#Craggy family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

discordantwritings · 2 months

Text

The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 1 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: this chapter is SFW but the next one won’t be so still MDNI 18+, gn afab! Reader, Dragon Shifter! Sir Crocodile, the power dynamics are whack in this one not gonna lie, canon typical violence, Crocodile calls you pet

WC: 4.6k

Summary: You’re set to be sacrificed to the fearsome Dragon of the Sands as a tribute for your town. When you get down to the caves and get face to face with him however- you make a different choice.

Notes: this fic is for me ngl this is just me fully shoving my monsterfucking dragon loving desires onto sir crocodile and I hope other people like it

You knew long before your name was called that you were going to be the tribute to the sand dragon. No living family, you worked a non-essential job, healthy enough to make the journey to his cave- you checked all the sacrificial boxes. No one else seemed surprised either, very few people made the effort to even look sad for you. It was something that you were used to since you never made the effort to connect with anyone in your town.

You were independent- a symptom of your parents dying young and you having no family to take you in. No one else made the effort to help you, so you made no effort to help them whenever situations came up. You didn’t hate anyone, and no one hated you, but there was a large gap that you accepted a long time ago.

So when it was time to select a human tribute for the terrifying sand dragon that made his home in the caverns miles from your town- a ritual that happened once every 5 years to appease him on top of the annual gold tribute- everyone knew it was you. You had your bags packed at home already- not that you needed to pack much. The journey would take a day on horseback and as you strapped your bags to the horse’s saddle you couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

A sacrifice to be eaten, just like you.

A few people saw you off, mostly to be polite. A small token of appreciation to the person who was going to die so they could live worry free for another few years. It meant nothing to you.

The journey was painfully uneventful. Miles of sand dusting over craggy rocks with no other life in sight. You had hoped for something- anything- to keep your thoughts away from your impending doom but you never got that reprieve. So you stirred, and thought, and stewed until resentment and anger came bubbling up.

Why did you have to die? Just because your life sucked already? Because there was no one to stick up for you? Years of being alone suddenly tore through you- sadness hardening over into anger.

And then something else.

You don’t know what it is yet but it drives you to continue your journey until you reach the giant cavern opening jutting out of the dunes and rocks. You leave the horse at the entrance just underneath the lip of the cavern for some shade. Giving her your remaining water you leave her untied, hoping she’ll have a better chance than you.

It’s a long and dark journey down into the caverns below the desert, a single torch lighting your way. At first it was just rocks and sand lining the path down but soon it turned to bones and dented armor. You don’t look down for too long, knowing you’ll lose your nerve if you have to look at the discarded bodies knowing your skeleton might soon reside with them.

It takes you an hour, maybe, time is hard to gauge down here, to get to the first opening. Your torch lights only a fraction of the vast cavern but you quickly find you don’t need it- golden braziers line the stone walls and flicker with fire illuminating the space.

Initially you wonder if you were somehow transported somewhere else- because a place this nice existing in a deep underground cavern was vexing. The stone floor was covered in the most luxurious rugs you’ve ever seen. Deep reds, golds, and blacks overlap and you fight the urge to run your hands over the fabric. Mismatched furniture liters the space- all expensive in their own rights but seemingly misplaced as none of them are quite set up in a logical formation. A pleasant humidity hangs in the air and you look and see a small natural fountain in one of the far corners of the cave. On the opposite side of that there’s another tunnel that seems to continue down further into the earth.

What use does a dragon have for a living room?

“Seems like a little morsel has arrived at my doorstep.” A low voice echoes off the dark stone walls and practically shakes the ground you’re standing on. It’s hard to deny the deep instinct to run away- all of the cells in your body signal to you that this is a predator and you are prey.

From the far tunnel you hear the distinct sound of claws against stone and you know he’s coming. You hold your breath as a giant crocodile-esque head slides into view. If it wasn’t for the sheer size of this creature you think you could mistake him for a crocodile- the long flat snout and smooth scales resembling a mosaic across dark green skin. But the way the scales shine like emeralds flecked with gold set him apart. As his legs come into view your eyes are drawn to his front left leg. In contrast to the dark green of the rest of his body his front left leg from the elbow down was a bright shimmering gold. It almost seemed liquid the way it connected with his body but the way it landed with a hard thud with each step solidified its hardness. A deep gash ran across his snout, dull and long healed over. Bat like wings folded against his long body as he finally made the last few strides into the cavern with you.

It’s hard not to be in awe of a creature so terrifying yet stunning- fear overloading and loosing all meaning and giving way to appreciation. Colorless eyes lock in on you and his pupils contract into slivers. You truly and deeply feel like prey under his gaze.

“Your heart is beating so fast little tribute. Will you run? Will you fight? Or are you just going to stand there and let me eat you? I do love seeing how your little human brains scramble…” His maw opens and you see large, shining teeth- each probably as big as you. You’re not sure if a dragon can smile but you get the impression from his voice that he is, there must be something deeply amusing to him to see you falter under his gaze.

You don’t know what comes over you. That emotion that had puzzled you for the last day now rips up and into your throat, saying works your brain hasn’t even processed.

“What if I can make myself useful to you.”

Defiance.

That catches him off guard, his large head tilting slightly. He’s only confused for a second before he chuckles, a deep sound that shakes your ribcage. “Well this is new. And what do you think you could possibly do for me?”

And now your brain has caught up, desperately searching for good answers. “I can cook, I can clean, I can organize- I’m sure a dragon as important as yourself has much better things to do than worry about the day to day.”

There’s a painful silence as the dragon mauls over your answer, terrifying eyes dragging over your form. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself grounded.

“I have to admit, it is an interesting proposition.” He steps closer and lowers his head to the ground, jaws only a few feet from you. “It wouldn’t be a good life, serving under me.”

“It would be a life.”

“I guess it would.” You feel the heat of his breath wash over you. “If you ever underperform I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“I understand.”

“And you will do whatever I ask?”

“I will.”

“Then we have a deal.”

You feel like you’ve just sold your soul to the devil. In a way, you probably have. But you don’t feel bad about it at all.

His head swings up and away from you, standing up and nearly scraping the ceiling. “You’ll stay in here until I clear out a space for you. I’ll lay out where you can and cannot go and what your daily routine should be.”

You nod, knowing he probably doesn’t need to hear much more from you.

“Get some rest. I’ll start working you to the bone tomorrow.”

And with that he leaves you, thundering steps disappearing into the depths of the further tunnels. When you can no longer hear and feel the steps you collapse to the ground, exhausted from bargaining for your life. Every muscle in your body had been tensed and you work your way through your body, individually willing your body to relax.

This was your life now. You needed to get used to this fucked up situation very fast.

Gathering yourself you find the largest couch and drag it over by the fountain and begin putting together your makeshift bed. It was surprisingly comfortable and the sound of running water did a lot to block out your worst thoughts.

You shut your eyes and before you know it a sleep of sheer exhaustion catches you, dragging you down into unconsciousness.

You’re not sure how much sleep you got, there was no way to tell the time this deep underground. But you feel as rested as you probably could get under the circumstances and quickly move the couch back to where you found it before the dragon could come and see you’ve disturbed his room. Piling your stuff neatly behind a rock on along the wall of the cavern you wait for your instructions.

You pace the heavily rugged floor trying to keep an ear out for the distinctive sound of a dragon approaching. You don’t have to wait too long for some noise- but it’s not what you expect. You hear regular human foot steps echo through the far tunnel- are you not the only human here? Did someone sneak past you in the middle of the night? All your questions are stopped in their tracks when a man walks out of the tunnel.

Well, not quite a man.

He’s mostly human, standing on two legs with tanned skin and slicked back black hair. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a fur lined cloak covering his broad shoulders. But of course- there were the other features. You first notice his hands- one covered in green scales and ending in sharp claws, the other a molten gold molded into similar claws. His ears are longer and more pointed than a humans and across his face is a long dark scar. And of course you can’t miss the thick crocodile tail dragging behind him, the same deep emerald green scales of the dragon you faced yesterday.

As he walks closer you notice that he’s still so much bigger than you- towering over your form by three feet or more. His eyes had the same reptilian slit to them as he looked you up and down.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d think you’d be remiss not to call him handsome. But the fear for your life drowns out most of those traitorous thoughts.

“Surprised to see you didn’t try and scamper off during the night.” His voice, while certainly not as loud, still resonates deep in your chest as it echoes off the tall stone walls of the cavern.

“I made a deal, I intend to see it through.” You make the choice not to look him in the eyes out of fear of disrespecting him.

“Good to see you have some sense. Here.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out a rolled up piece of paper. You take it and unfold it and see a map. “This is your map of my lair. I’ve labeled the caverns you can go in and which ones you can’t. You step a single foot into somewhere you’re not supposed to be- I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.” You reply, looking over the map. You knew this place had to be massive but looking over the paper in your hand it was so much vaster than you imagined. Dozens of caves and tunnels interlinking, going over and under each other. It made your head swim.

“I’ll guide you to the important rooms so you don’t get lost. But after that I expect you to be able to navigate on your own.” He starts walking and you follow close behind as you try and track where you’re going on the map.

You travel down deep, following him as he quickly navigates the tunnels. Thankfully everything is lit by the same type of flaming braziers that are in the large entrance cavern.

“You don’t need to worry about preparing food for me- I only eat every few months and I eat more than you could possibly physically handle. You’re here to keep my lair neat and organized. Initial cleaning of the caverns I indicate and then if you do a good job- and only if- you can begin cataloguing my hoard.” He doesn’t make any effort to speak directly to you or to make sure you’re matching his pace.

“Yes my… lord?” It comes off more of a question as you quickly realize you have no idea what to refer to him as.

He stops in his tracks so abruptly you almost collide with his tail, but thankfully you’re able to stop just short. “This is the dry food storage, silly human foods that they leave as tribute. Should be enough for you to live on.”

You peek in, expecting a sparse and dingy space but are pleasantly surprised when you see all manner of foods. Beans, grains, dried fruits, spices, and probably more in the dark wooden cabinets and shelves. You only have that brief moment before he is walking off again and you hastily follow.

“Sir Crocodile. That’s the best name you humans have given me, so you can refer to me as such. My true name is unpronounceable for human forms.”

You nod, not like he can see you but better safe than sorry. Only a few tunnels later he stops again and points to the smallest cavern yet. It’s not actually small by most definitions of the word but as you gaze in you might actually call it cozy.

There’s a mismatch of elegant furniture piled in there- a dresser, a cabinet, a large bed, and rugs covering the stone floor. The bed is unmade but linens sit on top of it and even from this distance you know they are higher quality than you have ever even seen.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping and existing when not performing your duties. I don’t want you out wandering when I haven’t assigned you something.” And then he’s back to walking. You were expecting to just be thrown in a bare room but seemingly he put forth some effort… you’re not sure what to think about that.

The next stretch of your journey is long and you purposefully make sure your eyes don’t wander into any caverns you’re not stopping at. You focus on tracing your path, finger dragging along the rough paper of the map as you go.

“This is the last cave you’ll be allowed in until you prove yourself trustworthy.” He stops and finally fully turns around to face you. “This is my surplus- the stuff left to me that I deemed not worthy of my hoard. It’s been sitting and collecting dust for too long. I need to know what exactly is here and if I should keep it in storage or dispose of it. After you’re done cleaning the previous spaces and the tunnels between you can get to work on organizing and cataloging everything in here.”

To call this place a mess would be kind. Layers of junk and books haphazardly thrown into a cave that you honestly can’t tell the size of. There’s only room to get maybe five feet through the entrance before the wall of stuff is piled nearly as high as the ceiling. And on top of everything is a thick layer of dust and dirt. This might take your lifetime to sort through.

You turn your glance back to Sir Crocodile and realize he’s been carefully watching you this whole time, sharp gaze dragging over your body. Suddenly it’s ten degrees hotter in the tunnel and you force your eyes back to the ground. Did he purposefully make his human form attractive or was that just the default? And why did you even find the creature that could kill you without a second thought attractive. Stupid stupid base instincts.

“I suggest you clean the tunnels first so you learn your way. Then the entrance, food storage, and lastly here. You clean your room on your own time. I expect you to work at least eight hours a day- keep track with this.” That golden clawed hand extends out and you see a pocket watch settled in his palm. You reach out and take it, fingertips gliding over the cold metal of his hand.

“Thank you sir.” Pressing the small button on the top you find out what time it is- just before noon.

“Do your best not to make too much noise. If there is something so completely wrong you cannot deal with yourself just yell. I will hear. Just like I will hear if you try to leave, understood?”

“Yes.” Silence hangs awkwardly in the air and you look upward for a second to see him glaring down at you.

“Yes sir.” You correct, and his face returns to neutral.

“Alright, don’t make yourself too comfortable. I’ll check back soon.” And with that he turns and walks away, down a tunnel that you don’t have permission to tread into.

You let out a long breath, taking in all of the information he’s just given you. Using your map you (slowly) make your way back up through the tunnels to where you started. As you passed by the few spaces you were allowed in you couldn’t help but think about how much better this whole situation was than you expected.

Sure, scrubbing rock for weeks wouldn’t be fun but you expected much worse like cleaning his scales or butchering meals. You even had a space of your own that rivaled your room back home. Of course there’s no sunlight and you have the hanging threat of being eaten alive but you can’t help but feel a weird sense of relief. It’s not like you have anyone that you miss or responsibilities that you’ve left behind. This was just the newest (and incredibly bizarre) chapter in your life.

Well.

Time to get cleaning.

It takes you two weeks to clean the entrance, food storage, and the tunnels connecting them all. You worked more than your mandatory hours- what else were you going to do anyways, stare at stone walls? The work wasn’t fun by any means, dragging water to and from the fountain in the entrance cave was a serious workout, but there was something fulfilling once you were completely done with a space.

The entrance was the easiest given the water source was right there. You had taken one of the worse looking rugs and ripped it up to use as you cloths figuring you shouldn’t pester Sir Crocodile for cleaning supplies when you could figure out something on your own. Once everything had been as cleared of sand and dust as it could get you got to organize out the room- something actually a little fun.

You matched together furniture and set it up perfectly for gatherings. Not like there was actually ever going to be a gathering but at least your arrangement will never be messed up. You made sure to leave ample room for a dragon sized being to make it from the far tunnel to the exit- he probably leaves at some point.

The food storage wasn’t that bad either. You worked your way through it in between cleaning the entry cave and the tunnels, mostly when it was time to eat. There was a huge variety of food, most expensive and long lasting. It made sense, given that it was meant for Sir Crocodile and that no one would offer him anything less than their best for fear of being eaten. You were eating better than you had been in a while.

Throwing yourself into the work you could nearly forget why you were here in the first place. You hadn’t seen Sir Crocodile since he gave you that initial tour- you hadn’t even heard or felt movement deeper in the tunnels. Despite having no signs of him you could still feel his presence somehow. Every time you turned around you expected to see him standing there, judging you. But he never was. Maybe it was a sign you were doing a good enough job but you had no confidence in that.

No matter if your job was up to the correct standards or not you were onto your final task- cleaning and organizing the overstock. Far away the most daunting task. You have your bucket and cloths but honestly you have no idea where to start.

“From the top.” That deep voice comes from right behind you and the yelp that leaves you as you jump is mortifying.

You whip around and see Sir Crocodile in his humanoid form, clearly pleased with the reaction he got from you. He’s got a nasty grin, showing that his teeth are just as sharp as they are in his draconic form.

“I’m sorry sir?” You do your best to return your heart rate to its normal rhythm as you straighten yourself out.

“You were trying to figure out how to start here. From the top. Taking anything from the base even if it seems loose might cause the whole pile to collapse and crush you to death.” There’s a few terrifying seconds where you think he can read your mind but you shove that away- it was probably incredibly obvious how lost you were.

“Thank you sir.” It was probably simple advice but getting a clear starting point was relieving.

“Of course, I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”

Your brain struggles to process that statement, a weird mix of emotions swirling in your stomach at his words. You shove it all down for now- you can parse through that later.

“I’m glad my work is up to your standards sir. Was there something you needed?” Your hands grip your water bucket tight as his gaze bores into you.

“I’m just making sure that you are still aware of my presence. For a human though, you do seem pretty competent. You haven’t even tried to run away once.” He steps closer to you, invading your space. “Why is that?”

“I-“ You suck in a breath as you try and fight the urge to cower. “I have nothing to go back to.”

His pupils are narrow slits as they rake over your face for a few painfully silent moments. He then straightens up, barely exiting your personal space. “Interesting.”

He turns and slowly walks away, a clawed hand waving in the air. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You finally exhale when he leaves the space, able to relax just a bit. Shoving down all your thoughts for now you focus on cleaning in a way that doesn’t destabilize the pile and crush you. It works for a while as a distraction but you slowly lose your focus and need to stop for the day.

It wasn’t until you were tucked in bed that you allowed your emotions to surface.

“I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”

It should disgust you to be called a pet. It should be dehumanizing and humiliating to have someone else look at you and see you as something so small, something they own. You search and hope that’s what’s churning deep in your stomach.

It’s not.

A shameful realization washes over you as the words repeat in your head, that low, terrifying voice somehow praising you while putting you down. You weren’t disgusted.

Heat pools in the pit of your body, a sick reaction you couldn’t will away.

You loved when he called you his pet.

You were fucked.

For the next few weeks your work slowed considerably. Not because you were less motivated- but because the overstock room had so many wonderful things. Sure there was a fair share of junk- broken porcelain dishes, rotting wooden statues, things that are so beaten you can’t even hope to identify. But the things that aren’t junk are fascinating.

You find trinkets and toys that spin and dance in ways you can’t figure out. Jewelry that despite being dusty, rusted, or dented was still gorgeous. Hand woven blankets and rugs that you could see the time and energy put in despite the holes and fraying edges. And then there were the books.

Most were non-fiction and on topics you could have only ever hoped to have learned about. From science to history to mathematics and everything in between every single page was fascinating. Every day you collected all the new books you would find and saved them for yourself later.

You’ve made yourself a reading corner in that cavern- cast off rugs and blankets folded and placed over the stone so you can sit somewhat comfortably. You fall back to only working your exact hours so you can spend the rest of your time reading. Pages old and new fill your head and you can only wonder that if these were the books dismissed by the sand dragon- what books lay in his true hoard?

“And what are you doing?” How someone so large continues to sneak up on you you’ll never understand.

You jump up, fear gripping your chest as he catches you decidedly not working. His face is decidedly unamused and you think that maybe you’ve really fucked up.

“I-“ For a second you debate lying, debate saying that you were thumbing through the pages to properly organize the book. But you aren’t the best liar- certainly not in the face of someone so terrifying. “I’m spending my off time reading through some of your books sir. I figured asking if I could read through some of your spare books was a question I shouldn’t have bothered you with.”

“Smart move pet.” Your body relaxes slightly, having made the right move. “What are you reading?”

That question catches you off guard, not expecting him to care. “Oh, this is a book on astronomy.”

“And is that interesting to you?” You can’t tell if it’s just his natural tone that makes it sound almost like an accusation or if he’s judging you.

“It’s something I never had the chance to learn about before so I decided to take the opportunity to educate myself.”

Crocodile nods, seemingly pleased with your answer. “A good use of your spare time. Just don’t get carried away.”

“Yes, of course sir.”

And like that he’s gone again. The conversation lingers in your mind until the next day when you come back to the cavern to see a plush chair situated where your rugs had been set up.

You can’t stop yourself from flushing as you look over your gift. You try not to let your thoughts and emotions get away from you, there was probably a banal reason he put a chair in here for you. I mean, sitting on the floor was probably bad for your back and if it was bad for your back then your work could be impacted.

It’s that and not that he might care about you.

No matter what, reading is a lot nicer when you’re not sitting on a stone floor.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #dragon x reader

302 notes · View notes

honeybleed · 2 months

Text

series masterlist

content & warnings: fem!reader, suggestive, conflict (two emotionally constipated dumbasses discover they were playing each other), alcohol consumption, happy albeit corny ending! also i think in my last a/n i said this chapter would have smut yeah change of plans sorry y’all go here cos this needed to be wrapped up 🗿

author’s note: AND IT’S A WRAP BLOOD OF JESUS 😭😭😭 shit nearly took a year? i gotta work on my time management skills. THANK YOU TO EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT READ THIS, to the silent readers, the anons, the people who reblogged and liked and most importantly the people who left comments and feedback! love you ALL !! 💗

word count: 6.3k

𝐒𝐈𝐗

Contrary to rare belief you genuinely were a morning person.

But being up at almost four in the morning to set off for the car ride to Ace's family created an extreme aversion and you were close to crying with how much you missed your bed.

You were used to the metropolis of New York City, so the towering cliffs and jagged edges made you shrink into the seat with how intimidating and minuscule they made you feel beside Ace.

On the flip side, Ace seemed to be in his element as he grinned from ear to ear at the crisp air when he wound the window down slightly. Driving through rocky terrains would've been nerve-wracking for anybody, yet Ace was beyond exhilarated.

Navigating through the craggy landscape seemed to be light work for him. You would've marvelled at him if the incessant bumps and jolts weren't winding you up.

It wasn't his fault but you were getting irritated, especially when your elbow perched on the window pane in an attempt to get some shut eye it was floundered with every snag and shake.

"You good?"

"I think the coffee isn't helping." You snickered.

"Yeah..." Ace chuckled. "That'll do it every time."

He cleared his throat.

"Don't worry too much, alright? I know I kinda scared you off with my old stories but it'll be fine. I promise."

"...Thanks Ace." You beamed.

You figured you'd cut him some slack as you'd been a nightmare these past few days.

He parked the jeep and headed out to grab the bags. Your eyes were greeted at the cabin nestled deep within the rugged embrace of the mountains.

"Ma! I'm home!" Ace called out as he dumped his luggage in the hallway of the cabin as he barged in and you timidly followed after him.

Your eyes widened when your eyes settled on the woman before you.

You'd never seen somebody so tall before. And imposing. She sat with her hands on her knees, cigarette hanging from her lips.

The living area she was sitting in had stone hearths anchored on either end of the room, the roaring fires casting a warm glow over plush leather furnishings and richly woven rugs that covered the hardwood floors.

"Eh? What the hell are you doin' here? I ain't got money so beat it." She said gruffly.

"I ain't some sorta beggar, Ma! When's the last time I even asked for money, huh?" Ace shot back, hands on his hips. Slightly offended at her insinuation. "Is this how you treat your son?"

"Whatever. Ah!"

She immediately broke into a smile when her eyes fixated on you.

"This must be Y/N! Oh, she's even more prettier than I imagined!" Dadan smiled.

"How do you know her again...?" Ace asked, a little bewildered.

"When I compiled the photo album of us, duh!" You grinned. You pushed past Ace to make your way over to Dadan, who immediately pulled you into her embrace.

You felt the wind in your chest knocked out, coughing but it was heartwarming all the same.

"What do you see in him, eh?" She questioned as she stroked your face.

"Ma!" Ace barked.

"What? You're punching above your weight with this one."

"Aw, don't say that!" You giggled at Ace's pouting and Dadan showering you with compliments. "Ace is very handsome...and he has his sweet moments."

"Where the hell is Luffy?" Ace questioned, stretching his arms.

"God knows where that runt is." Dadan grumbled as she released you from her iron grip. "He'll be back in no time if we cook dinner."

Ace's eyes twinkled as he looked at you.

"God, I can't wait for you to meet him." He chuckled.

Luffy was Ace's pride and joy. For the entirety of the car ride in the mountain terrains, Ace would not stop raving about Luffy.

"You have favorites I see." You remarked.

"Nah, nah. Me and Sabo just promised to be the best big brothers Luffy has ever had." Ace chortled.

"Where is Sabo?" You asked.

"Is that why you both gathered here?" She said irritated.

"Shit, he's here? Looks like we got a full house!" Ace said with a broad smile, overjoyed at the aspect of you getting to meet both of his beloved brothers at the same time.

"How long you stayin' here again?" Dadan questioned, returning to her intimidating nature once again.

"Nice to know I'm welcome here." Ace muttered under his breath. "But for the weekend. Alright?"

"Fine by me." She said bluntly.

A loud voice boomed and Ace immediately bounded to the other side of the room, throwing himself at the blond figure.

"What are you doin' here?!" He laughed as he clutched onto him.

"Just had a gut feeling you were gonna turn up...!" Sabo chuckled. "Nice to see you, love." He said as he turned to you.

Ace and Sabo were both average-height men but it was funny seeing Ace clamber on Sabo.

Your eyes flickered to a youthful-looking boy with unruly black hair like Ace's.

"This must be Luffy." You thought to yourself, as Ace's apartment had many framed photos of the three.

"Eh? Whose this?" He questioned as his eyebrows furrowed.

"This is Y/N." Ace grinned as he draped an arm over your shoulder.

"That's weird! Ace never brings people around!" Luffy said with a hearty chuckle as he threw his head back. "He's always hangin' out with my friends."

Ace's cheeks dusted pink.

"Hey! You tryna say I ain't got friends?!" He snapped as he gave Luffy a headlock and a rough noogie, his bicep flexing.

"Quit it!" Luffy barked as he struggled in Ace's grip.

"Little shit used to always follow me around now he thinks he's popular." Ace said with a strained voice, grinning as he and Luffy tussled.

"He's kinda right, Ace. It was just you and me since age seven." Sabo teased. "And your work buddies don't count!"

The stories Ace had told you about the large family having downright banquets seem to come to life as you sat in between Luffy and Ace at dinner time.

It was a little bit of a sensory overload, what with the way laughter and shouts filled the air, Luffy's mouth was wide open as his chin trickled with grease and juices as he took giant chunks out of the meat.

"Be careful around this one. He'll swipe off your plate if you ain't lookin'!" Ace said as lifted your plate in the air, stopping Luffy from snatching the turkey leg.

"No fair, she's not even eating it!" Luffy pouted, causing Sabo to slap the back of Luffy's head.

Empty plates and dishes covered the long dining table, that was carved from a single slab of timber. You got up to take Ace and your plates, but instantly you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

"What are you doing?!" Sabo cried out, alarmed.

"...Tidying up after myself?" You responded, miffed at his reaction.

"Darlin', you're a guest here! None of that." Ace said as he clambered off the dining chair, gripping your hips for a split second. He planted a smooch on your cheek then snatched the plates from your grasp.

As the family got to work tidying, Ace gave you a look. You figured he was asking for you to come over and you obliged, stepping out of the home.

You were hit with the crisp air of the mountains as Ace pulled you close to him as you stood on the patio.

"Feel like taking a trip with me?" He said with a sly smile.

As you sat on the tree stump of the moonlit clearing, you looked up at the luminous blue skies with all the stars glittering above.

"You know, the air here is so much clearer than back in New York." You chuckled.

"I think anywhere has better air than New York." Ace snorted as he crossed his arms. "C'mon, I wanna show you somethin'!"

"Please don't get us killed." You groaned, getting up onto your feet. You followed after him, through the trees.

You stood behind him and were peering at the cliffs. Your jaw slightly agape at the waterfalls.

"I used to come here a lot. Fishing and swimming." Ace chuckled to himself as the memories rewinded in his mind of him, Luffy and Sabo.

Moonlight dappled through the thick canopy, casting playful patterns on the moss-covered ground.

You noticed in your peripherals Ace was beginning to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it on the marshy land then peeling off his shorts.

"What are you-"

Ace took off, hurdling towards and threw himself into the water with a mighty splash, water soaking you.

He let out a yell as the cooler water hit him, quickly submerging his head. He bobbed up, smoothing his wet raven locks back.

"Ace, what the hell?!" You cried out, spluttering from the water in your nose. "Are you crazy?"

"What?!" He laughed at your shocked yell as his eyes glinted. "Worth it."

"Come on in, the waters fine!" He cried out, gesturing for you to follow him.

"Absolutely not!"

"Well, can you at least help me out? You're right, I think I'm getting cold." He said, pleadingly as he jutted out his lower lip.

You held out your hand, and he yanked you in. You fell with a complete splash, and he couldn't stop hollering.

You flailed around, trying to swim until he quickly wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Easy, easy. I got ya." He grinned. "Put your arms around me."

You reluctantly followed his instructions, draping your arms over his broad shoulders as he kicked his feet in the water to keep the both of you afloat.

"Now why are you pouting? That's like the oldest trick in the book, I can't believe you fell for that crap." He teased.

"Shut up! What if I drowned, huh?"

"You little drama queen, I'd never let that happen." He grinned as he brushed the damp hair out of your face.

The gentle nature of his movements and his voice dropping to a softer tone as he gazed at you made your heart begin to race.

"...Ace."

"Yeah, doll-face?" He grinned as his thumb caressed your skin gently.

Any smart quip died on your tongue as he looked into your eyes.

His free hand held your chin, his thumb caressing the skin under your chin. His voice was a soft murmur in your ear as he looked at your lips.

The urge was there. To just lean in and kiss him. He's a good kisser. But at the same time, it felt like overkill. So you backed away a little, still in his grip.

He instantly noted your apprehension. And not wanting to push anything, it was almost as if the look of desire in his eyes dulled out. His eyes flickered to the waterfall.

"You shoulda gave me a chance to strip before you dragged me in." You grumbled as your shirt uncomfortably clung to your skin.

Soon enough, you felt a little embarrassed as the two of you trudged back from the forest, your clothes soaked whereas Ace was just a little soggy.

The fact that you were dripping on the wooden floorboards didn't help. You insisted on cleaning up but Ace refused.

"Ma will kick my ass if she knew I made you lift a finger." He chuckled.

Ace had already stripped out of the slightly damp clothes, a towel around his neck and some shorts as he mopped up the wet trail.

"I'll hop in the shower after you, okay?" He said with a smile. "Go before you catch a cold. I got lots more to show you 'round these parts, last thing I need is to be relegated to nursing duty."

"Oh shut up. It doesn't discriminate you know! You could fall victim to it too." You said plainly.

Ace quickly knocked on the wall beside him.

"Woah there..!" Ace cried out. "Don't be cursin' my sturdy immune system now! Get goin'!" He threatened to swat you with the mop but you bounded away just in time before it hit your rear.

The guilt from when you attempted to cancel the article came creeping back up as you turned on the bathroom light and sat on the covered toilet seat.

Ace's family had welcomed you like one of their own, and the fact he'd opened up about his life, the moment you shared in the waters? You were beginning to feel like the worst person on the planet.

Ace was layered.

The smooth-talking and pretty face was merely a mask, there was a resilient and kind man under it all. And even with your antics that drove him up the wall, there was no denying the connection you had.

The tenth day was fast approaching. But you didn't want to lose Ace. You were dragged out of your thoughts with a knock at the bathroom door as it creaked open.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." You sighed, trying to recompose yourself as a lump formed in your throat.

Ace shut the pine door behind him, smiling ear to ear but his face almost immediately dropped when he noticed the visible distress on your face.

"No, no, no..." He muttered as he crouched in front of you, cupping your cheeks. "What's the matter, doll-face huh? Don't tell me you haven't showered yet? You took your sweet ass time in here!"

You giggled, he always knew how to cheer people up.

His voice softened as his dark eyes glinted.

"Everything all right?" He asked, dropping the jokey demeanor, voice laced with concern.

"Oh, no. It's more than okay. I love everything about this house. The noise...the smells..."

"The smells? That's probably just Luffy. I swear if I don't kick his butt into the shower I gotta hose him down-"

You burst into hysterics despite your tears.

"So what's the matter, eh? I hate to see ya cryin', especially when you're with me."

"It's just that when your Mom hugged me today, she really hugged me." You murmured.

"Yeah? That mean old broad does know how to give a good squeeze. But her hugging you is a good thing. Dadan's a real mama bear. If she likes you, she'll hug ya like she would her own kin."

He paused for a split second, with a pensive expression on his face.

"But she only does that if she sees something special in ya. And there's no question about it you're one of a kind, honey."

"Now...smile." He insisted.

"...Ace." You tittered.

"Come on, give me a smile."

You begrudgingly smiled at him, baring your teeth.

"Alright, now you're scarin' me." He snickered, causing the both of you to dissolve into fits of laughter.

"Just remember this is home. And you can come here anytime." He said tenderly, as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. Almost experimentally, testing the waters.

Your gut told you this felt right.

You've shared kisses with Ace, but this was the first time you were certain that this meant something.

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and you tilted your head to allow him to give you a deeper kiss. You gasped when his tongue swiped across the seam of your lips, almost as if he was pleading for permission.

You parted your lips, because who were you to deny yourself Ace? You pulled away for air, nudging your forehead against his, unable to hold back the smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

The burst of joy unfolding in your stomach.

As his onyx eyes raked over you, you lifted your arms above your head. Granting him the chance to undress you. The familiar wolfish grin of his returned, but this time you didn't have suspicion.

He chuckled as his hands planted on your waist to roll it off completely, discarding it onto the bathroom floor. You both stood up, and it was your turn to shed off his clothing, hands almost desperately tugging his t-shirt off.

"Be gentle with me now." He teased voice barely an octave, earning a laugh from you.

"Shut up..." You snickered as his hands smoothed over the top of your head and he leaned in to capture your lips, more hungrily this time as he tugged you into the shower.

After another journey back, you were relaxed weirdly enough. It'd been a long time since you'd enjoyed yourself. Ace walked you to the entrance of your apartment.

Before you headed in, he called your name to stop you.

"Hey, listen, tomorrow night that guy, Cobra is throwing a party for that diamond account I was telling you about. Pops got all of us invites."

"I can't get over the fact you call your boss Pops." You chuckled.

"He's like the old man I never had since mine left me in the dust." He chuckled. "I want you to come with me. As my girlfriend."

"Are you calling me your girlfriend?"

"Yeah. I think I am." He announced.

"Won't tomorrow be the tenth day we've been seeing each other?" You questioned with a smile.

"Shoot...yeah." Ace said with an uneasy laugh, the bet instantly invading his brain.

"Maybe after that, we'll know." You teased.

Ace felt a twist in his gut. Nevertheless, he took a step towards you and instantly engulfed you in a hug.

Fluttering your eyes closed, he pulled you until you were flush against his chest. It was dramatic but being with him, sleeping beside him, eating with him, it was hard to just let go and let him be on his merry way.

He eventually released you, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. Ace always smiles. Yet somehow this smile had a tinge of melancholy and sadness within it.

"Look who's being the drama queen now." You teased.

"Don't miss me too much." He settled on as he cupped the side of your face to pepper wet kisses quickly, triggering you to writhe and squirm against him.

As you descended the steps of your apartment, Ace stood there, exaggerating as he mimed being shot through the heart.

"You are so dumb." You giggled as you made your way over to him.

"Dumbstruck at your beauty." He cheesed.

"Keep up with these one-liners and I'm heading back indoors." You muttered but Ace instantly grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him.

"You ain't gettin' away from me that easily, doll-face." He chuckled as he leaned in to nip at your neck, then ushered you into the car.

Settled in the backseat, you felt his fingers interlace with yours.

Your eyes widened as you both entered the building. The opulence of the beautifully decorated ballroom, complete with sparkling crystal chandeliers and cascading curtains of twinkling lights left you in awe.

"Try n’ act like you've been here before, eh doll-face?" Ace whispered, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as he leaned in.

"Oh, go to hell." You shot back at his teasing, your arms linked. But you were just so enraptured by it all.

Distinguished guests, draped in haute couture and adorned with sparkling jewels, mingled beneath the soft glow of golden spotlights, their laughter and conversation filling the air.

Champagne flowed freely, poured into crystal flutes and served by the impeccably dressed waitstaff circulated among the throngs of attendees.

Live music, performed by a string ensemble in the corner of the ballroom floated in the atmosphere.

You were out of place.

"Oh, there are my friends. I'll be right with you, okay?" You smiled as you spotted Robin, Nami and Vivi by the live band. Robin plucked champagne flutes off of the tray.

"You'll do great." You smiled as you pecked Ace's cheek.

Zoning in on them, you made your way over to the three women.

"Could you two not be any more obvious?!" Robin called out as she arched an eyebrow at Nami's rusty rose lipstick smudged on Vivi's face.

She was still smiling like a Chesire cat, feeling a sense of pride swelling in her chest. She was over the moon for her. Nami was like the little sister Robin never had.

"Huh?!" Vivi gasped, cheeks dusted pink as she hurriedly searched for the compact mirror in her handbag to look at the damage.

"Nami...!" She whined. "My dad is gonna see...!"

"Oh hush, your old man loves me!" Nami grinned as she gave another lipstick-addled kiss on Vivi's temple, causing the two to dissolve into giggles.

"Nice to see I'm surrounded by lovebirds, mhm?" Robin chuckled.

"You mean...?"

"Like you didn't just swagger in with Acey Wacey. How was the weekend away?" Robin smiled.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory of Ace's lips ghosting along your neck, pressing you against the tiles as scalding water pattered on your bare skin.

"Oh! Um...it was really great!" You said a little robotic-like, flustered from the memories. "His family is kinda unorthodox but it was very..."

"You screwed him, didn't you?" Nami deadpanned.

"Nami!"

"What?!"

Ace smirked. While Isuka and Kujaku sometimes reminded him of vultures circling menacingly over a rotting carcass, he had the upper hand in his mind.

"Congratulations. You got her here." Kujaku remarked as she spotted you talking to Robin, Nami and Vivi. "But the question remains."

"Does she or doesn't she?" Isuka arched an eyebrow as she folded her arms.

"We're gonna find out." Ace said with a triumphant grin.

Your eyes widened as you heard a loud voice call your name to see a towering figure.

"Um...can I help you?" You stammered out.

"I'm Edward Newgate."

"Oh, you're Ace's boss...!" You choked out in relief. "Well, he always calls you Pops."

"Pleasure to meet you." He said with a hearty chuckle as he took your hand.

"And I must say, you look rather inspired yourself. There isn't a diamond in the room that sparkles like a woman in love." Newgate said, earning some looks with how loud he was.

You felt put on the spot, sweating.

"Oh, no, no...I'm not in love..." You stuttered.

"No? I guess I was mistaken."

"No, no, no. I mean, I just..." You scoured for Ace across the room, where he was leaning across the bar. He gave you a wink which made your heart flutter. "I mean, I've only known him for ten days. I can't be..."

"Ace is a very lucky man...now if you'll excuse me." Newgate chuckled as he took his leave.

"Mr. Newgate, please don't tell him!" You hissed.

"Ace!" Marco and Izou chorused, pushing their way through the throes of the crowd to reach him.

"Hey, hello, gentlemen." Ace greeted.

"Yeah? She loves you, she loves you not?" Izou hurriedly questioned.

"I don't know. We'll see." Ace said earnestly. "But I have a gut feeling I won her over, mhm?"

"Here's the man of the hour!" Newgate grinned.

"Pops!" The men chorused.

"Saw her, met her, she loves you. You win. Get ready to pitch!" Newgate said with a wide grin, Marco and Izou celebrated instantly as they punched the air and squeezed each other.

Whereas Ace was in a trance, his breaths starting to become shallow. You love him?

Charlotte tilted her head at Ace as Marco and Izou scurried off to the bar.

"So, you're the new point man for Cobra Diamonds?" Charlotte questioned as she looked at Ace.

"...She loves me." Ace breathed out, mind hurtling at speeds he could barely comprehend.

"Good for you." Charlotte said, a little confused. "And good for whoever she is."

Isuka knew she couldn't go out like this. She had one final trick to pull out from her sleeve. She gestured Kujaku to follow her as she made a beeline towards Marco and Izou.

"Gloating, are we?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. Pops told us so...yeah." Izou said smugly.

"You don't mess with my man, Ace!" Marco grinned.

"Well, your man Ace is a cheater." Isuka said plainly. "That girl has known about the bet from the beginning."

"She was playing along so Ace would win." Kujaku shrugged, voice laced with condescension. "So him to enjoy his short-lived, ill-gotten victory. We're going to talk to Newgate."

After dropping the nuclear bomb, the two slinked off. Leaving the two men extremely dumbfounded as they shared a look.

"What?!" Izou cried out, blood draining out of his face. "Now why the hell would Ace do that?!"

"Beats me!" Marco shot back, sweating because he knew Newgate hated dishonesty from his workers. "If Pops finds out, he'll have our behinds!"

They shared a look, then made a beeline towards you. You were sat at one of the many roundtables, processing the weight of Newgate's words until you noticed figures approach you.

"Hey. Remember us?" Izou grinned as he sat beside you.

You smiled.

Izou had porcelain skin with gentle features and light make up all the time, whereas Marco was slightly wrinkled and tan with a friendly smile.

It was unfortunate you had dragged them into your antics but this revelation may have opened a new chapter for you.

"You know, Newgate is gonna come over here in a minute, and it would be so great if you could just, you know, like, act like you don't know anything about the bet." Izou rambled.

"...Bet?" You questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

"I mean, if you could tell him that you really, truly love Ace, and you weren't just, you know, pretending so he would win, that would be huge."

He was...playing you too?

"Yeah. Love, no bet. I understand." You said robotically, struggling to keep your composure.

"If you'll excuse me, Charlotte, there's a beautiful young woman in a yellow dress that I must go to." Ace said as he watched Marco and Izou talking to you, but you seemed disengaged.

"Oh...Y/N! She's my how-to girl." Charlotte cackled with glee.

"How-to?"

"Yes. Right now she's doing an article called How To: Lose a Guy in 10 Days. This poor schmuck she's been pretending to date, well, not even pretending to date, she's actually dating the guy." Charlotte said, her arm linked with Ace's. "She's doing the most atrocious things to him. She's actually named his...his..."

Charlotte trailed off as she realized the stormy expression brewing in Ace's eyes.

"You...must be Princess Sophia." Charlotte said, pulling a face. She wasn't sure on how to proceed, so she pulled away from Ace as he glared at you.

Newgate grabbed the microphone to quiet everybody down, and introduced the pianist. But you were feeling rather spunky mixed with the bitterness of the revelation as you had lost count of all the drinks you downed.

You snatched the microphone close to you and pushed your way to the stage, earning some gasps and murmurs of confusion. Even Newgate took a step back.

"Well, yes! Give another hand for...Brook is in the house!" You slurred a little. "A lot of you out here don't know Portgas D. Ace...Well, shame on you! Cause he is a very talented advertising executive, a knowledgeable sports fan AND a wagering enthusiast. But, most impressively, he is one hell of a singer, and he has prepared a little comedic act for you all!"

Ace frowned.

Were you being serious right now? You had made a fool of him and now you were trying to sting him up again? You had some nerve. Nevertheless, he made his way to the stage.

"Take the stage, Ace!" You called out as the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. “Knock ‘em dead!”

"Nope, now where do you think you're goin' Missy?" Ace gave you a fake smile as his hand clamped around your wrist to stop you from fleeing. "Y/N here is quite the jokester herself!"

You stared at him as he ruffled his hair, a habit he had when he was nervous.

"Well, I always have a tendency to be the last to know things! And it seems this wasn't any different. This lovely girl I've been seeing has been using me as a lab-rat!" Ace announced.

The audience was split. Some awkward titters, the others failing to catch on and laughing raucously.

"You fooled me to win a bet...you should feel ashamed!" You hissed through gritted teeth.

The crowd collectively gasped. Ace's eyes narrowed as he felt his cheeks burn.

"Yeah, like you're such a victim. Where the hell should we begin? You bringing a dog with an incontinence problem to my goddamn office? Or you leaving about two hundred messages on my answering machine in one night! How ‘bout you when you named my dick after a dame?"

"...Oh my?" Isuka chuckled, revelling in the chaos.

It was true.

But you still couldn't believe that this was all just a bet. You tore away from his grip, throwing the mic onto the ground causing a feedback noise that made everybody hiss and cover their ears.

Running away from it all.

"There she goes, ladies and gentlemen. There she goes!" Ace said with a mirthless laugh. "Thanks, guys. Take it from here, Old man Cobra."

"...Huh?" The older man was bewildered at the scene that had just taken place, with Vivi and Nami by his side.

"Way to go, Y/N.." Nami sighed as she rubbed her temple.

Fleeing from the building, you grabbed the skirts of your dress until you finally reached the cool night air. Tears prickling your waterline.

Stubborn. Yes, that's the one thing that can get you far in journalism. But stubborn to a fault, deep down you knew Ace had taken more of the brunt from your actions. Yet you were absolutely livid.

Furious at the fact you had fallen for the man. And you were so sure he had to. But it was all just a bet.

"Hold on, Y/N!" Ace huffed out as he chased after you. "I ain't done with you just yet!"

You glared at him, fists balled up. He was equally as angry, the vein in his forehead throbbing.

"You used me to get ahead in your work-"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing at this very moment.

"Do you hear yourself, Ace?! I used you?! You arrogant, backstabbing jerk!" You cried out.

Ace scoffed, taken aback by your audacity.

"Like you didn't go out of your way to drive me half insane for a goddamn magazine article!" He spat.

"Oh, yeah, and you told people you could make any girl fall in love with you, and I..." You shook your head with a bitter laugh. "I was exhibit A!"

"So that's all I was, huh? A guinea pig you could test your theories on?" He hissed.

"And I was just a girl somebody picked out in a bar." You retorted.

"Yeah, you know what, Y/N? Big fucking whoop. Hell, I'm sure now you can even use it as a little twist in your story."

"That's a good idea. Maybe we should bet on it, huh?"

"You know what? You did your job now, Y/N. You wanted to lose a guy in 10 days. Congratulations. You did it. You just lost him."

"No, I didn't, Ace." You replied as you rubbed your bare arms as goosebumps arose all over your skin from the nipping cold air. "You can't lose something you never had in the first place."

"We can sleep over if you want." Nami said lowly as the four of you sat in the cab home.

"No, Nami. I'm fine. Really." You said with a pained smile. "I mean, I got my article, Ace got the deal-"

"Uh uh." Robin snorted. "Sorry to Freckles, but the way you two made a royal ass of yourselves? There is no way Vivi's old man would want any parts in that."

"...So, you both sorta screwed each other over?" Vivi questioned as her head rested in Nami's lap, Nami's slender fingers twirling her powder blue locks.

"Vivi." Nami hissed.

"No, Nami she's right." You said with a bitter laugh. "And for what? To be a real journalist? What I did was sleazy. And dirty."

"Well, didn't you say he used you for a bet too?"

"Yeah. Apparently they dared him to choose any girl and make her fall for him in ten days."

"...Ouch."

"Well, it's not what I expected." Charlotte said as her eyes raked over the edited article. "It's better. Congratulations. This shows me you're ready to be unleashed, from now on, feel free to write about anything."

"...Anything?" You repeated, a little overexcited. "Even politics?"

"Well. I wouldn't go there." Charlotte snickered.

"Race, religion, poverty, economics? Current state of affairs?"

Charlotte sighed as she slammed the magazine onto her desk.

"We're just not that kind of magazine, Y/N." She said as she pursed her lips.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Charlotte. And thank you for making it easy for me to turn down."

"He doesn't even get changed anymore." A disgruntled lady murmured as their usual ritual of Ace getting changed had now come to an end since the Cobra Diamonds event.

"Alright folks, clear off." Marco said as Izou made shooing gesture, earning groans as they gathered around the window.

They looked at Ace who seemed to just be staring at the ceiling as he sat at desk, blinds shut. Despite it all going awry, Nefertiti Cobra still went through with the pitch due to his daughter's pleading.

Rex barked.

"Obviously, if I could do it over again, I'd do some things differently, you know. I tell you, it's good to talk to you, though, man. It really is." Ace rambled as he ruffled the top of the dog's head and scratched behind his ears.

"You are the only one that knows us both, eh buddy?" He said with a grin. "And we got that pissy problem under control, so it worked out in a way."

"God, he's lost his damn marbles." Izou said, horrified at the sight of Ace in a deep discussion with the dog.

Marco stormed into the office, yanking the blinds open making Ace squawk at the sudden rush of light.

"Hey! What the hell?!" Ace cried out, shielding himself from the sunlight with his arms.

"This is pathetic, man. You got the pitch, what the hell are you moping about?" Marco scolded.

"Doesn't even feel like I deserve it." Ace sulked.

"Maybe this'll cheer you up." Izou said as he brandished a copy of Sleek.

"Go to hell." Ace hissed, slapping the magazine away.

"Hey! No violence here!" Izou pouted. "I'm not a dick, I wouldn't bring it here to rub the salt in the wounds! There's hope for you two idiots!"

Ace perked up a little.

"What do you mean?"

Marco snatched the magazine from Izou's hands and cleared his throat, putting on a dramatic pose.

"I've lost a guy and I don't know why.

What went wrong?

When I started writing this month's column, I wanted to commit those certain, silly dating faux pas.

What I didn't realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of all.

And that I lost the only guy I ever fell for."

Ace froze immediately.

"She..."

Marco pushed the copy into Ace's hands, and Ace's gaze fell onto two speech bubbles that read "The last ten days were the best I've ever spent with anyone in my life." and "This is my final column for Sleek."

"You good there, buddy?" Marco asked a little uneasily as he saw the look in Ace's eyes.

Ace shot up out of the chair, snatching the helmet from his desk.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?!" Izou cried out from the window.

"To get my girl back!" Ace called out.

Ace's bike furiously thundered down the bustling streets, scouring every yellow taxi in case it had you.

Robin and Nami saw him loitering around the entrance of Sleek's office and let him know you were on your way for a flight to a different state for an interview.

"What in the world? Ace?!" You gasped as you lowered the window, him banging furiously on the glass.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" You shrieked.

"If that's what it takes, yeah! Now pull over the cab!"

"Sir? Excuse me, sir. Could you please pull the car over?" You said meekly to the driver, a little embarrassed at this entire scenario.

"Whatever." The man groaned as he rolled his eyes, pulling over instantly.

"Is this true?" He asked, voice firm as his eyes pierced through you as he held up the magazine.

"Ace, please..." You sighed, fluffing your curls.

"I said, is this true or are you just trying to sell magazines?" He repeated as he stalked over to you.

"I meant every word.." You said in a defeated tone, ashamed of your actions.

"Well, where are you going?" He questioned.

"I have an interview."

" Yeah, in Washington. I know but why?"

"Ace, it's the only place I can go and write what I want to write."

"No, I ain't buyin' that. You can write anywhere. I think you're running away." He said as he crossed his arms and intimidatingly leaned in towards you.

"Why don't you save your mind games for your next bet, huh? I am not running away." You snapped.

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?" You questioned, offended.

"You heard me. Bullshit."

"Hey, lady, what do you wanna do?" The cab driver groaned, irritated.

"Take the lady's luggage back to her place. She has alternate transportation." Ace said as he handed a wad of cash to the driver.

"You calling my bluff?" You said as you arched a brow.

"You bet I am." He smirked.

He cupped your cheeks and immediately crushed his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

"Look who made the trip with me." Ace said triumphantly as he brandished a pot he snatched.

"It's our love fern! Aw Acey Wacey...!" You cooed as you threw your arms around him and leaned in to nuzzle your nose against his, his hands firmly planted on your hips.

author’s note: if u reached this far, thank you for reading!!

taglist: @tetsuskei @softimgyu @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @payapie @katsuiji 💗

#one piece x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #fire fist ace #portgas d. ace #one piece x female reader #one piece fanfic #ace x reader #⊹˚. ♡ nara’s 10 days #one piece imagines #portgas d ace #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

84 notes · View notes

musingmelsuinesmelancholy · 6 months

Text

Some things I’ve been thinking about. At times being an American trad witch is incredibly frustrating and at others it’s absolutely exhilarating, rewarding. Reconnecting with my ancestral ( primarily french and scottish ) lore, magical practices, witchcraft etc has and will continue to inform my practice but I’ll never be a “french” witch. I’ll never be a “scottish” witch. I can find a lone hawthorn or a sacred tree guarding a hidden spring to tie the cloutie to, I can divine via a snail’s mucus trail, Fly to the Sabbath to meet The Abbess, heed the Dame Blanches, pluck the golden bloom with songs to St Columba, safeguard me and mine via silver, spring water and juniper. Yet there’s many things I’ll never know or be able to do. Whether that’s because these things are so tied to the land or a specific place, language barriers, ( working to overcome this one ) or due to the ( well warranted) gate keeping of lore and practices.

This used to be a source of great confusion for me. I think because I was afraid( due to my previous new age fuckwittery ) to experiment, do anything other than what I understood as “traditional”. My understanding being too rigid at the time; the pendulum swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. This delayed my progress and “froze” me. I was left wondering what an “American” trad craft would look like; most our books do come from a European POV. Learning of our own magical traditions as well as those of my Canadian family ( still working on that one haha ) helped. Reading Robin Kimmere helped. Reading Schulke, him being an American and writing on American plants, helped too. I’ve come to know Sugar Maple and Plantain as powerful spirits. Both teaching important lessons on how to rectify my ancestors mistakes, to foster relations with the First Peoples and how to incorporate the magic of this land into my craft. Rather than being frustrated by my being American I see it as a challenge now. I get to explore spirits, plants, places, animals, spiritual/physical ecologies ( is even really a difference between these?) completely unknown to my ancestors. I get to reconcile the old and the new. To learn from Spirit Direct. Tradition isn’t the worship of ashes, it’s the preservation of Fire. New wood must be added to keep The Fire burning. The Devil of this land certainly is a spirit of the unknown.

I am the land, the land is me.

I don’t own it, to it I owe all.

To it my body will return, the tithe paid.

I’m not rolling hills of heather, white chalk cliffs, the monk’s island nor the azure coast. The memories of these places echo distantly in my blood, sung alive by my ancestors shades. Part of me they’ll always be; yet it’s not who I am. Not what I am.

I’m craggy shores, dull-jade waves bearing down upon the tired rocks. I am musky pine forests veiled in mist. Sun-venerating oaks hugging the shoreline. Bleeding alders in damp ground swelling. Proud maples sustaining generation upon generation with their boiled blood. Death-grey clay, exposed by running spring.

I am the kudzu, the itching moth, the knotweed, the Norway maple, the ivy wrecking havoc upon the land. My surname and light skin proof of a genocide ongoing. I am my ancestors sins; the specter of the Old Growth forests, their grief hanging over the land like a fog. Every interaction with The Land tinged with sadness, loss.

I am my maternal side’s copper curls. Melusine’s pride. Ave Landry! Ave Gauthier! Forebears mine.

I am my paternal side’s grief. The end result of decades of cultural warfare. The Jesuits stole our name….my hair will not be cut.

Never will I libate these glacier carved valleys with booze.

I am the plantain, learning a kinder way. The sumac reclaiming the orchard.

My Februarys, my Marches aren’t snow drops and daffodils peaking through the frozen ground. They’re steely skies and walls of sleet. Bloodroot heralds winters wane; not Brigid’s flower.

My June isn’t fields of poppies, it’s seas of crimson staghorn blooms skyward reaching.

My augusts aren’t golden shafts of wheat, swaying in summer’s last breaths; they’re explosions of neon-violet and honey-yellow. Corn ripening on the vine, supporting the climbing bean. The cicadas song reverberating.

Old Michaelmas marks harvest’s end, October potatoes long buried in soils darkness finally exhumed. The Devil his Rosy Briar to ascend and plunge.

With Novembers first snows the Dead come in.

I’ll never process around a standing stone nor know what it is to live and eat off the land my dead lay in. Finally, I’m learning to be at peace with this. To love and know the land I live on. I’ll always be a stranger here, a guest. I hope to be a good one.

91 notes · View notes

caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year

Text

The ship rocks.

Leona stares out over the choppy sea without emotion. A wisp of memory: the way she screamed and laughed her first day at sea. She wore yellow that day and she remembers the shock of her shirt against the endless blue of the sky.

She leans against the center mast, head tilting up. The sails are tattered ghosts against the steel-grey sky and there are scorch marks marching along the wood. When she tied the crew to the mast, she made sure to take their daggers and pocketknives. She didn’t think they’d be so desperate as to burn themselves free.

The sun hasn’t shown its face in five days. What little light peeked through the clouds disappears as it slips further and further away. Leona closes her eyes against the encroaching darkness. She knows what comes next.

“Darling.”

It’s not a voice Leona knows. That’s why she’s the last one standing. An orphan with only one love in her heart her entire life is stronger than someone who left a family behind on distant shores. A cruel and callous statement, but true.

“Darling, please. For me. For us. For what can be.”

Leona grits her teeth and opens her eyes. The craggy mountains that have locked her ship in pace rise like blades into the sky. Dark and imposing, jutting out of the sea like teeth. Blue lights glimmer in their crevices and along their shores, little flames of ethereal light that promise more warmth than can be found on a shipwrecked ship.

“You’re different. Please, let me show you how different.”

Different. Leona scoffs even as she feels something give deep inside. She’s an orphan from an town filled with them. They’re not different. Even her love for the sea isn’t unique. The men and women she sailed with held the same love in their hearts.

And now they belong to the watery grave below.

So Leona holds no illusions when she steps away from the mast. Even as a part of her heart sings, Different, I’m different, Ill be different, she doesn’t smile like her crew mates did. She’s falling for the lie, sure.

But she won’t go down smiling.

“Darling, I promise it’s not what you think. Come here, come here.”

Leona falls from her ship and into waiting arms.

#my writing #Drabble #long post #sirens #Leona and the sirens

532 notes · View notes

zapreportsblog · 7 months

Note

Yandere poly volturi kings and female elf reader.

❝hidden away from preying eyes❞

✭ pairing : yandere demetri volturi x reader x yandere felix volturi

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : demetri and felix have long since come across their mates and turns out they shared one, she was different from others, an elf her species were called, she was theirs, all theirs and they’d be damned if anyone came about her. No, that simply wouldn’t do at all. She didn’t need to be exposed to the brutality of the vampire world and that’ll be sure she’s kept a secret, their little secret

✭ authors note : thank you for the request but as posted on my last twilight fic I’ll be writing for other fandoms mostly instead of twilight, I’m not limited to just writing twilight seeing as how I write for various fandoms :)

✭ twilight masterlist 2

The grand halls of the Volturi castle echoed with whispers of ancient power and authority as Demetri and Felix strode through them. Today was a rare day; they had been excused from their duties serving the kings. An off day. The prospect of freedom beckoned to them like a siren's call, and they intended to make the most of it.

As they exited the castle, the brilliant Italian sunlight warmed their skin. Demetri, ever the expert hunter with his tracking abilities, had something special in mind for their day of respite. "What ever shall we do now felix," he said, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "After all it is our off day."

Felix raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Our off day you say? Hmm, I take it you already know what I’m thinking.”

With Demetri's keen senses guiding them, they ventured beyond the city's edge and into the dense Italian forest. They followed the winding paths until they reached an unassuming spot near the base of a craggy hill.

"Ah, but of course I do," Demetri announced, his eyes narrowing as he focused. "Do you think the little ones hatched.”

Felix watched in fascination as Demetri's hand moved gracefully, tracing invisible lines in the air. Slowly, as if an invisible cloak were lifted, an entrance revealed itself. An underground cave system beckoned them.

They jumped down gracefully, landing with the ease of supernatural beings. "Anyone here?" Felix called out into the dimly lit cavern.

The echo of their voices faded, and there was a moment of silence. Then, as if materializing from thin air, a house appeared before them. It had been hidden by some form of illusion, but it was now fully exposed.

The door swung open, and a breathtaking elf woman emerged. (Y/N) was her name, and she was their mate. Her long, silvery hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back, and her ethereal beauty left Demetri and Felix momentarily breathless.

"I've missed you, my loves," she said, her voice like a melodious song. With grace and swiftness, she ran into their arms. One by one, she planted a passionate kiss on each of their lips.

Felix grinned, his golden eyes filled with affection. "We've missed you too, little fairy.”

And then came the chorus of little voices. From the house behind (Y/N), a group of hybrid vampire and elf children came running. Their laughter filled the cavern as they called out in excitement.

"Daddy! Papa!" they cried, their tiny arms outstretched.

Demetri and Felix knelt to embrace their children, their hearts overflowing with love. It was moments like these that made their relentless service to the Volturi worthwhile. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, they found the love and family they had always yearned for.

“It seems the little ones did indeed hatch.” Demetri smiled in pure amusement.

Now inside the house, Demetri and Felix sat on the ground, surrounded by their exuberant little ones, their hearts filled with joy and contentment. As they shared affectionate moments with their children, Demetri couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a nagging curiosity.

"(Y/N)," he began hesitantly, "can I ask... when were they... born?"

(Y/N) smiled warmly, her eyes filled with maternal pride as she gazed at their offspring. "Just last spring, my love."

Demetri's brow furrowed, and he grimaced inwardly. They had missed the birth of their children, and it weighed heavily on him. He exchanged a quick glance with Felix, who shared his remorse.

"We are sorry, our love," Felix spoke up, his voice tinged with regret. "Our duties... they keep us occupied."

(Y/N) placed a gentle hand on Felix's shoulder, her touch reassuring. "I understand," she said, her voice filled with understanding and love. "You two are protecting our family from that dangerous world up there."

Her words brought solace to Demetri and Felix, a reminder that their sacrifices were not in vain. They had chosen to continue to serve the Volturi to safeguard their loved ones from the perilous existence of the vampire world. But in this hidden sanctuary, beneath the earth's surface, they had found a haven of love and acceptance.

Demetri leaned in to kiss (Y/N), his gratitude and affection evident in the tender gesture. Felix wrapped his arms around both of them, drawing them closer into an embrace that spoke of their unbreakable bond.

As they held each other and reveled in the laughter of their children, the world above, with all its dangers and complexities, faded into the background. Here, in the arms of their mate and the embrace of their little ones, Demetri and Felix found the greatest treasure of all: a family born of love, acceptance, and unity.

Demetri and Felix reveled in the simple joys of parenthood as they took turns playing with their little ones in the underground sanctuary. The children's laughter echoed through the cavern as they engaged in various activities, from playing games to exploring the hidden corners of their unique home.

While one of them spent time with the children, the other shared passionate moments with (Y/N) in their bedroom. Their love for each other burned just as brightly as it did when they first met, and these stolen moments of intimacy were a reminder of the deep connection they shared.

As the day unfolded, Demetri and Felix switched roles, each taking their turn to bond with their mate and tend to the children. It was a seamless rhythm of love and care that filled their hearts with contentment.

By the time dinner approached, the children's excitement was palpable. They gathered around the makeshift dining area, their eager faces lit with anticipation.

Felix and Demetri joined them, taking their seats as (Y/N) served a simple meal. The children couldn't contain their enthusiasm, and their voices bubbled over as they began sharing their adventures.

"I found a rock!" one of the youngest ones exclaimed, proudly displaying a shiny stone.

Another chimed in, "Mommy's helping me grow a garden!" Her eyes sparkled with pride as she described the tiny sprouts that had emerged.

Demetri and Felix listened with rapt attention, their hearts swelling with pride as they celebrated each child's discoveries and accomplishments. It was a far cry from the world of the Volturi, where power and dominance ruled. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, their family thrived on love, support, and the simple joys of life.

The children's stories and laughter filled the underground cavern, a reminder that they were building a future together, one filled with love, acceptance, and the promise of endless adventures in their hidden world.

Demetri and Felix lovingly tucked each of their little ones into their shared nest, ensuring they were comfortable and secure beneath the warm covers. The children's eyes were heavy with sleep, and they clutched their favorite toys as they settled in.

"We'll be back as soon as we can, my loves," Demetri whispered to them, his voice gentle and reassuring.

Felix leaned down to place a tender kiss on each child's forehead. "Sleep well, little peanuts."

As they turned to leave the nest, (Y/N) watched them with a soft smile. However, there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "You shouldn't lie to them," she said softly.

Demetri turned back to her, his expression conflicted. "Let's not fight, my love," he urged, hoping to avoid discord.

(Y/N) sighed, her gaze filled with understanding. "I don't wish to fight either, but they are growing older. Soon, they will question where their papa and daddy are and why they can't see them as often. I understand you are protecting us, but they need their fathers."

Felix, sensing the tension in the room, approached (Y/N) and kissed her gently on the lips. "We will find a solution for this," he promised.

As they left the nest and made their way through the underground sanctuary, dark and possessive thoughts began to swirl in their minds. They were fiercely protective over (Y/N) and their offspring. The idea of being separated from them or putting their family in harm's way was unthinkable.

Demetri's eyes gleamed with a possessive intensity, and Felix's grip on his mate's hand tightened. In the depths of their hearts, they were willing to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and happiness of their beloved mate and precious children, even if it meant taking extreme measures.

As they ventured deeper into the cave towards the exit, the darkness of their thoughts matched the shadowy world they inhabited, where love and protection bordered on obsession, and where the boundaries between right and wrong blurred in the name of family.

After a particularly harrowing mission, Felix and Demetri returned to their hidden sanctuary beneath the earth, their minds heavy with the weight of their deeds. But the protectiveness they felt for their mate and offspring had only grown stronger, and they were determined to provide a safer and more comfortable life for their family.

Not far from their underground haven, they stumbled upon an isolated house nestled among the trees. The owners, oblivious to their impending doom, never saw it coming. In a swift and efficient manner, Felix and Demetri eliminated any threats, securing the property for their own purposes.

With grim determination, they began the arduous task of transforming the house into a hidden treehouse. It was a labor of love and protection, and over the course of three weeks, they worked tirelessly. They constructed a series of long, winding stairs that spiraled up the massive tree trunk, leading to a network of cabins on different levels.

As they labored side by side, their thoughts often turned to their mate and offspring. "Do you think they'll like it here?" Felix asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Demetri paused, wiping sweat from his brow. He gazed around at the hidden treehouse they were building, a sanctuary far removed from the dangers of the vampire world above. "They'll love it," he affirmed, his eyes filled with determination.

They envisioned their family laughing and playing in the treehouse, the children exploring the different levels and cabins, their mate feeling safe and protected in this hidden haven. It was a labor of love and a testament to the depths of their devotion.

With the final touches in place, they stood back to admire their creation. The treehouse blended seamlessly with the surrounding forest, hidden from prying eyes. It was a symbol of their commitment to their family's well-being, a refuge from the chaos and darkness of the world above.

As they left the completed treehouse, Demetri and Felix were filled with a sense of satisfaction and hope. They were willing to go to any lengths to ensure the happiness and security of their loved ones. This hidden treehouse, nestled high among the branches, was a testament to their unwavering love and their determination to provide a better life for their mate and offspring.

With their hidden treehouse complete and the sun casting long shadows through the forest, Demetri and Felix ventured back to the underground sanctuary to fetch (Y/N) and the children. Their hearts swelled with anticipation as they imagined their loved ones discovering their new home.

As they approached their family, (Y/N) turned toward them, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What's going on? What's the surprise?"

Felix exchanged a knowing look with Demetri, and together they led their mate and the children on a winding path from out the cave, through the dense woods. The children's eyes sparkled with excitement as they ventured deeper into the forest, this was their first time outside of the cave.

Finally, they reached the base of the towering tree where the hidden treehouse awaited, its long staircase winding its way up the trunk. The children gasped in awe at the sight before them.

"(Y/N)," Demetri began, his voice filled with warmth, "we wanted to give you and the children a place closer to us.”

(Y/N) looked up at the treehouse, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's incredible," she breathed, taking in the sprawling structure.

As they ascended the stairs to their new home, the children's laughter echoed through the trees. They ran from cabin to cabin, exploring the hidden passages and rooms with boundless enthusiasm.

Demetri and Felix watched with contented smiles as their offspring reveled in their new surroundings. "My loves," (y/n) began, "does this mean we'll see you two more often?

Felix nodded and demetri followed. Demetri’s eyes filled with love and reassurance. "Yes, only we know of this place. It's our secret haven, away from the rest of the world."

Tears of gratitude welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes as she embraced them both. It was a promise of togetherness, a sanctuary where they could nurture their love and protect their family. As the sun set behind the trees, casting a warm golden glow over the hidden treehouse, Demetri, Felix, and their beloved mate and children stood together, united in their secret world, ready to embrace the future with love and unwavering devotion.

105 notes · View notes

elianas-cozycorner · 1 year

Text

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕿𝖔 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 | 𝕹𝖊𝖜𝖙 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗

Chapter One | Sweden

Summary: Several months after sharing a longing, intimate moment with your boss, Newt, you find yourself in the heart of a thrilling adventure.

Will chasing smugglers, taming dragons, and awkward family dinners be the key to pushing the two of you closer?

Author's Note: Here is the long awaited, long requested sequel to my fiction "Stumped"! Please, to all those who had previously enjoyed the story and requested this, accept my sincerest apologies.

I never knew how to continue the plotline until now. Rest assured, this multi-chapter fic will have everything you could ever desire! Depending on how this goes, I may change the rating. (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

Disclaimer: I have made this work non-compliant with canon for several reasons. Including a) lack of desire to be associated with films 2 & 3, b) for flow and story purposes, and c) because I do not condone J.K.R's behavior and wish to use my writing to bring joy despite the hurt she has caused.

Ao3 - General Audience Word Count: 1099 Warnings: None

"And so it was that you were left to sketch and think. It seemed that Newt was not the only one in a predicament, as confusion too clouded your mind. You were stumped. Stumped as to why Newt had seemed so pleased with your staring, why his smiling never ceased, and why he had chosen to keep you in his company after that. " - Stumped (2020)

/////

The air was hot, the wind scorching, and no relief could be found in any amount of water you carried. Despite the great altitude, no snow decorated the cliff faces and mountain peaks. Each breath only served to fuel coughing fits, what with the dryness and heavy musk of dragon. By all accounts, the world should have been covered in white, howling winds should have whipped ice across the craggy stone, and you definitely shouldn’t have been in a simple blouse and trousers.

Yet, here you were. Wand drawn and a thin cloth covering your mouth, without any form of elemental protection. You’d always imagined your first trip to Sweden would be for recreation. Though, you supposed, searching for a smuggled Swedish Short-snout hatchling was more exciting than an office job at the Ministry.

“How are you fairing, darling?” A smooth, strong voice called to you.

You looked up at the man, watching him clamber up another outcropping of rock. Newt was in as much a state of discomfort as you were. His once voluminous curls fell, soaked with sweat, into his face, his shirt sleeves were rolled up above his elbow, and the cloth he held to his face was grimy. However, there was a crinkle at the corner of his eye that told you just how much he was enjoying this. You couldn’t help but return his smile though he couldn’t see it.

“Perfectly content, Mr. Scamander! I only wonder at the heat, it is unexpected!” You tried your best to keep your voice level.

“She must be in distress,” He took a moment to catch his breath. “I haven’t seen any blue flames yet, so she is still a good way up.”

“I suppose she’s turned much of the mountain side up there black.” You caught up with him and leaned on him for support.

“And any foliage to ash,” There was a fondness in his voice. “It’s likely how she escaped her captors to begin with. Many smugglers are unprepared for the heat of a Short-snout’s fire.”

You nodded and flicked your wand. The charm was quick to take effect, cooling both of you instantly. You would not risk cleansing your attire or casting a verbal spell here. The sweat and dragon musk clung to your clothing like a natural camouflage. It would be hard for the dragon to detect you, much less so if you kept your spell-casting to a minimum.

Newt thanked you once he’d finished taking a sip of water. The synthetic waterskin was enchanted to keep its contents cool and permanently full. He offered it to you shyly, bumping it against your hand gently.

“Drink.” His voice was soft, gentle. He wouldn’t command you to drink against your will, but there was a heavy tone of suggestion there nonetheless. It was your turn to thank him.

You took the waterskin, careful not to let your touch linger too long. Ever since that day in the suitcase, when your eyes had met and the world slowed to a stop, things had been different. Awkward. It never hindered your work, never interfered with your capabilities in tending to and drawing Mr. Scamander’s creatures, but it was always there. For you, anyway. It didn’t seem as though Newt understood how wholly that moment changed things for you. He was too sweet, too gentlemanly, to think of it as anything other than a moment between friends.

“Try to keep up, Mr. Scamander.” You forged ahead, unable to stand beside him for longer than was necessary.

Eventually, your trek up the mountainside proved fruitful. Newt once again led the way up. The heat only worsened, but that was to be expected when the stone underfoot was blackened and cracked. Any plants that may have grown from crevices in the rock were turned into small piles of ash, blown about by the wind. Which, as it happened, was not wind at all. The second thing to catch the eye of one Mr. Newt Scamander, was the flurry of movement from above. He placed his hand out behind him, palm facing you, and brought a finger to his lips. Then he pointed up.

Above, on an outcropping of stone, giant wings beat the air and battered against the rocks. Occasionally, chunks of char and sediment were flung down or broke off. The sound of the dragon’s beating wings paired with the gusts of wind against your skin. You had not been listening to the rage of mother nature. Instead, it had been the hatchling. With a look of concern, Newt pulled out two sets of thick, rubbery gloves and black, sturdy goggles. No words were exchanged as each of you donned the new accessories. The fire-resistant material felt strange against the skin, but otherwise did not offer much inconvenience. Just as Newt turned to lead you up to the outcropping, a massive chain swung down. It rattled evilly, smacking down across several sharp protrusions, and barely missed the Magizoologist.

Newt pressed himself flush with the mountain and tugged you with him. “Careful! She must have tangled herself up when landing.”

The chain rose up through the air once more and now it was obvious that with each attempt at flight, the flapping was accompanied by rattling and creaking. Before, you had watched the pretty, pale creature take off into the sky but now she was grounded. A plume of searing blue flame spread out and up into the sky. The smell of burnt hair caused your stomach to twist.

Looking to the man currently under the employment of the ‘Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau’ you began, “Mr. Scamander–”

He said your name, “It’s Newt. Please. Newt is far shorter and works best in cases such as these.”

You started again, “Merlin’s beard! Alright, Newt. How do you propose we get up there?”

“It’s far too dangerous to go up now, she’ll knock us off or roast us.” He chuckled lightly. “But it’s too dangerous to leave her up there alone. Those chains have to come off.”

“How do you calm a Swedish Short-snout?” You leaned closer to him as another, smaller chain whips by.

"You know," He looked at you. "I am not entirely sure."

176 notes · View notes

oldmanffucker · 4 months

Text

On Stede learning to mend.

Stede grew up rich rich, wanting for nothing. He wasn’t a very rough and tumble kid, but he was known to play pirates and go into craggy places to retrieve a beautiful flower, and it was one of these time when he tore his trousers.

And oh, his father would be so livid. Sure they could afford new pants but they’d just gotten these and his father would have told him he’s ungrateful and a hundred other cruel things. He was friendly with all the people who worked for the family, especially the kind cook. He tip toed to where he knew she would be - if not the kitchen, then the garden - and beseechingly showed her the tear in his pants. It was her who showed him how to mend - this time he watched, rapt, and next time he asked to learn.

He wasn’t always the most skilled with a needle and thread, but he loved the quiet thrill of being able to care for his things, and, later, to be able to care for his kids’ things. He wanted them to know it was okay to play and tear your clothes, he had a needle and thread.

It came in handy later on his ship countless times, but never more than after that reunion, the furniture the least of the storm wreckage. He would sit by candlelight, glasses on the tip of his nose, listening to the lapping of the waves and the light snores of the crew, and sew the curtains and the upholstery; recalling as much as he could about stitching patches and darning holes, and hoping Ed could see it as the olive branch it was.

#ofmd #text post #edward teach #stede bonnet #hc #stede Mends

34 notes · View notes

lutiaslayton · 11 months

Text

I’m very much buried under a giant pile of scientific papers due to me having to write my thesis, but I still had to share my joy at today’s random Layton epiphany:

I can finally come to terms with Katrielle’s game and anime existing. In fact, I can come to terms and live peacefully with everything Layton-related existing. Heck, even Cheerful Mystery while we’re at it! Because there’s more than just one continuity and everything is canon, just within the confines of more than only one timeline.

Just take Katrielle’s entire series. If you thought that it was taking place after the six main games and movie, then none of it makes sense, if only because Flora doesn’t seem to be here, and the entirety of the prequel trilogy (aka three games and a movie) were literally Thanos snapped out of existence.

In the anime, when Marina shows that Luke made charms as reminders of the cases he solved with Layton, there are only charms for the first trilogy. Nothing about the prequels. Characters such as Emmy, Descole/Desmond, the Stansbury gang, Janice & Melina, are never mentioned, and despite Layton and Luke having disappeared for an entire decade, none of these competent people went to look after them? This simply doesn’t make any sense. If Layton and Luke ever met these people like they did in the main games, then the moment these people would have learned about them going missing, at the very least Emmy, perhaps Descole, and probably the Stansbury gang as well, would have gone on a literal rampage looking for them.

But then consider: what if this is an alternate timeline in which the prequel trilogy really didn’t take place? What if Flora, after the events of Curious Village, decided to stay in St Mystere instead of following Layton and Luke to London? Hey, all of that suddenly makes a lot more sense.

In that case though, why didn’t the prequel trilogy happen (assuming Flora’s decision to stay in St Mystere would simply be a butterfly effect consequence of an entire trilogy + movie being erased)? Could there be one single event that could justify such major events… never existing?

I can think of one. One very dark and tragic one, but one that could explain everything.

In the Katrielle timeline, Desmond Sycamore died alongside his wife and daughter.

There was no prequel trilogy, because there was no Descole.

The Tritons likely moved back to London early enough, around the same time as they did at the end of Last Specter, perhaps because Clark and Brenda’s team never found the Golden Garden and they decided to do something else. Anyway, there was nothing stopping Clark from leaving Misthallery, since Jakes had no reason to change Evan Barde’s will in order to make him mayor.

With the Tritons back to London and reuniting with Layton, Luke probably became his apprentice/assistant early enough after they saved a cat down a tree or something.

There could be a number of reasons why Emmy was never sent to spy on Hershel Layton. Perhaps Bronev felt bad for killing one of his sons and decided to leave the remaining one alone, for a change?

Hershel Layton never got to reunite with the Stansbury gang. Randall is probably still missing, leaving peacefully his life in Craggy Dale, unaware.

Hershel Layton never got to learn about his origins. Roland and Lucille probably ended up suspecting that something happened to the Sycamores, but they never had the heart to tell their son that not only did they hide from him that he used to have a brother… But also that said brother is now dead.

There could be many reasons why either Layton and Luke decided not to take Flora in, or Flora decided to stay in St. Mystere. Perhaps Layton simply didn’t learn that many lessons about the importance of family and adoption or something. He’s just a gentleman doing his thing, and Luke is his only companion.

It took much longer for Targent to find the three sites and unlock the Azran Legacy. Perhaps they never did. Perhaps they actually succeeded, eventually, and were wiped out by the golems due to not having been able to gather the five people required as a sacrifice in time.

Perhaps, thankfully, various governments from countries all around the world managed to prevent the world from ending completely by finding a somewhat peaceful agreement (Aurora certainly helped a lot with that, and likely became the human-golem ambassador). Perhaps the golems eventually accepted that an entire planet would indeed suffice as a place to live free, even if that planet isn’t Earth.

Perhaps the golems are still in contact with humanity and now want to get a job in the UK, because why not.

#professor layton #katrielle and the millionaire's conspiracy

83 notes · View notes

lupinus-bicolor · 2 years

Text

Red dead gang + flowers

Arthur Morgan - Dudleya cymosa; Canyon liveforever, native to California cliff faces and craggy areas, thrives in the sun and blooms vibrant red and orange cymes. Pointed rosettes of succulent leaves form the base which sends out a delicate bloom in early summer. This flower is also the one found in the terrarium jar on Arthur's bedside table.

Tilly Jackson - Helianthus annuus; Common sunflower, a showy plant native to grasslands in the US, its undomesticated form is a branching annual plant with many flower heads. Its domesticated form is an important food crop grown both for its seeds and seed oil. It's common in sunny gardens, where its unmistakable bright blooms attract pollinators. Commonly symbolizes longevity and adoration.

Sean Maguire - Tripolium pannonicum; Sea aster, native to Ireland, a very hardy plant that requires very little to thrive. Showy purple blooms usually a bit ruffled, but all the brighter in their seaside environments.

Charles Smith - Quercus alba; White oak, a staple crop for thousands of years, white oaks of the Quercus genus are amongst the most important habitat species for wildlife in North America. These trees provide food, shelter, fuel, and fertilizer for countless native flora and fauna, and oaks are among the few trees that thrive in both open fields and sheltered forests. Their diminuitive flowers (catkins) are wind pollinated and mature into thousands of acorns per tree every 2-10 years. Traditionally associated with bounty, wisdom, and protection. (Not a flower in the traditional sense, but catkins do count and white oak really REALLY suited Charles so I'm putting this in)

Dutch Van Der Linde - Pueraria montana; Kudzu vine, a hardy, subtropical plant introduced to the US with bright sweet pea flower spikes in spring. Rapidly spreads to completely cover native flora, shading out and crushing plants and depleting habitat for mutualistic wildlife. This vine is a noxious invasive in the southern US.

Hosea Matthews - Triticum aestivum; Wheat, grown as a staple crop around the world, wheat has many uses and is considered the backbone of western cuisine. Often grown in wide monocrop fields, mature wheat's golden color makes for a striking image. Commonly symbolizes bounty and resurrection. (Yes, grass (Poaceae) is a flowering plant family!)

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Viola riviniana; Common dog violet, native to europe, its nodding purple blooms can be found along roads and creeks in lightly shaded areas. Flowers in this genus traditionally symbolize modesty and humility.

Abigail Roberts/Marston - Rudbeckia hirta; Black-eyed Susan, a popular midwest native wildflower common in gardens for its sunny florets and contrasting center. Its association with gardening is a long established one, and traditionally symbolizes encouragement, adaptability, and determination.

Molly O'Shea - Passiflora alata; Winged-stem passionflower, a species native to the south American tropics and known for its visually distinctive red petals and exotic striped filaments. A delicate looking nodding flower with an edible fruit, commonly cultivated for its medicinal benefits and its beauty.

This post got very long! I will make a part two to save you the effort of scrolling <3

#rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Botany #Long post #Arthur Morgan #Tilly Jackson #Sean Macguire #Dutch van der Linde #Hosea Matthews #Mary Beth Gaskill #Abigail Roberts #Molly O'Shea #*combines my two special interests*

322 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 1 year

Text

A Second Chance at Life

Part 3 of A Second Chance at Love

Jack Daniels x female reader Zach Wellison x female OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 22.7k Warnings: Mentions of: homelessness, hunger, discrimination, human trafficking, past military service, classicism. Cursing, alcohol/food, awkward flirting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, just a touch of a praise kink. Summary: Junior returns to Statesman after a mission with a civilian in tow. Ready to go to bat to Ginger to get Zach a place as a Statesman agent, it shouldn’t be surprising that the whole Daniels family is ready to adopt the young man as well. Especially Jack and his beloved wife’s youngest and most mischievous daughter. ✨This piece can absolutely be read as a stand alone!✨ Notes: Set 23 years after the original ‘A Second Chance at Love’, this part 3 is a celebration of TWO YEARS worth of writing collaborations between myself and absurdthirst. Keri is a divine angel of inspiration and a true friend and I truly don’t know what I would do without her. Thank you for being there through thick, thin, and everything in between. I would not be who I am without the friendship and support you’ve shown me over the last two years. 🧡🧡

Part 1 ~ Part 2

"Jack!" When the alert on your watch goes off letting you know that the Statesman jet is about to touch down, you fully abandon the tray of chips, dips, and appetizers that you were putting together on the kitchen counter and go to poke your head out onto the back deck where Jack is sitting with a glass of Statesman Reserve and a book. "Put the burgers on the grill, honey. I'm going to go pick up Junior from the jet and Janey should be over with the other kids soon."

Anytime Junior comes home from a mission, it's cause for celebration. The whole family descends on the big ranch house and a mountain of cheeseburgers gets demolished to welcome him back again. Your twin girls are grown now, beautiful young women in their own right who dote on and challenge their brother in equal measure, and Junior and Janey's three kids are finding their own footing in the world. The family you thought you had lost for such a long time has materialized around you and become something worthy of gratitude, and you have never taken a day for granted.

Retirement has its own set of challenges, just like getting old does. Groaning, his joints protest slightly as he sets the book down and rocks himself forward to push up out of the chair. “Yes ma’am.” He grunts, tossing you a craggy grin that isn’t quite as lecherous as it might have been about ten years before, but Jack Daniels is still a man who is besotted with his wife. “As long as you give me a kiss before you go.”

"Well, of course," you roll your eyes at him like he's crazy for even asking, but Jack hasn't taken a day for granted either. He still makes sure to show and tell you just how much he loves you every single day. Stepping out onto the deck, you wrap him up in a hug and inhale the familiar scent of his cologne with a grin before tipping your head back to kiss him. You move a little faster than he does these days but it's only because you've done a bit less damage to your body over the years – party planning not having been nearly as physical a job as being a secret agent. "I love you, sweetheart."

“I love you too, darlin’.” Jack promises, the kiss more tender than passionate, but the bone deep resignation of love carries through the simple gesture. “I’m throwin’ some extras on since the grandkids seem to be eatin’ everything in sight.”

“Tucker is trying to bulk up for senior year.” The way it makes you grin is the picture of grandmotherly indulgence. Your youngest grandchild - Junior and Janey’s younger son Tucker - had taken after his older brother in every way. Miles started playing football in middle school, so Tucker did also. Of course, now Miles is working on his medical degree and Tucker is about to start his senior year of high school. Time flies.

“Sounds like Tucker.” Jack shakes his head and pats your ass as you turn, pulling out of his arms. “I’ll even throw on a few of those veggie burgers on the grill for Sam.”

“I put two on a separate tray, and her vegan cheese.” Though the twins were born barely two minutes apart and have been basically inseparable their whole lives, Sam and Riley have grown into very individual women. Sam has joined the front of the Statesman Operation as a distiller, and recently jumped from simple vegetarianism into veganism in solidarity with her wife. So far the hardest transitions for her are actually for her family, and not for her at all. “You’re a good father, Jack. You know that.”

“Try to be.” Jack grins, thinking about the three children that he is damned proud to be called their father. “Never thought I’d ever be able to say that a few years ago.” He reminds you. “Gotta prove myself, to myself.”

“You’re a damn good daddy and a damn good granddaddy, too.” You pause for one more kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “I gotta go get Junior. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Jack chuckles and nods. “I won’t. You just now got it decorated the way you like it.” You are always redecorating or changing something and he loves it.

“It only took me twenty-three years.” Tossing him a cheeky grin, you head for the front door and grab your purse to go pick Junior up from the airstrip.

He knows why. For a long time, you still expected a knock to come. A phone call to tear you away from the life you had with him. Changing things up meant you could focus on a goal, a reminder you were still here. Jack hums, turning on the speakers and playing some music as he fires up the grill and moseys into the house to get the burgers.

******

“We should be on the ground in five minutes.” Junior checks his watch, forcing himself to stop pacing and down the rest of his drink so he can sit for the jet’s descent. He hasn’t technically broken any rules, having gotten the all-clear from Ginger Ale to go ahead and bring a civilian back to Statesman, but the knot in his stomach says that not everyone is going to like it. This man, though? This man saved his life. With astonishing skill, no less, and then turned out to be a military veteran with nowhere to turn. Jack Daniels Jr. has made plenty of sacrifices for his work or for his family, but he has never left someone helpless when he could be their helping hand. His mother taught him better than that.

Zach looks up at the man who has insisted that he come back with him to Kentucky, of all places. He can tell that he’s nervous. “Look, I can just— leave.” Zach offers, drying his hands on his borrowed jeans and shrugging. The streets of Kentucky can’t be too different from where he was. “You already bought me dinner.” All for picking up a weapon and pulling a trigger. It had been instinct. Seeing someone running through the park that was being chase by a group of armed men, he had leapt into action when one of the rifles had been dropped. Picking it up, aiming and pulling the trigger without a second thought.

"No, no, no." The Statesman agent shakes his head, telling himself to relax as he sits down across from the ex-Marine. His knee pops a little but that's a small complaint for a man old enough to have a grown daughter. "The thing is, Zach," he glances at the younger man from under his Stetson. "You've got faster reflexes than most - maybe all - of the recruits I've seen over the years. You said what you did was instinct, but those are some damn impressive instincts."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “Preservation of self of what the psychologist told me.” Not that he had a lot of help after he got back stateside. Once he had his discharge papers it was ‘good luck and don’t let the door hit you’.

"It takes a strong character to still have a sense of self and not dissolve into apathy during hard times." He had come close to it himself, as a teenager in Witness Protection, but he had been lucky enough to have his mother to think about when he couldn't see to taking care of himself. Junior shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms together and looking straight ahead at the young man in front of him. "I'd like to offer you a job. Not one specific one, but Statesman is a big operation and there are a lot of different opportunities for someone like you." Does he have one specific job in mind? Of course. But being an agent isn't for everyone, and more than anything he just wants to help this man who saved his life.

“Why?” Zach’s suspicions are caused by the nearly three years he’s spent on the streets. Almost thirty years old and the only thing to his name is what is in his pack. Since leaving the military, not one damn person has offered him anything more than platitudes. “You don’t owe me anything.”

"I owe you my life," Junior tells him honestly. "But I'm afraid that would be a pretty shitty life to hand to you, all things considered. And my mama taught me not to give used gifts." He shrugs slightly, feeling the jet start to descend. "Military vets get dealt a raw fucking, deal, Zach. Pardon my language. You deserve to have a life you can be proud of."

Zach clenches his jaw, not answering that. It was true and it stung. He had gotten a raw deal, but he also knows that he’s too damn proud for charity. “You never told me what the hell got you into that situation.”

"My work." He has to stay intentionally vague until he can bring Zach to meet Ginger, and he knows that won't happen until after dinner. Dinner is mandatory. Even with nearly half his life spent in Kentucky with his father, he still never misses a family meal for anything short of a mission. "The man you shot would absolutely have tried to kill me if he'd gotten a hand on me. Unfortunately not the first time a man's tried that, but that's the life I chose."

The other man can’t help but snort at that. “Well, it looks like you get paid better than the military.” He says, looking around the sleek jet. “Swear I’ve heard of Statesman before.”

"Definitely get paid better than the military." Junior chuckles at that, topping his hat back. "Statesman is whiskey. Best sour mash in the world, bar none." It's so much more than that, but he can save that tidbit of information for later.

“And whiskey equals guns….” it’s not a question, because Zach feels like Jack won’t answer it. But something else is going on. “I’m not being kidnapped and forced to have genetic testing performed on me, am I?”

The specificity of the question is what makes Junior bust out laughing, and he shakes his head while he waves off the younger man's concern. "No, but my son is pre-med so if you start hearing a lot of gruesome talk out of him it's just academic curiosity, not a threat."

“Wow.” There’s an undercurrent of bitterness there that can’t be hidden, but it’s not directed towards Jack or his son. It’s more a shot at his own life choices that have obviously turned out so well. “You don’t look old enough to have a kid pre-med.”

"I appreciate that." Never one to deny being proud of his family, Junior straightens his back a little and unconsciously flexes the hand that bears his wedding ring. "Wife and I were young when we got married. Miles is actually the middle child." Like any proud father, he is immediately digging into his pocket for his wallet to show off pictures of his kids. Having gotten the all-clear to bring Zach back to Louisville, he knows that the young vet is going to meet his family anyway. No harm in showing him a photo a few minutes in advance. "There. That's my wife Janey, our oldest Becca, and the two boys are Miles and Tucker."

“You have a beautiful family.” Zach sincerely means that, a little envious at the happy family in the picture. He had always imagined that kind of life for himself, it had just never worked out.

"It isn't always easy, but hard work is worth it." He sits back again and slides his wallet into the pocket of his jacket. "Listen. I don't intend to force anything on you, or to tie you up into something that you're not happy with. That's not the point here." Loyalty at Statesman was earned through respect and hard work, not kidnapping. Although ironically there sometimes was a bit of light relocating involved - like with this flight. "If there isn't a job at Statesman that you think you can be happy with, then you go ahead and say so. I'll have this jet bring you wherever in the world you want to be dropped off and you can pretend you never met me or even heard of Louisville, Kentucky. Just give it a week to decide. Is that a deal?"

Zach looks around the plane again, aware that the shower he had taken an hour earlier was first hot shower he’s had in peace in a long time. The few times he could get a bed at the local shelter, the water was cold and he had worried about people stealing his meager belongings. “Doesn’t look like I have anywhere else to be.” Zach chuckles, lifting the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched before to his lips. Humming at the taste. “And this is good.”

When the jet touches down a few minutes later, the flight attendants have little to do but bid their passengers a good day and go about tidying up. Junior leads the way, chuckling softly to himself when he steps out onto the mobile stairs and sees the familiar black pickup truck waiting for him. The Bronco died years ago, but that has never stopped his father from having a truck. "Looks like our ride is here," he tells Zach, pointing down to the tarmac just as you pop out of the front seat to wave.

Zach frowns slightly, shuffling his bag over his shoulder and hums. “That’s your mom?” He asks, surprised because you certainly don’t look old enough to be his mother. But he has just seen a picture of Jack’s wife.

"My parents were high school sweethearts. I guess young love sort of runs in the family." With a hearty slap on the shoulder, Junior leads Zach down the stairs toward the truck and quickly shoots a text off to Ginger letting her know that they've landed and will be in to see her as soon as she wants.

"I only asked for a postcard from LA, Junior." Your instinct is to tease a little, knowing that whatever might have caused your son to bring home a civilian and not immediately sweep them off to Ginger's office to be debriefed must be quite a story. Keeping things lighthearted until you know more details is really all you can do considering the classified nature of Junior's work as Agent Absinthe. "Looks like you brought home a friend instead?"

“Mom, this is Zach Wellison.” Junior rests his hand on the other man’s shoulder, feeling the way it rounds slightly in self-consciousness, even though he is wearing a clean set of clothes from Junior’s own bag, with the promise that his own clothes would be cleaned as soon as possible. He introduces Zach to you, telling him your name. “Zach pulled my ass out of the fire, and I decided he would be a damn good fit at Statesman.”

"Well that's a hell of a compliment." The polite thing would be to offer him a handshake, but hearing that this man saved your son's life has you offering him a grateful hug instead – the instinct of a mother still very attached to her son after going through so much together. "Are you hungry, Zach? We've got burgers on the grill at home and all kinds of things to go with them. Family dinner always includes a brave man."

“I don’t want to impose.” The snacks on the plane hadn’t been touched but there’s no mistaking the grumble of his stomach when you mention burgers. It’s been a few days since he’s had a proper meal.

"It's not an imposition at all. I insist." You urge them toward the truck, which has more than enough room for the three of you, and smile when your son tosses his bag in the back without hesitation. "Junior, text your sisters and let them know you're back? I swear getting Sam away from the stills is like pulling teeth these days and your father is making her veggie burgers without a fuss tonight."

“Damn. Junior whistles, sounding impressed. He waggles his brows. “That’s something akin to a miracle.” He tosses Zach a grin. “Dad is a ‘meat is king’ kinda guy. And grillin’ is his specialty. Making veggies burgers hurts his soul.”

The three of you climb into the truck and head for home. It's a short drive with the ranch being just outside of Statesman property, but it's enough for you to note that the civilian your son has brought home with fairly quiet but highly alert. He seems to notice everything but only takes it in without comment. You chat about light things for a little while before refocusing your attention on your visitor. "Are you from California originally, Zach?"

“Yes ma’am.” Zach answers quietly, finding the lush green hills in the background very tranquil. “Sacramento area originally.”

The ma'am catches your attention and you glance over at your son while you drive. "Sacramento's Army and Air Force country, isn't it?" You ask, though you know your casual tone doesn't erase the point of the question.

“I was a Marine.” He snorts, smirking slightly before he remembers there’s nothing to actually be proud about anymore. “Went against tradition.”

"Junior's father was a Navy pilot. Seems like every branch has its ups and downs, but we honour service in our family. Thank you for yours." Though you get the sense from his reaction that he might not be too glad about the decision in hindsight, you would just consider his sacrifices all the more worth recognizing because of it. "How long have you been stateside, if you don't mind my asking?"

“Three years, five months and six days.” Zach supplies easily, having kept up with the time since he had been discharged eight months after he had come back from his final deployment. “Ma’am.”

"Well, you'll still find plenty of 'sir' and 'ma'am' around here and plenty of folks following orders, but Statesman is a lot more laid back than service, thank goodness. And the food is infinitely better."

"Does that mean you made cobbler?" Junior asks, sitting up in his seat like he's suddenly twelve again as he looks over at Zach. "She makes a blueberry and peach cobbler that I swear must have magic in it."

The compliment is sweet, if a little overblown, but you nod as you drive. "I made it with vegan butter for your sister, but don't tell anybody until they start eating it. I want to see if anyone notices."

“You know dad will taste the difference.” Junior laughs and shakes his head. “He swears he can taste the chemicals.”

"He swears up and down," you agree to that, but the smile on your face turns sly. "But I made shrimp and grits last night with vegan butter and oat milk and he had seconds."

Junior grins and looks back at Zach. “My younger sister’s wife is vegan and she just went down the rabbit hole with her. Hence the recipe changes.”

"We just want to make sure Vanessa and Sam are always able to eat with family." Not to mention that your whole family adores Vanessa and were glad to welcome her into the family. Having Sam marry so early was only a minimal surprise. After all, like Junior had told Zach earlier, young love runs in your family.

“You said you had two sisters. Twins?” He asks, wanting to keep everyone straight. “So you have three kids and three grandchildren?” That question is directed towards you.

"Exactly right." Directing the car off the highway toward the ranch, you nod to your son's guest and smile. "We had Junior right after we were married, and his sisters quite a while later. Sam and Riley are around the same age as our grandkids - that's Junior and Janey's three. Actually, the twins and their niece Becca were all born the same year."

Eyes widening in surprise, Zach absorbs the idea that the younger sisters of Junior are younger than he is. “Wow.”

"It's unconventional." You can admit that readily, and you love your big family full of very different and very strong personalities. "But it works for us." In the distance, the top of the ranch house comes into view and you point it out on the tree line. "There's the ranch. We'll be home in no time."

The house is big, and gorgeous. He’s awestruck by the larger house, then the slightly smaller one just a few hundred feet away. “Is it a working ranch?” Zach asks, seeing horses out in pastures. All of this speaks of a lot of money.

"Small, but yes." It makes you shake your head as you turn down the long road that is your driveway. "My husband decided he wanted to retire from his main career on the early side and amp up the ranch work. There's a bit of breeding and sale, but we also have a stable for show horses and teachers that give lessons."

“What did your husband do? After he got out of the Navy?”

Your eyes tick quickly up to the rear-view mirror to see your son subtly shake his head. A civilian answer, then. “He worked for Statesman.” You tell Zach. “From security guard all the way up to CEO.”

“CEO?” No wonder they have a ranch. “That’s impressive.” There’s more that’s not being said, but it’s not his place to ask.

“Things were hard for us in the beginning, so we make sure that we never turn anyone away.” Which is, you suspect, why Zach is here with Junior. The former military man is wearing your son’s clothes, after all. That is a fairly large clue.

Zach’s mouth snaps shut, shame and the anger from that shame nearly making him ask you to stop the truck. He doesn’t want pity and he’ll be damned if he has anyone look down on him for his circumstances.

There are a half dozen cars in the driveway by the main house when you park the truck, all telling you that you’re the last to arrive. A group of three is passing a frisbee in the yard and music is pouring out of hidden speakers, but the real commotion is out in the back deck where your kids and grandkids are digging into appetizers like there’s no tomorrow and the twins are in the middle of a hot debate with their father at the grill. This is as much a family party as it is any regular Sunday - it just so happens that your Sundays usually turn into parties when everybody is able to show up.

Zach climbs out of the pickup, hanging back as if he is hesitant to get near. This is obviously a family function and he doesn’t belong here.

“Come on,” Junior doesn’t let him shrink away, one hand patting his shoulder but not pushing. “There’s always at least a couple of friends at these things.” To prove his point, he directs Zach’s attention to the frisbee players. “That’s my oldest and my youngest. But the third kid is somebody my youngest knows from school. Couldn’t tell you the kid’s name if I tried, but he comes around sometimes. And playing with the dog? That’s one of the guys my wife and daughter work with. I promise I didn’t bring you into the middle of something I thought would be awkward.”

“I don’t know.” Zach huffs. “I don’t want to intrude. Just— point me towards Statesman and I’ll walk and tour the grounds.” He smirks sardonically. “I’m an outdoors specialist after all.”

“We’ll go after dinner,” Junior promises, fully ignoring the joke made at Zach’s own expense. “You want a drink? I don’t know what else is here but there’s always cold beer and good whiskey.”

It’s been so damn long since Zach’s had a cold beer in a relaxed atmosphere. He nearly drools at the thought. “Yeah— I guess a beer will be alright.” He concedes. “Just one.”

“Sure thing.” Leading Zach through the yard behind you, Junior stops to say hi to Janey and the frisbee players, introducing Zach as he goes. There are handshakes and greetings and hugs all around, and you make it up on to the porch to say hello to your girls before they make it halfway through the yard.

“Jay brought home a civilian?” Sam asks quietly, sipping her whiskey as she watches them closely. The girls had long-since picked up on Janey’s nickname for their brother and liked it better than calling him Jack or Junior.

“Yes he did,” you nod and turn to hug Riley next. “And I haven’t gotten the whole story yet, so be nice.”

“We’re always nice, Mom.” Riley contends, although there is a smirk in the corner of her mouth when she says it.

Sam snorts. “Yeah? Since when?” Riley is older by two minutes and she never misses an opportunity to remind Sam of that fact. “Where you nice when you told that old breeder to go choke on a horse co—”

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Riley interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I’m nice.” She huffs dramatically. “But that old bastard deserved that.” She contends.

That earns a laugh from you and Jack, who both disliked that particular breeder despite his good work. It was a blessing to be rid of him. “Here,” you hum, handing off two bottles of beer from the cooler to your younger daughter. “Go say hi to your brother.” “Yes ma’am,” she chuckles, accepting the bottles and grabbing the magnetic bottle opener from the side of the grill. “Jaaaaay!” She calls out, trotting down the steps with drinks in hand. "I've got beeeer!"

Turning automatically to the sound of someone shouting, at first Zach is anticipating anger. Until he catches the face of the woman practically racing for him and Junior— not Jack like he had introduced himself as after the firefight. His heart leaps up into his throat and he swears he nearly stops breathing, she’s so pretty and carefree.

"Thanks, Ri." Junior takes both bottles and offers one to Zach, not missing the slightly dumbstruck look on his new acquaintance's face at all. "Riley, this is my new friend Zach." He nods to his sister, miraculously without smirking. "Zach, Riley is the younger of the twins. My baby sister."

"Nice to meet you, Zach." She offers the new arrival her hand brightly, cheery vibrancy making a good cover for how hard her heart starts pounding when he looks up and meets her eyes. His irises are the colour of freshly brewed coffee and his jaw looks like it was cut by a Grecian master sculptor, making Riley practically gulp down a breath. "I—um—it's...I mean...welcome."

“Hi.” Zach takes the beer up to his lips to hide the small smile that Riley managed to bring out. “So your ‘Jay’s’ sister?” He asks before he turns towards the other man. “How many damn names do you have?”

"Three." He shrugs, except the answer is actually four. Agent Absinthe isn't exactly a nickname so much as a title and it's not one used outside of work. "Jack Daniels Junior gives two out of the three. My wife and sisters call me Jay."

“I see.” Zach raises a brow, nodding at the obvious. “So I’m guessing that your father is Jack Senior?”

"Found where all fathers can be found," Riley smirks and points up at the deck where the grill is the center of all activity. "At the grill. But if you guys want any of the salsa or guac that Mom made you better get in there. Tucker brought a friend and teenage boys are bottomless pits."

As much as Zach’s stomach rumbles at the thought of fresh salsa and guacamole, he nods politely and sips his beer. “Thanks.”

"You guys make friends, I'll be right back." Junior glances between his sister and his potential recruit with a twinkle of amusement before he nods and makes off in the direction of the deck.

Shuffling slightly, Zach glances her way, struck again by how pretty she is before he reminds himself there is no way this woman would be interested in him. “So did you grow up here?” He asks, rolling his eyes as soon as it comes out of his mouth. What a dumb fucking question.

Riley catches the way he rolls his eyes at himself and grins, smothering a very uncharacteristic giggle. "That's my room in the top floor corner." She points, indicating the set of windows with linen-colored curtains in it. "Kentucky born and raised, unlike my brother. But my guess is you're not from around here? Since you came home on the jet with Jay, I mean." For some reason the ability to form an original or interesting question has escaped her, but that's probably from the man beside her.

“California.” Zach bobbles his head, glancing up at the window, wondering if it was a nice view out of the window. It must have been to grow up in a place like this.

"I've never been." And why that makes her dig the toe of her boot into the grass is completely beyond her. "It looks pretty in the movies, though. For whatever that's worth, she's definitely not at the top of her game tonight.

“Don’t bother.” Zach huffs. “It might be nice to visit some areas.”

"Not a big fan of California, got it." She nods and shoves one hand into the pocket of her jeans while she takes a sip of her beer. "Well...maybe you'll like Kentucky better?"

“Sorry.” His shoulders roll back, aware he’s sounding like a complete asshole. “The last few years haven’t been the best, so I guess I’m bitter.” That’s putting it mildly, but she wants small talk, not a pity party.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It pulls her attention, though, bringing her eyes up from her toes to find his. "I know we just met, but if you need to vent or whatever..." she shrugs, hearing exactly how strong she's coming on, but there's no chance he would ever be interested in her. It's just being friendly to someone that her older brother brought back from a mission. And it's not like that had happened more than one other time ever.

“You don’t want to hear about it.” Zach huffs. “But thanks. It’s a nice thought.” In what way could this beautiful, rich girl ever commiserate with him? He shrugs. “Junior said to come to Kentucky, and I had nothing better to do. Might not work out. Rarely does.”

"I hate to admit it, but my brother is rarely wrong," she admits, sipping her beer again. "When he has an instinct about a person he's right about ninety-five percent of the time." He had certainly been right about the last guy she'd brought home to meet the family, a fact which stings a little and makes her frown instinctively before she quickly recovers. "Well...come on, Zach from California. Nothing helps smooth over meeting new people like alcohol and food, and we can make both of those things happen."

He hadn’t been going to approach the food by himself, so being dragged over helps. You are standing next to an older version of Jack, so much so that Zach has to blink. Hanging on to his arm and laughing like the picture-perfect family. “You know, being from Kentucky, you don’t have an accent.”

"Yeah, it, uh...it turns out that if you go to a college in New York City to be an engineer and you're a cowboy boot wearing Southern girl with a country accent, nobody takes you seriously." The way Riley rolls her eyes is an obvious cover for a deeper hurt, but she taps her boots on the stairs as they walk up to the food. "I phased it out pretty quickly during freshman year. Not that it eliminated the problem of people assuming girls can't do math, but at least it lessoned the jokes a little."

“Shit. Girls are a shit ton smarter than guys.” Zach snorts then shakes his head. “Sorry about the language.”

"Please, I'm not delicate. Swear all you want." As if to prove it, she scoops up a chip full of guacamole and crunches down with a happy moan of contentment.

An innocent moan over a chip and guac shouldn’t make him think pornographic thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about what he could do that would make her make that sound, but it does. He’s lucky that he wasn’t drinking, otherwise he would have choked to death on beer. His cock twitches in extreme interest and he swallows harshly.

“Seriously, try some,” Riley urges. It’s not like she’s oblivious, but she also doesn’t fully process that the hungry look on Zach’s face is more about her and less about the food.

“O-okay.” Zach moves over to grab a chip, anything to take his mind off the way she sounded.

It doesn’t help that she reaches for another chip at the same time, unleashing the sound all over again right before Zach takes a bite. If she had had any idea of how drastic his reaction was, though? Well…she probably would have closed her eyes and tilted her head back just to give him a good visual along with the sound. Zach chokes on the chip, coughing and sputtering as the damn corn chip threatens to go down the wrong pipe. Making him slap himself on the chest as his eyes water and he coughs.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Riley doesn’t really have a panic button but she cringes internally at his reaction and gives his back a gentle rub after he stops coughing. “No dying on us, okay? Miles is only pre-med, he’s not prepared to save lives just yet.”

“S-sorry.” He manages, coughing again one last time and taking a hasty sip of his beer. “Got caught in my throat.”

“Maybe pointy foods aren’t prime for you,” she jokes, more teasing herself with realizing exactly how broad Zach’s shoulders are than him over the chip thing.

“Maybe.” He can’t help but chuckle, even though he is kicking himself over the faux pas. His shoulder tingles where her hand is resting, making him feel like he’s being shocked.

“Better now?” Resisting the urge to offer him mouth to mouth if he should ever need it, Riley clears her throat as little and grins. “That’s alright. Swallowing is hard,” she teases, managing to continue to look completely innocent.

Zach blows out a breathe, the scandalous comment about what she can swallow on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say that. Surprised that he’s even thinking it. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s really thought about sex beyond some distant memory.

“Cat got your tongue?” Her eyebrow ticks up in curiosity.

“Apparently.” Zach grunts, rolling his eyes at himself again. “Just, trying to breathe without incident.”

“Right. Sorry.” Riley sags a little against the porch railing, feeling embarrassed. Just because she’s all hot and bothered over him doesn’t mean he is over her – and she has to remember that, since it seems like she’s the only member of the Daniels family born without the flirting gene.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Zach frowns slightly, not liking the way that she seemingly deflates in front of him. “How embarrassing would it be to survive war zones and die by a chip? I could never show my face in hell.”

“War zones?” That seems to perk her ears up, and her head tilts slightly. Curiosity is certainly one thing the Daniels kids have in spades. “You’re a vet?”

“Yeah.” Does everyone in this family like military? “Marines. Or used to be.”

“I almost went Navy,” she admits with her signature shrug. “Like my Dad. Went through a recruiter and everything. It was exciting, I was going to go right out of high school. When I went to get checked out…turns out I had some health issues we had no idea about. So I got to go get made fun of in engineering school instead.”

“I’m sorry.” Not that he believes she needed to be in the military, but it’s always crushing to learn you can’t do what you want. “I’m sure engineering is better than having creaky joints at twenty-five.”

“Everybody ends up where they’re supposed to be eventually, right?” She can sense that maybe she’s hit a sore spot, and Riley picks up her beer again wondering if maybe she just talks way too damn much.

“You could say that.” He was meant to be on the street, fuck, what a depressing thought. She doesn’t know that though, unless Junior has already told her. “So what do you do at Statesman?”

“Research and development.” Her actual work right now is in gadgets and equipment, but for the sake of the distillery’s cover story she could talk about things like the distilling process and the chemical complexities of whiskey. Everyone in the family could. “I do the science and then my twin sister does the actual brewing.”

“Hmmmm.” Zach has his doubts that a brewery is all that is going on. There’s too much that is left unsaid between Junior and his mother. Still, he takes another sip of his beer. “So isn’t this like…drinking the competition?” He asks, titling the bottle up in the air.

“If we brewed beer, sure.” The question makes Riley’s lip curl into an amused grin, though, and she takes the last swig from her own bottle. “Statesman is purely a whiskey operation, so it’s more like…embracing the community.”

"Ohhhhh." He knows that, but it's a way to extend the moment. Enjoying the slightly disjointed conversation.

“We grew up with whiskey like some people grow up with a favorite cereal.” By now it’s obvious that Riley’s most frequent gesture while she talks is to shrug. Almost as if she’s afraid of being taken too seriously or inconveniencing someone with talking too much.

“That’s cool though.” Zach insists. “I know about how to get drunk, even if I haven’t done that for years.”

"We can definitely make that happen, if you want to." After all, it's not like they don't always have an abundance of bottles of different kinds in the house. "Actually the bottle room in the cellar is pretty cool. I just upgraded the atmospheric controls about a month ago so."

“You have a bottle room in your house?” Zach’s eyes blow wide, unable to even think about that kind of luxury. The differences are stark and he’s starting to wonder if he will fit in here just working.

"Yeah, it's super fuckin' cool actually—" She flusters, setting down her empty bottle and motioning to the house. "Do you want to see? It's actually a really cool house. The whole story behind it is cute and everything."

It doesn’t sound like she is bragging, and that’s the only reason why Zach nods. “Okay.” He agrees, looking down to check to make sure there isn’t anything on him that he might dirty up the house with.

"My dad basically built the place himself." Through the porch door and into the kitchen, Riley wipes a little nervous sweat from her palms onto her jeans and shuts the door behind them. No one will even notice they're gone, she reasons, and Jay brought this guy home. So clearly she's just being friendly. Just friendly. Right. That's why she's telling him her parents' love story - because it's totally normal and friendly. "My parents were apart for a long time. Mom got mixed up in a mob thing when she was pregnant with Jay and they were in WITSEC for twenty plus years. Dad built their dream house as a kind of tribute to her. And then when they found each other again they started adding a few more things to the house here and there."

“That’s…wow. So your dad thought they were dead?” It explains the age gap between Junior and the twins. “That’s amazing and horrible.”

"Yeah, it was..." Riley shrugs as she leads him into the house, pointing out little things and pausing in front of a wall of wedding photos in the main hallway. Two photos of her parents, one of her brother and Janey, and then Sam and Vanessa's wedding photo from just last year. She's the only one missing from the wall now, but she pushes away the swimming dread that that thought conjures in her belly. "Dad talks about it like it was such a dark period for him. But they're so perfect together, I can't even imagine what they would be like apart. Either way, um...yeah. That's how the house came to be. The...the cellar is this way."

Zach glances at the photos, the ones of her parents’ wedding were obviously at different times. He had to assume one was the original and another, your father looking older and more distinguished, was a vow renewal of some sort. He’s notices she isn’t in a wedding photo of a bride and groom, having clocked the lack of ring on her hand. Not that it mattered, he just noticed. “Lead the way.”

The cellar is fully furnished, having become a playroom when the twins were little and then a dance studio for the two years they took lessons, then a practice room for their high school rock band after that – at which point it had happily been soundproofed. Now it is a games room with a card table and pool table, a large sofa, and a bar built into one wall that stood next to the glass door of the temperature-controlled bottle room. In most houses this would be a wine cellar, but not the Daniels house. This is a glorified whiskey showroom, with a few other things collected over time. Riley punches a code into the panel on the wall and shoots Zach a grin before the panel chirps and the door hisses to indicate it’s unlocked. “Come on in. It’ll be cool inside at first. Like how walking into an air conditioned building in summer makes you feel freezing for about five minutes. But this lasts about a minute max.”

“Holy shit.” Zach eyes widen at the causal luxury and the comfort that seems to be in the game room. Then the sophistication of the whiskey room. “This is better protected than most state secrets.”

"Thank you." Riley fully beams, her shoulders doing a happy little wiggle as she grins. "I designed the system and built it myself."

“This is what you do?” He’s impressed. Looking around and admiring the security. “This is damn good.”

"My sister makes the booze, and I protect it," she laughs lightly. In actuality, she worked like a cowgirl version of James Bond's Q, developing new tech that would help keep Statesman's agents safe in the field - but that's not exactly the kind of thing she can tell this new arrival. Her status as Agent Grenadine needed to stay tightly under wraps just like her brother's active field agent status and her father's former identity as Agent Whiskey. She'll take the compliment, though, enjoying the way it warms through her as they look around the bottle room together.

“So it’s a family operation.” Family is something that Zach hasn’t had in a long time. The men he called brothers had all drifted off, moved on with their lives while he had been stuck in a horrible rut.

"Sort of." He gets a nod from her as she traces her lingers along the label of a limited release bottle produced the year she was born. "There's a lot more than just our family involved, but yeah. Statesman is definitely tight-knit. Once we let somebody in..." She offers him a half-smile, knowing that Jay never would have brought him back to the house if he didn't like the guy or intend on bringing him into things eventually. "That's sort of it. You're family."

He shuffles slightly, aware that she’s trying to tell him something but he can’t quite believe it. Maybe the mangy stray dog that someone takes mercy on. Not family. “Sounds nice.” He admits quietly.

"So far nobody's run away screaming," Riley jokes, laughing awkwardly under her breath.

“With all the liquor, no one would be able to run a straight line.” Zach jokes, laughing slightly.

Riley snorts, hand barely making it up to her mouth to smother the sound, and ends up stifling a torrent of giggles in the process. All she can visualize is her beautiful, proper, and upstanding niece Becca trying to run away tipsy and it’s the funniest goddamn thing she could possibly imagine. So much so that it basically has her sagging against the wall. “That’s—” She cackles once more, trying to catch her breath. “That’s an excellent visual.”

Zach grins, the sight of her laughing at something he said is probably the most beautiful damn thing he’s ever seen. “You drink enough and tell me you can run straight. We used to drink all night and PT still drunk and it looked like we were bobbing and weaving enemy fire.”

"You paint a very vivid picture, Zach." She straight out giggles again. "And suddenly the idea of drunk PT is making me very glad I didn't end up serving."

“Yeah…” he shuffles again and gives a half grin. “It was interesting. Corporal Ivers said the beer shits motivated you to run faster.”

"I mean, I can definitely see that." From one of the racks built into the walls, Riley pulls a bottle of Statesman Blue Label - a bottle frequently shared in the Daniels family between friends or a family events. Since today sort of seems like both, it's sort of a safe choice to bring upstairs. "Have you ever had Statesman before?" She asks, not realizing her own unconscious attempt at stalling down here.

“No?” Zach admits with a small shrug. “Don’t know if I’ve really seen any besides the commercials. What kinds do you have?”

"We've got a couple of open bottles down here if you want to try?" Out in the main room, there is a bar with partial bottles worth looking through. "The Blue Label is a family favourite, but the Reserve is really good and there's a bottle of 2014 Select out there that was a really good batch. Notes of maple and vanilla with this cedar smokiness that makes me feel like I'm at a campfire in the woods every time."

“I’m really good at camping.” Zach is completely ironic and un-ironic at the same time. Camping was a part of life in the military, but the urban camping was the real adventure.

“Come on, then.” Feeling confident enough in herself to nab his hand to lead Zach out into the main room again, Riley still doesn’t look back at his face as she goes just in case he reacts poorly to the innocently flirtatious move. It’s not like she pinned him against a wall and stuck her tongue down his throat, but little touches can all add up to something fun. And Zach is extremely cute.

Shocked that she is holding his hand, Zach lets her lead him out of the whiskey room. Knowing that if she knew what he was, she would probably turn her nose up at him, he tries to just enjoy the moment. Huffing slightly as she yanks him forward. “I’m hurrying.” He promises, wondering what it is about her that relaxes him.

When he doesn’t pull away from her Riley allows herself a silent thrill and decides to open the decanter of 2014 Select and pour their shots with one hand. “Close your eyes and think of sneaking a flask into summer camp,” she tells him, offering him one of the shot glasses. Whether he chooses to shoot or sip, it’s going to be delicious either way.

“Sláinte” Zach offers, nodding to her before he puts the glass to his lips and tosses his head back. Letting the cooler than room temperature whiskey slide down his throat.

“Cheers.” This is the one time she does look him directly in the eye, remembering Jay teasing her about how you have to look someone in the eye when you drink with them or it’s seven years bad sex.

“That is….” Zach feels the burn, the warm heat sliding down his throat, but the normal wince doesn’t come. “Smooth.” He murmurs, looking at the shot glass and then back to her. “Damned smooth.”

“Isn’t it incredible?” There’s a reason this one is her favorite. It’s the ultimate hug, in Riley’s opinion. “When Sam and I turned twenty-one, we made s’mores shots with it.”

“S’mores shots, huh?” Zach huffs and shakes his head. She made drinks out of this instead of just drinking it? “Sounds fun.”

“We were twenty-one,” Riley shrugs like it was a long time ago when she sees the doubt in his eyes. “Everything had to have chocolate in it in order to be good.”

“Chocolate is good at any age.” Zach argues, although it’s been a long time since he’s had chocolate.

“You’re not wrong.” She smiles a little, feeling silly for all of this — this whole attempt to flirt a little or whatever the hell it is she’s been doing. Riley clears her throat, pouring them each another shot and handing him his glass.

“Thanks.” Zach murmurs, feeling his heart race when their fingers brush. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been offered a drink and a nice evening.”

There’s a moment where she could swear she sees him gulp down a breath, but it’s probably wishful thinking. Just projecting her own attraction onto him. Even so, she flusters at the sentiment. “Any time,” Riley murmurs with a grin. “Any time at all.”

“To—” Zach completely blanks out, the idea of saying something charming and witty completely failing him. He doesn’t flirt, or at least, he hadn’t in a long time. “Not choking to death on a chip.” He manages with a roll of his eyes.

Riley grins, letting out a small giggle at that, and holds up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

At least she hadn’t thought he was completely insane. The tips of the shot glasses clink together and Zach feels the way his entire body relaxes as the next shot goes down even smoother than the first. Riley hums at the warmth as it spreads through her limbs, just letting her enjoy the moment for what it is. Brand new attraction is something to relish after all, even if it’s fleeting or one sided. Nothing is more fun than feeling those first tugs of want.

Zach leans in, about to make a comment about how good it feels to relax when the door upstairs opens. Making him stiffen and rocks back to put the proper space between them again. Reminding himself that he’s a guest, one that is a surprise. “Ri? You down here sweetheart?” The voice of her father comes down the stairs as boots descend and Zach can hear the censure in his voice. Asking why she’s alone with the homeless man his son had dragged back to their picture-perfect home. Maybe even wondering if he’s pocketed something valuable down here.

"Just showing Zach the cellar, Dad!" Riley calls back, almost straight out laughing to herself at the timing. Right as Zach was starting to relax and she had discovered that gorgeous dimple in his cheek, her father's tingling Spy Sense had gone off. "Is dinner ready?"

“Yeah everything’s ready.” Jack descends to where he can see his daughter and the newcomer. “Let’s go eat so Junior can take Zach to Ginger.”

"Sure thing." The drawn look of suspicion on his face lightens when Riley doesn't protest or try to stall, setting down her shot glass and nodding toward the stairs for Zach to follow. After all, it's not as though she was really trying to seduce him. She wouldn't have been mad about it, but she wasn't really trying.

Jack watches the boy – man – he’s not a boy. It’s almost visible the way that his guard goes up, nearly making Jack relax slightly. There’s something about him that he wants to nurture, protect. Like he was one of his own kids. Junior told him quietly about the vet saving his skin, how he had been sleeping in the park that Junior had been chased through. His heart was compassionate, but still, where his children are concerned - he’s cautious. “Hope you like burgers.” He offers. “Plus we fried up some bacon and it’s perfect with the missus’ guacamole.”

Riley groans, the vibrating sound of hunger unapologetic as she nabs Zach’s hand again to lead him upstairs. “A bacon guac burger sounds amazing!”

Jack’s brows quirk under his Stetson, but he doesn’t comment on his daughter holding Zach’s hand. “Well, come on then.” He grunts at her. “Get your tail up here before the boys eat all of it.”

******

The meal is as exuberant and good natured as a Daniels family get together always is, with everyone nursing groaningly full stomach by the end. Everybody gets a clean up job to make things go faster, and after Junior and Zach help to clear the table the oldest Daniels boy gives his wife a kiss and promises they’ll be back soon. “C’mon,” he nods to Zach, swiping up his Stetson from where he had been sitting. “We gotta go see a lady about some arrangements for you.”

“You don’t have to go out of the way for me.” The anticipation of a gentle letdown is already hanging in the air and Zach moves towards the bag that is still in the back of the truck. “I can just hitch a ride out of town. The meal was enough.”

“It’s my boss,” Junior explains, always knowing his family would disown him if he just let Zach wander out of Louisville without help. Especially Riley. “She wants to meet you.”

“I didn’t get you into any trouble, did I?” He hadn’t expected the lack of police investigation, or the way that he had nonchalantly told whoever was in his ear about killing people, but he doesn’t want the man to lose his job.

“Not at all. If anything, Ginger’s impressed.” They climb into the truck together and head back toward the highway, bound for Statesman’s main offices. When Ginger Ale had taken over the running of Statesman from Champ ten or so years ago, the only person who was surprised at the offer was Ginger herself. Since then she’s led the agency fearlessly and honorably, giving the whole place a new sense of vibrancy.

Zach highly doubts that, but it’s easier to just go along right now. He can always leave later on when the boss is yelling at him. “Well, that’s something.”

The drive doesn't take long, just a reversal of the route they drove earlier from the airstrip out to the ranch after landing. At this time of night there aren't many people around and the cars in the lot are few, but Junior parks in a spot by the front entrance and grabs his hat again after throwing the gearshift into park. "C'mon," he encourages, as though it's his catchphrase or something. "Top floor. Right in the bottle cap."

“Well that’s a hell of a view.” Zach looks up at the large building that looks exactly like a whiskey bottle. It’s definitely a statement although he’s not quite sure what it says.

The barrel-shaped elevators give him a good chuckle, and by the time Junior is strolling into Ginger's office with a contented smile, he's pretty sure he knows how this is going to go. "Evenin', Ma'am," Junior drawls, waving Zach into the office behind him.

"Jack." Ginger looks up over the rim of her glasses at the younger Jack Daniels before her eyes move over to the more tentative man behind him. "And this would be Corporal Wellison, yes? Shut the door behind you and have a seat, gentlemen.”

Zach is unsure if he should salute the older woman, but he refrains. He’s not in uniform anymore, nor is he a corporal in the Marines. “Ma’am.” He offers politely, wondering if all the woman are just unreasonably beautiful around here. This Ginger looks like she could have modeled, even now.

“I understand I owe you some thanks.” Ginger looks to Zach directly, her steepled fingers peaking under her chin. “Jack here is one of the best men in my operation and I don’t like to think of what I’ll have to do when I don’t have him at hand any longer.”

“I didn’t do anything special.” The small shrug of Zach’s shoulders isn’t to dismiss Ginger, he had just assessed the situation and chose a side. Apparently, he had picked the right one. “Sometimes back up in a firefight is necessary when you’re pinned down.”

“That’s exactly my feeling.” She nods, looking between the two men. For the last hour she’s been absorbing Corporal Wellison’s file and reading through reports from the clean-up team that deployed to LA. A full background check on the former Marine had been very enlightening. “And it a appears that you’re a very good man to have as back up.”

“I was a Marine.” There is a bit of pride in his tone. “We didn’t leave anyone behind on the battlefield.” In real life was another story, but she isn’t interest in that.

"You're a Marine with an exceptional record and impressive marksmanship." She can't deny that, nor would she even under other circumstances. Of course Statesman had active recruitment processes, but sometimes candidates just fell right into their lap. "I understand that circumstances haven't exactly been favourable for you since you returned stateside." Ginger shifts in her large chair, moving his file forward on her desk for him to see. To show him that she's been looking into him, unapologetically. "From what I've heard and what I've read, I'd like to extend an invitation to you. Call it...an application process. Our own version of boot camp, if you will. We have room for two more people on our team here and if you're inclined? I think you'd be an excellent fit."

Zach’s eyes narrow suspiciously. The idea of boot camp had the wheels in his head turning. “Recruited for what exactly?” He asks. “I was told this is a distillery not a Blackwater group.” He looks over at Junior and wonders what the fuck he’s gotten involved with. “I’m not a merc.”

"No, you're not." A smile tugs at the corners of Ginger's lips as she sits back. "You're a gunslinger. Choosing your battles and covering a victim when you see him being pursued in a park," she gestures at Jack, knowing he isn't innocent or a victim in any way but for the purposes of this exercise. "You sound like a cowboy to me. And if you'll sign on the dotted line..." An NDA seems to materialize on the top of her desk as if from nowhere. "I'd like to introduce you to the other side of what Statesman is all about."

Seconds tick by. Probably the longest twenty seconds of his entire life. Another glance at Junior doesn’t reveal anything beyond the man’s desire for him to sign the paper. Then his eyes find Ginger. Watching her carefully and there’s a slight edge of challenge in her gaze. Enough that Zach is leaning forward and taking the pen to scrawl his signature on the line.

A quick glance down at the paper and Ginger's photographic memory are all she needs to know that that signature matches up with the others of his that she'd seen and this young man is indeed who he says he is. Good. She had been right about him being upstanding - most people would think there was no cause to lie about who you are when you have nothing, but she had found that that was exactly when people started to bend their stories to suit their situations. "Statesman is an independence intelligence agency," she explains, pressing a button on her desk that causes control panels and monitors to appear from behind previously mundane panels of wood around her. "And Jack Junior here is one of our finest agents."

He is struck dumb for a moment, eyes wide as he absorbs the way the room shifts and he frowns slightly as a million different questions pop up in his head. “Independent intelligent agency…” He repeats slowly as if he is weighing his words and reconciling them with what he is seeing. “So those men chasing you…” he turns to Junior for a full explanation.

“Were thugs hired by a human trafficking operation.” Junior sits back in his chair, tilting his Stetson back a little so there is no question that he is looking Zach in the eye while he tells him the honest truth. “They didn’t take kindly to my partner and I posing as buyers to get those girls back to their families. I drew the short straw - pulling their firepower away so the others could get to safety.”

“Then I’m glad I picked up that gun.” Zach scowls angrily at the idea of human trafficking. He’s seen a lot of that shit while he was on the streets and there was nothing he could do.

“It’s not always big operations.” Ginger warns him, seeing the righteousness in the young man’s eyes. “Sometimes it’s small. Observation. Or escorting people who have no way to protect themselves. Sometimes it’s intelligence gathering or undercover work.” Clearly proud of her agents, she does tilt her head a little and smile. “But it pays a hell of a lot better than law enforcement does and doesn’t have to answer to whatever yokel is in office at the time. We operate only on what we see as benefitting of our time. And frankly? We’re damn good.”

“And you want me?” He asks, lifting a brow as if he can’t believe it. He can’t. After the military, no one wanted him. He was used up and slightly bitter about that fact.

“I went over your service record and your background check while you were with Agent Absinthe, and on paper you’re a perfect candidate.” A part of that, unfortunately, is his utter lack of family or friend attachments. Not even a job to put his notice in at or an apartment to pack up. But for those unfortunate circumstances, Statesman could offer him a place to live with a steady paycheck and a proverbial family to have his back. “If you go through the training and decide that being a field agent isn’t for you, we have plenty of secure jobs on the ground as well.” Ginger folds her hands in front of her on her desk and smiles - something her predecessor rarely did but she thinks Zach might find comforting. “You can say no, of course. But not everyone gets a second chance at life. I sincerely hope you take us up on it.”

A second chance at life. Zach remembers what Riley had said about her parents. Twenty years without each other, one thinking that the other and the baby were dead. Only to find each other again and pick up where they left off. He wonders if he could get back a little of the man he had been before. The gun hadn’t felt as heavy in his hands the last time he turned one in with the military. It had felt right, even better now that he knew what kind of scum he had dispatched to hell. “Not like I don’t have some free time in my schedule.” He reasons, giving a slight shrug. “Might be interesting to see what kind of training you’re talking about.”

“Hot damn.” Junior laughs out loud, reaching out to slap Zach’s shoulder gleefully. “Didn’t I tell you, Ging? I knew he’d be in for it!”

“Keep it in your pants, Jack,” Ginger chuckles. It’s definitely not the first time she’s said that to a man named Jack Daniels. “Jack can show you to temporary quarters until we get your housing sorted out. There’s a cafeteria on the bottom floor of this building that feeds employees three meals a day for free, and I’ll have a company ID delivered to your room overnight. Both of you report to the training grounds at 0800 tomorrow. Any other questions for now?”

“I—” Zach stops for a moment, gathering his thoughts and then he starts again. “Thank you.” He offers quietly, aware that this invitation did not have to be extended. “Is there anything I need?” He doesn’t have a lot, but maybe his old running shoes he’s been wearing for the last four years will hold up.

“We have some things ready for you in your room to get you through until your first paycheck is cut.” She had a feeling he’d say yes based on how Jack had told the story of their encounter, but she doesn’t really want to overwhelm the young man by letting him know that the room is the extremely comfortable visiting agent’s apartment on the fourth floor, not just a room with a bed. It’s fully furnished and packed with clothes in a variety of sizes so that he’ll be able to find things that fit without having to ask for help. A little dignity, at least until they had him situated in a permanent residence. “Anything in the space you’ll be staying in, is there for you to use.”

“Thank you again.” He’s a little overwhelmed at this point. Barely hanging on to his emotions. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“I don’t expect you will, Zach.” Standing almost in unison, Ginger extends her hand to the young man and can practically feel the vibrations coming off of him. Tomorrow will be a very big day for Zach Wellison, it seems. “I sincerely hope you don’t have an aversion for Stetsons, because we’re going to have you wearing one in no time.”

“Never worn one.” He admits with a grin. “Unless you count when I was two.” There’s a few pictures he had from his childhood, one of them is him in his diaper and a cowboy hat.

"Well, we'll fix that soon enough." She nods when he takes her hand, acknowledging the leap of faith he's taken tonight. Not everyone could do it – they'd deny or lash out or even be upset at the revelation. But she has a good feeling about this man. "0800, gentlemen. I'll let Tequila know to expect you."

Even though it is her office, in the blink of an eye, Ginger has disappeared. Leaving Zach slightly bewildered until he notices the hidden door off to the side. He had been battling the intense emotions and near teared up and she was just…gone. “Now what?” Zach asks Junior.

"I can show you where you'll be staying, if you like." He offers, stepping out from the area surrounding his chair to stretch his legs. "It's an apartment a few floors down. Usually used for visiting agents from the New York office, but that just means it's ready for you now at a moment's notice."

“Are you sure I’m not putting anyone out?” Zach asks. “I thought Ginger said I would be sharing a room?” He doesn’t want any treatment that would have him set apart from everyone else.

“If you’d rather stay on the ranch, that’s fine.” It wouldn’t be the first time that either he or his father had taken in someone to stay for a while, and he knows that there is plenty of room. “Might be less lonesome.”

“There’s no way you have the room at your place, not with three kids.” He would offer to sleep on the sofa, but then people would be tip toeing around him and he didn’t want that either.

"My parents have room at the big house." Out of Ginger's office and back through the hall, Junior presses the call button on the elevator and leans against the wall. Now that Zach has accepted the invitation to stay and try Statesman on for size, he is fully relaxed. "They keep a guest room ready and Mom loves to have visitors, so it wouldn't be imposing." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Dad was a legend when he was a field agent. I'm sure he'd love a chance to bust out some old stories for someone who hasn't heard them a hundred times."

“No wonder your mom was wary about answering questions about his job.” Zach murmurs, understanding now that the entire family is in this business.

"The title of CEO is a cover for senior field agent," Junior explains when the elevator doors open. "There's all kinds of corresponding titles for civilian jobs to agency jobs." He jabs the button for the bottom floor, sure that Zach would prefer to stay at the ranch than alone in the Statesman building. "And, of course, there's some jobs that are just civilian. Like my sister Sam and her wife Vanessa? They really are both distillers."

“But not Riley?” Zach sneaks a glance over at Junior as he asks, trying to be casual about it.

The older man stifles a smirk, keeping his face totally neutral as Zach tries to be stealthy in asking about the woman he spent nearly every second of tonight with. It was abundantly obvious that Riley was attracted to Zach right off the bat, but it seems that the feeling is mutual. "Riley is in Research and Development," he explains, affecting a bored tone. His sister's work has been invaluable, actually. "She's technically an agent, but not a field agent."

He’s slightly relieved, happy she’s not getting chased or shot at. Maybe slightly rooted in that old school belief that women should be kept safe, although he has a hell of a lot of respect for women in authority. “That’s good. She’s a smart lady.”

"You guys seemed to get along pretty well." Junior cracks a grin, but in all honesty he's okay with it. Zach got dealt a shitty hand by life. Not because he made bad choices but because the system failed him. Now, hopefully, a new system could give him a better chance.

Zach immediately rounds his shoulders, aware that he should have kept his distance from Junior’s sister. “You don’t have to worry, man.” He murmurs. “I hear you.” All he can think about is that Junior is warning him off and he can’t mess up this chance.

"Hear me?" The grin disappears from his face, replaced by an expression of worry, wondering if he said something he shouldn't have. If Zach had taken something differently than he meant it. "No, man. No. That's not—" He shakes his head twice as they wait for the elevator to come to a full stop. "She's a grown ass woman. And she obviously likes you a lot. Ri's never been very good at hiding that kind of thing. There's no...warning here, or anything. I wouldn't have left you guys alone together or brought you to meet my family in the first place if I objected to something about you, Zach."

Zach snorts, not believing that. “Yeah, because you want your little sister to be interested in a homeless bum.” The doors to the elevator open and he quickly steps off, angry – mostly at himself – about how this is going.

"As of five minutes ago, you're Statesman." Junior reminds him as they walk to the truck. "Listen, I— I've never been homeless. But I know what it's like to have no sense of your future and the hopelessness of not being able to grasp a real life." He unlocks his pick up and waves Zach in, sighing a little as he shoves his key in the ignition. "Until I was twenty-four, my mother and I were in Witness Protection. Every single thing about my life was a lie. We were relocated five different times because the people after her kept finding us. It was...terrifying. So I know it's not the same, but I also know that you didn't ask for it just like we didn't ask for what happened to us. It can take a while to adjust to something new. Just...I'm asking you to believe that we don't think less of you. Our family knows what it's like to not be able to make your own decisions about life. And it's no one else's business what you were doing before you came to Statesman. No one here comes from the perfect life. No one."

Shame isn’t something that Zach is unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since someone made him feel that way because they were being kind. “‘m sorry.” He apologizes quietly. “When you’ve been kicked long enough, you feel like you deserve it. You expect it.”

"I know that feeling." For as much as you ever shielded him growing up, Junior had had plenty of his own battles to fight in every place you had been moved around to. Just because it wasn't exactly the same circumstance as Zach's, didn't mean he couldn't relate. "I don't expect you to turn on a dime and readjust to a new life instantly. That's...that's incredibly unrealistic. Just try to keep an open mind, that's all."

“I’ll try.” Zach tries for a sheepish grin. “Pretty hardheaded sometimes.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “Jarhead is a Marine nickname for a reason.”

"That's fair enough." Junior chuckles as he backs out of the parking spot. "Daniels' are hardheaded and we don't even have an excuse."

He can’t help but snort at that, having experienced it firsthand when dealing with Junior. “I guess it must be in the blood for some.” He murmurs quietly. “Are you sure your folks would be okay with me staying with them? I don’t want to put an agent out of their place. Just give me a sofa or a cot in a back room and I’ll be better than I was.”

“That guest room is sitting empty waiting to be filled,” Junior promises. “I can swear to you the original occupant isn’t coming back for it, since it used to be mine.” Jack had kept the room at the ready for his son for a long time just as a symbol, even after Junior and Janey’s house on the ranch was full of kids. “We can call ‘em from the road if you’d like? So they know to expect you?”

“Just to make sure.” The last thing Zach wants is for there to be some reason you didn’t want him there. Or couldn’t have him. It would just embarrass him even more.

Confident in his plan, the older man uses the truck’s communications panel - a Statesman must-have - to call the ranch, and grins when his father picks up. “Hey Dad,” Junior hums as he drives. “Question for ya.”

“Junior.” Jack’s voice rings out warmly in the speakers. “Shoot. you know I always have time to answer any questions you have.” Since coming back into his life, Jack has made forging and strengthening the relationship between himself and his eldest his priority. Trying to make up for missing the first half of his life.

“It’s not that serious, Pop. I promise.” The younger Jack Daniels chuckles. “Would you and Mom be alright with hosting Zach until Ginger gets his housing squared away? He starts training tomorrow morning.”

“So he accepted?” Jack chuckles, proud of his boy for finding the next wave of talent for Statesman. “Good, good. Of course, we’d be happy to have him here. Your mother needs someone to fuss over beside me.” He’s aware that Zach has to be within earshot and while he’s protective of his girls, he’s aware he can’t meddle in their affairs. You point out what a manwhore he had been when he thought you were gone. It’s not fair for him to coddle her as his last unmarried child.

“That’s what I was thinking you’d say.” Junior grins, flashing Zach a thumbs up. There’s no point in saying an ‘I told you so’ when the outcome is a good one and the concern was only polite. “We’re on our way back to the ranch now. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days for everything to be set. You know how fast Ginger works.”

“Boy’s welcome to stay as long as he’d like.” Jack assures him, wanting to make sure the message is clear. “You know we always enjoy company and I can get a feel for how trainin’ is goin’, give him a few tips.”

“You mean give him tricks so he can get one up on Tequila?” He laughs softly at his father’s enthusiasm, glad to see that he was exactly right about how this would go. So far, at least. “We’ll see you in about ten minutes. Thanks, Dad.”

When Junior ends the call, Zach exhales audibly, relieved that he had been right. It didn’t sound like Jack was wary, and that did wonders to relieve his anxiety. After being invisible for so long, it seems almost jarring to be so in the spotlight. “So, I take it he knew what you wanted to do with me?” He asks, wondering if Junior brought home people all the time.

“Every once in a while, one of us will get a feeling about someone.” It wasn’t terribly common, meaning that whenever it happened the recruit in question tended to get a bit more attention and training, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. “The agent in charge of training – Tequila? That’s how he came in. Guy used to be a rodeo clown back in the day.”

“A…rodeo clown…” Zach says slowly, grinning slightly at the mental image. “That’s one hell of a job. I’ve never even been to a rodeo.”

“Oh, we’ll fix that soon enough.” The grin that Junior flashes him is mischievous. “Riley loves the rodeo. I’m sure she’d take you.”

“I’m pretty much assuming everyone in your family is familiar with horses or ranch life.” Zach had been a city kid and it wasn’t like he was riding horses in Iraq and Afghanistan in the middle of a war zone.

“It’s definitely a big part of life. The cowboy thing was never something that I felt attached to before coming here, but it grows on you.” After spending a full half of his life in Louisville with Statesman, Junior had come to view it as a way of life. A set of principles to live by. And though his kids were all growing up in a modern world that seemed to move faster than light, the core of their family was always respect and freedom – two things that Statesman valued as well.

“I’ve never even been around a horse.” Zach admits. “Not unless you count a Great Dane.”

Junior laughs, smacking his hand on the steering wheel as he drives. “They’re damn near pony-sized, I’ll give you that. But horses are beautiful creatures. You should give it a try while you’re at the ranch.”

“I—okay.” Zach nods, aware that this is surreal. Nothing in his entire existence prepared him for cowboy spies, although the westerns he had seen flipping through channels as a child makes him think of a romanticized version of it. A more friendly Bond.

“You’ve been to war, Zach.” Junior shoots him an encouraging smile. “I promise you can manage a horse.”

"Somehow I think a living breathing animal is a little different from the Humvees we rode in." Zach snorts, appreciating the vote of confidence. "Although I could say that one of them did buck me when it flipped with me inside."

“See? You’re already an old pro.” It’s nice to be able to laugh with Zach now, even only hours after meeting him. Earlier today he had been understandably caged. Guarded. And of course – his everyday survival depended on self-reliance in every way. It’s good to see those barriers already cracking under the gentle touch of kindness and good faith. “You’ll be a cowboy in no time.”

“I don’t know about that.” He huffs. “I’ll settle for ‘regularly showered’ for right now.”

******

The rest of the drive passes easily enough, this time with Junior pointing out a few favourite sights and restaurants from the road, and soon enough they’re back at the big house. There’s a lot less bustling activity going on now that most people have gone home for the evening or moved on to nighttime activities, but the kitchen is still brightly lit when Junior opens the front door. “We’re back!” He calls, though the path of light in the house shows exactly where everybody is.

“In the kitchen, sweetie!” Your voice rings out, and laughter from two different people rings out almost immediately.

“They must be playing cards or a board game.” Junior tells Zach, already headed in that direction. “Riley and Mom are Scrabble fiends. Dad prefers poker.”

Nodding, Zach shrugs. “I’ve been a card player during my time in the Marines.” He had never played for anything more than fun, or beers, but he had fond memories of nights in his unit playing while pretending they weren’t in danger.

"Dad will be glad to have another vote for cards." With a clap on the back, Junior strolls into the kitchen and immediately goes to say hello to you and Jack. "Ginger's said yes," he reports with a grin. "Say hello to Statesman's newest recruit."

Jack leans back in his chair and grins at the younger man who looks like he's had his world turned upside down. Hopefully that will be the best damn thing to happen to him. "Pull up a chair, son. We'll get you a glass of whiskey and I'll tell you all about some of the missions we've run."

"Told you," Junior laughs, flashing a smirk at Zach.

"You love your stories too," you remind Junior, already hustling to pull up two more chairs at the table. "Like father, like son. Always."

"Bond in a Stetson?" Zach asks as he sits down, glancing over at the older couple.

"That's what I called him the day we found out what it was Jack had been doing." You tell him, patting the back of a chair as Riley disappears down the hallway with a grin on her face. "Cowboy James Bond. It didn't take long for Junior to follow in his father's footsteps. Statesman's been a blessing to our family in every single way."

"Were you recruited from the Navy, sir?" Zach isn't very clear on the timeline for everything, but he wonders if Statesman had been sniffing around military branches for most of their agents or if civilians like Tequila dropped into their laps in equal measure.

"You could say that." Jack's laugh is deep and amused at that, considering the circumstances. "I was recruited from the brig on the verge of a dishonorable discharge. Champ – our old director – he liked a rebel when they had a good cause. But me?" He shakes his head. "I was angry at the world for taking away my sweetheart and little boy. It wasn't a good place for a man to be in. Any man."

"I couldn't even imagine." Zach had been single when he hit rock bottom, he couldn't even fathom what it would have been like to lose a significant other. Especially when pregnant. He might not have survived that, so it speaks to how damn tough Jack Daniels Senior is.

"Junior was twenty-four when Statesman took over our case from the US Marshals." You explain, knowing that your children had already mentioned your time in WITSEC to Zach over the course of the night. "Champ got wind that we were being moved again and stepped in. He sent Jack to pick us up and relocate us here instead."

"And the rest is history." Riley reappears from around the corner with a bottle of Statesman Blue Label in hand and deposits it on the table with a stack of glasses.

"Happy ever after." Zach murmurs, unsure of what that would ever entail for him or if it was even in the cards. He's never really known what he wanted out of life, kind of aimless if he were completely honest with himself.

"Happy ever after." You hum in agreement and lean over to kiss Jack's cheek. "Which we never thought we would get, honestly."

It's probably the most relaxing evening Zach has experienced in a long fucking time. Drinking his fair share of that bottle, he grins as he leans back. His stomach is full because you had insisted that nine o'clock snacks were perfect. Laughing at another story that Jack Senior has told about a time where his ass was in a jam and Tequila, the man who was training him tomorrow, had pulled it out of the fire. "You got them though, right?"

"Statesman agents always get their man." Riley tells him proudly, chin up in the air as she tips back the last of her glass. She may be unsubtly playing on the fact that she, too, is an agent of Statesman, but mostly she's just proud of her father and brother. "Always."

"So don't fuck up." Zach chuckles, shooting you a sheepish look. "Sorry, ma'am." He offers, hating that he had cursed in front of you. You seem like a wonderful woman, but he wants to give you the impression he has manners. He's staying in your house after all.

"No need to apologize for cursing." It earns him a waved hand from you, and a smirk. "We swear up a damn storm in this house. Don't think otherwise." Though you hadn't done it while the kids were young, and generally reserved that vocabulary for when it really counted, that didn't mean you never swore.

Riley laughs and Junior sighs as he leans back. "I should get back to the house. Janey is waiting." He smirks, although it's one of those soft ones that men think that no one else notices when they've been promised sexy times.

"Gross." Riley gripes, swatting at her brother and rolling her eyes heavily even as she snorts a laugh. "Go be domestic and happy or whatever, I guess. I'll retire to my spinster's room and do something dangerous like read a book."

"Can't be readin' now." Jack winks at his daughter and shakes his head. "You're already smarter than everyone, 'cept maybe Ginger."

"Oh no." Another roll of her eyes is fully sarcastic and Riley squeezes her father's shoulder affectionately. "A smart daughter? Whatever will you do with me?"

You just laugh, shaking your head at the two of them and reaching over to pat Riley's hand on her father's shoulder. "Will you show Zach the guest room before you turn in, honey? Show him where everything is?"

"Sure, mama." She bends to hug both of her parents and affectionately nudge Junior's shoulder before turning to Zach. "You ready to turn in, cowboy?"

“I should get some sleep.” Junior had brought Zach’s bag in and told him that everything he needed was in the room. He assumes that means he had let him borrow some more clothes. “I start at eight tomorrow morning.”

"With Tequila, that means more like 8:15. He's not exactly a morning person." You smile, though, and say good night to Zach once more before he follows Riley upstairs.

“So you develop more than just tech for the distillery.” Zach hums. “I thought it was a very impressive system for just whiskey.”

"I would protect that whiskey with my life," Riley tells him with her hand on her heart. "But yes. Agent Grenadine, at your service."

“Agent Grenadine.” He likes that, it’s sweet like she seems to be. A good additive to any cocktail. “I like that.”

"Active field agents are liquors. Ground agents have slightly less pungent names." She giggles at her own joke. "Our boss? Agent Ginger Ale. She was R&D like me before taking over as director."

“Smart. Easy to identify.” Zach absorbs that information. “So that means my trainer is still a field agent?” He asks, wanting to know what to expect tomorrow.

“Tequila still works in the field from time to time, but he mostly trains now.” At the top of the stairs, Riley turned right into a large bathroom with two sinks built into the counter and a bath/shower combo big enough to fit three if the need ever arose. “He’s a good guy. Sense of humor, pretty positive outlook considering the man is a secret agent,” she smirks about that. “He was my brother’s partner for a long time. Sam and I called him Uncle Tequila for years.”

“Sounds like he worked with your dad too.” If he has any questions of why she is bringing him into a bathroom, he doesn’t ask. Just quickly and discreetly ducks his head to sniff himself. It’s been a while since he’s had that shower on the jet, but he should still be okay.

“Towels in the closet, soaps and stuff under the sink.” She says casually before ducking out of the room again and heading down the hall. “Yeah, Dad helped train him. They’re thick as thieves.”

Ahhhh, he’s getting a quick tour. He follows her quickly and chuckles. “So I can expect him to get a progress report on my training.”

“Especially since you’re staying here.” The grin that Riley flashes him is playful, and she stops in front of a bedroom with the door wide open and fresh sheets in the bed. “This is you,” she tells him. “My parents and Sam’s room are on the other side of the landing. But I’m right next door if you need anything.”

“I thought Sam lived off property?” He doesn’t care who is here, it’s not his house, but he just didn’t want to run into anyone on the way to the bathroom or something.

“She does, but she only moved out about two years ago and Dad has a thing about leaving our rooms set up. Jay’s was in tact until I left for college and he hasn’t lived in the big house since he and Janey got married.” Pointing out the window, they can make out the top of the cabin over the tree line across the main property. “The cabin was their wedding present.”

“Wow.” Zach is definitely impressed. “Did he build Sam and her wife a cabin too?”

"Sam moved into Vanessa's house when they got engaged." Riley steps into the room, giving them time to talk some more if they want it. "Their wedding present was their honeymoon...and while they were away he had their backyard redone for them and a pool put in along with fixing up Vanessa's work shed. Dad...tends to go overboard."

Zach lifts a brow and looks around the room that was very obviously set up for a boy in a gorgeous shade of green. “You mean building a house as a tribute isn’t what most people do?”

"I don't know about most people, but it is if you're Jack Daniels." Riley looks out over the property, fidgeting with her hands shoved in her jeans pockets. It's always been the dream – at least for her. To grow up and have her own little cabin with her own partner on the ranch where her tight knit family has grown and prospered. Maybe it's old fashioned, but sometimes old fashioned really isn't a bad thing. The city just wasn't for her. She had tried it and found out that she's just a country girl at heart.

“It’s touching.” Zach doesn’t want her to think he’s insulting the idea. “This is— hell, I’ve not ever been able to dream about a life like this for a long time, but back when I enlisted?” He shrugs and shakes his head, his own eyes finding the same view Riley is looking out at. “All I wanted was to find love and make a family.”

"It's kind of the dream around here." And it's not even something that she is going to be self-conscious about. It's her dream and it's a good one - just because it's not for everyone doesn't make it any less worthy for her. "Definitely what I want. But it's kind of hard when you have to be cagey about what you do for a living."

“Are you not allowed to tell a spouse?” He could see where that would cause issues. It might be a special set of circumstances for you since you had been protected by Statesman.

"We can tell our spouses. There's a clearance level for that." She shrugs slightly. "But it makes dating a little...awkward. Having to lie to someone right off the bat isn't really a great foundation for a relationship."

“I get that.” Zach feels bad for her. “You’ll find someone. You’re way too—” he bites his lip, hating that he had almost said that.

"Too...?" There was almost a compliment there, she's sure of it, and one eyebrow raises at Zach in question.

Zach rolls his eyes at himself. “Pick one. Pretty, smart, funny, loyal, kind.” He almost grumbles it. Sore that he’s meeting a woman he one thousand percent would be interested in when he is at his lowest and receiving a hand out from her family.

Riley flusters, biting her lip to hold back the fairly enormous smile threatening to overtake her face. "You too," she hums, leaning against the windowsill. "Pick one. Any of them. Except maybe sub out handsome for pretty."

Warmth spreads through his stomach and makes it flip pleasantly. “Look, I know—” he breaks off and shakes his head. “You should know your brother literally picked me up off the streets.” He admits quietly. “Yesterday I slept in a fucking park with a metal pipe for protection.”

"I'm sorry to hear that." It makes her swallow a little, not out of fear or concern but out of sympathy. Homelessness is a hell of an issue and she's not blind to how lucky she is to have a comfortable place to live and a well-paying job. "I know that's a big issue for vets coming back from combat, and..." Riley shakes her head slightly. "It doesn't make me think less of you, for the record. I mean, you served your country and you didn't deserve to be dropped on your ass when you came home."

He had a feeling she would pity him, but he shakes his head. “I don’t – I know that you aren’t trying to pity me, but I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or whatever.” He’s so fucking bad at this. His hand slides out of his jeans to rub the back of his neck. “Just because I think you’re pretty doesn’t mean you have to think anything about me.”

"If you knew what I thought about you, you'd probably kick me out of the room." She admits with a slight cringe. "I'm sorry. I'm really fucking bad at this too, and I always have been. Why do you think I'm the only Daniels still single in a family full of people who tend to find romance very young?"

“Because you deserve better?” Zach shrugs, curiosity piqued now. “What do you think about me?” The worst thing she could think about him that he’s not already thought?

Riley huffs, caught between hoping he wouldn't ask and wondering what he would say if she actually told him. Her eyes drift down to her boots and the rug, not letting herself be so bold as to actually look him in the eyes in this moment. "I think you're about the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life," she admits, shoulders rounding in on themselves. "And it's...it's embarrassing to admit that I feel like I already know you somehow. Like you just feel familiar to me and I don't know why. But Sam said that's how meeting Vanessa felt to her and I can't get it out of my head."

“Are you sure you just don’t want to feel that way?” He won’t dismiss anyone’s feelings but he’s not ever been looked at like that before. “I’ll admit that you’re the first woman I’ve been— that I’ve just wondered about since I got back stateside really.”

"I thought she was bullshitting me." Riley confesses, looking up now even though it's tentative. "How can you know somebody before you've even met them, ya know? But then...I walked up to you and Jay tonight and it felt like the universe was kicking me in the teeth for doubting her. You just..." She sighs, finally looking up all the way to find his eyes. "This is going to sound so ridiculous. But I know that if I hugged you it would feel like coming home."

“It’s— it’s been a long damn time since I’ve had a hug.” Zach admits, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and opening his arms slightly as if to give her permission. “Only one way to find out if I suck at giving them.”

There's only a second of hesitation on her part as Riley tries to figure out if he's teasing her or not, but the look in his eyes is full of sincerity. She stands up straight up, pushing off from the wall to step forward the three strides it takes to reach him. Their arms fold around each other neatly and Riley inhales a ragged breath of surprise that couldn't be faked even by the more award-winning actor. It knocks the wind right out of her, how perfectly they fit together, and with him being several inches taller than her there is such a feeling of comfort and rightness that she could just break right down and cry. Goddamnit. Sam was telling the truth after all. Sometimes you just feel it.

Zach tilts his head, leaning his cheek on the top of her head and closing his eyes with a small sigh. The gesture is just perfect. Comforting and warm, making him relax more than anyone and anything else had tonight.

"You definitely don't suck at hugging," Riley finds herself chuckling softly even at her own reaction, tightening her arms around him just a little bit more.

“That’s good.” He murmurs softly. “I was worried about that.”

"No need to worry." Lifting her head is almost reluctant, but she readjusts against him to just barely look up and ends up nuzzled into his neck with this slight shift of their positions. It's more comfortable than she could have ever possibly thought as she sighs again without thinking.

Zach leans into it again, hesitant to break this wonderfully comforting embrace. Needing it more than he ever realized. A damn earthquake couldn't make her let go now, and Riley stays right where she is happily. Zach is a solid wall of comfort even with everything he's been through, and if she makes him feel half as relaxed as he is making her feel, then it was worth taking this leap of faith.

******

Zach groans, opening the door and shuffling inside. The biometric locks have been updated to include his thumbprint so he can come and go as he pleases, but Zach tries to be considerate. Sore and desperately needing a shower, he feels good about the progress and his footing here at Statesman.

The house is quiet. Only one car was in the driveway when he pulled up in the beat-up sedan that he'd bought off of a repair man's lot with part of his second paycheck. It didn't do much but get from Point A to Point B, but at least it did that. The only car in the driveway besides his right now is Riley's, which points to the elder Daniels' being out for the night. Friday nights are still their date nights after several decades of being together.

“Ri?” Zach closes the door to the house and looks around to see if she is downstairs.

"Down here!" The clacking of billiards balls can be heard and quiet music from the radio float up from the basement games room with the door open. "I've got cold beer!" She offers a second later, as if he needed more incentive to say hello.

“I’m gonna shower and I’ll be right down.” The grin that breaks out is purely in anticipation, he rushes towards the stairs so he can get into the bathroom to clean up. A Friday with Riley, some cold beer and billiards sounds like a perfect beginning to the weekend.

"Okay!" She calls back, not even knowing if he heard her or not. She's got the only pizza place that delivers out to the ranch on speed dial and two different six packs in the cellar refrigerator. If she had maybe known that staying home meant she'd have some time alone with Zach, she isn't trying to make it too obvious.

Being a Marine, he had showering down to less than five minutes. Throwing on some clean jeans and a t-shirt that seems to look better on him than it had on the hanger when he had picked up some new clothes. Smirking slightly as he starts down the stairs. “Need anything from up here?”

"Just some company." There's a smile in Riley's voice when she calls back to him. They've been moving towards things slowly. Small touches, lots of laughter and long talks. Star gazing in the fields, cuddling together watching movies in the living room. Holding hands like preteens. It's been sweet and innocent, and Riley is so deliriously smitten that she can't stop smiling anytime he's around.

“That I can do.” He promises, quickly bouncing down the stairs and smiling when he sees her. It’s been so fucking good. “Although I’m sore as shit.”

"Tequila's been running you pretty hard lately." She goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and pops the cap off, dropping it into the jar nearby before handing the bottle over. "But that's good. It means he thinks you can take it."

Lifting the bottle in thanks, Zach takes a long swallow. “Yeah I can, but the man is like a machine.” He might be older than Zach, but Tequila can run circles around the former Marine when he wants to. “Said to look at fighting like a dance. Right before he kicked my ass.”

Riley snorts, starting to reset the pool table. "Bet he didn't tell you that he has awards from dance competitions, did he? He's such a fuckin' show off."

“That explains how he flipped me over and managed to not throw my ass on the ground.” Zach grumbles under his breath.

"Rodeo clown and..." This time when Riley laughs, she waggles her eyebrows. "Exotic dancer. Or so the legend says."

“I’d believe it.” He snorts and takes another sip of his beer. “He moves like he’s rolled his hips a few times.”

"Taking notice of his hips, were you?" It just makes her laugh, making even more suggestive faces at him as he pulls a pool cue off the wall.

“Best way to see how he’s going to attack.” Zach rolls his eyes at her playfully. “People who say watch the feet don’t understand you can’t faint where your core rotates.”

“See, this is why I’m not a field agent,” she laughs as she sips her own beer. “You’re talking combat and I just want to make dirty jokes.”

“Nothing wrong with a dirty joke.” The only reason he doesn’t feed into them is because he knows he will be thinking about that with Riley and she’s given zero indication she’s wanting something like that.

“I have never met a man less inclined to a dirty joke.” And it’s kind of a shame, from her point of view at least. These couple of weeks have been very sweet between them but she definitely has a raunchier sense of humor that she keeps in check around him. Originally it was just so that he wouldn’t feel like she was coming on to him constantly, but then it seemed like he just didn’t like dirty jokes at all.

Zach’s brow wings up and he pins her with a confused look. “What makes you say that?” He asks, slightly insulted by that idea. He had a twisted sense of humor, he’s just been trying to be respectful, still aware of stereotypes of people who were homeless.

"Well...I don't know..." she mumbles, suddenly feeling sheepish. "I normally have a pretty decent sense of humor but you never responded to any dirty joke in the beginning so I just stopped going for them. It seemed...less awkward? Although now it's very awkward."

“I’ve been trying not to make you—” Zach huffs at himself. “I didn’t want to push if you weren’t— if it wasn’t to that point yet.” His own tone is sheepish. “Wanted you to know I have manners and know how to treat a lady.”

The way she huffs at both of them and shakes her head, it's clear that she's trying not to laugh at the irony. They were both trying so hard not to make each other uncomfortable that it led to an awkward conversation instead. "The first night you were here," Riley leans back against the pool table and sighs in resignation. "You let me in just a little bit. To hug you? That was already the third time I wanted to kiss you."

There hasn’t been a night where he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, but he had always felt like Riley should make that move. “I wanted— I didn’t deserve to— but I wanted to kiss you too. I want to kiss you now. Hell—” he chuckles and shakes his head. “I want to do a lot more than kiss you.”

When Riley laughs this time it's almost pained, like the irony of the situation is just a knife in her side by now. "Do you know how many times I've had to stop myself from coincidentally being in the shower or changing with my door half open or any other horny bullshit on Friday nights when it's just us at home? Just to give you the opening?"

“I wouldn’t have taken it.” Zach can admit that to her, to himself. “Because I don’t want you to believe I don’t respect you. Or just want to get off.”

"What about now?" Now that he knows she wants him, surely that changes things? Or at least she desperately hopes that it does, because she's been aching to do more than hold his hand for weeks.

He sets the cue stick down and steps towards Riley, his eyes fixed on hers. “That depends on what you want.” He murmurs, edging closer again. “All depends on you.”

"Me?" The smirk growing across her face belies the way she squirms, backed up against the table as he takes a step closer and moves into her space. If he only knew how many times she had imagined this. "I respect the hell out of you." Riley swallows a laugh. "But I also want to know what you look like when you cum."

“Probably a mess.” Zach chuckles, cock twitching at the idea. “Sweaty and satisfied, nearly weak from cumming so hard.” He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something other than my hand.”

"You're not making it sound less appealing, ya know." If anything, he's making that weeks-old ache between her thighs even worse. Riley has seen him sweaty and disheveled from training a dozen times or more and each time has ended up with her hand between her thighs in bed that night.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought of you while I was showering?” He confesses, reaching out and brushing his fingers over her hip before settling his hand there. Still moving slow, but his gaze is hungry, his voice lust rough.

"About half as many times as I've thought about you with my fingers buried in my pussy?" With no real reason to be subtle about it, and her pulse going about a thousand miles an hour, Riley throws caution to the wind and tangles her hand in Zach's shirt before leading him into the space between her legs. Letting him get as close as possible with clothes on but not going all the way to kissing him. Letting him decide whether or not he's ready to cross that physical barrier.

Zach lets out a cross between a groan and a growl, lunging forward and capturing her lips with his. The other hand not on her waist wraps around her back and tugs her close even as he presses her against the table behind her. For all the hundreds of daydreams she has had about this moment leading up to it, Riley can’t pick a single one of them that stands up to what actually kissing him feels like. A month of working out daily and eating right has made his entire frame broad and strong again, and he envelopes her with every inch of himself as she scrambles to wrap her arms around him in turn. There is no hesitation in the kiss, just fierce hunger, and she moans into it with a need that makes her whole body shiver.

The slide of his tongue into her mouth is natural, almost like breathing. Slowly and sensually exploring the contours of her mouth like it’s a wonder of the world. Riley was already hanging on by a bare thread before Zach deepened the kiss, now she’s one hundred percent certain that she doesn’t have a ghost of a prayer at retaining her self-control. She whimpers this time, one hand finding the curls at the base of Zach’s neck, tugging on them insistently while her other hand starts to map the contours of his waist and chest over his clothes.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he knows that she feels the hardening of his cock against her stomach. There’s no way she couldn’t. The way her back has bowed slightly from being pressed up against the table means that some things are even more pronounced, and Riley tilts her hips forward to get more of that gorgeous pressure from his length against her torso. If he’s half as hard as she is wet they’ll be an even match, but she can’t resist taking another step forward. Capturing one of his hands in her own, Riley slides Zach’s fingers under the hem of the t-shirt she threw on when she got home from work. The invitation to explore is unmistakable, and she moans at how hot his skin feels against hers. It’s like being granted permission to go to heaven. Zach groans into her mouth and his hand closes around her breast, squeezing gently and massaging as he deepens the kiss even more.

Tossing off her bra with her work clothes was the best decision she ever could have made, and Riley presses into his touch as eagerly as possible. His hands are huge, calloused and clever, and his thumb is running circles around her nipple in just under two seconds which makes her gasp and break their kiss for the first time since it began.

“Baby…” Zach blushes slightly, realizing he’s used an endearment. “Can I—” he glances down at her chest and then back up to her eyes. “I want to—”

“I want you to, too. Trust me.” Untangling herself from him is only necessary for as long as it takes him to slip her shirt off, and the cold air of the cellar feels like a wake up call with how overheated she’s become in the last few minutes.

Zach kisses her lips and the starts a gradual trail down her jaw and neck. Not wanting to rush while he cups both breasts and makes his way to take one nipple in his mouth. It draws the most sinful moan from her throat, and Riley’s hands find his bulk again to keep him close as she arches her back into him. His slow and steady tendencies might drive her crazy - in more than one way - but it’s as reverent as it is needy as he closes his lips around the pebbled bud. “Fuck, baby…” her head tips back with a groan. “I knew your mouth was going to be amazing.”

His tongue flicks over the tip harshly, then more gently as the pressure of his teeth increases. He hums against her breast, aware that she is whining so beautifully that he wants to hear more.

“Shit—” Without even really being under him she’s still squirming and panting, letting him explore at his own rate and not interrupting him no matter how desperately she wants to get her hands wrapped around what she’s certain is a beautiful cock. “‘Sall yours, baby,” she promises, gulping down a ragged breath. “Every inch of me.”

He suckles, bites and soothes like he hasn’t done in a long time. Having spent hours thinking about her tits, what he would do to them, to her, if he was ever allowed to touch her. Now that he’s given permission, he wants to make her burn, crave his touch. Needing it like he had needed this place, and her.

Those first touches are intoxicating, letting Zach graze his hands, lips, and tongue across her flesh any way he wants until she’s begging him for more. “Fuck—I—please, baby,” she moans, feeling the ache in every part of her body. Her focus, though, is on getting him to move south. To the point where she’s fumbling blindly to get her own jeans off for him.

He pulls off her tit with a pop and reaches for her hands. “Baby, do you—” he doesn’t know if she wants to do this here or upstairs, but he wants her to be comfortable.

“I don’t even care,” she admits sheepishly, though this time when she leans in to kiss him it’s gentle. “I don’t care where, I just care that it’s you.”

He grins, kissing you again. “You wanna risk your daddy comin’ down here?” He asks.

“They’ll be out for hours,” Riley grins. “He took Mom for a fancy dinner and dancing.” Even thinking about it for a few seconds, her grin turns evil. “And the basement’s soundproof.”

“There’s a couch, right there.” Zach groans, grabbing her and dragging her over to the sofa so he can lay her down. The giggle that rises out of her at his enthusiasm is so light and so free it’s like air. This is all she’s wanted since the day he walked into her life and she just feels how right it is in her bones.

“Shit—” Zach hisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he rests on top of her. “I— I don’t have a fucking condom.” It’s not like there’s been a lot of opportunity for Zach to have sex in the past few years.

“I’m on the pill.” All Statesman agents - field or otherwise - have periodic physicals done so she knows she’s clean, too. “As long as you passed your physical, we’re good.”

“I passed it.” He promises, bobbling his head up and down. “Are you sure?” He asks softly, not wanting her to feel like he’s pushing for raw sex. As it is, a condom might be a good thing.

"Hey." Riley sits up, both of her hands on Zach's cheeks. "If you want to be extra safe, we can go upstairs. I have condoms in my dresser and we'll have a bed. I don't...want you to regret any of this."

Zach shakes his head. “No. I— fuck, I want to feel you.” He admits quietly. “So fucking badly.”

"Then get these things off me." That mischievous giggle returns and he slips one of his hand down to the apex of her thighs where the extra fabric grinds against her dripping slit deliciously.

Shedding clothes turns into a series of giggles and curses when a piece of clothing is being difficult. Until Zach is finally pushing his boxer briefs down and revealing his aching and nearly purple cock. "Fuuuuck." The groan that tears out of Riley's chest is deep and needy as she reaches for him, letting the fingers of one hand wrap around the base of his cock with a slight squeeze. "I knew you'd have the best dick."

He huffs in embarrassment and arousal, rocking his hips forward into her grip. “Shit.” He hisses, throbbing as a lovely little spurt of precum dribbles out and down her knuckles.

They both whine, different pitches and different levels of desperation, but when Riley leans forward to lick the precum off her fingers, she voices such obvious enjoyment that she leans forward further and flicks her tongue across the tip of his cock for more. "You even taste good," she praises, looking up at him through hooded eyes. "Next time I promise I'll suck you dry, baby. But this time I need to feel you."

“If I— if I don’t last—” Zach moans as she guides him towards her core. Nearly pulling him as she doesn’t let up on her grip but it’s probably the only thing keeping him from cumming, so he loves it. “I promise I’ll make you cum on my tongue.”

"I'm not worried." If anything, she's fairly certain that she's so worked up that she might still cum first, but Riley shakes her head and presses a kiss to Zach's lips. "This isn't going to be the only time we do this."

“It’s not.” He promises, shuffling closer and letting her slide him through her folds. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

"Want you so fucking badly." Never having been one to disguise her wants before, she's felt like she was going to implode for weeks. Now, as he sinks into her, Riley can't tear her eyes away. Watching inch after inch of his cock disappear into her pussy is so hypnotizing she doesn't even hear the way she keens at being filled so completely.

The tight clutch of her surrounds him, squeezing him in a way that nearly makes him breathless. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He manages to lean down and press his forehead to hers as he finally grinds deep and bottoms out inside Riley.

"Fu—fuuuck—you feel so incredible. Holy shit." Her legs wrap around his waist, keeping him buried inside her while they both adjust to the perfect way they fit together.

His body is primed, right on the edge of toppling over. Inhaling and exhaling slowly as he throbs inside her. Hissing when she clenches down around him and makes him rock his hips forward slightly.

"Take your time." Riley has no plans on rushing this, needing a moment of her own to adjust to the way his thickness is splitting her open. It has her chest heaving under him even as she trails kisses down the long line of his jaw and throat.

“So fucking perfect.” Zach groans. “Jesus, you feel— it’s perfect. Like coming home.”

In the last month they really have spent nearly all of their free time together, and this moment that they're in now is the place she was absolutely certain that they were going to end up. Maybe not this couch specifically but intertwined together with intimacy at the core of their connection. "You're so fucking incredible." It really is on the tip of her tongue, to say what she's been feeling for weeks, but saying it for the first time with him buried inside her would either be cheesy or seem insincere. And since she doesn't want it to be either of those thing, she pours herself into kissing him instead.

When she says it like that, Zach believes it. Wondering what things would have been like if he had known her before being discharged. With his mouth occupied, he can’t voice anything more than a groan as he slides his arms under her and burrows in closer before he starts to move.

Knowing that they’re completely alone and in the only soundproof room in the house, Riley doesn’t hold back. The moans that cross her lips are salacious and encouraging, rising up through the air to practically float around them. To make them float somehow.

Every thrust feels like he’s being ripped apart. Torn at the seams and reforged in the extreme pleasure that only she can bring. No one has ever felt so good, not even the first girl he slept with. “Fuck, I— Jesus.”

“So fucking good.” The praise seems to be on repeat for her, punctuated with curses and cries that carry his name but break halfway through as another tremor of pleasure tears through her. Other encounters might have been more carefully planned or had more of some element or other, but none has ever felt this right.

Rocking into her steadily, Zach groans his own agreement. Three little words, ridiculous and not appropriate right now, are begging to fall from his lips. Making him kiss her again to not voice them.

Riley shifts under him, angling her hips to take each thrust deeper and letting out a muffled cry when his perfect cock strikes home at her g-spot at just the right time. She’s so close that she’s shaking with it, trembling on the verge of her peak and clinging to him with every stroke.

“Shit— shit, you need to cum. I need you to cum.” He can feel his control unraveling, surprised that he’s lasted this long. Only brief changes in pace have saved him to this point.

“Just like that,” she promises him, feeling the tension coil in her spine, knowing that she’s so close to the edge that if he changes anything she’ll lose it. Four more strokes is all it takes and she’s gasping for air, moaning Zach’s name into the heavy air as she comes apart for him.

“Riley.” Zach moans, unable to do anything other than follow her over the edge, pushing deep and gasping as he cums. Spilling hot ropes of cum into her womb as he seemingly cums forever.

“Holy fuck.” Head dropping back against the cushions, Riley pants for air and giggles wildly with the giddiness of such an intense first encounter. The words dance in her head but she’s able to push them aside for now, not willing to sacrifice the chance of a repeat encounter to her hummingbird heart.

“Holy shit, I’m dead.” Zach collapses against her and pants, smiling goofily as he tries to catch his breath. “Tell me it was good.”

“Baby,” she frowns slightly at the mere idea that it wouldn’t have been mind-blowing, but her fingers card through Zach’s damp hair. “It was so good I’m tempted to try to keep you all to myself,” Riley admits, maybe a little too softly.

“You can.” Zach mumbles, unsure of what she meant by that, but he had no intention of doing something with someone else. He’s never been that type of man.

“I didn’t want to assume.” The slightly nervous look on her face dissipates and she leans up to kiss him slowly. “Maybe you had your eye on someone else, too. Or maybe you’re not a relationship guy. We’ve never…never really talked about that.”

“Not a chance.” Zach grunts, shaking his head and huffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you, no way I’m going to think that I should just fuck you.”

"I just..." she blows out a breath, finding herself gazing into his eyes with a nearly dopey expression. "I really like you. And I think we could have something special. That's...insanely sappy. But at least it's true."

“I love you.” Zach’s eyes widen, even as he blurts out the confession. Cursing himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

For a second the moment is frozen. Riley doesn't dare to breathe or speak until she sees the regret in his eyes. "Please don't take it back." Both of her hands find his face again, cupping his cheeks and smoothing the anxious creases from his features before pressing a firm, earnest kiss to his lips. "I love you, too. I just – I guess I was really off base worrying that you didn't feel the same way about me."

“You are amazing.” Zach huffs. “Fucking amazing.” Relaxing in her embrace as she admits her own feelings. “I— I was worried that I would come on too strong, or someone thinking I’m trying to get in good with your family.”

“You might get a good questioning from my daddy now that we’re together, but that’s about it.” She actually laughs at the idea of it, already having seen firsthand the way her father doted on the trainee agent under his roof. He had taken a personal interest in Zach’s training as well, giving him a few tips in the way of lasso and whip technique. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m an all or nothing kind of girl and I swear I’m all in.”

“Your dad has already spoken to me.” Zach admits, shaking his head and grinning at her shocked expression. “Wanted to know if you wanted more than friendship, what would I do.”

Riley laughs when she finally shakes her head, shaking with it and grinning at him. "Was the answer fuck me into the basement sofa? Because that's a pretty fucking excellent answer."

He snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He moans. “Do you think I wanted to die? He had the electric whip in his hands.”

"I appreciate a man with instincts for self-preservation." She's still grinning when she nudges her nose against his. Still lying wrapped up in him on the sofa is an amazing place to be, but her stomach rumbling gives her away. "I was waiting for you to come home so we could have dinner together," she admits with a slightly guilty expression. "Maybe we can clean up and order a pizza? I kinda want to just snuggle up and relax with you."

“That sounds good, but I’m paying.” The Daniels have been more than generous, letting him stay for free, feeding him, helping him more than he could ever repay. Buying the woman he loves a pizza seems small, but a month ago, he couldn’t do that.

"If you insist." It isn't something she would ever expect from him, knowing how he saves and cherishes every penny in every paycheck, but she also won't push back against his pride. Instead, she just kisses him again, enjoying the lingering moment of affection, and looks back out over the room as they stretch and stand up again. There are truly clothes everywhere and every single cushion on that couch is in disarray.

“It’s a good damn thing your daddy told me that he had disabled the camera system in the basement.” Zach groans as he pulls back with a grin. “Don’t want him to see this.”

"I would not be the first one of his children that he walked in on." Riley snickers, tracking down her panties about four feet away where they landing when Zach threw them. "Jay has that distinction. And Janey was mortified."

“I’m sure it’s a lot different than walking in on your baby girl.” He had heard the nickname one night when Riley and Jack had been talking in his home office and the older man had hugged her and told her how proud of her he was. It was a moment that made Zach ache for a family like she had.

"Younger by a whole two minutes and forever the baby because of it." There's nothing wrong with that, but Riley just shrugs as they get dressed. Once things are back in place, she slips her hand into Zach's and squeezes. "We should just be up front with them. There's no keeping secrets in this family, for better or worse."

“Hopefully they don’t hate the idea too badly.” There’s still the issues with socialization, feeling inferior. He had been working on it, but there was nothing but time that would help that.

"Are you kidding?" They head upstairs together hand in hand. "Mom figured out which coffee mug you like best and won't let anyone else use it now. That's family shit. You're fine, babe. I promise."

“Is that why she’s always got it set out no matter how early I try to get up to make coffee?” He asks with a laugh, overjoyed by the thought and it makes him grin.

"Oh yeah. That's Zach's mug. It gets set out on the counter every night before she goes to bed along with everybody else's." When the house was busy and bustling and full to the gills, it helped to have specific things like dishes associated with each member of the family. It persisted after the house was just down to the three of you and now that there are four again it seemed like a nice thing to also give Zach that little bit of familial normality.

“I like that.” He admits, blushing slightly. “That makes me feel like I’m one of you. Like I belong here.”

"You do, honey." It might be a little rude to surprise the kids by just sitting at the kitchen table like you are, but you didn't plan on it. Date night got cut short by the place you normally go dancing being closed for a private event, so you and Jack had stopped for a pint of ice cream to share and planned on playing a board game. From both of the kids' disheveled appearance, it would seem you weren't the only one having a date night.

"Fucking shit, Mom!" Riley jumps three feet in the air, clutching Zach's hand in surprise and all but clutching her chest with her free hand when she whirls around to find you and her father sitting at the table. "Shi—I—sorry. Just...what the hell are you doing home?"

Jack chuckles, trying not to scowl at the very obvious evidence of what his baby girl and Zach had been up to down in his basement. He had been correct in turning off the damn cameras. “Nowhere to dance in this town tonight.” Jack grunts. “Least not to music I can handle.”

“We were going to order pizza.” Riley blurts out, suddenly nervous at nearly being caught, but she doesn’t let go of Zach’s hand. “Did you—uh…did you eat yet?”

“Not yet.” Jack hums, pulling out his phone so he can pull up the website for the only pizza place that delivers to the ranch. “What’s everyone want?”

“Pepperoni.” Riley answers immediately before looking back at Zach. “And banana peppers. Thanks, Dad.”

“Come and sit.” Honestly, you just want to bundle them up in a tight hug and tell them how glad you are that they stopped tiptoeing around each other, but you don’t know how Zach will react to that very maternal response. “How was everyone’s day at work?”

“I’d like your permission to date your daughter.” Zach blurts out, flushing again at how his mouth runs off without his brain around. Riley. “I mean— I understand that I am a man you haven’t known for long, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure your daughter is loved and respected.” He rallies and looks between you and Jack. He knows that he doesn’t need to ask you anything, but he wants to. He respects you both.

The mutual smile that breaks out across yours and Jack’s face is partially quiet amusement and partially the fact that you’re touched he would even approach it in such an old-fashioned way. “Come on and sit down, kids,” you insist, patting the tabletop even as you get up to fetch a pitcher of sweet tea and four glasses. Serious discussions usually go easier if you have something in your hands to fidget with.

Zach throws Riley a look and dutifully sits down. Wondering if he had misstepped. He had thought the parents of the woman he loves wound want him to be serious.

“First off,” Jack sits up straight in his chair after hanging up the phone and gives you a nod of thanks for putting a drink in front of him. “Ri usually lives by the motto that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so I appreciate you being straight forward.” He shakes his head in his baby girl’s direction, but this is really for the young man directly in front of him.

“I’ve figured that out.” Zach chuckles, looking over at Riley with nothing short of adoration in his gaze. “But I am a guest in your house, and feel like you’ve taken me into your family. I don’t want to insult your sense of propriety after you have been so wonderful.” It’s about respect for him. He’s had the last three years of being looked down on, taken for the worst and not once has this family done this to him. Not even when the chip on his shoulder got in the way.

"And I appreciate that." He won't pretend otherwise. Good manners matter to Jack when it comes to his family and they always have. These are the most important people on the planet to him. "Which brings me to my second point," he looks between the two of them - young adults even older than you and he were the first time you got married. "Y'all be respectful of each other and the shared parts of this house."

Riley tips her head, brow furrowing with interest at her father. "That's it? Just 'be good and don't have sex in the kitchen'?"

Jack closes his eyes briefly, ignoring the way you stifle an amused snort. “Do you want me to pull the ‘not under my roof’ bullshit you would just ignore anyway?” He asks, wondering why, of all his children, his youngest was most like him. Jack Jr. might look like his younger copy, and Sam might have his tenacity, but Riley had always had his fighting spirit, his need to buck the system. It had caused some headaches through her teenage years, but he’s trying to respect the fact that they are grown.

"Hell no," Riley shakes her head, reaching for Zach's hand under the table and lacing their fingers together. "I guess I expected the same 'what are your intentions' speech you gave Vanessa, though." Of course - Zach had said that he and her father had already spoken about her a little. That might be the reason for no speech. But that didn't stop her from being surprised.

“I already know the boy is in love with you.” Jack snorts, rolling his eyes. “He’s the type to want to marry you and have babies.” He shoots a very red-faced Zach a grin. “Am I wrong?”

Trying to save him the embarrassment, Riley puts up her other hand in defeat. "Okay, so no intentions speech. And I'm not upset about that fact, for the record. Just surprised."

"We told your brother and your sister the same thing," you remind her, sitting back in your seat with both hands around your cold glass of tea. "As long as you're happy, we're happy."

“I think your dad understood I have good intentions.” That vote of confidence has Zach straightening up in his chair. Feeling a burst of pride through the embarrassment.

"One of us should," Riley jokes, knowing full well that she is viewed as the most mischievous Daniels child.

Snorting, Zach looks to her father, expecting Jack to say something. The older man just shrugs. “That’s your problem now, son.” He jokes with a chuckle. “That’s alllllll you. Your second chance is here. Grab on and hope to hell like you don’t fall off.”

Zach grins at the advice and nods. “I won’t sir. I’m on this ride for the long haul.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x OC #Zach Wellison x female OC #Zach Wellison x f!OC #Kingsman Golden Circle #Brothers and Sisters #crossover fanfic #technically

69 notes · View notes