was just...in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess…”, you let out a huge yawn.

Kyungsoo flicked your forehead. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to be your guinea pig? It had to be my lawyer? The airport is swarming with people - ”

“AND viruses!”, you adjusted your mask pointedly, “Yet, here I am. For your ungrateful ass!”

“Soo! HELP”, you cried.

“Forget this ever happened. You’re never going to see him again, anyway”, he was dismissive of your plea.

“Soo, but I want to”, you said in a small voice.

Kyungsoo was too dumbfounded to speak. His eyes did all the talking.

“I want to see him again”, you avoided his eyes.

Still, nothing.

“It’s a crisis situation, Soo!”, defeated, your face slumped into his chest, “I think I’m in love with a man who apparently has a girlfriend and most probably thinks that I’m a pathological liar.”

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Scott Tracy, The Hood (Thunderbirds), Captain Rigby, Havoc Additional Tags: Angst, Mistaken Identity, No HEA, killing in self defense Series: Part 2 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Scott has always told Kayo that International Rescue’s business is to save people, not to catch the bad guys. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Scott that when he broke his own rule, things went completely awry.

This is for my "Bad Thing Happen Bingo Card." The prompt here was Scott and Killing in Self Defense. It was requested by @thunderbird-one-ai 

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

Scott had lost count of the number of times that he had had to tell Kayo that International Rescue was not in the business of catching criminals. That was a job for law enforcement. International Rescue’s job was, first and foremost, to save lives.

Perhaps this was the reason Scott found himself justifying his presence at an abandoned complex where he had just seen the Hood’s vehicle enter after his latest scheme. He had stolen an experimental substance in an attempt to pawn it off to the highest bidder.

The Hood doesn’t know how to handle such a volatile compound. He just stole it for the money. How much damage could he do unintentionally if it was mishandled? Scott would be remiss if he didn’t at least attempt to stop the Hood before some sort of disaster befell everyone.

The excuse felt weak even to Scott, but he couldn’t think about that now. He needed to be focused on the task at hand. He’d take care of this and then use the flight back to the island to come up with a better excuse.

As he circled around for a place to land Thunderbird One, he was surprised to see a GDF ship landed in a barren stretch of land a small distance from the compound. He’d only just alerted John to the pursuit and he hadn’t quite expected the GDF to be quite so Johnny-on-the-spot. He landed just next to the GDF ship, descending from Thunderbird One and coming face to face with a Rigby that seemed just as surprised to see him.

“I’m surprised to see you here this quickly, Captain,” Scott said, the teasing in his voice good natured. “John only just told me he was getting in contact with you.” Rigby’s shock disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared on his features and he shrugged.

“What can I say? I was in the neighborhood. And it’s not every day I get to beat a Thunderbird to the punch,” he said, clapping Scott on the shoulder. Scott ducked out of the familiar gesture with an eye roll.

“Let’s save the celebrations and gloating until the end of the mission, hmm?” Scott said. Rigby’s demeanor shifted to all business, knowing Scott was right. “I was able to trace and follow the Hood’s signal here. He’s somewhere in the compound just east of here.” Rigby nodded.

“John said as much. Isn’t nabbing criminals more my jurisdiction, though?” he asked.

“I won’t tell Kayo if you don’t,” Scott said and Rigby offered short chuckle in response.

“Well,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to show International Rescue how things are done.” He turned to finish arming himself while Scott rolled his eyes at the captain’s back. The man had a chip on his shoulder that quite often rubbed Scott the wrong way. Not, he supposed, that he had any room to throw stones. He had heard plenty of people say the same about him when they didn’t think he could hear them.

He didn’t let himself dwell on that thought for too long, as Captain Rigby turned around. Rigby motioned Scott over to a set of computers at the back of the GDF ship, pulling up a map.

“From the scan I was able to do coming into the area, it looks like there are six extant buildings,” he said. Scott nodded. He had noticed as much from the air. Scott indicated one of the buildings on the screen.

“I saw the Hood’s vehicle going into an underground garage near this one,” he said. Rigby nodded.

“It’s as good a place to start as any,” Rigby said.

“Then let’s move.” Scott turned and led the way toward the compound. Rigby stayed just behind Scott as they moved. Scott could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising as they moved closer. Something ominous hung in the air, a heaviness surrounding the building that set Scott on edge. Perhaps it was the idea of another face to face confrontation with the Hood that set him so ill at ease. It didn’t help that the seemingly abandoned compound felt more like a warehouse belonging to a serial killer than the remnants of an old industrial plant.

Whatever it was, Scott pushed it to the back of his mind. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not when the Hood was somewhere inside. And where the Hood was, the Chaos Crew couldn’t be far behind. He had to keep his wits about him. Scott paused as the compound came into view. While infiltrating was not going to be any form of rocket science, it wasn’t a situation he had hoped to find himself in. Next to him, Rigby frowned deeply.

“Awful lot of entry and exit points,” he said. “We probably stand a better chance of covering all the exits if we split up.” This time, it was Scott’s turn to frown at the suggestion.

“We don’t know if he is alone in there. If we split up and the Chaos Crew is in hiding in there already, it’s easier to overwhelm one than two,” he reasoned. Hell, if they only encountered the Chaos Crew, sticking together would even the odds. Rigby considered Scott’s words for a moment.

“That’s fair,” he said. “I suppose you are right in that respect. It took Kayo and I both to take Havoc on before.” Scott barely suppressed the urge to tell Captain Rigby that that wasn’t necessarily how Kayo told that story. They would have enough time to banter with each other after they took care of things. “Ok, Tracy, let’s go!” Rigby broke cover and started toward the structure before Scott had a moment to process. Scott’s brow creased. The headstrong captain could be a real pain if he set his mind to it.

Scott broke cover and followed Rigby down to the warehouse, taking up a position on the opposite side of the door as the captain. Rigby led the way inside, the room filled with crates and boxes and metal shelves. Scott’s eyebrow rose. Perhaps this facility wasn’t quite as abandoned as everyone was made to believe. Scott turned on the light on his suit to see if he could read the labels on the crates. Curiosity and a sense of impending danger made him cautious. If there was something in these containers that could be used against him, he would be wise to check it over before he got into a confrontation.

His fingers traced over the surface of the containers, finding no outward indication of what might be inside, though his glove came away with dust on the fingertips. He continued along the rows and aisles, checking dutifully around every corner as he moved through the facility. He could hear Rigby following in his footsteps.

As he turned another corner, he came face to face with an empty container, which drew his brow together even more. Something about this didn’t feel right. Why would the Hood steal a valuable and volatile substance, only to lead him to a warehouse with old, empty containers? It didn’t add up.

A loud clang from the other side of the room had him turning and sinking into a defensive crouch as the sound reverberated in the metal building. His muscle memory from his days in the military continued to serve him well in that respect. His eyes turned to the sound of footsteps running, only to find that Rigby had taken off in the direction from which the sound had come from.

Goddammit, Rigby! Scott thought to himself. When this was all over, he was going to have to talk to the GDF, or perhaps to Kayo if he thought she could make the captain come to heel. He cautiously moved toward the end of the aisle, not wanting to give away his position in case Rigby got himself in trouble running off on his own like that. His senses were on high alert, so when John’s voice came through the comms in his suit, he nearly had a heart attack.

“Scott, this is Thunderbird five,” he said.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Scott said, a bit more testily than perhaps his little brother deserved, but he was still trying to soothe his senses into a level of acuteness rather than the overload he was currently experience. When John spoke again, Scott could hear the frown in his voice.

“I’m sorry for the delay, Scott,” he said. “The GDF is on their way. Estimated time of-”

“GDF is already here,” Scott said as a sound had him advancing toward its origin cautiously. Scott wondered vaguely how Thunderbird Five’s information could be so behind. Was there a system bug that was causing the lag? There was a long pause and Scott wondered if maybe John had simply moved on to help one of their other brothers, but his brother’s voice came through his helmet once more, concern in his voice.

“Scott, I just got off comms with the GDF. I double checked the coordinates Thunderbird Five is registering with Captain Rigby. He’s currently leaving a situation in New Caledonia. Both Captain Rigby and Colonel Casey confirm there are no GDF craft in the area. Whoever you are in there with…it’s not the GDF.” John said. Scott’s blood froze, ice creeping through every inch of his body, and for a moment all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. Scott took several moments to respond, and it was a pause too long for John. “Scott?”

“FAB,” Scott said automatically, almost dismissively as his mind spun with other possibilities. If the person he came in with wasn’t Rigby…then he had to have been face to face with Havoc. Kayo had briefed them all on her holographic technology. The ice running through him deepened and his stomach dropped when he followed that through to its logical conclusion. That meant that he had dropped Thunderbird One right in the lap of the Chaos Crew, especially if the supposed GDF ship was really the Chaos Cruiser in disguise. His heart began to pound in his chest. He had to get back to Thunderbird One. He couldn’t let them get their hands on it.

“Scott?” John prompted again, worried at his brother’s silence.

“Lock down Thunderbird One’s systems,” Scott said, his tone much more level than he felt. “There’s a potential that she will be compromised. Alert me if there is any attempt to override lock down.”

“FAB,” John replied. “Are you ok?”

“I’m making a retreat to regroup with the GDF,” he said. “I’m inside the warehouse on location. At least one adversary is in the building with me.” He began to make his way back down the rows of containers. This wasn’t going to be a fair fight if he got caught on his own. Why hadn’t he listened to his own advice and remembered that International Rescue was not law enforcement.

He was nearly to the door when there was a horrible wrenching sound of metal on metal. He turned to see one of the containers falling toward him. He jumped out of the way and landed roughly as the container landed with a crash. Dust from years of disuse kicked up like a cloud and blinded Scott for a moment, holding up a hand to protect himself from the cloud rolling toward him despite the fact that he still wore his helmet.

“Scott? Scott?! What was that?!” John asked. Scott recognized that the panic in his brother’s voice was a testament to exactly how bad the situation looked from above.

“I’m ok, John,” he said, his eyes scanning the area. That shelf hadn’t failed on its own. That must mean that Fuse had to be nearby. He was the only one who could have done that much damage that quickly.

“What happened?” John asked. Scott didn’t have time to answer. A figure came flying out of the dust cloud, and it took all of Scott’s military instincts to block the attack. He rolled backward and out of the way, but his assailant was relentless. They had Scott on the retreat.

Scott got a lucky break as he rolled behind a shelf. It was only a few moments, but it was enough to get Scott on his feet and ready to face his attacker head on. He wasn’t disappointed as the figure came hurtling around the corner, weapons at the ready. Scott dodged out of the way, his heart stuttering for a moment when he saw that it was Rigby.

No.

Not Rigby.

Havoc. Rigby wouldn’t attack him like this. The shift from rescuer to soldier was almost instantaneous. Instinct took over as Havoc came for him. Scott dodged a punch and thought, in a brief moment as he took his own swing, that this wasn’t Havoc’s normal style. She liked to attack from afar, not get so up close and personal. What was her aim?

Scott had thought a little too long. Havoc took him to his knees with an attack he hadn’t been expecting. An arm was around his neck, cutting off his air. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind. It was obvious that she was dead set on taking him out of the picture. Scott’s muscle memory had him breaking out of the hold and shoving Havoc back.

There was a sound of pain and a squelching as his opponent fell back against one of the shelves that had been damaged in the earlier blast. Scott looked up and his eyes widened. It was jarring to see Rigby’s appearance with a spike of damaged metal through his chest. Hell, even with it being Havoc, it was still a shock. Scott moved over to explore the damage. There was wet breathing.

“Get…way from me.” The words were spoken through wet breaths.

“Shhh,” Scott said. “Don’t talk. I’m going to see if I can help.”

“Don’t need your help!” A wet cough and a groan of pain with a struggle.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” Scott said. He could see the life leaving Rigby’s face and the thought scared him, even if it was Havoc. While he had seen men die before, he always hated taking a life. No matter what Scott did, he couldn’t seem to stem the bleeding. Despite knowing he couldn’t save him, Scott was pouring his all into trying to do anything to stem the bleeding.

It was a moment before there was only the sound of Scott’s breath. There was no labored breathing, and Rigby’s body sagged against the broken containers and shelves. He hung his head.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you Havoc,” he muttered under his breath.

“What are you on about?” The voice came from behind him. Scott turned quickly and his heart dropped. Havoc stood at the other end of the corridor of containers, tossing one of her holospheres up and down in her hands. The color began to drain from Scott’s face. If that was Havoc then….

“What…how….” No….he couldn’t have killed Rigby…he couldn’t… “Why did he attack me? What did you do, Havoc?!” Havoc smiled, clearly pleased with herself, pulling a small device no bigger than her fingertip from a hidden compartment in her suit.

“It’s a portable digital signal that can be unobtrusively planted on someone to alter their appearance.” Scott’s mind immediately shot back to the moment back before this all unfolded where the person he had thought to be Rigby had clapped him on the shoulder. He reached back over his shoulder and he felt his fingers brush against a raised feature he knew was not a part of his suit. Scott could taste bile as the reality of what he had done caught up with him. Rigby had attacked him because he had looked like someone else….Havoc. The Hood. Fuse. It didn’t matter. Rigby had thought it just as much a combat situation as Scott had. He dropped to his knees.

“You bitch…” Scott said. He didn’t lightly call any woman a bitch, but Havoc had just forced his hand in killing one of his business associates and a friend.

“Now now now,” came a voice speaking in a low purr that he knew could only be one person. He looked up to see the Hood coming from behind Havoc. “It’s not exactly fair to lay all the blame at Havoc’s feet. After all, this was your fault.” The words took the air from his lungs as his fingers dug into the ground.

Your fault.

My fault.

The Hood cocked his head and listened for a moment. The familiar roar of engines as another craft approach was nearly lost through the sound of blood pumping through Scott’s ears and the concentration required to keep him from throwing up. The Hood smirked.

“I really would love to stay and chat, but it seems as though we’ve outstayed our welcome here. Scott looked up in time to see Havoc activate the same device she had activated before. Scott barely registered that the Hood had taken on Scott’s appearance, or that Havoc had taken on the appearance of the Hood. He didn’t know who he looked like. It didn’t matter. He knew he was being set up to take the fall.

And deep inside, he knew he deserved it too.

[streetlites]

This was hour 8 of a 24-hour flight to The Citadel and my ass was already numb. Any novelty of being in space had quickly worn off by the second hour when it became extremely clear that space was so called because there was so much of it and so very little to see. I fidgeted with the screen in front of me to turn it back to a sitcom that I had already watched 3 times but would never be shown to completion unless I paid 20 credits for an hour of access. Which I wouldn’t.

A chime sounded and the ‘fasten seatbelts’ signs lit up. The guy to my right sighed ‘shit’ and put his laptop away. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” a voice crackled in the overhead speakers. “The captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please be seated and check to see that your seatbelt is securely fastened. If you are in one of the treadmill terminals, remain where you are and securely fasten your harness to your person. Flight attendants will be by to ensure all luggage is secured. Please pass any remaining service items to them at this time. Thank you.”

“What’s going on?” I asked my seat-mate as a chorus of groans sounds through the cabin. I’d never been on a flight before but their reactions had me expecting something bad. I hoped it would only be mildly annoying. If we were going to crash into something, they’d tell you, right?

“They’re going to announce a delay,” he tells me and reaches into a pocket in his suit, producing a small pill bottle.

“How do you know?”

“Because there’s no turbulence out here unless you fly too close to a planet and since,” he gestures to the window, black and dotted with stars but no planets to be seen. “They’re probably working on the Charon Relay again and have traffic backed up. It got fried at the end of The War and they’ve been patching it together ever since. Wish they’d get someone who knew what the hell they were doing for once.”

“Oh shit. How long do you think it’ll be?” I ask, feeling annoyed by the possible delay despite not really having plans once I got in to the station.

“If we’re lucky, a couple of hours – but don’t count on it. Most likely, we’ll sit around for a couple of days.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m going to take a Xanax and check out. Do you want one?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” I tell him as he drops a pill into my palm.

He adjusts himself in his seat to get comfortable and I look around the cabin. Some people are loudly complaining about their layovers that they’re going to miss; the guy shakes his head in disapproval. “I don’t know why they’re complaining for – everyone knows you have to schedule your layovers days apart. If I have a job or an appointment I absolutely have to be on time to, I try to get a week lead.”

I nod, not really understanding. I’m watching the flight attendant argue with a guy two seats up - “Sir, the Captain has turned on the ‘fasten seatbelt sign’, please remain seated.”

“I don’t care what the Captain has turned on! I have to use the bathroom!”

“I can assure you that it will not be on for long, please wait in your seat until he gives the okay.”

“Listen, I have a condition and, if I don’t get to a bathroom right away, I will be unable to hold it. And, if I piss myself, I will not clean it up and I will have my dry-cleaning bill sent to you personally! Do you have any idea how much it costs to have one of these suits professionally cleaned?! You will!”

The flight attendant sighs, “Fine but I’d like to remind you of the waver you signed before getting on the plane. United will not be liable for any injuries that occur in zero gravity or when turning on the gravity well for passengers not secured to their seats.”

“Oh, fuck you and your waver! I know how to handle myself in Zero G! I’ve definitely flown more than you ever have. Now, get out of my way and let me pass!”

“Yes, sir.” The attendant shakes his head and continues towards us, checking the overhead bins and seatbelts.

When he gets to us, the man beside me hands him his cups and leans toward the other man, “You’re going to let his ass drop, aren’t you?” He asks, conspirationally.

“Honey, I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” the flight attendant responds.

Seat-mate nods, “Mmm-hmm.” Which earns him a giggle from the other man.

I reach to try to save my cup of flat soda from being thrown away, the flight attendant lightly batting my hands. “Sorry, no open containers in Zero G. Don’t worry, I’ll be by after the announcement with Nutrino Blocks and water.”

“Nutrino Blocks?” I ask, the very sound of it drying my mouth.

“Yes, and they’re every bit as appetizing as they sound,” the man says, his face twisting in distaste.

“You guys got any beer back there?”

“Of course, they’re $30 a bottle.”

“For a beer?!”

“Sweetie, I don’t set the prices, I just work here.” He tells me, jerking on both mine and my partner’s seatbelts and then stands to check our overhead.

“You guys take cash?”

The man pauses and peers down at me, “Cash?”

“Yeah, like UNAS dollars.”

“Well, yes, but,” he pauses, as if the notion that I’m carrying cash is grinding his brain to a halt. “You’re taking cash to The Citadel?”

I look at both men who are staring at me in open, disapproving disbelief. “Yes?” I answer slowly.

The flight attendant gasps, his fingers of one hand splayed against his chest, “Oh, honey, no. You must not have done any research on that place before coming out. And, to think, you spent five thousand?” He looks at me and gauges the number is higher. “Six? Six thousand to come out to that nasty space station when you could have only spent one and went to beautiful, sunny, Sulani instead.” He shakes his head, “I’m going to bring you that beer, but we’re going to need to talk.” He looks at the man seated beside me, “Help him, please.”

“Man, in about twenty minutes I’m not even going to be able to help myself,” my seat-mate quips.

The attendant nods and points at me, “I’ll be back.”

“You’re a biotic,” the man says, not really a question.

“I- uh,” I don’t really know how to answer. Maybe? I wasn’t sure myself.

“My son is, too. And, if I would have known, I would’ve done the same thing. I’ve stayed at my shit job because the insurance covers his suppressants and mech suit but he wouldn’t need the mech suit if it weren’t for the suppressants.” He sighs. “You don’t have to take suppressants out in Council space but no one will sign a visa for a known biotic unless their parent has a job out there.” He shakes his head, “It’s not right what they’re doing. My kid deserves to have a childhood, you know? I’m spending all my vacation days just to come out here and do interviews.”

“Wow. Good luck, man.” I say. I’d never really thought about what happened to biotics. I wasn’t one and didn’t know any, so, why would I?

“Yeah, you, too. I think that guy is flirting with you but you really need to know what you’re getting yourself into. The Citadel is a lot like Earth if you’ve got money; very comfortable. But, if not? It’s worse because there’s nowhere else to go to escape the bad.” A chime sounds, “Oh, here we go. I hope it’s only a few hours delay.”

“Good evening, this is your captain speaking. I’ve received word that work is being performed on the Charon Relay. Our current ETA has been pushed back by eighteen hours. As a reminder, you may use the terminals on the seat immediately in front of you to access United’s extranet site to reschedule your flights free of charge at any time. I will be turning off the ‘fasten seatbelt’ signs momentarily and flight attendants will be by to dispense our complimentary dinner of Nutrino Blocks. If you wish to upgrade your meal, we have options of a chicken or fish dinner available. While I have your attention, I’d like to remind you that our flight attendants have applications for our United Credit Card on hand that you can receive approval for while in flight and use here to gain points. Perhaps on a nice chicken dinner?” He chuckles and, I swear, I see everyone in my line of sight narrow their eyes with annoyance. “The attendants will be more than happy to help as they make their rounds. Thank you for choosing United.”

A chime sounds again and the seatbelt light goes off, my body feeling heavy as the gravity well on the ship is turned on. There’s a scream from behind me as the Bathroom Guy comes crashing down, skidding on his face in the aisle.

In the distance, a baby begins to cry...

[cals-sunflower]

Resentment (Z.J)

Authors Note: this is for @cncopmhoe writing challenge!! Congratulations on 500 ❤️

Prompt: You hate him but it’s really just repressed feelings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys decided to take you on vacation with them. No stress, no work and definitely no cares in the world. The group decided to go to Paris and you were excited because this was your first time going. The only problem was that you and Zabdiel didn’t get along. Always arguing and being at each other’s throat. But for your little bit of sanity, you were gonna try to stay out of his way.

“Woo, Paris here we come,” Chris cheers in the most funny but annoying way. “We literally still have to be on a plane for 10 hours idiot,” you replied ‘killing’ his joy as he likes to call it.

The airport was surprisingly not surrounded by the fans. It felt like a breath of fresh air because you absolutely loved the fans but you sometimes had anxiety in the bigger crowds. Joel leaned his shoulder on Erick and cuddled into him because he was the closest and your flight was delayed an hour.

“I’m so tired. I just wanna be in Paris right now,” Richard groaned with a pout. You looked over at him and rolled your eyes, “Richard please shut the hell up,” Richard raised his hands in surrender. It was 3 am and you couldn’t help but the snap at his constant whining. “Ugh I’m sorry Rich, I’m just tired,” you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Nah, you’re good shawty. Don’t trip,” He winked at you which at least made you give him a loopy smile. Zabdiel looked between the two of you and glared. He felt some type of way about the way you interacted with the guys and he wasn’t really sure as to why.

Finally, the plane was now boarding and each of you guys had first class. They only wanted the best for you but either way you would have been fine with a regular seat. The seating was you/Joel, Erick/Chris and Zabdiel/Richard. Once getting situated, you immediately pulled out your favorite book and began reading. Zabdiel couldn’t help be to stare in envy at the way you leaned on Joel reading the book in your hands.

———————

Flying into Paris was the best part because after everyone got their suitcases, it was off to the Airbnb that was rented. The apartment was cute and had top notch decor. You couldn’t wait to start exploring and what not.

“Welp, boys I call the master bedroom,” you walked into the direction of the master bedroom. Sitting your suitcase down and throwing yourself on the bed. Thank goodness for a king sized bed.

Meanwhile the boys found out there were only three rooms. Everyone had to have a partner room up with them.

“So yeah, Joel we’re rooming together,” Erick said in a quick second. Knowing that it was going to be a good pairing, they walked to another room.

“Zabdiel, go room with Y/n,” Richard said to the boy who’s jaw dropped upon hearing your name. “Hell no, you room with her since you guys are so close,” he rolled his eyes.

Richard gave him a look that basically told him to suck it up. “Maybe you guys can finally resolve whatever the hell is wrong with you two,” Chris suggested. “Yeah or you guys can fuck the tension out,” Richard laughed and walked away to the last room.

“Bueno ahí va mi paz,” Zabdiel mumbles to himself. He grabs his suitcase and walks pass Chris who’s in full laughter at his friend.

Zabdiel makes his way to the master bedroom and opens the door. Walking in and sitting his suitcase down. “This room is taken clearly, go find somewhere else,” you gave him a dirty look to which he give one back. “Well, we’re sharing a room because there are only three rooms. I already asked the boys to switch with me but nobody wants to.”

“Find, just stay on your side,” you muttered. Secretly, you were kind of happy to share a room with Zabdiel. “Gladly,” he continues to put his stuff up.

A few hours later you wake up from a nap and walked out to the living room. You seen all of the boys dressed and ready. “Get dressed nena we’re going exploring,” Joel have a smile knowing this is what you wanted to do. You let out a squeal and ran back to the room to get ready. Getting dressed in a black skirt, red crop top and black thigh high boots. You threw on a jacket and grabbed your wallet and phone.

“Damn ma, who are you dressing up for?” Richard whistles at you in a playful manner. I’m dressing for Zabdiel, Your brain wants to say. “Nobody, I dress for myself,” you smiled.

Exploring Paris with your best friends is fun. You guys ate at a restaurant that was pretty fancy and got to walk around the city. It was night time when the boys wanted to go back but you still wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. “Hey, Zabdiel stay with her. We’ll see you guys in a little bit,” Erick throws a wink. You quickly pulled Joel aside before they could walk off.

“Really? Joel stay with me,” you give your best pouting eyes. “No, you guys need to talk. You say you hate each other but it’s really just those repressed feelings,” he kissed your head and walked away. Deep down you knew he was right, how could you not like the tall blonde Puerto Rican?

You and Zabdiel walked in silence to the Eiffel Tower. It was an awkward silence and you were dying because of it. “I’m sorry you had to stay with him. I could’ve gone by myself,” you continued to look down at the ground. “And you get kidnapped? I’d never forgive myself for that,” your heart flutters at his reply. Making it in front of the tower that was beautiful and full of people.

“Here, give me your phone and I’ll take your pictures,” you hand Zabdiel your phone and he takes pictures of you in front of the tower.

“It’s so beautiful,” you smiled at the sight. “Yeah, but what I’m looking at is more beautiful,” you turn to look towards him and find him already looking at you. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to hate you because in reality I don’t. I’m not gonna pretend like I don’t really wanna kiss you right now because I really do,” he pauses for a second not knowing what you were going to say.

“Hacerlo entonces,” you replied to him. He gently places a hand on your cheek and kisses you. The kiss isn’t rushed in anyway but it is pretty intense. His hand was around your waist and pushed you more into him so there wasn’t any space left in between.

“Seems like you don’t hate me either,” Zabdiel gives his signature smirk. “No, I only did to stop the feelings I have for you. Plus you were always on another girl,” you replied with a shrug. He leans down to ear saying, “I only did it to make you jealous nena,” he kissed your cheek and gripped your hand. You guys began your walk to the house hand and hand enjoying each other’s company.

The sun was shining through the window and was bright as ever. You woke up with Zabdiel arms around your waist in a tight embrace. Looking at the clock seeing it was 6:30 am and you couldn’t go back to sleep. So, you tried to get out of his arms only making him wrap them tighter.

“Zab let go, I wanna go to the balcony and read a book,” you tried to wiggle out of his embrace again. “No, I like you this close to me. What time is it anyway?” You replied with 6:30 and he sighed.

“Let’s go back to sleep. Also, stop rubbing on me like that or else,” his eyes were still closed but you could tell he was serious but you decided to test his patience anyway. You did it again and made him groan. He flipped the two of you over and he was on top of you.

“Really? You rub on my dick with these shorts on purpose and expect me not to do anything.” You looked at him and bit your lip. “Hmm I don’t know maybe,” giving him a smile. He shakes his head and pulls you into a kiss. This one being different then last night, it intense and rushed almost. Zabdiel showed you a lesson about following directions and maybe you were a bit loud in the process.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: second one to know, adam page

Notes:

This is another fake fic title ask sent to me by @adampage​ on my old writing blog (which is now my main) It’s part 1 of a 2 part thing, so the second part will be posted right after this.

Summary:

Giselle and Adam are best friends. Also helplessly, hopelessly in love with each other. Giselle gets dumped by a shitty boyfriend and is left without a date to go home for the holidays. Enter Adam. 

Pairing:

Adam Page x OFC, Giselle

Warnings:

Uhh, none.

“Now princess, don’t get upset. I told you from the beginning when you asked me to… Do that.. That I might not be able.” Sean stared her down and took a few deep breaths. Just the prospect of her getting upset and making a scene and making him look like the bad guy.. When he saw her tearing up, he grumbled. “Don’t make a scene. We’re in public for God’s sake, have some class.”

Giselle stared up at him, a hand in her hair as she took a few long and deep breaths. When he told her to have some class, she gave a hollow laugh because suddenly, it hit her.. He was just saying that work was the reason he couldn’t make the trip to meet her family. In reality, he felt like he was better than her family. Better than her.

Suddenly everything he’d said to her became clear as crystal and she realized she was essentially nothing more than a plaything to him. She was a rung on the ladder of his career. Having her on his arm drew him attention, gave the illusion that he had his shit together and he was what a successful company needed.

“Have some class, hmm?”

“Giselle, don’t start. I don’t have the time or the patience for one of your tantrums. Now I’ve said I’m sorry. And you need to accept that. In relationships, we compromise.”

… no, I give and give and give and forgive and you do NOTHING… the thought as it hit her prompted her to finally say something.

“I don’t accept it. And what we have isn’t a relationship, Sean, c’mon..”

“It is?” Sean eyed her, a brow raised and an irate look on his face as her voice raised just a hint. Giselle stepped closer and she snatched at the necklace around her neck. “Go find yourself a new fucking toy to play with.”

She turned to walk away, intent on finding her friends or finding a quiet place and calling her mom to explain what happened -and hear her mother say those dreaded words, and as she did, he gave an amused chuckle. “Are you really breaking up with me right now?”

She tilted her head slightly and pretended to think it over. “Yeah. Actually you holier than thou piece of shit, yeah I am.”

“Just know that I set the bar. You’re never going to find anyone who can bring what I do to the table.” Sean called out after her but she continued to walk, shoving through the crowd as she focused on keeping herself reasonably together until she could find a quiet and private area to fall apart in.

She felt drained and yet, somehow as if a huge weight had been lifted off her. She wasn’t dreading his excuses or lies anymore. She wasn’t having to listen to his little casual remarks about her or her upbringing or her job or anything he liked to nit pick about.

“How the hell was I so stupid?” she wondered aloud, shaking her head sadly as she sank into a seat.  She bought her knees to her chin, listening to her flight boarding and yet not rushing to it immediately.

… I’ll get a later flight, it’s not like I don’t know what they’re all gonna say when I show up without Sean anyway… they all told me he acted like he was too good for me…

XXX

Hangman tensed as he watched the whole thing go down. He stood there a second or two, torn between going after her and going after her now ex boyfriend and throttling the guy.

“Don’t waste your time on him, buddy.” Kenny spoke up, nodding in the direction Giselle disappeared to instead.

“Yeah, go find Giselle, she looked really upset and they’re calling her flight now.”

Adam took off after his best friend rather than go pull her ex out of line for his flight and beating the guy senseless. He found her sitting in a lesser crowded waiting area, staring out the window and for a second or two, he worked on calming himself down.

… if she were with me that would never have happened… I’d never do that…

… well, man, here’s your shot… you gonna shoot it or stand here and think about shootin it all night…. That last thought spurred him forward and he made his way over to where she sat.

After a few seconds of just sitting there, he put his arm around the back of her chair, resisting the urge to comment on how soft the jet black curls were as they brushed his arm.

He cleared his throat, trying to think of just the right thing to say at the moment. She shifted to lean against him and wiped at her eyes, laughing and shaking her head. “I can’t believe I ever thought that guy was the one.”

Adam shrugged and muttered something about the way love makes people crazy sometimes because he couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t the truth.

“Yeah well there’s crazy and there’s plain stupid, Hangman and I’m afraid that right now, I fall into that second category.”

“C’mon, hon, don’t say that. I happen to think you’re pretty damn great.” Adam leaned in, wiping at her eyes with his thumb. He noticed that the flight she was supposed to be getting on was already departing and he swore, quietly.

“It’s okay. I’ll just.. Take a day to pull myself together.” Giselle shrugged as if it were nothing, and Adam nodded.

“At least call your family. Tell ‘em.”

“Don’t remind me.” Giselle gave a weak laugh as she took a few deep breaths and then stood. “C’mon. I’ll walk  you guys to your flights.”

“We’ll walk them.”

Giselle eyed Adam and he stared right back at her. “I am not gettin on a flight and leavin you here alone.”

She bit her lip, starting to protest, but Adam plugged his ears. “I’ll stay until you get a flight. We can get a hotel room and have a sleepover or somethin’.”

“Okay, fine. But I’m gonna warn you now. I’m probably not going to be much company.”

Adam chuckled and gave her that grin of his as he shook his head. “I’ll keep ya entertained. Promise.”

Somehow, Giselle didn’t doubt it, but she still felt guilty, making him delay his own plans to return home. “You don’t… have to do this.” she tried again to protest, to talk him out of staying behind just because she was. But Adam wasn’t hearing it, pressing a finger into her lips and cutting her off mid sentence. They wandered over to where Cody and Brandi stood talking to Kenny and the Bucks, saying their last goodbyes before their flights departed.

Kenny flashed a knowing grin as he set sights on them. “Finally.” he mouthed as Hangman gave him a warning look and mouthed back, “Not right away, damn.”

Adam slipped his arm around her and despite herself, she leaned against his side, staring up at him. It didn’t surprise her at all he was doing this. Adam was just that kind of man.

“They’re calling our flights. See you around, Page.” Matt and Nick gave their friend a hug and Kenny eyed Giselle and Adam. “Don’t both of you have flights?”

“We’re catchin a later one.” Adam answered as Kenny chuckled and nodded, stepping up to hug Adam and using the hug to whisper to his friend, “ If you keep waiting on the perfect time, you’re gonna miss out, buddy.”

Adam nodded and then turned his attention to Giselle as their friends boarded their flights. Clearing his throat, he nodded to the parking lot. “If we want a hotel room, we might wanna leave now.”

“Yeah, true. I just hope we can find one.”

Her cell phone rang and she eyed her mom’s number, finally sighing and muttering “Best to just get this over with.” as she stepped away, answering her mom’s video call.

“Darlin? Why are you still in the airport, hm?”

Giselle honestly meant to answer her mother, but before she could, her mother was swearing under her breath and then sighing. And naturally, her mom went there.

“That guy of yours blew ya off. See, this is…” her mother started to say it but Giselle spoke up calmly, “Yeah, look. I missed my flight fighting with him and breaking it off between us, so if you’re about to say I told you so, get it over with because I am so exhausted, Mama.”

“Where are ya? You’re not alone, right? Because you don’t make the best decisions…”

“I’m with Adam right now. He missed his flight too, so we’re going to catch the first ones out in the morning I guess. What the hell do you mean I don’t make the best decisions? Nevermind, mama, don’t answer that. I… I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to argue with anyone else tonight, especially not a literal brick wall.”

She hung up and Adam chuckled quietly from behind her as he dragged his hands through his hair and eyed her in concern. “You okay, Ele?”

“My mama being herself, of course.”

“Yikes. Let me guess, they adored that jerk?”

“Oh, no, she hated him. Hindsight being what it is, I can’t hold that against her, but you know how she is… Treating me like a child no matter what I do. It’s a mess.. Can we just.. Go now? Please?”

Adam nodded, picking up her bag as he slung his across his shoulder and Giselle went to take the bag from him. He shook his head. Their hands brushed and Giselle stared up at him, biting her lip and staying totally silent for a few seconds.

“What’d she say that got you all wound up, hon?” Adam asked as they walked out of the airport and towards the rental car that luckily, she hadn’t returned earlier. Giselle sighed and looked up at him, giving a sheepish laugh. “She’s right, I mean.. I don’t make the best decisions.”

Adam stopped them in the doorway of the airport and looked down at her, shaking his head. “She’s not right. You just thought ya loved the guy. There’s nothin wrong with that.”

“I think she was referring to all my other so called mistakes. She gets like this when my sister comes home with all the grandbabies, starts trying to meddle in my life because it’s not EXACTLY what she wants it to be.” Giselle sighed and shivered in the cold. Adam held out his jacket and she eyed him. “It’s freezing out here, are you insane? You need that. I’m fine, the car’s not far.”

“Take it, woman. Stop being so damn stubborn!”  Adam chuckled, holding the jacket out again. This time Giselle took it, snuggling down into it, letting the smell of her best friend fill her nose because he always smelled so good and it always made her feel better somehow. She pressed into his side and peered up at his phone as he muttered, “There’s a hotel not even a block away. We’ll try there. You eat anything tonight? I’m starvin.”

Giselle’s stomach growled almost on cue and she shook her head sheepishly. Adam eyed her and she admitted with a shrug, “I was running behind. I thought I could just grab something when they came around on the plane.. Then get actual food when I found a hotel on my all night layover.”

“Woman, what the hell? Look, we’re goin to find an Applebee’s or somethin.” Adam chuckled, shaking his head at her as he put his arm back around her and they walked towards the yellow Challenger she’d been so excited about snagging when they all rented cars earlier in the week. Giselle put the keys into his hand and Adam unlocked the car, opening her door. As she went to lower herself into her seat, they brushed against one another and Giselle found herself just… Sort of staring at him.

She took a deep breath. It was that feeling she seemed to get a lot lately around him. The one she couldn’t quite pin down. The one that had her tingly all over.

Adam caught her gaze, fingers tucked beneath her chin to make her look at him. “Hey… it’s gonna be okay, darlin. What you did was the right thing.”

“I know. Honestly? It doesn’t really hurt. I’m… More disappointed in myself than anything. Like… how did I not see that about the guy?” Giselle shook her head and sighed, taking a few long breaths as Adam pulled the car out into traffic. They were pulling into the parking lot of an Applebee’s near the airport and he snickered quietly, realizing that she’d just really started to doze off. Reaching out, he tapped her shoulder and cleared his throat as he leaned in.

“Hey.. we’re here, Ele.”

Giselle sat up, rubbing at her eyes and stretching. Adam was getting out and walking around, opening her door for her and again, as she got out, she wound up standing close to him, the jacket he’d given her to wear beyond big enough to swim in. Adam laughed when he caught her staring up at him, making the joke that he had to have something in his nose and she shook her head, choosing to stay quiet.

“We goin inside, or?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Adam couldn’t help but ask again and Giselle shrugged, but gave a half smile. “I don’t honestly know right now but I think.. Maybe.”

Truth be told, she just felt relieved to an extent. It hurt, but at the same time, it didn’t. Then again, she reminded herself, this is just the night you finally had enough. There’s no telling how you’ll feel about this in the morning.. When it actually sinks in.

She tried not to think about it. Just like she fully intended to continue doing. She didn’t want to think about any of it, from how stupid she’d been to choose a guy like Sean to begin with, to just how blind she’d let herself become while she’d been with him, to how more than likely everyone -from her family to her co workers, could see right through him.

Adam nodded, staring at her intently while also trying not to do it. “That’s good, darlin. I mean it, you’re gonna be okay. You’ll see.”

“You say that like you don’t know what a mess I am.” Giselle hugged against him for warmth and Adam tensed slightly, arms tightening around her. His nose lingered in her hair and he took a few deep breaths. “You’re not a mess.”

“I kind of am.” Giselle argued. Adam shook his head at her no and she sighed. “Fine. I’m starving. Let’s just go in and get food.” it was her way of changing the subject because suddenly she was picking up on this heavy lingering tension and realizing that tonight was not the first time it had been present.

That it seemed to hang heavily in the air whenever she was around Adam.

Something Riho said earlier in the month, when they’d all gone out for Halloween, it came rushing back to her.

.. no, that’s not it… i mean, i am attracted to him but like… that’s all it is, it has to be, I’d know if it were more than that, right?… she thought to herself as they found a back booth and scanned the menu.

XXX

“ I will… Never try to eat that much again, fuck.” Giselle groaned as they stepped into the hotel room they’d just gotten. Adam’s lack of a laugh at her comment and the way she went about being overdramatic about it immediately drew her attention to what he was currently fixated on.

The room they’d been given only had one bed.

Giselle’s mouth opened and closed and before she could stop it, that feeling was back, fluttering through her insides, making her heart race a little. She dragged her fingers through her snow dampened hair and opened her mouth to say something but Adam had apparently been thinking the same because he blurted out with a shrug, “You take it, darlin. I’ll be fine, I’ve slept on worse than that couch thing.” he nodded to a loveseat that despite it’s upscale design, looked about as comfortable as a boulder.

Giselle started to shake her head, but Adam was grabbing a pillow and stopping in front of her, a hand lingering close to her hip as he stared down at her. “It’s fine. Take the bed.”

She didn’t argue - it wouldn’t have done a lot of good, Adam was a stubborn guy, she knew it from experience as his best friend, and she flopped onto the bed, letting out a long and slow breath.

“Are you sure? I mean..”

“Darlin, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Adam reassured her, even as he sank down and grunted because the little two person sofa gave… Nothing at all. The so called cushions felt like brick covered in black pleather.

And given the fight he’d been in earlier at the arena, it wasn’t the best feeling.

Giselle tried to settle into the giant King sized bed after wiggling out of her clothing, but watching him toss and turn and try to get at least a little comfort left her feeling guilty because what the sofa lacked in the way of comfort?

The bed was like a cloud covered in pale blue sheets.

After turning out the lights, she tried to go to sleep and she just… Couldn’t. Everything from the day so far was rushing through her mind only to fleet just as she’d try to grasp one solid thing, one tangible thought.

Until the most unexpected one of all crept in..

… You’re both adults and Adam is not comfortable over there… Sharing the bed… Nothing has to happen and you do feel really comfortable with Adam…

This was the one solid thought she grasped onto and as if she were on autopilot, it’s the thought that had her sitting up in bed and reaching for the switch to the lights. Adam grunted, shielding baby blue eyes from the harsh flourescent overhead lights because he’d been just about to finally fall asleep.

“Everything okay over there, Ele?” he called out.

The tone of his voice half asleep had her gasping quietly. She sat there a second or two, trailing her fingers lazily over the thin blanket on the bed. “No. It’s not. I…”

“Yeah?” Adam was on his feet and making his way across the room to her, sitting just at the edge of the bed, his back to her.

His eyes met hers and she swallowed hard, nodding to the bed. “We’re adults and watching you over there barely fitting onto that fabric covered boulder.. I’d just feel better if you slept on the bed too? Please?”

Adam eyed her. Everything inside him insisted that he should protest -especially given the way he felt about her and what she’d gone through earlier, but one look into those eyes of hers had him nodding. “Okay, fine.”

She smiled and patted the empty side of the bed and Adam pulled back the sheets getting in and getting as comfortable as he possibly could, all things considered. He tensed a little when she slipped her leg between his, an arm going over him as she cozied right up to him from behind.

“Adam?”

“Y-yeah, hon?” he stammered out, taking a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to roll over and just kiss her already, no matter how shitty the timing might be for it at the moment.

“Thank you for being there. Thank you for being my best friend.”

… Darlin if you knew just how much I wanted to be so much more than that… The thought came and Adam tried to push it to the back of his mind. After a few seconds, he answered quietly, “You deserved better anyway. As far as tonight, and bein your friend.. I want to because you’re an amazing person. You don’t have to thank me.”

“ I know,” she yawned, her cheek nuzzling right against his bare upper back as she moved even closer, “but I wanted to. Because I.. You don’t know how much it means to me. How much you kinda mean to me, Hangman.”

“Night, darlin.”

“Night, big guy.”

XXX

Adam woke up to the sun streaming in the windows and to discover that during the night, he’d rolled onto his back. And that apparently, Giselle draped herself across his body. He took a deep breath and watched her sleeping for a few seconds. He carefully reached out for his cell phone on the nightstand and when he caught sight of the fact that the sun was so bright for a very good reason, he sat up, rubbing his hand through his hair.

On the one hand, she was sleeping so well.. As upset as she’d been the night before, he’d honestly been afraid that she’d have a rough night full of tossing and turning.. On the other hand, they both had flights to get on.

… or A FLIGHT.. Because it’s not like you have anything in particular to go… the thought snuck in before he could stop it, and he shook his head at himself.

He leaned down and gently shook her awake. “Hey, Ele? We have exactly ten minutes to get dressed and get over to the airport for check in.”

Giselle shot up in bed, biting her lip as doing so as fast as she had led to the sheet wrapped around her upper body very nearly falling down. She blushed a little and Adam turned his head.

After grabbing the shirt she’d taken off at some point during the night and tugging it down, she tapped his shoulder and yawned. “I was sleepin so good. Parts of me are really dreadin this whole goin home thing..”

“Yeah?”

“Well.. I know how my mama is.”

She fidgeted and Adam felt his breath literally catching hold in his throat, found himself hoping despite it all that she was about to hint at what he felt like she might be.

Giselle took a deep breath and caught his gaze. “ I don’t.. Nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, no.” Adam tilted her chin, making her meet his gaze.

“You’ve probably got plans and the last thing you wanna spend Christmas doing is hangin out with me..”

… you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried… he thought to himself as he chuckled and eyed her, a teasing hint to his voice, “Ele, are you tryin to ask me somethin?”

“I was, yeah.. But it’s dumb. I mean you’ve already done this..” Giselle gestured to the room they’d spent the night in and she took a deep breath. “It’s just I… When you’re around, I feel better.”

… and maybe I just want to… i don’t know, give myself the chance I’ve been too afraid to take before and get to know you better….  She realized she’d gone silent and she added quickly, “We don’t have to tell them we’re dating or anything, I promise..”

Adam chuckled, staring at his hands as he pulled himself together. What she was asking was… a huge deal for him. And there was something a little different about her this morning, in the way she kept looking at him, and all the little touches.

She leaned against him and sighed. “Sorry.” - followed by an awkward but cute laugh. Adam chuckled and turned to the side so that he held her gaze. “You don’t have to be sorry. Yeah. I’ll come back with you.”

“Wait, huh? R-really?” it caught her off guard and she bit her lip, catching his gaze, feeling relieved when she saw that smile of his.

“That bein said, darlin.. We’re kinda down to 8 minutes.”

“Shit.. But I don’t wanna get out of this bed.” Giselle pretended to whine, pouting even as she looked up at him as he stood. She turned away quickly when she realized just how little happened to be covering his body.

Her cheeks heated in a blush and despite looking away, she may have peeked through her fingers, sucking in a sharp breath.

“It did feel really comfortable.” Adam sighed and gazed at the bed -and her, as he grabbed his discarded jeans and tee shirt. He’d just finished dressing when she slipped out from between the sheets, grabbing her own jeans, tugging them up her legs. It called entirely too much attention and Adam had to turn around completely.

Even that did no good because the mirror over the dresser gave him a view. He coughed and called out, “About done, Ele?”

Giselle tapped his shoulder and waved up at him, nodding to the door. “Yeah. We should get going now.”

“We should.”

In her hurry to get dressed, she’d grabbed one of the tee shirts he had out the night before. He chuckled and she looked down, palming at her face and quietly groaning before giving a mumbled “Fuck it. I have zero time to change. And it’s comfy.”

“Looks cute on ya too.” - it came out before Adam could stop it, making her blush all over again. They stood there, migrating closer and closer for a few seconds until finally, Giselle grabbed for her backpack.

“ You can’t say I didn’t warn you in advance. My family is a little.. Out there.” she told him with an amused laugh as Adam smiled back at her and held the door open for her, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

[thelanguageoflovers]

I Trust You, Theodore James Kippen

A one-shot for the amazing @tyrusflavoredtea in return for the masterlist she made me!

***

“Flight 283 out of Gate 32C has been delayed from its departure time of 4:50 to 6:00. I repeat, Flight 283 out of Gate 32C will now be departing at 6:00 pm.” The flight attendant’s voice was nearly inaudible over the quiet din of chatter throughout the gate. Cyrus rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair and trying to get comfortable. He glanced up at the desk, watching yet another hopeful passenger be informed that there were no more flights out of DCA into ORD until 1:00 in the afternoon the next day.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, sir.”

“No, that’s alright. You don’t decide what flights go where and when,” the man assured her.

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Tallman. The airline will provide you compensation for your time,” she promised.

“Oh? What kind of compensation?” he asked, leaning slightly over the desk with a nearly intimidatingly suggestive smile.

“Sir, I-”

“Please, call me John.”

“Mr. Tallman,” the attendant emphasized, stepping backward slightly. Cyrus sat up as he watched this happen, already standing up as John began to speak again.

“Oh come on, baby-” Cyrus was standing next to him in no time, beginning to open his mouth before he was beaten to the punch.

“Is there a problem here, sir?” A deep voice asked from the other side of Mr. Tallman.

“Yeah, there is, actually-”

“-Sir,” Cyrus cut in. “I recommend you stop right there. She’s clearly not interested, and I can’t blame her. Move on, and stop taking flights if you can’t keep it in your pants long enough to speak to a flight attendant.” Mr. Tallman opened his mouth to argue, but Deep Voice Guy was stepping in front of him, hand on his chest.

“Mr. Tallman. You either walk away or you face the No-Fly list,” he said, towering over the man. Who rolled his eyes and walked out of the gate, muttering something.

“I- would that even get him on the No-Fly list?” Cyrus muttered, mostly to himself.

“Well, no,” Deep Voice answered, turning to face him and holding out a hand to shake. “But he thinks it would. I’m TJ Kippen.”

“Cyrus Goodman.” They shook hands, smiling gently.

“Thank you guys, so much,” the flight attendant said.

“Oh, it was no problem,” Cyrus promised, hooking his thumb into the strap of his backpack.

“Not at all,” TJ agreed, smiling at her. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no, that was plenty.”

“Okay, then.” TJ turned to Cyrus. “Come sit with me?”

“I- um, I guess so.” Cyrus was weighing the possibilities of TJ’s status as a serial killer in his head, and not only could TJ tell, he also found it ridiculously endearing.

“Come on, I promise not to harm you.” TJ smiled wide, gesturing to an open row of chairs.

“I don’t think that was the right way to assure someone of your trustworthiness.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Cyrus chuckled, sitting down next to him.

“What would you prefer, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, Kippen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Who are you, my mother?”

“Who’s to say?”

“...You?” TJ asked.

“I respect that,” Cyrus conceded. “Anyway, is DC home, business, or pleasure?”

“School, actually. Georgetown. I stayed six extra weeks to take a history course.”

“Freshman?”

“Yeah, I am,” TJ laughed.

“Me too. Yale, though.”

“Then why the hell are you in DC? And going to Chicago?”

“Summer internship - Capitol Hill. And Chicago is home. Sort of. Chicago is home plus about four hours of driving.”

“Same. O’Hare is just the closest big airport to Shadyside.”

“Shadyside?” Cyrus asked, facing TJ.

“Yeah?”

“You’re lying, right?”

“No?” TJ promised, one eyebrow raised.

“You have to be lying. I’d know you if you lived in Shadyside.”

“Ah. You live there too?”

“No. I live there. You, on the other hand, are a liar.” TJ shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his wallet and pulling out his driver’s licence. He handed it to Cyrus with a smug grin.

“Shadyside, Midwest. Born and raised,” he said, only for Cyrus to chuckle at the card.

“Theodore James Kippen. Theodore. Theo Kippen,” Cyrus laughed. “Your name is Theodore.”

“Oh hush. You were named after a sculptor.”

“Not so. I was named after Cyrus the Great, Achaemenid-Persian King, and Cyrus McCormick, physicist. And who were you named after? Ted Bundy?” Cyrus deadpanned.

“Not funny! Theodore Roosevelt and James Joyce.”

“Oh. That’s… Not actually something I know how to make fun of.”

“Lucky me.”

“I like your shirt,” Cyrus said after a moment, smiling softly at the pride pattern.

“June’s almost over. I figured I should probably wear it a few more times before the hets get mad,” TJ joked, glancing down at Cyrus’s pride bracelet. “The same for you, I presume?”

“Nah. This bracelet never leaves my wrist; it’s been a part of me since my best friend made it for me.”

“And how long has that been?”

“Nearly six years. Since the day I came out to her.”

“You’ve got a good best friend, then,” TJ smiled.

“Two of them, actually.”

“Ah. Me too. Well, a best friend and a twin sister.”

“Good support system,” Cyrus approved. “Does your sister go too Georgetown, too?”

“No, UCLA. I haven’t seen her in far too long.”

“Reunion day tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” A smile came over his face as he spoke. “Marty, Amber and I haven’t seen one another since the holidays.”

“Marty?! That’s your best friend?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“He’s my best friend’s ex-boyfriend,” Cyrus gawked.

“So your best friend is… Buffy Driscoll! Then your bracelet maker is Andi Mack.”

“You are correct. And your twin sister is dating my best friend.”

“She is, yeah. And your other best friend dumped my best friend for… Someone else. Whoever she cheated on him with. I never got around to finding out who.”

“Buffy didn’t break up with Marty for someone else or cheat on him? She broke up with him because they were going off to schools on opposite sides of the country and she didn’t want them both to get hurt.”

“Marty said she…”

“She didn’t. Buffy’s not that kind of person.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I give you my word, Theo.”

“Is that gonna stick?”

“Are you gonna go after Buffy for cheating?”

“I asked the first question.”

“I asked the more important question,” Cyrus rebutted.

“Fine. I trust you.”

“Then I trust you, Theo.”

“Is that all it takes to buy your trust?” TJ crossed his arms.

“No, actually. My trust costs quite a lot more than that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… Your ID, the pride pattern on your shirt -  a gift from Marty when you two came out to one another. Your luggage tag, the watch you’re wearing - which just so happens to have been picked out by Andi while helping Amber shop for her brother. Your backpack, which you borrowed from Marty. Your shoes, decorated by Walker Brodsky, Andi’s ex boyfriend. Your varsity jacket - Grant High basketball. The music playing out of your earbuds - a playlist no doubt formed by Bowie Quinn, Andi’s dad.

“Your pants - bought at the mall five miles out of town. Your hair, which fits Amber’s description of her brother. The tattoo on your wrist of your little sister’s name; Molly passed away a few years ago, and you spoke at her funeral. I only met her once when Amber brought her along to hang out at the park, but she looks just like you. And the polaroid in your phone case. Amber put it there right before you went separate ways.”

“You collected all that information in one conversation?” TJ asked.

“My trust isn’t easily handed out.”

“Question - do you hyper analyze everyone you meet?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Tell me about that lady,” he said, looking pointedly in the direction of a woman sitting alone in a row of chairs.

“She just got back from visiting her kid at Howard.”

“How can you tell?”

“...It says so on her sweatshirt.” TJ glanced up to find that yes, she was wearing a Howard sweatshirt.

“Touché.”

“You just chose a bad person. That was too easy.”

“Fine. That flight attendant back there. She’s in uniform, so you can’t derive clues from that,” TJ said, a smug grin on his face.”

“Bad choice, Theo. She’s in uniform, but I know her profession and I’ve had an entire conversation with her. She’s engaged, and she hasn’t seen her fiancé in a few weeks. This is her last flight before she gets to see him in Chicago. And before you ask- she’s wearing an engagement ring.”

“That’s mildly terrifying. How do you pick up so much information so quickly?”

“All four of my parents are psychiatrists. You pick up the skill after a while.”

“Ah. That’s… fascinating,” TJ said.

“Well that was convincing,” Cyrus deadpanned.

“No, I mean it! That’s genuinely cool, Cyrus.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s kind of my single defining character trait. Or rather, my single defining skill.”

“Oh, come on. You’re worth more than this one skill,” TJ insisted. \

“Like…?”

“Whatever’s in your bank account, I presume,” he teased.

“Theodore Kippen!”

“It was a joke, I promise,” TJ said, hands in the air as though pleading innocence.

“I know it was.” Cyrus smiled softly, a silent promise that he believed him.

“What are you majoring in?” TJ asked, opting to change the subject entirely.  Cyrus clearly noticed, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Doubling in Poli Sci and Philosophy. You?”

“Majoring History and a minor in German.”

“Are you fluent?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s actually my first language. We lived in Germany until Amber and I were 10.”

“Seriously?” Cyrus asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“My American accent is really good, I guess,” he responded, letting his natural German accent show.

“You should probably just be handed a German major,” Cyrus marveled.

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“You know, I think I actually prefer your natural accent to the American.”

“Is that a compliment?” TJ’s accent was thicker now - he was clearly starting to fall back into it after using a false one for so long.

“Of course it is!”

“Well then, I’m glad you heard it.”

“So am I. Goodness, do you think the plane should be at the gate by now? It’s… 4:45, and we’re supposed to depart at 6:00, so we should be boarding very soon.”

“Ja, das sollte es auch.”

“Pardon?”

“Hmm? Oh! Um, yes, it should be. Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking and-”

“Don’t apologize! It’s fine.”

“The plane should definitely be here,” TJ said, sidestepping the topic. He looked out the windows to where the plane should be.

“What do you bet it gets cancelled tonight?”

“Oh, definitely,” TJ agreed. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the first delay.”

“So have I. The attendants at the desk even look like they know it’s going to be cancelled.”

“I feel so bad for them.” TJ glanced to the desk, a sympathetic look on his face. “Wait, look-”

“Hmm?” Cyrus looked to the desk, where the flight attendants were reading something and one was reaching for the microphone as another typed frantically into a computer.

“Cancellation or delay?” TJ asked.

“I say cancelled.”

“I say another delay,” TJ countered.

“Passengers of Flight 283 out of Gate 32C, Flight 283 has been cancelled. All passengers have been placed on one of two flights tomorrow and will be emailed the details. Passengers have also been awarded miles to be used for United Airlines flights. Thank you for your patience and flexibility.”

The other passengers at the gate all grumbled slightly, sighing and exiting the gate. Many said something about getting dinner. TJ stood up, pulling out his phone to look for rooms at nearby hotels.

“I’m gonna run up to the desk really quick, hang on.” Cyrus was gone before TJ could ask. Naturally, he followed.

“What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering what times the flights are tomorrow?” Cyrus asked, approaching the desk with a smile.

“Well, we’ve put all the passengers in coach on either the flight at noon or 1:00 pm. However, we can also put you and your boyfriend in first class at 4:00 pm instead of giving you complimentary miles,” a flight attendant said.

“I’ll definitely take that offer,” TJ said from behind him, ignoring the flight attendant’s assumption. Cyrus couldn’t help but notice that his American accent was back in full swing.

“Me too, absolutely,” Cyrus agreed. “Do we owe anything extra?”

“No, no.” The attendant from earlier stepped forward, overhearing their conversation. “You helped me out earlier, so consider it a gift from the airline. I’ll cover any extra fees,” she promised.

“Oh- are you sure? I’d be happy to pay-” Cyrus started.

“No, no. There’s truly no need.”

“Thank you so much,” TJ said, smiling at her gratefully.

“Thank you!” Cyrus exclaimed, turning to exit the gate with TJ. “Did you get anywhere on hotel rooms?”

“There’s only one room open at any hotel nearby.”

“Ugh, I guess that means I’ll have to drive out urther and come back in the morning.”

“...I mean, you could,” TJ said. “But it’s got two queen beds, if you’d rather stay nearby and split the cost?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t particularly want to pay for a room on my own. Especially not at Chicago prices.”

“I don’t either, as long as you’re sure.”

“Eh, my twin sister really likes you,” TJ reasoned. “I’m gonna take the room.”

“Good, how much do I owe you?”

“Um… 60 dollars.”

Cyrus nodded, handing it to him with a smile.

“Now, should we go get dinner?”

“Yes, definitely,” TJ said. “Just- not in the airport.”

“Right. No 16 dollar burgers, got it. You know, I think I have an idea. There’s a place I really like nearby. It’s not much, really, but… any dietary restrictions?”

“Do you count penicillin as a dietary restriction?”

“No, you idiot! I meant like lactose intolerance or veganism.”

“Ah. Well, none of those things.”

“Good. Do you have a car here?”

“No, I took a cab.”

“Okay, I’m driving then,” Cyrus said, pulling his keys out of his pocket and waving them at TJ. “Shall we?”

***

“Have you ever had kebab?” Cyrus asked, handing TJ his food.

“I lived in Berlin for ten years! Of course I’ve had kebab. Never in America, though.”

“Ah, well… I can’t promise it’ll live up to Berlin’s standards. However, I say we eat it while it’s warm.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then.” TJ feigned a toast with his kebab, biting into it in sync with Cyrus. “...Well. it’s no Berlin, but it’s good. And anyway, even if it was awful- I’d eat awful kebab a thousand times over if it means another date with you.”

“This is a date now. Theo?”

“Only if you want it to be,” TJ flirted.

“I don’t think I’d mind that.”

“Yeah?” TJ’s grin was enough to change his mind if he’d been at all on the fence.

“Oh, absolutely.”

They finished their food quickly, talking aimlessly about their friends in Shadyside. Before he knew it, Cyrus was walking up to the front desk of their hotel with TJ at his side.

“Hi, we have a room, under Kippen,” he said.

“Yes, of course, here it is. I’ll just need ID and a card for incidentals?” Cyrus handed his credit card over while TJ set his driver’s licence on the desk. “...And there we go. You’re all set in room 619. Elevators are around the corner to your left. Have a good evening!”

“You too, ma’am, thank you!” TJ said.

“Thank you!” Cyrus followed TJ to the elevators, racing him to push the button.

“You’re ridiculous,” TJ huffed, pouting as Cyrus beat him to it.

“I know,” Cyrus said. His face was still occupied by a smug grin as he stepped out of the elevator onto the 6th floor. He led TJ down the hall toward their room. Sliding the room key into the lock, TJ pushed the door open.

The room was full of white bedding and soft carpeting and the same air freshener employed in every hotel Cyrus had ever stayed in. He let TJ take his hand and pull him inside, let him simply stand and stare into Cyrus’s eyes, let him step forward and kiss him, let his back hit the door as he looped his arms around TJ’s neck.

“Thank you,” TJ breathed, still crowding Cyrus against the door.

“For what?”

“This. All of this. Letting me kiss you.” Cyrus simply shrugged, tugging TJ back toward him.

“I trust you, Theodore James Kippen.”

[thepatricktreestump]

Naughty or Nice: ch20

A/N: agh i am so sorry this took forever to write. i’ve been all across the country, trying to find places to stay seeing as i’m literally homeless, but also enjoying myself at concerts and making lots of new friends. also not to justify the wait or anything but it’s very fitting there was a gap between the last chapter and this one seeing as where we are in the story there’s been a break between the reader and the boys and leg two of the tour is just now starting up sooo.... hope you enjoy it

               Before the start of the second leg of the tour, you made a solemn pledge with yourself to avoid the boys at all cost before the chaos started back up again, making them postpone their bet, and irking them both even more so. If you were just a little puzzle piece in their rivalry game, you’d shut it down completely. You weren’t just a toy; you were an independent, confident, clever young lady who got what you wanted. Even if that meant taking wants away from others. You smiled to yourself as you entered the lobby of the recording studio, ready for the last meeting before the start-up of the second half of the tour, both of the boys chatting at the table when their heads perked up to see you.

               “Why so stunned?” you raised an eyebrow.

               Sure, you had made some changes. A new shade of lipstick, a fresh haircut, a crop top, and a little bit of makeup combined with some high heels and a miniskirt gave you just enough boost to make eye contact. Plus, you wanted to look professional for the meeting. You couldn’t help yourself but wink, making them practically drool at the sight of you.

               “Holy hell,” Tyler breathed.

               “What?” you smirked. “Like what you see, Joseph?”

               “Considering you sort of fell of the face of the earth for the past few weeks, I think we’re both stunned to simply see you alive, much less this, I mean-” Josh made an excessive gesture towards you. “This.” He ran a hand through his hair, still speechless. “Wow.”

               “Thanks,” you simpered, strutting towards the conference table with camera in hand, pulling out a seat across from the boys, setting down your camera and resting your chin on your palm. “So, what have you two been up to?”

               “Music,” Tyler managed to get out.

               “And thinking about you,” Josh added, earning a death glare from Tyler.

               “Look we didn’t mean to upset you or anything-” Tyler began but you shook your head.

               “You didn’t,” you insisted. “I missed both of you. I just needed a little time to myself.”

               “What does that mean?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

               “A little self-love never hurt anyone,” you insisted and the boys hummed in agreement, still not quite understanding what you implied, but dropping the subject.

               “We’re headed out of the states for this leg of the tour,” Tyler explained. Mark entered, along with Chris and Michael, and some others as well. You nodded with a smile, watching as they entered the room. You hoped they hadn’t eavesdropped on anything. “Uh, hey guys.”

               They gave a small greeting before Tyler dismissed the topic and let the tour managers begin the presentation. Like Tyler had explained before, this would be out of the states and onto new continents. They were traveling to Europe and Asia, Australia and Russia, and a couple islands as well. You hadn’t visited too many places, and so you were stoked for the entire trip. They went over meal plans, travel accommodations, hotels and rentals, scheduling and delay procedures, even security precautions and strict rules. Apparently all the shows were sold out too, so it would be booked as ever. Due to the large scale of the tour, they had decided to hire another photographer to work alongside you, Brad, who had proved just as talented and personable. He was quite nice and showered you in plenty of compliments, and before you knew it, you were back at home, ready for the busy day and trip to Europe tomorrow.

               At a time far too early for any human to hear an alarm clock ring throughout the house, you groaned and headed out for the airport. Being on a private flight was mandated due to security reasons, but deep down inside, you liked to think it was to be spoiled. You greeted both of the boys with hugs, to which Josh had reciprocated with coffee, and you showered him in kisses to Tyler’s annoyance. “What?” Tyler scowled. “Josh brings you a cup of dirt water and you worship him but I get you a first class ticket on a private plane and all I get is a hug?”

               “Oh shut up Joesph,” you rolled your eyes. “You know I love you.”

               “Mhmm,” he blushed and Mark laughed at the three of your antics, reminding you that you still had to go through security.

               Once you were settled on the aircraft and up in the sky, Josh had taken you towards the back and gave you a smile, one you knew far too well. “Oh god,” you stared at him, shaking your head in disapproval. “No, Josh, you couldn’t have-”

               “Surprise,” he couldn’t help but grin, pulling out a tiny bag from one of his backpacks, handing it to you. “I promise it’s nothing too expensive, I just- I don’t know.” You took it and he scratched the back of his head, looking at you. “A little something to let you know I missed you.”

               “Josh,” you whined. “You didn’t have to.”

               “I know, I know,” he reassured. “But I wanted to.”

               “Alright,” you rescinded, looking up at him through narrowed eyes before opening up the packaging and revealing a small necklace. You gasped. “Oh my god, what’s this?”

               “A little something,” he repeated.

               It’s adorned in gold, the nickname shaped in cursive print along with a golden chain to match, the word “Babygirl” as the centerpiece. You had seen necklaces like this before, in gift shops and on the necks of Instagram models, a symbol of a relationship or anniversary type treasure. You blushed as you held the necklace up to inspect it, your cheeks a shade of rose as the golden chain glinted in your eye. Josh was smiling ear to ear. You had no words. Instead you simply just smiled, giggling as you stared at the necklace, doing a little tip-toed hop of excitement in your place. You squealed with excitement.

               “Do you like it?” he hummed.

               “Yes,” you nodded vigorously. “Thank you, thank you!” You set the box to the side, lifting the necklace to your breast, beaming. “Would you be so kind as to put it on for me?”

               “It would be my honor,” he reassured. He carefully unclasped the chain and brushed your hair from the back of your neck and delicately placed it around you, then closed it and let it hang, taking a step back to admire it. “My babygirl.”

               “Mhmm!” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly. “I love it, Josh. Thank you so much.”

               “No need to thank me. You know I love spoiling you,” he reminded. “It’s my job.”

               “How about you spoil me with some cuddles?” you proposed in a sing song voice. “Babygirl always loves daddy’s cuddles!” You kiss him on the cheeks and he chuckles.

               “Well I could never say no to that,” he insists, scooping you up in his arms and taking you to a sofa nearby. He wraps you up in a fluffy blanket and presses a kiss to your lips, then lays down beside you, whispering for you to get some sleep.

               When you wake up, you hear murmuring, and so you decide to keep your eyes closed and eavesdrop softly. You stir slightly and you hear the boys pause, before you resettle and they continue. They’re talking about you. They almost always are.

               “I just don’t know if it’ll be the same,” you hear Josh sigh and you press your lips together, glad you’re turned with your back towards them. “I just really hope we didn’t offend her or hurt her or anything.”

               “We’ll just give her time,” Tyler insists. “And if things aren’t the same, then I guess they just aren’t. It doesn’t mean we won’t miss her any less.”

               “I just hope things won’t be awkward between us,” Josh argues. “Sexual and romantic encounters aside, all feelings taken out of the equation, I still want to be friends. She’s a really amazing person, and I just don’t want to lose her.”

               “Yeah,” Tyler pauses for a moment. “Me too.”

               “Things just feel different I guess,” Josh mumbles. “I mean, new country, new leg of the tour, new changes…”

               “Just make sure she’s okay, yeah?” Tyler asks and you can almost envision Josh nodding. “Good. I will too.”

               You feel a hand go to caress your hair softly and you can’t help but hum, and you hear Josh chuckle softly. “Wake up, baby,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

               The show that night goes smoothly, and you stick to your routine of editing while the boys are showering and settling in for bed, but in the back of your mind, you’re still thinking about what they’ve said. It has been a while, to say that it wasn’t would be a lie, but likewise the boys, you didn’t want things to change. You still craved Josh’s cuddles and affection and Tyler’s kisses and late night fucks. The duality of both of them put together was enough to make you fall to your knees, and you wouldn’t exchange having them for the entire world. You just needed a little bit of time to yourself, that was all. Especially with the break. Now you were back and ready for whatever they had prepared for you. It was much nicer now seeing as each of you had your own hotel rooms for this leg of the tour, although it made you wonder who’s room you’d be spending the night in tonight.

               “Hey,” Tyler sits beside you on the sofa that evening in the floor’s lobby and you close your laptop, smiling at him. “It’s been a while, I feel like I haven’t seen you for literal years.”

               “Same here,” you laugh halfheartedly, flickering your eyes up to his. “I missed you.”

               “Missed you too,” he replies. He leans in for a kiss and before you know it, you’re moving your laptop over to the coffee table and crawling into his lap, straddling his hips, deepening the kiss and pressing your lips onto his. He hums into your mouth and you run your hands up his back, sifting your fingers through his hair, sighing as you both pull away. He leans in to whisper in your ear and you feel your body shudder with anticipation. “I think we have a little bit of catching up to do, hmm?”

               “Please,” you find yourself whining. “I missed you Tyler, I miss you, I need you-”

               “Someone’s desperate,” he smirks and you can’t help but let out a whimper.

               “We need to-” your breath hitches as he grabs your ass. “Move. We need to move. We’ll be caught dead if someone sees us here-”

               “No, you’re right,” he nods, and you slowly climb up off of him, looking around to see if anyone else is present. Thankfully they’re not. “Meet me in my room in five?”

               “Yeah sure,” you try to catch your breath and watch as he walks away, tugging his hoodie down to cover up his hard on. It only makes you even more flustered. You can’t put away your laptop and walk down the hall to his room fast enough.

[songsaboutheroes]

Good Morning Beautiful

(A/N: I got a lovely request for more Syverson fics. First of all, I love it when requests are sent to me. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Secondly, I can and will use any excuse I can to talk about or rather write about Syverson. This story is based on the request sent to me as well as the song “Good Morning Beautiful” by Steve Holy. I need to give credit where credit is due. The song is obviously not mine, the picture above is not mine, and although I desperately want him to be, Syverson is not mine. All rights go to their respective owners.)

Trigger warning: Implied smut, mentions of anxiety and a whole lot of fluff. 

On the long drive back to his home, Captain Syverson had a whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind. How terrible airport coffee is, delayed flights being the biggest of all pains in his ass, how good it felt to be back in familiar territory, and how good it would feel to be back in your arms. It had been an agonizingly slow 12 months being away from each other. But all of that time had passed and there would be a reunion in the very near future.

As the taxi began winding down a very familiar pathway, the butterflies in his stomach began to flutter with each passing house. Every time he thought of your beautiful face there would be a spike in his heart rate. He always joked that you would be the death of him. Oh, but what a way to go. Truth be told, while he was overseas, the thought of not making it back was a reoccurring thought that passed his mind on a daily basis. Never being able to see your smile or hear your laughter again was the driving force that made him be sure, that come hell or high water he was coming back to you. The taxi pulled into the driveway and all of his anxiety had melted away.

He tipped the cab driver as he helped him with his small bit of luggage.

“Welcome home, son,” the old man said with a gentle smile.

Syverson thanked him in turn and all but sprinted to the front porch. He fumbled with his keys for a moment while trying to remain quiet. He couldn't ruin the surprise now. Eventually gaining entry to the house, taking a breath of relief the captain savored the scent of home. Apples and cinnamon. Dragging his luggage behind him,  he made a beeline toward the bedroom. As he set his bags near the closet, he found only an empty bed. Making his way back down the corridor and into the living room is where he found you. Basking in the glow of the television light, asleep on the couch in one of his old t-shirts that had vanished under mysterious circumstances. His heart began to swell with love to the point Syverson was sure it would burst.

He ran a gentle hand down the side of your face before crouching down to the couch level. He loved watching his sleeping beauty. But, as beautiful as you looked, it was time for the surprise.

“Bug,” he whispered while nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “Bug...c’mon pretty girl, open your eyes.”

Sleep still had a strong hold on you as stirred and your body shifted to its side facing him.

“Baby..baby..” He began to pepper kisses on your forehead and cheek.

“C’mon little one.., you have a surprise waiting for you.”

When your eyelids finally fluttered open, they were greeted with a warm smile.

With sleep still heavily coating your voice you revealed “Oh no...I can’t handle these dreams anymore.”

Syverson was fairly certain that he could feel his heart rip at your confession. You closed your eyes in an effort for unconsciousness to claim you again when you heard: “With the way I look, you must be having nightmares.”

Opening your eyes again, you’re met with the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. Sitting up and placing a shaking hand against his whisker covered cheek you take in a shallow breath. This couldn’t be your subconscious playing another vile trick on you. Could it?

“Sy?”

“Hi, bug.”

He braced himself for the gentle attack that was to be expected. You were never one to hide your affections and 3 am was no exception. Throwing both arms around his neck, and legs around his waist, and lips pressed to his, Syverson was knocked unceremoniously to the ground. Thank God you had decided against hardwood flooring.

Breaking away from the kiss Syverson reveals “You know, I'd be lying if I said this wasn’t one of the welcome home greetings I was imagining.”

Typically you’d have a smart ass response but seeing as you were still in a state of shock all you can manage to say was “When did you get back?”

“I landed about an hour ago and rushed all the way back here.”

You needed a minute to take in the scene before you. A year's worth of love letters and short skype calls had done no justice in leading up to the moment that you found yourself in. Placing a stray hair behind your ear and running his thumb across your cheek, he wiped away a tear that had broken the barrier.

“You have absolutely no idea how much I missed you.” You confessed while leaning back down into a bruising kiss.

Breaking away for a mere second, Syverson reveals his own confession.

“Darlin’ I’m fairly certain I can match you in that department.”  

Before any room for a rebuttal could be questioned you're met with another searing kiss. A year's worth of pent up love and affection had been building up to all of those kisses and gentle caresses. And while you were certain to have traces of beard burn the following day, you couldn’t seem to care.

After a few more lingering kisses here, while laying on the floor and using your fiancé as your personal space heater and pillow, there was one question that still remained.

“Babydoll, what were you doing sleeping on the couch?”

You hardly looked comfortable in the position that the Captain had found you in. When he usually got home from work, he’d find you hogging the blankets and his side of the bed.

“I just started to prefer sleeping here.”

“Why?”

“Because the bed stopped smelling like you. When that happened it seemed as though you were gone forever and I could--I couldn’t handle that.”

While retelling the origin story of your new found sleep space, tears had filled your eyes about the possibility of your soon to be husband not coming back home. Syerson gently pulled your head back down to his chest and shushed away the fears that your mind was trying to convince you were a reality.

“I promised you I’d come back and here I am. I’ll always keep my promises to you, bug.”

With your heart simultaneously feeling lighter and fuller than ever before, you rose to your feet and began collecting your pillow and blanket.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for the best night of sleep that I’ll have had in ages.”

Offering an outstretched hand, Syverson pulls himself to his feet with a coy smile.

“What are you thinking about?”

Shrugging his shoulders he responds with an apathetic, “Oh, nothing important.”

As it turns out, with one swift movement, Syverson had managed to throw you over one of his broad shoulders.

“Syverson!” you playfully swat at his backside.

“Ooh, bug! And here I thought you were tired.”

The short walk to the bedroom ended with you being unceremoniously plopped onto the bed.

“Well, I was, but then as it turns out, reality had become better than my dreams could ever hope to be. Truly, baby, my subconscious version of you doesn’t hold a candle to the real deal.”

With an embarrassed chuckle, Syverson finds solace in burying his face in your neck with soft kisses. “Hmm, flatterer.”

“Now, now, don’t be getting all bashful on me now.”

“Bashful? And when have you ever known me to be bashful?”

Now it was your turn to wear the coy smile “It has been quite an awfully long time, honey, I think you may have to prove how bold you can be.”

“I fully intend to.”

Not that the two of you could ever forget each other, there was an ample amount of time reconnecting. Beard burn be damned.

The following afternoon, Syverson had awoken to find himself in a bit of a predicament; the two of you were tangled up in the sheets and one another. Truly he couldn’t tell where you started and he ended. Not that he’d have it any other way. It was so nice to be home and in the arms of his love. With the sunlight gifting you with its rays, it depicted you as the angel he’d always thought you to be. Morning hair and all.

Raising from your slumber, you find yourself on the receiving end of such a love filled stare, it could knock a grown man to his knees. “You know, pictures last longer.”

‘Good morning to you too, beautiful.  I don’t know that a camera would do you justice. Besides, remember what happened last time I took a picture of you?”

“Uhm that was your own fault for not keeping it in a safer place than your wallet.”

“I didn’t know it would fall out!”

“Neither did the poor private who picked up and returned it to you!”

Once upon a time ago, Syverson had taken a not so safe for work picture of the two of you. He’d said that he needed something to remind him of what he had waiting for him at home. Something that would light a fire under his ass so he could come home faster.  Nothing in the picture would be depicted as overly explicit, but the implication of what had taken place previously was there. Similar to your position know. You were laying against the captain's chest with nothing but the sheet covering almost all of you except for the top of your breasts. A rather shy private had seen the captain drop his wallet. While the wallet had been retrieved immediately, a picture had slipped out of it’s home. Upon returning it, the private couldn’t find it in himself to look his superior in the eyes.  A perfect snapshot, indeed. Syverson found the situation to be quite comical.

“‘Poor private’ my ass. Even when you’re not there you’re still gettin’ me into trouble. Besides which, he got to be on the better end of the stick. Gettin’ to see the most magnificent woman he will more than likely ever lay his eyes on.”

“And you call me the flatterer?”

After a few stolen kisses and nuzzling into each other, a question presented itself.

“Did you turn off the T.V. last night?”

[quitetommy]

Never Gonna Leave You

short and sweet but i felt like writing so i hope you enjoy this piece of CRAP :,)))))))

Y/N loved her lovely boyfriend with all her heart. She didn’t know so much love could be held in her tiny little body. Before Tom, the young adult was a sad, lonely loser, but with him, she was her best self. The pretty girl flourished with him. She woke up every morning with a smile on her face, she excelled at her work, she made wonderful, life-long friends, and most of all she was happy. And in love, with both herself and the boy who managed to show her she had a heart and steal it all in the same breath. 

Tom was really amazing. He was so many things, actually. He was a friend (her best friend), a brother (the best one), a comedian (not a very good one, but-), an actor (phenomenal). There was so many thing that Tom was, but the best one? Y/N Y/L/N’s boyfriend. Tom cherished this with his whole life. He loved the pretty girl so so so, SO, much. He felt as he literally would die without her. . . 

Which is why the time away from her was the worst. The absolute worst. He would leave, tears falling from both their eyes and both their hearts breaking. Of course they knew they’d see each other again, shortly, but the second the other left their eyesight, it was absolute hell. Literal hell, a place both Tom and Y/N hated to be. 

 You push me, I don't have the strength to resist or control you. So take me down take me down. You hurt me, but do I deserve this. You make me so nervous.

When Tom was gone, Y/N was left at home, Tessa following the young puppy parent around the small flat. Y/N didn’t mind this; she actually loved it. Tessa’s little nails hitting the wood floor, making the silence more bearable. When Tom was gone, Y/N was constantly wearing his left over hoodies and hugging his pillow to help her fall asleep. When Tom was gone, Y/N and her man constantly video chatted and called and texted. The couple weren’t ever seen without their phone in hand, just in case. 

Today, like no other, Y/N and Tessa were pacing around the messy flat, talking to Tommy. Y/N was lovingly staring at her soulmate, and he was doing the same. He was just so happy to see her, even though he just saw her the day before and it was only through a five inch phone screen. He knew he would be mocked by his friends (Zendaya, Haz, Tony, and Jacob) later, but it was worth it as he got to see the love of his life. 

His heart was practically melting in his chest as he watched his girl pace around, running a hand through her messy hair- just the way he liked it. He practically had on heart eyes. It was expected though, she was absolutely beautiful right then. She had her hair down. It was unwashed and messy and sticking up in the back, but Tom thought it looked dorky and cute. Her beautiful face was free of makeup and he could just imagine all her little freckles that he loved kissing. It was a bummer that he couldn’t see them or kiss them through the phone. She was wearing a green jumper of the boy’s, claiming it smelled like him. The sweater was way to big on her and she had roll up the sleeves so her fingers could poke through. It went all the way bast her ass, and made it possible to not wear pants. On her feet, were a pair of yellow fuzzy socks that Tom had bought her awhile back.

The memory of the sock buying adventure made him laugh everytime. They had been on a late night food run at a nearby Walmart and she had seen them. She threw all her snacks at Tom and picked them off the rack, “Please, please, please, Tommy!” He had countered with a simple, “You don’t need them.” She had come back just a quick, “Yes I do! To slide across the apartment!” Tom remembered her reaching next to the yellow ones for a blue pair, “Look for you, baby!” And that was it, he caved. She had him whipped, and you know what? Tom was completely and utterly okay with it. 

Tom smiled at his darling. “Baby. Baby, guess what?” The phone was a little delayed, so Tom had to wait a moment before she smiled too. “Hmm?”

“Filming is way ahead of schedule and, they’re giving us three weeks off.” Tom smiled wide now, showing the white teeth that Y/N loved to see. She let out a scream and fell to the floor, phone in hand. Tessa was sniffing at her head, making sure there was no danger. Tom laughed at his love. Y/N smiled, “You’re serious?” Tom nodded, so she continued, “When does your flight land? Want me and Tess to get ya?” 

Tom was immediately shaking his head, “No, no. It’ll be late. I’ll just get a cab and sneak into bed with you.” Tom’s lips held a cheesy smile, one that was uber contagious. It was making it hard for Y/N not to smile as well. Her smile was trying to break through, so she just let it. Her emotions got the best of her and she screamed again, “I’m so bloody excited!” 

Calm me down Calm me down. Wake you up in the middle of the night to say, I will never walk away again I'm never gonna leave this bed. So come here and never leave this place. Perfection of your face Slows me down Slows me down So fall down I need you to trust me.

It was around 3AM now. Y/N was too happy and excited to sleep, she was wide awake but tired. Her body, comfortable in the sheets, was begging for sleep, but her mind was busy, busy, busy. It wasn’t until it was almost 4AM that she heard the door unlock, open, and then shut and relock. Tessa jumped up and ran out into the living room, but Y/N stayed put, she even closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. She heard Tom’s bags drop and he laugh, “Hi Tess! Tess, hi girl, where’s your mum?” 

Y/N’s heart warmed and a smile made it’s way onto her face. Her face was towards the bedroom door, so when she heard Tom’s footsteps come to the room and stop, she knew she was busted. She opened her eyes and was met with the beautiful sight of her lover, crossed arms, a smile on his lips, leaning on the wall. She smiled even wider, not sitting up yet, “Hi.”

The word was easy and small, but it held so much meaning. Hi. I love you. I missed your face. Come kiss me. I love you, so much. He licked his lips, cheeks hurting from the smiling. “Hello, love.” The sleepy girl opened her arms and scooted over just a bit. Tom made it work and slid his slim body under the covers next to his girl. 

Go easy, don't rush me. Help me out why don't you help me out Wake you up in the middle of the night to say, I will never walk away again. I'm never gonna leave this bed

His smell made it’s way into Y/N’s nose. It smelled of home and love. She was content, wrapped up in his arms. “Wow, I really missed this.” She was smiling as she said it. Her mind was finally starting to cool. She was listing to his heartbeat, something she missed terribly. 

“I’m never gonna leave you again. I’ve miss you too much, my love. Never again.”

taglist; @darlintom @rainbow-marvel @yoinksholland @spider-bitten @spideres @bi-writer-in-the-dark @marvelouspottering @quacksin @mischiefmanaged49 @friendscallme-emily  @smexylemony  @tom-hollands-eyelash  @tomblrholland @spidey-pal  @lovelyh0lland  @positiveparker @spideymood 

crossed out means it wouldnt tag ya

[shookethbrooketh]

Blanketed

Summary: When a classic snowstorm hits New York City the night before Valentine’s Day, Dan finds himself stranded and unable to catch his flight back home to London, so he does what any functional 27-year-old would do and hits the airport bar. It’s there that he finds another stranded passenger by the name of Phil. The two bond as they learn that they’re going to be stuck in the airport overnight, and in the morning they find themselves cuddled up for warmth underneath the same blanket. But what happens when the snow melts and they have to go their separate ways? 

Warnings: Alcohol

Word Count: 3.7k

Artist: @pine-tree-gi Beta: @themeoweclipse

Read it on Ao3 Read it on Wattpad!

A/N: This is one of two fics I’ve written for the @phandomreversebang, and I love this fic so much. It’s probably the first (fairly) pure fluff I’ve written in a while, and I really enjoyed writing something soft. I hope you enjoy it as well! I know it’s a bit short, but my second one will be longer, I promise :) 

“Bartender? Another drink, please?”

Dan looked up from his empty plastic cup branded on one side with “JFK Airport” in textured letters. The bartender walked over and poured more champagne into his cup. He gave the man a nod and he turned to serve other customers down the bar.

Dan took a sip from his third cup as a man slid into the seat beside him. “Champagne, please?” The bartender poured him a cup identical to Dan’s and then left the two alone. “Lemme guess,” he said, catching Dan off guard. “Snowed in?”

“News flash, buddy; we all are.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder at the departures screen behind him. Every flight was accompanied by a red ‘cancelled’. “Not a single flight leaves until this damn snowstorm dies down and they clear the tarmac.”

“Good to know you’re just as annoyed as I am.” The man chuckled. Dan had never been one to talk to people in social settings, but he seemed to be a good-hearted man trying to make light of a shitty situation.

Dan rotated his barstool toward him and got his first good look at him. He had raven-black hair, and he was wearing a grey jumper covered in foxes along with a jean jacket the cold weather had prompted him to throw on over it. He could only see half of the man’s face, but, in all honesty, he was pretty attractive for an airport luck of the draw.

“I’m Dan.”

“Phil.”

Dan had done his part in the social contract, and they drank in silence for a moment before Phil finally spoke up.

“So, where-” he was cut off by a computerized voice ringing from speakers nobody could seem to locate.

“Attention all travelers. The weather forecast shows the current snowstorm continuing into the morning hours. Our crews cannot clear the tarmac until precipitation stops, so all flights are delayed until at least daylight tomorrow morning. We apologize for the inconvenience; thank you for flying through JFK International Airport.”

There was an audible groan from both men as well as everyone around them. Whines of tired children were heard even from outside the bar.

“Guess we’re gonna be here a while, huh?” Phil asked, shrugging off his jean jacket.

“Sadly,” Dan muttered, swirling the champagne remaining in his plastic cup.

“Hey, lighten up a bit!” Phil shouted, attracting a few glares from people around them. “You look plenty fun; you’re wearing a Christmas jumper in February.” He looked Dan up and down. “And it looks like you brought it through a wormhole from 2009.”

“Oh, thanks. Random strangers talking about my fashion sense is my favorite thing to encounter on an already shitty day.”

“Always happy to deliver.” Another moment’s silence passed. “I like your nails, by the way.”

Dan glanced down at his black-painted nails. He really did look like a 2009 emo. “Thanks,” he said monotonously.

“You seem upset. Like, beyond the level of upset a person would be just by this situation. I know we just met, but do you wanna talk?”

Dan sighed, throwing himself backwards and holding onto the bar to lunge himself back forward. “Boy, have I got a story.” He waved to the bartender. “Another round.”

“So let me get this straight,” Phil said, at least ten minutes later. “You wanted to use Valentine’s Day tomorrow as an excuse to confess to this guy you like, but there’s someone else he likes, and they’re ALSO planning to confess tomorrow, and now that your flight’s delayed, they’ll beat you to it?”

“Yup. I sound like a bloody teenager, but that’s what’s happened.”

“You really are having a bad day. I’m sorry, man. But come on!” he called out again, apparently the loud type. He threw his arm around Dan and shook his shoulder a bit. “Enjoy yourself! It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Have you got any suggestions?”

“You wanna go grab a bite? Might as well get some food before everyone gets paranoid and buys it all up.”

Dan shrugged. “Sure, why the hell not? Might as well not spend the night alone. Besides, I should probably stop drinking, or else I’ll spend the night alone and blacked out.” The two of them looked at the bartender and called out in unison.

“Check!”

A few moments later, they were rounding out their ice cream cones as they strolled through the terminal.

“Remind me why we decided to get ice cream during a snowstorm?” Dan joked, making eye contact with Phil. He hadn’t gotten a good look at his eyes earlier, but they were absolutely gorgeous. They were a wonderfully mixed turquoise with yellow flecks around the pupils; he’d only seen them once, but he knew they would be impossible to forget.

“Because we’re inside a heated airport and there just happened to be an ice cream shop in this terminal.”

“Fair enough,” Dan smiled, taking his first bite of the cone.

“Speaking of, what terminal are you headed to?”

Dan thought for a moment, almost having forgotten the details of his flight after a few drinks. “Terminal three. I only checked in here because the website said the security wait times were slower. I have a bit of a tendency to be late for flights. I thought I was going to miss this one, but, you know...” he trailed off, gesturing to the snowflakes falling through the illuminated night sky.

“Oh, nice! Same here.”

“The terminal, or the irresponsibility?”

Phil laughed, and Dan couldn’t help but smile just at that laugh. “Both.”

After they each laughed and Dan gushed over Phil for a moment, he returned to normal conversation. “Do you think there’s a tram we can take over there? I’ve had enough exercise for one day.”

“Should be. I took a train in, and I’m pretty sure it runs through the airport.” Phil paused for a moment, forcing Dan to do a double take and walk back. “It should be...” he trailed off, looking around; they’d found themselves in a four way intersection. “that way.” He pointed left and turned that way.

“There’s a sign right in front of us, Einstein.”

“Let’s just say I got pretty bored earlier and I happened to be sitting near an airport map.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Nerd.”

After a short ride on the oddly fascinating tram, they were in terminal three, and they were both pleased to find that the terminal had a McDonald’s. Ice cream or no ice cream, Dan was planning to eat dinner on his flight back to London, and he was starving.

“A 20-piece McNugget meal, please.” Phil said to the worker at the counter, who clearly just wanted to go home.

“20 piece! I guess that ‘everyone’ who was buying up all the food out of paranoia was just you.”

Phil shrugged. “Man’s gotta eat.”

There ended up being two 20 McNugget meals in front of them as they sat in the far corner of the terminal. They hadn’t really discussed where to sit; they’d simply walked until they found an open outlet to plug their phones into, which took until the last gate in the terminal. That gate didn’t seem to have a flight planned to fly out of it, so there were no people gathered around it, allowing the boys to have their own little corner in the crowded airport. Sure, there were plenty of people within the vicinity, but it still felt as if they had a bit of privacy in their own space. And, most importantly, they could charge their phones.

“I cannot believe you got ketchup,” Phil scoffed at Dan as he dipped his McNugget into the ketchup pile he’d made on the open lid of his box.

“Don’t shame me for my dipping sauce choices!”

“Come on! Barbecue is obviously superior.” Phil made sure Dan was watching as he dipped a nugget of his own into his barbecue sauce and dramatically ate it.

“Do you wanna fight, Phil?”

“Do it, you won’t!” Dan quickly dipped a nugget in ketchup and shoved it in the direction of Phil’s mouth, smearing ketchup all over his face. “Hey!”

Phil glared at him as he dipped a nugget in barbecue and attempted to give Dan a taste of his own medicine. The two continued to shove nuggets in each other’s faces like children until finally Dan cried out. “Stop! Stop the violence!” The two paused, getting a few looks from random travelers in earshot. “I’ll eat yours, and you’ll eat mine.” They politely handed each other their nuggets and each took a bite. “Hmm,” Dan said, surprised. “This isn’t half bad.”

Phil looked up from the cup he was downing a sip of soda from. “Ketchup still sucks.”

Dan shoved him a bit, and they both laughed. Luckily, they ignored the dipping sauce choices for the fries and continued their meals until they’d each eaten to their heart’s content. They both smelled horribly of ketchup and barbecue sauce, but it was definitely worth it.

It was beginning to grow late, and the airport had dimmed the lights, allowing people around them to settle down and try to sleep. “This is so fucking uncomfortable,” Dan whispered, turning to Phil.

“We’ve both got carry-ons, right? We’ve got to have some useful things in there.” Phil sat up and unzipped the bag he was resting his head on. “I, for one, never travel without a blanket.”

“Phil, you’re a life saver.” Dan opened his carry-on, which was significantly smaller than Phil’s. “I’ve got a pillow, but it isn’t big. I think there’s still one store open down the terminal we can buy some small pillows from. If they’ve got enough, we can buy some to sit on and to rest our backs and heads on. Here’s some money; we can pool some together.”

“That’s a great idea!” Phil exclaimed, rummaging through his bag and pulling out about the same amount of money as Dan. “Stay here; I’ll go buy them out.”

“You really like buying people out of things, don’t you?” Dan asked, a smile crossing his face.

“It’s my specialty.”

A few minutes later, Dan looked up from his phone to see Phil waddling back down the terminal with pillows stacked up over his head. He jumped up and took a few from him so that he could see his face. “How did you get back down here in the dark with all those blocking your view?”

Phil shrugged. “Luck?”

Dan rolled his eyes and set down a couple of pillows for them to sit on. “Guess you didn’t bring back any change.”

“They had a lot of pillows,” he said as if to defend his actions. They each took a pillow and placed it behind their backs, topping it off with a pillow behind each of their heads.

“Clearly.”

After sitting independently on their phones for a while, Dan decided his phone had enough charge and unplugged it, favoring a pair of headphones and a dongle. “You want to watch some Netflix?” Dan asked, nudging Phil.

“Hell yeah!” he gravitated closer to Dan to see the phone. “What’ve you got?” Dan scrolled through his Netflix for a few seconds before Phil reached out and scrolled back up and settled on an icon. “You watch Queer Eye?”

“I love Queer Eye! I’m only halfway through season 2, though.”

“I don’t have Netflix, so I’ve never seen it, but I’ve always wanted to. Pick up where you left off; I’ll get into it quickly.”

They dove immediately into the show. Dan had to explain the premise and characters to Phil, but he really did pick up quickly. Then, every now and then they’d have to pause to discuss a good joke or especially gay moment. Ultimately, it ended up taking them an hour and fifteen minutes to watch 46 minutes of content. After the one video, they were both about ready to doze off.

“You know, Phil,” Dan said, plugging his phone back in. “I’ve never really had anyone to discuss Queer Eye with before. I really enjoyed that.”

Phil’s face was difficult to see in the darkness, but Dan could tell he was smiling. “I enjoyed it a lot too.” Phil bit his lip, avoiding eye contact. “I enjoyed... you.”

“What do you mean enjoyed?”

“Huh?”

“I’m still here.”

“What?”

“You said enjoyed. Past tense. But I’m still here. Enjoy, present tense.”

“Oh. Well, I enjoy your presence, I guess.”

“Hey Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“You know why I said that?”

“No. In fact, it just made this situation extremely awkward, so I can’t imagine why.”

“Because it would be significantly more awkward if I told you I liked you in the past tense, when, in fact, I like you. Present tense.”

“Oh.” They sat in silence, the sound of people shifting in their sleep around them filling the void. After a few seconds, Dan felt a hand slide into his underneath the blanket. He turned his head to see Phil grinning wildly at him. “I like you too.” Then Phil was leaning in, and before Dan even had time to think about it, Phil was kissing him. Dan’s eyes bugged out of his head, but he settled into it and eventually began to kiss him back, a feeling of peace filling his stomach. For that one moment, they forgot that they were complete strangers. They forgot that they didn’t even know each other’s last names, and they definitely forgot that they’d wake up in the morning and go their separate ways. In that one moment, none of those things mattered. After what felt like an eternity that somehow wasn’t long enough, they disconnected, but their fingers remained intertwined at their waists.

“Goodnight, Phil,” Dan said, nestling his head into the crook of Phil’s neck.

Phil kissed his forehead and settled himself under the blanket with him. “Goodnight, Dan.”

Dan awoke to sunlight pouring in through the airport windows. He yawned and checked his phone before slipping it in his pocket; it was a bit past 8:00. Other travelers were moving about the terminal and getting breakfast, but there was still no movement at any of the gates.

Dan immediately and painfully realized that he hadn’t gone to the bathroom in about twelve hours and tried to carefully slide out from under the blanket so as to not wake Phil. It took him a few seconds to stand up, but when he did he looked down and saw Phil still asleep, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He started to walk in the direction of the bathroom when he heard stirring behind him. He clenched his face up in knowledge that he had failed and pivoted to face Phil, who was blinking his eyes open.

“Morning,” Dan said, looking down at him.

“Morning,” Phil groaned, his voice deep from sleep.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom; you start getting our stuff together.”

Phil nodded groggily as Dan made his way down to the strip of stores in the middle of the terminal. He glanced at the flight screen to find that no flights had been announced to be leaving soon; he was thankful for that, as his gate was in the half of the terminal on the other side of the stores from where he and Phil had set up camp, and he definitely didn’t feel like running back and forth that early in the morning.

The trip to the bathroom took ages; the line was so massive that he was sure Phil could have packed twenty bags in the time he was gone. Eventually, he returned from emptying his bladder to find Phil extending his bag to him. It was significantly puffier than it was the night before. “How many pillows did you put in there?”

“Two.”

“I can’t believe you fit the other four in your bag.”

“I’m magic.”

They walked down the terminal and back to the McDonald’s. “You know, Dan,” Phil said, a grin on his face. “I know McDonald’s serves breakfast, but I’d rather have a McFlurry.”

“Do you always eat this much ice cream?”

Phil laughed. “I wish!”

They stood in front of a window as they each downed their respective M&M McFlurry. The tarmac was blanketed in a layer of white, and trees in the distance glimmered in the winter sun. Dan could see a snowplow clearing off the tarmac in another terminal. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Dan asked. “I love to see the world blanketed in snow.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, turning to look at Dan. “But not as beautiful as you,” he said, pulling a bouquet of chocolate roses out of nowhere. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Dan.”

Clearly Phil was thinking of another kind of blanket. A dark, anxious feeling made its way into Dan’s stomach. “Where did you even get those? And when?” he asked, reluctantly taking them.

“Airports have everything. I found them this morning while you were in the bathroom.” He smiled, seeming quite proud of himself.

Dan sighed. “We should probably talk about this.”

“What? Did I overstep?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just-I met you yesterday, and we’re complete strangers. After this is over, we’re probably never going to see each other again. Are you sure we should do this?”

Phil took Dan’s hands, and Dan elected to stare at the floor. “Look at me.” Dan sighed and looked into Phil’s colourful eyes. “Maybe we’ll never see each other, or maybe we’ll come across some sort of miracle and we will. Regardless, what have we got to lose?”

Dan bit his lip and took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Phil said, giving Dan a short kiss.

“Attention all travelers,” said the computerized intercom voice. Both gasped and separated to listen to the message. The entire area settled into complete silence. “The tarmac is currently being cleared, and flights are beginning to be rescheduled. Arrivals will continue as scheduled, and departure times will depend on whether your plane was here when the snow began or if it still has to fly in. Please check the departure board for specific flight details. Thank you for flying through JFK International Airport!”

A cheer erupted through the terminal as a whole wave of passengers made its way towards the arrival and departure screens. “Something tells me we should finish our ice cream before going over there,” Phil said.

Dan watched people shouting at each other as they attempted to jump and shove each other out of the way to see their flights. In all honesty, it was purely terrifying. “Smart.”

After the area cleared up some, the two gathered their things and strolled over to the screens. Dan found his flight fairly quickly. “Mine’s back on. Leaving in half an hour.”

“Mine is too.”

The two turned to each other, a somber look on each’s face. “Guess this is goodbye?” Dan said, taking Phil’s hand in his.

“Guess so.”

They fell into a tight embrace. “Thanks for the blanket.”

“Thanks for the ice cream.”

They fell back into a kiss lasting longer than their first. This time, Dan felt a spark he didn’t feel the first time. He bit his lip, angry at himself for falling for someone in the last moment they’d ever be together. “I’m gonna miss you, Phil.”

“I’ll miss you too.” They smiled faintly at each other before Dan turned and began walking toward his gate. It wasn’t long before he realized Phil was still beside him. After walking about half the terminal, they were still side by side.

“Well, this is awkward,” Dan chuckled. Could Phil just leave already so he could mourn in peace?

Dan began to trail off towards his gate. “Dan?” He turned to see a genuine smile on Phil’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re flying into London.”

“Oh my God,” Dan said, doubling over in laughter. “We’re on the same flight, aren’t we?” Phil nodded, unable to speak from laughter. “Do you live in the city?” Phil nodded again, attempting to compose himself. “I do too!” Dan sighed as they wandered to take two empty seats in the corner. “How do these things happen?”

“I have no clue.”

“We were together for twelve hours; how did we never one ask each other where we were going?”

“I was going to when I first met you, but that dumb announcement cut me off!”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh again. “We both have British accents; how did we not expect this?”

“Two Dumbasses in an Airport: 2018′s worst romance movie.”

Each of them laughed so hard their stomachs hurt. When Dan finally wiped the final tear from his eye, Phil gave him a bit of a nudge. “Hey Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“When we get back to London, do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?” Phil asked, excessively awkward for the context of their situation.

“Of course, you dork. I’ve kissed you what, four times now? You think I’m going to turn down a date?”

“Hey, you never know. You were talking about that guy earlier.”

“Hey. I found someone else.” The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile.

An intercom beeped on near them and this time a real, male voice spoke from the desk near the gate. “Flight 1728 to London is now boarding.” The two jested of their stupidity as they turned their boarding passes in to the attendant and boarded the plane. Dan found his seat about midway through the plane, but Phil kept walking.

“Guess this is goodbye,” Phil said, altering his voice to sound like Dan.

“That’s a horrible impression of me,” Dan said, rolling his eyes. He smiled at Phil as he took his seat. “See you in London, valentine.”

“Or sooner,” Phil said with a wink, taking off before Dan had a chance to respond.

Dan stared off into space as he put in his earbuds. It was going to be an interesting seven hours.

[vagrantblvrd]

Coming in Like Lightning (1/1)

Summary: The whole thing with Los Santos starts as a dumb bet, which should tell you everything you need to know right there.

Notes: Based off this fic idea I had a while back. (Because reasons.)

AO3

Geoff’s shooting the shit with Burnie in his office late one night. Sharing a bottle of whiskey between them while they reminisce about the good old days back when they were stupid kids just starting out in this life.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and no idea what was ahead of them in their futures, but fucking hell were they determined to get there as fast as they could. Convinced they were headed for greatness and intent on making it happen no matter what it cost.

Looking back on it, it was pretty stupid of them. Should have gotten them killed, but somehow they made it work. Went from being a group of mismatched individuals to the driving force behind a criminal empire spanning the country, its reach growing longer each day.

“God, we were stupid,” Burnie laughs, some gray starting to slip in his beard, peppering his hair.

Creases at the corner of his eyes and lines around his mouth because the fucker laughs like no one else Geoff knows.

They’re not old, but they sure as hell aren’t young anymore.

“Christ,” Geoff says, grin on his face. “We still are.”

They really, really are.

Geoff watches the city skyline through those ridiculous windows of Burnie’s, and makes the mistake of telling the fucker there are times he feels like he might as well retire now.

They’ve got the next generation set up to take over now, hard-earned experience under their belts and this hunger to them they’ve lost along the way. Traded it for things, people, here and there as they grew the fuck up and realized money and power will only get you so far. That if you wanted to have anything worth keeping, you had to give something up for it.

They’ll learn that too one day, these kids. They’re smarter than the four of them ever were, and they’re not alone. Have the Founders standing behind them if they need it, but something tells Geoff they won’t. (Smart kids, after all.)

Burnie snorts and pours Geoff another round, eyebrow raised as Geoff reaches for it, corner of his mouth quirked.

Old bets made by stupid kids, and the whiskey burns as it goes down. Geoff knocking it back like it’s nothing because he used to have money riding on it, but now it’s more of a pride thing.

Burnie’s laugh fills the office, and a moment later Geoff’s joins it because it’s hard not to.

“That so,” Burnie says when his laughter trails off a while later.

Geoff shrugs, because hell if he’s done anything meaningful when it comes to the Roosters in a long while.

Burnie hums, and something to it reaches through the pleasant haze of alcohol, sharp enough to make him pay attention because he knows that thoughtful little hmm too damn well.

“Burns?”

There’s a thing, about the Founders.

About Burnie and Geoff in particular and all the stupid bets they’ve made over the years. From the stupidest shit to things that rocked the foundations of their city until everyone knew who the fuck the Roosters were. (Hullum and Gus and goddamned in the mix there somewhere, but for the most part they liked to stand back and wait until the dust settled before they made their move.)

“Los Santos,” Burnie says, and pulls out a shiny little tablet to bring up a map of the city. Spins it around to face Geoff with that same fucking smirk he gets when he thinks he’s about to get one over on someone. “You’ve heard of it?”

========

“So,” Jack says, so goddamned amused as he sits on the side of Geoff’s bed. “I hear we’re headed to Los Santos.”

Geoff rubs a hand over his face and tries to remember what the fuck happened the night before. His head hurts – hell, his everything hurts – and he feels old and wrung out. (Hangover, his old friend.)

Jack sighs, and for one small hopeful moment when he gets up, Geoff actually thinks he’s going to let him sleep it off, but of course he doesn’t.

This is Jack, and he’s a monster.

Geoff actually recoils with a hiss when Jack pulls the blinds up to let sunlight in. Tries to burrow under the tangle of blanket but Jack is relentless and merciless as all hell, ripping them out of his hands.

“Oh, fuck no,” Jack says, super nice and pleasant and anyone who says the man doesn’t have a mean bone in his body doesn’t know him half as well as they think they do. “Our flight leaves tomorrow, you need to fucking pack, you asshole.”

Geoff presses his face against the mattress in the vain hope he can smother himself because bits and pieces of the night before are coming back to him, but it doesn’t work.

“Up, Geoff,” Jack says, dumping the blankets on the floor beside the bed as he leaves. “You have a lot of shit to get done.”

Geoff sighs when he hears the door shut behind him, and flops over on his back like a fish out of water because -

He made a bet with Burnie, and those have always felt like making a deal with the devil. Chipping off another piece of his soul and handing it over in the hopes he’d win this time.

A soft chime fills the air, and Geoff turns his head towards the end table. Reaches over to snag the stupid tablet Burnie gave him as a going away present. When he unlocks it, the map of Los Santos is still up, and there's an email notification.

Common sense tells him not to open it, but Geoff’s shit at that, so he taps the icon.

It’s from Burnie, because of fucking course it is, and there’s an attachment.  A video with last night’s date

No guesses as to what’s on it, but Geoff hits the play button anyway because he’s a glutton for punishment.

His dumb face comes up, drunk as fuck and throwing Burnie’s original bet in his face. Telling him he can make Los Santos his bitch in under a year, because Geoff is an idiot but drunk Geoff is a million times stupider.

“Oh, Christ,”Geoff mutters, tablet falling from hands to hit him in the face, video still playing if a bit muffled now “I’m so fucking stupid.”

And because the universe hates him that much, Burnie in the the video starts laughing.

========

Geoff decides to swear off drinking, because all it’s ever done for him was get him in trouble, and this stupid bet he’s agreed to is looking to be much the same.

========

The airport’s crowded as always, bustling crowds and harried people trying to get wherever the hell they’re headed with a minimum of fuss. Most manage to do so, others get the short stick and the rest just get shit on.

Geoff and Jack are somewhere in the middle at the moment. Flight delayed due to inclement weather and Jack’s on top of it.

Speaking of, Geoff looks over at Jack, knot of guilt eating him up because Jack’s got a life here. A good life, nothing like what they had when the Roosters were starting to gain a foothold in this city.

And because Geoff is an idiot with a big mouth, he’s uprooting Jack and dragging him halfway across the country on a fucking bet.

“Jack - “

“Shut the fuck up, Geoff,” Jack says, not unkindly

Geoff shuts the fuck up, waits patiently until Jack’s done with whatever he’s doing and looks up at him.

He doesn’t look angry or annoyed, or even particularly troubled at this sudden upheaval in his life, and more like fondly exasperated.

“Uh - “

“If you think,” Jack starts, mild tone of voice that’s honestly terrifying because Jack. “Geoff, if  you think I’m going to let you head off to goddamned Los Santos on one of your stupid bets alone, I will straight up fucking murder you.”

Strangely touching, if a bit alarming.

“...okay?” Geoff tries, and breathes a sigh of relief when Jack smiles at him.

“Good,” Jack says, and clears his throat, eyes skipping away from Geoff’s as he goes back to his phone.

Geoff fidgets, shifting his weight from foot to foot before he deiced the hell with it and grabs Jack in an awkward little side hug.

“Thanks Jack,” he murmurs, relieved more than he can say.

Jack huffs in annoyance, and pulls Geoff into a proper hug, complete with super manly back slapping because he’s a brute.

“You’re welcome, asshole. Now let’s never talk about this again, the way men are supposed to.”

Geoff snorts a laugh, shoulders shaking as Jack breaks down laughing as well because they’re a pair of idiots and it’s kind of awesome.

========

To be fair, Burnie didn’t send the two of them to Los Santos to die.

He sent the two of them to Los Santos to handle the expansion of the Rooster’s criminal empire, which might look a hell of a lot like the same thing from the outside, but it is not.

Mostly not, anyway.

They have an old warehouse renovated with living spaces. A small support team to make sure once Geoff and Jack get things rolling they stay that way. A list of reliable contacts who Geoff is going to have to schmooze properly to get things rolling. Requisite funding from the Roosters until they’re turning a profit out here.

Not exactly starting from scratch, but in a city like this, it’s still a hell of a challenge.

The parameters of the bet are for Geoff to set up a crew of his own out here, grow its operations until they have the city under their control, and that -

“Holy shit,” Geoff murmurs, watching the news. “This place is worse  than back home.”

Which makes sense, because the Roosters have been running things there for a long time. Stamp out trouble before it starts and keeps everyone in line. Actually made the city safer for everyone there, and for whatever godforsaken reason drunk Geoff told Burnie he could do the same in Los Santos.

“You’ve got meetings today,” Jack says was he wanders over to set the tablet Burnie gifted him with down. “A lot of them.”

Reluctantly, Geoff picks the tablet up and scrolls through the appointments. Scrolls.

“Jesus dicks,” he mutters, because he hates meetings.”How much shit would Burnie give me if I backed out now?”

Jack hmms as he strokes his beard like he’s thinking about it.

“Well,” Jack says, like the bastard he is. “The answer you’re looking for here is a metric shit-ton, I believe? But you’re also forgetting all the shit the rest of the Founders will give you. And myself, among others.”

The entire fucking organization, Geoff knows, because everyone in the damn crew is an asshole, and Geoff hates them all.

“Okay, yeah,” he concedes. “Point.”

========

After the first full day of meetings, Geoff wants a goddamned drink.

“I want a goddamned drink,” Geoff groans, chin resting on his folded arms as Jack organizes Geoff’s meetings for tomorrow.

Sure, he’s sworn off drinking, but Geoff really fucking hates meetings and there’s a hell of a lot of them in his foreseeable future.

Driving all over the damn city to meet paranoid, greedy fuckers to make sure they don’t accidentally kick off a gang war.

“That’s nice, Geoff,” Jack mumbles absently. “There’s diet soda in the mini-fridge.”

Geoff feels his mouth pull up in a tired smile as he gets up to grab one, and grabs a beer for Jack while he’s at it.

========

Geoff’s schedule over the next few weeks is pretty much the same old same old.

Get up, make himself presentable, charm the fuck out of people so as not to get himself and the people relying on him not to fuck this up killed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, strike a deal of two that’ll bring in come money, allow them to expand their operation out here.

Catch shaky camera footage of himself and Jack on the news and see reporters and so-called experts debating what it means for the city of Los Santos for a Rooster of his standing to be here.

Call Burnie up and demand to know why the fucker didn’t tell him they’ve broken up after a decades long love affair in which Geoff turned angry and bitter and left to start his own crew.

“Torrid, asshole. Our torrid love affair,” Burnie corrects between gasps of air, and Geoff grins as he pictures that idiot laughing himself sick over the tabloids Geoff sent to him. “And also, fuck you for breaking my goddamned heart.”

Geoff leans back in his office chair and kicks his feet up on his desk because it’s been a long couple of weeks and he kind of misses the son of a bitch.

“It’s what you get for breaking mine first, fucker.”

Burnie’s laughter peters off after a bit, but Geoff can still hear the smile in his voice.

“Gonna give up?”

Geoff’s office is the old manager’s office overlooking the main floor of the warehouse. He can see his support crew down below, hard at work while Jack troubleshoots. All of them talented people with the kind of hunger to them that’s going to make this city his – theirs – soon enough.

“Nah,” he says, “I’ve got this.”

========

The next day someone tries to break into his fucking car when he goes to a more or less legitimate meeting regarding some real estate he’s looking at, so there’s that.

“Nice,” Geoff says, because whoever tried to break into his car broke the driver’s side window and left the twisted up coat hanger on the driver’s side seat along with all the safety glass. “Really. Thanks a fucking lot for that, asshole.”

There’s a cough a little ways down, the sort that tends to cover up a laugh.

Geoff turns his head and there’s a guy leaning against a building smoking a cigarette. Light brown hair pulled up into man bun - man bun - collar of his coat pulled up against the wind and hand with the cigarette hovering in front of his mouth.

“Hey, you see anything, buddy?” Geoff asks, not expecting much, because Los Santos and all.

The guy shakes his head and flicks ash from the end of his cigarette.

“No, sorry,” he says with an apologetic shrug, and Geoff doesn’t go weak at the knees at the sound of his voice because he’s not a goddamned teenager anymore, but it sure as hell didn’t not affect him because Geoff is still very human. “Just stepped out for a smoke.”

The guy’s watching him curiously, blue, blue eyes, and it really must have been a long time since Geoff gave any thought to finding someone if some stranger is getting to him like this.

“Thanks anyway,” Geoff says, because he’d figured as much, and reaches for his phone to call Jack.

========

Things start to pick up after a few weeks of Geoff shaking hands with people and making promises that won’t cost him too much of what’s left of his soul.

Jack brings him a list of names. People he thinks would be a good fit for the crew.

“You come up with a name for us yet?” Jack asks, flipping through the files the support team put together on them.

Geoff shrugs, attention on the news and the latest piece about his presence in Los Santos. Old mugshots from the early days, and goddamn it’s weird seeing himself without all the tattoos.

One of the “experts” seems to think the idiot in the short video clip of Geoff someone took isn’t actually him. That it’s an actor or someone trying to capitalize on his reputation here in Los Santos to scam morons out of money before running.

It’s insulting and amusing at the same time, watching them try to figure out what’s going on.

“I dunno,” Geoff muses. “They seem pretty convinced I’m a fake, don’t they?”

There’s this pause, sound of papers being shuffled before Jack laughs, Geoff joining in a moment later because he kind of likes the way it sounds.

========

Geoff’s heard of Brownman before. One of the best snipers around who hasn’t committed himself to crew or gang. Likes the freedom of being able to pick and choose his jobs, and a reputation for coming down hard on anyone who tries to double-cross him.

He didn’t expect the fucker to be so damn young, though.

Skinny kid in a purple hoodie and this wary look in his eyes when Geoff drops down in the seat across from him in some hipster coffee shop.

Not his ideal place for a meeting like this, but he can work with it.

Jack’s in line for a coffee, and Geoff smiles at the way Brownman tracks him, searching the other coffee shop patrons to see which ones are Geoff’s. (The answer is none of them, by the way, because Geoff didn’t come here to make an enemy of Brownman.)

“I’m looking for a guy with your particular talents,” Geoff says. “If you’re interested, that is. Contract work, that kind of thing.”

Brownman isn’t looking for a crew, but Geoff wouldn’t mind working with him from time to time. Let the kid know he won’t have any problems from them, and who knows? Maybe something good will come of it.

Brownman studies him for a long moment, eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and snorts. Tension bleeding out of him.

“I don’t put out on the first date,” Brownman says, head tipped to the side. “Just so you know going into things.”

Oh, Geoff likes this kid.

========

After a few months the hard work the support team’s been putting in allows Geoff to sign the lease for a place close to the Dell Perro Pier. It gives him his own space back and lets the support team take over the warehouse the way they’ve been itching to since the beginning.

It’s not quite a penthouse, but the only other apartment on the same floor is Jack’s, which is nice.

“We’re going to have a penthouse bigger than Burnie’s one day,” Geoff tells him, taking in the view through the living room windows. “Show that fucker what class looks like.”

He can hear Jack rolling his eyes, but the asshole doesn’t say a damn thing which means he’s in agreement with Geoff on that one.

========

Geoff’s apartment’s a good ten stories up, give or take, and someone tries to get in through the windows.

The windows.

Geoff’s checking his texts before bed when he hears noise coming from his living room. Being the kind of idiot he is, he grabs his gun out of the nightstand and goes to investigate, and then -

“What the fuck.”

It’s the middle of the night and there’s a guy on a window washer platform on the other side of his living room windows. He’s dressed up like a burglar in some terrible made for television movie and using a glass cutter to get in like this is some kid’s cartoon.

The guy freezes when he notices Geoff. Slowly releases the suction cups on the glass cutter and tucks it away in his bag like he’s hoping Geoff won’t notice.

“No, seriously,” Geoff says, because what the fuck?

This has never happened to him before, what the hell does he do here?

He’d feel bad about shooting the guy because he’s very clearly an idiot, but he should probably do something about this, right?

Geoff doesn’t, though. Too fucking confused by what this idiot even thought he was doing, and watches as he slowly raises the platform until he’s out of sight.

Any other time, and Geoff would head up to the roof to catch him. Get some answers from him, but with this guy it feels a little like kicking someone when they’re down.

========

“What the fuck is that?”

Geoff looks over to where Jack is staring at the marks the would-be burglar left on his living room window, and right. That was a thing that happened.

“Hell if I know,” Geoff answers, because he doesn’t even know where to start with that one. “I thought you wanted to talk about getting more people for the crew?”

Jack shoots him a suspicious look because he knows Geoff too damn well by now. Years of friendship and dealing with Geoff’s bullshit, but he lets it go for now, which is a hell of a relief.

“We need someone with demolitions expertise,” Jack says, and the window incident is forgotten as they go through the candidates.

========

Mogar turns out to be a kid who might have a few years on Brownman, but not much.

Geoff likes him from the start, and from the way Jack’s looking at him, so does he.

They’re in an all-night diner where the owners turn a blind eye to this kind of thing.

“This is fucking stupid,” Mogar mutters, picking apart the half-assed plan Geoff and Jack put together as a test. “You’re going to get everyone killed if you use this much C4. Who the fuck thought this would work?”

Geoff shrugs, watching Mogar pull a napkin out of the dispenser to draw out a feasible plan that won’t get anyone killed, bitching about whatever idiot came up with the original plan.

“I like him,” Jack says, grin in his voice because Mogar’s too lost in his work to notice. “We’re keeping him, right?”

“Motherfucker,” Mogar hisses, finding some new fault in their shitty plans to be angry about.

Geoff laughs, because they sure the fuck are.

========

Geoff runs into Man Bun a few days later. Back at the real estate agent’s office with Jack, and there he is, taking another smoke break

“Hey,” Man Bun says, sounding happy to see him. “Fancy seeing you again.”

Geoff hesitates before he waves Jack to go on ahead as he goes over to talk to him.

Because manners, yes.

Jack gives him this amused smirk, which is in no way appreciated at all before he gets the fuck out of there.

“Uh,” Man Bun says, and Geoff should not find the his frown as adorable as he does, he’s an adult for Christ's sake. “I didn't interrupt anything, did I?”

“Nah, Geoff says, feeling a little like an idiot, because what the hell is he doing?

Man Bun looks at him for a long moment before he shrugs, little smile tugging at his mouth.

========

“Does your boyfriend have a name, Geoffrey?”

God, Jack is such an insufferable asshole.

“...his name is Ryan,”Geoff says quietly.

He tries not to think about the scrap of paper in his coat pocket or the number on it he’s never gong to call.

In another life, maybe, but in this one?

Geoff’s one of the Founders. Helped build the Roosters from the ground up and he came to Los Santos to do the same all over again with his own crew, and it’s not going to be easy.

He already has enemies, people who’d be fucking delighted to use Ryan to get to him. Break him down and send whatever is left to Geoff just to make a goddamn point.

Geoff’s not so selfish that he’d put him through that just because he likes the sound of his voice or can’t get over how fucking blue his eyes are.

He can feel Jack watching him.

“Geoff - “

“We’re going to be late for our appointment,” Geoff says, cutting him off because he doesn’t want to talk right now. “And Lindsay is going to kill us if we don’t get her more warehouses for storage, so hurry the fuck up, Jack.“

========

With Brownman and Mogar on board, Geoff figures they’re ready to make a little noise.

Pull everyone’s eyes to the assholes blowing shit up and robbing banks and all that shit while the support team quietly goes about the real work of expanding the crew’s operations throughout the city.

Lindsay and Trevor have things in hand there, and Los Santos has been waiting for him to make his move, so why disappoint?

========

“Fucking Christ!” Michael yells, ducking back into cover as bullets whiz past. “This was the shittiest plan in the world!”

Dozens of cop cars puled up in front of the bank along with a few news vans. Choppers in the air and to be fair to Michael, it does look pretty bad.

Geoff hands Michael fresh ammo and reloads his own assault rifle, unable to help his laughter.

God help him, but he’s missed this.

The chaos and noise and he’s definitely a little fucked in the head, but damn it’s nice to get back to basics.

There’s adrenalin's zipping through his veins, lips stretched into a wide grin as the cops order them to put their weapons down and come up with their hands up.

Ray’s out there keeping the cops off them and Jack’s inbound with a Cargobob. He and Michael have the money and they’ll be home scot-free in a few minutes.

“Everything’s fine Michael, just stick to the plan,” Geoff says, patting him on the shoulder as he pops out of cover to fire off a few rounds.

Behind him he can hear Michael bitching about Geoff and Jack and how goddamned stupid he was to sign on with their fucking crew, and grins as Michael stands up beside him to fire towards the cops trying to flank them.

“Take that, you fuckers!”

========

The news outlets go nuts for weeks afterward, buzzing about the Fake AH Crew and their daring daylight bank robbery.

The city’s in an uproar and Geoff is riding high on their success, so of course he comes across the hapless would-be burglar again.

This time it’s at the support teams main warehouse as he’s seeing to paperwork and goes to investigate (still that kind of idiot) when he hears a loud crashing noise downstairs.

“Seriously,” Geoff says, coughing on dust that came down with the air vent the idiot was crawling through. “What the fuck.”

The would-be burglar doesn’t say anything, which is fair because he just fell out of the vent on his back.

“Is - “ Geoff stops, frowns down at the guy as he starts to sit up. “Are you okay?”

The would-be burglar nods, reaching up to fix the balaclava he’s wearing to hide his face that’s been twisted around a bit, and Geoff catches a glimpse of his hair before he tucks that out of sight.

When he looks at Geoff, he notices that the would-be burglar is wearing glasses of some sort – goggles, maybe? - under it all that gives the whole thing a vaguely skull-like appearance.

Eerie and unsettling and some half-forgotten memory in the back of Geoff’s mind.

The would-be burglar sighs, shoulders slumping as he looks at the mess around him.

Watching him, Geoff gets the impression the would-be burglar is more concerned about how his brilliant plan has somehow failed him than being caught in the act.

“Not to be that asshole,” Geoff says, but he’s absolutely going to be that asshole. “You do know who I am, right?”

Geoff’s never ever actually said that in his life, because yeah, no, but -

The would-be burglar just looks at him, startling a laugh out of Geoff.

His face has been plastered all over the news on and off for months now, and after the band robbery it’s all anyone’s talking about. Trying to determine what his next move will be like they have any idea.

“Fine,” Geoff huffs, and then frowns, because he has no idea what to do with this idiot.

Kill him, probably, because he’s not the best burglar out there, sure, but he did get past the warehouse’s security measures. He’s already made a try at breaking into Geoff’s apartment, and he has a sneaking suspicion he might be the guy who tried to break into his car that time. (No proof, but his gut is telling him it’s connected.)

“Are you here to kill me?” Geoff asks, because he probably should, just to be safe.

He’s been making enough waves in Los Santos’ criminal underworld to warrant a hit being put out on him.

The would-be burglar shakes his head, and Geoff decides to believe him, because it would be even sadder to find out this idiot is just that bad at killing someone.

“Alright,” Geoff says and figures since he’s down here anyway he might as well grab himself a can of diet soda. On a whim, and since he still feels bad for the guy, Geoff gets one for him too.”Jack’s going to be in at nine, you might want to be gone by then.”

That said, Geoff heads back up to his office to finish his paperwork before Jack gets in to nag him about it.

========

“Geoff.”

“Jack.”

“The fuck happened downstairs?”

There’s badly hidden worry in Jack’s voice, which makes Geoff feel like a guilty kid keeping secrets from his parents.

He never actually told Jack about the attempted break in at his apartment, although he must have figured it out by now. Especially with the mess downstairs the would-be burglar made a token effort to clean up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Geoff says, and tries not to laugh at Jack’s long-suffering sigh.

========

When Geoff gets home that night there’s a case of diet soda on his kitchen table with a note.

Sorry about the warehouse, but thanks for the drink.

There’s a drawing of a skull in place of the signature - eerie and unsettling, especially with no signs of a break-in to speak of.

Geoff shakes his head as he takes a can for himself and puts the rest in the fridge, because only in Los Santos.

========

After the bank robbery they talk about going a little bigger. Bringing in more muscle, another gun, and not too long afterward Michael drags a kid to Geoff’s apartment.

Both of them more than a little drunk and looking like they’ve been through hell. Fresh bruises and blood on their faces like terrifying war paint and fucking grinning like idiots.

“Geoff!” Michael says (yells), “I got us a guy!”

Geoff squints at Michael.

At his buddy.

At the ugly designer clock on the wall Gus sent him as a apartment warming gift because he’s a bastard and hates Geoff more than anyone else and calls that friendship (Which it is, but like. The worst kind.)

“Michael,” Geoff says, in what he hopes is a reasonable tone of voice. “It’s four in the fucking morning.”

Michael looks like he has no idea what that has to do with anything, face scrunched up in an exaggerated frown. His friend(?) isn’t even paying attention, looking around and making faces at the décor – which is a motley blend of questionable interior decorator choices and “gifts” from his terrible friends who have clearly been waiting all this time to let him know how much they hate him.

Like Gus.

“So? You said we needed more muscle,” Michael says, almost a full minute later, brain obviously on some kind of delay. “Li'l J’s got those.”

‘Li’l J’ looks at Geoff and flexes, and Geoff’s hard pressed not to laugh because what the fuck is his life these days?

“He does have those, yes,” Geoff agrees. “You want to stay here for the night? I don’t think you’re going to make it back to yours with the state you're in, buddy.”

Michael chews on that for a while as Geoff watches, and eventually decides that yes, he is indeed too goddamned drunk to get halfway across the city and lets Geoff herd him and Li’l J to his spare bedroom.

He’s got two, but they insist one is fine and Geoff doesn’t press because what business is it of his?

=========

Geoff wakes up to the smell of cooking bacon and when he wanders out to the kitchen sees Li’l J wearing Michael’s shirt and his pants from the night before cooking breakfast.

He looks like death warmed over, and the bacon smell can’t be helping but he seems determined to keep on trucking for whatever reason.

“Good morning,” Geoff says, keeping his voice down because the poor kid looks like his head’s killing him.

Li’l J looks at him, and opens his mouth to say something when his face goes green and he mumbles an apology before rushing for the nearest bathroom.

Geoff gets up to save the bacon and while he’s getting eggs out of the fridge Li’l J comes back in.

“Uh,” he says. “So that could have gone better, I guess.”

Geoff shoots him a look and the poor kid blushes, what the fuck.

“Nah,”Geoff says, grinning a little, because he’s not wrong. “You’re doing great.”

He gets a skeptical look for that, because hey, Geoff’s a sarcastic bastard, but whatever.

“There’s aspirin the cabinet over there,” Geoff says, pointing.”If you want any.”

Li’l J hesitates before deciding going over to get the bottle, and Geoff watches him from the corner of his eye as he shakes a couple into his hand and dry swallows them. Pause, and then shake a couple more out before he looks for a glass.

“The one to your right,” Geoff says, and smiles to himself as Li’l J gets a glass and fills it with water, setting both on the table for Michael when he comes out.

“Thanks,” Li’l J says, kind of awkward now that he doesn’t have anything to do since Geoff stole cooking duty from him.

It occurs to Geoff that the kid is nervous as hell, which is fair, he supposes. Geoff’s face is pretty recognizable these days, and waking up to find he stayed the night in Geoff’s place after getting as drunk as he had would be a bit of a surprise to anyone.

“Michael seems pretty insistent you’ve got muscles,” Geoff says, because along with being a sarcastic bastard he’s also a regular old bastard.

“...I mean yeah?” Li’l J says, and then his brain seems to catch up to him because his eyes widen as realization hits. “Oh, fuck. He was telling the truth, you really are looking for more people?”

He looks horrified, glancing down at himself and running a hand through his hair that’s dyed bright green. Like someone who’s just realize they’re underdressed for a job interview and it would be funny as hell if he also didn’t look a little like he might start crying.

Geoff slides a plate of food in front of him and pats him on the shoulder because this fucking kid, okay,  what the fuck.

“Relax, Li’l  J. We can have the proper job interview some other day.”

Not that there’s an actual process to it, but he’s a little worried the poor kid’s going to lose it if he doesn’t, so.

“Okay,” he says, looking grateful for the reprieve, and runs out of the room to throw up again.

========

“You traumatized him,” Michael says when he finally wakes up and comes into the kitchen. He’s wearing Li’l J’s shirt with this look in his eye daring him to comment, which. Geoff would never. “I don’t know what you did, but you fucking traumatized him.

Li’l J, whose actual name turns out to be Jeremy is off...somewhere. Geoff doesn’t know, and Michael seems unconcerned, so Geoff's going to take his cue from him.

Geoff shrugs and finishes his coffee.

“Is he a good fit?”he asks, and doesn’t realize he isn’t just asking if Jeremy’s right for the crew until the words are out of his mouth.

Michael looks at Geoff like he’s an idiot, fond little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I think he is.”

========

They hit a few banks after that. A jewelry store or two. Flashy things that catch people’s attention and draw it away from the real work being done.

Jeremy turns out to be what the crew was missing, a spark of bright energy and sheer chaos that would honestly be a little terrifying in anyone else. (Not that it isn’t in Jeremy, because Jesus Christ, but he’s got a good heart and is so fucking gone on Michael it’s not even funny. Which is good, because Michael’s just as stupid for him.)

Los Santos is in a tizzy and whatever the fuck else while the Fake AH Crew’s hold on the city grows and grows and grows.

Burnie calls him to congratulate him on making back to the top of the most wanted list again and Gus sends him the original copy of his first mugshot as a gift.

Because friendship.

Hullum sends him chocolates, because Hullum.

Joel -

The less said about that, the better.

And then Geoff catches the would-be burglar sneaking around his building in a delivery courier's uniform. The guy’s wearing a trucker cap, fucking mirrored Aviators, and has a bandanna wrapped around his face, and how the hell he ever expected his disguise to work Geoff will never know.

“Really?”

The guy shrugs as he shoves a clipboard at him, and Geoff knows he’s grinning at him.

“Fucking weirdo,” Geoff mutters, but goes along with it and signs his name, accepting the box the idiot hands him as he mimes tipping his hat to Geoff and saunters off like this is in any way normal.

(Spoiler: it fucking isn’t.)

When he’s gone, Geoff looks down at the box he’s holding, because why, and goes inside his apartment.

He puts the box down o his counter and eyes it suspiciously for a long moment because it’s the right size and weight to be a case of diet soda, and considering his would-be burglar is the one who gave it to him…

Yeah.

Shaking his head, Geoff pulls out a knife and opens the box.

(Spoiler number two: it absolutely is a fucking case of diet soda.)

========

Things have been going so well for them that of course it all goes to shit.

Not unexpectedly though, since Geoff knew something like this was coming, he just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

“So you’re Ramsey,” someone says, snide and far too arrogant for anyone’s good. “You don’t look like much.”

Geoff would roll his eyes at that, but there’s a strip of fabric tied way too goddamned tight over his eyes and what feels like a burlap sack over that.

For the aesthetic, probably. Can’t have a good kidnapping without one.

The speaker steps closer and rips the burlap sack off Geoff’s head, taking a few hairs with it as he does. Before Geoff’s done swearing about that, the blindfold comes off, and Geoff starts wearing again because they've got a fucking floodlight in his face. (Goddamn kidnapping aesthetics.)

The asshole’s laughing at him, all high and mighty because look at the great Geoff Ramsey now, and Geoff tunes him out because he’s heard it all before.

Eventually his eyes adjust, and he gets a good look at his kidnapper.

“Jesus,” Geoff says, “I’m so sorry.”

The guy’s laughter stops abruptly, a scowl coming over him.

“What the fuck - “

“I mean,” Geoff says, talking over him. “Your face. I’ve never seen anyone as ugly as you are. It’s gotta suck.”

Yeah, Geoff’s kind of an idiot because the moment the asshole processes Geoff’s words he goes red in the face with fury and the next thing Geoff knows he’s getting punched in the face again and again and again until everything goes black.

========

Geoff comes to when some dickhead throws a bucket of cold water on him.

“Awake, now?” someone asks while Geoff’s sputtering.

Geoff shakes water out of his eyes and looks up to see the punch-happy asshole from before with a dripping bucket in his hands standing next someone new.

All dressed up in a fancy suit and this look on his face like he despises not being surrounded extravagance. The dirty little warehouse they’ve taken Geoff to so far beneath him it’s sad, really.

Geoff doesn’t recognize him, but assumes he’s the leader of a crew here in Los Santos. Not a major concern for them, or something would have been done about him by now.

It takes a moment for Geoff the realize he’s talking, tuning in to the usual spiel about Geoff and his crew moving in on his territory and what a terrible mistake it is. How the asshole can’t let that stand and Geoff tunes him out again, paying more attention to his surroundings and the henchman setting up what look like traps.

Honest to God traps like something out of a Vinewood movie. Spy or superhero, they’re kind of the same in the end because the villainous monologue Geoff isn’t listening to and the ridiculous deathtraps.

“What the fuck.”

“ - Pardon?”

Geoff shoots Suit a look

“Are you an actual super villain?” he asks, because really.

That seems to throw Suit off-balance because he just stares at Geoff.

“I mean, come on,” Geoff says. “There’s a fucking laser grid? Who does that?”

There is a laser grid, super intricate and no possible way anyone could hope to navigate it without setting off the explosives and whatnot. There are also other, less complicated traps, and all of them designed to kill Geoff and anyone who tries to get him out of here.

“No shark tank though,” Geoff says, and feels a little disappointment about that. “Couldn’t get the permits?”

Suit glances at Ugly, and seems to realize he’s not going to get much help on that front.

“No,” he says. “You understand how bureaucracy is.”

God, does he ever.

“Maybe next time,” Geoff says, and waits for that to sink in -

“There won’t be a next time,” Suit says, literally looking down his nose at Geoff. “I expect you - “

“ - to die?” Geoff finishes, because he’s been hoping for this day his entire fucking life.

Geoff is a petty bastard, absolutely loves the flash of pure, unadulterated rage that flashes across Suit’s face before he locks all away again, nice and neat.

“I see,” Suit says, not seeing a goddamned thing at all. “I believe we’re done here.”

Geoff watches as Suit and Ugly leave,  henchmen trailing after them, and laughs himself sick.

========

Geoff’s not worried.

It can’t have been more than a day since they grabbed him, and Jack and his boys will come looking eventually, and between them they're smart enough to figure the stupid traps out.

No, Geoff is annoyed.

His head hurts, and he thinks Ugly knocked some teeth loose. His suit is ruined and the chair they tied him to is uncomfortable as all hell.

Geoff’s thinking about that when he hears footsteps.

At first he thinks it’s Suit and Ugly back to gloat or posture, or maybe Jack and the others.

It’s not though.

Really, really not, because -

“What the hell are you doing here?”

It’s Geoff’s would-be burglar.

He’s wearing normal street clothes.

And a mask.

A goddamned raccoon mask, like the ones that store in Vespucci sells.

The would-be burglar looks around pointedly, and Geoff sighs.

“Look,” he says, not wanting to hurt the guy’s feelings since he took it upon himself to track Geoff down and seems like he plans on getting him out of here, but he doesn’t really have the best track record. “Not that I don’t appreciate it  - “

The stupid fucker steps toward the laser grid and Geoff loses his shit, just a little.

“Jesus Christ! Do not - “

Would-be burglar turns his head to look at Geoff and pulls a throwing knife from...somewhere.

Throws it with lazy grace, and – horrified because he’s about to fucking die thanks to this idiot – Geoff watches as it arcs through the air to hit the button release at the end of the laser grid maze.

A second later, the lasers flicker and die.

“...the fuck.”

The would-be burglar chuckles, and Geoff watches in silent (mostly) amazement as he methodically disables the traps one by one, humming some cheerful little tune under his breath the whole time.

After what feels like an eternity, he’s standing in front of Geoff, not a mark on him and both of them miraculously not amazingly dead, and so goddamned pleased with himself.

“No offense,” Geoff says, as his would-be burglar moves to cut him free. “But what the actual fuck?”

He gets another little chuckle as the asshole helps him stand, broad hand braced between his shoulder blade until Geoff’s sure he can move on his own.

Adrenaline, Geoff thinks, when he leans into his would-be burglar’s touch a little too eagerly. That’s all it is.

The guy leads him through the disarmed traps and out of the warehouse where Suit and Ugly and the henchmen are trussed up all pretty like.

Geoff stares at them, and then at the idiot with the cartoonish Raccoon mask.

“What - “

Would-be burglar holds a finger to the lips of his mask, and Geoff stiffens as the sound of sirens reach him.

Another chuckle, and he’s being pulled over to a nearby building and gently prodded up the fire escape until they reach the roof. Follows the idiot to the edge where they watch several cop cars pull up in front of the warehouse, officers spilling out of them to stop short in confusion, because yeah.

Someone must get their shit together because they start bundling everyone int the back of the squad cars and more cops show up to investigate the warehouse.

Geoff snorts. He would have liked to deal with Suit and Ugly himself, but this is more entertaining.

“Pretty impressive,” he says, looking back at the guy, who shrugs, seeming almost bashful at the praise. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?”

Previous bumbling attempts at burglary aside, his performance today was astounding. And there’s the fact that while his attempts up until now have been laughable, he did get past their security without alerting anyone every time.

Pure luck or actual skill, either way it’s worth a shot.

========

He says no.

Or, okay.

He doesn’t talk so much as shake his head, but Geoff understands all the same.

========

“Geoff, what the fuck.”

Jack’s worry sometimes looks like anger.

And exhaustion, because as it turns out Geoff was missing for three days and they’d been looking for him the whole time. Michael and Jeremy tearing the city apart while Ray put out feelers to his contacts,  and Jack -

“Hey, honey,” Geoff says, pulling Jack into a hug because he seems to keep doing this to him. “I’m home.”

========

Geoff sics Lindsay and Trevor and their terrifying little army after what’s left of Suit and Ugly’s people  after the cops got done with them, and the Fake AH Crew’s territory gets a little bigger.

Burnie hears about the whole mess and sends him Gavin, like he really thinks that’s going to help.

“Burns, what the hell?”

He likes Gavin, he does.

Burnie’s little protege and a genuinely good kid under all the trouble making bullshit. (Funny as hell and so damned smart, all this potential to him that Geoff’s afraid he’s going to ruin if he keeps him.)

But if Burnie thinks having Gavin around is going to cut down on incidents like Geoff’s recent kidnapping, he’s barking up the wrong tree.

“He asked to go,” Burnie says, like it’s just that simple. “Fucker missed you.”

Well, when he puts it like that.

========

Geoff’s well on his way to winning the stupid bet with Burnie, and it feels goddamned good.

The crew is going strong, Geoff and his idiots putting on a show for Los Santos while Lindsay and Trevor cement their hold on the city, nurture the growing empire that’s taken root.

Ray comes and goes, secure in the knowledge he has a safety net with them if he ever needs it. (He won’t, though, Geoff knows. Kid’s too good, smart about things, to get in trouble like that, but if he ever does, they’re there for him.)

Michael and Jeremy keep circling Gavin who doesn’t seem to notice, and he and Jack look on in amusement because their kids are real fucking dumb.

Lindsay and Trevor throw some kid they found at Geoff and the others. Idiot with a sweet smile and sly sense of humor, and everyone loves him right off the bat.

It helps that Alfredo’s so easy-going, willing to go along with whatever trouble the Lads come up with, which is going to be trouble one day, Geoff just knows it, and looks forward to it because he’s a little fucked in the head.

Jack’s happy here, seems more settled than Geoff’s ever seen him and it finally quashes that last seed of guilt at dragging him halfway across the country thanks to a stupid bet.

Speaking of, suck it, Burns.

========

There’s a knock on Geoff’s door.

Not unheard of, but Jack and the others tend to let themselves in, and he’s not expecting any deliveries.

Probably not someone looking to kidnap him, because those people don’t bother with social niceties like knocking, so.

Geoff opens the door.

“Hey.”

It’s Ryan.

He has a case of diet soda in his hand and a sheepish look on his face and Geoff is having a fucking aneurysm, because there’s a raccoon mask in his other hand.

Geoff swears he hears a record scratch as his world tips slightly on its side, pieces falling into place.

“Oh my God,” Geoff says, and the temptation to shoot Ryan in his stupid, perfect face is nearly overwhelming. “Oh my fucking God.”

Ryan winces, eyes darting to where he has to know Geoff’s gun is and back to Geoff’s  face.

“I can explain?” he says, small and uncertain.

The worst part is that Ryan sounding like that (all wrong) yanks so fucking hard at Geoff’s heartstrings that for a moment he honestly think he’s having a heart attack on top of the aneurysm.

“Geoff?”

“Get inside, idiot,” he says, scowl softening at the relieved look on Ryan face.

========

Ryan talks.

And talks and talks, and Geoff lets him, only interrupting him once or twice in the process.

“Murder break.”

Ryan nods, like this is a thing normal people do. Take breaks from killing people because they do too much of that.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

And then, to explain why he needed to take a ‘murder break’, Ryan pulls another mask out.

It’s a black skull.

Geoff recognizes it, because it belongs to one of the assholes he and Jack considered recruiting for the crew way back when. Everyone they talked to about the Vagabond said that no one had heard about him for a while. Figured he’d finally gone and gotten himself killed, or managed to retire from the business, and they’d set aside their disappointment and looked at other prospects.

“Wait, what?”

Ryan shrugs, suddenly unable to make eye contact.

“It’s. Yeah.” Ryan coughs to clear his throat. “That’s. I’m him.”

So eloquent.

Also, yeah, Geoff kind of figured that, context clues being what they are and all.

“Hand me a diet soda,” Geoff says, and watches as Ryan opens the case and pulls a can out for him.

Geoff thanks him and takes a thoughtful sip while Ryan fidgets, waiting to see what Geoff’s going to have to say about things. (Expecting the worst, from the way he’s holding himself, and it’s breaking Geoff’s heart.)

“So this,” he says, waves a hand at the dumb raccoon mask sitting beside the Vagabond’s. “What was this?”

Ryan shrugs, watching Geoff from the corner of his eye.

“I heard about you and Jack,” he says, hands making this aborted gesture before he folds them up in his lap. “I heard about you two coming to Los Santos, and I got worried.”

Two Roosters coming to Los Santos out of the blue the way they did, and one of them being a Founder? Yeah, Geoff can see that.

“About?”

Ryan turns his head to look at him, frowning a little like he doesn’t know where Geoff’s going with this. What he hopes to get from it.

“People like you come to Los Santos all the time,” he says, twist to his mouth. “Most of them make things worse. I didn’t know what you had planned, so I decided to find out for myself.”

That. Okay, that almost makes sense.

“You tried to break into my car.”

From what Geoff knows about the Vagabond, he doesn't just try.

“Murder break,” Ryan says, and shrugs helplessly.

Putting aside the fact that Ryan could have looked into things as the Vagabond without killing anyone, sure, why not.

“You really take those seriously, don’t you.”

Another little shrug.

“After a while I realized you weren’t here to start trouble,” Ryan says. “So it kind of turned into a hobby?”

What.

“What?”

Ryan laughs, a surprisingly dorky sound, and rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean,” he says. “There’s not a lot for me to do on one of my murder breaks, and it was just. Fun.”

Fun.

It was fun.

Acting like the world’s most inept burglar was fun.

Fucking hell.

“So why tell me now?”Geoff asks, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but why?

And oh, wow. If Geoff thought Ryan was nervous before, was he ever wrong.

Ryan’s blushing.

The fuck.

“You, uh,” Ryan mumbles. “You never called.”

Geoff has to take a moment to process that, really think about it.

“To be fair,” he starts, perfectly aware of how fucking bizarre all of this is. “I thought you were a civilian at the time. I didn’t want to get you involved in this life.”

And Ryan had been spying on him, but maybe it hadn’t been some kind of ploy on his part to get closer? Maybe he had given his number to Geoff in the hope he’d actually use it? (God knows Ryan’s everything since Geoff opened his door to see him standing there backs that theory up.)

“Um.”

Holy shit.

Geoff gets up, ignoring the way he can feel Ryan’s eyes on him as he crosses the room to get his phone. Picks it up and turns around to very deliberately make eye contact with the moron as he unlocks it and brings his contacts up.

“What - “

“Shut the fuck up,” Geoff says, and scrolls until he gets to DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES CALL. THIS MEANS YOU, ME.

Geoff never called Ryan, it’s true, but he couldn't bring himself to just throw his number away either. Ryan’s still watching him, and Geoff hits send.

Ryan startles when his phone starts ringing, eyes widening when he looks back up at Geoff.

“You should probably get that,” Geoff says, feeling stupid giddy because they’re so ridiculous. “It might be important.”

========

The looks on everyone’s faces when Geoff strolls into the briefing for their next heist with the Vagabond behind him is goddamned priceless.

Aces Up Every Sleeve

[bmaybewriting]

Warm Winters

:) I’m gonna do a fluffy story with the Hiddleston man. (Of course) but im starting this at 1:50am and I just got a boost of “hells yeahs you can do this, so I’m gonna do this!”

I also get to flex my Icelandic so that’s lowkey rad. (It’s not remotely perfect but it gets the job done)

——————

“Love, it’s wonderful that I can see you again, but Iceland? Really? That’s where you want to rendezvous?” You and your beloved boyfriend are trying to meet up for a brief holiday, you’re in Baltimore and he’s in London. You opted to literally meet him halfway.

“Yes! Iceland is beautiful this time of year!”

“Darling, it’s also cold-“ he starts, only to be interrupted by you.

“Tom, don’t you remember Auður? Her husband is Sigurdur—anyways, they have a holiday home by lake Thingvallavatn,” you linger off, finally realising you interrupted him.

“Yes but, it’s also -2 degrees, love. -2!” He says,

“But Tooom! Who says we have to go out! Their pantry is stocked and Auður said it was alright! We can stay indoors, in front of the fireplace and read, or watch TV, or yunno, spend time together?” You were whining, just a tad. You’re often lucky he’s so patient with you.

“Fine, love; when do you propose we meet?” You almost jump up and down with glee.

“Whenever it’s most convenient? Auður and Sigurdur are on Holiday in Seychelles at the moment, so we will have the house to ourselves. I have a key.” You say, partially explaining.

“Wonderful love, I’ll set up flights tomorrow at noon. And I promise to email the information this time, and not forget.” He says, and you can almost hear his smile over the phone.

“Thanks Tom, I really appreciate it,” You say, after a second’s hesitation.

The three words I love you have been on the tip of your tongue recently, and you’ve been refraining yourself. But it’s always there, just waiting to slip. But that’s a large advance in your relationship, one that you’re nervous to make.

“Of course, love, see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

He hangs up first.

——

You give a tight-lipped smile to the flight attendant, saying “have a good day!” As you get off the plane. Tom’s flight was delayed one hour, and you promised you’d wait for him.

Keflavík International, what a joy. There’s a mix of languages being spoke around you, and you can only understand bits and pieces.

“My apple-“ in Norwegian

“Wow, she’s pretty-“ in German, between a couple of guys, looking at you. You didn’t try to eavesdrop but... it just happens.

Typical Airport things, you settled into an unpleasant resting bitch face while walking to what is supposed to be Tom’s gate. You check the arrivals board, and the plane is on schedule. You sit down and wait.

An hour later, you have befrended a Danish man, named Mathias. Your communication is something to behold, you’re speaking choppy Icelandic and he’s speaking fluent Danish.

“Du er faktisk fantastisk samtale, hvem venter du her?” He says, slowly. You understand it as something along the lines of “You’re fantastic company, what are you doing here?”

“Ég er að bíða eftir kærastanum mínum.” You say that you’re waiting for your boyfriend. You wait a fraction of a second before asking: “er möguleiki að þú talar ensku?” Is there a chance you speak English?

When he nods you almost collapse in relief.

“Thank god, I’m not fluent in Icelandic, and certainly not in Dainish. I’m certain I didn’t always make sense!” You say, an embarrassed smile across your face.

“Not always, but you didn’t do bad.” He responds, his accent surprisingly thick for an English speaker.

“Do you not speak English much? You have a very thick accent.” You enquire.

“No, my family prefers to speak Danish. It’s how it is, I guess.” He responds with a shrug.

You glance around and see Tom, you wave and grin at him excitedly.

“Excuse me, my boyfriend just arrived. It was a pleasure to meet you.” You say, holding your hand out for him to shake it.

“Likewise.” He shakes your hand and smiles.

You walk up to Tom, suitcase in tow;

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston. How was your flight?” You teased.

“As okay as flights can be, love.”

“That’s nice to hear, I guess. Do you want me to drive. This is a Right-Side-Of-The-Road country, you know. I feel like I’m more qualified.” You smile up at him

“I think you would be more qualified, but don’t scare the wits out of me like last time. There’s a reason I usually drive.” He returns the smile

“I know, I know. I rented a cheaper car than normal. I didn’t want to be too flashy.”

“That’s okay, dear. Whatever keeps us safe.” He says with a chuckle.

“That’s not funny, you know.”

“It most certainly is,” he continues, grinning down at you. You playfully pout and get the car keys from the desk.

——

“There’s a reason they say Lake Thingvallavatn is one of the prettiest lakes ever,” You say, swerving slightly towards it, off the road.

“Yes, but I would like to enjoy it alive, dear.”

“I suppose I would too,” you say, slowly getting the whole car in the lane it belongs in.

“So babe,” you start, “what would you like to do when we get at the house?”

“Oh I don’t know...” he puts his hand on your thigh. You glance over at him and you can see his slight smirk. “Fuck?” He says, voice as smooth as chocolate.

Your cheeks redden and you immediately look back at the road.

He slyly grabs your thigh and gently squeezes is. You flash him a coy smile and go back to focusing on driving.

——

Upon arriving at the lake house, two things are glaringly obvious. 1: Tom both wants to be all lovey-dovey and sexy as fuck and he’s doing a fantastic job at it, and 2: You want to curl up by the fire and enjoy the warmth it is kindly providing. Neither of you want to have sex by the fire, knowing you both, that is good judgement.

You’re mixing a salad, when Tom elegantly slides up behind you and sets his hands on your waist, while nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

You smile and keep working on your salad, happily chopping cucumbers.

“Yes, love?”

“Are you trying to say something without actually saying it?”

“Perhaps?”

You stop cutting and look back at him, still smiling. He leans down sensually kisses you, you kiss back, pausing to laugh.

Eventually he stops, “Mmmm, I’ve really missed you, love, more than you know.”

“Hmm, sounds like someone’s horny,” you say and lean back into his chest, gently grinding your ass against him, “Feels like it too...” you smirk.

Now, finally, it’s his turn to be flushed.

“Babe, I feel more like sleeeping than sexing, that okay? It’s like 2 in the afternoon babe, we have a couple hours of chilling... and I still smell like recycled air and... I’m just not feeling it right now.” You go back to chopping, “Plus I’m making lunch!”

He rubs your waist and nods, “okay hon, do you need any help with your salad?”

“Not really, actually, but talk to me about work, or how everyone in the acting community is doing. Spend time with me?”

He smiles and leans up against the clear counter next to you. “Well, work is okay. I can’t really tell you all the details until after everything’s done, naturally. But it’s doing really good.”

“Well that’s good, babe.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he deadpans, and then starts up like he didn’t.

“Everybody on site is good too, nobody is trying to kill anybody...”

You snort “That’s... equally impressive and good.”

You both are quiet for a moment or two, enjoying the company.

“How’s... your PhD?” He asks, out of the blue.

“It’s... going. I guess. I don’t know, I feel kind of burt out, motivation less I guess. I miss living, having a lot of time to do whatever... without the stress of homework and essays and studies.” You respond, frowning. “I hope you don’t mind me working a little on our vacation. I don’t want to be swamped.” You look up and smile at him.

He softly smiles back and this time, the silence is perfectly comfortable.

Yet, short lived.

You were chopping lettuce when it happened, a slice across your finger. It was looked worse then it was, as you kept saying to Tom, who was losing it.

“Tom, seriously I just need some soapy water, or rubbing alcohol. And a band-aid, gause would work too.” You say, calm as can be, you’re a little clumsy.

“Babe, okay, you’re okay for a couple seconds, right?” He speed walks to the bathroom, where you hear rustling and bottles moved, along with a mumbled “where the fuck is it?” Moments later he emerges.

“Love, I’m okay, seriously. I just need the alcohol and the band-aid.”

He makes a face and says that he’s going to help you and that’s not changing until you’re not bleeding.

“Fine, you win.”

He smiles and cleans your finger, carefully going around the cut and gently over. You jolt, he stops, looks at you, sees your nod and then keeps going. He gets the band-aid and wraps it around your finger, even kissing it when he’s done.

You smile at that and return to your salad, where he gently pushes you away and continues cutting for you.

“You’re too sweet.”

He laughs, “no you”

“No you”

“No you”

“No, you.”

“You win.”

At that, you stop and do a little victory dance, “Yes! I knew it.”

——

“You know what we could do, babe?”

[becuzpurple]

“We’ll Be Quiet” - A (belated) Christmas One-Shot

It’s finally here!  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!  

I am sorry for the delay.  It’s really hard to find time to write when the entire family is home 24/7!  Throw in some bad autism days and a lot of sleep deprivation, and it’s actually a Christmas Miracle that this is only 4 days late!  LOL

WARNING:  Here Be Sexy Times  :-)

Without further ado...

We’ll Be Quiet

Our guests had finally all gone to bed.  Ed and I just finished cleaning up empty bottles, leftover food, and other remnants from the Christmas Eve festivities. The room was dark but for the glowing embers in the fireplace and the multi-colored, twinkling lights adorning the enormous Christmas tree centered prominently at the front of the room.

“Sit with me?”  Ed promptly dropped onto the sofa, took my hand, and pulled me down with him.  I leaned into him, closing my eyes in relief.  It had been a long day, and it felt good to finally relax.  

We cuddled close and took in the warm, cozy atmosphere in quiet contentment.  Life was good, and I felt blessed and thankful for it.  

We’d invited our families to stay with us for the holidays.  There hadn’t been many opportunities for them to get to know each other before then.  But we finally had a place to accommodate everyone, and thought a mountain getaway at Christmas would be perfect.  I was excited for everyone to be together at our new vacation home.  There were 16 of us in the house, scattered throughout various rooms.  Adults/couples had their own rooms (even if a few of them were makeshift), the kids and their cousins were double- and tripled-up, and Daisy slept in our room with us.  I loved having everyone together, even if it meant privacy, peace and quiet were at premiums.

“You good?  You’ve been non-stop these last few days.”  He kissed me softly on the side of my head, and I melted into him even deeper.

“Yeah, I’m good.  I’ve had help,” I shrugged.  “Everyone’s pitching in to keep things running smoothly - especially you.”  I laid my palm over the front of his Christmas sweater.  “I’m a little tired, but it’s fine. This is...I couldn’t ask for more.  We’re all here, getting along great, everyone seems happy...the only blip was my brother’s flight being delayed.  And that wasn’t even a huge deal. So... I’m good,”  I patted my fingertips on his chest a couple of times.  “How about you?”

“I’m awesome.” I watched as he leaned his head back on the back of the sofa, eyes closed, an expression of smug contentedness etched across his face.  

He looked happy, and that made me happy.

I lightly traced my fingers along the line of his jaw, gently turning his face toward mine.  A smile lit his face before he even opened his eyes.  Once he did they settled on me.

“You know,” I murmured.  “I think this is the first time we’ve been alone since everyone got here.”

He nodded in agreement.  “We have a very full house.”

He tilted his head to the side and gave me a lopsided grin.  That impossibly cute face looking back at me, paired with the most ridiculous Christmas sweater I’ve ever seen made my own face equally as smiley.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered just before leaving a light kiss under his soft, scruffy jaw.  He was keeping his beard a little bit longer since he had time off for the holidays.  It tickled.

“Hhhmmm...Merry Christmas, baby.”  

His mouth found mine, and we smiled into each other, rubbing noses and nipping lips.  My hands fell limply to his shoulders as his combed through my hair and took hold.  

“Hhhmmm,” I huffed out a breathy laugh, more than happy to steal a few kisses under the soft glow of the twinkling Christmas tree.  Finally pulling away, I trailed my fingers down from his shoulders over his chest, and rested them at his waist.

“It’s a long day tomorrow.  We should probably go to bed.”  I leaned in and left one more quick kiss on his pretty lips.

He looked down at my hands and then back up at me almost daringly.  “Do you mean ‘to bed’, or ‘to sleep’, though?”  

“Ohhh…” I giggled.  “Well, Daisy’s in there with us.  That’s...probably not a great idea?”  Damn.  It had been a little while, and, well, I was very quickly getting in the mood.  Nothing like an almost-one year-old in the room with you to break up the sexy times, though.

He nodded and bit that bottom lip of his, thinking whatever naughty thoughts made him do as such, since he only did it when he was thinking about sex.

“What are you thinking, Teddy?”

“Hmm,” He kissed me again, and with his mouth still touching mine, he whispered, “C’mere,” patted his thigh, then made to lift me right on top of him.

I started to move over to sit across his lap, but he stopped me.

“No, face me - the way you like it.”

That soft, mischievous grin was just barely there, mostly under wraps as he tried to maintain a sense of delicate control.  But he was clearly just as turned on as I was.

“Oh.”  I shifted and rose up on one knee while bringing my other over his lap, pivoting to face him.  I scooted myself forward until our bodies were touching each other’s, and then brought my arms around him.

My hands combed through his hair as our lips locked, tongues exploring, prodding, thrusting.  His hands were everywhere - my hair, my face, my arms, my ass, even.  His fingers were soon toying with the button on my jeans.

“Can I?” he whispered into my jaw.

“Uhh,” I was so turned-on, but I also realized that we had a house full of guests, and were currently in a very open, public part of it, albeit very late when everyone was hopefully turned in for the night.

“Umm…” I was distracted by his mouth trailing down my neck.

“Please?”

Shit.  I could feel him smile against the base of my throat after he whispered that single word - the one that he knew would get to me.  

“Unfair, Sheeran…”. I pressed our bodies closer as I felt his tongue dip below my collarbone.  I began moving my hips in slow waves over his lap, rubbing and teasing him until I could feel his growing erection.

His fingers trailed under my own Christmas sweater down the sides of my waist - lightly brushing over my soft, sensitive skin.

I miss this...want you.”  He looked up at me with those huge blue eyes, knowing he was hitting all my weaknesses.

“Here?  What if someone comes out?”  Despite playing devil’s advocate, I was actually pretty much all in favor of this plan, ill-advised as it may have been.

“No one will come out,” he murmured, his lips back at my neck.

“Your parents...they’re right in the next room- ”

“ -we’ll be quiet.”

My breath hitched at the touch of his tongue, and I stifled a moan.  He leaned back enough to look in my eyes, searching for consent to continue.  

My sense of propriety and decorum (I realize that’s slightly laughable) did not win that inner-battle - it wasn’t even close.  I found myself grinning devilishly and nodding in acquiescence.

I stood, checked behind me to make sure no one else was lurking about, and quickly stripped off my jeans.  Ed was watching me, but made no effort to move at all.

“You waiting for something?”

“No, sorry...just admiring the view.”

I chuckled to myself, knowing his view was basically me in my goofy Christmas sweater and panties.  But, hey.  If that’s what floats his boat, who am I to disagree?

Without breaking his gaze he lifted his butt up off his seat enough to pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees.  He then promptly took my hands and pulled me closer, grinning.

“Hop on, baby.”

Oh my god, really?

“Hop on...wouldn’t that hurt?” I asked as I again settled myself on his lap, my knees straddling his hips.

“I suppose that depends on how you land.”

I nodded in agreement, pulling my panties to the side with one hand.  “Well, I guess if I weren’t careful…” I took his cock in my other hand and gave it a few firm strokes.  “...it might not feel…”  I brushed myself over his tip, getting him good and wet from my arousal and then I sank down on him, sheathing him to the hilt.  “...really good.”

“Fuck,” he rasped through gritted teeth.  His hands flew to my hips, and held on tight.

We didn’t move for several beats.  I finally began to move my hips, pulling away, and back again until he filled me up, over and over and over, his upward thrusts soon meeting mine.  Our pace quickened and the flutters rose from deep in my belly and spread as if as if every single cell in my body had suddenly awakened.

With one had at the back of my head he pulled my face down, capturing my mouth with his.  I moaned into him as I felt his tongue delve in, meeting it with equal fervor.

“Teddy…” I licked into his mouth, my fingers laced through his hair, pulling it just right.  “This is so fucking hot.” I was so worked up I forgot to keep my voice down to a whisper.

He sighed into my mouth, then tugged on my lower lip before smirking and quietly shushing me.  “We need to be quiet, baby.”

Whoops,” I grinned.

He looked down then, quickly mesmerized by the visual of his wet, shiny cock disappearing as I took all of him in so deep time after time.

I followed his gaze and watched as well, also entranced by the slick fluidity of our bodies colliding, but I looked back up at him when he spoke again.  His eyes were still focused downward.

“Fucking hell you feel so good…”  His voice was barely a whisper.  His hands grasped onto my bottom and he directed our movements at a much faster pace.  He was starting to lose his rhythm, which meant he was getting close.  

I was close, too.  I brought one hand to my clit and started rubbing quick, light circles over the sensitive, engorged nub with my ring and middle fingers, and I slid my other hand under my sweater and bra and mirrored the same motions over my always-responsive, puckered nipple...all while (mostly) silently riding the hell out of him.  I soon felt my orgasm cresting, and it took everything I had to keep from crying out.

“Baby, I...I’m…” but I couldn’t focus enough on words to complete that thought.

My walls tightened and pulsed around his cock as I came in delicious, lingering, waves, and it produced the most sexy, hushed gasps I may have ever heard him utter.  He continued thrusting a few more times, fast and messy and so hyper-focused, chasing his own release.  His hips sputtered and he gasped soft, quick sighs and I felt him empty himself into me.

We both fell almost immediately into that fuzzy, cozy, relaxed, post-coital state of contentedness.  He held me as I was still all but draped over him, kissing my head and face and shoulders.  I felt like the cat that got the cream.

I spotted an afghan folded up on the back of the sofa near Ed’s head, and pulled it down, finally caring that my backside was exposed.  Ed realized what I was thinking, and, taking it from me, draped it around me like a cape, hiding my bottom from sight.  

He leaned back, head resting on the back of the sofa, looking at me through hooded eyes, looking entirely kissable, and completely sated.  “Maybe we should have done this before we started?”  

I shrugged, also relaxed as ever.  “Ehh, no harm no foul, right?”

He nodded, then grinned that sweet, lopsided smile that makes me melt every time.  “Merry Christmas, Kate.”

I brought my face to his again, smiling like the very satisfied woman I was, and uttered those same words right back to him, my love and sincerity no doubt written all over my face.  “Merry Christmas, Teddy.”

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