#mustang: tired as shit. probably looks the part

[boneskullravenriver]

One of the things I love about Darrow is how much he loves mustang.

He never fails to just pause and describe her with this vibe of admiration and respect even when he's wary of her especially during this scene.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Less Talk | Part VIII

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Wooooh we're finally back! Hope y'all enjoy this infuriating little tale of will they won't they XD

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: Swearing, suggestive dialogue and actions, it's an angsty one

Masterlist | Part I

Jake senses Bradley stiffen in the seat to his right and suppresses a scowl. He's been regulating the outward expression of his feelings for you since the day you met, so what's a couple more hours?

Bradley cranes his neck, watching you step out of the car while Mustang examines his taillights with a frown. You shut your own door and join him near the trunk when he finally straightens his back. Then the two of you head for the entrance.

“I fucking knew it,” Bradley mutters.

Jake releases a steady breath, trying his best to mask his own misery. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with her?” he says casually.

Bradley looks at Jake with a sour expression. “You spend more time with her than I do these days. You tell me.”

Jake swears under his breath as Bradley rises from his chair. For a moment, he considers completely ignoring you and your piece of shit excuse for a boyfriend. ­Ex-boyfriend, he reminds himself adamantly, finally getting out of his seat. He's not sure why Bradley's so distraught by Mustang's presence, but he's getting tired of all the mystery.

He looks up when you walk into the restaurant, his eyes meeting yours the moment you enter. You’ve got your arm hooked through Mustang’s and Jake nearly sits back down.

But the smug look on Mustang’s face makes him reconsider. Jake Seresin isn’t one to shy away from a fight, if that’s what it comes down to. And whatever your reason is for arriving with this jackass, Jake deserves to know it. He steps around the table and marches alongside Bradley as he approaches the two of you.

You glance between Bradley and Jake innocently, as though you’ve absolutely no idea why the two men are stopping you before you even reach the table.

“Is everything okay here?” Bradley asks commandingly, his eyes sliding between you and Mustang.

You give him a jolly smile that is so far from genuine, it borders on comical, and say, “Of course.” Jake narrows his eyes at you, but you avoid his gaze and blink up at Mustang instead. “Shall we find a seat?” You're carrying a gift bag that's big enough to fit a small toddler and you look as though it might tip you over at any moment.

“Hold it,” Jake says sternly.

Mustang gives him a sharp look, but Jake keeps his eyes on you. You meet his gaze reluctantly.

For a split second, Jake wonders if he’s the crazy one. If he’s been so infatuated with you that he’s completely misread the situation. Maybe he’s got no reason to be upset. Maybe it was just a kiss. Two, he reminds himself adamantly. It was two.

You transfer the gift bag from one hand to the other impatiently and shake out the unburdened arm.

Jake reaches for the gift bag and takes it out of your grasp, holding it out to Mustang pointedly. This idiot can't take a hint, apparently.

Mustang stares at the bag and then blinks up at Jake, so Jake shoves it forcefully into his stomach. “Try to make yourself useful, son,” he says flatly.

Mustang takes the bag obediently even though his features are still twisted in confusion.

“Can I steal you for a minute?” Jake asks, returning his attention to you.

Mustang snaps out of his trance and steps forward as if to assert his dominance, but you place a hand on his arm and nod mutely. “I'll meet you at the table,” you say gingerly.

Jake gestures for you to lead the way, not even bothering to grace Mustang with a farewell.

You take a few steps away and stop, but Jake is right behind you and gives you a slight nudge to keep you moving. You glance up at him and he nods toward the back of the restaurant. You oblige, navigating the narrow spaces between the tables on your way to the rear while Jake keeps a couple of fingers on your lower back.

You round the corner into the corridor leading into the kitchen and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Jake studies you quietly for a moment, wondering if you might try to explain yourself before he has to ask. When you raise your eyebrows questioningly, he scoffs, saying, “What the fuck?”

You appear taken aback by his brusqueness, but he isn’t overly concerned with hurting your delicate feelings. In fact, riling you is probably the easiest way to get you to talk.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” he asks, taking a step forward.

You compensate by taking a step back. “We’re working things out,” you respond nonchalantly, as though Jake should have seen this coming.

Jake watches you broodingly until you finally lower your gaze. “No, you’re not,” he says finally.

You look up at him abruptly and he can sense the hostility in your eyes. “What do you want, Seresin?” you ask irritably, like he’s getting on your last nerve.

“I want you to tell me what he’s doing here,” he repeats, taking another step toward you.

You swallow uncomfortably but don’t retreat again. “We decided to give it another shot,” you say, shrugging.

Jake shakes his head when you avert your gaze once more. “You’re lying,” he says. He knows you, and something about you feels off.

You let out a frustrated sigh but obstinately keep your eyes on the ground.

“What about yesterday?” he asks.

You glance up at him reproachfully. “What about it?” you say with a grimace.

Jake takes a final step forward, towering over you while you lift your face to maintain eye contact. “Want me to remind you?” he says quietly, each strike of his accelerating heartbeat growing closer to his throat.

You roll your eyes, apparently completely unfazed by his advances. “It was just a kiss, Seresin,” you say. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Jake makes another attempt. “It was two,” he points out.

You sigh, glancing over Jake’s shoulder anxiously to check that the two of you are still alone. “One, two, twenty – who cares?” you say jadedly.

Jake tightens his jaw, not even attempting to conceal the bitterness in his voice. “Are you really just gonna stand here and pretend like you don’t feel it too?” he says. Normally, he’d have walked away by now. But he’ll be damned if this doesn't work out on account of your stupid ego. Or his, for that matter.

“Come on, Jake,” you say cynically, crossing your arms. “You’re not the feeling type.”

Jake exhales forcefully; you’re not wrong, but he doesn't want to get into it. How could he possibly explain that this assessment is no longer as accurate as he’s led you to believe? How could he tell you that things have changed in recent weeks – that he’s changed?

He can’t. Not without baring his soul. And he’s not prepared to do that for anybody.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, taking your elbow gently and drawing you forward. He detects a hint of citrus as you near and it dizzies him. “I actually don’t give a shit about you at all.”

He sees the twitch of your lips as you attempt to hold back a smile and lowers his head to rest it over yours. “There he is,” you mutter softly.

“Couldn't care less,” he adds, coasting his fingers up your arms as you unfold them.

“Sounds about right,” you breathe, and he can feel your fingers slowly twist into the material of his dress shirt. It’s all he can do not to steer you backward into the wall and run his hands up the curves of your waist and capture your mouth in his and –

He lets the tip of his nose brush the bridge of yours lightly while the torrent inside him rages on. “You drive me up the wall, I swear,” he admits, his voice cracking as a short-lived chuckle escapes with his words.

“It comes naturally,” you respond, and he can hear your smile without having to see it.

“I bet.”

“I can’t stand you,” you mutter as your fingers tangle further into the gaps between the buttons of his shirt.

Jake closes his eyes when said fingers make contact with his skin. “I don’t blame you,” he whispers, his mouth hovering just above yours.

Your hands relax slightly as your fingers graze his stomach through the slits of his shirt. “Anything else?” you ask, your eyes lifting to meet his gaze.

Jake nods slowly. “You’re really fucking annoying,” he says, bringing his hand up to trace the outline of your face.

Your smile widens. “I’m sorry about that.”

Jake shakes his head. “Don’t be,” he whispers, sliding his hand behind your head and pulling you forward. But, being the complete idiot he is, just before kissing you, he asks again, “Why’d you bring him?”

You let your face fall slightly, so that your forehead lands right on his lips. He doesn’t miss this opportunity to kiss it. “He and I aren’t together anymore, Jake,” you respond. “We’re just here as friends,” you add, but you still withdraw slightly.

Jake isn’t sure how to respond and his hands fall away from you as you retreat. Your message is fairly straightforward, but your tone has an air of ambiguity to it which gives him pause.

“He’s trying to be nice,” you continue. “He offered me a ride.”

“I could’ve given you a ride,” Jake says impulsively; defensively. There’s no way this asshole is here because you were short on a mode of transportation.

You sigh. “There’s more to it.”

“No shit,” he responds.

“Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you snap. “Just – don’t get involved. Please.”

Jake fixes you with a defiant sort of scowl. “Did he threaten you?” he asks, his voice somewhat gravelly as he tries to suppress his anger.

“It’s not like that,” you say quickly. “Let it go.”

Jake juts out his jaw and sucks in his cheeks, nodding. “Okay,” he says finally. “Go ahead and enjoy your friend’s company, then.” He gestures for you to go back into the dining room.

You give him a sardonic look and approach him with a small smile. “Try to behave,” you say in a soft, sultry voice that sends a ripple through his body.

He turns to follow you and lowers his head to mutter, “Did you give Mustang the same instructions?” just as the two of you enter the dining room.

You glance up at him with a chuckle. “I’m far more concerned about you.”

Jake grins. “You’re concerned about me?” He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m touched.”

You roll your eyes as the two of you approach the table. “Behave,” you repeat.

Jake pulls a chair out for you as you greet the rest of the party. He leans in to whisper, “No promises,” as you lower yourself into the seat beside Bradley.

…

“They’re not together,” Bradley states with a hint of skepticism as he observes your interaction with Mustang at the bar.

Jake watches the two of you sourly. “They’re just friends,” he confirms as Mustang aims a broad grin in your direction and hands you a tropical looking drink.

“He’s a chauffeur,” Bradley adds with a shrug.

Jake nods, still staring you down as you take a sip and smile, pretending to enjoy the beverage. “She hates orange juice,” Jake states.

Bradley raises his eyebrows and looks over at him.

“Why doesn’t she just tell him that she hates orange juice?” Jake asks irritably, shifting his weight restlessly as he debates walking right up to Mustang and communicating the information, himself.

Bradley glances back at you. “She doesn’t seem to mind it.”

Jake narrows his eyes, marvelling at how easily you carry out the charade, wondering what your angle is.

“Is that cake?” Bradley says suddenly, interrupting Jake’s train of thought.

Impassively, Jake looks over at the table where the party guests have begun to help themselves to the assortment of desserts. “It’s from the bakery across the street,” he mutters, returning his attention to the bar where Mustang appears to be sliding closer and closer to you, nearly pinning you to the counter.

“You brought cake?” Bradley sounds bemused.

Jake sighs loudly. “Of course, I brought cake, Bradshaw. It’s a damn birthday.” Meanwhile, he sees you laughing at something Mustang said as though you actually think he’s funny.

“What kind?”

Jake looks back at Bradley absently. “What?”

“The cake?” Bradley asks.

Jake grimaces. “How should I know?”

Bradley stares at him in confusion. “Are you okay?”

“Is he flirting with her?” Jake says distractedly, watching as Mustang places his hand on your back and leans his head in to whisper something in your ear.

Bradley looks back over at you and shrugs. “I wasn’t buying the whole friend thing, anyway,” he says.

Jake grunts in response. “You want cake?” he asks, seeing you pull Mustang toward the table of sweets.

Bradley hesitates. “It depends what kind –”

But Jake doesn’t let him finish. “Yeah, me too,” he says, starting to shove Bradley in the direction of the dessert table. He arrives at the same time you do and gives you a tarty look while Bradley clears his throat uncomfortably.

“How’s it going?” Bradley flashes a quick grin in Mustang’s direction.

You eye Jake nervously before lowering your gaze and it nearly kills him that Mustang’s got his hand planted snugly on your hip. Just friends don’t grope one another, and Jake is about to point this little tidbit out when Mustang speaks. “I think we need to start over,” he says in a grandiose tone, extending his hand to Jake.

Jake slowly tears his eyes away from you to give Mustang a stony look. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he responds coldly. He can feel your aggravation without even looking at you, but this doesn’t discourage him in the slightest. Your soft spot for Mustang is slowly eating away at him and he can’t help the animosity that’s burning up his veins.

Mustang laughs off Jake’s curt response and puts a second arm around you, as though he means to claim his territory. Jake narrows his eyes at him, clenching his jaw as he watches you pat Mustang on the belly before casually squirming out of his embrace. You give Jake a stern expression and then aim a gracious smile at Mustang. “Don’t mind him,” you say. “Jake doesn’t play nice with anybody.”

Jake rolls his eyes despite the pointed glance he receives from Bradley.

“Can’t we all just get along?” Mustang offers, shooting Jake a smarmy grin.

You nod your head at Mustang, apparently completely missing the blatant insincerity of his statement, and Jake could swear this gesture makes his blood boil. He shifts closer to you and, before he can stop himself, he lifts his hand and hooks a finger through one of the belt loops on the back of your shorts, giving you a small, but purposeful tug.

You glance at him over your shoulder but, otherwise, act like nothing is amiss. Of course, despite being amply aware that this sort of stunt isn’t altogether becoming, the fact that you don’t seem overly opposed to his discreetly possessive behavior gives him a fair bit of comfort. So much so that he even gives the loop another soft pull, bringing your back into his chest. It’s a microscopic movement since the four of you are already jammed so close together in the midst of the crowd, but he swears that you lean into him for a moment, letting your shoulder blades rest on his pecs before you straighten your posture.

“Want to catch a movie tonight?” Mustang asks you, grabbing a plate for himself once he reaches the table.

“She’s busy,” Jake responds before you can say anything. He takes a plate from the stack and hands it to you, ignoring your arching eyebrows as you give him an incredulous look.

He also ignores Bradley’s amused expression even as the latter turns away, pretending not to have heard the exchange.

When you open your mouth to protest, Jake meets your gaze and says, “Trust me, you’re busy.”

You purse your lips, but Jake can tell that you’re suppressing a smile, so he swipes his thumb over the delicate skin of your lower back, just above the waistband of your shorts. He savors the fleeting lapse in your façade; the subtle flutter of your eyelids as you experience the thrill of his touch – however faint it might be. And it rattles him. Your momentary slip, the nearly imperceptible manifestation of pleasure that hijacks your features, rattles him, as though the arousal had been his own.

And he wants more. He wants to witness every cadence of bliss on your face. He wants to savor every single intake of breath. He wants you, alone, uninhibited.

His grasp constricts around the loop of your waistband, tightening its circumference around your waist. You submit willingly to this additional tug, letting your backside connect with his body as if you want him to pull you closer. To hold you firmer. To grip you harder.

…

“Can I buy you a proper drink?” Jake asks, approaching your seated figure at the bar.

Your gaze drifts up Jake’s body as he situates himself on the stool beside you. You let out a humorless laugh, pointedly pushing away the Screwdriver you’ve been nursing for the past hour.

“Having a good time?” he asks after hailing over the bartender to put in the drink order.

You eye him warily before dropping your gaze into your lap and dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Jake glances around to confirm that there’s nobody nearby. He hooks a hand behind your calf and rotates you to face him on your stool. You lift your eyes carefully. “Are you?”

Jake holds your gaze. “Not particularly.”

You lift your eyebrows unsympathetically. “You should work on your people skills. Might make social gatherings more enjoyable.”

Jake suppresses a grin. “Are you lecturing me on people skills?”

“As a matter of fact, I get along with everybody but you,” you respond haughtily.

Jake smiles, his gaze drifting down to your mouth as you try to keep a straight face. “That’s because you’re not comfortable being yourself with anybody else.” His hand is still tucked into the crevice behind your knee, and he squeezes the muscle of your leg gently.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”

Jake skims his fingers along the underside of your thigh. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your eyes slide over Jake’s shoulder. “He’s just outside,” you say, your voice suddenly on edge.

Jake tilts his head to the side as though he’s puzzled. He’s not; in fact, he was waiting for this reaction. “Your driver?” he asks brazenly.

You give him a flat look. “Oh, you’re being a dick. What a surprise.”

Jake shrugs, curbing the nausea in the pit of his stomach – which definitely doesn’t need a label – with a gulp of beer. He’s not the jealous type. “Why would ‘just a friend’ take issue with our conversation?”

You watch him coolly without responding. Finally, you turn back to the counter and Jake drops his hand from your leg.

Despite his frequent quips about your tendency to distribute your opinion like it’s a courtesy to mankind, the irony of finding himself wondering what’s actually on your mind is not lost on him. Not your stance on the import of exotic fruit or the numerous ways he could reduce his carbon footprint. Not even your unfortunate disdain for his beloved truck, although he might circle back to that one at a later date.

No. These aren’t the things that matter. Not immediately, anyway. What you’re holding back is far more personal. And, with an unpleasant – and therefore significant – pang, Jake realizes that he wants to know. That he isn’t just a stand-in, waiting for Bradley to swoop in and provide timely emotional support. He isn’t an acquaintance making small talk just to pass the time. He isn’t a friend of a friend. Not anymore. Not for a long time. And he cares. He cares about you and your feelings and he cares about your ridiculous principles. He’s unplugged his goddamn table fan, for crying out loud. He mowed his lawn.

“Why did you bring him?” he asks. It’s the same question as before but it’s vulnerable this time around. He’s not demanding an answer. He’s begging for one.

Absently, you twist the stem of your fresh glass between your fingers. For a moment, Jake thinks you might ignore the question. Then, you let out a heavy sigh. “I need him,” you say.

Jake narrows his eyes. Need can take on many forms and he could use an elaboration. “In what sense?” he asks, a little hurt that you don’t seem to need him.

“Can we just move on?” you say irritably, taking a sip of your drink.

Jake shifts his jaw, considering your request. Finally, he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

You look over at him sharply and he can tell that his response has taken you by surprise. If he’s being honest, it’s a bit of a shock to him as well. He’s not one to dwell on matters that don’t concern him. He’s not one to pry. So why won’t he just drop it?

But he’s on his feet before he can process his own actions. He’s speaking before he can gather his thoughts. “You know where I stand, princess,” he says in a low, but assertive voice, somewhere far too close to your ear to resemble a friendly exchange. His hand drifts along the hem of your shorts before he finally turns to walk away.

It takes exactly two seconds for you to call out, “Jake!”

He rotates slowly to look at you, swallowing uncomfortably as he awaits your next move. He watches you calmly, trying his best to quell the hope that’s disturbing his breathing.

You’re gazing at him anxiously, as though the last thing you want is for him to depart. And the regret on your face makes him believe you might reconsider keeping him in the dark. So, against his better judgement, he takes a step back toward you.

And what a relief this brings; as though you’ve got him hooked on a tension cable. But before he can take another step, he hears the front door open, and Mustang’s voice carry confidently over the other patrons’ conversations.

“There’s something I need to get off my chest!” he announces as he makes his way toward the bar.

Jake witnesses the lightning transformation of your face as he nears: confusion – alarm – a forced but terrified smile.

Mustang crashes into the counter clumsily and throws a heavy arm over your shoulders, the weight of which makes you wince. You whisper something indiscernible to him, but he waves a dismissive hand at you before you even finish.

“We wanted to wait until after the party,” he continues in a booming voice as your eyes slide nervously to Jake and then search the restaurant for Bradley. “Because we didn’t want to take away from Mickey’s birthday celebration…”

“What the fuck is going on?” Jake turns to see Bradley at his side.

Jake shakes his head. “He’s hammered.”

Bradley looks down at his watch. “It’s barely noon.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he watches you fidget under Mustang’s arm. This can’t be what you want out of life. It just can’t.

“But I suck at keeping secrets,” Mustang continues with a chuckle.

This piques Jake’s interest. If you’re not going to share with the class, perhaps he can get the necessary intel from Mustang. And he’s almost pleased with this turn of events. Until, that is, Mustang speaks again. And shortly thereafter, Jake feels like he might just throw up.

Mustang grins broadly and looks down at you lovingly. He cups your cheek with his hand tenderly. He kisses your forehead. And then he turns back to the growing crowd of spectators. “We’re engaged!” he declares. “We’re getting married!”

Read Part 9

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you guys liked this chapter! Sometimes I wanna shake these two and say, in my best Mav voice, "Don't think just talk!" They still have a ways to go.. Until next time! xoxo

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments!

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@army24—7

@creativitybeware 

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@dempy

@lanie-k

@clancycucumber230

@littlebookbengal

@zbeez-outlet

@the-winter-marvel33

@potato-girl99981

@phantomxoxo

@flashyourgreeneyesatme

@thenewdaysalreadyhere

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - We need a U-joint

*Warning Adult Content*

By Wednesday, Emmett Locke was fit to be tied. He had almost made a few decisions and then changed his mind before deciding again. He needed to plan their date for the weekend but couldn't quite bring himself to do it before handling one little thing. He smiled at his own joke as he pushed himself out from underneath the Wrangler.

"How's it look?" Peter asked, leaning against his red Mustang and wiping his dirty hands on a towel.

"We need a u-joint, the drive shaft looks okay. Should take about two hours once the part is in and you owe me ten dollars."

Peter scoffed and stood, reaching for his wallet which wasn't there.

"I don't even have my wallet, shit."

"Cocky much? No worries, you can pay me tomorrow. I assume you're good for it," Emmett teased, happy to have won.

Then another thought popped into his head.

"Or you could pay me in information. Do you know how well Tristan and Finnegan know each other?"

Peter wasn't sure why he was asking and then realized that he might be worried about things getting hairy with his job.

"It's not going to affect anything, Emmett. Your job is safe and it's not going to be an issue if things between go south with you guys, no worries."

It had crossed his mind but honestly, Emmett didn't think he would be that guy. Plus, Peter needed him... end of story.

"No, that's not why I'm asking although I appreciate you saying that but no, I need his help, maybe."

Peter took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to say what he was thinking politely.

"I don't want to overstep but bringing someone else into your relationship is usually a bad idea. Man, that boy has you working hard, doesn't he?"

It seemed like Emmett was working almost as hard as he had for Tristan. Had he looked so lost, confused and tired when he was wooing his boy? Probably.

"I'm going to order that part and get us some drinks, take a break."

Before doing any of that he took a second to send a quick text to Tristan, asking him to look around for his wallet if he was at home. Emmett took the Pepsi gratefully, twisting off the top.

"Went for the hard stuff this time."

Peter smiled.

"You look like you need it."

He took a large swig, enjoying the sensation of the bubbles sliding down his throat.

"Finnegan isn't making things hard, not really... they just are for some reason. Maybe it's me... I'm not real good at dating, haven't had much practice. And Finnegan is just so out of my league. I mean he's the vice president of some big company and he wears a suit to work. I'm not sure what we're doing together."

Peter didn't like the sound of that and had no idea why Emmett was putting himself down.

"I don't know what you mean. You're hot, you served our country for what? Eight years? You've got a good job, a place. I guess you could wear a suit in here if you really wanted to but no ties, that could be dangerous."

Emmett chuckled.

"Screw you man, I'm not wearing a monkey suit. You're right, everything is just... I don't know how to describe it. I'm off balance. I'm not sure exactly what he wants but I think I'm figuring it out. I'm just scared to bring it up because I don't know him well enough to know how he'll react. I mean, he didn't tell me about it so maybe I should wait for him."

Crap, maybe he did need Tristan. Not because Tristan knew Finnegan, necessarily but Peter just was not cut out for this sort of conversation. Tristan would know what to say or at the very least he would word vomit something which would be funny at the very least and quite possibly helpful.

"I don't know but you two can't just stare at each other for months. If he's not going to take the initiative, maybe you should."

The front door opened a bit before getting caught in the wind and blowing open, a twirling Tristan coming in its wake.

"Sorry, I got it," he said, kicking the door shut since his arms were full of bags.

"I have your wallet and I thought you might need some lunch, too. Sorry babe."

"Not your fault and you didn't need to bring us lunch although it looks like you have enough for about eight. I assume this means you're going to stay?" Peter asked hopefully.

"You know me, indecisive boy," he answered, smiling.

"And yes... I can eat."

"Everybody into the office," Peter said, grabbing the bags and leading the way.

He was only a few bites into his sandwich when a customer walked through the front door. Emmett started to get up but he held out his hand.

"I'll get it... you two can talk."

Tristan raised his eyebrows and then washed down his chips.

"Talk?"

This was his chance and Emmett decided to take it.

"How well do you know Finnegan Walker?"

Tristan wasn't sure exactly how to characterize their relationship.

"We're sort of like family. Saw him a couple times a year and we had a blast. We just got along, you know? He's great but I haven't seen him as much the past few years, mostly because I avoided my dad's stuff as much as humanly possible. Why?"

Why? That was a very good question. How could Emmett phrase this without possibly outing Finnegan? He had no idea whether or not Tristan knew anything but he had to say enough so that Tristan would know he knew and wouldn't feel like he was outing Finnegan either. This was too hard.

"I uh, I just recently..."

Figured out? No, Tristan might not want to say anything if he wasn't sure. Learned? Sure, that would work.

"Um, learned that Finnegan sort of, well, needs a little more care than most of us, if you catch my drift."

There, that had been okay, right? It took him a second but suddenly he figured it out.

"Oh, the leukemia thing. No, he's fine now. At least I think he is. Isn't he?"

Tristan had been told that the longer Finnegan stayed in remission, the better things looked. Of course they had all worried for the first couple of years but that had all happened ages ago. Emmett tried to not lose his lunch. Leukemia? Cancer? No, no way... not cancer, not again.

"Emmett? Is Finnegan okay?" Tristan demanded.

"Oh God it's back? SHIT. Why did you go bowling? He shouldn't be around all those people, should he? Is he in treatment? Chemo again, right? And he's still working? Why? Oh my..."

"Tristan? I didn't know he was sick. He hasn't said anything." 

He hadn't meant to upset Tristan, that hadn't been the goal at all.  Cancer.

"I don't understand. Is he sick or not? Why would he need you to take care of him if he's not?"

Well, that answered that question, Tristan obviously didn't know about him being a little. And now Tristan was so worked up that there was no way they could talk about anything.

"Calm down, I'm sure he's fine. He would have told us, right?"

"Look..." he said before he was interrupted but the words were hollow even to his own ears.

"Are you two okay?" Peter asked, closing the door behind him.

"Kitten?"

He preferred to be the one to make Tristan breathe that hard although karate certainly did too. Why was he upset?

"You okay?"

"I uh, I guess? I don't know. I need to call Finnegan... like NOW. I'll see you at home later, babe."

Emmett saw the delivery guy pull into the lot and took the chance to escape.

"Looks like the u-joint is here. I'll get to it."

Peter ended up in the office alone and knew he should probably be doing something but it was quiet for the moment and he was not the kind of man to ever pass up a good hoagie. Besides, this all stank of drama and he had never enjoyed it. Yes, better to wait until Emmett was under the Wrangler for him to finish fiddling with the mustang. Then he'd go home, sooner rather than later and check on Tristan.

[awoken-artist]

🌸🍡Please don't steal and resubmit/repost my works without my permission! thanks!🍡🌸 🌸🍡-----------------------🍡🌸 I forgot to submit this last month of 2021s final days but- eh i was busy with my own things going on. I drew this in my twitch stream because its been a very long while since Ive drawn anything Fullmetal Alchemist related. I think its cause certain FMA artists that are "popular" really was being super nit picky with my OC and its- very tiring. Now im just not giving much of a damn what they think. Just because your popular doesn't mean you get to nit pick my OC because god forbid she is paired with Edward Elric. but anywho~ onto the comic- yeah theres no words to put into it on what they said but- maybe when i finally color it [If i remember to XD] i'll add some more into the lil comic and such.  Tho anyways to explain about this real quick. 2 things: 1st being - I do have a FMA Storyline idea how Edward and Emmy have met. One of following the brotherhood storyline and 2003 Original storyline since both have different things going on it it. 2003 being more dark then anything, and humunculi being very different how theyre actually created and actually have unique weakness's and such and so on. plus different villians , etc. This one is being followed with the 2003 original FMA storyline with shamballa [conqueror of shamballa timeline after the anime series ended and now continue with the film].  2end explaining about the comic- since 2003 FMA is more darker , the storyline for these two also encounters dark shit going on and boy i have- very sad stuff to share on that one for sure.. ;; now- for the comic here- is when Ed and Em finally reunite once again. [Quick warning if you have NOT seen the conqueror of shamballa film this will contain spoilers further ahead. You've been warned.] - - - now how does this even happen?? how did emmy even manage to cross through the portal? Funny because she actually snuck onto the ship Edward was on. Now when the whole fight happened on the ship, emmy was there fighting alongside roy mustang, and alphonse. Alphonse was obviously upset that edward decided to go back to the portal, back to germany and close the portal so no other can come to his home again and try doing the same disastrous atrocities again. of course alphonse snuck onto the ship, but emmy also snuck on as well..which roy tried to convince both alphonse and emmy that they shouldnt even though they are both determined to stay by edward and not lose him again. of course roy had a feeling he would probably do this regardless since its edward. edward would literally do anything to make sure no one has to be hurt and if theres a way for him to do so he will do it in a heart beat..  so- after edward realizing alphonse snuck on and of course been busy with closing the portal finally and left. One of the guys who worked with Alphonse Hiderich heard something while helping with the other guys even hughes to get the dead soliders out of the suits, they heard breathing and found emmy in one of the suits when they moved it and the front part of the suit was loosened and she fell out. they checked her pulse and found shes alive and is just unconsious, and took her to the hospital right away.  Hughes does come back to check in on the girl, and felt she may be a friend to Edward and his brother, and tried to reach him but couldnt get much in contact, plus unsure if he should after what just even happened. He did made up with gracia and such after some time, and emmy finally awoke and Hughes took her in with Gracia so Gracia helps her out. I think emmy had a bit of a headache from the trip and saw familiar faces but realizes quickly they arnt the same as the ones back home.. so- yeah uh how many times shes seen edward and alphonse and wasnt sure - to BOTH of them, that "theres no way thats them". it took them- jesus many occasions to where they pass eachother and then just both of them would quickly look at eachother and are unsure what to say or what they can say to see if its REALLY them?  so that happens

many times, to where emmy was frustrated, edward was also kind of frustrated because he couldnt get her out of his head. [now before this encounter as seen in the comic, he was frustrated where Noah asked him whats wrong. He tells her that his friend Emmy may of snuck onto the ship as well like alphonse, but both he and alphonse didnt even know, but he isnt sure and says that its hard to even tell if its really them because everyone looks exactly the same but they arnt in this world. Noah understands its becoming frustrating for him to see someone he knows but isnt sure if its really them or just their parallel self.. Noah , even though her fore sight is better when they are asleep..asked if she can maybe see something. she sees they do meet again..but its different. she recommended if he sees her again - to ask her. The same , kind of thing, happens with Emmy but with gracia but emmy isnt sure if she should even say anything about her being from another world, until gracia sat down with her alone and told her what hughes told her. emmy felt kind of relieved and gracia was never one to judge. emmy did end up getting emotional... of how frustrating it is to see people she sees that looks exactly like the people she knew, but they arnt the same... gracia encourage her to meet up with edward if she sees him again and emmy hopes to at least see him to finally just settle things.] the comic here is where both of them had alot on their minds, edward trying to distract himself but couldnt because he just isnt sure where emmy could of gone, and emmy also isnt sure where edward is at the moment, until they pass eachother and a sense of realizing its them just hit them. they finally face eachother which they stared for a while with uncertainty until it only took both of them to reconize a few details that was stupidly overlooked. their automail. how its designed.. for edward it would be emmys scars and the locket. they both asked if they are who they think they are... and mentions some names like Amestris, Alchemy and the Philosipher stone... humuncili. Then out of a habit [between edward and emmy] is edward making a comment where idk he said something dumb where emmy just punches him in the gut because hes trying to make a joke and she was like "i wish you could of said something you fricken dork" and they both argued at eachother. then finally ends up where they couldnt look away from eachother and just- end up in a very emotional spiral where emmy was so relieved that hes okay, and that it really is him and she finally lets everything out. edward , while he hasnt cried or shed tears in- a while but still will show how upset he is... i think a few words where spoken while emmy was slowly starting to cry in the few final panels.  well- yeah uh- while edward was gone things went so bad for her.. its not his fault mind you just a shit ton of things happened. I'll explain by dialogue: -------------------------------------- Edward , still having his hands clench his stomach from the blow he received from Emmys left automail fist, he grumbles as tries to speak "damn it emmy why did you even follow us? you could of gotten hurt or worse!" "Because I WANTED to Ed! I wanted to follow because im not..Im not going to lose you again like I lost everyone else!" she clenched her sweater pretty hard after saying that as silence was all its left between them for a moment, the only sounds be the civilians and the cars passing by.  Edward stared at the sorrowful brunette as he was confused what she meant by it, but...in truth, deep inside he had a idea what it actually is but he shook his head to not even think of such worse outcomes. "Emmy what are you talking abou-" before he could continue emmy interrupted him as her voice was choked up. "hes gone...t-t-they are all gone.." "E-Emmy..what do...you mean by that?" he asked looking at her more concerned as Emmys blue eyes stared at his amber golden ones while tears threaten to stream down her face. "..w-while you...w-where gone...and m-missing.. s-so much has happened.. my g-grandparents..

e-even my own brother.. i.." she swallowed to try and not start bawling right away. trying hard not to cry quickly from explaining. Edward frowned..as he felt his heart sunk.. "..what happened.." he asked as his tone was softened as he got closer to her.  Emmys breath was shaking as she tries to calm down, but she couldnt stop herself from trembling "..i followed...because i couldnt lose you again...edward i thought you died for fuck sakes... my grandparents.. they passed away..both from being so bed ridden and sick.. their health declining... my brother was sent off to war.... and he was killed.... he tried his best to stay alive but he got killed..by a surprise attack.. they tried to save him..when he came home but he was long gone before they could even do anything..." her tears stream more down her face "o-once i saw you..i.. i was so relieved and happy you were alive....but so fucking mad at you too!" she clenched her sweater more "i know..you said you come back and y-you did... but seeing you leave i just couldnt just stand by and let you... so i followed... i know im leaving my home, my world i was born in...but my family thats left is gone.. i'll miss my friends of course but- i..." she started to sob as she tries wipe her hears away as edward couldnt help but teared up a bit as he kissed her forehead, seeing she was really hurting. Emmy quickly rest her head against his chest and hugged him tightly as she cried against his chest as Edward hugged her tight "...amestris may be my home...and world im from but your my world...and i dont want to let you go again.. just.. d-dont leave me alone again..." edward hugged her tightly as he burried his face against her shoulder ".. never again. im sorry your in so much pain... it'll be okay.." as he lets emmy cry as much as she can as Alphonse and Noah looked to find Edward and see him reunited with emmy, relieved they are okay.  Will say that it was also emotional for emmy to see alphonse again as they hugged it out as well, cause she and alphonses are really good friends as well so it was emotional for them to. Emmy meets Noah and the two become best friends later where they talk to eachother and everything about their troubles.  gah who cut onions in here quq I hope you guys enjoyed the dialogue at least- i hope to finally eventually make the literature work of how the two meet or finally make a comic. god either one of them- so look out for that because i havent forgotten about it just- chaos... 2021 aint helping with that. ouo; 🌸🍡-----------------------🍡🌸 Want to catch my Twitch streams when I do art?  Click here to my Twitch channel! 🌸🍡-----------------------🍡🌸 Artwork and FMA OC Emmy Rosenthal © by: @awoken-artist FMA and character Edward Elric © by: Hiromu Arakawa Programs Used: Clip Studio Paint EX

[tundrainafrica]

Hi, i saw some time ago you compared Royai to Levihan, would you mind elaborating more on their similarities? I ship both and looking at they compared blow my mind

YES. Beautiful ask anon! As always, sorry for only getting into this now, my inbox is still a mess I am currently trying to make sense of. But legit, I could talk about this for hours. Cause I’m that fucking simp who just randomly goes on Youtube and watches the Riza breakdown vs. Lust  scene just to see some GREATTT acting and some great crumbs. 

So anyway, will be moving on now to this really long and--mind you--uncurated rant. 

Disclaimer though: Although I have watched all the fullmetal stuff, from the first anime, to brotherhood to the manga and have lurked in the fanfiction sites long before (like fam, this anime is literally my childhood it’s such a big part of my life that when I hear ‘mustang’ I think of roy mustang not the car), but at this point, the main story line for me is a blur and I probably just remember only the Roy scenes and the Royai scenes well. 

I was not a big fan of Edwin for multiple reasons. 

Warning: Spoilers abound for FMA so read at your own risk. And for people who watch FMA but not AOT, spoilers abound for AOT is well.

So there are a lot of similarities between Levihan and Royai and I think this is the reason why Levihan definitely appealed to me a lot as a couple. Royai after all was my OG ‘I think I wanna be in this type of relationship’ type of couple. 

Military Setting

I’ve always found these types of relationships interesting cause I like to think, you’re in such a high stakes and very stringent atmosphere where you could die at any moment and you’re constantly doing such morally grey things. And with that, people have the tendency to either close in on themselves and just keep to themselves or just go crazy over time. Yet you have people who find the time to form CLOSE and almost ROMANTIC bonds with your fellow soldiers

And I just like the process of exploring how this happens. And you know what makes it juicier? 

    2. The commander to the subordinate dynamic (with a twist)

The boss to the follower dynamic because Royai and Levihan are both incredibly healthy and stable relationships but they both come from something taboo right? A commander to subordinate relationship? So we ask ourselves? How did they both make it work? 

Well, what I notice is despite the implied respect Riza and Levi both hold for Roy and Hange respectively, due to their positions in the military, do you notice Hange and Roy still have respect over Levi and Riza’s opinions. I cannot remember all the scenes in both shows but remember that scene where Riza would just stop Roy half way into fighting when it’s raining because sometimes he does forget that he can’t do his fire thing when it’s raining? It shows obviously that Riza could undermine his decisions if she finds them completely idiotic or out of the blue. Or that scene where Roy was curbstomping Envy when he found out Envy killed Hughes? 

So, the thing is Levi and Hange worked like this too. Even before Hange became commander, I think there was an already implied hierarchical difference between being ‘squad leader’ and being ‘team captain.’ Squad leader’s are generally in a higher position and command a much larger group and do you see how Levi approaches Hange? Like when telling her off about risking her life when trying to capture the titan? 

And even when she was commander, that telepathy scene?? Can we appreciate, that when Hange became commander (compared to when Erwin was commander), Levi took the reins of a lot of the leading in the survey corps, as if he understood his job wasn’t just to follow Hange but to take care of her? 

Like I’m sure Riza saw her job more as a caretaker to Roy more than his subordinate and seeing this in Levihan was just fantastic.

And another thing I love about both of them...

  3. They were just the two competent level headed people

This is such a trope for me. I cannot handle couples where someone is just not competent or is so obviously underpowered compared to the other. Like I want them to be able to handle themselves without the other. And even when they’re alone they’re doing shit and you just find out later, by the way I have this bf/gf/partner who is equally competent. But when we’re together we just share one brain cell because we can practically melt when we’re safe with the other. 

And the thing is since they’re in a military setting we don’t see them ‘practically melt,’ we can usually just pick out the crumbs (ehem 126), and the fact that these crumbs are such rare gems, makes it all the jucier. 

And here’s the thing, in animes and in stories, this ‘competent people’ couple is usually supporting cast cause I dunno? Nobody wants to hear about the competent couple who just figured out they like each other and they just like hanging out with each other for some reason? 

And most adventure stories are underdog stories where we watch people start of as dead weight and get stronger which is not boring per se but I dunno, these couples usually dont’ appeal to me fsr because I’m all for the power couple dynamic and the protagonists always have something going on making them doubt their strength so yeah.  And there’s usually this token love interest who’s not as strong and tries not to be useless but is kinda dead weight.

4. Their special abilities? 

Levi and Hange are a power couple the way Roy and Riza are. When these two couples were introduced into their respective stories, they were all well established as bad asses. We have humanity’s strongest, humanity’s smartest then in FMA we have the flame alchemist one of the strongest alchemists and we have Riza who’s crazy good with a gun. 

5. They were never that in your face couple

As said above, I really love competent people ships but nobody really likes reading about people being competent and having their level headed shit together so these characters end up with more of supporting character energy who have their ‘big damn heroes’ moments where they swoop in and save the protagonist. 

And the thing is, since they’re supporting characters, there’s so much more room to move when contemplating such couples because the crumbs are there? But at the same time they’re not there? And since I like exploring my own headcanons about those ‘boring’ yet incredibly stable and mature relationships, these tend to be my favorite characters to shoehorn into my spotify playlists.

Edwin and Eremika respectively have more ‘in your face’ crumbs and I dunno, their crumbs for me always seemed to be too obviously there where I was like ‘okay cute relationship’ but  ‘I wouldn’t wanna be in a relationship like that’  kinda way. 

And since main protagonist romantic subplots crumbs are already ‘in my face’ I end up thinking to myself, what’s there to headcanon?

And like they go through so much more problems romance wise since obviously they are the protagonist. But I guess for me, I never liked those couples who were so obviously together and go through problems that bystanders are aware of. Because I dunno, people might not agree with me but it doesn’t sit well with me when EVERYBODY knows about the problems between two certain people in a relationship. 

I always liked those couples who just start off as two people hanging out together and then like five years you find out, they live together and have five cats and it turns out they’ve been married for two of those three years. 

And power couples just make it work? Because the stories tend to focus on them being competent people more than being in love so when the coupling actually happens it’s like: 

“Wow you live together and have five cats, you worked so hard for it, I’m so happy for you.” 

Instead of you know, watching people go through like 3456 instances of miscommunication drama just to end up in a still seemingly doubtful relationship.

6. Iconic scenes for Levihan and Royai? 

And here’s the beautiful thing about the crumbs of both of these ships, they are incredibly apparent when the stakes are high and this is *chef’s kiss.* This is literally the climax, the peak to such subtle crumbs. Like okay, fine it’s satisfying to see the main protagonist and their main love interest doing shit and loving each other when the stakes are high like in Season 2 of AOT with Mikasa thinking she’s gonna die so she confesses to Eren or maybe that Naruto and HInata scene in the Pain Arc where Hinata just pops in and saves Naruto and kinda dies in the process

But can we all agree that there is something very very very satisfying about seeing two people who are probably not or are probably dating just going crazy for each other when the stakes are high? Like yo, come on. 

My favorite scenes for Royai: The Lust fight scene, the Envy fight scene and lastly, the scene where Roy opens the gates to save Riza and goes blind. Can we just appreciate the fact that Roy risked his Colonel dreams to save Riza by going blind??

And for Levihan? I’m sure Levihans are tired of hearing the chapter numbers but 115? That’s fucking iconic, Hange ltierally jumped into the river with Levi and please tell me that is not a parallel to Roy opening the gates for an already half dead Riza. Mind you, Hange did not even know if Levi would make it or not and she probably didn’t know if she would make it or not either. Any of the soldiers could have literally just shot into the river and nicked them with bullets.  She just literally abandoned everything and wooshed to the river. 

And I had this convo with a few other people and we were thinking about what if it was anyone else who found Levi. And we came to the conclusion that IT HAD TO BE HANGE. Because somehow, I feel like Hange would have been one of the only few, if not the only one who would have gathered up the courage to jump into the river and risk their own life to save Levi. 

And for the next part... Disclaimer: This is just my opinion, please let’s not start a ship war.

Like with the war on twitter “Levihan vs. Eruri,” I started to reflect as well on whether or not Erwin would have saved Levi if he was there instead of Hange but I think it is less likely that Erwin would have saved Levi. Erwin probably wouldn’t have agreed with the rumbling definitely but I cannot help but think, Erwin approached his commander position like a chess master and with this, approached Levi as a superior while Hange approached Levi as an equal and a best friend. 

So if, saving Erwin was just going to mess with plans let’s say to manipulate the Yaegerists for some greater purpose, would Erwin have just let Levi die? 

7. The magic is no one fits Roy or Riza perfectly.

I had these same thoughts with Shikatema vs. Levihan and now Royai vs. Levihan. So comparing their dynamics, I just have to say, that none of them fit each other perfectly. Hange has Riza and Roy crumbs and Levi has Riza and Roy crumbs too. 

Like Roy is some ridiculously strong (Levi) superior (Commander Hange) with a seemingly goofy personality (Hange). Riza is the subordinate (Levi) who’s equally reliable but not as overpowered (Hange) with a very strict but very obviously emotionally constipated personality (Levi) 

Like if you put Levihan in some of the token Royai moments. Like the Lust fight? I think Levi would have done something similar to Riza. Okay, he wouldn’t have broken down right then but he would have done something similar to what Roy did when he found out Envy killed Hughes. 

I’m convinced Hange would have had a breakdown which is more of an in between between what Roy (Envy fight) and Riza (Lust fight) had in their respective fights. I mean 115 is proof enough that Hange ain’t playing when her bebeluvs is in danger. 

8. And towards the end of the series?

Okay this is where the comparisons just kinda diverge because this part makes me sad. In the end game, Royai worked together. Riza became the eyes of Roy when he was making shit explode in the final battle coz he was blind. 

And Hange and Levi were completing each other towards the of the AOT end right? Not just with the jian bird references with having parallel injuries. In the final battle though when Levi was out of commission due to the explosion, Hange was the one fighting with the crew until 132. And the moment she died, Levi stepped up and fought right? 

Like they had something similar going on, where these two were covering for each other and taking care of the kids. It’s just that compared to Royai who were explicitly working together, we have Hange covering for Levi right after he got injured and Levi stepping up to cover for Hange after she died. 

AND I can’t help but think, literally post time skip just could not handle Levihan working together huh? Is that how competent Levi and Hange are as soldiers that Yams couldn’t let them work together just one last time? Like he knew it would mess with the story if he lets Levi and Hange lead at full power?

Which brings me to last point, and the point that makes me saddest.

9. About them being endgame? 

Okay, so it wasn’t confirmed that Roy and Riza ended up together because Roy still had his fuhrer goals but AT LEAST THEY HAD A CHANCE? Like their last scene in the show was still them together? And Riza still at least got to follow him? 

Levihan… They just… shit just happened and we all know what happened and now I’m reading fanfiction and crying over fcitoonal characters to pass the quarantine.

Anyway, if you reached this point, thank you for reading. And thank you for the question anon!

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Jealous - Brett Talbot x Reader

(gif source)

Summary: y/n’s car breaks down and a classmate of hers gets a little flirty while helping her. Brett is Not A Fan.

Word Count: 2004

Warnings: cursing & a cute lil fluffy ending

a/n: this is my first brett x reader fic (i’m having quite a few firsts, aren’t i?), requested by @anamxleetuan​ . i’m currently open for requests, so feel free to send some in! also, this is a wee bit dialogue heavy, i hope ya like it anyway.

masterlist

“Crap” y/n muttered to herself as she unsuccessfully tried to start her car for the fourth time. Her little sedan was about twenty years old and had definitely seen better days, but it got her from point A to point B so she couldn’t complain too much. Until now, when she was stranded in the school parking lot. She groaned and rested her forehead on the steering wheel in between her hands. Of course this had to happen in the middle of August, when the lovely California weather was resting at a not-so-comfortable 88 degrees. 

She was about to dial her boyfriend, Brett, when she remembered that he was at lacrosse practice and probably wouldn’t see any calls or texts for at least another hour. With the exception of herself and a few of the lacrosse players’ cars, the parking lot was completely deserted. y/n tried for a fifth and final time to start her car, the vehicle sputtering and going silent once again. She huffed out an annoyed breath before mustering up the will to get off of the surprisingly comfortable seat and try to find out what was wrong. 

No one was ever able to make the mistake of thinking y/n y/l/n couldn’t take care of herself. She made sure she always knew at least the basics for responding to accidents and emergency situations. She practically knew enough first aid to tack an M.D. to the end of her name, she knew how to replace her own flat tires, and had proved on multiple occasions - much to Brett’s surprise - that she had good enough survival skills to last in the woods for a few days on next to nothing. Yet, here she was, frustration growing with each additional minute she spent out in the sun as she tried to figure out why her car wouldn’t start. After studying the contents underneath the hood for a solid five minutes and finding nothing out of place visually, she cursed under her breath. It’s the damn battery. Of course that dash light isn’t working, either. Conveniently enough, she had no jumper cables, however, the more obvious set back was that she was lacking another car to jump hers with.

y/n groaned as she threw her head back and rubbed a hand over her face. She was weighing her options - wait for Brett to finish practice and catch a ride home with him or call a repair service that she definitely didn’t have the money for - neither of which seemed ideal. She was interrupted mid-thought when she heard someone clear their throat behind her and she jumped, her heart practically beating out of her chest. She turned to look at the source of the noise, a hand delicately resting over her chest in attempts to calm her racing heart. Part of her was prepared to encounter the latest supernatural villain to grace Beacon Hills when she turned around, so she was pleasantly surprised when she was met with a boy she recognized from her biology class. He wore a bright smile that would make any girl weak in the knees and his honey brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight. Max, I think his name is… Just before she was about to open her mouth to introduce herself, he spoke first.

“y/n, right? From biology?” he asked. y/n shook her head with a smile, a little bit surprised that he knew her name considering the fact that she didn’t really talk to anyone in her classes. He cleared his throat after not-so-discreetly checking her out for a moment. “I’m Max. You need some help?” he offered. In that moment y/n found herself thanking everything that was holy for the unexpected encounter with her classmate.

“Actually, yeah. Do you have any jumper cables?” she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes. Max smiled back and nodded.

“I do. I’ll go grab my car and meet you back here,” he finished as he began to walk away. y/n nearly squealed in excitement. Okay, so maybe getting her car jumped wasn’t as big of a blessing as she was making it out to be, but it meant she didn’t have to shell out hundreds of dollars to a repair service that probably wouldn’t do anything anyways, it also meant she didn’t have to wait out in the sun for her boyfriend to finish lacrosse practice.

Max pulled his car into the spot next to hers and y/n had to admit that she was impressed. She let her eyes roam over the contours of his sleek black mustang as she bit her lip and he smirked a little to himself at her reaction. The sound of the car door shutting snapped her out of her trance and she looked up with a grateful smile. Max returned her smile as he moved towards the trunk of his vehicle, pulling out the jumper cables. He popped his car’s hood and began hooking up the cables. y/n offered to do it but Max declined, insisting on doing it himself. Ah, would you like at that, chivalry isn’t dead. After he hooked up the cables and started running his car, he leaned against his hood and they started talking about different things, mostly school though. If y/n wasn’t mistaken, the tall, deep brown haired boy who she’d never formally spoken to was flirting with her.

y/n was so wrapped up in her conversation with Max that she didn’t see Brett coming out of the locker room with his lacrosse duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Max checked his watch and figured enough time had passed for y/n to be able to start her car. He gestured for her to do so and she excitedly walked towards the driver door, swinging her key ring around her index finger. She slowly turned the key in the ignition, crossing her fingers as she did so. When the car hummed to life she cheered out loud, pumping her fist into the air. Before she knew what she was doing, her excitement took over and she wrapped Max in a bone crushing hug. Brett raised his eyebrows from afar and picked up his pace as he walked towards the pair.

“Oh, shit,” y/n murmured once she realized what she was doing and quickly pulled away. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. That was probably so awkward and out of line- I’m just- I’m just really excited, thank you so much,” she rushed out sheepishly, wringing her hands together. Max simply looked down at her smugly before turning to unhook the cables.

“I don’t mind, sweetheart,” he smirked in her direction. Though Brett was still out of normal earshot, his heightened senses picked up every word of the conversation. He normally didn’t consider himself to be a jealous person, but he’d be lying if he said that the way Max looked at y/n and the way he called her “sweetheart” didn’t set him on edge. It wasn’t until Brett stood only a few parking spaces away from y/n car that either of them took notice of his presence. 

“Oh! Hey Brett!” y/n beamed as she turned towards him. Her bright smile and the innocent glint in her eyes was almost enough to tame his jealousy. Almost.

“Hey, babe,” Brett replied, placing special emphasis on the pet name. He approached her and wrapped an arm around her back, letting his fingers rest firmly on her hip as he kissed her cheek. Max watched the exchange between the two, suddenly feeling a little deflated. His Adam's apple bobbed while he swallowed thickly as Brett shot daggers at him with his eyes. y/n noticed the look Brett was throwing Max’s way and internally rolled her eyes. He’s acting like a territorial dog, she thought. In attempts to diffuse the situation, she cleared her throat, interrupting the one-sided staring match.

“Brett, this is Max from my bio class. Max, this is Brett, my boyfriend.” she introduced the boys. Max coughed, assumedly choking on his own spit, and offered a nervous smile to Brett, who simply gave a curt nod of his head. This time when y/n rolled her eyes she didn’t try to hide it. Knowing that her boyfriend’s mood wouldn’t improve while Max was still with them, she decided to wrap things up for everyone’s sake. She lightly elbowed Brett’s side, feeling bad for Max, the confident boy appearing a little frightened now (and probably rightfully so).

“Well, I really appreciate all your help, you’re seriously a life-saver,” y/n thanked him. Brett bit his tongue and turned his head to the side, trying to keep his cool as Max seemed to become more relaxed while y/n spoke to him.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Max cleared his throat. “I should, um, I should- I should probably get going,” he stammered out in a questioning tone. “See you in biology,” he finished, smiling warmly but nervously before he got into his car. Brett stared at Max driving away until the black mustang pulled out of the parking lot. When he turned back, y/n was looking up at him with a disappointed look on her face.

“Really?” she gestured to where Max’s car was once parked. In all honesty, she found his antics more amusing than she did annoying, but that didn’t mean he had to scare her classmate. Brett shrugged his shoulders shamelessly as he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head. y/n let out a semi-frustrated huff but nonetheless relaxed into his arms and wrapped hers around his shoulders.

“He was being too friendly,” Brett argued as he brushed some of his girlfriend’s hair out of her face. 

“He was being helpful. You scared him,” she replied, her chin resting on his chest as she glanced up at him. Brett smirked before leaning down to give her a sweet kiss.

“Good,” he murmured against her lips, the smirk still plastered across his face. y/n rolled her eyes and lightly swatted his chest, before pulling away as a smirk of her own slowly spread across her face. Brett’s smile faded as he took in her mischievous look.

“What,” he asked blankly, not entirely sure he wanted to know what had her grinning that way. She slowly began walking backwards, poking his chest as she distanced herself.

“You’re jealous,” she teased, a devious glint in her eye. He let out a short laugh, throwing his head to the side in amusement.

“I am not,” he bluffed. The moment the words left his lips y/n knew she was right, she could read him a little too well.

“Oh man, you totally are,” she laughed as she turned to walk towards the driver door to get in her car. She added a bit of swing to her hips as she walked away to seal the deal and it didn’t take long before Brett cracked. He was on her in seconds, pressing her up against the side of her car as he breathed down her neck.

“So maybe I am. I can’t help it that you’re so damn hot,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. She turned around in his arms so her back could rest on the car as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. Her eyes danced over his face as she took in his sharp features and warm eyes.

“No need to worry, babe. I only have eyes for you,” y/n assured with a wink and small grin. She continued to stare up at him, love swirling in her eyes as she took in the way he practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Brett replied, resting a hand on the back of her neck as he leaned down to capture her lips in a slow, loving kiss.

join my tag list!

tag list: @linkpk88​

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ FIFTEEN SECONDS ❜

with Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes.

Request: Hi! I get super nervous doing this.🙈 I was wonderings if you could do one with Ez in which the reader was Ez friend and she is in love with him but she was the one who introduced Emily to him. After he got out of prison she gets super drunk and confesses to him. What happens after that is up to you. Thank you💜

BY @destynelseclipsa

Warnings: angst, a lot of angst.

Word count: about 2.9k

Aurora says: thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford, for helping me! ✨

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

For some reason you don’t know, you’re lying down on the hood of your car, looking at the stars. It’s a beautiful night to think about your life. And maybe you’re a little drunk after too many shots of tequila, having a smoke of the cigarette lighted up between your lips, letting the smoke escape from them like a silent howl. You’ve been eight years waiting for this day, when EZ is finally out of jail, even if the sentence was for fourteen years. You have been visiting him since the first day. Every Thursday, being able just to see him for thirty minutes. But at least, you were there. And now, you’re hearing him cheering with his new friends, the Mayans. The motorcycle club where his brother has been since then. It wasn’t the kind of night you were expecting. You always imagined spending it in your house, with him, having a good dinner and enjoying some horror movies. As you used to do before that everything happened. But here you are, about to go home alone.

The front door of the clubhouse gets opened by the oldest Reyes, coming out accompanied by Coco, Gilly, Creeper and Ezekiel, laughing at some foolishness or funny story they were talking about. Throwing away the cigarette with some rage when you hear them talking about continuing the party at Vicki’s house, you jump off from your car frowning your eyebrows. Of course. The icing on the cake of every party. And it hurts, but you can’t blame him. It’s his night, not yours. He’s not going to do what you want, but what he wants. So the party is over for you. Taking off the keys from your pocket, you try to open the Mustang by putting the key inside the lock, when the guys call for your attention.

“Hey, mami. You comen’ with us?” Coco asks, stopping his legs some meters away from you.

“Nah, I’m pissed off enough”. Forcing a smile, you turn around supporting a hand on the open door.

“Pissed off? Why?” EZ says, narrowing his eyes totally confused.

“Forget it, boy scout”. You snap rolling your eyes, hiccuping and covering your mouth with a hand. “I’m drunk. I think. I don’t know, but I’m leaving home. Have fun with those bitches sucking your fucking cocks”.

“Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, amor”. Angel says then grabbing the keys of your car. “You’re not going anywhere. You can stay here”.

“Bring me back my fucking keys, pendejo”.

“Okay, enough”. EZ replies lifting you up over his shoulder like a heavy bag. “I’ll be back in a minute”.

“EZEKIEL REYES, PUT ME DOWN”. You shout once and again, stirring under his grips on his way to his new roulotte.

He ignores you, opening the door and going upstairs to the inside, taking care of not hitting you with any furniture, until he’s able to throw you on his bed. You kick his right knee in response, putting on well your hair behind your shoulders, while he proffers a ‘shit’ rubbing his leg making you chuckle hiccuping again. Then, you adopt a proud posture, sitting over your forearms with pursed lips, even if you’re feeling pure rage running through your body.

“What was that about, ah?”

“Your bitches are waiting, Ezekiel. Don’t make them wait any longer for the golden dick”.

“Why are you being that dumb?”

“Oh, fuck you”. You just say, trying to get up from the bed but being pushed to it by his hands. “I wanna go… home. Let me in peace, estúpido”.

“You’re not gonna drive in this condition. Stay here”.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re not gonna sleep, right?”

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting weird since I came out?”.

“Cause you changed me for people who didn’t care about you in eight years!” That’s it. You finally say it, even if you didn’t want to.

Putting away your eyes to the window, you can see his brothers resting against your car having a cigarette and waiting for the golden boy. Licking your lower lip, you laugh low after having a heavy breath by your nose about to cry. You’re feeling stupid. You’re feeling exactly the same that when you introduced him to Emily. She was aware of your feelings, and she just shitted on them to destroy part of EZ’s life.

“Hey…”

“Don’t fucking touch me”. You growl slapping the hand coming to your cheek with the clear intention of caressing it. “I have been there the whole fucking time, for you, Ezekiel. I made everything that it was in my hands to make you feel better. And the only… fucking thing I asked for it was this night. Just this night. And you’re fucking leaving with those… guys”.

“I can st—” He tries to say, when you kill him with your gaze.

“I don’t want you to do what I want. I was expecting for you, wanting to be with me”. Some wild tears run down your face, quickly cleaning them with the back of your hands, feeling the pain oppressing your chest again. “You don’t know it, but it’s the second time you do it and I don’t want a third”.

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

It’s normal that he looks this confused, bowing down to sit on his heels next to the bed, placing a hand over the mattress. And you feel terrible bad when you notice that you’re just fucking up his night. The night that you should be laughing, drinking and celebrating, just because of your egoism.

“EZ, please… leave me alone”. You beg him, starting to cry somewhat loud.

“(Y/N), lis—”

“Fucking leave, EZ! I think you’re smart enough to understand it. Fucking leave me, it’s okay. I don’t… give a shit, anymore. Have fun with your brothers, enjoy your night. I ruined it enough”.

“Yes, you did”. He just says with anger on his voice.

He leaves you, exactly as you asked for, even if you were waiting for him to insist a little more. But he didn’t. And now, you can see him through the window walking away and meeting his new family again. So, when he’s far enough from the roulotte and the sound of the engines cover your cry, you finally break into it. The tears are falling down like an angry storm, feeling more unhappy than never. It’s the first time you two argue and you know it’s going to be the last. After all the things you said to him, he probably will set you apart from his life. And you understand it. You can’t blame him for being too stupid, too idiot, too rude with him.

After waiting for some minutes, trying to calm yourself down, you step out from the roulotte walking with some difficulties outside of the scrapyard where the clubhouse is inside of. You just want to go home, lie down on your bed and fall asleep. That’s everything you’re asking for.

EZ is sitting on the porch of Vicki’s house, holding an empty beer with his dark eyes on the horizon. He can’t stop thinking about what you said, and about what you were trying to tell him. And the ideas that are running through his head don't like him. One of his brother's hands narrowed his right shoulder, before having a seat close of him offering another beer. He leaves away the empty one, to grab it and take a long sip, cleaning his mouth with the back of his fingers.

“What’s up?”

“Not much”. The younger replies, shrugging and pursing his lips.

“What (Y/N) said to you, ah?”

“Nothing…”

“Oh, c’mon, hermano. I really understand why she was so annoyed”.

“Do you?”

“I intuit that she didn’t tell you what I was expecting”. His brother says rolling his eyes with a short sigh, drinking from his beer. “She’s been in love with you since… I don’t know… ten years ago, or something like”.

EZ turns at him gulping, placing a foot on a step higher than the other.

“Emily knew that she was in love with you, and that bitch didn’t give a shit, Ezekiel. I was with (Y/N) the night you decided to have your first date with her. You broke his heart, man…”

“I didn’t… know it. I didn’t know it, Angel”.

“Listen, I get that sometimes we don’t have what we want, and if you don’t feel the same for her, it’s okay. But let her know. She did for you more than… I don’t know, maybe more than Pops did for you in his life”.

“What if… But what if I feel the same?”

“Then, I don’t know why the hell you’re here, and not with her. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I need to leave”.

“Yeah, puto pendejo, you need to fucking leave right now”.

You’re not sure if you are taking the right way back home, but who cares. You can’t use your phone because it’s off without a single percent of battery, but you know that you will reach your house at some point in the dawn. At least, you’re not able to text him telling him that you’re sorry or that you hate him. But it’s cold and you would like to hire an uber. Taking off the packet of tobacco from your pocket, you light up a cigarette to have a deep smoke. You’re thinking about the fact that if he didn’t ask for your feelings in all these years, why would he do it now. It has no sense.

After some hours walking through the city, you find your house. Sighing alleviated coming into your street, you look for the keys in your pocket, before going faster to the porch. You’re tired, your feet hurt and the desire of vomiting is only increasing. But when you’re ready to pick up the correct key to open the door, you find EZ there.

“I came bac—”

Raising your right forefinger, you turn to a side to throw everything inside your stomach. Tequila mostly. The younger Reyes walks towards you to grab your hair and help you in some way, chuckling because it’s the first time he sees you too drunk. When you’re done, coughing a little and cleaning your mouth with the bandana hanging from your jeans, you turn to him somewhat dizzy.

“You okay?” He says leaning forward to cup your cheeks on his hands.

“Don’t fu—fucking touch me…” You mutter slapping him away from you.

Continuing to the main door of the house, you fight against the lock, trying to put inside the key. Until EZ wraps your wrist with a hand, taking them with the other to open it.

“I talked with Angel”.

“Congratulations, Reyes”.

Without any word, you come in taking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor, before finding the sofa to lie on. Heel against heel, you undone your sneakers watching him entering too and closing the door. In silence, he sits over the armrest with a curled leg having a quick look of the mess you are right now. He chuckles, twisting his neck as if you were the funniest show he has ever seen.

“We talked about you”.

“Cool, did you tell him I ruined your night?” You snort covering your eyes with a forearm.

“I told him that I ruined my life with the wrong person”.

These words are the spark that lit the fire, kicking him with a leg to throw it out of the sofa, getting up furious while he complains.

“If you came to break my fucking heart again, get the fuck outta my house, Ezekiel!”

“I was talking about Emily, douchebag”. He keeps laughing, trying to stand up supporting his weight on a hand over the armrest. “I didn’t know you were in love with me”.

“Yeah, and I wish I never fell for you”. You say, with your eyes filled with tears again. “I just… fucking turned away from you, because it was fucking painful seeing you with that bitch who used to call herself ‘my friend’. It was fucking painful seeing you being happy with her. And then, I was so fucking stupid that I went every fucking week to see you in that… fucking prison! Watching you falling into pieces for her! Trying to help you to recover for the loss of your mother, for the loss of your… girlfriend and for the loss of the child she aborted in revenge!”

There are no laughs anymore. Ezekiel can feel your pain. He can finally see how you were feeling all this time. And you can’t blame him, because he was dealing with shit more important than it.

“And… I didn’t only because I’m in love with you, but because you’re my friend. And that is what friends do. I just… wanted to be tonight with my friend, finally out of jail for a… fucking mistake. And you chose other people over me again. It’s not fair, EZ. It’s not fucking fair”. You’re gesticulating with both hands more than you can notice, crying and shouting like a possesses. “I didn’t… say anything after being waiting for you for two hours in the door of Stockton, when your brother came with his friends to pick you up. I didn’t say anything when you went to have lunch with them, and not with me. And I didn’t say anything when you told me about the party, in your future club. But now… Now I can’t keep more silence. And… you’re there. Looking at me as if I’m crazy”

“I just want you to take off all that pain I didn’t know you were suffering for”.

“And who fucking cares about my pain, Ezekiel?”

“I didn’t know you were in love with me”. He repeats getting up and walking closer to you, with calmed steps. “And I’m sorry”.

“I am sorry too, for being this… stupid all these years. I fucking get that you’re not in love, but… it was necessary come to my house? I got it in the roulotte. Now you have another chance with life. Enjoy it riding your bike, and doing the shit that Mayans do”.

“I want you by my side”.

“Fuck you, Ezekiel. I’m not gonna be another ten years following your ass, to kick mine when you get tired of it again”.

“I love you, (Y/N)”.

“No, you don’t. You don’t want to lose the only person who has cared about you. But it’s over. I’m not gonna keep breaking myself into pieces to rebuild you. I’m broken enough”.

“I really love you”. He says holding your cheek between his hands, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. “And I wish I could go back on time, but I can’t. I love you and I can’t get tired of telling you... I will never get tired of telling you. Just think, that maybe it wasn’t our moment, but now it is. And I don’t want anything without you”.

“I hope you’re not about to kiss me…” You mutter a little ashamed.

“Why?”

“I just… puke, remember?”

EZ breaks into laughs, surrounding your shoulders with an arm to lead you through the hallway on your way to the bathroom.

“Okay, clean your teeth”.

You have the intention to complain, when he turns on the light pointing it. Rolling your eyes, you take the toothbrush and the toothpaste to put it on it, after wetting it with some water. Then, you repeat. You can’t believe that he’s waiting for you to finish, resting against the doorframe with that charming smile on his mouth. And maybe you’re making the fool of your life, but you’ve been waiting for him to notice you for ten years. So when you spit the last trail of minted toothpaste, he doesn’t waste more time to kiss you. His arms wrap your body, while your hands go to the back of his head, shortening all the distance between both. The mix of beer on his saliva and mint on yours are simply perfect, moving your lips in harmony with his, walking backwards too desperate for finding your room.

“I hope you didn’t… fuck any bitch”. You chuckle between kisses, falling onto your bed.

“Why?” He asks taking off his shirt before accommodating himself among your legs, thrusting you one time to let you feel how hard he is.

“I want my fifteen seconds ride”.

“What the fuck is that?” Sitting up on his heels, Ezekiel watches you laughing and drowning into some coughs.

“A woman told me in the jail, once that I was waiting for you, that when a guy goes out from there, the first time it lasts fifteen seconds”.

The youngest Reyes rubs his forehead with a hand, laughing between teeth before lying down on top of you.

“I bet I can last twenty”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet

If you want to be tagged, send me a message!

[rpd-rookie]

Made in Heaven - Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s note: This was request by @deshibasarathings​. Sorry it took so long. I really wanted to write something original and that looked different from all the other Chris fanfics I read on this subject. Hope you’ll like it

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Language, Alcohol 

It was summer 1998 and as America was still lovingly dancing on “Truly Madly Deeply” on Friday nights, watching Titanic for the umpteenth time at the nearby movie theatre, wearing tight crop tops, colourful scrunchies and Dr Martens, and occasionally gossiping on the Lewinsky scandal at lunch break, Raccoon City was living its last frivolous moments, and the saddest part was that no one had a clue.

“A fresh beer and a girl. That’s all I’m asking for.” Joseph Frost jumped over the door of the old convertible green mustang with enthusiasm, his usual excited smile stretching his young tanned face. “That’s it, you’re sure?” His dear friend, Forest Speyer, asked with an ounce of sarcasm that he didn’t get.             “Fine. A bunch of fresh beers and a girl.” He winked, clicking his fingers cheekily towards Forest who sighed out of exasperation. “Always so optimistic, I see. When will you finally get that there is no woman for you when you go out with Redfield and me?” He scoffed and Joseph’s smile faded away in an instant to turn into a rather sad pout. “Tell him, Chris.”       “Actually guys, I’m alright with just having beers tonight.” Chris confessed as he put the keys of his car in his pocket. “As if it’s gonna change anything. All the chicks will be crawling at your feet anyway, begging you to notice them and forgetting the existence of our delusional friend over there.” Forest waved towards Joseph who glared at him, slightly vexed. A chance the man was not resentful. “Then I’ll introduce them to Jo.” Chris tapped his friend’s shoulder and Joseph regained his smile. “That’s what I call friendship. Thank you, buddy.”       “You know that abstinence won’t make Y/N give herself to you, right?” Speyer mocked; hoping that teasing Chris a bit would make him follow him on the path of seduction, however degrading he had planned it to be. “Jealousy, however …” He raised his eyebrows and Chris shook his head.   “One-night stands are your thing, Forest. Not mine.”       “Weird cause I can remember a couple times when I saw you discreetly leave the bar with a girl on your arm. But that was certainly before Y/N’s sweet round ass joined the team.” He mimed a squeezing motion with both his hands, his tongue raunchily caressing his lips as he sneered, a gesture that made Chris punch him in the arm in retaliation.

He knew what Forest wanted. His friend’s little game was pretty clear even for someone as blunt as Chris. But he was not in the mood to play tonight. And to be honest, he hadn’t been for the last six months or so, ever since you had entered his life with your wit and charming smile and had brought him back to his old high schooler self, meaning goofy and rather unconfident (minus the acne and the greasy hair obviously). “You don’t get it, do you?”       “No, I don’t. Do you get it, Jo?” Joseph Frost shook his head in a rather silly way, a bit like a contorted puppet. “See. No one gets it.”       Chris sighed. “Come on, man! You’re not a fucking priest! So stop drooling over that chick and stop waiting for her. She clearly doesn’t give a damn about you contrary to other millions of women as gorgeous as her who’ll gladly throw themselves at you in a heartbeat. And I’m pretty sure some of them are in this bar, right now.”      

The worst thing about Forest Speyer – apart from his disgusting machismo and his arrogance - was that he was often right, his insight being most of the time spot-on.     And as the three friends entered the bar, Chris couldn’t help but notice his colleague was once again astoundingly correct since the second he stepped a foot in Jack’s Bar, adjusting his brown leather jacket around his muscular body, a pair of Ray-ban Aviator à la Top Gun hanging from the collar of his military-green V-neck, more than one head turned to goggle at him and only him.             But it wasn’t Chris’ nature to brag or to strut and so he simply approached a clean table with his friends, ignoring the stares, and waved hello at Cindy Lennox behind the counter. She immediately welcomed them with her usual warmth. “Same as usual, boys?”       “Always.” They answered in unison and the waitress chuckled before disappearing to pour them their drinks.     “What about Cindy?” Joseph whispered with a naughty smirk as he bent over the table to make sure his friend would hear him over the sound of the music.   “Damn, you’re horny, Jo!” Chris declared, slightly shocked that his friend would consider getting laid with the woman that had been serving them beers every Saturday night for the last two years. “Of course, I’m horny. I haven’t fucked in weeks guys.”   “Meaning months.” Forest corrected. “Besides, I think Cindy’s got a man.” Joseph cursed, disappointed. “All that is Irons’ fault. Do you know how many extra hours I did because of that bastard?”           “No” Chris and Forest said at the same time with an amused smile.       “Well me neither. But a lot, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you tired of bitching about Irons, Joseph?” Joseph’s olive face suddenly became very pale as he jumped on his chair. “Y/N! You scared the shit out of me. Thought it was Irons for a sec.” You frowned, not sure how to react to the comparison. “Really? I didn’t know I had a pervy man’s voice.”   “That’s not what I meant.” He mumbled and you chuckled finding certain amusement in his discomfort. “Oh Joseph, always so talented with women, I see.” The men around the table chuckled apart from Joseph who was as red as a tomato now. “Anyway, I was at Jill’s. She told me I could find you guys here.”   “You wanted to see us?” Speyer grinned and winked as he elbowed Chris’ ribs who immediately glared at him. “Jeez, discreet. Thanks.” He murmured and looked at you. Your brows were furrowed because of how strange the situation seemed to you. You had never seen Chris and Forest acting that way. “Are you guys drunk already?”         “If only.” Joseph sighed as he took a mouthful of his beer.           “Don’t mind them, Y/N. That’s just the way they behave outside of work. Lame I know.” You nodded despite being totally unconvinced. Now you understood why Jill was never willing to join their little merry band on Saturday nights. What better way to avoid toxic masculinity than staying home watching a good old movie, dressed in pj’s?          

“And there it goes away again. Y/N enters the room and bye-bye friendship.” You wondered if you should say something about this, genuinely curious to know what Speyer meant, but the second you opened your mouth to ask for an explanation you chose to revise your decision. “I wanted to say goodbye.”       The three pair of eyes widened at you in shock. “Goodbye?” Chris repeated, his incomprehension easily readable in his chocolate brown eyes. “My resignation letter was accepted. Got the news today.”         “Wait. What? What resignation letter?” The questions came as thick and fast as sub-machine gun bullets. You agreed that the news was more than unexpected but the way Chris sounded was more than surprising. It was a if he was distressed. And he was in a way. What do you mean you were leaving? You couldn’t leave. And especially not drop the news at the last minute.   “Yeah. I didn’t tell you guys about it because I wasn’t sure Irons would actually accept it but I’m quitting the S.T.A.R.S. and the RPD.”

There was a heavy silence that even the shitty music in the background couldn’t make less awkward. But that silence was necessary. The boys needed to digest the news. “May we ask why?” Despite not being a close friend, Joseph looked rather confused and even a bit sad. Clearly no one had seen the bomb coming. And who would have? After all, you were such a workaholic; always telling people how much you loved your job. This resignation, that didn’t sound like you.       “Long story. But let’s say I don’t think my place is with you anymore guys.” A lie but you thought it was better to avoid the truth, knowing that your three colleagues would certainly hit the roof – especially Chris - if they happened to learn the real reason behind your resignation. “So, I’m gonna take off now. Enjoy your night and don’t make Jill blow a fuse while I’m gone. And hands off Rebecca!” You pointed a menacing finger at Speyer who immediately laughed. “Can’t promise you that.”

You waved them goodbye with a faint smile and walked away towards the exit of the bar, saddened that this was possibly the last time you would ever see the Three Musketeers (as you liked to call them).         They watched you leave in silence, still not believing the unexpected news. “Can’t believe I’m actually gonna say this but … the office’s gonna look so empty without Y/N” Forest declared.         “Tell me about it.” Chris’ voice was suddenly weary and miserable. To him, you were the sunshine of the office, the star of the S.T.A.R.S, always illuminating people with your good mood and your joie de vivre. Hell, you were probably the only one who could laugh to his dad jokes without pretending.     “Then what are you waiting for then?” Speyer said to Chris. “Go after her.”     “I can’t.” Chris sighed. “And what for?” He took a long mouthful of beer that almost emptied the glass. Perhaps getting drunk would help him digest the fact that you were leaving.         “ So you’re just gonna let her leave without telling her how you feel? I thought you were more courageous than that.” Chris’ stein hit the table with a loud clink.       “And what would it change?” Chris almost shouted. “She’s leaving. She’s made her decision. Telling her how I feel won’t change it.”

And yet he chose to give it a try.

He rushed to his car to drive after you. He rapidly found you, walking up towards the main avenue near the police station certainly to catch a train to go back to your place near St Michael’s Clock Tower. “Y/N” He shouted and you frowned, astonished to see him here. “Chris? What are you doing?”             “ Let me drive you home.” Normally, you would have refused, being the kind of woman that liked to do things by herself. But there was something in the way Chris was looking at you that actually convinced you to get in his car.            

The ride back to your place was rather quiet, the only voice echoing in the Mustang being Freddy Mercury’s singing on the radio. “I always knew you were a Queen fan.” You said to lighten the mood. “Is it written on my forehead?”           “Just on your jacket, Made in Heaven.” You winked and smiled when Chris finally chuckled. “How’s gonna call me that when you’re gone?” Your grin faded away as you wondered almost the same thing. Who will you call ‘Made in Heaven’ after you’re gone? That was a nickname reserved for Chris, one you had found when you were having trouble memorising everyone’s names at the office and that had stayed because of how smiley Chris was each time you were calling him that. “I can ask Forest to call you that if you want. I’m sure he’d love to.”         Chris had a faint smile. “Certainly. But it won’t be the same.”     You could tell he was really affected by your departure and was struggling to say something. But even if you wanted to know what was going on in his head right now, curiosity eating you up, you decided to give him time. Surely was he just trying to gather the courage he needed to talk.

When you both arrived at your place, Chris was still silent and thoughtless. “Do you want to come in?” You thought that a drink might do him some good and help him. He accepted the offer and followed you towards your apartment.

The main room was messy and cluttered with a dozen of boxes already. Most of them were full of old books, VHS and CDs. “I see you’ve started packing.”         “Yes, sorry about the mess. I just want to leave as soon as possible. Beer?” Chris nodded and you disappeared in the kitchen, leaving him alone in your living room. “This doesn’t sound like you.” Chris finally said and you froze, your hand holding the fridge open. You briefly closed your eyes and sighed soundlessly. Of course, he had noticed. “What do you mean?” “Quitting. Leaving. This isn’t you.” You took a deep breath and joined him back in the living room where he was standing straight as a ramrod, a confused frown wrinkling his forehead. “The S.T.A.R.S is your life. You said it yourself. So enough with the ‘my place is not with you’ bullcrap.” He almost sounded angry but you knew all to well that you were not the target of his anger.     “It’s complicated.” You confessed as you handed him the bottle of beer.           “Y/N, I know I’m not the smartest man but I think I can understand the real reason why you want to resign if you just tell me. Aren’t we friends?”           “Of course.” You harrumphed; astonished that he might doubt that.     “Then tell me. Spit it out. What happened? Why are you leaving?”

You looked through the window, scanning at the small buildings surrounding your apartment before finally deciding to draw the thick curtain to hide yourself from whoever might be watching right now. Chris observed you wondering why you were doing this and tried to say something when he saw you heading towards your phone. You gestured him to stay quiet as you unplugged the device. “Alright. You’re starting to scare me. Can you tell me what’s going on?”         “Let’s say I’m in deep shit.” You waved Chris to sit on your couch next to you and he obeyed, staring at you with confusion and worry. “Weeks ago I started secretly investigating on Irons after the secretary he had employed last April weirdly disappeared.”                       “You did what?” Chris harrumphed. “Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous this is?” You nodded. “He found out.”           “Shit, Y/N” Chris cursed. He was furious. “I had no choice, Chris. Something weird's going on. I can feel it. And I’m sure something happened to his secretary as well.”           “She quitted! Daniels from the reception said he received a letter.” Chris replied.       “Then why is her stuff still at the RPD and why hasn’t her rent been paid since last month?” The man frowned, trying to find a coherent answer. But he found none. “I found her diary when I sneaked in her office. She wrote that Irons used to get off in his office watching a portrait of a hanged naked woman. And did you know that he was accused of rape back when he was in college? This son of a bitch …”         “Alright. Stop, Y/N!” Chris cut you off and took a deep breath to evacuate the panic that was rushing in his veins. “How much in trouble are you?”           You shrugged. “Enough to be the object of intense surveillance.”

Chris hid his face in his big hands. He was scared for you, genuinely terrified even. “What can I do to help?” He asked. “Tell me. I’ll do anything.”             “Chris.” You sighed. “Y/N” He grabbed your hand. “I care about you. More than you imagine. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You had a faint smile. How could a man be so adorable, compassionate and caring? “You’re an amazing man, Made in Heaven. You do know that?” Chris returned your smile. “But I can handle this on my own. Believe me. Just promise me to keep this a secret and act as if you didn’t know anything.             “You can’t ask me to do that, Y/N. You can’t…”

You cut him short by pressing your lips against his, which made Chris almost gasp in astonishment. But the surprise didn’t last and he soon responded to your kiss with an adorable tenderness. “Promise me, Chris.” You whispered still so close to his pink lips as you kept looking at him in the eye, waiting for his answer. “I promise.”       And he kissed you again. It was soft and sweet and tasted a bit like beer but you didn’t mind. In fact, you even allow yourself to touch his chest and bring your body closer to his. The hardness of his muscles against your palms made you shiver and Chris felt it. He smiled and he caught your lips again as he pressed his big hand on your lower back. You cupped his cheek to deepen the kiss and then everything suddenly became more passionate and burning.

Chris’s lips ventured towards your neck to leave a series of hot humid kisses and possibly hickeys that would certainly last a few days. But you would bother about that later. For now, you just wanted to melt under his touch. So, you instinctively tilted your head backwards to give him full access to your soft neck, moaning because of how delicious his mouth felt there.         Your little noise of pleasure instantly awakened something inside Chris, something he felt deep in his guts, deep in his pants. His kisses became hungrier and more needy. He wanted to hear you again.

He laid you down on your back and lay on top of you, his lips still devouring your neck and his now adventurous hands wandered towards your chest. His body felt slightly heavy but you loved this unusual exquisite proximity. “Chris.” You sighed as he suddenly groped your breasts through your shirt. When he tried to unbutton it you put yours hands on his to stop him. “What?” He asked “You don’t want this?”             “Sure I want this. More than anything. But I don’t want you to … I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll still leave tomorrow. You do realise that right?” He stared at you and you could read the sadness slowly growing back in his chocolate brown eyes.                   “It’s goodbye then” You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s goodbye.”     “Then let’s make the most of it.”

To your surprise, Chris’ face met your cleavage rather quickly and he began kissing it as he blindly yet clumsily unbuttoned your shirt. You watched him do for a small moment and when you noticed how aroused he was, you decided to free him from his clothes as well. You  took his letter jacket off and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to pull it off. And goodness, how dreamy he was. Those muscles. Those arms. Those shoulders. Those pectorals. Those abs … aaaah. It frustrated you as much as it aroused you. How could someone be that perfect? You bit your lower lip and dared caress him and as your hand slid against his warm skin, right between his abs down to the button of his jeans, following the dark hairy line below in navel. “Like what you’re seeing?” He snickered and you smiled, loving his sudden confidence. “Do you?” He grinned and let out a small laugh. “Of course. You’re beautiful” He complimented as he freed your boobs from your bra without taking it off only to take one of your nipples in his mouth. “Holy … ah.” You moaned uproariously as you let your head fall against the armrest of the couch.

You felt Chris smirk against your tender flesh. The bastard knew what he was doing and he was fucking proud of it. You could play that game too. You grabbed him by the belt, pulling him closer to your body for your pelvis to meet his. However, what you didn’t expect was for his prominent bulge to feel so hard and huge against you even through the fabric. Chris was certainly quite a big boy.     Slowly, you unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them all along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, confirming your previous hypothesis about it. It was indeed big, bigger than anything you ever had, and hard and long and… You slightly squeezed your thighs and rubbed them. You were wet. You could feel it. And you wanted desperately some friction.             You quickly glanced at your womanhood and let your fingers crawl under your skirt and soaked panties. Your clit was engorged and your lips were swollen. And Chris was watching you silently, wondering how the wet pink flesh felt. “Wait. Let me” He lifted up your ass and pulled down your panties to carelessly throw onto the floor. Your legs spread, he looked down between them, staring at your glistening fold with a dark hunger in his eyes. He caressed you softly, very softly and you moaned between your closed lips as you instinctively embraced his delicate touch by moving your hips closer to his hand. You wanted more. And he would give you more.     

His fingers parted your lips to meet your clit with his thumb and he brushed your warm entrance to finally insert a finger inside you. You whispered his name with pleasure and it jolted Chris as if he had received a punch in his lower stomach, but a delicious exhilarating punch. He started pumping his finger in your pussy, forcing a cry of pleasure out of your mouth, and soon he added another digit to go and tickle your g-spot that he found with incredible accuracy. When you started convulsing and felt your orgasm building in you, you pushed Chris’ fingers away to pull his body against yours.

Laid on you, Chris instinctively began to rubbing him against your, his cock grinding between your legs, so close to your entrance. You grabbed his back and dug your nails in it. The friction was sending you slowly back towards heaven. “Oh my god, Chris.”     His pace accelerated until it began relentless and soon, he started panting rather heavily. “Fuck.” He cursed as he quickly lined up his cock in front of your hole to enter your pussy, unable to resist the urge of filling you up anymore. He didn’t sink in you as easily as expected and so he grabbed the armrest of the couch to use it as leverage and push himself deep in you. That thrust made you draw a sharp breath and a whimper of both pain and pleasure escaped your sealed mouth. That girth, holy shit! “Damn, you’re so tight.”  He started moving in you. He was slow but intense but little did you know that he was just warming up. “Fuck, Chris!”

You screamed when his cock started rubbing against a zone inside of you you never thought existed. You clang to the sofa afraid to fall under the strength of his deep hard thrust. You were loud and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d ever been that loud. Your previous boyfriend would have asked you to be quiet and think about the neighbour but Chris, Chris seemed to like your screams. It was all over his smiling face.

He suddenly grabbed both your legs and placed your feet on his shoulders. A position that allowed his long shaft to go even deeper in you, which you never thought was possible. And judging by how red and twisted his young features looked right now, he was definitely enjoying the position. Actually, he loved it so much he quickened the pace and started growling. You marvelled at his sweaty strong body and at his face tensed by intense pleasure “Gosh, Y/N. You’re driving me crazy.” You smiled.

You could watch him fuck you like that for ages. It was a real boost for your self-confidence. And God knows what you were capable when you felt confident.             You spread your thighs and wrapped your legs around Chris to hoist yourself against his chest, his cock miraculously still inside of you. Guess having such a size had many perks. You wanted to ride him and he immediately got your intention. Hands squeezing your rear, he leant against the backrest of the couch and chuckled as you comfortably placed yourself on top of him and started undulating on his lap, his cock amazingly buried in you. “Gosh you have no idea how beautiful you are.” You blushed and he tucked a strand of your hair behind you ear. Your eyes met and you stared at each other quietly before you eventually felt the need to grind against him. The depth of his thick dick inside of you was sending shivers in your entire body. That was incredible. You kept a pace that pleased you both. “You’re so good.” He confessed as he took a deep breath. “Are you gonna come for me, Made in Heaven?” You teased.      “That’s very likely.” He chortled, amused by the nickname.         Your hands leant on his muscular thighs, right behind your back, and you began bouncing on his cock with an incredible agility and eagerness that left Chris amazed. And you could tell by the way he was panting that he wouldn’t last long. Not a surprise. This love-making was certainly the most exquisite you had ever had. His throbbing cock hitting you deep inside was amazing, just as the melody of sweaty skins meeting each other accompanied by the wet sound of your cunt and the creaking of the couch under both your weights.         

Chris placed his hands on your bouncing breasts to grope them. “If you keep going like that I’m gonna cum in you.” He declared between two groans. “Please do”. He made you lean forward and brought your breasts to his mouth to lick them and suck the nipples. “I want you to” You gripped his hair without even realising it. It was a reflex, a way to have him … feel him closer to you, to tell him not to stop. “I want your cum in me, Chris.”

That was too sexy and naughty for Chris who let out a frustrated animalistic growl as he squeezed you butt, digging his nails in the tender flesh. He began pounding you from underneath, hard, fast and deep like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your butt. You cried out. The sensation was divine and took all your words away. Now only plaintive onomatopoeias seemed to be able escape your agape mouth. Well, onomatopoeias and some very casual “Fuck, Chris” that would make your lover chuckle or smirk proudly.

And that’s how you felt it coming. That so well-deserved orgasm, ready to burst like a firework.  It made you cry out and nestle your head in Chris’s neck, your body convulsing like never before. But Chris wanted to see you. He wanted to see your face as you were cumming for him. He wanted to carve that moment to play it over and over after you were gone. And so he pulled up your hair to make you look at him. But you couldn’t. Your eyes were tightly closed and refused to open. And then, it all came out. And you screamed his name, on and on, loud, so loud you were sure the neighbours would probably shout at you tomorrow but you did not care. You let your juices flow along his cock and your wall clench around him.   “Damn. Fuuucck.” He growled and his moves became very sloppy yet more brutal and deeper. “Don’t you squeeze around me like that” But you couldn’t help it. That climax felt too good. Chris felt too good.

It sent him over the edge. He came hard in you, hot and sticky semen spurting in your vagina, painting your walls like nothing else. And you loved it, enjoying it the warm sensation with an amazed amused little laugh that made Chris chuckle despite his tiredness. “What’s so funny?” He asked.           “Nothing. Just telling myself that this... was made in heaven” You winked and he laughed. You were gonna miss him.

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Playing With Fire - Moving On

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93​, you rock! 

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC) 

Warnings: Language probably. 

Wordcount: 2065

MASTERLIST

The world was spinning when Beth woke up the next morning, so she decided it wasn't even worth it to open her eyes. That's until she remembered how the night had ended, and her eyes flew open. 

“Oh thank god,” she muttered when she learned she was alone in her bed. For a while she just lay there in silence, listening for any sounds in her apartment, when she was certain that she was alone she decided to get up. Groaning, she rolled out of bed and threw a blanket around her shoulders before she padded to the kitchen in need of water, Advil, and bacon.

She furrowed her brows at the little note on her table, her tired and puffy eyes having a hard time concentrating on the words. 

 Thanks for a fun night! Sorry to sneak out before dawn, but duty calls. I realized that I didn't get your number, so I'm gonna leave you with mine just in case you want a re-run. No pressure. 

- Jay   

Beth groaned as she balled up the paper. “Nice jobb, dumbass,” she scolded herself.

Thanks to the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, her nerves were fried, so when there was a knock on the door, she jumped. For a second she just stared at the door, very annoyed with the person on the other side of it. 

“Good morning, player,” Gabby greeted in a chipper tone, smiling from ear to ear. “You look like shit,” she added as she handed Beth a cup of coffee she had brought for her. 

“I look better than I feel then,” Beth mumbled as she took the styrofoam cup from her friend. She didn't even invite her in, just turned around and started making her way back to the kitchen. 

“You alone?” Gabby asked, tentatively looking around the small apartment. 

“Why?” Beth asked, snapping her head around so fast she thought she might throw up. Damn hangover. 

“You know Jay works with my brother right?” she deadpanned. “Plus, Otis and Hermann were still at the bar when you two left. So was Kelly - my roommate,” she summarized.

“Gossip spreads faster through a firehouse than it does through my family. I'm impressed,” Beth said with annoyance in her voice. 

“Tell me about it,” Gabby agreed. “Look… I had Matt drive me downtown to get your car-” she handed Beth the keys - “He's outside and we really have to get to work. I just wanted to get you your keys and check in.” 

“Thanks,” Beth said softly. “I'm good. A little embarrassed, and a lot hungover, but I'll live.” 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Gabby assured. “You are both consenting adults, nothing wrong with having a little fun.” 

“I know. Just thinking that getting over someone by getting under someone else might not be the best plan of action,” Beth said with a dry chuckle. 

“Fair point,” Gabby agreed. “Look, can we catch up later?” She was clearly stressed and in a rush to get to work, so the two said their goodbyes and then she was out the door. 

Beth threw back some Advil, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then went straight back to bed, hoping she would be able to sleep away the hangover before she had to be at work that afternoon. At least she knew that everyone at 51 would be working that night so she wouldn't have to run into any of them. And by any of them, she meant one in particular. 

***

A couple of days went by without Beth really socializing with anyone. She hid in her apartment as much as she could, still sort of embarrassed by the events of the other night. 

That night there was quite the crowd at Molly’s, so Beth was more than a little relieved when Gabby showed up to help out. It was crazy busy, but it didn't take long before Beth realized that something was up with her friend. Behind Gabby’s beautiful smile, there was a hint of sadness and at the first opportunity, Beth dragged her friend to the end of the bar so they could talk privately.

The past two days had been crazy. Mills and Brett, the two EMTs, had been kidnapped, but ultimately found in one piece. Chief Boden and his wife, Donna, had their baby, but little Baby Boden had some complications and was still being treated at the hospital. Kelly had broken things off with his wife and sent her back to Florida. It was a lot of information to get all at once, but they didn't have time to go into too much detail. 

“And today, this gorgeous blonde comes trotting into the station on ten inch heels, looking for Matt. I ask her what it was about and then she hands me his phone and announces that he had left it at her place when he left that morning,” Gabby explained, finishing up the tale of crazy that had been going on. 

“What?!” Beth exclaimed. “He cheated on you?” 

“No. Turns out it was Severide’s bimbo and Matt had just crashed on the couch,” she said. “I'm just.. I think I'm just starting to realize that we’re not gonna make it through this,” she concluded with a heavy sigh. 

“What are you going to do?” Beth asked, trying not to put too much thought into the whole Kelly part of the story. 

Gabby just shrugged, and before she could say anything else, Jay walked up and interrupted them. “I'm gonna go- uhm - be somewhere else,” Gabby said awkwardly before hurrying away. 

Beth had dreaded this moment since the other night. She wasn't really a one night stand kind of girl, so this situation was a little unfamiliar to her. “Hey,” she said a little awkwardly. Jay’s smile was very charming as he greeted her back. “Gabby just filled me in on what's been going on. Seems like you’ve had a few busy days,” she noted. 

The intelligence squad that Jay worked for had been the ones that helped find Brett and Mills. “Yeah,” he nodded. “But we got them back in one piece, and the bad guys are behind bars, which is all that matters.” 

“Good job, Detective,” she complimented. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“I'm actually on call,” he said simply. “I just came by to say hey. Maybe see if you have any plans tomorrow?” 

Fuck. “Look-” Beth started, not really knowing what to say. “I had a really great time the other night-” 

Jay cut her off. “But you’re not really looking for anything right now,” he finished without any accusation in his voice, still with that charming smile on his face. 

“It's just that I'm trying to get over someone and I don't think using you as a rebound is fair on either one of us,” she tried to explain. Jay was smart, kind, and funny, and under different circumstances she would be all over this. However, right now wasn't the time for them. 

“Lieutenant Severide?” he asked. Beth didn't answer him, but he definitely knew. “Alright then. We still good?” 

“I hope so,” Beth said. 

He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek before saying goodbye and heading back to work. 

***

The evening went by in a hurry and before they knew it, Gabby was shooing the last of the customers out the door, locking it behind them while Beth grabbed them each a beer so they could finish the talk they started on earlier. 

“I have to get out of Matt's house,” she suddenly said. “Two months ago, if that girl had shown up at the firehouse like she did today, my first thought would have been that there's a reasonable explanation here. Now, though, my first instinct was that he had cheated on me and I - I don't know. I'm just thinking that it's already over between us.” 

Beth didn't really know what to say, but she had seen how they had struggled for the past couple of months. “If you need a place to crash, my door is always open. And my couch is surprisingly comfortable,” she offered. 

“Thank you,” Gabby said with a half hearted smile. “Tonight?” 

“Absolutely,” Beth said, pulling her friend into a hug. “And for the record, I think that you and Matt will figure this all out. Maybe not right away, but I do believe in the two of you.” 

“You’re a good friend, Beth.” 

Both of them were more than ready to call it a night and go back to Beth’s for some much needed rest, but it turned out that the evening wasn't quite over for Beth yet. 

When they stepped out of Molly’s the first thing they saw was Kelly, leaning against his blue Mustang, waiting for her. 

“You have a minute?” he asked, looking at Beth as he pushed himself off of the car and taking a few steps closer to them. 

Beth fished her keys out of her pocket and handed them to Gabby. “I'll be right there,” she assured. 

“You sure?” Gabby questioned, looking between Beth and Kelly, but when Beth nodded her head, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

“What's that about?” Kelly asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Not my place to say,” she stated simply. “Why are you here?” It was a chilly night and Beth tugged her jacket tighter around her body to shield her from the cold wind. 

“I just wanted to apologize for the other night. It wasn't my place to say anything.” 

“Apology accepted. That all?” she asked coldly. 

Kelly didn't say anything, his mind busy searching for words he couldn't find. 

“Alright then. Good talk,” she said sarcastically as she took a few steps backwards before starting to turn away. 

“No. Wait,” he said, making her stop in her tracs. “You said that you hoped we could find a way to be friends down the line… Guess I just needed to know that I didn't fuck that up.” 

“You didn't,” she assured. “But we’re not there yet. At least I'm not.” 

“Anything I can do to help you get there?” he wondered, taking a few steps closer to her. He desperately missed her. Her smile. Her laugh. Her touch. He knew that he had ruined any chance of a relationship between them, but he couldn't stand the thought of losing her completely. 

“Space and time, just like I asked for. I told you that as long as you’re seeking answers at the bottom of a bottle-” 

“I promise you that I'm done with that,” he vowed, cutting her off. 

“So you weren't out with Matt - two days after your wife left- getting drunk and crawling into someone else's bed?” She wasn't angry at him, but the accusation and jealousy in her voice was clear as day. 

“That's different,” he defended. 

“I shouldn't have brought that up,” she said quietly. It had nothing to do with them really, and it wasn't like she hadn't done the same thing with Jay. 

“That's okay,” he assured. 

“Look,” she said with a deep sigh. “Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened between us, and what happened after.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“That I care about you,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes. “Probably more than I should. And I have no idea where to go from here.” 

Hope rose in him at her words, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Beth, I'm not the kind of guy that shows up in the middle of the night to make amends. I care about you too, a lot.” It was so great to finally get that off his chest, to finally admit to her how he felt. 

“Yeah. You showed me just how much when you went to Vegas and married the first girl you met,” she accused. 

Now he was confused again. “I made a mistake, Beth,” he pleaded. 

“I can't do this,” she said, slowly taking a few steps backwards. “I hope we can be friends one day, Kelly. I really do. But I can't do this dance with you right now.” She shook her head as she turned around and started on the short walk home, not stopping or looking back as he called out her name. 

Tags: @campingmonkey @deansgirl215 @thevelvetseries @graniairish 

[nitewrighter]

23 McSombra on the run with baby Annie

23. Exhausted parents kiss 

Oh man I sure love Brian K. Vaughan’s Saga but with More Cowboys the McSombra kid AU.

Remember Billie? I miss Billie.

---

McCree toweled off his hands as he turned away from the sink, scanning around for any glasses or plates that had been left behind. Billie was still wiping down the counter, and had seemed to hone in on a bit of caked-on cheese or some other stubborn thing, not looking at him. There was a faint buzz of desert insects in the night just outside the kitchen window. 

“...so...?” Jesse’s voice trailed off a little.

“She’s a beautiful little girl, Jesse,” Billie shrugged, still not looking at him, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“It’s not about what I want you to say, it’s just...” McCree rubbed the back of his neck, “You raised me, so I dunno... figured you’d... know some stuff.”

Billie just had a short scoffing chuckle. “Guess you and her are really up shit creek then?” she said, finally turning her head toward him, “Most parents at your stage are up to their necks in unwanted advice.”

“Well it’s---”

“Complicated. I gathered,” Billie finally flaked off whatever was stuck to the counter and turned around to lean against it. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jesse. The fact that your mysterious lady friend--”

“Sombra.”

“The fact that Sombra,” Billie said the name with the clear frustration at still only being permitted to know Sombra’s pseudonym, “Actually decided to go through with it says more about how she trusts you than anything I could say. And she’s definitely smarter than you.”

McCree’s brow furrowed but Billie just shrugged.

“And what do you want me to say? You’ve pushed me out of the loop so many times for ‘my own safety,’ but now you made someone in the loop. Someone who is going to have this loop around her for her whole life. And I’m just gonna say this shit takes a village. Maybe if you let me in sooner, I might know what to tell you. Hell, you could’ve let her pop the kid out here!”

“It worked out--” McCree floundered a little. 

“Going through childbirth in the back of a goddamn car is not ‘working out,’ Jesse,” said Billie, flatly.

McCree nearly said, ‘They don’t call it the mother road for nothing’ but that had prompted Sombra to cover their infant daughter’s ears in the car and cuss him out half-in-spanish for 30 minutes while clearly delirious from dehydration, so he refrained.

“It’s amazing she didn’t start bleeding out, or get an infection,” Billie muttered, “Do you know what you would have done, then? Does that kid even have shots?”

McCree’s ears burned but at the same time color was draining from his face.

“You two can’t do this alone,” Billie went on, “Now, you both can stay here as long as you need--”

“I can’t put that on you--” McCree started.

“I am getting pretty goddamn tired of both of your ‘need to do this alone’ bullshit. It’s not just about you two anymore. And both of you clamming up rather than reachin’ out for help...” she huffed, “You know why gerbils eat their babies?”

 “Jesus, Billie--”

“Because they get spooked. Fear is an animal instinct, and it makes you fucking stupid, and being a parent is one of the scariest goddamn situations anyone can ever be in. Are you going to let that fear put your kid at risk?”

McCree glanced off. 

“I see the way you look at her,” Billie’s voice dropped slightly, “The way you look at both of them, and... it hurts so much because... there is so much more I should have given you---”

“I wasn’t your kid,” McCree said with a shrug, “And you were about a decade and a half younger than I am now, so--”

“So let me say this: I was young, and stupid, but also scared, stubborn, and proud... like you are,” her mouth drew to a thin line, “You’re a good man, Jesse, but this is when the ‘Lone Ranger’ shit stops working. You need to go back--”

“Sombra only let me in on her... project... when I dropped ties with Overwatch,” said McCree, glancing off.

“Is the baby the project--?” Billie’s eyes crinkled in confusion.

“Annie’s not the project, there’s this--look, I can’t get you involved---”

“Oh son of a--” Billie huffed, her head lolling down with exasperation, and the conversation dropped to a mutually frustrated silence before Billie looked back up with a steadying breath, “Jesse, if you can’t, in good conscience, let me get involved, then maybe have the decent sense to get back in touch with the people who have the firepower to make you feel less shitty about asking for help.”

“...I’ll talk to Sombra about it,” said McCree.

“She’s as much of a gerbil as you are, right now,” said Billie with a slight raise of her eyebrows.

The back of McCree’s neck prickled with frustration, but he remembered the sight of Sombra drenched in sweat in the back of 2057 Ford Mustang, his forehead aching after Sombra’s foot slid off of the headrest of the front seat and smacked him during a push, afterbirth staining the upholstery, and Annie squalling in her arms. The short laugh that fell out of Sombra then as she made eye contact with him and the way she didn’t even blink at the name ‘Olivia’ falling out of him breathless. The love in that moment, the sheer terror. 

Billie patted him on the shoulder then and it snapped him out of the memory. She gave him a soft, affectionate look, one he could still recognize from his own childhood, a knowing, lopsided smile he saw in Sombra’s smirk, sometimes. He glanced down, pressing his own lips together tight, and she leaned against him. Mindlessly he wrapped his arms around her. He had grown taller than her at 17, but she still stood up under the slump of his weight and squeezed him. She pulled back from the embrace and looked up at him before patting his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, cowboy, I know you will.” She nodded her head toward the living room where there was a faint purple glow against the walls. McCree gave her a nod and stepped out of the embrace, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Sombra sat cross-legged on the futon. Her hair was still damp from a shower, piled up in a topknot and several purple screens surrounding her. She was in a button-up flannel shirt, long enough to technically be a minidress on her, half of the buttons undone from the top and Annie crooked in one arm at her breast as she scrolled through the screens with the other.

“Is that my flannel?” McCree leaned on the doorway.

“Maybe...” Sombra said coyly, waving her screens away. 

“...so how much of that did you hea--”

“I dozed off for most of it?” Sombra glanced down at Annie, “Then titty monster here woke up and I’ve been a little occupied since. I’m probably psychic, y’know. Woke up before she could start crying.”

“Probably,” McCree said, slumping onto the futon next to her.

“Y’know, if you stayed in touch, maybe not every conversation you have with Billie wouldn’t be her dropping heavy shit on you like, ‘Take over the agave farm when I die’ or ‘I’m not sure who the hell your biological dad is’ or stuff like that.”

McCree snorted and draped an arm over Sombra’s shoulders, looking down at Annie, “Yeah, maybe,” he said. A long pause passed between them. “...but... she was saying some stuff that makes sense.”

“Like...?” Sombra’s eyes flicked from Annie to him.

“Oh, y’know, ‘Takes a village’ kind of stuff,” he shrugged, “You didn’t hear the part about the gerbils, did you?”

“Why were you talking about gerbils?” Sombra snickered a little.

“Eh ‘Responsibility’ stuff,” McCree said with a shrug, “Y’know I had gerbils when I was a kid so she had to guilt me about that.”

“Ah of course,” said Sombra before glancing over at him, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Yeah...” McCree slumped back to a reclining position on the futon and Sombra gently lowered herself down next to him, still nursing Annie, both of them staring at the ceiling.

“You know we can’t keep this up,” McCree said quietly.

“Please tell me she didn’t tell you to go back to Gibraltar,” Sombra closed her eyes.

“Well--”

“I knew it,” said Sombra as Annie broke off from her breast with a grunt and a burp. 

“We have a better chance with them than you think,” McCree looked over at her, “And... Annie needs shots, Olivia--there’s a whole buncha shit she needs that they can give us that wont be where the Eye can track.”

Sombra glanced down at Annie who had had lolled off to sleep between her breasts. She trailed a finger along a curlicue of Annie’s fine, dark hair before drawing in a deep breath. “...we get the shots and we leave,” she said after a few seconds.

McCree kissed Sombra on the temple. “They’re gonna love her,” he said, smiling.

“Ay que mierda-- they’re going to know she exists,” Sombra’s voice was filled with dread.

“Which... is a thing that happens with people... eventually,” said McCree.

“Not with me,” said Sombra, side-eying him.

McCree snorted. “I know you,” he said quietly.

“Do you?” said Sombra.

“Better hope I do for our li’l nugget’s sake,” said McCree, gently brushing a hand over Annie’s head.

“...when I wake up, we’re going over a list of approved nicknames.”

“Oh come on, you can call her titty monster, but I can’t call her li’l nugget?”

“When she’s on your tits, you can call her li’l nugget,” said Sombra, nuzzling her head into the crook of McCree’s shoulder and closing her eyes.

“Well I’m taking li’l nugget so you don’t roll over and squish her,” said McCree, gently taking Annie up off of Sombra’s chest.

“Mm-hmm...” Sombra murmured sleepily.

McCree pushed up off of the futon with Annie in his arms. She curled into him, not even flinching at the cold of his prosthetic arm.

“I mean it y’know,” he said quietly, taking Annie over to the portable crib Billie had set up for them, “They are gonna love you.”

Annie only stirred slightly as McCree set her down into bed. “Takes a village,” he murmured before shuffling out of his own jeans and flopping onto the futon next to Sombra.

[cherry3point14]

One Helluva Car

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Minor car fetish, one paragraph of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut, a little jealous!Dean, this is crack babes’, I can’t stress this enough: car fetish Word Count: 3,500. Summary: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and then one day she sees Baby... A/N: @alexwinchester23​ hit me up a THOUSAND years ago with the prompt: dean x reader where she is more “in love” with deans car and it makes him a little jelly lol. And I was like, ha ha ha sure I’ll write it. It’s been half written ever since. So, I finished it. Someone please be proud of me for finishing. (Not like that you animals.)  This also fills Driving In The Impala for @spndeanbingo​

It’s Monday lunchtime when you see it. Her? It looks like a her. The best cars are ‘hers’ and even from a distance, she has curves that only a good woman could possess.

You’ve had a morning of shitty, old trucks that have been run hard for too long, and new cars that you plug into the computer to diagnose, which takes all the fun out of life. It’s easy to see a mile off that she isn’t shitty or bogged down with modern tech. She’s a well looked after classic. A thing of beauty. A freaking masterpiece. She’s polished enough that the sun bounces off of her black surface like she’s made of glass.

If only your arms weren’t laden with brown paper bags of food you’d take a detour to get a closer look. You could ghost your hand over her hood and take a look at the interior. You bet it’s the softest fucking leather your ass would ever hope to feel.

You’d generally drool over her without actually drooling because God knows spit is not good for the paintwork. Unfortunately, you do have bags filled with hot, meaty subs intended to feed your workforce. And you’re wise enough to know that making a garage of hungry mechanics wait for their lunch is not a good move. It’ll only result in some sort of unnecessary disaster this afternoon that you, their boss, will have to fix or pay for. Or both.

The only thing you can do is take one last look at her, memorize that beautiful shape while you heft the bags closer to your chest and carry on walking. It’s not like you��ve never seen a good old fashion American muscle car before, you have your own ‘70 Mustang at home.

It’s just… this is a Chevvy Impala, arguably the first car to flex its muscles. You don’t see one of those every day.

Your hobby is like a much cooler version of birdwatching. You have an appreciation for cars, classics in particular. The craftsmanship, the design, and the sounds they make as they tear through the world like moving time capsules. Nothing generated by a low emission engine compares.

That’s how you spot her for the second time, on Wednesday.

Well, you hear her first.

You’re closing up for the night. Everyone goes home early on Wednesdays, the shop closes at three, except for you. There’s always paperwork that needs to be done and you hate the idea of taking it home if you can help it. Taking a car home you’re always happy to do, but paperwork? You refuse to dirty your private space like that.

It’s just before six when you’re locking the doors and thunder screams in the distance. At least you think it’s thunder, you wonder where the clouds are until it moves too fast to be a weather condition.

The closer it gets the more the sound transforms into pure, uncut horsepower. It’s the deep rumble of an engine that demands to be heard. It tears your attention to it whether you like it or not. An announcement of the coming vehicle before it arrives.

Then she glides around the corner of Maple and Third before peeling down the street past you. It’s her again, she’s still in town. You know it’s the same car, she isn’t a vehicle made for stealth and your little ol’ town isn’t exactly heaving with beauties like her.

You know she’s not a local, it must be a flying visit, you’re lucky enough to have seen her again before she left. Not just seen her though, heard her. Heard her engine and the screech of her tires on the tarmac. Experiencing her in action is breathtaking enough that you gawp at her like an idiot as she zooms away.

It’s not a fetish or anything. You don’t exactly cuddle an exhaust pipe in bed. You appreciate cars more than your job requires you to, simple. It’s a respect that was drilled into you from a young age. Your dad owns a franchise of shops across the state and never had the boy he always wanted. He didn’t mope about it, he taught you to fix an engine instead. To appreciate every individual piece like an unsolved puzzle. And because your dad is a big ol’ softie he taught you that classic cars can’t be beaten, he favors Camaros in particular. He gave you a garage to work in until you’d labored enough to earn it for keeps and manage it as your own. Your dad raised you to bleed motor oil and sweat gasoline.

Cars are your life. Ok, maybe you’re a bit of a gearhead is all. You can’t help it if that Impala is a fine wine you want to uncork.

You watch the street lights make a hazy path for her to follow, another corner and she’s gone.

At home, you curl up on your sofa and scroll through your usual sites to see how much your own Impala would cost. In good condition, you’d have to sell one of the two cars you already have but there’s this smashed up ‘68 in New Jersey that might be worth the drive for the price. It would basically be a new car by the time you rebuild it but that doesn’t matter. All you needed were the bones of the thing and you never shy away from a project that involves weeks of hunting down original parts, that’s half the fun. For tonight at least it gets bookmarked. The decision left for another day, if it still seems like a good idea in the morning then you’ll make the call.

Hell, maybe tomorrow you’ll see something else and forget all about her. Maybe.

Good looking guys come through town from time to time but Dean is a rare treat. He’s the picture next to ‘handsome’ in the dictionary. He’s got these full lips that you’ve stared at, without an ounce of shame, while he sucks on a beer bottle. A jawline covered in scruff that you’ve already imagined between your thighs. And then there are those hands of his. It could be your line of work but you always loved a man with hands like his. Broad hands and thick fingers. Mechanic hands you’d call them, you half wish they were covered in oil and grease.

He was tapping away on the bar for a while, drumming aimlessly while you drank, but now he’s toppled in your direction. He’s standing between his barstool and yours, while you're still seated, which makes you the perfect height for him to slip an arm around you. His thumb has settled in on tracing the edge of your jeans while he talks to you, tickling your back where your tank had ridden up.

Honestly? He doesn’t even need to be a good lay to be worth the trip to bed.

“I know you said you’re in town with your brother…”

He winces at the start of your sentence, “with the things I’m thinking about doing to you honey, you can’t go mentioning Sammy at the same time.”

Underneath the stained overalls, you’re still a woman and you’re not sure if there’s anyone alive who could resist Dean’s charms. When you laugh at his ridiculous propositioning, you don’t even try to fight when it tails off into a giggle.

“I was going to ask if you had your own room? Or are we going back to my place?”

You’d almost think he’d been playing it cool up until this point. Everything had been measured and smooth. But you ask him that and he finally cracks, urgency slips through that charm offensive. He tilts his head forward as his face hardens into something intense, eyes hooded under the light of the bar. His hand slides up underneath your top enough that his whole palm skates against your skin. “How about a compromise? My car, your place?”

You lean in until you’re almost touching his lips, your tongue peeks out to wet them and flicks against his, taunting. “Deal."

He doesn’t need to know that you walked here and needed a ride home anyway. That's irrelevant.

Stumbling out of the bar is messy. Not because of the alcohol, neither of you have drunk that much, it’s his hands on your waist. They’re possessive and so there.

Maybe he’s not so bad in bed. Maybe he’s actually, pretty good in…

Oh fuck. It’s her.

You’re stopped in your tracks by the sight of your very own white whale. Well, black and shiny Impala but the metaphor stands.

You stop and Dean bumps into you, not expecting it so soon. For a brief moment, you’re frozen in awe, reverence. Even in the dark, she’s perfect. Street lights bouncing off of her smooth exterior. The night is chilly and there’s a hint of condensation creeping around the edges of the windshield which only serves to make her sparkle.

“Wow, she’s-”

“Mine?” Dean finishes, a wry grin on his face and keys dangling from those fingers you’d been drooling over moments ago. Fuck him and his fingers now.

“Shit, Dean. I’ve been seeing this car all week. She’s beautiful.” You walk towards her, carefully, in case you spook her. She’s an old soul, probably jumpy. Your hand reaches out but doesn’t touch her yet because you’re being respectful.

You’d have thought Dean might have appreciated your care. Instead, he laughs and it catches you off guard. You whip your head back around to glare at him and he encourages you, “she won't bite.”

When you finally make contact she’s cool and glossy under your touch, but even so, you don’t run your hand over her like you want to. You can feel the waxed surface that you don’t want to ruin. You know how much effort goes into a good wax job like this. Instead, you trade your whole hand for your fingertips and trace her edges as if trying to remember her shape for when you rebuild your own.

“Ahem.” In the distance, Dean clears his throat. Sucks for him. You’ve got a new love interest.

“Sweetheart?” He asks again, stepping up closer to you as if you didn’t hear him. He sounds needy like he wants you, but it’s edged with this vulnerable envy. You already noticed his bright green eyes in the bar, now you're wondering if there’s a different green-eyed monster at play.

He needs to understand, you saw the car first. She’s held your heart all week, Dean piqued the interest of your lady parts about half an hour ago. You might say age before beauty but this Impala has Dean beat on both fronts, older and more beautiful.

“Where’d you get these rims, if I didn’t know better I’d almost say they’re original,” you spare him a glance over your shoulder. “But I do know better.”

He looks like he’s struggling with not having your full attention, you’d almost say he’s pouting. Then he sticks out his bottom lip and he's definitely pouting. He shuffles from foot to foot and steels his jaw. It makes it even more difficult for him then when you ask questions that he wants to answer. You can see the cogs turning where he’s trying to work out if he should encourage your interest or not. As much as he wants sex, in the end, the gearhead wins out.

“Fixed her up a lot over the years, found those in a junkyard if you believe it.” He steps up next to you now with a proud smile.

“I can believe it. I’ve seen the stuff people throw away. They’re perfect. Can I?” You slide out your phone and wave it at him.

He nods, although a little dumbstruck.

You bend down and snap a picture, explaining. “I was looking at a sixty-eight to rebuild, maybe. Actually, yours gave me the idea, saw her and couldn’t get her out of my head. I have a friend who might be able to help me out with these.”

“You wanna build one?” He sounds interested but not enough to get him off track. The track being you.

“Yeah. I told you I’m a mechanic. Building these things is in my blood.”

The air is cool and you start to feel it, not having intended being outside this long. He sees you shiver and steps behind you running his hands up and down your arms. “Sixty-eight ain’t a sixty-seven though, is it?” He asks, voice dripping with cocky arrogance about his car.

Oh, fuck. He’s figured out the way to your heart. He’s got you all turned around and leaning against her. Back pressed against her metal and glass enough that you’ll be feeling her for weeks.

“No, it’s not…”

“Wanna ride my Baby?” Dean presses his lips to the corner of your mouth with the question, leaving enough space for you to let out an almost inaudible gasp.

You’d be inclined to say men name their cars the dumbest shit sometimes but ‘Baby’ fits somehow. It’s perfect. She’s Baby.

“Yeah,” you nod. Right now, it's all you’ve ever wanted.

He walks you to the passenger’s side door and opens it’s for you. It’s not even romantic, it’s a fucking turn on.

Maybe you do have a car fetish. You should probably figure that out, like, another day.

In the time it takes Dean to strut to the other side you have sunk into the leather and just as you imagined, it’s soft. Worn and loved, like everything else about this beauty. This is what’s makes her special and that’s why you would have to love your own extra hard. To make up the years of neglect.

“Ready to go?”

He’s looking at you, smirking in your peripheral, and you’re looking at his fingers on the keys. You know what’s going to happen when he turns them. You’re still not prepared.

“Let’s do it.” A grin slides onto your face.

She rumbles to life beneath you. The vibrations from her engine shudder through the seat straight to your core. From there you swear the horsepower zips to every nerve ending in your body like electricity powering a city. And the sound could strike you down. She somehow purrs and roars at the same time. Each rev is a scream but her engine sings between each turn.

“Two eighty-three?” You ask, bottom lip caught behind your teeth.

“Get out of here with that two eighty-three crap. She’s a three twenty-seven.” He snaps, but not really, pressing his foot on the gas again just to see you quiver. Another rotation of the engine, her power, rolls through you.

He pulls out onto the road, leaving the dive behind, and drifts a little as he does, the back of her floating into the road. You slide over the seat an inch and he’s half focused on you, half focused on driving, so you're not even sure if he planned it. You scoot closer to him and he weighs his arm, the one not currently steering, around your shoulders. You’re becoming increasingly aware that the car smells like him, or he smells like her. Leather, sweet and spicy, musky. It’s a complicated mix where you’re not sure whether it's more her or him. You want to wrap yourself up in it all the same but Baby can’t wrap you up, Dean can.

“Dean I… Next left… I really, really love this car.”

He licks his lips as he looks down at you, his pupils wide, probably has a clear view of your chest, “yeah? How much, sweetheart?”

“A lot.” You pant in his ear, teeth grazing his lobe. “Second right, then it’s the third house on the left.”

A growl comes out of him. Determined. And you’re not so sure you care about fucking Dean anymore but each time you work him up a little higher, he revs that gorgeous engine and you get to feel that thunder. It’s the best circle jerk you could imagine, everyone is truly happy.

He pulls up in front of your house in record time because Baby is gunning 285 horsepower, so she’s not exactly going to be beat.

The problem, that you hadn’t really planned on, is arriving at your destination. As soon as he cuts the engine you puncture. Missing the everything about her straight away and wishing you’d kept driving for hours. Still, you have the scent of leather everywhere, burdening your senses with the smell of a bygone era. You hike a leg over Dean and sit in his lap. A knee either side of his thighs, denting her seats and Baby’s steering wheel holding the curve of your ass. Your hands skip Deans’ shoulders in favor of the seat behind him, the cushioned bench under the pads of your fingers, as you attach your mouth to his. Sandwiched between Baby and Dean, and you never want to leave the spot.

Your tongue curls into his mouth at the same time that he presses his fingers into your hips so tight you’re sure there’ll be bruises. You’ve never worried about a tight grip on you before but he starts pulling you towards him and away from where you’re wedged on Baby. The more you lean your body into Dean, the less you feel his car.

“Baby.” You murmur into him. Dean must mistake it to be a pet name you’re borrowing, calling him, because he pulls you again. Actually you’re telling him where you want to be, to stay.

Here. With Baby.

“This is a nice neighborhood.” He hums in this tone that’s deep but it doesn’t go through you like the sound of a turbo V-8. “We should take this inside.”

He’s right. Carl from the damn neighborhood watch is probably already doing just that, watching. The pervert.

“Right, sure.” You agree despite the way your stomach drops at the thought of leaving her.

You’re all untangling limbs getting out and he kisses you once more against Baby before you allow him to drag you away. It already feels different, normal, boring.

Dean’s fine, he’s good, he’s handy. Like you’d thought he would be.

You wrap your mouth around his dick because you’ve always liked looking up through your lashes and seeing the way a guy goes breathless on your tongue. He works you open on his thick fucking fingers until the pressure in your stomach snaps with his thumb circling your clit. He pushes into you and the stretch, the burn, is perfect. Dean is better in bed than you’d expected him to be.

And yet, it’s empty. Dulled. It doesn’t scratch the itch like good sex used to. The whole experience dampened compared to what you’d felt sitting in the front seat of his 1967 Chevy Impala.

You slip on some oversized shirt from your floordrobe to walk him out when he leaves. Neither of you under any impression that he’s staying the night. He’s got this satisfied grin on his face that he hasn’t been able to wipe off since the first time he came. He stops at your doorstep, “thanks, sweetheart. This was fun.”

“Sure was,” you agree, not giving him the full story. Standing at your doorway you’re looking at Baby instead of Dean, again. “Let me know if you’re still in town tomorrow, I’d love to go for another ride.”

He nods and backs away a few steps until he’s in your line of sight along with his car, “will do, baby.”

He must think you mean sex. You wouldn't be opposed to it but you mean a drive. A real drive with wide roads, and opening the taps. You can break that to him tomorrow if he does give you that call. If he doesn't then there's only one thing you need to say before he leaves. One thing you can't let her leave without saying.

“One helluva car you got there, Dean.”

Second A/N: Look, this didn’t start out as a full on car fetish but I was writing it and SOMETIMES I HAVE NO CONTROL. Sometimes these characters they say, “fuck you!” and do what they want. I was going to write a nice little jealousy thing. Dean wants some attention. That’s all. You only have yourselves to blame readers!

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18 @erins-culinary-service

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Love; Lost

John Wick x reader (A/n- flashbacks indicated with italics.) (A/n2- I have ideas for this to be turned into a thing, maybe a couple other parts, but I’m not really sure about it yet. Maybe. We’ll see.)

Warnings- Angst.

Sniffling, Y/n straightened her back, swiping at her eyes. In the foyer, the last of her packed bags awaited her. She couldn’t believe it; it was really over. The past five years reduced to nothing, they were parting ways, and neither of them could believe it.

“You don’t have to go,” John managed, sounding defeated, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. Maybe it was because he knew that they weren’t true; he and Y/n were from vastly different worlds. Being a killer, a hunter was all he knew, it was in his nature. But Y/n, she wasn’t like that, she was a free spirt, the woman who wanted to travel the world without death and danger looming at every corner.

John had stifled her, that’s what he had done At least, that’s what she had told him. He had spent so long trying to protect her, shielding her from the worst parts of his life that he had forgotten to love her. Or let her love him. 

“Yes I do,” Y/n nodded stiffly, fighting emotion, not wanting to break down again. If she did, he might hold her, and if he held her, Y/n wouldn’t leave. It had already taken every bit of will she had to pack up her stuff. John wasn’t even supposed to be back until after she had left, but he had gotten in early, all in an attempt to surprise her. 

1 Hour Earlier  Most of it was in her car already, though, the last of her bags had yet to be taken out. On the center of the made California king was the handwritten note she was going to leave him. It wasn’t the way to bring an end to such a long, committed relationship, but Y/n didn’t think there was any other way she’d go through with it. One look at John while trying to tell him that she couldn’t stay might have her changing her mind. Y/n didn’t want to leave, but she knew she had to. 

Things had been changing between them, and for a while, Y/n had been feeling more like John’s charge than his girlfriend. Lately, he had been treating Y/n more like a damsel in need of protecting, and while before, she didn’t mind, she could no longer find the love in his gestures. She didn’t want to be an obligation, or the girl he worried about while they were apart, Y/n wanted to be an equal in their relationship. 

They had been drifting for a while by then; John was gone more often than not, and even when he was there, he was so focused on keeping her safe, reminding her of what they couldn’t do, that being with him felt like being with a bodyguard. No parks because there were too many unchecked spaces, no double dates with her friends because he didn’t want to put them in danger and no meeting his friends because they were too dangerous. 

There was so much between them; secrets, sometimes continents and always a barrier that kept John from truly letting her in. He and Y/n had lived together for the  past three years, and still, she had barely any clue of how entrenched he was in the criminal underworld. Sure, she knew that he was an assassin, and that he’d worked for a Russian mob in the past, but that was about it. He’d leave and never tell her where he was going, only to come back weeks later bruised and broody. 

The more and more Y/n thought about it, the more her mind insisted that it was time to leave. She’d always love John, with everything she had in her, but she wasn’t willing to be with someone who couldn’t be as open as she was. Their relationship felt one sided, broken somehow.

As she packed up the last of her things, Y/n gave the bedroom one final glace, saddened at how it now looked; half of it’s personality gone. Her things no longer sat comfortably next to his; none of her clothes mixing with John’s in the hamper, her beauty products no longer lingered next to his after shave in the bathroom and her nightstand was bare, save for a lamp that matched the one on John’s. Pictures were still littered around the room though, in frames on the surfaces and hanging on the walls, just like they were around the rest of the house. Y/n loved pictures; the best memories saved for eternity, it was why she had become a photographer. It was how she had met John. 

Looking at the little moments saved in time stung her heart and tears prickled at her eyes, prompting her to gather her bags and leave the room, though, her plans were interrupted, the note on the bed made mute.

“You’re leaving?” John asked, his brows knitted with confusion, his tired features further pulled by hurt.

“I.......” Y/n licked her lips nervously, her heart thumping anxiously against her chest. She hadn’t accounted for the possibility of having to face him; she didn’t want confrontation, or to see the look of hurt on his face, or being given the opportunity to stay. “I am,” looking away, Y/n tried to contain her emotions, how could doing what was best feel like a knife to the gut? 

Watching her stand at the door, their door, was starting to become too much for John. Y/n couldn’t leave; didn’t she know that she was everything to him? The glue holding his sanity together, the only person he’d ever felt real love from, the only person he had ever loved. And now she was leaving. Because of him. Because he had failed her.

“You don’t love me,” Y/n breathed, eyes shining with tears, that otherwise, he’d have wiped away, “At least, it doesn’t feel like it.”

“No, Y/n,” John’s voice caught somewhere in his throat. All he wanted was for things to be fixed, for everything to be okay, “I love you, I’ve always loved you,” since the day they had met probably.

“Yeah?” Y/n chuckled humorlessly, “It doesn’t feel like that,” sighing heavily, she sniffled, “It feels like you’re suffocating me sometimes, I can barely leave this house without you worrying, we never go out anymore, you don’t even call when you leave. How’s that love?”

John shook his head slowly. He hadn’t meant to have Y/n think that he didn’t love her, he just thought that these things were best for her. Then again, maybe it wasn’t his place to decide that. “I only wanted to protect you, because I love you. I love you,” he repeated, a new firmness in the words, “And if something happened to you......if I couldn’t keep you safe....”

“I didn’t need your protection!” Her voice rose without warning, making them both jump; the sight was alarming; seeing the Boogeyman's shoulders shake in surprise, “I never needed....” It was a fight to contain a nearly escaped sob, and when Y/n cast her head down, she had to squeeze her eyes shut, “I never needed you to protect me, I just needed you to love me,” Y/n voice broke, and John felt his heart break even more, “And let me love you back.”

The whole thing kept going on, over and over, in John’s head, like a broken record meant to shatter his glass heart. “Please,” taking a step towards Y/n, John felt like his soul was being ripped apart when she evaded his touch. “Please just stay, I’ll be better,” he bargained, knowing that he’d change everything about his life if it would mean that he could spend the rest of it with her, “You want me to leave? I’ll get out, leave that behind. You want space, freedom? Then I’ll give it to you. We’ll go somewhere where no one knows us, and we’ll be safe, you can open a gallery, like you always wanted to, and I’ll find work, and we can-”

“No,” Y/n determined firmly, tears now running down her cheeks freely. She had never seen John like that; so frazzled, grasping for straws, eyes wide with worry and so desperate. That wasn’t the John she knew, no, her John was confident and calculated, a man who didn’t say much and who never let his fears interrupt his hardened exterior. Seeing him like that all but literally killed Y/n. There he was, begging her to stay, willing to give up the life he’d known for almost twenty years for the woman he loved. And still, she couldn’t accept it. “It’s too late John, I’m so sorry,” she met his eyes one last time, his own pain matching her, “But I have to go.”

Exhaling quietly, his shoulders slumped, and John glanced at a picture in a little silver frame, sitting on a long table against the wall, it was surrounded by several others, along with other little trinkets, but somehow, that one stuck out.....

2 Years Ago “What are you doing?” John laughed, still trying to fit the last of their things into the trunk of his Mustang. He was beginning to think that they were leaving the little rented cabin in upstate New York with more than they had taken with them; he simply couldn’t make everything fit.

From the side, definitely not helping the situation, Y/n giggled, professional camera still held up to her face as she continued snapping pictures that he could only hope she would delete on the drive back; she couldn’t have gotten any good ones. The humid summer air was making some of John’s hair stick to his face and neck and he highly doubted that his frustrated expression was even remotely photogenic. “I’m taking pictures,” she laughed, explaining as if it were completely obvious, “You’re like; a fucking male model,” Y/n teased.

“Yeah, whatever,” John tried to sound annoyed, but couldn’t help but smile. “You know that’s not helping, right? I mean, these are your bags, and you’re just standing there, taking pictures,” he teased. With an exasperated sigh, John stopped for a minute, straightening up and looking at Y/n, amusement still twinkling in his eyes, though years of practice giving him an opportunity to hide it everywhere else. “Y/n,” her warmed, only semi-sternly, “I’m serious, this stuff isn’t gonna fit, and I look like shit.”

Rolling her eyes and lowering the camera, Y/n still smiled, slowly approaching him, “Relax,” she eased, removing the thick fabric strap from around her neck, resting the device on top of a bag in the open trunk, “We’ll just stuff the rest of it in the back seat. Also,” she chortled, wrapping her delicate arms around his neck, leaning into John’s strong chest, “You look pretty sexy all sweaty and annoyed like that,” standing on the tips of her toes, Y/n pressed a kiss to John’s lips. Readily, he reciprocated, his arms snaking around her, his fingers slipping under the hem of her loose t-shirt; calloused fingers sending electricity up her spine. 

“I love you,” John mumbled against Y/n’s lips. He was typically very guarded with the words, though Y/n didn’t need to hear it often to remember how he felt; it was in everything else, his touch, the habit he’d made of waking up extra early when she slept over, just to make her coffee and how he’d press his forehead to hers after a lingering kiss. John was a man of action, and when he was with Y/n, his actions were always enough to remind her that there wasn’t a man that could love her more than John Wick. 

Smiling tenderly, Y/n’s fingers toyed with the ends of John’s dark locks, “I love you too.” Turning, he leaned on the back of the car, nearly as tall as the open trunk, and Y/n was sunken into his front. For a while, they exchanged long, sweet kisses, each one filled with more love than they last. “They said that we need to clear out by noon,” Y/n reminded John, pulling away reluctantly.

Groaning, John let his hands skim her back one last time before letting Y/n go, “I remember.” Slowly, they finished up the packing, and when the last of it was in the car, John closed down the back, “Ready?”

For a moment, Y/n thought on his question, before her eyes widened with realization, “No!” She frowned, “We haven’t taken any pictures.”

“If I remember correctly,” John teased, strolling towards her, his large hands landing on her hips, “You took quite a few earlier.”

“No,” Y/n sighed, “I mean we haven’t taken any together, and it’s so beautiful out here.”

“Well, we were pretty busy,” John kissed the side of Y/n’s head and she caught his bicep as he tickled her sides. The memories of the week gone by were still fresh in both their minds; they had planned so much, a picnic near the lake, a day spent in the small town and a hike on a secluded nature trail, though it had all gone out the window the minute they unlocked the cabin doors and the only exploring Y/n and John did was of each other. 

When they settled, Y/n gently pushed away from John, “Well, we have to take at least one, please?” She offered him her best puppy eyes, knowing full and well that John always had a hard time saying to ‘no’ to her. Throw in big doe eyes and he was definitely a goner. 

“Fine, but with your phone, we already packed up your camera,” John ducked into the passenger seat, getting out Y/n’s large tote bag, handing it over.

Scoffing playfully, she hastily took the bag, “I will do no such thing! We’ll use this,” and from her bag, she produced polaroid camera. John knew it well; it had been his gift to her on their first anniversary and Y/n had grown quite attached to it. Though, he didn’t have the slightest clue that she’d brought it along on their little getaway. Quickly, she set it up on the roof of his car, setting the timer, giving them a couple minute to get organized. 

They stood a few feet in front of it, John hugging Y/n from behind, her hands grasping his arms. The flash was just a couple seconds from going off, when at the very last minute, John lifted her off the ground, planting his lips on Y/n’s neck. Throwing her head back, Y/n laughed wildly, her eyes screwed shut with sheer joy. 

When John set her down, Y/n playfully swatted at his shoulder, “That picture is probably ruined,” she pouted. Though, by the time she was at the camera, the picture had already cleared up and was drying; and as it turned out, it was one of the best pictures they’d ever take together.

“Okay,” John swallowed tightly. He wanted, more than anything, to work things out with Y/n. She was the love of his life, his dawn at the end after the darkest night, his harbor in the storm. And he wanted so badly, to be that for her too. In fact, up until the moment he got home to her car parked in the driveway and the last of Y/n’s packed bags in the hallway, John had thought he was that. But John loved her more than he wanted to be her knight in shining armor, he always would, so if loving Y/n meant that he’d have to accept that he wasn’t what she wanted, what was best for her, then he’d painfully learn to accept it, even if it felt like it would be the death of him. 

With tear stained cheeks and red eyes, Y/n nodded, “Okay,” Picking up the last of her things, she turned the knob of the door and John swore that it felt like a dagger was turning in his chest. No longer able to contain her quiet sobs, Y/n managed, “Goodbye John.”

He tried to say it back, John really, really tried, but the words wouldn’t come. And dragging himself behind her, moving to lean on the door frame was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He watched her go, wishing that he could just reach out and take Y/n into his arms, promise to never, ever make the same mistakes again, but he couldn’t. So, feeling the hole in his heart grow with each step she took, John tried to offer up the next best thing, three little words that he hardly ever said, but a fact that he needed her to remember, even if it wouldn’t change a thing, “I love you Y/n.” Quiet tears fell from his eyes and John ran hand though his hair, trying to slow his breaths.

Stopping in her tracks, Y/n turned back to John, offering him one last, broken look, “I love you too John.” After a couple seconds, Y/n turned away, walking towards the car, tossing the bags into the back seat. Even as Y/n got into the car, turning the key in the ignition, sobs racked her frame and every cell in her body screamed that she was making the biggest mistake of her life, that she should go back and mend things with John. But at that point, Y/n dismissed the matter as her heart trying to overrule her mind, and for once, Y/n didn’t listen to it as she pulled the door closed and backed out of the drive way, putting her life with John in the rearview. 

John watched Y/n’s car disappear with distance, his world crumbling. Just like that, it was over, they were over. It took a while, but eventually, John was blindly making his way to what used to be their shared bedroom, only making it there by way of muscle memory. When he closed the door behind him, it didn’t take much to notice just how excruciatingly empty the room felt, how much of a hollowed shell it seemed. Sure, some mocking pictures remained, but suddenly, it was like John didn’t know the people in them and just a simple glance their way was like a punch in the gut. 

Sinking onto the bed, John thought it felt colder that it ever had; a lot changed when you grew accustomed to the warmth brought on by someone you loved. And when that warmth was gone, as John was quickly realizing, the feeling easily paled the coldest winter nights. Swallowing tightly, he finally picked up the handwritten note that Y/n had left between their pillows, though, he couldn’t yet bring himself to read it. So instead, he just stared at her cursive on the stark white paper, his thumb tracing it, lingering over the botches where her tears had presumably fallen as she wrote. 

John wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, the river from his eyes probably wearing tracks into his face, but at some point, the room dimmed significantly and he could no longer take the burning in his left pocket. Transferring the still unread letter to his right hand, John dung through his pants, eventually getting out a little, black, velvet box. It was why he had returned early, why he had called ahead to reserve a private room at her favorite restaurant. It was supposed to be the surprise that would change their lives, but there on the bed they once shared, in the house that might never feel like a home again, the glamourous diamond ring wedged comfortably between two dark cushions could only mock him; remind John that despite his best efforts to keep Y/n, he had lost her.

The glitter of the rock reflected in the low light, and feeling like there was no more love left to his name, John flipped the box closed, shutting his eyes as he laid back onto the bed, holding Y/n’s note to his chest, praying to a god that he barely believed in, begging that the last few hours would turn out a dream. Though, if it wasn’t, John hoped that he’d never wake up. 

********

tagging- @harrisongslimited​

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 35

Chapter 35

A little bit of rest and relaxation for our favorite heroes, and some family bonding time fluff. 

Also- Mustang gets a little ribbing from Hughes and acknowledges that yeah, he’s a dad.

Roy ended up lacking the motivation to carry Ed up the stairs to his room. Or to make himself climb the stairs to get to his own bedroom. He ended up depositing Ed on the couch and flopping into his favorite recliner.

Alphonse had gotten a ride to the hospital at some point, and he puttered into the house behind them, with a bag full of prescriptions for both the other residents of the home.

Al seated himself calmly on the floor and started reading an issue of Cosmo as the Roy and Ed slept.

It was sunlight streaming through the window, the smell of coffee, and voices that woke him in the morning.

Roy blinked harshly, getting to his feet and checking the time. It was almost noon.

He'd thought he was doing good- but as he walked, he realized there was a jackhammer drilling behind his eyes and his headache came back as he became more awake.

Still, he trooped into the kitchen, intent on tracking down some of the coffee he'd been smelling.

He found Hawkeye sitting at his kitchen table, speaking quietly to Alphonse.

"Good morning Colonel!" Al said happily.

"Morning, Alphonse." Gosh, he felt like absolute garbage. Still, if He slammed some coffee and painkillers, he could probably get in a good half day at work, if the Lieutenant was kind enough to drive him. There was no way he'd be able to drive himself in his current dizzy state.

"Lieutenant- mind giving me a ride to work?"

Riza sipped from her mug of coffee, shaking her head. "No need. You've been given the day off. Edward, too."

"By who?"

"General Haruko himself, sir. He and the brass have enough to deal with, he wanted to congratulate you on catching Banks." her gaze flickered to Alphonse for a moment, and Roy knew he wasn't getting the whole story. Still, he knew that Riza must have a reason for keeping the truth from him, and he nodded, grabbing some bread from the breadbox and making himself some plain toast, pressing his palm to his pounding head.

"Take two of these, sir. Alphonse will give you more in an hour." Riza offered him something from a prescription bottle, and he downed both pills dry before nodding, grabbing his toast.

"What about Ed?" Roy asked, thinking of the boy still passed out on the couch. "Has he got anything he has to take?".

"I woke him and gave him his medication about an hour ago. My lunch is almost over, though, I have to get back to the office. One of the men from the office will bring by dinner, Alphonse will call and tell us what you want..."

Riza Hawkeye was, in fact, an angel in human form.

Ed was still out cold on the couch, and Roy took the opportunity to toss a blanket over him before sinking back into the recliner. He briefly considered reading the paper before electing not to, deciding today would be better spent being lazy. He hardly ever got days off like this- and neither did Ed. Might as well waste it sleeping while he could.

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"Yeah- four cheese pizzas, with like, a bunch of shit on them. I don't even care, as long as those little fish aren't on it. Surprise me. I dunno- a soda. Something brightly colored. Yeah, he'll probably eat some too. No, he's not awake. You know what, throw some breadsticks in there too. They're really good. Yeah, he's alive, I totally checked like five minutes ago. Alright. See you soon. Thanks Havoc." Ed hung up the phone and plunked himself back on the couch, looking pleased with himself.

Roy opened his eyes.

"Oh good- you're awake." Alphonse said cheerily.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Bastard." Ed smirked. "You want anything for dinner? You weren't awake, but I can call back and order more..."

All Roy really wanted right now was some tea, and maybe a breadstick or two.

"No- I'll have some of whatever." his headache was still there, but not as intense as before. It was more a quiet sort of misery than a burning agony, now.

"Alphonse- do we have any tea?"

"Yes, we do! I'll go put on the kettle." Alphonse bounded to his feet, setting something off his lap and going into the kitchen. He was glad to be of help.

Roy looked down to see some sort of red yarn monstrosity nearly covering the floor of his living room.

"Alphonse taught himself how to knit today. I'd say that's lame, but all I've been doing is drinking juice boxes and complaining, so he did more than me." Ed spoke up from the couch.

"I tried to read something about the stone, but then I fell asleep again. These damn pills ruin everything." Ed complained, sitting up a little straighter.

Roy smirked. "That's not what you were saying at the ER last night. The pain medication made you act like a little kid."

"Shut up, I don't wanna hear it!"

"It was adorable. You came over and cuddled with me."

"Lalala!" Ed was covering his ears, now, and Roy laughed slightly. The only bad thing was that with Hughes in the hospital, he wouldn't have photographic evidence.

The doorbell rang just as Alphonse came back into the room with tea, and Ed jumped to his feet, excited. "Dinner!"

He came back with Havoc and several pizza boxes, settling himself down on the floor and starting to demolish an entire pizza by himself.

Havoc smirked. "Well. Glad to see the Chief wasn't too badly affected by everything. How are you, Boss?" Havoc looked over at Roy, who shrugged.

"I'll live." he sipped his tea and grabbed a bread stick from one of the take out containers. "How are they resolving this whole incident?"

Havoc shrugged. "I'm under orders not to talk about work with you. Hawkeye says you can get caught up on it yourself." Havoc shot a quick glance at Ed, who was still eating at an insane pace, and once again, Roy realized that there was something he didn't want to tell him in front of the boys. He'd find out soon enough when he went back to work again tomorrow, anyways.

"Hey Havoc- you wanna sign my cast!?" Ed held up his casted arm and continued to eat pizza with his other arm, and Havoc grinned, pulling out a sharpie from his pocket.

"Sure, Chief, let me see.".

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

The morning at work was quiet- Hughes had been discharged from the hospital yesterday, and Hawkeye told him he should go visit him friend immediately when he came in, despite the obvious stacks of paperwork on his desk. Roy complied without question- he'd known something was up since yesterday.

Fullmetal was occupied filling out his own share of paperwork about what'd happened, and getting people to sign his cast between forms.

He found it easy to duck out and stride into the investigation's branch, letting himself in and nodding to Scheska before he was knocking on the door to his friend's office excitedly.

Hughes was sitting sideways at his desk, his casted leg propped up on a chair set beside him. He gave a tired smile when he strode into the room.

"I was wondering how long before you showed up."

Roy snagged another chair and pulled it up, sitting down across from his friend.

"Well, I'm here. And I get the feeling something else has happened, but none of my team will say it outright. So tell me what it is. How are they resolving this case? Is Banks in custody?"

"No." Hughes frowned, sliding a manilla folder across the desktop.

"Banks was driving a car with two Drachmans in it and Ed in the passenger seat. They were tailed by a car driven by a single Drachman. Despite the crash, there was only one fatality. A Drachman in the car Ed was in- he was ejected and died on the scene. Everyone else survived the crash."

"So why aren't they in custody, then?" Roy said, not understanding.

"Open the file, Roy."

Roy obeyed. He found himself staring at the pieces of a destroyed car- the black car was upside down, the windows shattered, the front absolutely smashed... Roy found himself nauseas just looking at it, and he had to pull his eyes away.

"Ed... that was..." he could hardly put the words together.

Hughes nodded. "That was the car Ed rode in, yeah. He was the only one wearing a seat belt. He was also the only one uninjured enough to walk away from the crash. And it's a damn good thing he did."

"I don't understand. Ed said Banks was breathing when he left him, they were too injured to run away..."

"Someone else got there before the military, Roy." Hughes said gently. "Armstrong is processing the scene- he's the one who took these pictures. Shortly after Ed left, the wedding band killer surface from a nearby manhole."

Roy continued flipping through the folder- pictures, of a blood trail from bodies being dragged across the pavement, an open manhole cover...

"They were too injured to get away. The wedding band killer dragged every living man out of those cars and took them down into the sewers with him. He's having a hell of a lot of fun right now chopping them up- Armstrong has been able to confirm Banks is dead, though we're still looking for pieces of the other two. The corner is going to get back to me- let me know if we have enough body parts to account for three bodies. He left the dead man in the street- he only wanted the ones that were still alive."

Roy kept flipping through the photos. There were messages written in blood on the sewer walls. Cryptic warnings, some quotes of religious text, and for one, just a large smilie face drawn in blood.

"Are you okay?" Hughes asked, looking at Roy with concern.

Roy took a deep breath, closing the file folder when he was done. His heart was hammering in his chest. "I will be." he said finally, looking up. "I just... didn't expect them to all be dead. And like that..."

"Dragged into the sewers by a madman and tortured to death. Yeah, it's not exactly an ideal ending for anybody..."

"That could've been Edward."

"But it wasn't." Hughes said firmly. "Your staff all knows, but nobody has told Ed, and we're not planning to. All he needs to know is that they've been handled by the justice system."

"What kind of justice is that?" Roy looked down at the folder in disgust.

"Street justice. I know nobody deserves that, and it's horrific, but the one good thing that came out of all of this is that Ed is finally safe in Central again. That's what I tell myself, anyways."

"So- what does the brass think of all of this?"

Hughes sighed. "They have... mixed feelings on the matter. They're glad the whole Banks Fiasco has been dealt with. They're glad the Drachman issue is dealt with and was never publicized. And they're breathing down my neck trying to get me to catch the Wedding Band killer. I've already borrowed a couple of your men and called in as many favors as I could to help locate this guy. We're going to be starting to search the sewer systematically in teams next week." Hughes said simply.

"Enough of the official talk, though- what about the boys?"

"What about them?" Roy asked, looking puzzled. "I'm not planning on telling them about any of this. Now that the Drachmans and Banks are out of the picture, he'll probably start asking to travel again..."

"And what will you do?" Hughes asked, steepling his fingers and eyeing his friend carefully.

"I'll let him go." something painful in his chest tugged as he said those words, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Edward had goals to accomplish, leads to chase- and he wouldn't get anywhere standing still. "There's no reason to worry about him more than usual, now that things are dealt with. Besides, it's probably safer. It means I won't have to worry about him while I'm helping with the Mr. Fingers case. I'd rather have him out of the city while this is dealt with- he's already gotten too close to this killer for comfort a few times."

"Right. That's what I figured. How soon do you plan on letting him go out again?"

Roy paused for a moment, thinking. Ed did have a broken wrist- he was still sleeping more than usual, starting to recover...

"I'll keep him here for a week. Then he can go back out on his search."

"You sound disappointed." Hughes observed.

"It's... more lively with them around. But I'd only be hurting them if I kept them too close. I'm not the only one with goals, Hughes." he wondered about the day when Ed would return to Central city not with a suit of armor, but with Alphonse in the flesh. He realized he didn't know what Alphonse physically looked like- not even in pictures- and something fluttered in his chest at the thought of finally seeing the younger of the two boys for the first time.

"That's what being a parent is, you know. Knowing when to protect them and keep them close, and knowing when to let them go into the world on their own."

"I'm not their father, Hughes."

"No. You're not. But you're the closest thing they have. Ed's probably gonna be back here in two months, pissed and tired because he hasn't found anything. What'll you do then?"

"Tell the kid to go take a shower and let him crash upstairs. If he finds any alchemy that he needs my help with, he'll ask me about it."

"That's what a parent does. You're they're father, Roy, in all but name."

"Somethings are better left unsaid, Hughes. I'm climbing up the ladder- the less people know about who I care about, the better."

"And if Edward says it?"

"He already has."

"He has!?" Hughes eyes widened and his grin grew impossibly wide.

"Yes. He was drugged to high heaven in a hospital, but he's called me Dad."

"And did you correct him?"

"No."

"That's it. I'm starting a damn photo album." Hughes was rooting through his desk drawers.

Mustang sighed, standing and heading for the door. This was probably all the useful conversation he'd get with Hughes today.

"You had two damn kids and I didn't even get to come to your baby shower!"

"Shut up, Hughes!"

Obligatory ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12 .

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 11  (Calum Hood AU)

THE NEXT MORNING was spent consoling Hannah.  She hadn’t heard from Ashton since the big blow up, which left her distraught.  Whenever they fought before, they always called or texted to let each other know everything was gonna be okay.  But Ashton was radio silent, and so it was my job to make sure my teary-eyed, emotionally wrecked best friend would be okay.

“Michael didn’t even look at me before he left,” she sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes and pouting.  I winced; this fight had been huge, and spilled over into everyone else in the house.  I could tell Michael was feeling a little betrayed himself, and Luke probably shared similar thoughts.  Calum, of course, I had no idea about.  I only hoped they all wouldn’t hold a grudge against Hannah and make things even harder for her.

“He’ll get over it, Han,” I promised her.  “Trust me.  Once this all blows over you’ll be stronger than ever.”  She shook her head, eyes cloudy and filled with misery.

“I don’t know, Scarlett,” she said in a weak voice.  “It’s really bad.”  I bit my lip, unsure of what else to say.  I didn’t want to lie and say it wasn’t bad, because lying would help no one.  But I also didn’t believe this was the end of her relationship with Ashton.  They could mend the broken bridges between them, if only he was willing to try.  I think time was the only remedy needed, and once enough time passed things could start improving.

We were joined at that moment by Calum.  I avoided his eyes, still wildly confused about how to feel after last night.  He’d shown a deep understanding that he’d never displayed before, and it stunned me.  I thought Calum of all people would relish the opportunity to expose and humiliate me, but instead he chose to respect my plea for distance.  As he sat down next to me, I felt the heat of his body so close to mine and shifted uncomfortably.

But apparently he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable at all, because there was a relaxed smirk on his face.  He nudged his box of frosted cereal towards me.  “Here, have some since I know you’d just steal it later.”  His tone was jovial, causing me to finally meet his gaze.  It was light and innocent, making my brows raise in disbelief.

I took the box and gladly dug my hand in, enjoying the sickly sweet cereal as Hannah distractedly scrolled through her phone.  Calum shuddered beside me.

“I don’t know how you eat it dry,” he told me, pouring milk into his bowl.  I wrinkled my nose.

“Because soggy cereal is disgusting, that’s why.”  My expression was coy as I took another handful, and he rolled his eyes.  I liked the way we could play off each other and actually joke around, the usual tension missing for some reason.  I figured last night probably had something to do with it, but if this was the new normal I was completely on board.

Hannah looked up from her phone.  “Do you have work today?” she asked.  “I was wondering if we could spend the day watching bad movies and eating unhealthy food.”

I pursed my lips.  “Actually, yeah, in an hour.  But later we can totally--”

“No, no.”  She waved her hand, heaving a sigh and staring off into the distance.  “Maybe a little solitude would be good for me.  I’m way too codependent.”

I frowned.  “Hannah--”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, Scarlett, we both know it is.  I’m overly dependent on people and you’re obsessed with fixing them.  We both have flaws.”  I blushed a deep red as she exposed our relationship problems.  I felt Calum’s hand still above his bowl as he listened, and I suppressed a grimace.  He had definitely began figuring out just how much I liked to fix things, how I obsessed over little details until I thought it was perfect.  

Hannah pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, shoulders sagging and face crestfallen.  “I think I’m gonna wallow downstairs all day.  You’re welcome to join in the fun, Calum.”  He gave her a small smile as she trudged towards the basement door, and when she finally disappeared downstairs I let out a sigh.

Calum pushed the cereal around in his bowl, frowning thoughtfully.  “You think she’s gonna be okay?”  His question was sincere, and I could detect behind the words just how much he cared for her.  

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I shrugged.  “I hope so.  She’s been through a lot of shit recently, and I’d hate to see Ashton abandon her over it.”  I briefly panicked that I had gone too far, made it seem like Ashton was entirely in the wrong.  But if Calum thought this, he didn’t show it.  Instead he just nodded, finishing his cereal quietly.

I checked the clock on the wall.  “I ought to get ready, I have a bus to catch.”  I closed the cereal box and began to get up, but then Calum reached out his arm to stall me.

“Why don’t I drive you?  I have nothing better to do, and you’re probably really tired of riding that dingy bus.”

My lips parted in surprise, but his expression was earnest.  I blinked a few times, at a loss for words.  He merely rolled his eyes and stood up beside me, leaning in close as he said, “What, I’m not allowed to be nice?”  His breath was warm and I felt my body tense up at the proximity of his face.  But then he pulled away with a smirk to put his bowl in the sink.  I exhaled, fidgeting a little as I considered his offer.

“Fine,” I accepted.  “But you better be picking me up, too.”  I quirked my lips up challengingly, and he chuckled at the counter.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he replied.  I smiled before turning to head upstairs, thoroughly confused but pleasantly surprised.  I told myself it was only because I didn’t have to catch the bus, not because a certain curly-haired boy was finally being nice to me.

I got ready fast and joined Calum by the front door, following him out to his car.  It was another beautiful day weather wise, and I sighed happily as we climbed into his mustang.  

“You better not complain about my music,” he warned as he put an old-fashioned tape into the cassette player.  The car was vintage and had all the old features, something I found charming and very much in character with the owner.  Soft guitar sounds drifted out, and I vaguely recognized the band.  I didn’t say a word as we drove off, enjoying the way the music seemed to match our peaceful mood.

I was almost disappointed when we arrived at the cafe, wishing I could keep driving for hundreds of miles with just Calum and his music and the comfortable quiet.  But this was reality, and I thanked him quickly for the ride before heading in.

Mack had realized a few weeks ago how well Roger and I worked together, and decided to schedule us with the same shifts since we had similar availability.  This meant seeing him every time I worked, something the two of us were definitely fine with.

“Did I see you climbing out of a cherry red sex mobile this morning?” he asked innocently, and I choked on the water I was sipping.

“If you mean Calum’s mustang, then yes,” I told him, rolling my eyes at his insinuation.  “He offered me a ride, how could I have said no?”

Roger smiled evilly.  “I know a perfect way you can thank him,” he said, batting his eyelashes.  I flipped him off with a laugh, trying not to imagine all the possibilities he had in his head.  They were surely all dirty and seductive, and thinking about Calum in a dirty and seductive way was not going to help me do my job.

It was a quicker shift today, ending in the early afternoon.  When I had about a half hour left, I began wondering what Calum was up to all day.  I always wondered this; he didn’t have a job, didn’t go to school.  What did he do all day?  Where did he go?  Did he have other friends, a different life away from us?  I could tell he was full of secrets, and my mind drifted to what they could all be when the front door opened.

“No way,” Roger whispered, causing me to snap out of my daydreaming.  Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Scarlett,” Calum greeted when he walked up the counter.  His smirk was cool and his eyes were hooded, and I bit my lip.  “Thought I’d try some of this coffee your always screwing up.”

I scoffed, and Roger shook his head as he butted into our conversation.  “Oh no, she hasn’t screwed up an order all day.  I want to see how long it will last.”

“Hey!” I protested, smacking his arm.  “I didn’t mess anything up yesterday, either.”

Roger narrowed his eyes.  “Debatable.  The amount of whipped cream you put on that poor man’s hot chocolate yesterday was almost criminal.”

I folded my arms at him.  “You can never have too much whipped cream, Roger.”  He just flipped me off and got back to cleaning the display case.  Turning back to Calum, I flushed.  Having him here was overwhelming; he’d stepped into a part of my life that was entirely my own, and I almost felt like he was invading my privacy.

“Do you know what you want?  Should I recommend stuff?”  I didn’t know why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, trying to tell myself it wasn’t because of the deep brown eyes studying me so intently.

“I like the sound of that whipped cream,” he started.  “Why don’t you pile it on top of a mocha.”  I nodded, punching in his order and accepting his cash with a small smile.  He went to sit at a table by the window, and I forced myself not to stare as I focused on his drink.

I’d made a hundred mochas by now, but this one I really wanted to get right.  I made sure to add the perfect amount of steamed milk, and tried way too hard to make the whipped cream swirl as even as possible.  Roger watched me work, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“You sure this is the drink that’ll get you in his pants?”  I almost threw the hot coffee on his face, fighting a smile at his stupid jokes.  I approached the counter and called Calum’s name, presenting the mocha proudly.

“I hope this is satisfactory,” I said as he took the mug and raised it in a mock cheer.  I was slightly disappointed when he sat back down without saying anything, but pushed this feeling aside as I finished my shift.

Calum was waiting for me when Roger and I emerged from the back room after clocking out.  My smile was shy and I hooked my bag over my shoulder nervously.  But Calum’s smirk was oddly comforting, and he held the door for me.

“I thought we’d make a quick pit-stop at the grocery store for more beer,” he informed me, and I knitted my brows together.

“Didn’t you just get beer yesterday?”

“It was only a six-pack,” he defended with a laugh.  “And besides, the guys all needed one after the blow up.”  I nodded, understanding him completely.  If I were Michael or Luke, I’d want to drown my worries too.

Roger appeared behind my shoulder.  “Am I invited on this little road trip?”  My jaw dropped, but he cackled and gave me a good-natured shove.  “Totally kidding, go have fun on your grocery store date.”  I almost tripped him at saying the word date, terrified that it would rub Calum the wrong way.  But I don’t think he even heard, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we got back into his car.

“How was the beer I suggested yesterday?” he asked me, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his rolled down window.  I admired the way the sun struck his profile, the relaxed posture he drove in.  

Licking my lips, I answered, “It was actually really good, probably the best beer I’ve had.  But I’m not that picky when it comes to beer, though.”

He smirked.  “What are you picky about?”  

Smiling at his oddly personal question, I considered my answer.  “Well, cereal, as you already know.  I refuse to ever have it with milk.  Other than that...not much, I guess.  I’m fine with most things.”

Calum thought about this for a second, a distant smile on his lips.  “So you’re just so easy-going and carefree, huh?”

I laughed, propping my feet up on the dashboard to reiterate this point.  “Oh, totally.”

We arrived at the store and immediately went for the beer.  Calum pointed out a few good brands, and I pretended to take meticulous notes on his suggestions.  He picked out a case of the kind I bought yesterday, and we brought it back to the car.

He paused after stashing the bag in the backseat.  His expression was clouded, and more protective than it had been all day.  Clearly his walls were back up, but I didn’t know why.  When he finally spoke, my question was answered, “Want to take this somewhere and crack it open?  I don’t know, the park or something?”  He was scared to ask me this, worried I’d say no.  Fear of rejection, I thought.  Interesting, considering all of his arrogant bravado.

I nodded eagerly, hoping to ease some of his nerves.  “That sounds great.  And it’ll give Hannah more alone time I think she really needs.”

The park wasn’t crowded at all, and we found a nice spot up on a hill a little ways.  The shade of a tree provided us relief from the late afternoon sun, and at our vantage point we could watch the people roaming around below.  I laid on the grass, propped up by an elbow as I watched Calum crack open the beers.  As he handed me one we clinked the cans together in a toast, and when I took a sip I felt all of the past few days’ stress leak right out of me.  The breeze, the sun, the fresh air; it was all so cleansing, and I couldn’t harbor any negativity in such a serene place.

Laying next to Calum, I inspected his face, unafraid of him catching me staring.  I took in his full lips, thinking about all the different expressions they produced.  His curly hair fell across his forehead, and I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.  His eyes were definitely my favorite feature of his; rich brown in color, reflecting light in the dark depths.  If I could, I would gaze into them all day, just to uncover whatever secrets they protected.  Calum was an enigma I was itching to solve, and every day I felt a little bit closer to the truth.

Just as I thought, he caught me staring.  But I didn’t look away, bravely holding his gaze as he confronted me with a look.  A brief smirk crossed his face, before he took a swig of beer and sighed.

“What are you trying to find, Scarlett?”  The question was innocent, but it set off butterflies in my chest.  I liked the way he said my name, almost like it was music on his tongue.  Blushing, I finally did look away and focused instead on the people in the park.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I responded.  “Just trying to figure out all your little secrets, that’s all.”  Something about the atmosphere had me feeling daring, and I hoped he felt the same way.

He laughed.  “You don’t think I’m doing the same thing?”  We met each other’s eyes for a second, and then he added, “Alright, fine.  You tell me something and I’ll tell you something.”

“How democratic of you,” I joked, and he laid back on his elbows.  I thought about what to tell him, sifting through the multitude of secrets in my arsenal.  Deciding to take advantage of what little bravery I had right now, I said, “Okay, I’ll tell you something.”  He shifted his position to face me better, and suddenly I felt nervous.  But I pushed this away, determined to be honest, no matter how much his eyes burned into me.

“You’ve known something is up about me being home from school for a while now, and you’re right.  I’m not on a break: I had to drop out.”  I paused for a second to let him soak this in.  His smirk faded to a frown, but I pushed on.  “And the reason I had to drop out was because I was stone-cold broke.  I couldn’t pay the tuition, so I had to leave.  And the reason I’m broke is...”  I trailed off, wondering if this was taking it too far.  But I wanted Calum to know this.  I didn’t know why I felt this way, why I trusted him all of a sudden.  But I needed him to know what happened to me.  “My parents both died recently, in a car crash.  Everything went to the medical bills to try to keep them alive, but it didn’t work.  And now I’m here, alone, broke, and...”  I laughed morosely.  “And with no idea what I’m doing.”

Calum’s face fell, his eyes filling with sympathy as he opened his mouth to say something.  “Scarlett, I--”

I waved him off.  “I don’t want any pity.  That’s why I kept it to myself, because I didn’t want to be the poor sad girl with dead parents.”  Already I felt Calum’s view of me shifting, and I only hoped he wasn’t seeing a weak, pitiable basket case in front of him.

He sighed, brows low on his eyes as he seemed to be waiting for me to look at him.  When I finally did, he tilted his head.  “Pity and support aren’t the same thing, you know.  Everyone needs help when they go through something hard, it doesn’t mean people see you as weak or pathetic.”

My mouth felt dry as his words soaked in.  I’d never looked at it this way before, and his fresh perspective actually made me feel better.  I guess I hadn’t really let anyone just be there for me, I pushed everyone away.  Smiling meekly, I said, “Now where were you two months ago when I needed to hear that?”

He chuckled. eyes dancing with amusement.  I liked that even though we were talking about such a heavy topic, we kept it light.  For someone I’d always thought was so brooding, Calum had a gentler side that was exactly what I needed in this moment.

I lightly pushed at his arm, leaning on my hand as I faced him.  “Alright, since I just poured out my soul it’s your turn.”  The anticipation of finding out one of his secrets was killing me, and I bit my lip to contain my enthusiasm.

Calum rested the back of his head on his hands so he was gazing up at the cloudy sky.  His lips parted, and I held my breath. 

“You’ve probably noticed the lack of shit going on in my life,” he started, and I nodded with a small smile.  I was pleased that this was what he was going to talk about; it was what I was most curious about.  “The reason I’m able to live this way is because of the checks my mother sends every month.  She feels guilty for screwing up my childhood or something, I don’t know.  The money is good so I don’t complain.”

This was a lot of information to process.  I’d had a hunch for a while that Calum’s life was more complex than he let on.  It was interesting to hear about his mother and their apparent estrangement.  My fingers toyed with a few blades of grass as I waited for more of an explanation.

“I haven’t actually talked to her in months,” he admitted, sounding a little surprised himself at the confession.  “Not that I don’t...care about her.”  I noted the way he stumbled, avoiding the word love.  “I do, I want her to be happy.  I just don’t think me being around is good for either of us.”

Even though I had an entirely different view of my parents, this made sense to me.  Sometimes distance is the best thing for a relationship.  I was always close with my mother and father, but that was because they’d supported me my whole life.  I had no idea what Calum went through with is mom, or how they ended up so estranged.

I hadn’t realized he was looking at me, expectant for a response, and I blushed.  “Sorry, I just...it’s nice that you’ve found what works for both of you.  So many people try way too hard and just end up hurting each other.”

He smiled, brows lifting.  “Gotta say I’m surprised.  With all of your psychology books and deep analysis I thought you’d try to tell me to reach out.”

Shrugging, I let a smirk twist across my lips.  “I’m full of surprises,” I replied jokingly.  Truthfully, I did think that Calum reaching out would be a good idea.  Maybe not right now, but in the future when he was more mature and ready to confront his mother he should definitely do it.  He deserved to have a mother, someone who loved him unconditionally.  I wanted him to have a family.

When I glanced back over to him, I gasped lightly.  The way he was looking at me took my breath away; it was as if his brown eyes had pulled back all of my defenses and were staring straight into my soul, my thoughts, my body.  A gravitational pull was tugging at my chest, and for a second I contemplated closing the short distance between us and connecting our bodies.  I was sure he could hear my thunderous heartbeat, and I wanted to reach out and feel his own.

His eyes flitted to my lips for a brief moment, and then he whispered, “We should go.”  He rolled over onto his back and sat up, ending the moment just like that.

We were silent on the drive home, but it was a comfortable quiet I found myself sinking into.  The image of Calum’s face, so close and illuminated by the setting sun, was burned in my eyes as I stared at the road in front of me.  I wanted to kiss him.  I wanted to be the one to make a move, to reach over and do what we’ve both been yearning for.  But I also knew how much it would complicate things, and in a moment that was so blissfully simple, I didn’t want to ruin it.

I thought once we got home we’d both part ways and say nothing.  But as Calum parked in the driveway, switching off the engine and engulfing us in total silence, I held my breath.  He was going to say something, that much I knew.  But about what I couldn’t possibly comprehend.  

The interior roof lights cast a thin veil of yellow on his features, and in the small car it felt impossibly tight.  I twisted in the seat, lips pressed together as I waited in suspense.  Calum pushed a hand through his hair, letting the curls bounce above his forehead as he rested his arm on the headrest behind me.

He licked his lips, watching me closely.  “Remember when you said I knew nothing about you?”

I blinked, remembering the night clearly.  I’d hurled the words at Calum in the hopes he’d back off, leave me alone.  Instead he seemed to want to get closer, and now here we were together in his car after spending the whole afternoon together.  “Yes,” I said plainly.  “I remember.”

He looked away, out into the dark distance beyond the window.  “Well, you were right,” he declared, suddenly turning back to face me.  “I don’t have a clue who you are.  But the thing is...I want to find out.”

All of the oxygen had seeped out of the car.  Blood was rushing in my ears, my fingers tingled with nerves.  I felt like I was tilting in the seat, like gravity had flipped and suddenly I was fighting not to float away.  A million thoughts spun through my mind, none of them making sense.  Only one stuck out: I need to get out of this car.

And so I did.  I stuttered something incoherent and slammed the door behind me, practically running to the door then up the stairs to my room.  I tore my jacket off, then my shirt and jeans.  I felt suffocated by the constricting clothes, and pulled on soft shorts and a big tee shirt.  I began pacing across my floor, wondering if I’d just made a huge mistake.  Calum had said something I’d been itching to hear for weeks, without even realizing it myself.  But I couldn’t wrap my head around how we got here.  We fundamentally disliked each other, but somehow we’d poured our hearts out today and crossed into new territory.  I liked the territory, but I was terrified of it blowing up.  All it took was one wrong move for Calum and I to disintegrate, and I was scared of crumbling because of him.

I flopped onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling.  The stairs creaked in the hallway, and I felt the door to Calum’s room next door shut.  Having him so close but so far was driving me crazy and not helping me get over my anxiety.  I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, only thinking of him.  His eyes, his lips, his voice.  

Before I knew what I was doing my body took over and brought me to my door.  I twisted the door knob, expecting to walk into the pitch black hallway.  Instead I opened it up and was faced by the exact person I couldn’t get off my mind.

I hadn’t even heard Calum come to my door.  But here he was, clad in only a pair of black joggers.  I could barely see his face but I could make out his eyes boring into mine

I don’t know who leaned in first, but within a millisecond our lips connected.  My whole body reacted to his touch, lighting on fire with every skim of his fingers.  My hands went to his neck, his face, his hair.  I pulled him tightly against me, feeling his bare shoulders and running my fingers across his wide back.

His lips molded to mine like clay, his tongue teasing at my mouth as I breathed hard.  Our foreheads bumped together, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as the kiss deepened even more.  His hands ran along my sides, igniting the skin as he went.  I felt his fingers hook under my shirt, sliding up my skin and causing a string of moans to fall from my mouth.  The sounds only encouraged him, and I felt his thumbs brush my exposed breasts.

Our lips tore apart for a second, and I exhaled lightly.  “Calum,” I murmured against his cheek, and he attached his mouth to my jaw.  The sensation was overwhelming as he dragged his lips down my neck, finding a sensitive spot below my ear.  I couldn’t control my heavy breathing, and my knees weakened as he sucked gently on my skin.  I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck for support, melting into his body like butter.

He peppered kisses across my neck to my jaw to my face, kissing my cheeks before reconnecting with my lips.  The kiss had slowed down, softening into a sweet caress that calmed my racing heartbeat.  I traced my fingertips down his neck, resting finally on his bare chest as we disconnected once and for all.  My forehead bumped against his collarbone, his larger height making him rest his chin on the top of my head.

His hands rubbed up and down my arms, and I pressed a feathery kiss to his chest before leaning back.  I tangled my fingers into his, pulling him back into my room.

“Stay,” I whispered, and I heard him close the door behind him.  I fell onto the bed, pulling him beside me so we laid face to face.  He brought the covers up around us, encasing us in warmth.  I was finally breathing evenly again, sleep beginning to pull me under.  The last thing I felt before I went under was the feeling of his arm hooking around my waist and pulling me into him.

[st-crylo]

Rebound

Part 2

A/N: I’m gonna try to keep this updated weekly, especially since the response to it has been so good :,). Thank you guys so much, I really appreciate y’all for taking time to read my fics!!

Warnings: mostly just swearing, alcohol mention, tobacco use, infidelity

Word Count: 6.2K

Tagging:@haylaansmi @nankstasty @thomasscresswell

Masterlist

As you walked through the door, you saw your mom waiting for you in the kitchen, reading some article in a magazine. When she heard the door close, she looked up and smiled at you.

“How was the first day back?” she asked, a little too enthusiastically.

“Not terrible. Made some new friends,” you replied before heading up the stairs to your room, trying to avoid any more questions. You didn’t want to have to lie to your mom about the new friends you’d made, especially since she saw Kylo how everyone else did. 

Closing the door to your room, you heaved a sigh before throwing your backpack onto the ground, and plopping down on your bed, pulling out your phone to see an email. Curious, you opened the notification, then groaned when you saw who the sender was.

(y/n), we really need to talk. I understand that you probably have me blocked, so I had to go to drastic measures. As much as there is I want to say to you, a lot of it can’t be said over an email. However, I do think you should know that I really don’t think you should be hanging out with Ben Solo. He’s not the kind of person someone like you should hang around, and he’s nothing more than a common criminal. I’m only looking out for you. I love you, Shawn.

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, scream at the top of your lungs, and maybe break something. The rage inside you was boiling hot, and you felt like a kettle, left on the stove too long. What kind of desperate asshole decides an email is a great way to contact the girl you cheated on? Why did he even expect a response from you? Most importantly, how dare he claim to love you. The whole thing had you heated, but you held your composure as you deleted the email, and pulled the little slip of paper with Kylo’s number on it out. 

You stared at the number, and thought about Kylo’s idea. If you were being completely honest, Shawn’s email made you consider it more seriously. After all, it was obvious that the idea of you even hanging around Kylo set something off in him. If the two of you were to “date,” he would probably lose his shit. Admittedly, the idea of watching Shawn implode like that would be kinda fun. 

At the same time, you didn’t know this person. Not Kylo, you’d known him so long, even though today seemed more like a reintroduction instead of a reunion. No, you weren’t sure you knew who you were. You’d never wished ill upon someone like this, and certainly never considered going through with something so major in order to upset someone. That had never really been your style, and you’d always looked down at people who did stuff like that.

But did you really know yourself at all?

You’d been with Shawn for three years, all of high school, really. Those were the most formative years of your life, and they’d been shaped by your boyfriend. Were you really this suburban good girl, who only had good friends, had never even been to a high school party, and certainly never rebelled against even her parents? Or were those things that Shawn had shaped you to be? After all, the more you thought about it, the more you realised his opinions had affected a lot of the way you acted. So now, you were left at an impasse. Were you really who you’d acted as your first three years of high school, or were you someone else entirely that you’d never gotten to discover?

You created a contact for Kylo on your phone, and typed up a message.

What exactly would us “dating” entail?

You started at the screen of your phone as you watched the dots appear as Kylo started texting back. There was a little bit of anxiety in your chest, but the idea of “dating” Kylo filled you with a sense of thrill as well. 

We wouldn’t be “dating” right away. We’d pretend to flirt for a while and then start dating. Do basic couple shit at school, but especially wherever him or his little friends can see.

Made sense. It wouldn’t be smart to jump straight to dating, that would be too suspicious. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure how to flirt, but you were sure you could get some advice somewhere. You pulled up your keyboard to respond.

We should also make sure to go on dates, too. That way, we can convince your parents we’re dating too. 

After all, Kylo had to have something in it as well, and he said he wanted to convince his parents he was improving. 

Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll have to bring you around Gran and Granpa too, if that’s okay with you.

Yeah, that’s fine. 

So is that a yes?

You thought for a moment. Was this really the decision you wanted to make? Then, you thought about the picture, and thought about the email.

Hell yeah.

***

The next morning, you didn’t have to fight so hard to get out of bed. You actually took the time to throw on some jeans instead of leggings. Most importantly, your heart didn’t feel so heavy. It was like you finally had an inkling of hope in the form of revenge. Looking out of your bedroom window, you noticed how the sky was still overcast, but there was no rain. However, just to be on the safe side, you threw on your jacket and made sure to bring your umbrella. 

Walking down the steps, you peeked into the kitchen from the top of the stairs, making sure the coast was clear before continuing your descent. Your dad was there, sipping his morning coffee and reading something on his phone, but your mom was nowhere in sight. Letting out a small sigh of relief, you continued down the stairs, noticing your lunch bag and a small note on the island.

“Morning, (y/n),” your dad said, not looking up from his phone. 

“Morning,” you responded before picking up the note. 

Morning, dear. I had to head to work early today, but I went ahead and packed your lunch. Have a good day at school! Love, mom.

A small frown pulled the corners of your mouth down a little. You loved your mom, but she had been trying too hard to cheer you up instead of letting you simply wallow in your misery for a couple of days. You neatly folded the note and put it in your pocket before taking your lunch off the counter. 

“Bye, dad,” you said as you headed for the front door. Your dad gave you a final wave goodbye before you opened the door, heading out into the world.

Unsurprisingly, Kylo was sitting there, presumably waiting for you as he leaned against the back of his Mustang, smoking his morning cigarette. He must’ve been out there for a while, because he dropped the butt onto the ground before stomping it out and picking it back up. When he came back up, he noticed you and smiled.

“Want another ride?” He asked, standing straight and running a hand through his long hair. 

“Beats walking,” you said, walking up to the Skywalker driveway and climbing into the car as Kylo threw his cigarette butt away. Kylo climbed in next, starting the car as soon as he closed the door.  

“So my uncle told Gran and Granpa that you and I have been hanging out,” Kylo started as he pulled out of the driveway. “Can you believe they already want you over for dinner?”

You shook your head with a smile on your face. Even though they were your next door neighbors, you hadn’t really spoken to Kylo’s grandparents. “Sounds like fun. When?”

“Friday,” Kylo responded

You simply nodded in response before staring out of the passenger window. Then, you remembered.

“Do you want to hear about something Shawn sent to me yesterday?” you asked, turning to Kylo. He furrowed his brows in confusion as he glanced at you from his peripherals. 

“Did you not block him?” he asked, the same confusion he wore on his face mixed into his tone.

“No, I did. He sent me this through email, if you can believe it,” you said.

“Go ahead, I’m all ears,” he replied.

You recalled the contents of the email to the best of your ability, and as you did, you watched Kylo’s knuckles slowly turn white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

“And after all of that, he has the nerve to say he loves me? After everything he’s put me through, he has the balls to say he loves me? Apparently not, if he’s perfectly okay sticking his tongue down some other girl’s throat,” you said with an angry huff, as tears threatened to fall. They weren’t sad tears, however. No, these were the tears of pure unbridled rage that only became realized when you talked about the situation out loud. It was weird, but admittedly the feeling was welcome. You were tired of being sad, and angry was a much better improvement. At least with anger you could stop moping around.

“I hate that shit,” Kylo commented as he stopped at the red light at the end of the neighborhood. “They always try to tell you they love you, but if they loved you they wouldn’t have cheated in the first place. Fuck that.” 

“My sentiments exactly.” There was another good thing about Kylo; he could relate to you. You knew that none of your friends had ever been cheated on before, so it was a lot harder to talk to them about it. Kylo, though, he knew the pain, the resentment, everything. He would know exactly how you were feeling and not make any judgments-not that he would do it whether or not he’d experienced it anyways. It was such a different change of scenery, it was honestly refreshing. 

Not that you didn’t love your friends, you treasured them dearly. There was just something about knowing someone who’d had the same experiences as you.

The light turned green and Kylo drove forward into the school parking lot, maneuvering into his spot. When he placed the car in park, there was a small ding from his phone, and he grabbed it, checking the notification.

“Milo’s gonna drop Sami and Alan off, so they’re gonna hang with us before class. Means you can meet Milo,” Kylo said before texting a reply. You didn’t know why, but you had a really good feeling about Milo. After all, he was a friend of Kylo’s. 

It was about five minutes later when a grey Honda Civic pulled up beside the two of you. Needless to say, that was not what you were expecting. You watched as Sami and Alan stepped out of the Honda Civic, followed by who you assumed was Milo.

He was maybe an inch taller than Kylo, his hair bleached white with dark brown barely peeking out at the roots of his hair. He had a cigarette between his lips, and you wondered if that was where Kylo had picked up the habit. When Kylo rolled down your window, he leaned against the car and peered in through the window while Alan and Sami climbed into the backseat behind the driver’s seat. Once they were in the back, Kylo set the seat back, settling in and closing the door. 

“You must be (y/n),” he said, holding out his hand to you. You shook his hand and smiled up at him.

“That’s me,” you answered before dropping your hand onto your lap. 

“So, are we still on for Friday?” Milo asked, turning to Kylo. Kylo frowned before letting out a sigh.

“Shit, I forgot. Told my grandparents that me and (y/n) would have dinner with them. If you wanna go later though, I can probably sneak out,” Kylo responded, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s fine, just don’t get caught. Wanna come along too, (y/n)? Sami, Alan, Phasma, and Pat are coming,” Milo said, turning back to you.

“Where exactly?” you asked, turning to Kylo.

“Jordan’s place, she graduated with Milo. She’s having a kickback before heading to Coruscant for college,” Kylo explained.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you started, a little uncomfortable about being invited to the house of someone you didn’t know.

“If you go, Kylo might not have to sneak out,” Sami suggested from the back. “Besides, Jordan’s really chill, I think you’d like her.”

“How would her going with me make it to where I don’t have to sneak out?” Kylo asked, turning around to face Sami.

“Well, no one really expects (y/n) to go to a party. She could just tell your grandparents that the two of you are going to study,” Sami offered. As you thought it over, it was a pretty decent idea. You didn’t really have the party reputation, and everyone knew it. 

“I’m game,” you answered. Kylo looked at you with a look of surprise, but simply shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette from the box.

“Sick. I’ll see you Friday then. I gotta go, I have a shift in thirty minutes. See ya, Alan, bye babe!” Milo said before blowing a kiss to Sami. She smiled back at him and waved goodbye as he climbed back into his car, driving off out of the parking lot.

“Oh, (y/n), you might wanna tell your parents you’re staying at my place on Friday night,” Sami said as Kylo lit his cigarette. “Jordan usually has drinks at her ‘kickbacks.’” You nodded as you looked back at her.

“So did he ask you yet?” came Alan’s voice, his eyes refusing to leave the screen of his phone.

“As a matter of fact,” Kylo said after taking the first drag of his cig. “I did. Me and (y/n) are planning to ‘date.’ And Sami thought I wouldn’t have the balls.” He blew the smoke out of the window, before taking another drag.

“I never said that,” Sami said with a frown. “I just said that your explanation of your plan seemed a little lacking. I’m glad you agreed, though, (y/n). Shawn’s a piece of shit.” 

“You’re telling me,” you said as you let out a sigh. “Can’t wait to see the look on his smug little face when I start ‘dating’ someone he hates. Wasn’t aware that Kylo shared his plan with everyone, though.” A small flush arose in Kylo’s cheeks, and he didn’t make eye contact with you.

“You would be surprised, when he’s not being an emo prick, he won’t shut the fuck up,” Alan added, looking up with a smirk. Kylo looked back at him with his brows furrowed. 

“Like you’re one to talk,” Kylo huffed out. He finished up the last of his cigarette before checking the clock. It was 8:00 already.

“Shit, let’s get going, punks,” Sami said, lightly kicking the back of Kylo’s seat.

“Fuck, I’m getting out. Hand me my bag,” Kylo said as he tossed the cigarette butt into the car’s ashtray. Without warning, a black backpack went flying towards Kylo and hit him on the chest. “Fuck you, Sami.” He grabbed his bag by the straps and stepped out of the car, bringing the seat forward so Sami and Alan could climb out. You stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you, putting your backpack onto your shoulders while you waited for everyone to step out. Kylo walked forward first and you fell into step beside him.

As the four of you walked into the building, you could feel people turn to stare at you, and you remembered your reputation. You weren’t the kind of girl to hang out with Kylo Ren and his ilk, you were one of the good girls. A small voice in the back of your head resented that. 

Alan split off pretty quickly, bidding his farewell before heading to his first class. Sami was next, saying she wanted to be early to art, so she said her goodbye before speeding away. 

“Guess I’ll see you at lunch,” Kylo said as the two of you parted, and you headed for your econ class. 

Much like yesterday, the pace of which your first two classes moved was painfully slow. You weren’t surprised, the first day of actual class was horrible, but you tried to stay focused and take notes. Whenever you got distracted, though, you kept thinking about the plan you and Kylo had established. It felt like the perfect revenge, “dating” someone Shawn hated. However, the more you thought about it, the more you wondered why exactly Shawn hated Kylo. Kylo had said it was because he’d punched Shawn, but you felt like there was something there that you were missing, some truth that Kylo didn’t want to say.

You couldn’t worry about it too much, though. It was Kylo’s business, and you didn’t want to pry if he didn’t want to tell you exactly what had happened. You definitely weren’t going to go to Shawn for the reason, and you doubted that Shawn would tell you the truth anyways, so it would have to remain an unsolved mystery in your mind. 

Lunch could not have come sooner, and as you flowed into the cafeteria with the rest of the people who had third lunch, you looked around for your new group of friends. You saw Phasma first, who waved at you to come over to her. As you walked closer, you watched as she stepped out to the outdoor seating, and you followed, noticing everyone else sitting there too. There were only a handful of other groups outside as well, so it was much more quiet and calm than being in the loud cafeteria. 

“Man, Mr. Jinn’s class is kicking my ass,” you heard Alan say as you sat down between Phasma and Kylo.

“How, it’s only the second day of classes?” Phasma asked before biting into a roll. 

“Have you ever had Mr. Jinn’s class, Phasma?” Kylo asked, putting a bookmark in the book he was reading.

“No.”

“Then don’t say shit. He’s a cool guy, but damn he gives a lot of homework. Alan, if you need help, don’t come to me,” Kylo said, leaning against the table. Alan frowned as he looked up at Kylo.

“Wow, thanks, Kylo, you’re such a hero,” he quipped. 

“So, (y/n), how was the beginning of your second day?” Sami asked, pushing aside her untouched lunch as she leaned forward to talk to you.

“It was alright, but I’m getting tired of people staring at me,” you responded. Even though you’d tried your hardest to focus, the whispers were still hard to ignore. It almost felt like you were being punished for Shawn’s actions.

“People don’t know how to mind their own goddamn business,” Phasma stated. “They just want shit to gossip about. When you’re not the fresh gossip anymore, they’ll all but forget you exist.” 

“I can’t wait for that to happen. I’m tired of hearing rumors about something involving me. Especially since I basically don’t know shit,” you admitted. This caused Sami to raise her eyebrows.

“How do you mean? If you don’t mind, of course.” For a second, you pondered on whether or not you wanted to talk about it, but your doubt washed away pretty quickly. It was amazing how comfortable you felt around these people. You did look around the courtyard though, to make sure there was no one there that you didn’t want to hear what you were talking about. When you decided the coast was clear, you let out a sigh before you spoke.

“Well, on Thursday, I was sent a picture,” you started, feeling the pang in your chest, but not as fiercely as you did yesterday. “It was of Shawn making out with some girl. I’m guessing it was one of his friends who sent it to me, but it wasn’t from a number I had saved. I’m also assuming that whoever it was that sent the picture also sent it to a lot of people. I got a lot of messages that night from people I’d maybe spoken to once about what happened, but the thing is, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t want Shawn’s explanation, because I didn’t think he’d be truly honest, and I wasn’t sure who to ask about it. Shawn’s friends would probably defend him.”

Sami’s face turned to one of deep thought, as if she was trying to solve some kind of puzzle. 

“Did you think about texting the sender?” Alan asked. When he said it, you felt kind of dumb for not thinking about it.

“I did not,” you admitted.

“I can write something up for you,” Sami offered. “That way you don’t have to look at the picture again.” You shrugged, and handed your phone to Sami, who took it in her hands, bringing it close to her face. She tapped on what you assumed was the conversation with the sender, and for a moment, you could have sworn there was shock in her eyes. If it had been there, it didn’t last, as her face instantly went back to the one of thought. She hesitated a moment, then started typing away.

“How does this sound: Hey, I want to thank you for sending this. Do you mind telling me how you came upon this picture?” She said aloud.

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” you said. Sami tapped the screen again, sending the message, before handing your phone back to you. A part of you felt a little anxious. On the one hand, you wanted to know the story behind the photo, but at the same time, you wanted to remain willfully ignorant. It mostly branched from a fear inside you that he’d been cheating for a long time. 

However, the rest of lunch passed, and you hadn’t received any messages. While it was a little relieving, it still added on to the anxiety that had settled in the pit of your stomach. You tried to ignore it though, as you and Kylo headed to physics, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. 

When you got to Mr. Windu’s class, the two of you took your seats, while people whispered from around the room.

“Can you believe she’s hanging out with him now?”

“She really shouldn’t lower her standards like that just because of what happened.”

The last one had you whipping around, trying to find the person who said it. Everyone looked away when you did, though, so there was no clear suspect, but it didn’t prevent you from glaring at everyone around the room. At least, you did until you saw Shawn walk in. Once you caught even the slightest glimpse out of the corner of your eye, you turned back around, boiling in your anger.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kylo said softly, unbothered by the whispers. “I’m the town disappointment, of course they’re going to say that.” You looked up at Kylo and frowned. 

“What makes them so holy to pass judgement like that? I’m sure they’ve all done fucked up shit too, their parents just aren’t as in the spotlight as yours,” you huffed out as Mr. Windu began to take roll. 

When Mr. Windu’s lecture started, you were your normal studious self, taking detailed notes and making sure to get any equations down. Every once in a while, you would look over to Kylo’s notes and noticed the bare minimum of notes being taken. At one point, you looked at him incredulously. He simply shrugged before writing in the margins of your notes.

I’ve always been good at science. You let out a small huff of air before writing back.

Lucky. Kylo smiled before looking back up at the board, where Mr. Windu was writing another equation. 

When the bell rang, you quickly shoved your stuff into your backpack, and waited for Kylo so the two of you could get to fourth block. Once Kylo had his stuff packed, the two of you were off. You were free, at least that was what you thought. The notion of freedom disappeared when you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks, and for Kylo to stop as well. Turning around, you had to resist the incredible urge to punch Shawn in the face.

“You haven’t been responding to my messages,” he stated. He was obviously trying to sound hurt, but you could hear that hint of anger in his voice. It was something you were familiar with, but it was weird for it to be directed at you.

“Fuck off, Alvarez,” Kylo said, stepping forward, his figure looming over you. You looked up at Kylo and shook your head. 

“I don’t remember asking your opinion, Solo,” Shawn said, trying to puff out his chest. It was kind of funny to see, honestly, because he was at least six inches shorter than Kylo. Despite how funny a part of you found Shawn’s response, though, you stepped between them. 

“Have you considered that the reason I haven’t responded to you is because I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say?” You finally said, crossing your arms as you looked at Shawn. Looking at him straight on like this for the first time in a week was causing your stomach to churn, and your heart to clench, but you were tired, in every sense of the word. You just wanted to be left alone to deal with your emotions, and not have him harassing you every three seconds.

“You have to let me explain myself-” he started, but you let out a laugh, one of those laughs that dripped of sarcasm and anger.

“I don’t have to let you do shit. You cheated on me, end of story. Please, just leave me alone,” you said before turning around and walking off. After a few seconds, you heard Kylo begin to follow you, catching up to you with ease and falling into step beside you, not saying a word. You appreciated that, as you were trying your hardest not to cry. As much as you thought your anger had taken over your sadness, it was really just a blanket. At this moment, it felt like you were shriveling from the inside, and anything said to you would immediately cause you to start sobbing. It was a special kind of hurt, being cheated on. So many emotions ran through your head, but the one that remained in your heart always lingered; why weren’t you enough?

The two of you walked into fourth block not but two minutes before the bell rang. You took the same seat you sat in yesterday, and settled in your seat, breathing deeply to keep yourself calm. You saw Sami and Phasma both look at Kylo, confused looks on their faces. Kylo merely shook his head before pulling out a notebook. Taking one final deep breath, you did the same, sitting straight as you waited for Mr. Skywalker to call roll.

Once he’d done so, he picked up a crate, placing it on the desk nearest to him.

“Alright, go ahead, come up, and grab your copy of Beowulf,” he said.

“I’ll get them.” Kylo said as he stood, walking up to the crate and waiting behind your other classmates as he waited to grab the books. When he came back, he handed a book to each of you, and you gave him a half smile. It was all you could really manage, but Kylo matched it with a little more enthusiasm than you. 

Once everyone had their books, Mr. Skywalker decided to go into the history of Beowulf. However, during his explanation, you began to zone out. You really just wanted to go home, curl up in your room, and sleep until tomorrow came. You did feel a hand tap you, and you turned to Kylo, who was holding out a slip of paper to you, while keeping his eyes on the board. You took the folded paper from his hand, and opened it up. On the paper were two phone numbers, the top one being Phasma’s, and the lower being Sami’s. You typed both into your phone and sent a simple “hey” to each number. Sami responded back.

You okay?

With a sigh, you started typing on your keyboard.

Yeah, just had a run-in with my ex. You watched Sami out of the corner of your eye as she read your message and responded.

Shit, I’m sorry. She then sent a picture of a ridiculously fat cat, which actually did make you smile. 

The rest of class passed by pretty quickly, even after the class started the beginning of the poem aloud, which, like anyone else, you had to admit was the worst part of class. When Mr. Skywalker had decided the class had done enough reading, everyone began to pack up as they waited for the final bell to ring to let them out of class. Phasma and Sami both turned around in their seats to strike conversation for the last few minutes of class. 

“Glad that’s over,” Phasma said, frowning. “Why do we have to read aloud in the first place?”

“Torture,” Sami said sagely. “We’re meant to suffer.”

“Pretty sure it’s so that people can gain confidence reading aloud and speaking in front of a crowd,” Kylo said as he leaned back in his seat, looking at his phone.

“What academic input, truly an improvement for such a delinquent,” Phasma quipped, causing Kylo to look up from his phone, eyebrows raised, before returning to staring at the screen. “So, I heard you’re coming to Jordan’s on Friday.” Phasma now turned to you.

“Yeah. I’m actually pretty excited,” you said, leaning forward to feel more present in the conversation. 

“As you should be, Jordan knows how to have fun,” Sami said, making herself sound like an expert in the subject of Jordan. You laughed as the bell rang, standing up and stretching before slinging your backpack onto your shoulder. You watched as Finn, Poe, Rey, and Rose all walked by, waving at you as they went. You waved back to each of them, but frowned a little once they’d passed. You hadn’t really spoken to them much since Thursday, and you felt kinda bad about it. You would talk to them tonight, you decided. 

Soon, the four of you filed out of the classroom, walking at a comfortable pace as Kylo and Phasma walked together, talking about skating. You and Sami walked side by side in silence, until Sami leaned closer to you, so that the two in front of you couldn’t hear.

“I think I know who the girl in the picture is. Text me when you get home,” she said before drifting away again. You felt your chest tighten, but you only nodded, deciding to change the subject.

“I’m gonna tell my mom I’m staying at your place Friday night when I get home. She’s a little weird about sleepovers, so she might want to talk to you,” you said as your group reached the front of the school. 

“Hey, I can probably just tell my grandparents that the three of us are gonna study at your place,” Kylo offered. 

“Yeah, that works. After all, I am the only one of your friends who hasn’t wound up with the title ‘delinquent,’” Sami quipped. Kylo gave a frown in response, before stopping in front of the entrance to the school. 

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kylo said. The two of you waved goodbye before heading to Kylo’s car. There was silence at first as the two of you climbed into the car, and Kylo started the engine, but it was broken with a sigh from Kylo.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. If Shawn’s just gonna harass you for even being around me, it isn’t really worth it,” he said, pulling out of his parking spot. You couldn’t help but let out your own sigh.

“That’s not the reason he’s harassing me,” you started. “He’s harassing me because he thinks he can still control me, and convince me that he didn’t mean it. Honestly, the easiest way to get him to leave me alone is if we stick to the plan.” It was a frustrating realization, but it was certainly true. If Shawn thought you had moved on, he was probably more likely to leave you alone. Sure, he’d probably have some choice words to say about you, but you seriously doubted that he’d say them to your face. 

The rest of the drive home was spent with the music loud, Kylo occasionally singing along softly. When the two of you pulled into the driveway, you waited before stepping out, and turned to Kylo.

“Thanks for sticking up for me again. You really don’t have to do that,” you said. Kylo shook his head and ran a hand through his ebony hair.

“You’re my friend, (y/n). I’ll always stick up for you,” he responded before turning the car off. You gave him a small smile before opening the door.

“See you in the morning,” you said before stepping out.

“See ya, bright and early,” he responded with a smirk. You shook your head as you turned to head to your house.

Upon walking in the door, you saw your mom sitting at the dining room table. She was looking at what looked to be some documents from work, but she looked up when you closed the door, and gave you a warm smile. 

Here goes, you thought to yourself before returning her smile, and walking up to the table.

“How was your day, honey?” she asked, shifting her attention to you. 

“It was good. Actually, my friend Sami invited me to stay at her place on Friday,” you responded. You actually felt a lot of anxiety in your chest, but you were trying your hardest not to let it show. You’d never really lied to your parents like this before, and it was strange for that to start your senior year, but you actually really wanted to go. The opportunity to hang out with your new set of friends, not to mention Kylo, was so exciting.

“Oh, is this that new friend you were talking about yesterday?” she asked. It almost looked like there was a great deal of happiness in her eyes. They practically lit up, and you couldn’t really say you blamed her. After all, after you’d gotten home on Thursday, you had shut yourself in your room, refusing to come out. Making new friends and being invited to one of their houses? It was definitely an upgrade. 

“Yeah. She’s really cool, and she’s trying to get into art school,” you said, smiling at your mom.

“Alright, but I want you to message me throughout the night. Are you gonna head home with her that night?” Your heart dropped at that. You hadn’t mentioned anything about Kylo- obviously- and you were supposed to be having dinner with the Skywalkers on Friday as well. There really was no point in lying about that, it would be too easy to get caught.

“Actually, I’m supposed to have dinner with the Skywalkers next door that night, too. I’ve been getting rides from Ben, and his grandparents invited me to dinner,” you said, waiting for shit to hit the fan. Surprisingly, your mother’s face didn’t turn red, but she did frown.

“I don’t know about you hanging around with Ben Solo…” you could tell she was trying to be delicate, but there was no mistaking in her voice that she felt the same way about him that all the parents did. You knew another lie was needed in this scenario too.

“He has been giving me rides, and they really just want us to be friends because they think I’ll make him be a little more responsible. But he did offer to take me to Sami’s house too. I promise, when I get there, I’ll take a picture with Sami and send it to you,” you said. You could see the cogs turning over in her head as she thought it over. When she finally let out a sigh, you knew she had relented.

“Alright, but I want to see you after dinner, before you leave for Sami’s, okay?” she said. You smiled and nodded before turning on your heels, heading for the stairs.

“I’m gonna go ahead and get started on dinner,” she called as you practically skipped up the stairs. 

When you got into your room, you let your backpack fall to the ground before plopping onto your bed and pulling your phone. You had two messages. One was from Sami, and you remembered what she had told you earlier. With a pang in your chest, your excitement for Friday extinguished, you decided to look at the other message.

It was from the sender of the picture.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

GET YOU THE MOON.

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader

Song-fic: “Get you the moon” by Kina (cover)

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with bishops where you are curled up on his lap, your face buried in his neck while he is working for something for the club on templo

Word Count: 1.3k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @arved ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You gave me a shoulder when I needed it.

💬: “Mommy, daddy is having a mental breakdown”.

When your phone dings with Taza’s notification, you pause the movie to hold it and read the message. This is a red code. And doesn’t matter how far you are, nor what are you doing.

You showed me love when I wasn't feeling it.

The blankets tangled on your feet fly off of the bed, jumping your body out of it to find some clothes to wear. Of course, using one of his shirt. Bishop sees it as a way of marking his territory, so you grab his favourite one. His smell on it almost dizzy you. You’re obsessed with it, and you’re not even ashamed of recognize it. Your legs move faster than usually, putting your sneakers on while you’re trying to walk towards the entrance. Helmet on and keys in your left hand, you keep the phone inside a pocket, closing the door by your back. It’s cold. It’s raining. But you could cross swimming the ocean, if he needs it. That’s love. The purest one.

You helped me fight when I was giving in.

On moments like that, you usually remember the day you met. It was a summer night in Playa del Carmen, part of the Riviera Maya in México. You found him sitting on the beach shore, with a leather kutte over the sand, by his side, drinking from a tequila bottle in complete silence. His gaze was on the horizon, watching the moon glowing in the dark. It was almost half past three am, and you went out for a walk after a long and dire day. For some reason, you felt the need of sitting next to him, taking off a cigar packet to offer him. Without looking at you, he grabbed one giving you the tequila in somekind of exchange. Looked like you were on the same orbit of tiredness and stress, so you didn’t need any words. After seeing how it dawns, he took you home. Three months passed before you saw each other again. Since then, Bishop only has left your side for a ride out of Santo Padre.

And you made me laugh when I was losing it.

The road looks shorter than other days, driving as fast as you can, to reach the clubhouse. The crew is sitting on the porch with gloomy looks on his faces, but that change when you finally come. Taza gets up from his seat, leaving away the beer he was drinking, walking towards you with open arms a little bit confused with the situation.

“I don’t know what happened. He just… collapsed”.

“How bad is it?”

“We came four hours ago and he got locked in the Templo”. He sighs rubbing his forehead somewhat desperate. “He’s with the head on the table, in his arms. No beer, no tequila, no cigars. Nothing. I don’t even know if he’s awake, sleeping or dead”.

You nod in silence cross-armed, taking off your phone of the pocket, so you can purchase for two plane tickets. When it’s done already, you raise your eyes at his face.

“Call the charters, tell them that Bishop and I have to go for four days. He’s not even taking his phone with him, and I don’t give a shit about the club while we’re out”.

Taza doesn’t need to say anything, seeing you turn over your feet and walking back to your bike. You know exactly what you have to do and what he needs. You could rip off your heart to give it to him, if he asks you to do it. He saved you that night without knowing it. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Bishop. And you’re probably gonna get a cold because of the rain in your way back home, but this is on the background. Reaching your house and parking the motorbike inside of the garage, you walk to the main room putting a suitcase on the bed. Keeping there clothes for both, you hold the passport and some money from the safe box to put it inside your bag. Once you’re ready and sure that you are carrying everything you could need, you continue your steps to the black Mustang parked in front of your house.

‘Cause you are, the reason why I'm still hanging on.

The crew is waiting you to leave the clubhouse, so you can have the loneliness Bishop truly needs at this moment. All the bikes roar at the same time, passing you away and parking your car where they were. Chucky palms your shoulder, walking to the car scrapping to stay in the office, till you leave. With calm steps, you go to the Templo, opening the glass door slowly. He’s there almost in the dark. And he don’t move a single inch even knowing that it’s you. He can smell that jasmine perfume he bought you as the first present, ‘cause you were wearing one of its flowers on your hair the night you met. You only use it with red codes. Taking off your jacket and leaving it on a chair, you put a hand on his nape to caress him softly with your fingertips.

“Muévete, mi amor”. (Move, my love) Whispering it, he takes it as a command.

Then, you sit on his lap curling against his chest.

‘Cause you are the reason why my head is still above water.

Tangling your fingers with his and surrounding your body with his arms, you sink your face on his neck. He sighs somewhat comforted. Your lips kissing his skin so gently and slow that you can feel his carotid beating by the pulse. His whole body starts to get relaxed, closing his eyes and focusing in every touch of your fingers caressing his, without caring about the time, the place or of the people around you. As if you were alone in the world and there wasn’t any trouble, nor danger, that could hurt him.

And if I could I'd get you the moon, and give it to you.

You don’t need to ask what’s happening to him. He’s human. He has a lot of weight above his shoulders and, sometimes, he feels weak. He needs to be saved too. So you do. Your presence is all he ask for, even if he doesn’t use any words. Sometimes he feels that he’s not good enough for anything that surrounds him. Sometimes he feels lost, blind, tired. Sometimes he just need a hug, ‘cause he’s not a superhero. He’s just a man fighting for a future for his family. Maybe, not in the correct way, but who cares? Not you. Not even when he comes home and you’re waiting him to take care of the wounds on his skin and on his soul.

And if death was coming for you, I'd give my life for you.

“¿Crees en el destino?” (Do you believe in destiny?) Another whisper comes out of your lips, getting somewhat comfy against his body, but raising your gaze to the dimmer one.

“Empecé a hacerlo cuando te conocí”. (I started to do it, when I met you). He nods leaving a soft caress on your cheek, resting it on his palm before kissing it with all the love you can feel for this man.

'Cause you…

“La maleta está en el carro y los billetes en mi celular”. (I have the suitcase in the car and the plane tickets in my phone). Those words make Bishop draw a fleeting smile. “Si salimos ahora, aún tenemos tiempo de cenar en el aeropuerto de San Diego. ¿Qué dices?”. (If we go now, we have time to have some dinner in San Diego’s airport. What ‘you say?)

“Contigo hasta el fin del mundo”. (With you till the end of the world).