#We come up with new au ideas often together

[narudoblog]

I just realized how much we have au:s and how often we forget about them and then come up with something new that has some similiarities to the old au:s.......

#We come up with new au ideas often together #sometimes not #but like mostly when we draw of some au stuff they might be from same au #Noxu talks

[scarletssienna]

Say, “Don’t go”

Summary - It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other last - Three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 6k word count

Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU

AN - Hey guys! Sorry, it’s been a second since I’ve posted. I cannot write anything happy apparently? It’s all just been angst. I have many ideas for some future one-shots and possible series tho! (Not all angst dw)

18+, minors + men dni

Working for the FBI was no easy feat. It often led to undercover work in many different forms. Typically you’d expect to be undercover a couple hours at most. So it was unexpected when you got a case requiring a longer period of undercover work. 3 months at most and you’d be out. This case was different from the rest. You’d been tracking a mob boss for years, every time you’d think you’d get close he’d disappear. Every time he’d come back worse than before. The goal was to gain some trust in the community and work your way up, that way you could finally track him down with confirmation. It wasn’t ideal. It was highly dangerous but you’d been training for this your entire career. When you broke the news to Wanda she was less than displeased. Since the two of you had gotten together in college you’d been nearly inseparable. Your names always followed one another’s and you were practically glued to the hip. 

Sure, you’d trained for undercover work like this, but the risk was great. There was a good chance of having to participate in illegal activities or getting hurt. Because of that, Wanda was very unhappy with you and the decision to go. The idea of being apart from you for a week, nonetheless 3 months sounded awful. You couldn’t exactly turn down this offer though. You’d waited to catch this guy for years and now it was finally within your grasp. You were too far in. The day of you leaving came quicker than anyone could have prepared for and it left you with a sinking feeling in your gut and Wanda distraught.

“I have to go, Wands.” You pleaded, trying anything you could to get her to understand. She looked away from you, wiping the tears from her face.

“No, you don’t. You could stay. We can figure it out.” She sniffled and held back a whine. “Together.” She sounded like a child begging for a toy in a store, although this was much more real. You stepped back towards her again. She stepped away but instead backed herself against a wall. 

“Wands, look at me.” You begged softly as your hands reached up, cupping her face in your hands. When she looked into your eyes, you nearly broke right then and there. The pure sadness she held was unbearable. Her green eyes were glossy - her mascara ran just below her bottom lashes. The sinking pit in your stomach grew as you opened your mouth to speak. No words came out, causing her to scowl slightly. Instead, you leaned in, kissing her as passionately as you could. She kissed back, her hands grabbing at your face, pulling you in as close as she could. When the tears began again, you had to pull back, your head falling on her shoulder. It did a poor job of muffling the sobs that left your mouth. 

“Please.” She begged. “Stay.” Her hands wrapped around you tightly, holding you against her, afraid to let go. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, creasing the fabric in her grip.

“I love you so much.” You said as you pulled back a tiny bit, just enough for your eyes to meet again. It was what confirmed it for Wanda. You were leaving. There was no more pleading and begging she could do. You had made up your mind. Her hands detached from your shirt, and she shook her head. Her arms went to her sides as her head rested behind her on the wall. “I love you, Wanda.” You repeated the words the two of you had shared hundreds of times. But this time was different: she didn’t repeat the words back. Her eyes just stared back at you, glossy, broken. Your hand dropped to your stomach, holding it slightly as the sickening feeling took over. It hit you that she wouldn’t be saying it back this time. You pushed past the billowing feeling that took over your stomach and chest. You leaned forward to kiss her one last time, but she didn’t kiss back. So, you moved and kissed her cheek tenderly before stepping away. She held her breath as a single tear rolled down her face. She held eye contact with you until you walked away, finally breaking it. You felt her gaze on you; only when you rounded the corner did it cease. She sank to her knees, her hands covering her face as she muffled her sobs. You carried on, leaving the house despite everything inside you urging you to stay. 

After three weeks of you being gone a news story broke out of an FBI agent found dead while undercover. The story that was released was gruesome. Wanda fell distraught. She was distraught you had left in the first place, but at least she had known you would be coming home. Now, with this no longer being true she was sent into more of a fragile state than ever. You had no idea that was going to happen. You had accounted for a few months of being away - at most. So it was a surprise to you too when you got a call one early morning saying there was a change of plans in your mission. It had to seem real. And to everyone else, it was real. Wanda’s grief of the love of her life was real. The woman hardly slept, yet she barely left bed. Bathing was a chore and food was an even worse one. Nightmares were common. These grew exponentially after everyone's and her own better judgment, she read your case file. She saw your name, the bloody image of ‘your’ body, the details and descriptors of how you had died, all of it, stamped a closed case. You were now deceased.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other - three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 

An old file was placed on Wanda’s desk one morning as she worked. 

“What’s this?” Wanda asked as confusion wrinkled across her face. She looked up, pushing her glasses to the top of her head, making eye contact with Natasha. 

“Something I thought you might be interested in.” Natasha started as she reached down and opened the file. Wanda recognized the case immediately, her bottom lip quickly tugged into her mouth as she bit down. Natasha’s fingers slid across the pages in search of a word. She paused, her fingertips halting just beneath it - Deceased. She pointed out the word, causing Wanda to flip her glasses back down, looking at the papers, curious. She just nodded and shrugged, not recognizing where it was from. 

“Okay? What about it?” Wanda pushed, trying not to get upset at the lack of details about what she was supposed to be looking at. Natasha reached over, setting another file on top opening it, flipping through, and then pointing out several points throughout the pages. 

“They’re not dead,” Natasha said while shaking her head. She sighed and knocked on the desk once as a sign she was leaving before walking out of the room. Wanda watched her exit before looking back into the folders in front of her, her face still riddled with confusion. Her jaw dropped slack as she realized Natasha was right. You're not dead.

Wanda looked through the second file on her desk quizzically. You had been dead. What she read proved otherwise. She let out a silent gasp as she read further. 

There was a file opened about a woman who was close to the man you had gone after. It was you. Though the people above in the FBI knew that. They just had to keep it under wraps for your safety. The case had been made available recently as the mob boss was dead. The woman in the file had shot him and escaped. The more Wanda read about the woman, the more she realized it was you. Techniques you had used in the past for interrogation, fighting techniques, and just genuine physical mannerisms. The woman had shown up just a month after you had been declared deceased. The thing that finally confirmed it to be you for Wanda stopped her in her tracks. There were blurry security images from the shooting. You had always managed to stay away from cameras and any photos taken staying in hiding made your undercover position easier. Wanda would always recognize you. You had to be confident you could return when this was revealed. 

She immediately reached for her phone, dialing your number and letting it ring twice before she realized. The number had been down for years and you wouldn’t just pick up like that. She set her phone down and pushed her chair back. While gnawing on her bottom lip she was in a shocked state of not knowing what to do. She left the office quickly, going home. The second she pulled into the driveway she broke down into tears. All the feelings from years ago came back. It felt unreal, untrue. She couldn’t believe it, and not in the way of denial. But protecting herself. She couldn’t go through the grief again. She dragged herself inside and simply dropped her stuff by the door. She had moved on from you. It was hard, but she had done it. 

All this brought up those emotions, she wasn’t sure how to cope. She brought herself to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes, dropping them sporadically around the room before going to the shower. She paused in front of the mirror, trying to contain her tears. She dried her face with the hand towel and sniffled before turning on the water to the shower. She stood outside the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As she stood the tears began again. When the water was to her liking she entered and stood under the water, trying to wash away all the feelings. They didn’t wash away as she had hoped. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, holding her legs just as she had done when you left. The feeling of sadness and heartbreak was all too familiar. 

The next week things were off. No one had brought you up. Not that they usually did. But Wanda had hoped someone would. Maybe if someone brought it up it would give her an excuse to share what she had found - Without fear of sounding crazy. The first year after you’d left, Wanda was in such a deep state of grief. She’d often bring up new cases, victims, or missing people, saying it may be you. She had seen the evidence of your death, but after the closed casket funeral and no true closure in the situation, it drove her wild. She settled for focusing on her work this week, pushing people away. She had to believe you were alive. The counter thought was too much. 

When you returned to Quantico you wanted nothing more than to see Wanda. Unfortunately, there was paperwork on paperwork that needed to be approved before doing so. On top of that, you also had to go through a medical check and many physical exams. While the FBI had known what you were doing, they couldn’t just pull you away for the maintenance of your health. It was debatably the longest week of your life. You spend much of it waiting in the temporary apartment they had set up for you. It was boring, mundane, and painfully long as all you could think about was seeing Wanda. When you got the go-ahead Friday night you were frantic. At a loss of what to wear, who to call, and where to even find Wanda you were lost. Decidedly, you called the only number you could seem to remember at the time, Natashas. She answered on the third ring your call from a club. She hasn't answered nearly as fast as you would have liked but supposed it was fine, this time. 

“Where is Wanda?” You wasted no time on formalities, impatiently waiting for a response. You paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room as you gnawed your bottom lip into your mouth. Natasha didn't know who was calling but answered anyway. She listened as she stepped outside. 

“Who is this? You must know that this is terrible timing. Whatever this is better be important.” She insisted as she leaned against the cold brick wall, not waiting long before you replied again. 

“Natasha.” You answered simply. “Where is Wanda?” You repeated your question with a firm tone. Suddenly, it hit Natasha on who you were. A gasp left her mouth as she stood up straight.

“No way!” She practically yelled. Of course, she knew you were alive. She had known the whole time. But it had been a long time since the two of you had spoken real words. Now here you were, asking for Wanda. Before you could yell again into the phone, she remembered your question. “She’s probably still at work. She’s been working like crazy this last week.” You didn’t even bother saying anything more before hanging up the phone. 

You pulled up the maps app on your phone and typed in Quantico. When you saw it was just a little over a mile you decided to run. You were not about to just wait around for an Uber that was for sure. Was running the best decision as it was 10:30 pm and you were last in the area several years ago? Maybe not. But you were in a wired state and would do it anyway. When you arrived you hurried to the elevator. You grumbled as you went to hit the button and realized you needed your key card. Shuffling through your pockets in a frantic state you grabbed it and swiped it, pressing the floor you needed to go. Thoughts began to flood your mind as you imagined Wanda's reaction. What if she was mad at you? What if she never wanted to see you again? You didn't have much time to worry though as the elevator dinged and opened. As the doors opened they slowly revealed the red hair you've been dying to see. An exhausted Wanda was standing outside the elevator waiting to enter. You took a second to register her in front of you, still as a statue. She hardly even looked your way, not recognizing you through the exhaustion. She shuffled into the elevator and rested her head against the wall, reaching to push the first-floor button when you cut her off. 

“Wanda,” you said, causing her head to snap towards you. Her face was riddled with confusion before her jaw dropped as she realized who was standing before her. Without a second thought, she flung herself into your arms. You held her tightly against you as your arms wrapped around her closely. “God, Wanda.” You murmured under your breath as you pressed your face into her hair, inhaling slightly. You could have melted at her touch, her scent, her everything. It was exhilarating. Her face nuzzled into your neck as if it was a perfect puzzle piece. Her soft sobs of joy are swallowed and silenced by your closeness. The doors to the elevator closed but the machine stayed in place as it hadn't been directed anywhere.

“Is it you?” She asked after several moments, pulling her face back. When her green, teary eyes met yours you smiled bigger than you had in forever. 

“It's me, Wands,” you said as you looked up into her eyes, causing her to grin. You reached both hands up, cupping her face as you wiped away her tears with your thumbs. Softly, you pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose wrinkled at the kiss and she giggled before leaning forward and kissing you, passionately. The kiss only lasted a few moments before she was tangled around you again closely. 

“How? What?” Suddenly she began to stutter out. “Where?” The number of questions she had was too many and they were too much right now. While biting down on your bottom lip you shook your head. “Soon, so very soon.” You whispered as you placed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll tell you all about it soon.” When she began to protest your answer you kissed her softly, causing her to sigh and give in, just happy you were here. 

“Where have you been staying?” She asked before looking at the elevator as it began to move down. Slowly, she detached herself from you causing you to release her from your arms. Instead, she settled on holding your arm tightly, afraid to let go. 

“They set me up with a temporary apartment not too far from here.” You spoke in a quiet voice as the elevator doors opened. The two of you exited, carefully walking past the person entering. 

“Let me take you home.” Wanda offered. She wanted to see you for as long as she physically could but knew it was late and unrealistic to expect you to stay out doing who knows what at the spur of the moment. She looked at you as she stepped closer once again, not having let go of your arm. Suddenly, she began to stutter. “By home, I mean your apartment, not my, our, home I mean. Unless you want to go there? I mean I wouldn't mind at all! But also I would understand if you wanted to go back to,” You cut her rambling off with a soft kiss. 

“I would love to go back to our home,” You started, causing her eyes to light up. “But not tonight.” You finished and the glimmer in her eyes faded as she quickly looked away. Feeling the sudden need to clarify, you spoke quickly. “There's still some things that need to be settled and I've been running around too much, I don’t want to disturb you.”

She agreed and you went towards her car, both of you getting in when Wanda finally pried her body away from yours. It was quickly returned when you both had gotten in, her hand reaching for your leg as she drove. Your hand rested on hers. Despite having tons to talk about you drove in silence: quiet directions were the only words shared as the radio played softly in the background as you watched out the window. She drove slowly down the road, a few under the speed limit as she wanted to soak up every moment she could with you. Her hand slowly rose your thigh as she drove, her fingertips playing softly with the inner hem of your pants. There was a sudden moment of desperation that came among the two of you. Wanda pulled into the nearest empty parking lot and parked the car. The second the car was put into park the two of you practically launched yourselves at each other, kissing one another passionately. Your hands reached for her waist as hers tangled in your hair. 

Her tongue slipped across your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged without a second thought, a moan immediately muffed into the kiss. Your hand snaked under her shirt, groping and grabbing at her chest through her bra. She groaned into your mouth, tugging your hair as she pulled you closer. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you pulled back from the kiss, locking eyes with her. You hummed and tugged at her shirt. “Get over here.” You murmured as you reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You moved the seat back and laid it down before turning your back to the windshield and shifting towards the front of the car. There was some awkward shifting and moving as Wanda moved into the passenger's seat, settling and leaning back in the seat. She reached forward and grabbed your shirt, pulling you on top of her. 

Your lips met instantly again and your hips found a slow pace of grinding onto her lap. Her hands reached down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as she slid her fingertips inward, dipping towards the insides of your thighs. With a groan, you broke the kiss and began kissing at her neck. Your hip movements came to a cease as you moved off her lap, now between her legs. You grumbled as the floor wasn’t as forgiving as you’d expected the fabric-covered metal to be. That wasn’t about to stop you though as you reached towards her pants. She helped with the buttons and zipper, before lifting her hips, allowing you to tug down her pants and panties with one quick motion. You moaned at the sight in front of you. Her delectable cunt waiting in front of you. She reached down, tangling a hand in your hair as she began to push your head to where she needed it most. You would never deprive her of what she wanted. Especially when your mouth practically watered for her. 

“Come on Detka. Don’t be shy, Mommy remembers how much you love eating her pussy.” She spoke sweetly, a smile on her face as she looked down at you. Your face turned to a deep blush as she spoke. In an attempt to avoid embarrassment, you settled your head between her thighs happily. Your tongue made contact with her slowly. Your tongue moved up her clit in a fashion that made her squirm. Her grip on your hair tightened as her hips rose against your face. You moaned against her as your hands gripped her thighs. The way your tongue swirled and ground against her caused her to moan out above you. “Fuck Detka.” She pulled at your hair and she let out a loud moan. “Oh, I’ve missed your tongue.” She said as her eyes screwed shut and threw her head back. You looked up from your position, smiling at the sight above you. One of your hands slid between her legs and quickly slipped inside of her. Your tongue directed all of your attention to her clit as your fingers curled and pumped inside of her. With the addition of your fingers, she rose quickly to an orgasm. Her hands tugged at your hair as her hips lifted and she let out a loud moan as she reached her peak. When she settled you took a moment to remove your fingers and lap up what you could before looking up at her with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck you’re hot.” You said as you grinned, biting the inside of your cheek before pulling your fingers to your mouth, and licking them clean. She watched you, awestruck and tired as she caught her breath. Her grip loosened in your hair and her hands reached down to your face with a new tenderness. She lifted your chin to look at you with a smile. You smiled back up at her before biting your bottom lip. You wiped your face with your shirt in a playful manner before shifting a little. She giggled tiredly and pressed her fingertip to the tip of your nose with a smile. You dried your fingers on your pants before pulling Wanda's pants and panties up carefully. She slowly shifted her body, tiredly allowing you to help her. When her pants were back in place you crawled onto her lap, straddling her. You began to pepper soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 

“I love you, Wands.” You whispered as you settled back in her lap, your head resting below her chin as her arms wrapped around you keeping you close.

“I love you too, Detka.” She said with a tired smile on her face. The slow patterns Wanda traced on your back felt hypnotizing as you never wanted to leave this moment. You had to though, so after a little while of sitting together you lifted your head. She protested with a grumble and tangled her hand in your hair, urging you to lay your head back down. Her eyes didn't open from her relaxed state. 

“Wanda let me drive us home.” You said as you placed a kiss on her lips. She nodded and slowly let go of you. You reached down and adjusted the seat so it was in a safer upright position before scooting back on her lap a little and buckling her seatbelt for her. You then smiled as her tired eyes looked into yours. “Keep looking at me like that I’m gonna have to eat you out again.” you teased, causing her to grin and giggle. You climbed into the driver's seat and set the car to defog, letting it rest momentarily as you traced patterns on Wanda's leg. When the car was defogged enough you drove the two of you home. 

Pulling into the driveway you parked the car in the garage before getting out. You hurried to Wanda's side before she could even open the door. You opened the door for her before reaching down and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Can I carry you?” you asked, causing her to grin a little out of surprise. She raised her eyebrows at you as she began to question. 

“Is that a question of your physical capabilities or are you asking for permission?” She teased as she looked up at you tiredly. “Because you have my permission, but Detka I might be too heavy,” she started but you cut her off, carefully lifting her out of the seat, watching to make sure she didn’t bump her head. She gasped surprised as she quickly hid her face in your neck, flustered. You carried her inside before setting her on the steps. Gently, you began taking off her shoes and jacket for her, hanging them up on the hook before returning and picking her up bridal style. She laughed when you picked her up again but let it happen as she wrapped her arms around your neck tightly and kissed your jaw. You brought her to the bedroom and laid her down. She made quick work of snuggling up with the pillows in the bed. 

“Don’t get too comfy Wands.” You teased as you went to the closet to find some pajamas. You bit your lip, pausing as you noticed your side of the closet had stayed nearly the same as when you had left. Slowly, you began looking through your shirts. Your fingers danced slowly over the fabric, brushing your fingertips along the patterns of one of your favorite shirts. You carefully slipped the shirt off the hanger. You glanced at the closet door, knowing Wanda’s eyes were on you before stripping your shirt off. As you reached to unclip your bra you heard her call out. 

“Come here.” Wanda’s voice was husky and full of sleep. You abided anyway and picked your shirt and a shirt for her before walking towards her. You set the shirts on her bed, blushing a light shade of pink as you stood next to her. She propped herself up a little more and reached towards you, spinning you to face away from her. Her hands slid up your back slowly before stopping at your bra. She took only a moment, unclipping your bra. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as she unclipped your bra. Her hands then slid down your back, her fingertips tracing across some scars she had never seen before. You flinched at the touch at first before relaxing into it. While biting your bottom lip you let the bra fall to the ground before turning back around to face her. She smiled at your body, only looking at you with love and adoration as she took in the sight. Her eyes on you made you blush a deeper red. When she noticed you getting more flustered she directed her attention lower. Her hands slid from your sides to the loops of your pants. Moving you closer with a soft tug she undid the button before looking into your eyes as she did the zipper. You shuffled out of the pants before reaching for her. Carefully you repeated her motions. Your fingers danced around the button to her pants as you undid them, carefully helping her slide out of them. While she took off her shirt you took a moment to fold the clothes you two had discarded. You smiled as you looked back towards her again, reaching your arms around her. Your hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let the garment fall slowly as it was now your turn to admire the sight in front of you. You sat on the edge of the bed next to her, letting a small smile show as you handed her one of your t-shirts. You pulled yours on as she put hers on. As sexual as the actions may have seemed to an outside perspective they were purely done out of innocence and genuine care. 

“Can I sleep next to you?” You spoke for the first time in several minutes. A downward smile tugged on Wanda’s lips as she grabbed at your shirt. 

“Please do.” She said as she nodded, tapping the side next to her, your side of the bed. You smiled at her response and bit your lip as you pulled the covers back. You crawled over top of her, causing her to giggle as you plopped down next to her. You took a moment to dramatically fluff up your pillow before lying down. She waited, teasingly impatient. The second your head hit the pillow Wanda’s head was right there next to you hardly inches away. Her arms wrapped around you closely and one leg pushed between yours, essentially tangling your bodies together. The closeness felt wonderful. You brushed your nose against hers with a smile on your face. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. Gently you pressed a kiss to her lips. You didn’t close your eyes just yet. You watched her instead. Watching how her eyes fluttered tiredly, her breath slowly making her chest rise and fall, her breathing getting slow as she drifted asleep. When you were sure she was asleep you finally gave in to the tiredness yourself, letting your eyes close and sleep take over you. 

The next morning when you woke up Wanda was stretched out next to you but still clinging onto your shirt with one of her hands. You smiled at the sight, biting back a big grin as you watched her. Before, you were rarely awake before Wanda. She liked to get up early to get a head start on her day. Now, that had been you for the past few years. You scooted towards her, wrapping your body around her as you began to kiss her cheek and neck playfully. She stirred in her sleep and luckily remembered about the night prior before freaking out. She rolled on top of you and grinned, her eyes not yet open as she snuggled into your chest. 

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She whispered as she wrapped her body around you. You smiled and chuckled at her. You wrapped one arm around her back, sliding it under her shirt as you rubbed up and down the bare skin. Your other hand went to her hair, tangling it softly as you massaged her scalp. She hummed and leaned into your touch, slowly falling back into sleep. While kissing the top of her head you whispered. 

“I’ll lay here a little while then I have some stuff to do okay Wands?” You wanted to work out and return some phone calls for work to get it out of the way. She just nodded and hugged you closer. You let her stay in that position for longer than you’d planned before slowly moving her next to you again and climbing out of bed. You kissed her head before going downstairs. You paused at the end of the stairs, taking a deep breath as you knew you were about to take on walking through your old house. Just as you were about to walk through the house suddenly you couldn’t do it. You put on your shoes before going for a run outside. You ran all around smelling the fresh air. It was like no time had passed. You ran a quick run before returning home to get a weight lift in. Before, you seldom did cardio and weights on the same day. But you had a new routine that made you the most fit you’d ever been. The home gym was in a room connected to the garage. You went there and did a routine before heading up to the bedroom to shower. Wanda was sitting on the bed, pillows propped up behind her as she scrolled on her phone. 

“Wow,” Wanda muttered under her breath as she saw you walk into the room, your sweaty state extremely obvious. You laughed at her reaction and dried your face off the sweat with the small towel that had been draped across your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I know I’m gross. I’m about to take a shower. Maybe you want to join me?” You asked, thinking her reaction was for you being gross but you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of showering with her. 

“No!” She said quickly, causing you to crinkle your nose at her. She realized what she said. “I mean yes! I want to shower with you! Not no! Not yet.” She said as she got out of bed and walked towards you. Your eyebrow turned upward as she walked towards you.

“Not yet?” You questioned as your hands reached out to her waist and then slid down to her hips, holding her softly.

“Not yet.” She whispered, repeating you with a small grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed your neck softly. Your hands squeezed at her hips as you pulled her body up against yours. She bit at your neck testingly causing you to yelp and flinch in surprise. She pulled her face back to look you in the eyes. “Too much?” She asked, her hands snaking across your body. Quickly, you shook your head.

“More.” You let out in only a whisper. Her grin returned and she stepped back, grabbing you by the shirt and dragging you to the bed.

#mommy wanda #wanda #wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you

[lazyjellyfish300]

The Woman He Didn't Choose part 2🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant Reader

Synopsis: the aftermath of the show as you and Miguel move on(sort of). The first part is mostly from his POV then transitions into your experience on the spinoff show- Singles in Paradise where you have a second shot at finding love. Word count: 6k

A/N: Sorry to any Xina fans, I made her OOC and quite mean in this one. I haven't read the comics but from what I've heard of her and seen so far she's one of the canon love interests I like the most. (Even tho I shamelessly self ship with Miguel lolol bc as far as I know ATSV Miguel is separate from comic Miguel Soo until we hear otherwise I'm gonna be delulu.)

Also, I am sorry if any of the couple pairings in this part bother you, it's purely for the purpose of the plot since we're supposed to be on another dating show and I am too lazy to create a bunch of OCs. If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, RACIAL MICROAGGRESSIONS ABOUT ESL AND FAMILY STRUCTURE(IF THAT'S SENSITIVE FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP ❤️) EMOTIONAL ABUSE, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, ALCOHOL ,DOWNPLAYING MENTAL HEALTH STRUGGLES, LITTLE BIT OF EMOTIONAL CHEATING ON MIGUEL'S PART, STRUGGLES WITH RELIGION AND FAITH, MENTION BULLYING AND FAMILY STRUGGLES, BREAK-UP, FANTASIZING, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CLASSISM, MODERATE SMUT(P IN V BUT IT'S ONLY MENTIONED NOT FULLY DETAILED, THESE ONES ARE DETAILED: DRY HUMPING, HEAVY MAKING OUT, AND FINGERING. ALSO, VOYEURISM-ISH)

(couple pairings are Ben Reilly and Felicia Hardy, Jessica Drew and Noir, George Stacey and MJ, Xina Kwan and Miguel O'Hara, not saying anything else bc spoilers)

Part 1 , Part 3

@miguelhugger2099, @kodo1221,@mimiemie, @laysmt, @cheerrioeoz , @spicydonut25 , @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @thekidscallmebosss , @librababe99 , @ce3stvu @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood , @mauvecherie-writes , @royale-skeleton-key , @famouscattale

I'm so sorry if I forgot you in the tags , just lmk

------

"Miguel!"

Miguel looks up abruptly from a spot on the floor he was zoning out on to look at Xina's slightly annoyed expression. "Hydrangeas or peonies for the guest tables, babe?" she repeats, standing next to the sample table where the wedding planner and florist awaited with anxious eyes. 

Miguel blinks rapidly. "It doesn't matter to me, baby...um...." he points to the peony arrangement. "That one." 

Xina huffs and turns to look at the planner and florist. "We'll do the hydrangeas." 

Miguel smirks and puts his hands in his pockets. "Now, why would you ask me my opinion if you're going to just pick the one you wanted?" 

Xina's annoyed look softens subtly but she shakes her head. "It's mostly the bride's day, you know. You're just supposed to show up." 

Miguel smiles. "Well, I guess you don't need me to come to the wedding planning dinner tonight? Since you seem to have it all handled?"

Xina groans. "Miguel! You said you'd be there! Have you even read through Exodus like I asked you to?" 

Miguel feels his cheeks burn. "Shit...um, no..." 

Xina shoots a glare at the wedding planner and the florist and makes a shooing motion with her hand. They both put their heads down and quickly leave the room, giving them privacy. Miguel adjusts his tie, a little bit thrown off by her dismissive actions towards the staff. 

Xina sits down at the table and pours herself a glass of ice water. She takes a long sip and sighs, looking at Miguel. "Babe...," she says in a low voice. "You know that getting married in the church is a top priority for me. You know what it means to me..." 

Miguel's eyebrows knit together with worry. "I know it is..." he rapidly crosses the room to join her and kneels in front of her, hands on her thighs. She squirms away from him a little and purses her lips, looking down. 

"Promise me you'll catch up on your Bible reading by next week and set up an appointment with the missionaries?" 

Miguel hesitates for just a fraction of a second in his mind but he answers her, almost a little too quickly, "Of course I will." 

Xina manages to give him a little smile, fiddling with the top button on his shirt. "Love you..." 

"Love you too." 

---

Later that evening, Xina and Miguel are sitting next to each other at a large, circular, oak table across from her parents, eating dinner in their mansion of a home. 

Xina's mother makes a face when she takes a bite of the salmon. 

"Something wrong with it, hun?" Xina's father asks, dishing himself some potatoes. 

Xina's mother spits the bite into a napkin. "Rex!" She barks. An older, balding man with a kind face and chef's uniform enters the dining room. "Yes, ma'am?" 

"Salmon's not up to par, I'm afraid." She pushes the dish towards the puzzled chef. 

"M' sorry ma'am. Can I make you anything else you'd like instea-"

She cuts him off. "No, my appetite's ruined. That's all, Rex." 

The chef looks down in shame at the dish he worked hard on, picking it up with shaky hands and shuffling quickly out of the dining room. 

Miguel tightens his grip on his fork and shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He had not seen this side of Xina's parents. But, it was only their third time meeting, so he did his best to concentrate on who he was really there for, Xina. He took another bite of his roast beef. 

Once the old man was out of earshot, Xina's mother tuts her teeth. "Sorry, he's insufferable... I don't know what we'll do with him.... is your roast beef even edible, dear?" She asks Miguel. 

Miguel inhales slowly, trying to stifle his outrage on the chef's behalf but Xina's father cuts in. 

"So, Miguel," Xina's father says, breaking the silence. "Your folks are planning on driving down on the... 25th, right? For the rehearsal dinner?" 

Miguel nods, blotting his lips with a cloth napkin. "Yes, sir." 

"Remind me who's coming?" He asks, pouring a generous helping of gravy on his potatoes. 

Miguel clears his throat. "My younger brother, Gabe, and my mother-"

"Right, your father's not in your life." Xina's father says, waving his fork. 

Miguel's lips fall open and he blinks in disbelief at the abruptness of his statement. I mean, he wasn't lying, per se. Miguel took a sip of his wine, trying to chalk it up to just him not choosing his words carefully, that's all. 

"Right, he's not..." Miguel says, straightening in his chair. 

Xina's mother pipes up, "You know, that's really such an inspiration on your part. Most people like you with your background end up on the streets, or worse." 

Miguel abruptly stops cutting his meat, first looking at Xina's mother, who sat with a smile on her face looking at him, to her husband, who was too occupied with his potatoes to even care, to Xina who was just looking at her lap, clearly a little embarrassed at her comment, but stayed silent. 

It got worse. She continues, "... wouldn't even guess that English isn't your first language. You're so well spoken for someone like you." 

At that point, Miguel is so uncomfortable that he stands up abruptly, removing his napkin from his lap and setting it next to his wine glass.

"...if you'll excuse me..." he briskly walks out, making sure to close the front door a little extra loudly than he normally would. 

Miguel paces in the driveway, taking deep breaths. He exhales a little bit when he sees Xina, but he's met with a different reaction than he was expecting. 

"What the hell are you doing?" she hisses, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her stomach. 

Miguel's face contorts in confusion, "Babe..that comment your mom made-" 

"It's just how she is, Miguel!" Xina says, her annoyance starting to make itself apparent as her face comes into view. 

Miguel is now even more confused. 

"Just come back inside, please?" Xina looks around, hoping none of the neighbors were witnessing their spat. 

Miguel takes a step back, his face hurt. "Xi...what's got into you...?" 

"Look, I'm sorry that she said it, okay? But that's just how she is. She doesn't have a filter. Old people are just like that. Now she's upset because you stormed out." 

Miguel becomes angry now. "Babe. I understand your parents are from a different generation and your mom has a certain way of... communicating." He sighs. "But what she said was kind of racist. I felt extremely uncomfortable." 

Xina looks up at the sky in utter aggravation, "Okay! Fine! You're right! It was totally racist, okay? Happy? I'll talk to her about it later, but I really don't wanna fight anymore about this. We're supposed to walk down the aisle in three and a half weeks. They're just stressed because they're not only hosting my family, they're hosting yours too. I'm stressed, you're stressed. We all are..." 

Miguel takes a deep breath. Now he's second guessing himself and his feelings. Did he overreact? The last thing he wanted was for them to dislike him. They were his future in-laws after all. Even though Miguel is hurt she won't defend him and is downplaying his feelings, he decides to shove them aside for her sake. Miguel looks down at her, taking her waist in his hands. She flinches a little and tries to pull back at first, but remains where she's standing when he holds her a little tighter.

"I'm sorry...okay? I'm sorry for being an ass..." Miguel can't help but feel a little odd that he's the one apologizing, but he continues. "Let's go back inside, yeah? Maybe we can go on a date this Friday, just to get away from all this wedding planning stuff." 

Xina gives him a half smile and takes his hand in hers. "Deal..." 

----

Later that night as Miguel showered in his shared apartment with Xina, he kept replaying their fight over and over again. He didn't know what it was, but lately, Xina was showing a very different side of herself. One that was completely the opposite of the soft spoken sweetheart he fell in love with when the cameras were rolling

He knew that she was religious when he proposed, but had the impression she was more of an Easter and Christmas-only attendee. Her devoutness amped up shortly after their engagement. Her pressure for him accept Jesus and get baptized so they could be married in her church started making him realize he bit off a little more than he could chew.

He felt a phony when she'd ask him to pray over meals and when he'd be called on to read a passage in Sunday School, like he wasn't supposed to be there. His scientific-inclined brain clashed with the idea of a magical being in the sky who would send him to Hell if he touched himself.

Furthermore, Xina demonstrated that she could be quite insensitive to his feelings, and he couldn't unsee the way his future in-laws poorly treated their chef in front of him, and the casual microaggressions they were throwing out about him and his family.

His whole childhood, he was bullied for his accent and for being one of the kids who would get pulled out of class for extra tutoring because he was so far behind everyone else. He was used to being doubted and constantly faced taunts from his classmates and teachers. Conchata was generally the better parent compared to George, but unfortunately that wasn't saying much. 

She put immense pressure on Miguel to do well and excel in everything, constantly shifting the goalposts for the near impossible standards she expected him to reach. 

But, he worked his ass off and eventually started reading two grade levels above his current grade and took home placing trophies in Math and Science olympiads. It wasn't long before Ivy League schools set their sights on him, and he went on to be the successful geneticist he was today, even buying Conchata a new house despite their volatile relationship. 

Throughout it all, he never felt ashamed of where he came from, or his heritage. Nevertheless, it was something he was still was VERY sensitive about and he told Xina about it many times which is why it stung when she couldn't defend him. He even told you about it. 

Oh God....you. This was the first time in a while that he finally allowed his mind to dwell on you for longer than a minute. He remembered how receptive you were when he told you. For once, he didn't hear a, "well at least you have it better than most", or a "cheer up, it's not so bad," when he explained his life story. Instead, you listened carefully with a soft look in your eyes and one of your hands resting on top of his, letting him know that the way he felt was completely valid. Something he didn't realize could be so healing when he heard you say that in that moment.

On top of that, your family was so...kind. Your mom even went out of her way to whip up an extra loaf of banana bread just for him when she caught wind that it was his favorite. Your siblings treated him like he was just another member of the family and it was a little unreal how seamlessly he got along with all of them. And, he distinctly remembered how gracious every single one of them were to the restaurant staff when you all went to lunch, with no awkward, demeaning energy like Xina's parents unfortunately demonstrated at dinner tonight. The cameras must have kept them on their best behavior until their true selves could come out once they turned off. 

He's about to do something he knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist. He unblocks you on Instagram. (He has only one post on his own account and it's from when he was announced as The Eligible Suitor, the show forced him to create one for publicity's sake, he actually loathes social media in all forms). 

And there you were, smiling with your friends at brunch. Another one of you showing off your new dog you rescued from the shelter named Hamilton, and your gorgeous headshot of you in a swimming suit for your debut on Singles in Paradise, where you and other rejected candidates from the show were all going to go at it in a fancy beach resort in Mexico. 

Man, you looked good, curves on full display. The smile that he fell in love with was spread across your lovely face. The same one he was responsible for erasing when he broke your heart with less than 10 words on a tranquil beach in Thailand months earlier. 

Now, you seemed happier. Trying to carry on with life as though he was never there. Like he didn't haunt your dreams and the sound of his name didn't cause the sting of a thousand burns to scorch through your body. Like you were never the first girl he ever spilled his cum into during that sexy night in the Fairytale Suites, remnants of him imprinted somewhere deep inside you. 

Xina climbs into bed next to him and he closes out of Instagram immediately, ashamed that he let his mind wander. Her hand wanders down to his cock and it's not long until he's pounding into her. His mind struggles desperately to fight off the memory of the way your lips parted in ecstasy the whole time she's underneath him.

-----

A few days later

"What the fuck, Miguel?!" Xina screams at him over the phone. Miguel holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, the sound too harsh against his eardrum. She was upset at him this time for his interview on a morning talk show, promoting their upcoming wedding which was supposed to be aired live as the show's long awaited special before Singles in Paradise made its debut. 

The host smiled and leaned on her elbow. 

"Now, Miguel. Eligible Suitor's number one fan blog is releasing rumors that you only chose Xina because she was the safer option compared to y/n, the season's edgier "bad girl". Is there some truth to that statement, or can you elaborate on that? 

Miguel nods slowly, a little bit of panic settling in on the inside,  wondering how the hell the fan pages were eerily accurate, despite him not giving away any hints about his internal struggles regarding his engagement to the press that he was aware of. 

"Well, as the man chosen to be the Eligible Suitor, there are certain expectations for me and who I ultimately end up with...Xina fit in well with my family. She had all the qualities of the ideal partner. Overall, it just seemed to be a better match..." 

"But you're making it sound like if say, y/n for example had all of that, would you have picked her instead?" 

Miguel hesitates, turning a little red. He wasn't good at lying. "Well, I mean..." 

Awkward silence that lasts a little too long. 

He quickly tries to recover but he ends up making it worse, "I mean, what's done is done. There's not really a point in wondering about that, you know....? We-we're very excited for the wedding..." 

It wasn't longer than a minute after the show cut to commercial that his phone was ringing off the hook. 

"Tell me right now that you love me, and not her, or I swear to God, Miguel I will call off this whole thing!" She says through tears. 

Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Now he really felt like a jerk. 

"I do love you baby..." 

Xina is still distraught and doesn't seem to want to listen. "After everything we've been through. I've supported you. I got along with your mom, I got an apartment with you. I even supported you through all that mental health bullshit of yours and you still can't even defend me on live television and say you love me more than that broke piece of trash!" 

Miguel freezes. "Hold on, mental health bullshit....?" Miguel really hopes that he didn't just hear what he thought he heard. He does his best to keep his anger at bay but he can feel it rising anyway. "So, all of the internal struggles I trusted you enough to tell you about....my depression which is something that will ALWAYS be a part of me, Xina...you think it's bullshit?" 

Xina sputters, "Miguel, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's just...ugh you are just so hard to deal with sometimes, you know? I totally understand and respect the fact that you're going through a lot right now, but so am I. And I can't sit here and coddle you through everything if you don't get help." 

Miguel's world comes shattering down. His worst fear that started to creep into the back of his mind ever since about 2 weeks after he proposed to Xina had just been confirmed to be true: she was not at all the woman he thought she was. It was merely an act for the show, and, with the help of the producers and audience, they pushed him towards her simply because she was the woman they wanted to see him with, when his heart truly lied with you the whole time. 

And now, you were on a beach in Mexico probably getting courted by all sorts of men who could give you way more than Miguel ever could, while he was left to contend with a broken heart and a cancelled wedding. 

He says in a shaky voice. "I was getting help...I told you I started therapy. I trusted you with THE most sensitive parts of me, Xina. And you threw it in my face. By the way, why do you say y/n is broke trash, as you put it, huh?" 

"Miguel, stop putting words in my mouth..." 

"Nononono...you LITERALLY said it, Xi. Don't start with your gaslighting bullshit on me!" Miguel is raising his voice now. "You called her broke trash. Let me guess: you shoo away our wedding planners, your parents treat your chef like complete shit. She has less money and prospects than you, therefore she's just trash, right? Well, I came from hardly anything, too. Does that make me trash? Huh?" 

There's only silence on the other line, then she says, "Miguel, you're different..." 

"No. No, Xina. You're different. You're not who I thought you were, and I think we shouldn't be marrying each other." Hot tears spill down Miguel's face and he hangs up his phone. He presses his back against the wall, sliding down until he hides his face in his hands, sobbing on the floor. 

--------

A few weeks later at a beach bungalow resort in Mexico

"Welcome back to another season of: Singles in Paradise, I'm your host, Jason Donner and boy is it good to be back!" Jason beams, flashing his pearly whites at the camera. 

You hear your cue and you walk out, clad in a white bikini with a pretty purple coverup wrapped around your midriff with the knot resting on your hip, emphasizing the curve, a certain post-break up glow about you that immediately made you hard to resist, a confident twinkle in your eye. You greet Jason with a hug and he holds your hands in his. 

"Great to see you. Feelin' nervous?" 

You flash a lovely smile at him, playing it up for the cameras. "Just a little bit. But I'm more so excited than nervous." 

Jason's lips curve into a smirk. "Anyone down there on that beach you're hoping to run into?" 

Miguel. 

No, you hadn't really thought about it. Noir was pretty cute. You throw his name out there. "I hope Noir is down there..." 

Jason nods, giving your shoulder a good luck squeeze. "Well, go on down there and see for yourself. Good luck! And welcome to paradise once again." 

"Thanks, Jas!" You play it up, giving him a little flirty wink as you walk down the stone path and disappear into some trees, making your way to the beach. Necks turn slowly and you feel your heart pound as several pairs of eyes land on you. 

Felicia Hardy is standing at the beach side resort bar waiting on her piña colada with a bad case of RBF. But, her snowy eyes melt into an enthusiastic expression when she sees you. 

"Noooo way!!! Oh my GOD, you're even hotter in person! Girl! What!!" 

You beam, flattered as she pulls you into a hug. Her long, platinum blonde hair hangs loose from a claw clip with the ponytail flowing in waves that brush against her back, a few stray wisps framing her face. She's wearing a dark blue tube top dress which is doing her figure all types of favors, accentuating her goddess-like pear shape. And, she smells totally divine of coconut body spray, evidence of sunbathing apparent in her sunkissed cheeks and tan lines. 

"Holy shit, where'd you get your outfit?" She asks, giving her piña colada a sip, shamelessly eyeing you up from head to toe.

You smile, giving her a little twirl. "Girl, $20 at Marshall's for the whole thing. I swear to God."

"No way! Oh my God, I love that place!" Felicia smiles. "I gotta say I'm a huge fan of you. Dude, that pissed me off so fucking bad when Miguel fucked you over like that."

You smile back at her, flattered. You can tell that you definitely want to have Felicia be your beach bestie throughout this whole process. She had been the Eligible Suitorette about 2 seasons ago. Her tenure was one that went down in the show's history, the way she didn't take any shit, and had so many guys falling all over her. But, unfortunately her engagement to Flash Thompson went down in flames when his dumb ass eventually got caught cheating, making fans of the show rally around her even more.

"So, I guess I should give you the low down on who's coupled up with who so far?" She asks.

You nod, familiar with this part of the game. "Yes, please. Oh my God, tell me everything."

You two go sit down on a pair of beach chairs, turning them so your knees are touching each other, leaning in close together for your woman to woman huddle, the cameras zooming in on you both.

"Okay, so first of all, I'm with Ben." She gleams, biting her lip. You follow her gaze and see Ben shirtless, playing volleyball with some of the other men, his baby blues are locked right back on Felicia with his angelic, pretty boy face. He nods and gives you a polite wave hello.

"Girrrrrrllllll...." You smile, turning back to her. "Good for you, honestly, he is SO damn fine, respectfully of course."

Felicia throws her head back and waves you off with a laugh. "Girl, thank you. No worries at all. Yeah, he's uh, he's something else alright." She bites her lip again and looks down. "He treats me so good. It's going really well..."

You give her a warm look, the unmistakable signs of falling head over heels quite recognizable all over her demeanor and the way she's talking about him.

Felicia resumes her report. "Noir is here, but he's got a thing for Jess."

You feel slightly disappointed to hear that but nod, encouraging her to continue.

"Peter B. is here, but it's been kinda awkward. MJ is here too."

"No fucking way?" You sit up, interested. "They really invited both of them here?"

Peter B. and MJ were considered royalty as far as the show goes, with Peter being one of the most beloved suitors of the show's history. However, that quickly became tainted with scandal with the volatile on-and-off nature of his and MJ's relationship. They got engaged at the end of his season, then they were "taking some time apart", then they reunited, but he was seen in the Barbados with some mysterious brunette, but she was also out and about with no engagement ring. BUT, they were spotted in Chicago holding hands and all over each other in a night club just a month ago

"Yeah girl, I have no fucking clue. They're clearly off at the moment , but you can totally tell it's bugging Peter. She's all over George right now."

"Girl noooo. George Stacy?!"

"George, fucking-Stacy, girlll."

George had troubling political opinions and was known for being quite a douche. BUT he was also well over 6 feet tall with ocean eyes, big arms, and money. Well, for you, personally, no way in hell you'd tolerate that.

"MJ hates me though." Felicia warns.

"Wait, why??"

"She thinks I "stole her man" even though Peter was literally throwing himself at me when they were on break number 394 or some shit." Felicia chuckles, shaking her head, stirring her piña colada which is now becoming a watery slush. She pauses for a moment then looks at you. "So, girl, tell me, who did you have your eyes on coming here?"

"Well..." You sigh, the options so far were not promising. "I did think Noir was cute, but he's already with Jess."

"You could still invite him on a date, technically." Felicia points out. "But, I understand. He does reallyyy seem to be into her right now. It would be hard to try and pull him at this point." She drums her fingers. "Girl! Go for Peter. Oh my God you guys would be so cute!"

You blush internally. Peter? You hadn't given him much thought. You turn around, searching for him. He's standing in the ocean a few feet away up to his ankles. He turns to the side a little, and the wind blows open his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt as he leans down to examine one of the seashells under his feet.

Oh God, he was handsome. 6'2, lean muscles peppered with dark hair that ran across his chest and belly button, and a shadow of stubble on his face gave him a rugged feel, but those chocolate puppy brown eyes made him look so innocent. One of his cheeks had a little dimple that would pop out when he made that signature little smirk of his.

"Fffuck...really, girl?" You murmur, your jaw practically still hanging open at the sight of him. "But I thought you two were a thing?"

Felicia smirks. "Hell no! I rejected him forever ago. You sooo like him! I can tell. Just do it!"

You take a shaky breath. "God...okay, fuck it. I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Good luck!" Felicia calls after you. "Come find me afterwards and tell me everything!!"

You nod and shoot her a smile as you walk away. You bite your lip, your stomach doing all sorts of flips and tricks as you approach Peter. He has sort of a hopeless look on his face as he watches George and MJ from afar cuddled up on their beach towels, George's rough hands rubbing sunscreen into her shoulders as he was practically eye-fucking her.

"Peter!" You call for him. Peter turns, confused at the sound of a woman's voice calling for him, but his pupils go wide when he locks eyes with you for the first time.

"H-Hey!" His lips part a little bit at the sight of your gorgeous hair and friendly smile. His eyes start to land on your figure but he quickly flicks them back upwards to look into yours, not wanting to look like a perv. God, he was so cute. He offers you one of his hands, his voice gentle. "I'm Peter B."

You introduce yourself and he repeats your name back to you. The way he says it is making you scream a little on the inside, his voice is soothing and low. And suddenly you want to know more, so much more about him. And with the way he's gazing down at you, he does too.

You two just stand there in the ocean, chatting as the wind rustles against you both. Soon, the sun is starting to dip further down in the sky and you feel a chill coming on. Peter notices the goosebumps on your arms and wraps his shirt around you, holding you under his arm as you both meander back to the beach.

You squeal when he swoops you into a bridal style carry, butterflies appear in his stomach when he feels your hair brush under his chin, and he's almost tempted to pull you in closer. No, he decides there's plenty of time for that later, if all of this continues to go as flawlessly as it is already. He sets you down on one of the poolside cabanas, spreading a blanket over your legs. You curl up under it, shooting him a smile of appreciation. He looks at you with adoring eyes at how cute you look curled up like that.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asks gently, the tips of his fingers brushing against your thigh, sending a chill down your spine.

"Um, vodka cranberry, please." You say sweetly. Peter gives you his signature smirk, the little dimple in his cheek driving you wild. His fingers make full contact with your thigh this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Coming right up..." he's off to get you your drink, leaving you internally screaming by the pool.

---

Jason is leaning against a palm tree, silently monitoring the scene of flirtatious couples below when a tall dark figure approaches him. The camera stays on Jason and captures the look of shock across his face.

"Well, well, WELL! Look who it is, great to see you man!"

The man's face isn't shown, and it appears his response is being muted off mic, Jason's voice is the only audible one, the camera focusing on his reactions with the mystery guest,

"Wow...I'm so sorry to hear that man...yeah, yeah she's here. And you're sure about this.....? Alright, well here's your date card, feel free to use it whenever you wish. Good luck down there man."

------

You and Peter are laughing together by the pool, the alcohol slowly starting to weave its way into your banter. The daybed you're sharing is just a smidge too small, forcing your thigh to touch his as you squish on it together, bodies laying side by side. When you ask him a question, you subtly push yours a little closer into his. Peter seems to notice your increasing touch, his train of thought stalling for just one minute, before he turns pink and apologizes. "Sorry, must be the alcohol," he mumbles cutely, looking sheepishly at you.

"Yeah, the alcohol..." you tease, your pointer finger traces his sternum. His breath hitches and he's looking at you with wet lips, his eyes come to rest on your breasts that are squished so deliciously together.

You're looking back at him too, letting your eyes rake over his body up and down, admiring how good he looks and how the faded blue lights from the pool are casting a sensual shadow over his form, wondering how it would look if it were in the darkness of your bedroom instead.

Peter clears his throat. The nervousness catching up to him, and he turns his head, gazing at the shimmering water. "Sorry..." he lets out a breathy chuckle, then turns back to you. "I haven't connected this quickly with someone ever since...well I mean, since my last relationship which ended badly..... As I'm sure you're well aware of thanks to the press."

You hum, your finger now tracing little circles on his shoulder, making him tremble slightly. "Yeah....I heard. I'm kind of in the same boat."

You take a deep sigh. God, just when you thought you were getting over him, Miguel pulls you right back in. Being with Peter right now feels foreign, strange. You can't put a finger on it. You notice that those decadent brown eyes are already fixed on you, and you stare back, your voice oozing a hint of desire as you softly tell him,

"But, I wouldn't mind if I...spent some more time getting to know you."

Peter exhales softly, you detect the sweetness of the liquor on his breath, the wetness that the rim of his glass left behind is shiny on his bottom lip, and all you want to do is taste.

Peter slowly smirks back, his fingers coming to pull under your chin, bringing your face closer to his.

"I wouldn't mind either..." lust codes his voice now. But, before he goes in to kiss you, his eyes soften a little bit as he drinks in your features. "You're very beautiful..."

You feel the heat rising in your body, you drape one of your legs around him, resting your knee on his hip. "Thank you..."

Peter lets out a soft groan, his hand immediately comes to grip your thigh, encouraging you to press your body against his, and he traps your lips in his with a fiery kiss.

The stubble from his face is a little scratchy, but you don't mind. His tongue is sweet from the wine he was drinking, and you can't get enough. His hands travel a little higher on your thighs and you gasp into his mouth as he pulls you on top of him so you're straddling him with one knee on either side of his waist.

"C'mere..." he purrs.

You lean in closer to him, pressing your forehead against his to try and make your moans more quiet as he grinds your pussy against the bulge in his swim trunks, the soft fabric of your bikini bottoms separating you. The friction is delicious and you reward him with a neverending chorus of his name.

"Peter...."

Peter gives a loud groan, his grip on your hips tightens, this time bucking his hips under your spread pussy, letting you ride the outline of his cock.

"Ffuck....Peter, baby...." you whine.

"Mmm yeah, baby?" Peter lands a sharp spank on your ass in response, making you curse under your breath again. "You like what I'm doing to you?"

"Yes baby, I love it." You bite your lip, closing your eyes. "What if someone sees us, baby?"

"Let em watch.." Peter moans.

"Oh God...don't stop, please." Your moans rise in pitch.

"Fffuck....." Peter breaths out, his hands coming up to grip your breasts while you ride him. "I won't baby...fuck..." The sensation causes him to close his eyes as well. "You feel too good to stop."

You lean over, your lips crashing greedily against his, both of your tongues dancing in each other's mouths, while you grind together. His hands can't get enough and he finally starts to curl two fingers inside your pussy which elicits a sharp cry of passion, Peter playfully shushing you as he kisses your nose.

-----

The rose Miguel is holding falls onto the sand below as he watches you and Peter heavily making out, now engaged in mild foreplay and you might as well start fucking at any moment now due to how hot and heavy the scene is.

It's almost a race with how quickly the jealousy, nausea, and rage rises in Miguel's body, filling him to the brim. He stands there, jaw and shoulders tense. His cock twitches a little at your whines but seethes at the sight of another man's hands all over you. He finally rips himself away, not able to withstand it any longer.

Noir and Jess look at him with raised eyebrows as he sits at the beachside bar after downing 3 shots of tequila back to back. He just sits there, eyes glazed over at the empty shot glasses in front of him for several moments until he leans forward, laying his head in his arms with his eyes closed.

----

To be continued...

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spotify #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara angst #miguel ohara angst #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #Spotify

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst bully!au #twst bully au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

rich girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as bullying, manipulation, cheating, noncon/dubcon, Lloyd being Lloyd, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your long awaited ascension to the Home Owners Association proves more than you bargained for. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, side of Cole Turner

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

Marge plays with the perfect slip of her bleach blond hair. Her lips glisten a shade of pink that reminds you of watermelon and her long lashes perfectly frame her crystal blue eyes. She is the perfect suburban housewife, the leader of the pack. 

The other women look to her as a beacon; they dress like her, speak like her, even try to walk like her. As you look around the tables, the cookie cutter women are almost interchangeable. You don't quite fit the mould but you've contorted yourself as best you can. 

It's your first meeting as part of the Home Owners Association. In your three long years in the suburb, it's been your ultimate goal. Well, it was Cole's. Your husband says you need to keep busy and what better opportunity to make friends. Maybe a great opportunity but not an easy one. 

Your husband just wants the best for you. You know that. Otherwise you wouldn't be living in this gorgeous suburb and your dream house. How could you want anything more? 

Now, you can't. You've done it. You've achieved it all. An HOA member among the privileged and the pretty.  

Caroline clears her throat and you look up. She stares at your french tips tapping on the table. You give a sheepish smile and stop yourself. You can't help it, you're nervous. 

As exciting as it all it, you almost want it to just be over. You want to run home and tell Cole all about it. About how you're one of them.  

You fan yourself with your hand, the sun beating down on the green lawn set with at least half a dozen tables. You're sweating through your foundation and the highlighter and the layers you felt were redundant. Your mascara is starting to stick. You glance over at Mitzy, there is even a trickle of sweat along her dark hairline. How? 

You cross your leg over the other and focus on Marge as she calls attention to the front table. There, her closest allies break bread; Callie who you often mistake for Marge, Olivia and her strawberry blond locks, Eleanor, and older member who kept her hair highlighted and draws her brows on, and Shanice, the youngest of any member, even yourself. 

"Alright, ladies, let's get to business," Marge calls out. You reach for your glass and find the mimosa drained. Right, you drank it all. You set it back and press together your wet fingertips. "Today, we have a new member!" 

Applause rolls through the crowd and you sit up straight, unhooking your leg as you look around meekly. You smile, cheeks tight and your lips tremble. You're so happy but so terrified. 

"And we know how we welcome new members. Honey, please come down," Marge says. 

You take a breath and stand. You gulp and tense your calves as you make a slow progress across the yard, fighting to keep your heels from sinking into the grass. As you reach the front table, your fearless leader welcomes you with a outstretched arm. 

"Our new members get to take on their very own HOA mission," Marge explains as Callie stands, a clipboard in her hands. She comes around beside her longlost twin, "so, Calliope, what do we have?" 

Marge leans over and the two review the clipboard. They hem and haw, muttering. 

"No, Mary is handling that already," Callie says, "these are the new ones." 

They confer then peek back at their table mates, "ladies, please, 14.1b. Do we agree?" 

The women look down at the pink folders and open them, fingertips brushing over paper to find the point in question. The look at each other but something in their expressions is uneasy. Marge clears her throat. 

"Well?" 

"Mm," Eleanor taps her nail on the folder, "yes, I think it will do." 

The others nod, though Shanice does so hesitantly.  

"Marvelous," Marge declares and flips the pages of the clipboard, wiggling free a pristine white envelope with the stamp of the HOA on the sealed flap. She holds it up, presenting it to the audience. 

"By our next meeting, you will report back," Marge declares, "deliver this to the house on the label. Callie," she pushes the clipboard away, "give her the briefing of the issue before she goes. Now we will check in on action items." Marge struts away as Callie pulls loose a sheet of paper and hands it over, "good luck." 

You take it and fold it around the envelope as Marge calls up Erin to present her progress in getting Suzette on Oakfront to remove her Venus statue. You return to your own table, near the back, and sit. Caroline sighs and you glance over at her. 

"What house?" She whispers. 

You let the paper unfold and show her the envelope label. She sniffs and squeezes your elbow, "oh, honey." 

You frown and look down. You stare at the address, you're not sure you're familiar with it. 17 Willow Drive. That's not too far from Elmwood where you live. Should be easy enough. 

💄

You review the directive on the slip of paper. Instead of going straight home, you head a few streets past your house to 17 Willow. You stand across the road in front of 16 and chew your lip. ‘Warning to be delivered to front door. Have occupant sign to acknowledge receipt.’ 

You sigh. You don’t like being the bearer of bad news. You wonder what exactly the homeowner did wrong. Their lawn is tidy and trimmed, the hedges meet the standards of the HOA guidelines, and nothing else sticks out from the row of suburban mansions.  

You cross the street and flick the envelope with your thumb. You hover just outside the gate in your kitten heels. You feel bad already. 

You reach over the white pickets and unclasp the gate. You stroll up the walk, admiring the landscaping. Huh. Paint colour falls within the standard and no unseemly ornaments. You can’t figure out why you’re here. 

You climb the steps and approach the front door. You tap the doorbell and wait, looking around aimlessly. You clutch the paper and envelope tight as your heart races. Maybe all this isn’t for you. You thought the HOA was more a women’s club; they had a book club and social nights and all that stuff, you didn’t really think about the nitty gritty of it all. 

You lean on your left foot, letting your ankle bend.  

“What do you want, toots?” A voice asks from the speaker of the doorbell cam. 

You smile. You didn’t reapply your lipstick. You bend slightly and wave at the lens. 

“Um, hello,” you give your name before you continue, “I’m part of the HOA. I have um, I have something for you.” 

You hear a click. You wait. You check your apple watch as the time stretches on. You peek behind you again then turn back to the front door. You hit the bell again. 

“Leave it in the slot,” the voice growls, “busy.” 

“Oh, right, erm, I do need you to sign--” 

“Christ fuckin’ sakes.” 

The speaker dies out again and you wince at the profanity. Oh, great, he’s already upset. You bounce on your heels and sway. You don’t do well with anger. 

You hear the lock on the inner door twist and you take a breath. You steel yourself and plaster your smile in place. You see a shadow inside then the screen door opens to a naked man with only a hand towel to cover his most intimate spot. He drapes it just in front of his pelvis but you keep your eyes above board. 

“Sorry, I--” 

“I told you, I’m busy,” he snarls, his mustache bristling on his curled lip. 

You swallow and your smile threatens to break. Maybe you should’ve listened and just come back later. You’re speechless as all your mental preparation flutters away. 

“Sir, I, er, I--” 

“Enjoying the view, sweet cheeks?” He scoffs and sends you a wink, “should I lift the towel or what?” 

“Uh, no, please, don’t,” you put your hands up, the envelope nearly slipping from your grasp. “I...” You blink at him. His grey hair droops crookedly, the top longer than the trimmed sides. “Here, er, I just need you to read this and sign--” 

He snatches the letter with one hand and turns it over to look at the HOA stamp. He rolls his eyes. He brings his other hand up, the towel clamped between two fingers and you block out his lower half with your palm and look up. He rips the envelope in two and drops it. 

“You can tell the bimbos to fuck off,” He kicks the remnants towards you, “now if you’ll excuse me, lube’s drying up.” 

He lets the door fall shut and spins around, giving a view of his ass before he slams the inner door. You gasp and bend to gather up the destroyed letter. You quickly retreat, cheeks burning in horror. 

Now you know why Caroline seemed so concerned. 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #the gray man #au #silverfox au #cole turner #ghosted

[huenyang]

pairing: kang taehyun x gender neutral reader / genre: fluff, meet-cute, college au / word count: 1.8k / notes: yet again we are in self-indulgence city smiles

summary: the headache that was previously a nuisance leads you into forming a new friendship - or something more, even.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been laying on the floor of your dark room for. You can’t bring yourself to care, either, thankful that at least like this, your day-long migraine is finally starting to die down.

As your head starts to hurt less and less, your thoughts come easier and easier. Finally, you can think back on the day and try to rationalize how you’re going to make up for an entire day of lost classes.

Fuck. You really didn’t want to think about that, though.

It’s not like you were a stickler for school, but you still preferred to keep your grades up like any normal person. You were in college for a reason, and as much as you weren’t going to destroy yourself studying, you’d like to have good grades, at the very least.

Usually, a single day of missing classes wouldn’t be too bad, but you had already missed quite a few other days, and the work was starting to pile up.

The white ceiling seems to mockingly stare back at you as you run back your day, brows furrowed in concentration as you try to remember any important details or things you should make a note of.

There’s probably not that much I’ve missed today.

Just as you conclude today wouldn’t make much of a difference on your already big pile of missed work, your phone dings repeatedly from across the room, the screen lighting up and begging for your attention in the darkness.

With a groan, you lift yourself off the floor and towards the noisy beast that was your phone. The brightness almost blinds you in contrast with the rest of the room, and you curse yourself for not turning it down before. But most importantly, the reason your phone lit up in the first place: a message.

And the one part of your day you’d mostly forgotten about.

From: Taehyun hey! this is taehyun from class earlier you gave me your number for the project but i didn’t want to message you right away no pressure to respond tho i hope your head feels better

The message’s contents threaten to make your headache come back, but you can’t bring yourself to feel upset. Taehyun had approached you, in your headache-induced misery, and offered to do a group assignment with you so you didn’t go grade-less.

A sweet action, but you can’t help but want to kick your past self in the shin. You had kind of hoped nobody would have to interact with you while you were in that state.

You barely knew him, really. Had heard his name here and there; smart guy with good grades, gym rat, campus heartthrob, even.

Taehyun was known for hanging out with a pretty interesting group. People who talked to him and his friends would often say they had no idea how all five of them even got along, with how different they were. Individually, they all seemed like stark opposites, but if you saw them together you would, without a shadow of a doubt, understand they were close.

Friends aside, people knew Taehyun as a smart guy who always seemed eager to learn no matter the subject. It was no secret that his grades were pretty high most of the time, or at least that’s what the rumors that traveled north to south told you.

So, if anything, at least you’d ended up with someone who knew what he was doing for this.

The next time you meet with him, it’s at the library. You had planned to meet up and start working on the project a couple of days later, the library being the natural first choice.

Your palms feel slightly clammy, still, though. You had never properly talked to this man, and if it weren’t for the unfortunate timing of your headache, you probably wouldn’t ever have. You just weren’t really the kind of person to talk to strangers so freely, much less someone with a reputation already above their head.

To add to all of it, you end up being late. A mixture of exhaustion and staying up late makes you oversleep past your alarm, and consequently, not be as punctual as you had hoped.

Blame it on your own brain, but It’s hard not to see him when you arrive at the library.

In fact, he looks like he fits perfectly around his surroundings. The hood of his jacket is pulled up over his head, the glasses on his nose reflecting his phone screen at you. You’d say he almost looks like a cliche straight out of a y/n story, the rows upon rows of books that stretch around him acting like the claws of a storybook trapping its main character inside it’s story.

But even from this distance, you can finally understand why people say what they say about him.

Taehyun is, indeed, insanely handsome. It’s a little strange, even, the way he fits into the descriptors of smart, handsome, with eyes that reflect the glow of the world itself — like someone had taken his very essence and put it into a couple of words.

Obviously, you know that those words are not nearly enough to describe anyone — much less him. But you allow yourself to live your fantasy, even if for just a second.

Unfortunately, you’re not here to drift off into daydream.

Swallowing your heart that threatens to beat right out of your throat, you walk towards him, the sound of your shoes against the faux wood flooring too loud in your ears.

“Hey,” he greets easily, putting his phone away as he sees you approach. “how do you feel?”

You kind of want to grimace and scream and sink into the floor all at once. You’ve been here for a total of five whole seconds, and even though this is basic decency, the nice words coming out of Taehyun’s lips entangle themselves around your heart and squeeze it like an old sponge. 

“Better now.” You nod, sitting down next to him and pulling your laptop into the table. “Sorry for being late, I uh… Woke up, late.” 

Taehyun offers you a smile. A small one, but you still feel like it could brighten up the whole world if he wanted it to. He waves your concern off, saying it’s no big deal, and that it happens.

The shift from small, awkward talk into schoolwork is quick. That’s what you’re here to do. But as time goes on, you find that Taehyun is easy to talk to. His voice smooth as he explains a bit you didn’t quite understand, smile infectious as he cracks a bad joke that has you mirroring his happiness with your own.

By the time you decide to call it quits for the day, you’ve made a lot more progress than you thought you would. It’s also been a few hours longer than you thought it’d been, being so engrossed in your work and work partner.

You shut your laptop with a deep sigh. Next to you, Taehyun leans back on his chair and stretches his arms behind his head, making a noise that you frankly can’t describe as anything but a cat trill.

A noise that makes you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Like cupid has completely missed his target and instead used boxing gloves to deliver his curse.

“Jesus…” He exhales, relaxing and letting his arms fall to his sides. “That was good. I didn’t expect to get this much done.”

“Yeah, we really did a lot.” You hum in agreement. “That’s all thanks to you though, I can’t believe you understood half of that! I swear, that professor only knows how to explain things one way.”

He turns his head, bashfully, at that. “It’s nothing. I’m happy to help, either way! And it’s not like you’re stupid, either. You helped me with the parts I didn’t fully understand.”

“No, but really! You’re really smart, I can’t believe you didn’t just — I don’t know, get excused to just do this by yourself! You’d be perfectly fine!”

Maybe your voice came out a little louder than you intended it to, because from the corner of your eye you can see people nearby turn their heads toward you. Some of them scoff or roll their eyes slightly, and you make a face. Oops.

If Taehyun notices, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his full attention seems focused solely on you. Like you’re the only person in the room right now, like you’re not in a public library, surrounded by students cramming for their exams and pretending to work on their own projects.

It’s gone as quick as it appears, however, because he grins so big his eyes smile too, replacing that look of pure devotion with unbridled joy.

You feel insane, maybe. The screws in your head are falling out as we speak, kind of crazy. 

This is absolutely ridiculous, the way this man has you feeling like you could outrun an olympic track runner. Everything he does kind of makes you want to sink into the floor and also maybe give him a kiss. Just maybe. A little bit.

God, this is hopeless. I’m hopeless.

While your brain is busy with your own situation, you don’t notice how Taehyun’s ears seem to be just a shade redder than they had been before. How he seems to divert his gaze ever so slightly. How his smile dips into something a touch too affectionate.

He chuckles, breaking you out of your stupor.

“Okay, okay.” Is his answer, if anything, just to get you to stop talking like that about him. “I’ll accept it, but on one condition.”

Oh? Curiosity ignites in you, anticipation and nervousness mixing into a concoction that laps at your feet like a treacherous ocean’s waves.

Nothing could have prepared you for his next words. Somewhere in the back of your head, the little voice in your brain high fives itself, but the normal part of your consciousness feels the anxiety gathering in your hands in the form of sudden, excessive sweating.

“Let’s meet up again,” he breathes, and you can almost hear the tremble in his voice. “Not for school. As friends.”

It feels like your soul has left your body entirely. Like you’ve been physically and mentally cut out from reality in a pathetic puff of smoke. He cannot be serious. This is not real.

“Um.” Great start, idiot. “I… I mean, okay.” Despite how terribly your sentence comes out, Taehyun smiles. That smile of his that has been plaguing you all day, beaming so bright it could permanently erase every shadow from the world.

You’re no stranger to the tiredness that weighs down your bones and glues your eyelids shut for a second too long when you blink. No stranger to the faint headache that you drown out with over the counter medicine as you make your way to class.

But when it comes to Taehyun, you feel as if you could get through anything.

#txt x reader #txt fluff #txt imagines #taehyun x reader #taehyun x gn reader #taehyun soft hours #taehyun soft thoughts #taehyun fluff #writing tag

[multi-fandom-things730]

Welcome to Burlesque

Summary: Y/N is a burlesque dancer who works at Taz’s club. She and his son Hook start developing feelings for each other as they navigate the complicated world of organized crime.

Warnings: mob au, guns, blood, injuries, fighting, cussing, violence, angst, fluff, Jack being a little traitor, club environment, burlesque club, creepy man not taking a hint, drinking

A/N: should I have been writing a speech for college today? Yes. Did I? No. I wrote this💀😂 this burlesque idea is a little thing I came up with while listening to the burlesque movie’s soundtrack😂 and I thought it would be something fun to combine with a mob au. There will be a part 2 to this, and I hope you all enjoy!!!!! 🤍And thank you as always to @99hook for helping me brainstorm and come up with different little ideas for this fic💛💛✨

Working at Taz's burlesque club was a dream come true to Y/N.

Was it a little bit shady? Yes.

Was she aware of the business the Senerchia family was in? It wasn't very hard to figure out being in the club as often as she was.

But did she care? She probably should have a lot more than she did. But she couldn't bring herself to.

Taz was undoubtedly one of the kindest men she'd ever met; at least to her anyway.

Maybe not to everyone else, but being one of the club’s most popular dancers had its perks.

The two ended up spending a lot of time together, as she performed almost every night. And Taz preferred conducting his business at the burlesque club to anywhere else.

He knew it was safe, and there were back rooms disguised as extra dressing rooms he used when business had to get a little messy.

Y/N knew it wasn't the most conventional dream to have, but she had wanted to be a burlesque dancer for years.

When Taz bought the business from the previous owner, Y/N watched as many of her coworkers left when they realized who their new owner really was.

She knew she probably should have gone with them, but she just wasn't willing to give up on her job.

She loved the club so much; she couldn't imagine working anywhere else.

And it may have also had a tiny bit to do with Taz's handsome son.

Y/N and Hook both remembered the first night they met vividly, and they knew they wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

Hook was sitting in a private booth in the corner next to his dad at the burlesque club.

Taz had bought it a few months ago, but he hadn't bothered to come by until tonight.

His dad was dealing with a customer who had put his hands on one of the dancers here, and wanted his men there to help him 'take care' of the problem.

Say what you wanted about Taz, but he and his people did not take that lightly.

The man showed up every Friday night, so they watched the performance while waiting for him to show his face.

Hook was itching for him to show up, ready to beat the disrespect out of the man's body.

But his mind was pulled away from the soon-to-come beat down when a song he vaguely recognized started playing.

It was an older song, but he couldn't quite put his finger on the name.

But when the curtains reopen, Taz laughs when he sees his son's eyes widen and he inhales sharply.

"That's Y/N" Taz informs with a smirk. "She's the most popular dancer here"

"She.. she's gorgeous" Hook mumbles.

Taz laughs and claps Hook on the shoulder. "Don't go getting too distracted, we have business to take care of tonight"

Hook clears his throat and nods, but his eyes quickly trail back to the woman on the stage.

His eyes scanned up and down her body as she sensuously moved across the stage, and her melodic voice floated around the room.

He was so enthralled by her that he didn't even notice when his father's men started shifting around the room.

It wasn't until Taz nudged his side that he snapped out of the trance Y/N had lulled him into.

Later that night, Y/N was sitting at the bar with a drink in her hand.

Her eyes stayed on the stage, watching her friends perform with a smile across her red lips.

"I recognized the first song you sang"

She spins around in her seat, and smiles at the handsome man who had spoken to her. "Yeah? Did you like it?"

"Mhm" he nods, and slides into the empty seat next to her. "But I can't remember the name of it"

"A guy what takes his time. Originally sung by Mae West" Y/N informs.

"You a big fan of her?" Hook asks.

"Very much so" Y/N replies with a grin. "She's such an icon"

"I have to admit, I'm unsure of who she is" Hook says with a sheepish grin.

"She's only one of the most famous sex symbols ever" Y/N says with a giggle. "She even was the first to say the quote 'Why don't you come up sometime and see me?' Rather scandalous for 1933"

"Extremely" Hook concurs with a chuckle, before sticking his hand out. "I'm Hook, but you can call me Tyler"

Y/N was caught off guard by that. Of course she knew who Hook was, but she had heard how he didn't let many people call him Tyler. She even heard a few stories of him beating people up who disrespected him by calling him his real name.

But weirdly, it caused butterflies in her stomach. She placed her hand into his and sent him a sweet smile. "I'm Y/N"

"It's a pleasure to meet you amore" He lifts her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, and that combined with the Italian nickname had a bright blush flushing Y/N's cheeks.

"So" Y/N clears her throat before her face changes to a serious expression. "Is the problem taken care of?"

"What are you talking about?" Hook plays dumb, and if she wasn't already in the know she probably would have fallen for his charming smile.

"You know what I'm talking about" Y/N stares directly into his eyes, annoyance creeping into her gaze. "He comes here every Friday, and all the girls are scared. Taz told me it would be taken care of tonight. Was it not?"

Hook stares at her for a second, unsure of what to say. He couldn't believe she knew. Furthermore, he couldn't believe his dad was the one to tell her. And even further, why did she seem so fine with it?

Taz, who had been behind the bar checking inventory and eavesdropping on the two, decides to walk over and help his seemingly frozen son. "Good evening miele"

Y/N smiles at Taz, and leans over the bar to kiss his cheek. "Hello Taz. I was just asking Hook if the problem was dealt with, but for some reason he seems to be unable to answer me"

Taz chuckles. "Don't worry about him, he's not used to talking to such a vision. He was dealt with earlier tonight, during your performance actually"

Y/N chuckles. "Good"

"It's getting late, and you spend enough time in this club as is. Tyler, why don't you take Y/N home?" Taz proposes.

"No, that's okay. I don't want to impose" Y/N immediately replies.

"I don't mind at all" Hook finally speaks up. "I'd love to give you a ride"

"Then it's settled. Because there's no way I'm letting you walk home this late" Taz says sternly.

Y/N just smiles. "How'd you know I was walking today?"

"It's my job to be observant Y/N. And I heard you complaining about your car not starting" Taz answers. "So until that's fixed, you are getting a ride from someone. It's not safe to walk around here"

"Alright, just give me a few minutes to get my stuff" Y/N gives in. She stands from her seat and smiles up at Hook.

"Thanks Hoo.. Tyler" she corrects herself, and gives his arm a light squeeze as she walks by him.

Taz smirks over at his son, who is looking down at the bar in an attempt to hide his red cheeks. "Tyler? You just met her and she's already allowed to call you Tyler?"

Hook doesn't answer, which causes Taz to laugh.

"You know, she's a good girl. I think you would be good together" Taz says. 

"Really?" Hook asks softly, looking up at his dad.

"Mhm" Taz hums. "But she's not like those other girls you go out with. You can't flash her a smile and she immediately agrees to go out with you. You're gonna have to put some work in. And it better be good, or I won't let you"

Hook chuckles. "You're not gonna let me?"

"No" Taz immediately answers firmly.

Then Y/N walks out with her bag. "I'm ready to go"

Taz walks out from behind the bar and gives her a hug. "Have a good night Y/N"

"You too Taz" she smiles as they pull away.

Hook walks over and takes her bag from her.

"Thanks" she says, and Hook just nods before placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her out of the building.

That next morning Y/N woke up to a surprise.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows, and stops making her coffee when she hears noise coming from her driveway.

She quickly grabs a jacket before walking outside to see what was going on.

But a smile spreads across her lips when she sees Hook in her driveway messing with her car. "Good morning handsome"

He looks up and flashes her a sheepish smile with red cheeks from her compliment. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was already up" She answers. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing your car" he says with a proud grin. "I already figured out what's wrong with it. The battery's dead"

"Is that bad?" Y/N asks, not knowing much about cars.

Hook shakes his head. "It's an easy fix. I'm gonna jump-start it and it should be good as new"

"Well, thank you so much" Y/N smiles. "You didn't have to do all this, but I really appreciate it"

"It's not a problem" Hook brushes it off. "I'm glad to help"

"Come inside when you're done. I’ll make breakfast"

And she did. The two talked and laughed the entire time.

It started becoming a routine for them to have breakfast together.

At first, Hook left after breakfast. But then he started staying a little later. Then he started staying for lunch too. And by the time he stayed for lunch, he may as well have stayed long enough to drive her to the club for her shift, right?

Taz couldn't be more excited watching the two of them walk in together every night, including tonight.

As usual, they walked in right at 5:00, making the most of every minute.

"One of these days you're gonna get here at 5:01, and you're gonna be the one in trouble Tyler" Taz jokes, making the two laugh.

"Don't worry Taz, I'll make sure I'm always here on time. I can't let my favorite Senerchia down" she laughs, and walks over to pat his arm.

Hook pouts, but his lips turn up when she pecks his cheek as she passes him on the way to the dressing rooms.

"How's it going son?" Taz asks once Y/N’s out of sight.

"I think it's going good" Hook answers. "I can tell she's hesitant though"

Taz nods. "Just be patient. She's used to men playing her, just keep showing her you aren't like that"

Later that night Hook was sitting in a booth with his best friend, Jack Perry.

He was standing up and applauding as Y/N left the stage, but not before blowing a kiss towards him.

He pretends to catch it before sitting back down next to a snickering Jack. "What?"

"Nothing" Jack raises his hands in surrender. "I can just tell that you really like her"

"Yeah" Hook mumbles. "But I don't know if she likes me like that"

"You told me you spend time together everyday" Jack replies.

"We do" Hook shrugs. "But whenever I try to kiss her or hold her hand, she always pulls away"

"She's probably just nervous bro" Jack pats Hook's shoulder. "I mean, with her job, she's probably had to deal with a lot of scumbags"

Hook nods. "I know. My dad said the same thing"

But before either of them can say anything else Skye, one of the other dancers, walks over to the table. "Hey Hook. I'm sorry to bother you, but there’s this guy at the bar messing with Y/N. He won't leave her alone, and she said she could handle it, but he's not stopping"

Hook immediately stands up, and scans the bar.

He spots Y/N almost immediately, and the guy next to her who is way too close for his liking.

"Thanks" he says gruffly to Skye before taking off towards Y/N, Jack following close behind.

Hook walks over, and places himself in the space between them. "Hey amore"

He can see the relief on her face as he gently pushes her to stand behind him. "Hi Ty"

She holds onto his arm as Hook stares the guy down.

"Excuse me, we were talking" the guy rudely says, clearly not knowing who he was dealing with.

"It's best if you'd leave man" Jack says from his place next to Hook in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Y/N knew that if looks could kill, that man would already be six feet under from the glare Hook was sending him. So she pulls on his arm, indicating she wants to leave. And he almost does, until the guy opens his mouth again.

"I just said we were talking" The guy repeats.

"You were talking" Hook snaps, pulling away from Y/N to step closer to him. "She wasn't"

"Oh yeah?" The guy stands up, making both Jack and Hook tense up, clearly ready for a fight.

"You got a fucking problem?" Hook demands.

"Ty, Ty let's just go" Y/N says, grabbing onto his arm again. "Please?"

"Yeah, just go" the guy taunts, and Y/N's eyes widen when he pushes Hook.

Chaos happens so quickly after that. Hook immediately pushes him back, and then his fist connects with the guy's jaw.

Jack joins in, and holds the guy still while Hook rains punches down on him.

"Tyler! Tyler stop!" Y/N yells as the bouncers run over and pull the three men apart.

Y/N latches onto Hook's arm as the bouncers drag the guy out.

"Are you two okay?!" She exclaims, quickly scanning them for injuries.

"I'm all good" Jack says. "I'm gonna head out, that was enough excitement for me for one night"

But as Hook wrapped his arms around Y/N to comfort her, he didn't realize what was going through Jack's head. Unbeknownst to Hook, he had just revealed to Jack his weak point.

Y/N headed to work later than normal a few days later. She wasn't supposed to work that day, but Skye was sick and Y/N offered to take her shift.

Hook had some business his father needed him to deal with, so he wasn't there to drive her.

Y/N was headed into the club when it happened.

All of a sudden she was grabbed from behind. She kicked and screamed as loud as she could as the men attempted to drag her into the trunk of their car.

She managed to scratch the hand of the one holding her mouth, causing him to let out a pained yell and loosen his grip.

And with her mouth free she screamed for help; she screamed for Hook.

Anthony, who was one of Hook's friends and Taz's men, heard a scream from his place at the door and ran outside.

Once the men saw Anthony running towards them with his gun out, they dropped Y/N and scrambled to get back in the car.

Y/N let out a yell when she fell onto the pavement and hit her head.

She was in a daze as she just laid there on the ground, watching as the car sped off and blood landed on the ground, dripping from her head.

Anthony kneeled next to her and pulled her into his arms. "Y/N? Hey, you're okay now. I got you"

She curled into his chest as he pulled his phone out and called Taz.

Less than ten seconds later every one of Taz's men in the club came running out with instructions to find the people who did this.

Then Taz himself ran over and kneeled next to them. "Hey hon"

"Hi Taz" she mumbles, sending him a weak smile in an attempt to assure him that she was okay.

He smiled back and brushed some hair out of her face. "You're gonna be just fine miele"

Anthony picks her up and carries her to Taz's car. He lays her down in the backseat before sliding in next to her.

Y/N was still a bit in and out as Anthony pressed a cloth against her bleeding head, but she heard Taz call Hook.

"Son, something's happened at the club"

"What do you mean? Are you and Y/N okay?" Hook asks urgently.

"Yes, we're all alright. But Y/N was hurt, son"

It was silent for a moment, but Y/N heard when Hook's breathing started getting heavier. "What happened?"

Y/N knew that tone. It was calm, too calm. She knew that he was furious, and it worried her that he would go out and try to find the people.

"I want you to come to the house before I tell you all the details"

"Why?!" Hook immediately snaps.

"Because I know you son" Taz replies firmly. "And the minute I give you any details you're going to go out and try to do something"

"Of course I am! Someone hurt Y/N! I am gonna hunt them dow-“

"I am not telling you a damn thing until you're at the house and that's final. Y/N will be there" Taz says with finality before hanging up the phone.

When Taz pulled into the driveway, Y/N was surprised. "You brought me to your house? I thought only the inside circle knows where you live"

But Taz just turns to smile at her. "That's right"

Y/N smiles after that, before sitting up with Anthony's help.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Y/N" Anthony says.

She just nods, and lets him pick her back up and carry her inside.

"Lay her down in the living room, I've got the doctor coming over" Taz tells Anthony, who nods and does as told.

Y/N thanks Anthony after he sits her on the couch, and he smiles and nods in return.

She looks around the room, and her eyes stop on a picture perched on the mantle. It was Hook and his dad when Hook was little. A smile grew on her lips as she stared at the photo.

"I love that picture too" Taz says as he walks into the room with a cup of water.

She thanks him for it as he sits down next to her.

"He hasn't been that carefree in a long time. I suppose that's my fault. Dragging him into this life" Taz sighs.

"No, I don't think it's your fault. He's told me how much he wants to be a part of it. I don't think you could have done anything to stop him" Y/N replies with a sympathetic smile.

Taz nods. "Thanks, hon"

It's then the door swings open and hurried footsteps echo through the house. "Y/N?!"

Y/N winces at his loud yell, and Taz stands up to meet Hook in the doorway. "Hey, her head is still hurting. No yelling, and be gentle with her"

Hook frantically nods before running over to her.

He kneeled in front of her and cupped her face between his warm hands.

Y/N leaned into his palm and closed her eyes. "I'm okay. Don't worry"

"You're not okay" Hook breathes out. "You don't have to lie"

"I'm okay now" she insists. "You're here now. I know nothing can happen to me"

Hook's lips turn upwards slightly, before he reaches up to pull her into a hug. "I was so worried"

"Don't be. I'm tough" Y/N replies.

Hook pulls away to press his forehead against hers. "Yes you are. My strong girl"

The two smile at each other, and sit like that for a moment. Hook was so thankful to be able to sit there and listen to her breathing while holding tightly onto her hands, reassuring him that she was okay.

Then Taz walks in with the doctor.

Hook sat next to her as the doctor cleaned up her cuts, and held her hand the entire time.

Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Taz was talking to his right-hand man; Tony Schiavone.

"I wanna find the people who did this" Taz says in a dangerous tone. "I want them found and brought to me; alive. Understood?"

"Yes" Schiavone nods. "Out of curiosity, what do you plan to do to them?"

Taz just smirks. "I think I'll let Tyler decide that"

Y/N woke up the next morning with a very sore body.

Every time she moved pain shot through her, and she had a terrible headache.

She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, and took a second to brace herself before sliding off of the bed.

She looked to the bedside table for her phone, and smiles when she sees more than just the phone. There was medicine, a cup of water, a little bag of her favorite chips, and one of Hook's hoodies folded up.

She reached over and slipped on the hoodie, taking a moment to savor the smell of Hook's cologne that now swirled around her, before taking the medicine. Then she got out from under the extremely cozy blankets and left the bedroom.

She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair before venturing out into the hallways.

She felt a little awkward making her way around the Senerchia house- well, more like mansion. She was a guest and didn't know her way around very well, but she was really hungry.

She let out a quiet cheer when she found the kitchen, and walked over to the fridge and pantry to see what they had. Y/N pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes, bacon, and eggs. She knew Hook would probably freak out over her cooking after just being injured, but she wanted to do something nice for them.

For absolutely no reason, the Senerchia's had taken her in and accepted her as family. Taz had done so long before she ever even met Hook.

Many people would be angry that they had been attacked because of the Senerchia family, but Y/N wasn't. She knew the lifestyle they lived, and she made a choice to be in their lives anyway. She just wished Hook realized that too. Y/N knew Hook would beat himself up about it for months to come.

As everything was cooking, Y/N was trying to figure out how their coffee machine worked. But she was stumped.

"Something smells amazing" she turns around and smiles when Taz walks into the kitchen.

"Thank you. I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to do something nice for y'all" Y/N says.

"I appreciate it" Taz smiles back.

"I was trying to make you guys coffee too, but I can't figure out this machine" she laughs, making Taz laugh too.

"You've done more than enough this morning" Taz walks over to the pot and takes it from her hands. "Let me make the coffee at least"

"What a great team we make" Y/N grins, before heading back over to the stove.

"I assume you're feeling better this morning?" Taz asks.

"I don't feel great, but definitely better than last night" Y/N answers. "Got a splitting headache though"

"That'll clear up in a few days" Taz comforts.

Y/N nods. "Thank you for taking care of me last night"

"Hey, you're one of us now" Taz says. "You will be protected from here until forever"

Y/N couldn’t stop the bright smile that took over her face, until the next words that come from Taz. "Unless you decide you don't wanna be part of this life of course"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N immediately asks.

"I'm not gonna lie to you Y/N, most people don't make it long-term in this world. The danger, the not knowing if someone will make it back home, the threat of the cops, it's not an easy life to live. And I know Tyler hasn't asked you to officially be his girl yet, but I know he wants to. And when he does, I just want to make sure you know that you have options. This incident.. I can't guarantee it, or something worse, won't happen again. I wish I could but I can't. You know we're gonna do everything we can to make sure no one lays a pinky finger on you ever again, but.. if it all becomes too much for you, I need you to know that I can get you out. I can send you away, somewhere even Tyler won't know. You can get a fresh start away from all of this"

Y/N stares at Taz for a moment, letting his words settle, before she smiles softly. "Thank you so much Taz, but I won't be needing any of that. Ever. I'm here for the long haul as long as Tyler will have me"

Taz just smiles back, incredibly happy to have Y/N as a part of their family.

Now all he needed was for Hook to man up and confess his feelings to Y/N.

Taz knew he was scared; scared of the danger it would put Y/N in. But it seemed that the danger was already present. And seeing it first hand had shaken Hook. The original plan that night was for Hook to finally ask Y/N to be his girl. They told Y/N that Hook had something Taz needed him to do; when really he was out getting some gifts for her. He had dinner reservations at her favorite restaurant, and he was going to pick her up from the club early and take her out. But of course, the night did not end the way Hook had hoped.

Then Hook walks into the kitchen, and his eyes widen when he sees Y/N cooking. "Y/N! You don't need to be cooking, you need to be resting!"

Y/N just laughs as he puts his hands on her arms and guides her to sit down at the kitchen island. "I'm feeling okay Ty"

"No, you need to rest amore" Hook says, and leans down to kiss her on the forehead before taking her place at the stove.

Jack sighed from his seat at the burlesque club.

He watched as Y/N performed, the gears in his head turning rapidly.

His plan to kidnap her had failed, and he was actually kind of glad about it.

He had realized since that night a few things. And the biggest one was that Y/N is fiercely loyal to Hook and his family. Even after almost getting abducted she stuck by his side, perhaps closer than ever.

He realized if his plan had worked, she wouldn't have told him shit about Taz's operations.

Jack couldn't ask Hook; they were friends, but he'd realize what was up if Jack started poking around.

But anyone who was an enemy of the Senerchia may kidnap Hook's girl to try and get information to take them down.

But Y/N wouldn't crack, Jack was now sure of it.

So he decided on a new plan:

Psychological warfare.

He didn't need to take Y/N from Hook, he was gonna make her want to leave.

#aew #aew hook #aew hook x reader #hook aew x reader #hook x reader #hook imagine #hook aew #send hook #aew x reader #aew fanfiction

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn star Female reader

Summary: You texted Frankie after your evening together, but what happened next?

Word count: ~600

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: descriptions of sex acts

A/N: This follows the events of The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales so be sure to read that first!  I did the most minimal of research for this, so please forgive any inaccuracies.  I have been overwhelmed (in the best way) by the response to Sweepstakes Frankie.  I hope what I’ve imagine here does him justice.  Enjoy!

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Frankie! Come see this!” you exclaim from the bedroom.

“What is it?” Frankie comes in, running a towel through his shower-damp hair, wearing just his worn blue jeans.  You take in the view of his soft tummy and bare feet, momentarily distracted from the news you called him in to share.

You just had him in your bed less than an hour ago, but you’d gladly have him back again.  You shake your head to clear the distracting thoughts.

“Right. I was just uploading today’s video when I saw that we hit 1,000 subscribers!”

“What? Really? That sounds like a lot.”  He sits down next to you on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip and bumping your knee against his side.  His fresh, clean scent wafts over you and you have to resist the urge to snuggle into his warm skin.

“It is a lot,” you beam at him, and he returns your smile with a lopsided grin of his own. “We’ll be making real money soon.”

It had been after another fun and satisfying fuck with your favorite civilian that you had pitched Frankie the idea of starting an OnlyFans with you.

The way you saw it, there was an untapped market for soft, brown-eyed men, who gave amazing head.  Your rapidly rising subscriber numbers are proving your hunch to be correct.

Frankie had thought it over, but he said it was ultimately a pretty easy decision.  Why not try to earn a little extra money doing something he loved?

You called your channel “The Pussy Eating King”

Your signature videos were first person POVs of him eating you out.  Sometimes he looked directly down the camera with those soulful eyes.  Others, he closed them to get completely lost in the pleasure of your cunt.  It was devastating… in the best way.  And the viewership numbers agreed.

Second to those, were the videos you filmed from between Frankie’s legs, looking up at him while you stroked his gorgeous cock until he came.  His disheveled curls and pink cheeks are the stuff dreams are made of.

Dirty dreams.

Dreams you wake up needy and desperate from.

It would be selfish to keep that view just for yourself.

“I think we should celebrate,” Frankie muses, pulling on his t-shirt and running his fingers through his messy curls.  “Can I take you on a date?”

“A date?” Your pulse pounds in your ears.  Sure, you have sex with Frankie on a regular basis.  You have sex with a lot of people.  Sure, you often wind up spending the day in bed with him just talking, but being with him in public? With clothes on?

Frankie senses your hesitation.  “It doesn’t have to change anything.  I just really like you and want to spend time with you.”

“I… ok,” you hear yourself answer.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 8.”  Frankie kisses the top of your head and makes his way out of your apartment, picking up his hat as he goes.  Before he closes the door, he turns and winks.

- - - - - - - - - 

Later that night, Frankie takes your hand as you walk down the sidewalk.  He twines his fingers with yours in a way that feels more intimate than anything you’ve done in the bedroom.

He said nothing would change, but things always change.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder if maybe that isn’t a bad thing.

- - - - - - - - - -

A/N: If these types of videos exist, please let me know…

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#the sweepstakes #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

[shadowlali]

mayor que usted - ch. 2

COD AU - Coronel Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~10k series masterlist

series summary: You live a carefree and happy life in Las Almas now that El Sin Nombre is gone. Unbeknownst to the people, a new narco moves in with his eyes on you and nothing to lose. Alejandro steps up as your pretend boyfriend while Los Vaqueros stage a plan to take down this new threat. It's fake dating until it's not. You and Alejandro slip into the roles too well and lines begin to blur. Will Alejandro be able to let go of his own rules to allow himself the chance to find love? Based off this request.

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no use of y/n, not too many descriptions of reader (Alejandro is taller than reader), age gap (not specified but keep it legal), stalker behavior by unwanted suitor, mentions of blood/violence, mentions of narcos/cartels, mentions of drugs, cliffhanger, mutual pining, slow burn, size kink, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v, somnophilia (consensual), creampie (many) a/n: thank you all for being so patient! sargento in spanish is pronounced sar-hen-toh

Reader's P.O.V.

“What are we doing here?” 

“An errand,” Alejandro responds as he parks his truck close to the plaza. 

“So talkative,” you mutter under your breath. 

You see Alejandro laugh as he walks around the front of the truck and comes to open the passenger door. His attention is on you while he helps you jump down but his eyes are on a constant swivel as you begin to walk. Before reaching the main plaza, Alejandro links his fingers through yours and brings you in closer. It’s your first time back in town after the break-in, the past few days you’ve been holed up at Alejandro’s ranch. 

Rudy’s mom immediately wanted to take you back to their home but Alejandro stopped her, saying his girlfriend would be staying at his home. To say Rudy’s mom and Alejandro’s mom were happy would be an understatement. The break-in was momentarily forgotten while they pounced with hugs and kisses and slight chastising because they weren’t aware you two were together. 

Alejandro had already come up with a plan the day before on what the story would be. According to him, you two have always been attracted to each other. Neither of you made a move for fear of rejection until Alejandro realized he couldn’t imagine you with anyone else but him. It was sweet and to the point.

Ximena thought it was extra sweet that Alejandro was the one to come up with the story, making a comment while you two were alone that it would be amazing if this led to something more. You reminded her that it was fake, even if your heart fluttered just a bit at the idea. However, the last thing you want to do is make Alejandro uncomfortable. 

You're shaken out of your thoughts as Alejandro stops in front of the local jewelry store. Once inside, the store attendant waves hello and steps in their back room. Alejandro walks to the register to wait and you take a moment to walk around the store. You don’t come in here often, but the few times you have you always take a look at the shiny jewelry. Underneath the glass display, one particular ring catches your eye. The large diamond placed in the middle of the gold band twinkles back at you. The store attendant comes back with two long boxes and you hear Alejandro call your name.

“We were able to clean your chain, Coronel,” she states as she opens one box to show the thick chain Alejandro wears everyday, ”and we also found the one you were looking for. It was a little difficult to find the pendant and we did have to call another store in the next town over, but we put it together like you asked.”

She places the box in front of you and opens it. A dainty gold chain and butterfly pendant are laid upon the cushioned silk of the box. 

“¿Te gusta?” Alejandro asks you. [Do you like it?]

“I–yes, it’s beautiful.”

Alejandro picks up the necklace and opens the clasp. “Turn around, nena.” 

“Wait, it’s for me? Alejandro, no that’s–that's too much. I–”

“Turn around,” he insists more firmly. 

You raise your eyebrow at his tone, ignoring the flash of heat in your core. The corner of his lips curve slightly before he hides his smile and gently turns you around. With no room to deny him, you let him wrap the chain around your neck. His fingertips brush over your skin briefly while he adjusts the piece before he moves back. You turn towards one of the mirrors on the display case to thumb the gold butterfly, watching it wink back through the mirror. 

“Alejandro, I don’t know what to say?” 

“Say you accept my gift.” he says plainly, as if buying you an expensive present is completely normal on a random weekday. 

You whisper thank you and lean to place a small kiss on his jaw, your lips tickled by the thick hair from his beard. He offers you a smile while he quickly clasps his own chain around his neck. The store attendant busies herself by placing both boxes in a gift bag with some cleaning kits.  

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation, the store attendant and Alejandro’s voice drowned out by the blood rushing to your ears. It’s not the first gift he’s bought for you, the journals and books and nice pens that sit on your desk are a testament to what an amazing gift giver he is. 

But this is the first time he’s bought jewelry for you, expensive and personalized jewelry. It has to be all a part of his plan… right? Yes, you think, he probably has a much more logical reason for this gift. If the store attendant had to call a store in another town to find something for Coronel Alejandro Vargas, then that’s already two separate people outside of the families who know about the relationship. While you love this town, it's small enough that any sort of gossip spreads like wildfire and will eventually reach León. 

Their conversation comes to an end and Alejandro leads you out of the store, once again reaching for your hand. The walk back to the truck is interrupted by a few people coming up to ask if you’re okay. You think their concerns are genuine, but you can also see their curious glances towards your linked hands. Alejandro lets them know he’s looking into the break-in but in the meantime his mujer will be staying with him. [woman]

In that moment you thank Alejandro and Rudy’s need for privacy. While their families and very close friends know where they live, most in Las Almas have only an idea of where their homes might be. The last thing you want is León finding Alejandro or Rudy’s home and doing something in retaliation. Alejandro leads you back to the truck and begins the drive to base. 

“Ale… why did you buy me this necklace?” you ask while absentmindedly playing with the pendant. 

He glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other arm placed on the center console. You can see your reflection in his black aviators. He fixes his eyes on the road once more before he answers. “I thought you deserved something nice after what happened.” 

You’re left speechless for a few seconds until you laugh. “You’re already doing so much for me! A necklace wasn’t necessary.” 

“Just enjoy it, yeah?” he says. 

You nod and lean over the console to place another kiss on his cheek. The rest of the ride is left in comfortable silence. 

- - - 

Alejandro’s P.O.V.

Alejandro only half listens to Rudy as he sees you walk away with Ximena, most likely to her office where she does their bookkeeping. Ximena points to the necklace and while he can’t hear what she says, he assumes she’s asking about it. You disappear from view as the both of you turn the corner. 

“Alejandro? Alejandro?” Rudy asks. 

“Ye—Yes, you were talking about the cargo you intercepted.” 

Rudy raises his eyebrow slightly but continues talking, “I have some soldiers sorting through it but it’s weapons we haven’t seen before.” 

“What did the driver say?” 

Rudy sighs, “Nothing valuable. Said he was hired to pick up the truck and drive it to some place not far from here. He had a map so I sent some soldiers to check it out… You think it was León?” 

Alejandro’s stomach sours at the mention of that name. “Could be. Let’s hope the soldiers find something good.” 

Rudy leaves, relieved from his shift now that Alejandro is there. He takes you and Ximena with him, getting instructions from Alejandro to drop you off at his home. Alejandro does a few rounds on base, checking in on the soldiers while also periodically checking his phone to view his security cameras. Once he sees that his home is quiet, aside from the guards patrolling the outskirts of his property, Alejandro makes his way to the cargo. 

The warehouse that holds the confiscated semi-truck is noisy and busy, the soldiers removing boxes and sorting through all the weapons carefully. He takes a look at the various pieces, his jaw clenching once he realizes they were assembled in parts. It’ll be difficult to trace the weapons to the source. It hurts him to see all of this. Alejandro worked so hard to free Las Almas only for narcos to start moving back in. No. I won’t let them, he thinks. 

Alejandro spends the rest of the afternoon sorting through and taking inventory of what they find. They manage to find a burner phone hidden underneath the seat. He has one of the soldiers try to trace the phone numbers and look through the text messages. It turns out to be useless, the two phone numbers recorded in the phone seem to be from a randomized phone number app. More bad news comes his way once the soldiers sent to check-out the drop off sight come back with no information. The drop-off site was an empty field with no signs of life in the surrounding area. 

Hours later, once the sun has set and they’ve sorted through half of the boxes, Alejandro decides to leave. On a normal day, he’d stay on base to work the moment he wakes. He rushes home instead, wondering if his guest needs him even though he knows you’re okay. It’s still early in the night, and he assumes you’re curled up on the couch with one of the books from his shelf. The scent of home cooked food drifts to him once he walks through the front door. Alejandro walks towards the dining room and sees you place dishes on the table. 

“Hey, you’re home!” you greet him. “I made dinner.” You offer him a bright smile and continue talking, ”I realized if I’m staying here the least I could do would be to cook.” 

Alejandro isn’t sure how to react and instead continues to stand still, surprise etched on his face.  

“I asked your mom what your favorite foods are and she gave me some of her recipes.” 

“She must have been very excited that you called,” he manages to say after his silence. “But, you don’t have to, you’re a guest–” 

Your smile drops and you let out a sigh, “I want to, Ale. Just let me do this, okay?”

Alejandro notices the stubborn look in your eyes, the one where he knows you’ll just ignore him. He nods once, the smile returning to your face once you realize he’s accepting your proposition. You walk back into the kitchen to get his drink after telling him to wash up. As he makes his way to his room, Alejandro smiles to himself. Despite being serious about not wanting you to worry about cooking for him, he can’t help but feel warmth spread through his chest at all the effort you put in. 

The conversation flows easily between the two of you, Alejandro’s body calming down after his long day of work. He savors each bite of food and tells you over and over how delicious it is. You wave him off, a shy looking flashing across your face. You ask him personal questions, like what his favorite books are and when was the first time he rode a horse.

It's been a few hours, the food and drinks long gone. Alejandro begins picking up plates and cups once he notices the sleepy look in your eyes. He doesn’t want the night to end, which is scary to think. In these past few days and in these last few hours, he’s come to realize how comfortable he is in your presence. He craves more of you, more of your thoughts and your stories and the sound of your voice. 

You refuse to stay sitting, instead helping dry plates while he washes. Alejandro asks about your plans the next day and his stomach drops once you remind him that you’ll be returning to work. As much as he’d love to keep you locked up in his house until the threat is neutralized, you deserve to live your normal life. With a soldier he’s handpicked to protect you, of course. 

The kitchen now clean, the both of you walk down the hallway. You bid him goodnight once you reach your door. With a soft click, the door to your room closes. He stares at the closed door for a few moments, listening to your muffled steps and then the shower turning on. Alejandro drags his feet to his room, wondering how he’s going to survive living under the same roof as you. 

- - - 

Reader’s P.O.V.

Bright and early the next day you arrive to work and park your car. You wave to the escolta who parks right next to your car and make your way into the boutique. You manage to take some steps inside before you’re bombarded with questions from your coworkers. [bodyguard]

“Why didn’t you tell us you were dating Coronel Vargas?” 

“Is it true he bought you a neckla–oh, it's so pretty!” 

“How long were you planning on keeping this a secret?” 

“When did you move in with him?” 

“Are you okay?” your boss asks. 

You nod,” Yes, I’m okay. Alejandro is working on it—“ 

Simultaneous ooohhs and you call him by his first name? are exclaimed by your coworkers and luckily your boss shoos them away, taking you aside and once again asking you how you feel. Once you’ve assured her that you’re fine and ready to work again, she leaves to the back office. You drop your things off in the backroom and your coworkers pounce again. You answer their questions, finding it quite funny how obsessed they are about your new ‘relationship’. 

You fall back into the routine you know and love so much. Clothes are folded or added onto mannequins, inventory is checked, and light gossip is passed between you and your coworkers. You don’t realize how much you missed in the week gone from work. Customers come in and window shoppers are abundant today but you’re not sure if it's because they want new clothes or a glimpse at Coronel Vargas’ new girlfriend. 

As you clean the front window, you try to remember any of Alejandro’s past girlfriends. You’ve known both families long enough but the only woman you can think of is Valeria. You’re not quite sure what happened between them, if Alejandro broke her heart or the other way around. It does hurt to think about Alejandro being alone all these years, maybe unable to open up again after his last failed relationship. 

The window becomes clean enough that you can see your reflection and the local florist walk across the street. You turn around and the older man waves with one hand while carrying a giant bouquet of bright pink tulips. 

“Making a special delivery?” you joke. 

“Yes! How did you know?” he asks. 

“Oh—uh, I didn’t! Are they for me?”

He laughs at your genuine look of confusion and hands you the bouquet, “Coronel Vargas said pink tulips are one of your favorite flowers.” 

You grab the bouquet slowly, feeling your heart double in size. “Yeah, they are,” you whisper. “Thank you.” 

He says goodbye and you push open the boutique door with your shoulder, jumping slightly once you hear screams of excitement from your coworkers. 

Before you can grab it, one of your coworkers swipes the small notecard sticking out from the top. “‘I hope you have a great day at work, nena - Ale.’ Aw, you call him Ale? That’s so cute!” 

It’s becoming difficult to separate the fake from the real. On one hand, you’re well aware that this relationship is fake and the truth will come out once Leòn is caught. On the other hand, there’s moments where you think Alejandro and you share something deeper. Last night for example, you could’ve sworn Alejandro didn’t want the conversation to end. He even went as far as to walk you back to the guest bedroom. 

The tulips are probably for appearances only, but that doesn’t stop you from snapping a photo and sending it to him. The horrible memory of the last bouquet you received is pushed out of your mind with the help of Alejandro.

You: [Image sent] 

9:27 A.M.

thank you for the tulips! i’m having a great day at work 🌷🤍

9:28 A.M.

Ale: [Ale loved an image]

9:29 A.M.

I’m glad you like them and I’m happy to hear.

9:29 A.M. 

- - -  

Work isn’t until later in the morning so there isn’t a reason to be up so early, but you like the view of the sunrise through the big windows in the living room. It’s been your new routine for the past days, waking up early and sitting on the couch while Alejandro gets ready for base. The first time he spoke to you with his morning voice, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin. It’s deep and more rough than usual, but it's a sound you’ve come to crave. 

Alejandro is surprisingly talkative in the early hours of the day, telling you what his plans are then wanting to know yours. He brings you a cup of coffee, strong and dark with just a splash of milk, and leans on the armrest of the couch. His eyes are always sleepy and his voice stays low while he stares out of the window, the both of you watching the beams of dark red and orange paint the sky. 

Your life isn’t the only one that’s changed; Alejandro’s routine and mornings are probably a lot more different. You’re surprised at how welcoming he’s been, never making you feel like you’re imposing in his home. He makes sure the couch always has thick blankets for the cold mornings and remembers to make your coffee exactly how you like it. Even on the days where he needs to leave a little earlier or runs late, he’ll leave the mug waiting by the window sill. 

In the afternoons when Alejandro returns from work, you’re always in the process of finishing dinner. He’ll put down his things, wash up, then help you set the dining table. Sometimes Ximena and Rudy or their moms will visit, and it feels like you’re having dinner with family. When Alejandro comes home tired from work, the two of you will sit in comfortable silence. He tries to keep a conversation going, but you always remind him to relax and enjoy dinner. 

No matter how tired or drained he is from the day, he’ll insist on helping with the dishes and making you tea. You’re not quite sure when he noticed that you like to drink tea before bed, but he’ll fill the kettle and place a tea bag in the mug you use so often. And that’s the routine that you two follow mostly every single day. 

You know it won’t last forever. You know that eventually Los Vaqueros will catch León and you’ll go back to your own house. You know that one morning you’ll wake up to watch the sunrise and Alejandro won’t be there with his sleepy voice and a cup of coffee. But until then, until the threat is taken down and Las Almas once again knows peace, you’ll cherish these moments with Alejandro and ignore the countdown in your head. 

- - - 

Alejandro’s P.O.V.

He sits at his desk with a giant map of Las Almas and surrounding cities printed on it. There’s little red circles and lines that he draws on the map as he listens to the radio. Rudy stands on the other side of the desk, turning the dial to bypass the static. Even before catching El Sin Nombre, there’s been a group of soldiers dedicated to listening to chatter on the radio. 

Earlier today, the soldiers alerted Rudy of what they believe to be León’s men coordinating the shipment of product. The only reason the soldiers believe it’s them is because they mentioned his name once before another told them to use patrón instead. Now, Alejandro listens to the conversations and places circles over the regions they mention. 

An hour passes by with complete silence over the radio but by then, Alejandro has already sent out a drone to scope out the area. The camera footage shows tents, trailers, and semi trucks. He can see people moving boxes into the trucks and smoke coming out of the open tents. Alejandro decides not to wait for more conversations over the radio, deciding to stop the trucks from leaving and breaking down what he assumes to be makeshift labs. 

“¿Estás seguro?” Rudy asks as they put on their vests. “You don’t want to wait to make sure?” [Are you sure?]

“No, let's go.” 

Adrenaline begins to flow through Alejandro’s body, the familiar buzz he feels right before a mission is back. The Jeeps file out of the warehouse and he hears the soldiers shout buena suerte. He sends a quick message to you, that he’ll be gone until morning but everything will be okay. He leaves it at that, not wanting to make you nervous. [good luck]

They leave the cars parked a few clicks away and manage to ambush the men. Some try to run, but they don’t get far. Once the men are secured and sitting on the ground, Alejandro does a last sweep through the trailers and tents. Just as he suspected, they were making, packaging, and shipping all in this location. He doesn’t find León, none of the men look like the security footage from the bar. 

He walks into the farthest trailer, separating from the rest of the soldiers. The inside of the trailer is disgusting; dirty mattresses on the floor, liquor bottles, and of course drug paraphernalia. The backdoor to the rest of the trailer is closed. Alejandro props up his weapon and wiggles the door handle. It doesn’t budge. He’s not sure if it's locked or if something on the other pushes against it to keep it closed. 

Just as he lifts his leg to kick it open, he feels the sudden pain of a blunt metal object hitting the back of his head. He grunts from the pain, but manages to spin and block the next blow from his attacker. His eyes are unfocused and he feels warm blood begin to drip down his head. Alejandro sees the silver glint of a knife and quickly shoots the attacker in the knee. With a shout of agony, the man falls and drops both weapons. 

He kicks the weapons out of reach and scans the trailer. Alejandro finds the door open to a tiny closet that he missed when he first walked in, mentally kicking himself for not checking thoroughly. Rudy kicks open the main door with his gun drawn, noticing the screaming man on the floor then Alejandro holding up a handkerchief to the back of his head. 

“What happened?” Rudy shouts over the noise. 

“Nada, sargento,” Alejandro rebuffs while wincing in pain,”let’s light it up.” [Nothing sergeant]

Once outside, Alejandro sees one of the trucks being loaded with boxes of intel and the captured men. His attacker, now passed out from blood loss and pain, is also placed in the truck with a makeshift tourniquet. With the truck heading back to base, they tip over all the tubs full of chemicals and rip open the packaged product. They find gasoline in canisters and dump it all over the site and through each trailer. From a safe distance Alejandro shoots the trail of gasoline with a flare gun. It only takes five minutes for the entire place to go up in flames. 

“Thank God we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Rudy mutters. 

Back at base, the pain in his skull has decreased to a slight throbbing. It’s loud and a little chaotic with the soldiers placing men in cells and providing or receiving medical treatment. Alejandro sends out a prayer in thanks for none of his soldiers being badly injured. The onsite paramedic cleans Alejandro’s wound and stitches him up. 

“I fear you may have a concussion,” the medic states while removing his gloves, “I need you to rest but not fall asleep for a few more hours.” 

“Yeah, yeah I understand. I’ll go back to my office to help sort through–” 

“Coronel, it’s best if you relax for the rest of the night. Why don’t you have someone drive you back home? Away from all the noise and chaos?” 

They go back and forth for a bit, Alejandro too energized by pain and adrenaline to worry about resting. Eventually, the doctor arrives and sends Alejandro home. He doesn’t realize how late it is until he checks his watch and realizes it's past midnight. A soldier drops him off at the ranch and Alejandro stumbles only slightly when walking inside. He unlocks the door and is immediately enveloped in your warm embrace. 

“Ale, are you okay? What–what happened?” you ask with terror clogging your voice. 

He brings his arms up and around you, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You tremble slightly in his embrace and lean back to look at him. Alejandro notes your red, teary eyes and wipes his thumb across your wet cheek; you’ve been crying. 

“I’m okay, nena. Just a bump on my head.” 

You squeeze him tighter and he cups your face in his large hands, wiping away the tears that fall. 

“No llores, bebé. Te prometo que estoy bien.” he croons. [Don’t cry, baby. I promise I’m okay.]

Alejandro can tell you don’t completely believe him because more tears fall from your pretty eyes, but you nod and let him go anyway. 

“How did you know something happened?” Alejandro asks. 

“Ximena saw the Jeeps leave and heard one of the soldiers talking. She texted me to see if I knew anything.” you respond. 

Alejandro tries to nod but ends up wincing instead. He reaches a hand to touch the back of his skull. You let go of him and quickly walk around, gasping once you see the stitches in the dim light. 

“You said you were okay, Alejandro!” 

He winces again, not from the tone or volume of your voice but because it’s the first time in a while that you use his full name. “I am, I might have a concussion but–” 

“A what? Oh my god, let’s get you to your room.” 

Too tired to disagree, Alejandro lets you lead him to his room once he’s kicked off his dirty boots in the entryway. He waits while you enter his bathroom and turn on the shower. You ruffle through his drawers and take out pajamas for him. 

“Come on, in the shower,” you say while pulling him by his hand,” I’m going to wait outside while you shower. Don’t close the door all the way so I can hear if you fall.” 

Alejandro smiles at the serious look on your face, emotion swirling in his stomach at you being so ready to care for him. You roll your eyes and push him into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. He groans once the hot water touches his skin. Careful to not wet the stitches, Alejandro washes off the blood and sweat from his body. Once clean, he shuts off the water and sluggishly puts on the clothes you chose for him. 

He walks out of the bathroom to see you sitting on the edge of his bed with a cup of coffee. He tries to reach for it, but you swat his hand away and point to the glass of water and the pain meds next to it. Alejandro swallows the pills and finishes his water as you turn on the TV and select a random movie.  

“I called the doctor on base,” you start,” and she said to keep a watch over you for the next few hours. So I’m going to stay here and we’re going to watch movies until I know for sure you’re okay.” 

Alejandro pushes the covers back on his bed and gets underneath. He pats the spot next to him, figuring you’re too stubborn to convince to leave. You eye the spot for a moment but walk to the other side of the bed and place the coffee cup on the nightstand. Before you can decide to sit on top of the covers, Alejandro throws them back. You get underneath them but sit a respectable distance away from him on the king size bed. 

“Are you allowed to tell me what happened?” you whisper. 

Alejandro turns towards you and nods, ”We heard that León had some men working up in the hills. We didn’t find him, but we found his men and burned the place down.” 

“Still a win, Ale.” 

He gives a noncommittal hum. 

“How did that happen?” you say while pointing to his head. 

He groans, mostly from embarrassment. “I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t hear someone come up behind me…I think Rudy was right.” 

“In what?” 

Alejandro reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. “Maybe we could have waited before hitting the place. Maybe León would’ve shown up eventually.” 

“You’ll catch him. I know you will.” 

You lean towards him and place a warm kiss on his cheek. It scorches and leaves tingles on his skin. You lean back slightly, your face close to his. “Please be careful, Ale.”

His eyes flit down to the butterfly pendant on your soft chest, up to your lips then to your shiny eyes. He sees the moment your pupils dilate and move down to glance at his mouth. Alejandro forgets about the pain in his head and instead focuses on the beating of his heart. He brings up a hand to cup the side of your head and runs his thumb over your jaw. Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip and he decides then and there he’s going to kiss you. 

Just as he leans in, the sound of his ringtone startles you both. You jump back and he quickly reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He clenches the phone in his hand, cursing Rudy in his head as he sees his name flash on the screen. You clear your throat and reach for the coffee cup to take a sip. 

“I can–uh–I can leave–” you start. 

“No, no. I’ll take this in the hallway.” Alejandro interrupts. 

He answers the call a little bit angry and becomes more annoyed once Rudy tells him what’s going on at base. All of the men were separated in the cells, yet none of them can pinpoint exactly where León is. They can only vaguely give a description of the region where he might be. Alejandro tells Rudy to keep him updated if anything and ends the call. He returns to the room to see you back at the other side of the bed. 

“Anything important?” you ask. 

Alejandro runs a hand across his jaw, making a note to trim his beard in the morning. “No, nothing yet.” 

You change the conversation, essentially shutting down the idea of revisiting the ‘almost kiss’ from earlier. He decides not to press the issue and instead gets back into bed. You stay with him for a total of three movies, the conversation light and normal. Once you’ve made sure he’s okay, you turn off the TV and let him sleep, shutting the door behind you. As he listens to the sound of you walking back to your room, he wonders what would have happened had Rudy never called. 

- - - 

“Do you miss having them?” you ask while holding onto his waist. 

Alejandro has since been cleared from his concussion and unfortunately no other voices have been heard on the radio. It’s a nice weekend, with the sun bright and the air fresh. The perfect weather to go horseback riding. So that’s what you two are doing, riding on one of Alejandro’s former horses. 

“Sometimes, yeah. But they like being at Rudy’s ranch. They get a lot of exercise and the whole family loves them.” he responds. 

“Why does Rudy have them?” 

“I had too much going on with Los Vaqueros and couldn’t dedicate any time to them. Rudy’s uncles told me they would take care of them so I could focus.” 

Focusing is what Alejandro is currently struggling with. He feels the warm press of your body on his back and legs. The flowery scent of your perfume wraps around him. You talk directly in his ear, scratching an itch in his brain with each word you say. He should have brought you horseback riding sooner if he knew how close you were going to be. 

“I’ve seen them at Rudy’s home. I just never knew they were yours,” you pause before continuing,” once this situation with León is over, I promise I’ll help you care for any horses or animals you bring to your ranch.” 

Alejandro chuckles,” Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Alejandro brings the horse to the little barn in the plaza meant for those who come into town on their horses. He dismounts then helps you down, his head becoming dizzy at the feel of your body sliding down his front. He keeps his hands wrapped around your waist and stares into the pools of your eyes. Your mouth parts and he can see the pink tip of your tongue. He brings you in closer, ready to kiss you. Before he can, both of your hats bump into each other. 

“Shit–” 

“I’m sorry–” 

“¿Cuánto tiempo estarán fuera?” The man who runs the stables asks, coming to collect the horse and hand Alejandro a ticket.  [How long will you be gone?]

“Só–sólo unas horas,” Alejandro stutters. He grabs the ticket and places his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the stables. [Just a few hours] 

Once in the plaza, he holds your hand in his. That’s the second time where the kiss has been interrupted. He knows it’s probably for the best, that it’s a bad idea to experience the soft press of your mouth on his, to hold you even closer to his body and devour your mouth until you’re both gasping for air. 

“There they are,” you exclaim as you point towards a group of people. 

You wave and begin walking faster, pulling Alejandro with you. His and Rudy’s parents, along with Rudy and Ximena are waiting outside of a restaurant. Like the polite and perfect person you are, you greet each one with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Alejandro accidentally let it slip to Rudy that he was planning on bringing you to this restaurant for a date. Rudy decided to invite both families and inform Alejandro the morning of, making it too late for him to cancel. 

They seat your party outside and for the next few hours Alejandro’s need to kiss you doesn’t stop. To keep up with appearances, you sit close to him with his arm around your shoulder. This provides Alejandro the best position to place soft kisses on the side of your head and the apples of your cheeks. On the third or fourth time he places a kiss on your cheek, he can feel the heat of your skin, you most likely just as flustered and affected as him. 

Alejandro doesn’t have to pretend like dating you is difficult. You’re kind and honest and so beautiful to look at. Even now, while you argue with his dad about which players are the best on the national football team, he can’t help but desire for all of this to be real. You fit so nicely in his home, with his family, and in his life. 

He wakes up every morning ready to serve you a cup of coffee and watch the sunrise. He thinks about you while he’s at work, wondering if you’re having a good day at your job. Alejandro rushes home every night, ready to hear your sweet voice and spend time together before you both walk to separate bedrooms. 

Catching that wannabe narco is his main priority and he knows he’s only getting closer to trapping him. But the idea of losing you after this is all over sends pangs of hurt through his heart. Alejandro knows this isn't going to last forever, that one day you’re going to return to your normal life without him. But it still doesn’t lessen the pain. 

The dinner comes to an end and Alejandro settles the bill. Despite being a little annoyed with Rudy this morning, he can’t help but recognize how nice it was to spend time with his family. The both of you make your way back to the stables, the awkward moment from earlier seemingly forgotten. Alejandro returns the ticket and pays while you bring the horse over. The journey back to Rudy’s house is slow and quiet, your arms wrapped nicely around his waist. 

Eventually, you arrive at Rudy’s home. Alejandro unmounts and helps you down. You talk to Ximena while Alejandro and Rudy take the horse back to the stable. Alejandro barely listens to Rudy, instead thinking about you. He comes back, you say your goodbyes and get into Alejandro’s truck. Alejandro stays quiet on the drive back, listening to you talk about a movie you’re going to watch next weekend with Ximena and a few of your other coworkers. 

“I had a lot of fun today, Ale” you say as you both walk into the house. 

“So did I,” he replies. 

The both of you take off your boots in the entryway and hang your hats on the hooks. Alejandro tries to think of something else to say, awkwardly fixing his boots by the door. 

“I’ll–uh, see you tomorrow morning. Good night.” You press your lips on his cheek, turn and walk towards the hall. 

Alejandro watches you walk away, the tight jeans you wear molding perfectly to your ass and thighs. He’s been forcing down his attraction to you, not allowing himself to think about you when he’s in the shower or alone in his bed. He’s always jerked off, more as a stress relief than actual pleasure. It only takes him a few minutes in the shower and he’s done. Even before you came to live with him, you’d invade his mind with that pretty smile and the body he loves so much.

But before, he was strong enough to push those images out of his head. Now? He’s not as strong. You excite him the most in the mornings with your puffy lips and half-lidded eyes, marks on your face from the pillow. You sit on the couch, wrapped in his blankets and smelling like soft linen. The desire overpowered the guilt and now he can’t go a single day without thinking about you while he fucks his hand. 

Alejandro realizes he’s been standing in the same spot for a while now, only jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of the shower running in your room. He walks around the house to double check the windows and doors are all locked. The shower turns off in your room and he thinks about knocking on your door, just to see if you’ll still be wet from the water. He keeps walking to his room instead. 

He lies awake in his bed an hour later. His own shower did nothing to relax him. Alejandro keeps replaying over and over again the times where you two have almost kissed. Before he can remind himself how bad of an idea it is to kiss you, he hears the door to your room open. He thinks you walk towards the living room or kitchen, but by now you’re too far for him to hear your footsteps. 

Minutes later you still haven’t come back and curiosity gets the better of him. He checks the living room first but doesn’t find you there. He hears the whistle of the kettle and walks to the kitchen to see you turn off the stove and pour water into a cup. 

Without turning around to face him you ask, “do you want some tea?” 

The words are stuck in his throat at the slip of cloth he assumes are pajamas. A silk robe hangs off your shoulders, giving him a view of the thin straps to your babydoll nightgown. You turn to look at him with a confused expression since he hasn’t answered your question. Once you see the hungry look in his eyes, you move slightly to the side to press against the cool counter. Alejandro walks slowly to you, his eyes raking from the tips of your pink slippers up to your wide eyes. 

His fingers slide up your arm and tug the strap of the nightgown. He continues, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly from your heavy breathing. Alejandro tugs lightly on the butterfly pendant and elicits a gasp from your mouth. 

“What—what are we doing—“ you stutter. 

“Can I kiss you, nena?” Alejandro whispers. 

You look up at him, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Yes, please.” 

Alejandro doesn’t need any more encouragement, immediately sliding his hand to cup the back of your head and bring your lips to his. Everything about you is soft. Your lips, the breathy moans, your flowery scent. You're a little shy at first, giving him only light presses of your lips and swiping the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. Your hands travel up to grip his thick hair and you become more emboldened. Alejandro groans into your mouth, feeling you suck on his bottom lip. 

He presses his tongue on your bottom lip, managing to swipe the tip of your tongue. You let out a squeak and open your mouth more, pressing your tongue on his. Alejandro’s hands slide down your waist to cup your ass and bring you right into his hard bulge. Pressing your back into the counter, he lifts your thigh to wrap it around your waist and grind his erection on your pussy. You moan and bite his lower lip from the stimulation. His hand travels up your thigh but he finds no panties. The only thing separating you two is his linen pajama pants. 

He brings his hand to your front, touching your inner thigh and feeling the sticky wetness coating the skin. Alejandro pulls back from the kiss,” Is this okay? Do you want to keep going?” 

Your eyes are glassy and wild. You nod but he shakes his head, ”words, nena. Please.” 

“Yes, Ale. Please, please don’t stop.” you plead. 

“Not here, not in the kitchen. Come on.” 

He turns to make sure the stove is turned off and grabs your hand to lead you out of the kitchen. In less than a minute you're lightly thrown on his bed. You sit up, taking off the robe and reaching for the end of your nightgown. You pull it over your head and throw it to the side with your discarded robe and slippers. 

“Mi nena, hermosa,” he says. [beautiful]  

Even in the moonlight, Alejandro can see your pretty tits and soft thighs. He quickly pulls down his pajama bottoms, smirking the moment your eyes widen when you take in his size. 

“Wait, Ale. I–I don’t know if that’ll fit–” 

“Don’t worry nena, it will.” 

Alejandro climbs on the bed and covers your body with his. He presses his lips on yours again, using one hand to slide over your chest and pinch your nipples. You press your chest up in his hand and bring up your thigh to wrap around his waist. He stops you from grinding into his hard cock, knowing if he feels the wet heat he’ll finish before you two have even started. Alejandro breaks the kiss and immediately attacks your neck with kisses and bites. You begin to giggle which confuses him. 

“Your beard is scratching–ooohh–” 

He shuts you up by dragging his tongue up your throat. You once again try to grind up but he slaps your inner thigh and mutters a stern no, compórtarte. [behave]

He moves further down, sucking and pinching your nipples until they’re swollen and wet with his saliva. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, tilting his head to slightly stretch your nipple, then releases it with a pop. You arch your back and whine at the sensation. 

“You like that?” 

“Yeah, Ale–fuck–”

He does it to the other nipple, biting a little harder than necessary once he feels the sting of your nails in his scalp. You pull and grip at his hair while he covers your chest in kisses. Alejandro bites and drags his teeth on the soft skin of your belly until he reaches your mound. Using his big hands, he spreads open your thighs. His mouth waters at the sight. Slick wetness covers your puffy pussy lips. Your clit looks swollen and begging for his tongue. 

Alejandro runs his index finger from your inner thigh, collecting the wetness. “Eres tan hermosa,” he whispers. [You are so beautiful]

He uses his broad shoulders to keep your spread open. Using two fingers, Alejandro spreads your folds and presses the tip of his tongue to your drooling hole. The sweet taste invades his tongue and he can’t help but moan into your cunt. He latches his mouth to you, shoving his tongue inside of your warm entrance. You pull at his hair, the slight sting on his scalp only encouraging him more. 

“Ale, just like that–oh, fuck,” you chant. 

Alejandro drags his tongue to your neglected clit, flicking it with hard strokes. Your hips twitch and grind on his face. He slips a finger into your entrance, marveling at how warm and slick you are. He grinds his cock on the edge of the bed, imagining how it will feel wrapped around him. He feasts like a man starved, sucking at your swollen clit then dragging his tongue through your folds and back down to your little hole. Your scent and taste is in his mouth, on his beard, on his skin. 

He adds another finger, memorizing every ridge of your cunt with the pads of his finger. He bumps his fingers on your g-spot, making you squeak and arch your back. Alejandro does it again, this time using the pads of his fingers to massage the spongy spot. You twist your hips and moan right there, right there, right there. Alejandro happily listens, fucking his fingers faster into you, making sure to bump that spot. You tighten and flutter around his fingers and he knows you're close.

“Are you going to come for me, nena?” 

“I’m so clo–close, Ale–please” 

With broad strokes of his tongue, he flicks your button over and over and over again. It doesn’t take long for you to scream his name and unravel underneath his mouth. His sucks and sucks your clit and fucks your spasming hole with his thick fingers. Your body shakes and you wrap your thighs around his head. He lets you, ready to die a happy man if you suffocate and drown him in your sweet, sticky mess. 

Your thighs open limply and you push his head away,” No, no mo-more.” 

Alejandro stops, pressing a kiss to your thigh and covering your body with his. Your head is pressed on the pillows, eyes closed. He grips your jaw and forces your mouth open. You open your eyes and stick out your tongue, moaning when he pushes his wet fingers into your mouth. You close your mouth and suck his fingers clean, pulses of heat shooting directly to his hard cock. 

Once he’s satisfied, Alejandro removes his fingers and wipes your saliva on his dick. He grips and pumps his cock with his hand to alleviate some of the pressure. You prop yourself up on an elbow and reach a hand to stroke him. He throws his head back with a husky sigh and lets you touch him with soft fingers. You grip him, barely able to wrap your hand all the way around. 

“You’re so, you’re so velvety,” you whisper. 

It’s Alejandro’s turn to chuckle this time, finding your comment funny. 

“No more playing, let me fuck you.” He responds. 

You quickly nod and let go, letting him place your ankle on his shoulder and spread out your other thigh. He grips himself again and notches the head of his cock to your messy entrance. Alejandro presses in slowly, letting you adjust to his size. As his thick head plunges into you, he grabs your hand and squeezes. You shut your eyes and press your face into the pillow, squeezing his hand back. Alejandro slaps your inner thigh, drawing out a whine from your mouth. 

“No me quites los ojos de encima.” [Keep your eyes on me] 

With your attention back on him, you whimper, “yes, Ale.” 

He fucks you with his tip, slow and methodical. Alejandro pulls out and sees your slick cover his mushroom head. You whimper at the loss, twisting your hips to try to fuck yourself onto him.

“You want more, nena? Think you can take it all?” 

“I can, Ale! I promise.” 

Alejandro plunges in with a single thrust, sheathing his cock in your pulsing heat. He turns his head and bites the skin at your ankle, overcome by the pleasure. You squeeze his hand and use your other to pinch your nipples. Not waiting for him to continue, you begin moving your hips in tiny circles. Shocks of heat start at the base of his spine and Alejandro does his best to force down his orgasm, not ready to come yet. 

He watches you pull and tug at your nipples while you twitch on his cock. With his breathing under control, Alejandro slides out and plunges back in. He reaches the end of you, each bump and ridge of your pussy massaging his length. 

“Dios, that’s–that’s perfect.” He groans. 

He finds a nice rhythm, one that has you bouncing back into him. You let go of his hand and bring it up to your face, sucking his index finger into your mouth. The look on your face his him fucking you faster. You look up at him with scrunched eyebrows and wet eyes. He sees tears pool into the corners of your eyes from the pleasure. His otherwise quiet room is filled with groans and the wet slap of his hips. 

“Perfect—little—pussy,” he growls while pounding into you. 

Alejandro pulls his index finger out of your mouth and switches it with his thumb. He looks down to see your joined bodies and finds your slick covering the short hair at his base. He watches the plunge of his cock into your cunt, wondering how he survived for so long without you. He can only hope you let him do this over and over and over again. 

Alejandro doesn’t think he can let you go back to your own life after this night. No, we belong together. He pops out his thumb from your mouth and brings it to your clit, his orgasm quickly approaching. You grind your hips and scratch at any of his skin you can reach. Ale, I’m so close. Ale, I’m so close. The words I love you are on the tip of his tongue but before he can say anything, you grip his cock tight with your warm heat and come apart. 

He moves your leg off his shoulder and quickly wraps it around his waist, leaning down to swallow your moans. You bite and whimper into his mouth while gripping his hair. He keeps pounding into you, slamming his hips until his own orgasm overtakes him. He fills you up with his seed, painting and marking your cunt as his. Alejandro keeps going until his knees give out and his cock begs him to stop from the overstimulation. 

He falls halfway on top of you, making sure not to smother you with his full weight. You stay quiet with eyes closed for a few minutes and only move to link your hand in his. His breathing returns to normal and he moves his head to look at you. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each breath you take. On shaky legs, he stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll be back. Stay here, okay?” 

You open one eye slightly and smile at him. “Okay.” 

He uses his discarded pants to wipe his slick cock then walks back to the kitchen for a glass of water. He drinks a glass himself, and when he’s done he refills the same glass for you. He comes back to his room to see you sitting yourself up. Alejandro has you sit and drink the entire glass of water, going as far as to hold the glass while you drink. Once done, he walks into his bathroom and wets a washcloth. You try to clean yourself up, but Alejandro gives you a stern look and has you lie down while he runs to cloth over your swollen pussy. 

“Will you sleep here with me?” He asks once he’s thrown his pajama pants and washcloth in the clothes hamper. 

You give him a sweet smile, “yes.”

- - - 

Sunday morning comes and even though he fell asleep way past midnight, his internal clock wakes him up before the sun rises. You’re asleep, one leg thrown over his waist and your head on his chest. He runs his fingers down your back and up your shoulders. Alejandro takes a moment to think about what happened. He can’t, won’t, and simply doesn’t want to go back to how things were before. Maybe he won’t tell you he loves you yet, but he will soon. Alejandro has tried to ignore his feelings about this relationship. And while technically it might be fake, to him it seems very real. 

You stir in his arms, lifting your head up to press a kiss on his jaw. “Morning, cowboy.” 

“Shh,” he responds, ”go back to sleep, nena.” 

You drag your body up more and press a kiss to his mouth. He lets you, immediately engulfed in your warm scent. You lean back and move your head to look out the window. It’s almost sunrise, the dark purple sky beginning to turn red. 

“Will you go to the couch with me?” 

Never one to miss a sunrise, you and him sit on the couch wrapped in a blanket. You sit in his lap, facing him while bouncing lightly on his cock. Alejandro leans on the arm rest and grips your hips while you grind down. He tried to stop you, thinking you must be aching from the night before. But you begged him with your pretty eyes and told him you would go slow. The sun rises in the background while you come in his lap, Alejandro sucking your nipples and immediately filling you up with his own spend. 

You two nap for a while on the sofa, his cock resting deep in your cunt. Alejandro eventually drags you to the shower where he washes and pets every inch of your body. He makes you breakfast and has you sit at the dining table until he’s done. Wearing nothing but your robe, you sit on his lap and let him feed you. Your dripping pussy wets the front of his pajama pants but he forces you to take another nap on the couch. 

Alejandro wakes you up an hour later, lapping at your perfect cunt and bringing you to another orgasm. He fucks you full of more come then drags you back to his bed for the rest of the afternoon. You kiss and lick into each other’s mouth for who knows how long. The TV plays movie after movie in the background. 

Alejandro only stops once he hears your stomach grumble. He once again has you sit and do nothing as he prepares dinner. His mouth is swollen and his cock aches from his many orgasms, but he wishes he had another day alone with you. With Monday approaching soon, he’s not ready to go back to reality. You two haven’t even talked about what this means for your relationship. 

But he can’t miss work and he shouldn't really have taken this weekend off to begin with. He doesn’t regret taking these two days off, but León is still on the loose in Las Almas. He sits you down in his lap and feeds you with his fingers. Once you’ve both showered again and brushed your teeth, Alejandro leads you to his bed. You sleep in his arms again, your lips swollen from his kisses. 

- - - 

Reader’s P.O.V. 

Alejandro fucks you again in the morning. He fills you up with his warm release once you’ve come on his thick cock. We’ll talk later, okay? he says while tucking you underneath his covers. 

You get ready for work with a silly smile on your face, in shock that a single night and day could change so much between you two. Your pussy aches deliciously, and you know you’ll have to take a break from sex for a few days. But you regret none of it. You’re not sure what happens now, but there’s a shift between the two of you. You’re certain Alejandro feels the same way. 

You’re in such a good mood that you decide to treat your coworkers to coffee and pastries from the local cafe. Walking out of the boutique, you look for your escolta, also wanting to buy him something and have him walk with you. He’ll usually wait across the small street in the benches or on the other side of the boutique, but you don’t see him anywhere. Thinking that maybe he’s patrolling a different area, you decide to walk to the cafe. 

Alejandro told you to never leave without his soldier following you, but with it being broad daylight, you don’t think you have to worry. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you smile once you see its a text from Alejandro. 

Ale: Hi, mi nena. I’m going to be home late. Sleep in my bed tonight so we can wake up together, please. We’ll talk tomorrow after work. 

11:38 A.M. 

You: hi my cowboy 🤠😋

okay i will! please be safe 💗 i want to see you concussion-free in the morning  

11:39 A.M. 

You turn the corner, smiling at your phone. Maybe it's because you’re distracted by the little bubble that shows Alejandro is typing, or maybe it’s because he’s quick and quiet that you don’t notice León coming up behind you. Before you can react, he wraps a chloroform covered rag to your face. You struggle and hold your breath as much as you can, moving your foot back to stomp on his foot and elbow him in the stomach. Your phone falls to the ground and you manage to escape his hold, immediately running back to the boutique. 

“Help, help me—“ you scream. 

He’s much faster than you, immediately tackling you to the ground. The force of the fall bounces your head on the pavement and it instantly knocks you out cold. In just a few seconds, he throws you in the trunk of his car and drives off. The owner of the cafe and an employee from the corner store run out as they hear the screams. They don’t see anything, only finding your broken phone on the ground. 

-

part 1 | part 3 [epilogue] main masterlist

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali #mqu

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Pretty Little Letter’s

Dbf Negan Smith x Fem Reader

Synopsis - After finishing college you decide to on a gap year to take a breather after many years of hard work. Setting out to travel the country, you promise to write to your dad every week, what happens when his best friend Negan makes you promise to write to him too.

Warnings- No apocalypse AU, dads best friend, large age gap, feelings, love confessions, adventures, reader travelling, reader described as female, mentions of cheating, Negan is the one cheated on in this fic by ex wife, struggles with feelings, I took the John Winchester idea and made Negan a mechanic, obviously not canon at all, vague mentions of sex, but no actual smut in this chapter. There will be in later chapters though so 18+ only please.

Let me know if I’ve left anything out

Word count - 6.6K (sorry it’s a long one)

This is part one of two chapters in this mini series.

_______________________________________

Tomorrow was the day, the day you’ve been waiting for, the day you were leaving for an adventure. After 4 years of hard work and dedication, you had graduated Yale University with honours. You’d surpassed anything you felt you could accomplish, with the amazing support of your dad, who had raised you single-handedly. He has supported you throughout your life from scrapped knees and boo boos as a child, to finishing school with the grades you needed to get into Yale.

It was a dream you’d always had, even as a child. You’d pinned up pictures of the college on your wall, telling your dad ‘one day I’ll be here!’ When you received the letter you’d ripped it open with such ferocity, your dad was sure you’d shred your hands. Only to crumple to the floor in floods of tears, walking towards you he settles next to you pulling you in for a big hug, “Hey don’t worry baby girl, it’s not the end of the world we still have other letters coming, other options. No matter what I’m soo proud of you my darling girl” he cooed. You shook your head no, trying to steady your breath “No d…..ad” you stuttered “We did it, I got in, I did it dad! I got in” you continued through staggered breaths, he reached over and pulled it from your grasp reading the words carefully, his hand clamped over his mouth in shock. He started crying too, pulling you in tighter, letting his tears fall freely.

Being the amazing father he was, hours later he was on the phone with his oldest and closest friend Negan, explaining you’d got in, you’d done it, and if Negan could look for a house up there for you both, Negan lived in a small town in Connecticut not too far from Yale. He’d instantly agreed, finding you a lovely 3 bedroom home only a street away from himself. Your dad had been there behind you every step of your life, and he wasn’t about to let this one be any different.

So you packed up your life, making the lengthy trip from Virgina to Connecticut.

The experience has been amazing, you’ve loved every second of college. You came home every night excitedly animating your days to your dad, and many days to Negan too. He would be over often for dinners, you guys also going over his frequently too, the three of you spent many evenings together BBQs, football games, board game nights, you name it. You’d spent a lot of the last 4 years with Negan, he was a great friend to your dad. They’d kept in contact when he had moved from Virgina with his wife, because she wanted to be able to commute to New York easily. She took to the big corporate job like a fish to water, but she began coming home to Negan less and less, giving excuses about early starts and having to stay in some fancy hotel. Unfortunately one day when he made a trip to the city to surprise her, he’d found her rolling around the bed with her boss.

He called later that day to tell your dad what happened, your dad being the great person he is dropped everything and came up here to be with him, leaving you with your grandma for a few weeks.

After a lengthy divorce he’d stuck it out in the sleepy town, deciding he didn’t want to upheave his life once again. You hadn’t known Negan too well then, your dad called him often and you knew his voice, that deep rumbling voice, from their calls. You’d even answered the phone to him a few times, making polite small talk until your dad could take over. But he’d moved to Connecticut when you were only 2 years old, so you’d never really gotten to know him.

That all changed when you moved to start Yale, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t developed an enormous crush on the older man. Gods was he beautiful, he was funny sometimes making you actually cry from laughter. He was kind, loyal, owned his own mechanics garage, he was an all round great guy, and you had no idea why no one had snapped him up yet. Though secretly you were thankful no one had, because the mere thought stirred an ugly pit of jealousy in your stomach.

But tonight things were perfect, you were having a farewell dinner with the two men in your life, sat around the coffee table on your living room floor, eating pizza, heads thrown back in laughter as you whoop your dads ass at monopoly.

“Oh come on y/n not another hotel” your dad pleads playfully.

“I’m afraid so dad, told you the light blue were worth buying, the houses are cheap to buy, I can get as many as I want” you goad in giggles.

“She has you there man! I’d add another to Euston Road if I were you sweetheart! Finish him off” Negan jests.

“Don’t encourage her!” Your dad grumbles, causing you and Negan to roll in laughter even more.

“You know what I think I will” you reply adding another hotel.

Your dad takes his next roll landing on one of your hotel properties,

“Oh shit man! That’s you done isn’t it” Negan teases. Your dad stands then playfully tips the board over, making you gasp in mock shock before falling into giggles once again, in the moment you end up leaning your head against Negan’s shoulder.

“Right that’s it I’m done with this silly game, who wants another beer” your dad laughs.

“Me” you say, Negan nodding in unison his breath slightly shaken from your head still leaning against his shoulder, like it belongs there which in his mind it does. Man he’s dreading you leaving for a year, every time he thinks about it, there’s a constricting feeling in his heart. He brings his arm around you pulling you closer for a second, taking a moment to bask in your warmth. He gives you a quick squeeze, before moving to start packing away the game.

You watch him with a warm smile on your face, my goodness were you going to miss him. But you needed this, you needed to stand on your own two feet and experience some living. You also needed to get over this silly crush, he was 20 years older than you for Christ sake, he probably looked at you like a niece. He definitely wouldn’t return your affections, so you should go and clear your head. See some of the world, meet people and have experiences.

They always say you discover yourself while travelling alone.

You wanted to see if that was true.

But leaving these two behind would be hard, even if it wasn’t forever a year was still a long time. “So sweetheart your really leaving us tomorrow?” Negan asks, “Yup! Just like Bilbo Baggins I’m off on an adventure” you giggle, trying to make light it it, when in fact your heart is sinking at the thought. “Not gonna be the same without you here darlin’” he affirms, there’s a smile on his face but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and those beautiful dimples aren’t showing. For a second you wonder if he returns your feelings, but that wouldn’t make any sense so you push the idea out of your mind.

Your dad arrives back 3 beers in his hands, “I can’t believe my baby girl is going out into the world tomorrow, you promise to write to me every week yeah??” Your dad asks. “You know I can just text you? And call you right?” You answer, “Yeah you can call too, but I want hand written letters to have a part of you still coming home every week” he replies voice sounding emotional, this was a big step for him you had never been away from your dad before. Getting up you give him a big hug, “Ok dad I’ll write to you every week and I’ll send you postcards, so you can see where I’ve been!” You promise. “Yeah that sounds great baby girl” he affirms.

After your dad passes out snoring on the couch, you clean up the pizza boxes with Negan. While you’ve moved on to clearing up the kitchen he stands in the doorway watching you, “You know sweet cheeks, I’d love for some of those hand written letters too” he expresses. Looking up at him in shock, you ask “Really?”, “Yeah I want to hear everything your doing, plus it would be nice to have a part of you here with me too, like I said sweetheart it won’t be the same here without ya” he replies stepping closer, gently brushing a hair out of your face, hazel eyes bearing into you. “Ok Negan I’ll write to you too”, “Good” he sighs, leaning in he kisses your head wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Gonna miss ya kid”, “Yeah I’ll miss you too” you reply.

Letting him out the door you say your goodbyes, before tucking a blanket over your dad.

This was going to be hard……

_______________________________________

You’ve been travelling a week now, slowly making your way down south to Florida. You made sure to stop for a few nights at your grandmas, you loved spending time with her, just like your dad she was a sweet soul, and you’d really enjoyed some long chats and a homemade meal.

The last morning of your stay you popped by taking a look at the house you grew up in, you always wondered if your mother had ever stopped by to see you. Missing you because you’d moved away, would she be proud that you’d made it to Yale, probably not. She’s never cared enough to call, she upped and left the day after you were born. Just left you in the hospital, for your dad to find when he came back in after some rest at home. Leaving your dad to step into both parents roles, which he took on without complaint bringing you up in a home full of love and laughter, you were beyond blessed to have been given him as your dad.

With that you tucked those thoughts away, your dad and grandma love you, are proud of you and support you. You didn’t need anyone else, well except maybe Negan.

By the end of your first week you’d made it to the Croatan National Forest, in North Carolina. You decided to stop here and see the sights, maybe do some hiking, some swimming on the coast. You found a cute little beach rental you booked for a few nights, it looked out to the river which joined the ocean. It was peaceful here, kids had all gone back to school and the soft autumn breeze was setting a chill in the air. So the beach was practically empty, with the exception of a few dog walkers.

Dark skies started settling in, greys and blacks filling the vast space, the clouds looked as if they were rolling towards you. A storm was coming which emitted some excitement in you, to sit there and watch them was one of your most favourite things to do, especially if the lightning was close and you could see it crack across the sky.

Settling in the bay of the bedroom window, you looked out at the water, pulling out your notebook you got to writing your dad his first letter. Folding it up you sealed in in an envelope, adding your home address and a stamp. Then you began to write Negan’s,

Dear Negan,

I’ve made it to North Carolina, to the Croatan National Forest. I’m staying in a really cute little beach house, which was cheap due to the holidays being over. I’m currently sat watching a storm roll in, windows open enjoying the breeze.

I stopped to see Grandma on the way down, she sends her love to Dad and you. She still hasn’t changed bless her, I also stopped by my old neighbourhood to see the house. I didn't feel as sad seeing it as I thought I would. I think that’s because you’ve made our lives so much more incredible. I miss you both it’s odd being without Dad for the first time, but it’s also strange being without you too now. You’ve ingrained yourself into my life now and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I think I’ll take a swim tomorrow if the weather allows it, I may even swim in the rain if I can. So there you go, you can picture me dancing under the storm.

Yours truly

Y/N

Xx

You sealed the letter, writing his address and placing another stamp. Maybe you poured a bit of how you feel about him in there but it felt good to let some of it out, like it was healing a small part of you.

You ran down to the post box before the rain hit, dropping the letters in and running back to your temporary home. Closing the door just as the torrential downpour started. “Phew that was close” you giggle. That evening you sat in your window watching the storm, the bright lightning cracked above illuminating the beach. Rain pouring and winds blowing, while you stayed cozy eating your soup admiring natures fierce show.

When morning came around it was still raining, though the storm had passed. You threw on your bathing suit and braved the weather, running into the water with a loud gasp as the cool liquid surrounded you. You laid back watching the rain fall from the sky, in that moment you’d never felt so free.

_______________________________________

Back home Negan received his letter a few days later, he’d been checking his post box every single day, like a man deranged. ‘Finally’ he thought tearing open the envelope before he even made in back inside. Sitting down at his dining room table he read your words, smile adorning his features, dimples pulling deep. ‘Ingrained himself into your life, and you wouldn’t change it for the world’ for the first time he allowed himself to hope, that just maybe you returned his feelings.

Was this your way of telling him so? He didn’t know but he needed to find out, he’d have to play this safe though, edge it out of you slowly, god only knows what would happen if he assumed wrong, you’d tell your Dad no doubt, he’d loose you and his best friend in one go, he couldn’t risk that.

Pulling out his phone he sent you a message,

‘Hey sweetheart,

Thank you for my little letter, I hope you had fun swimming and dancing in the storm, though I also hope you stayed safe.

You’ve also ingrained yourself into my life angel face, came into it like a spitfire but I wouldn’t have it any other way either. Enjoy your next week, just make sure you stay safe.

Negan

Xxx

He sent the text, and waited under baited breath for a response. He almost jumped out of his chair when his phone pinged.

Hi Negan

Your welcome, I can assure you I am staying safe, I’m checking my oil and water levels too, as promised. Car is running smooth still :)

‘Spitfire’? I wouldn’t say that! But I’m glad you wouldn’t have it any other way because your stuck with me now.

I’ll send you your next letter same time this week, till then ……

Y/N

Xxx

He smiles to himself once more, you most certainly are a spitfire. But you’re also the best thing to ever come into his life, he hopes one day he’ll be able to tell you so.

_______________________________________

End of your second week, it’s rushed by so fast and you can’t believe your already in Jacksonville Florida. Today your sat on the beach it’s much warmer here, no sign of any autumn breeze and the sunny weather bringing many people to the beach. Your currently writing to your dad again while listening to the soft waves crashing onto the shore. Finishing his letter you once again start writing one to Negan,

Dear Negan,

What a week I’ve had! Can you believe I’m already in Florida? Today I’m sat on Jacksonville beach watching the waves crashing. It’s much busier here and much warmer, apparently there’s a swell coming in tomorrow so I may try surfing. I’ll be sure to send you both some hilarious pictures, of me falling on my face.

I’m staying two nights here in a hotel overlooking the beach, the buildings here on the coast are like mini skyscrapers. I think they may be too tall, it ruins the feel of the place. My next move may be Orlando Disney, I’ve always wanted to go! May even get made into a Disney princess! Because hey you only live once, which one should I go for?

I’m starting to really miss you both, how’s my dad coping? I hope my boys are looking after each other,

Well I’m going to go find somewhere for dinner, speak soon.

Y/N

Xxx

Getting up you brush the gritty sand off your legs, setting out on a mission to find somewhere to post these letters. After exploring a few busy streets, you see it, Bingo! You spot the blue metal of the US postal boxes, slotting in your letters before finding a diner to eat dinner in.

Back home 48 hours later Negan received your second letter, “my boys” he reads, the thought of being yours makes his cheeks flush, and his heart quicken. He feels like a teenage boy again at 52 years old, he’d be yours in a heartbeat if you’d ask him. But he knows it’s out of the question, your his best friends kid, and what would you want with an old man? Your so beautiful and he doesn’t feel he’s got much to offer you at this point of his life. Even so he will allow himself to enjoy these letters, living in a little daydream for a while.

After pacing his kitchen for a good ten minutes he decides he has to talk to you, the words “my boys” still swirling around his head. Giving in and pulling out his phone he sends you a text,

Hey sweetheart

I remember Jacksonville well, I visited about 15 years ago now. I went to a work conference there. Your right the buildings are too tall beside the ocean, definitely not one of my favourite beaches.

Surfing? How did that turn out I’m still waiting on this photo.

“Your boys hey” I like the sound of that darlin. But yeah I’m making sure your dad cooks for himself, and I fixed his lawn mower for him, so your gardens looking a lot better now!

Make sure you continue to stay safe sweetheart, I hope you enjoy Disney, but you don’t need to dress up to be a princess you’ve always been one.

Negan

Xx

Ping

His heart is beating rapidly in his chest as he opens your reply,

Hey Negan

Actually I did ok surfing, I managed to stand up and everything lol

Xx

Ping

He opens the slightly blurry image of you standing up on a large longboard, big smile on your face. You look so beautiful and so happy.

Ping

So as you can see, not a complete disaster! I went to Disney world yesterday, it was great fun but all in all too many people about. I’ve set off west now aiming in a general direction of New Orleans, as I’ve always wanted to go. I think it may take a week or two to get there though!

And don’t worry I will be careful I promise. You’ll always be my boys

Y/n

Xxx

He smiles to himself you were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Ok sweetheart

Look at you! You’re a natural! Well I’ll wait with bated breath until your next letter, I think you should send two a week I Think one a week is just too long to wait for sweet cheeks.

Negan

Xx

Ping

Ok Negan

Two it is, I’m off to bed now

Night

Y/N

Xx

He grins, two letters a week, he feels all important now. He wonders if your dad will also get two letters a week? Or if he really is special enough to be the only one.

_______________________________________

A few weeks pass in a blur, you keep your promise to Negan and write to him twice a week. Not only that you both text constantly and have started video calling frequently too. Your currently walking through the vibrant streets of New Orleans with your phone in hand, on video call to Negan as you show him the current festivities happening. “Look at the colours Negan! I’ve never seen anywhere so bright and colourful, and the musics been incredible.” You ramble off excitedly, “Yeah I can see that sweetheart, I wish I was with you right now it looks incredible” he replies.

“I wish you were with me too, it’s amazing! I’ll have to bring dad here at some point.” You gush,

“Yeah maybe we should all plan a trip” he replies and you nod along, “Yeah that sounds good!”

“So where are you off too next?” Negan asks, “Well I’ve booked to stay two weeks on this women only ranch just outside Austen Texas, so I’m going to enjoy a slower pace for a couple of weeks, I’ll get to go riding everyday and read books in the sun” you answered, “That sounds like a good plan sweetheart, you haven’t slowed down in weeks.” Negan hums, truth be told you were looking forward to slowing down for a bit, it’s been a full on couple of months, and as much as you’ve enjoyed it you’ve burnt yourself out a little.

Back at your hotel room you and Negan chat over video call for hours, you admire him as he throws his head back in laughter, while laying back on his couch. You're sat cross legged on your bed, window open so you can see and hear the ongoing festivities outside, the cheerful jazz music floating around your room.

“I can’t believe I’ve been away two months now, it’s gone so fast”, it hasn’t felt fast to Negan, it’s felt like every hour has dragged on without you home. Nights with your dad are much quieter, and your presence is constantly missed. “Yeah sweetheart” he agrees half heartedly, and you sense the change in his tone. “Everything ok?” You ask, voice laced with concern. “Of course darlin we just miss you is all” Negan admits.

“I miss you too you know, life on my own has definitely been quiet. It’s why I enjoy these video calls so much, it almost feels like your here, like it’s a normal Friday night Just without the beers and pizza” you laugh.

His heart warms at your confession, slowly over these weeks he’s noticed little things. The way you look at him, or the way your face lights up when you answer his calls, your letters have become sweeter too. He allows himself to truly hope, that maybe you return his feelings. He’s in half a mind to jump in the car and meet you on your travels, take you into his arms and lay it all out, tell you how he feels and hope you say you feel them too. But his mind always falls back to your Dad, his best friend of nearly 30 years. How would he take it, would he ever talk to him again? Would he forbid him ever seeing you again? It’s these thoughts that stop him ever taking anything further than flirty remarks, and terms of endearment, but god does he wish he could just take you in his arms, feel your skin against his own as he spends all night worshiping your body like the goddess you are.

“Negan…..Negan are you with me” your voice cuts through his daydreaming, “Yeah sorry sweetheart, must be getting tired it’s past this old man’s bedtime” he teases. You huff out a small giggle “You’re not old Negan” you reply. “I’m 52 darlin, I’m nearly at the end of middle aged” Negan groans, you shake your head in disagree “Nope I don’t agree”, “Well I’ll take that” Negan laughs, “We should get some sleep though, it’s like 1am! Night Negan”

“Night Beautiful”

As the call ends you sit there shocked, that’s new, he just called you beautiful! He’s never used that pet name before, usually it’s darlin or sweetheart. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. You fall asleep that night with the smile never leaving, listening to the distant hum of jazz.

_______________________________________

The ranch is beautiful, picturesque like a postcard. You feel like you’ve stepped into some country and western film, you’re currently sat under a large tree watching the horses gallop about the pens. There’s a few other women staying at the ranch with you, and you’ve enjoyed getting to know them. One is a lot older than the rest of you, her name’s Frances, she’s been cooking for you all and mothering everyone.

It’s been nice, you weren’t used to a motherly woman being in your life. You’ve told her so too, told her about your life and that your dad raised you alone. She’s been a great listener, she brought up her two sons and how she couldn’t understand a mother ever leaving her children, she could never. When she asked if there was anyone special in your life, you’d bitten your lip and done your best to redirect the conversation. After much convincing you’d told her there was a man who held your affections, but he was much older than you. So it wasn’t an easy situation, but she’d told you there’s no age restrictions on love, so long as both parties involved were adults and felt the same.

It lead you to hope, that maybe you and Negan could maybe one day be something. You were starting to also hope that maybe he felt the same way you did, he had called you beautiful after all.

Taking out a pen and paper you began writing your letter’s.

Dear Negan

This ranch is beautiful, even in the sweltering heat it’s like something out of an old movie, there’s other women here too so it’s been nice to get to know them and make some friends.

I’m currently watching this black horse run through the field, he’s almost ethereal the way he moves. He looks so free, no worries in the world, and I fell like I’m witnessing his wildest joys and deepest secrets.

There’s a lovely lady here called Frances, she’s been like the mother hen to everyone. I’ve had many chats with her, especially about mum. She couldn’t understand how she just left me, said she never could leave her children. I do wonder if she ever thinks about me at all? Maybe she does, or maybe she just moved on with her life and never looked back.

I talked about you too, how important you are in my life too. I’ve been thinking a lot recently. Anyways I’ll send another letter soon.

With Love

Y/N

Xxx

After sealing the letter you wondered if you should send it, had you made things too obvious? Maybe you needed too to see if there was something there? With a deep breath you dropped it in the postal box, placing it to the back of your mind for now, before joining the rest of the girls for the activities for the day.

_______________________________________

Just two days later Negan received your letter, reading the words he felt incredibly sad. You were hurting he could tell, he doesn’t understand how your mother left you either, she’d never know how incredible the girl she brought into the world turned out to be.

Because you were, you’re incredible. So kind, loyal, brave with a determination he’s never witnessed before, and you were so beautiful beyond compare. So yeah she was the one who had missed out, missed watching that baby girl become the most amazing woman. Something himself and your Dad had never taken for granted, even only really getting to know you these last four years, he’s seen you change and thrive becoming the amazing person you are today.

He’s glad you’re making friends along the way though, he was worried you were starting to get a bit lonely being alone for so long. Still the thought of coming to the ranch himself and holding you in his arms was so compelling right now, you were sad and he felt such a great need to make you smile, or hold you as you cried. You deserve the world, he hopes he can show you that someday.

His heart lurches at the thought of you talking about him, and thinking about him? Thinking how? Is that a confession? Or just you missing home? He would call you later, see what he can coax out of you.

You were sat on the porch watching the sunset, the sunsets down south were the most beautiful you’d ever seen, the oranges and yellows shine over the whole landscape, painting the buildings and your skin in a warm orange glow. As you were admiring the skies your phone started buzzing, removing it from your jeans pocket you smile seeing Negan's name flash up.

“Hey Negan, how are you? Sorry it’s been a little while since we’ve called, I’ve noticed only certain areas get signal” you explain as you answer the video call.

Smiling at you “That’s ok sweetheart, I understand, you’re out in the sticks no one gets phone signal there. How are you doing darlin? I got your letter today and I thought I’d call you”

“Yeah I’m ok, I felt sad for a little while thinking about mum, but I’ve realised how lucky I am to have the people I do in my life. I have people who love me and some people don’t have that.” You admit.

“It’s ok to feel sad though sweetheart, what she did to you wasn’t right and it’s ok to be hurt by that, but yeah you are loved, sometimes I don’t think you know how much your loved sweet girl, your dad, your grandma, myself, we adore you, you’re not alone not ever and I hope you know that.” Negan assures.

Tears well up in your eyes, you swallow a large gulp before answering him “Thanks Negan I needed to hear that” you admit.

“Anytime baby girl”

A small creak behind alerts you of someone’s presence, “Sorry love I just came to tell you dinners ready, if you’d like to join us” Frances explains.

“Oh yeah please, I’ll just be a moment” you answer, she nods walking back into the barn.

“Well it looks like I have dinner to attend” you laugh, “Ok beautiful, enjoy your dinner I’ll speak to you soon” “Yeah speak soon” you smile, hanging up the phone you stand up and dust yourself off before heading inside.

Frances meets you at the doors with a knowing smile, “Was that him?” She asks, blushing you look downwards, “Yeah that’s him” you admit. She nods before saying “Marry that man girl, if he looks at you like that, and speaks to you like that, you’d be a fool not too”. You gasp “How much did you hear?” She gives a gentle laugh, “Enough. Now come on in and eat” she guides you inside, but your whole stomachs fluttering now, and you don’t know how much you will actually be able to eat.

_______________________________________

It was the morning you were leaving the ranch, you felt sad to be going. It had been such a positive experience being here with these women, you’d made some friends and you have exchanged numbers with Frances, who would love to stay in contact. Hugging everyone goodbye you waved your last farewell as you entered your car, today you’d be starting your trip to Los Angeles. Although you didn’t think you’d want to visit Hollywood, you had mapped out some lovely vineyards and beaches.

Starting the engine you made your way off the ranch and onto your next adventure. Driving down the highway you turned you music up, opening the windows letting the wind whip at your hair, singing along to your favourite song. Determined to enjoy every aspect of your road-trip, including the tedious highways.

You made it as far as the Texas/ New Mexico boarder before pulling into a motel for the night. Once you were settled in your room you pulled your phone out and called your dad, “Hey baby girl! Long time no speak, where have you been! Only one letter in two weeks and no phone calls! I’ve been worried!” Your dad stresses.

“I’m so sorry Dad the ranch had nearly no signal, Negan managed to call once while I was there, I think I found a fluke spot that evening, because I couldn’t get through to either of you again” you explain.

“That’s alright honey, I just worry, you know I do! How have you been? I didn’t know you spoke to Negan, do you call each other often?” He asks, and you can tell the confusion in his tone.

“Umm yeah we talk a couple of times a week I guess, same as you and I talk. I think he likes to know what I’m up too. I’m good yeah thanks dad been super busy though, but yeah I’m having a great time, how have you been doing?” You answer.

“Yeah no complaints here, I miss you though. House is too quiet without you kiddo, and it’s ok I just didn’t know the two of you were talking, he’s never said anything to me. Other then the fact you send him the occasional letter too” your dad explains.

“Yeah I write to you both, as per requested” you laugh before adding “I hope your looking after yourself though dad, and actually cooking? Not ordering take out every night. I do worry about you both when I’m not there, you don’t have the best eating habits” you giggle.

“Hey we are doing just fine! I did a BBQ the other day we even had salad!” You dad defends.

Laughing out loud now you reply “Oh some salad too! Well I don’t know why I was worrying then”

“Oi little miss, I do just fine! I managed to cook for you ok growing up!” He argues playfully.

“Yeah I know dad I know, I’m just teasing, well I’m glad you doing good, I’m going to head to bed it’s been a long day, lots of driving” you admit.

“Ok kiddo sleep tight”

“Will do night dad”

Ending the call you lay back on the bed and sigh, your dad seemed so confused about you talking to Negan, you hope you didn’t give your feelings about the man away? Nah he was probably just surprised. It will be fine, you think.

After getting ready for bed your phone starts buzzing again, you glance at it sat on the bedside table. ‘Video call from Negan’ grinning you answer the call “Hey!”, “Hey beautiful, how is your journey going?” You admire him for a second, dimples showing as he grins through the phone at you, why does he have to be so beautiful, “Yeah it’s going well I’m on the Texas/ New Mexico boarder, in a small town called Eunice I think. I’m in a small motel, I’ll be carrying on towards Los Angeles in the morning” you answer.

He’s walking about his kitchen, tidying up and nodding as you speak. You love the domestic feel to it, you wish you were there with him, just doing ordinary household chores. “That’s good! You’re making great time sweetheart. And at least now you have signal” he laughs, “Yeah there’s great service here, so what have you been up too?” You ask, “Not much darlin, just work. Some poor guy came in last week with a blown head gasket, it’s taking a lot of time to fix it. So I’ve been at the garage long hours this week. Other than that not a lot, Bill is trying to set me up on some date with his wife’s friend, but I’m not too sure” he admits.

Your stomach sinks at that, a date, no don’t go on a date you think, especially not when I’m thousands of miles across the country and can’t do anything to help stop it. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you try to keep yourself together. “Yeah?” You ask, voice sounding way more strained than you hoped. “Yeah, you ok sweetheart?” He asks looking at you full of concern. “Yeah I need to umm go get some sleep it’s late and I’m exhausted” you blurt out in haste.

“Yeah ok darlin, goodnight”, “Night” you answer before quickly hanging up. Tears sting your eyes as you lay back on the bed, harshly rubbing the tears away you sit up, sod this I’m going for a drink, you determine. Pulling some jeans and a jacket on, you cross over the road to the local bar.

Entering the building the smell of stale beer and smoke hits you, wrinkling your nose in slight disgust you sit at the bar, “A beer please” you ask the bartender, who nods at you placing a bottle in front of you.

Across the country Negan can’t get your reaction out of his head. He was thinking maybe the date would be a good way to move on. Because you probably didn’t feel the same as him, he was delusional right? Thinking he saw signs that you wanted him. But you went from cheerful to distressed in seconds, now he doesn’t know, he could always ask you, he knows this. But he also knows he couldn’t deal with rejection, not from you. He sits down on his couch placing his head in his hands as he tries to make sense of it all.

You on the other hand have just stumbled back into your room after a few drinks, and you feel in your drunken state that your heads so much clearer. With the new found confidence the alcohol has given you, you pull out your phone and send Negan a text before passing out on your bed.

Don’t go on that date Negan, please don’t …I love you

The buzzing of his phone he’s pulled out of his thoughts, reading your message he’s sat in shock. You love him? Gods you love him! That’s it he needs to see you. Jumping up he rushes to pack a bag, throwing as much as he can fit in the duffle. Moving to grab his keys, phone, charger and passport. A flight to you will be the quickest way!

Leaving the house he sends you a message back,

Don’t go anywhere sweetheart, I’m on my way! Xx

#negan smith #Dbf Negan #negan x reader #twd negan #negan x you #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x female reader #dads best friend #Dbf x reader

[lazyjellyfish300]

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 5 🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader

Synopsis: You're on the show: Singles in Paradise. Former Bachelor!Miguel has some heavy news to break to you about your new relationship with Peter B., along with contending with his lingering feelings for you. He's racing against the clock as the rose ceremony is about to commence that night, and all of the drama is approaching a boiling point. Word count 6.4k

A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.

Part 1(contains links to previous parts)

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, DRAMA, DRUNKENNESS ,MISCOMMUNICATION, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CHEATING, BULLYING(NAME CALLING, TRASH TALKING BEHIND BACKS), FIGHTING(PUNCHING, SPIT IN FACE, CAT FIGHT) MILD VIOLENCE, BLOOD, MENTION OF ORAL SEX BUT NO SMUT, MENTION OF DADDY ISSUES

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

You and Felicia were at least 3 strawberry daiquiris deep, and they were working their tasty magic. You both were giggling loudly, slapping each other's thighs, trying to hold each other up on the couch you were lounging on in the common area when an unwelcome visitor made his way into the room.

"Well look who it is!" Felicia says in a goofy voice, making you nearly spit out your drink.

"PPPFFFFT", You let out a mixture of a guffaw and cough as she pounds your back with her palm in a drunken effort to help you regain composure.

Miguel's face softens a little bit at the sight of you two enjoying yourselves. Thank God for the cocktails otherwise you wouldn't have even let him be in the same room as you.

You look at Miguel with teary eyes. "Whaddup big guy? What, what can I do you for, on this....the night of the grand rose ceremony?" You channel your inner Godfather as you slur your words, which makes Felicia nearly choke on her drink this time.

Miguel shakes his head. "We need to talk."

"Ahhhh...." you say, shaking your head back at him, tutting your teeth. "Too late, Muscles. Can I call you Muscles?"

Miguel rubs the back of his neck and tries to stifle a sigh. "Sure, that's fine. Now can we go talk?"

"Whoa, whoa." You bring a finger to his lips, silencing him and he lets out a defeated sigh. "I won't leave here with just anyone. I'm in a relationship."

Miguel gently reaches down, removing your hand from his face in a delicate yet firm grip, "Yes, I'm aware..."

At that point you almost fall off the couch. Felicia's laughing too hard and trying not to pee in the fetal position to help. Miguel catches you, helping you up with both of his forearms underneath your armpits. You catch a whiff of his scent as you fall back against his chest, making you a little delirious.

"Be more careful..." Miguel murmurs to you. "Here." He plops you on an empty chair, his hands gentle as they run up your calves and remove your tall wedge sandals and takes them in his hand, offering you the other. Your heart skips a beat at his touch but you attempt to conceal it with an eyeroll as you let him help you stand up.

"Be right back girl!" You call to Felicia, who raises her cocktail glass to you.

"Mkayyyy!"

The beachy evening breeze of the nighttime hits your face a little bit, making you close your eyes and sigh. Despite all the drama that had been plaguing you as of late, it sure felt good to be in such a gorgeous place as this.

Miguel's walking silently next to you, his mind agonizing over the distressing news he needs to break to you but stops and stands next to you, his shoulders relaxing at little at your content disposition, how endearing it is to watch you wiggle your toes in the sand. A smile on your face for once instead of tears.

After several moments, your eyes flutter open and you go to take a step forward, however your abrupt movement doesn't mix well with the liquor still running in your veins and you trip a little, Miguel catching you once again.

"Alright, that's it..." Miguel sighs and sweeps you into a bridal style carry, effortlessly cradling you in those beefy arms of his as he walks you further down the beach.

You look at him with heavy eyelids, an expression of amusement and impression with his strength on your face. "Well damn, I knew you were strong, Muscles, but I wasn't expecting that," You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Just how many shots were in those daiquiris? Miguel wonders as he continues to saunter forwards with you in his arms, trying not to focus on the growing heat in his face as you nuzzle a little closer into his chest.

Once you come closer to an unoccupied daybed near the pool, you give him a little tap on his arm to signal you want to be put down. He sets you carefully on the cushions and plops down next to you in silence, pressing his fingertips together in concentration as he looks at his feet, trying to form his words.

You look lazily at the changing underwater lights in the pool, as it hypnotically changes the water from green, to blue, purple, pink, and red, tropical winds gently brushing the palm trees and the distant sound of rushing waves coming from the beach down below.

Miguel finally speaks, his tone serious. "I don't want to do this, but there's something important you should know before the rose ceremony."

You blow air out of your cheeks, the liquor still had a hold on you but you were starting to get annoyed by this unwelcome interruption by this...guy. Whoever he was, he was majorly cramping your style and killing the good mood you were in.

"Look mister, if you're trying to get a rose and not go home, you're a little late for that," you say with a yawn, standing up.

Miguel stands up too, saying your name in a stern voice then cursing and turning around with his hands on his head muttering to himself. "She's way too drunk for this...okay."

He turns back around facing you, starting over from scratch again. "I'm not trying to get a rose from you." He says, looking into your eyes. "I'm not expecting anything from you tonight. You made it very clear earlier that you were upset with me, which I don't blame you for... even though someone completely got it wrong and told you before I could explain myself..."

You let out a loud groan, clasping your temples with your fingertips. "Give me the condensed version, Muscles, please. You're giving me a migraine."

Miguel exhales quickly with a small scoff then shakes his head. "Okay, okay..." He makes a small sigh of displeasure and continues, slowly as if he were approaching a sea of eggshells.

"I...just need to get this off my chest and tell you the truth so you don't make the wrong choice tonight, that's all." His hands move to the surrender position and you tilt your head.

"What do you mean?"

Miguel exhales slowly as the camera zooms in on his face, his heart pounding so tremendously against his ribs it was a wonder how the sound didn't leak through the microphone he was wearing.

"After you and Felicia left, Peter B., Dana, Ben, and I were at the bonfire. They were all drinking. I got up, and went to the bathroom and was walking down the main path back to the fire pit. You know where I'm talking about right?"

You nod, going to fiddle with a loose thread on your dress, a slight anxious twinge in your belly that sets your heartbeat on a gradual acceleration. Where is this going?

"Anyway, I saw Peter B. and Dana in the bushes tonight...they were together."

You blink.

Miguel looks at you with the same blank expression, but he's in disbelief at your lack of reaction.

"He was going down on her... he's playing you behind your back." He waits, his eyes searching yours, hoping you got the message, on the edge of his seat.

Your eyes flicker up and look back into his. "And I should believe you...why?"

Miguel's face turns red with emotion, taking a step closer to you. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

His tone is quiet, but it's laced with frustration. "Look, you have to make this call on your own but I'm telling you right now. I saw him with her, he's cheating on you. He's not the guy you think he is and frankly, giving him a rose tonight would be the biggest mistake of your life."

"Miguel..." you whisper closing your eyes.

Miguel exhales, the alcohol released its hold on you a little. "There, see...you do understand me." He gets a little closer. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Yeah, and you also told me you didn't like Dana yet somehow she ended up all over you in the pool right after I told you I'm going to stay with Peter."

"Oh my God..." Miguel shuts his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "For the last time, I'm not interested in her. She threw herself at me...I don't know who told you otherwise but whoever did got it completely wrong. I swear to you."

"You're saying Ben's a liar?"

"Ben?!" Miguel goes silent as he tries to do calculations in his head, but you already start walking away.

"Okay, I don't know why Ben of all people is telling you that, but he's wrong." Miguel speeds up, walking backwards quickly next to you, still facing you. The camera man once again struggling to keep up with you two.

"I don't like Dana and I've been trying to tell you that. And I'm trying to tell you right now, Peter's not right for you."

"Uh huh, and you also told me that I'm the one in Thailand and proceeded to run over my heart the next day."

"Wait! Ugh....please!"

You stand at the tiki bar on the beach, grabbing the bartender, James' attention. "Strawberry daiquiri please..."

James nods and lowers his head, trying to mix you a drink but can't help but remained tuned in as he works.

Miguel sighs and sits on one of the bar stools. He addresses James. "A beer when you get a chance please? Thank you..."

You two sit in silence for a moment. He speaks again, his voice more quiet. "I needed to tell you because I'm going home tonight."

You look at him, confused. "Why do you say that?"

He sighs. "Nobody here to give me a rose. And it's ladies choice."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious."

"What about Dana?"

"If Dana gives me a rose I'm only accepting it so I can stay here and keep an eye on you."

"Miguel, I can handle myself just fine."

"No, you can't. You keep falling for the wrong guys and you're about to make a mistake."

"You were one of them."

Miguel blinks a little rapidly and looks off, trying to act like that didn't sting. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the upset rising in his body, blaming the alcohol in your system and your stress for your scathing remarks.

"I don't know if this is a weird jealousy thing, or you're trying to get back at me, or..." You continue, counting off your fingers as you speak, making some sort of drunken list.

"I'm not jealous." Miguel mumbles, picking at a random notch in the wooden bar.

"I'm gonna just pretend like you literally didn't just lie to me again," you say, also turning away.

"What? Ohhh my God." Miguel takes a deep breath. "Okay, yes, of course I'm jealous of you and Peter. Watching you guys kiss and go on dates. How seemingly happy he makes you when I know I couldn't make you feel like that? Yeah, of fucking course I'm jealous. It hurts."

The corner of your eyes soften a little bit. "Why now though, Miggy? Why do you only chase me after you've hurt me and after I'm trying to move on?"

"I don't know..." Miguel says quietly, rubbing his face. "Because I'm a dumbass? Because I had shitty judgement and I took you for granted. Because I didn't realize how much it would actually hurt to go through everything I put you through this last year?"

You look down, trying to hold in your tears.

Miguel gives you a sorrowful look, "Look... I'm only being stubborn right now because I see myself in you. You're about to make the same mistake I did and choose the wrong person like I did. I don't want you to walk away from this with any regret that'll come back to haunt you later..."

He pauses, running a hand through his hair and looking into your eyes. "And no, I don't expect you to come running back to me after this. No matter how badly I want you to..."

After letting one tear escape, you blink furiously, wiping your eyes, taking care not to ruin your eye makeup any more than it already is. You sit with his words for a while, letting them sink in.

Part of you doesn't feel great hearing that, but a larger part doesn't believe him. No, Peter wouldn't do something like that? Sweet Peter? And with Dana of all people? He clearly dodged her when everyone was in the pool together. There's no way...

Somehow you know you're being overly optimistic, but you decide to tuck it away for now, since there were more pressing matters like the impending rose ceremony which was due to commence at any moment at this late hour.

"Thank you for telling me. But let me handle it on my own. I made tons of allowances for you, Miguel. And I'm going to do the same for him. But if it turns out to be true? I'll deal with it when I deal with it. Have a safe trip home, Miguel."

At that moment, Jason Donner comes around the corner. "There you two are... we're all waiting on you. Cocktail hour's been over for 20 minutes. It's time to head on up to the rose ceremony. You okay?"

Jason tilts his head when he sees your obvious upset on your face.

"Yeah, I'm good." You mumble, quickly shifting past Jason's curious expression, forgetting the daiquiri you were waiting on, Miguel watching you walk away yet again with a solemn face and his heart split in two.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The group is hanging out outside of the rose ceremony room. Ben and Felicia are talking in hushed voices with Felicia every so often leaning her head towards Dana and Peter B., attempting to eavesdrop their conversation as Dana talks his ear off.

Peter is hardly reacting to her and looks rather nauseous, looking around with glazed, sullen eyes avoiding Felicia's suspicious, piercing gaze, his quickly-sobering thoughts making him slowly realize the gravity of the sin he just committed earlier.

You walk up to Peter, your eyes narrowing and your stomach dropping a tiny bit when you see Dana is standing next to him.

"Oh hey!" Dana says with phony niceness. "Peter and I were just talking about you. Have you been drinking? I can tell. God, that's embarrassing."

"Um, what?" You say, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh my God, I'm just kidding! I didn't mean it in a bad way. Peter was telling me how cute you look when you get all tipsy. Doesn't she look cute right now Peter? Oh my God, now she's getting embarrassed, awhhh that's adorable!"

You roll your eyes and put yourself physically in between him and Dana. Peter's eyes light up a little bit when he sees you, his hand reaching out to take yours and pull you closer, however his expression fades to slight worry when you whisper to him.

"I need to talk to you..."

Unfortunately, your words are cut off when one of the producers takes you by the shoulders. "Sorry, Pete, I'm gonna need to steal her. Hey, we need you to get lined up with the other women now."

You huff out a breath of frustration.

"Everything okay?" Peter asks quietly. You just nod curtly and give his hand a squeeze then allow the producer to usher you away.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The five men are standing in the middle of the common room, the dim lights cast an aura of seriousness. All the men are cleaned up wearing mostly nicer button down shirts, pants, and shorts. Sunkissed faces painted in a stoic expression with quiet nervousness rippling underneath.

All of their faces light up when the four women walk in: You, Felicia, Dana, and MJ, all dressed in different flowy dresses that make you all look like beachy queens of the night. You exhale and look at Peter B., who gives you a small smile, his hands balled into nervous fists in his pockets. Miguel is looking at you too with a neutral expression on his face, his jaw tensing as he looks down.

Dana smiles at Peter B., who quickly moves his eyes away from her back onto you, trying not to be obvious. Immediate guilt and regret eating him from the inside out. George and Patrick, aka Web-Slinger, stand there with relaxed looks on their faces, seemingly unphased by the tension hanging in the air. Ben gives a small wink to Felicia who beams in return.

Jason Donner enters the room. "Welcome, everyone to another rose ceremony. Now, as you all now, it's ladies choice this week. There are five men remaining, but with only four roses to be handed out, so, gentlemen, one of you will leaving paradise tonight."

The five men quietly nod their heads in acknowledgement and Jason turns to MJ. "MJ, whenever you're ready, you'll start."

MJ nods and steps forward, clad in a tight red dress with a curly ponytail. She picks up the first rose boutonniere laying in the tiny pile on top of a small wooden stand. A somber tune begins to play as she takes the rose in her hands. Her eyes land on Peter B. for a brief moment, her face still deadpan, but then she looks at George with a smile.

"George?"

George breaks out into a cocky grin and he steps forward, standing in front of her.

"George, will you accept this rose?"

"Course..." He grins as she pins it to his breast pocket of his blue button down shirt. Peter B. exhales and looks away as this happens. You notice and your lips part a little bit, a slightly odd feeling announcing itself in your gut that you try to press down.

Felicia goes next, taking the rose in her hands, wearing a black halter top dress tonight and she doesn't hesitate for one moment. "Ben?"

Ben walks forward, a shy grin on his face.

"Ben, will you accept my rose?"

"Always." He whispers, as she pins the rose to his Hawaiian shirt with a giddy smile.

Your turn next. You step forward, still wearing the light blue kimono style dress from your date with Peter B. earlier. One of your shaky hands takes the second to last rose and you look up, your eyes finding Peter B. first. He flashes you a smile in return, giving you a hopeful look.

Miguel is looking at you too, he takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, his head leaning back towards the ceiling. He knows he's not getting your rose tonight, he's just preparing himself for the gut punch of hearing you choose someone else, and falling for Peter B.'s false act.

Somehow, saying his name doesn't feel as right as you thought it would.

"Peter..."

Peter nods and walks forward with a smile, pulling the breast pocket of his white button down shirt forward for you to pin the rose.

"I just want you to know, this isn't just a rose to me. I take it really seriously..." You whisper to him. Dana rolls her eyes and lets out a scoff. Your eyes shoot her a slightly peeved look. The others look around somewhat nervously. Miguel tries to crane his neck a little to try and make out your soft words.

Peter's smile falters and his eyes dart to the rest of the group for a moment before he looks down at you. He wipes a little bead of sweat that began to form on his forehead.

"Peter, is there anything going on that would make you feel like you cannot accept my rose?"

The silence lasts a little longer than you'd like it to but he finally answers,

"N-No...I'm here for you. I have genuine feelings for you and I want to see where this goes. I mean that wholeheartedly, baby..." He says in a soft voice.

You nod slowly, then pin the rose to his shirt and he steps back into his position among the rest of the men. Miguel closes his eyes. Felicia mouths to you,"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later." You mouth back to her.

Jason Donner re-enters the room. "Gentlemen, it's the final rose tonight. Dana, whenever you're ready."

Dana steps forward, wearing an orange two piece dress. She looks between Web-Slinger who's relaxed and Miguel who still has his eyes closed. She pauses then finally calls out a name.

"Miguel."

Miguel opens his eyes a little puzzled but steps forward, straightening his black polo.

"Will you accept..." Dana starts but is cut off by Miguel waving one of his hands.

"I'm sorry, but if I accept your rose I'd only be staying here for someone I'm still in love with." He looks over at you who's just as shocked and confused as the rest of the group.

Dana huffs quietly and looks down at the floor for a moment, placing the rose back on the stand. Jason Donner enters, "Dana? What's the hold up?"

Dana shakes her head. "He can't accept it. He's still here for..." Dana clears her throat as though your name was physically revolting to say.

Jason looks at Miguel. "Miguel, are you sure about this?"

He nods solemnly in response, not tearing his gaze from you.

Jason nods and says, "Well, Patrick, Miguel, since there isn't any more roses being handed out tonight, I'm so sorry, but you both are going home. Take a moment, say your goodbyes."

Web-Slinger aka Patrick, pulls George into a bro hug. He was kind of there to just party anyway, no sweat off his back.

Miguel gives a goodbye to George and Ben, but when it came to Peter B. he gave him the cold shoulder, pointing an accusatory finger,

"Don't fucking pull any shit like that again. If I find out you hurt her again, I'll deal with you personally."

"Wha-?" the others react to the abrupt switch up, the mood turning into hostile energy. Peter's face turns bright red.

"What's he talking about?" Felicia asks out loud as Miguel starts to make his way to the exit.

"Miguel, what do you mean by that?" Felicia asks again louder this time, concern in her voice.

You look down at the floor. Miguel says in a sarcastic tone, "Ask Peter, he can tell you."

"Miguel, I have no clue what you're talking about." Peter speaks up, standing up a little straighter in false confidence, deciding to play it cool.

Miguel hisses in annoyance and points at Dana. "Ask your new little friend, you two seemed to be getting close enough."

Dana points at herself, seemingly gobsmacked, "Me?!"

"Yes, you." Miguel says crossly. "Tell the truth, Dana. Tell the truth that you and Peter were hooking up in the bushes tonight, and that you threw yourself on me in the pool, completely unprovoked, and I didn't come onto you like everyone here believes."

Dana turns red with anger, and everyone else's mouths fall open. She tries to speak but just babbles incoherently. Your eyes narrow, a sick feeling pooling in your stomach.

"Now hold on..." Ben steps forward. "I was the one who saw Miguel and Dana in the pool earlier. I clearly saw both of you all over each other. Dana was holding him around the waist like this-" Ben awkwardly lifts his leg in some kind of demonstration, straddling an invisible man. "...and Miguel, you had your hands on her waist. I saw it when I went back for my towel."

"Well, check your facts again." Miguel says in an annoyed tone. "She jumped on me. I was minding my own business tanning on the inflatable."

"But why was it only after all of us left?" Ben asks, his eyebrows raising. "Same thing with Peter and Dana. Somehow all of these things are happening with nobody around and it's your word against everyone else's."

"Well why should we believe you about Dana and I?" Miguel shoots back at Ben.

Ben's eyes widen as he gestures to himself. "I have absolutely no reason to lie. But you do." He points to Miguel. "You're not over her and you know it." He nods in your direction. "You're trying to sabotage Peter's relationship, but yet you're trying to have it both ways with Dana too."

Miguel scoffs and laughs, but there's zero humor to be found in it. "Are you serious, Ben?"

"Miguel, I think you need to just worry about your own relationships right now." Peter B. says, taking a step towards Miguel. "You didn't get a rose tonight. Just take back what you said and exit peacefully and we can all forget this ever happened."

Miguel's eyes flash with anger, "I'm not going anywhere yet because I refuse to be made out to be some liar when I'm not!"

George steps in this time, "Hold on, let the man speak." He gestures in Miguel's direction.

Miguel takes a huge breath of relief. Even though George could be a douche, at least someone here was willing to hear him out, although it may have been mostly motivated by the fact that George didn't care much for Peter B. anyway.

"How about you stay out of this one, George?" Peter snarls, turning on him.

George smirks, the tension between them had been built up for weeks due to the jealousy over MJ.

"Oh yeah, and just what are you gonna do about it?"

"Guys!" Ben gets in between George and Peter, nearly tripping over backwards into George when Peter keeps surging forward, knocking Ben off his balance.

Miguel tries to insert himself between the two men as well and remove Ben, however Peter gives him a sharp shove, knocking him backwards, "Get back!"

Miguel's face flushes red with fury, taking a step towards Peter, however George beat him to it, shoving Peter, then causing Peter to lunge forward , only to be abruptly stopped by several security guards rushing the scene to restrain the heated men from ripping each other apart. Everyone is panicking now with several people from both on and off set running around, all this pent up drama and frustration nearly coming to a boiling point. The women scurry out of the fray.

"Hold on!" You yell at the top of your lungs, turning to Dana this time. "There's two sides to every story. So, is it true?" You ask, your voice slightly shaky. "Did you and Peter hook up?"

Dana's eyes narrow at you, "I don't see why it's any of your business?"

"Umm, considering the fact I'm dating him, I would say it is. It's a simple question, yes or no, Dana." You say, crossing your arms.

Dana scoffs. "I don't answer to people who don't know how to address me in the right tone, first of all. And I don't need to apologize or admit to anything when I haven't even done anything wrong."

You and Felicia look at each other with bizarre looks.

"Besides, if I wanted your man, I could have him." Dana taunts.

You throw your head back with an unamused cackle. "Puuuhlease! If you can take my man, then he's not my man. You can take my problems, not my man let's get that straightened out right now."

Dana throws her head back with an over exaggerated mocking laugh. You look at her with disgust.

"What is your fucking problem? I have seriously tried to be nice to you SO many times, Dana. You never apologized or owned up to your behavior."

"Oh like what, what did I do that was so bad, honey, tell me?" Dana bats her eyes sarcastically.

"Brag about wanting to fuck Gabriel, bullying the other girls in the house. Talking so much shit about me behind my back. You literally said the only way I could've gotten in the final two is if I slept my way to the top, and you slut shamed me, saying I was some type of hoe you'd find at a gas station."

Dana blinks. "I don't remember that."

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

A clip plays flashing backwards to Miguel's season, of Dana sitting begrudgingly in her camera confessional shortly after you won a group date rose during week 2.

A producer from behind the camera asks Dana, "So, what are your thoughts on her winning the group date rose?"

She scoffs and shakes her head. "I don't have any. Girls like her can't make guys fall in love with them. Like, I think she'd have to sleep her way to the top to even make the final two...I-what?! Sorry...it's true... Like it's all in the way you carry yourself and she carries herself like...I don't wanna be rude but, a slut. I mean, just look at the way she talks and dresses!! It's giving...gas station prostitute."

She giggles furiously, laughing off the producer's playful scolding in response. "Oh please...I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay?! I'm just being real. Just uh...just edit that one out." She shrugs and smirks.

🌹🌹Back to the present🌹🌹

Dana blinks innocently again, "I don't remember saying that. I might have said something to that effect but those weren't my exact words."

"Dana! Nobody on this beach even fucking likes you!" Felicia yells, her blue eyes aflame with frustration.

"Well sweetheart, I didn't come here to be liked, I came here to win." Dana replies in a honeyed tone.

"We've given you SO many chances to try and be friends with us and you act like you're better than everyone else here. You have zero respect for any of the women on this beach and throw yourself at all the guys. So just admit it, you hooked up with Peter. Be a big girl, put on your big girl panties, and OWN YOUR.SHIT!" Felicia claps in her face with every word.

Dana gets in Felicia's face, screaming back, "I do own my shit for your information. How about you take a chill pill and watch who the fuck you're talking to, bitch??"

"Hey!" Ben stops trying to play referee to the men and rushes over to Felicia's aid instead, the security guards too preoccupied with calming down an enraged George, Miguel, and Peter to jump in the brewing storm amongst the women.

"Leave her alone!" Ben hisses at Dana. But Felicia's getting worked up, trying to wriggle out of Ben's grasp.

"Bitch?! Who the fuck are you calling a bitch?!" She shrieks.

"You, bitch!" Dana says in a taunting, sing-song tone back.

"Dana, you're the last person to be calling anyone on this beach a bitch!" You speak up, putting yourself in between Ben, Felicia, and Dana.

"Yeah, um I wasn't talking to you honey. Mind your business, please and thank you, mkay? Thank you darling!" Dana replies in a snarky tone.

"Well I'm talking to you!" You answer, not taking your eyes off Dana. You can feel your blood pressure steadily rising. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you disrespect my friend. And, you didn't even answer my question, did you hook up with Peter?"

Dana rolls her eyes and turns around, "The ones with daddy issues are always the worst."

"EXCUSE ME?!" You charge forward, her low blow setting off a switch, making you see red. You were open about your family struggles on the show and never thought you'd see the day when someone would be cruel enough to use it as ammo against you.

"Get. Out. Of. My.Face," Dana spits, a thick, gooey drop of her saliva landing on your jaw.

You black out into a blind rage of fury, your right hand balled into a fist wound up behind you, knocking Dana on the left side of her face. You follow with your left, socking her in the jaw, then your right again, leaving her almost guaranteed with a fat lip.

"Fucking-BITCH!" Dana screams, grabbing your hair.

You fight to keep your head raised, using all the strength in your upper body as your hands seize her wrist that has a good hold on your hair, also using your knees to try and throw one into her torso to encourage her to let you go. You hit her with one of your knees, causing her to yell, making her loosen her grip a little so your hair is finally free. You get in one more good shot to her face before another security guard seizes you around the torso, picking you up and carrying you away off to the side.

Miguel's attention is shifted away from Peter and the security guards blocking him and he looks over to see you mid-fight, his eyes going wide when he sees Dana grabbing you by the hair and was running over to save you before the security guard beat him to it.

You're sobbing and shaking with leftover fury and frustration, your lip trembling, your hair and dress a little disheveled and a lightly sore scalp from where Dana grabbed you but otherwise unscathed. The security guard sets you down on an empty couch in the common area. Felicia bolts over to you, she can't help but smile a little with satisfaction but it turns to worry and comfort at the sight of your tears.

"Dude....you got her good...oh my God don't cry, don't cry..." She pulls you into a hug, rocking you. Miguel sits down next to you.

"Hey....hey....what happened? You okay? She put her hands on you? Are you hurt? What can I do, what's the matter?" He shoots out the questions a mile a minute, Felicia pulling away for a moment to wipe your tears. Miguel gently pulls up the straps of your swimsuit top you're wearing under your kimono style dress that threatened to fall down and expose yourself. Both of them diligently working to fix you up.

"She needs tissues, Miguel!" Felicia orders. "Get her some ice too."

Miguel nods. "Don't let her get up okay? You two stay right there!"

"I h-hate her...I hate her..." You sputter and lament. "How can someone be so rude and evil...m'm-s-soo sick of t-this...." You sob and tremble, holding your knees in a ball.

"She's gone." Felicia whispers.

"Yeah, she's gone. You don't have to worry about her anymore, sweetie. " Miguel soothes.

"Dude, you got her so good too, oh my God." Felicia mutters to you in a low voice, the sound of Dana whining and screaming at the security guards and crew coming from the other side of the room. "I didn't even know you could fight like that. She deserved that after pushing you that hard, I didn't know she'd go that far..."

"Yeah." Miguel agrees, letting out a soft chuckle. "You defended yourself, there's no need to be upset. She's gone, she's throwing a fit so I think they're gonna take her to the hospital just to get her checked out..." Miguel sits up, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of what's happening, then grabs tissues off the counter, handing them to Felicia. "I'll be back with the ice."

Felicia nods and starts gently dabbing your eyes as you blow your nose. Ben comes up and sits next to you and Felicia. "You okay there, cookie?" He asks you softly.

"She's okay, just shaken up." Felicia answers while you continue to take shallow breaths.

"M'....M'okay...." You breath out slowly.

"Ben get her some water. Miguel's gone to get her ice."

"I'm on it." Ben leaves, on his way to fetch you water.

"Thanks, bestie...I-I'm scared they're gonna send me home..." You mutter through your tear soaked voice.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," Felicia whispers, stroking your arm and pulling you into a hug. "Dude, fuck Dana...don't worry about her dude, you did nothing wrong. She started it by insulting you and spitting in your face. I saw the whole thing and I can vouch for you. I'm sure Miguel and Ben will too."

Miguel and Ben arrive. Ben hands you a glass of ice water with a curly straw and some freshly squeezed lemon in it. Miguel has an ice pack and your favorite blanket that he wraps around your shoulders, putting his arms around you while Felicia holds your hand.

Peter B. comes walking up to your group, his shirt unbuttoned, hair frazzled, and face disheveled from all the action. Miguel hisses and Ben jumps up, putting his hands on Peter's chest.

"Not now, man." Ben says quietly.

"I just wanna make sure she's okay. I just wanna make sure she's okay!" Peter protests, his face turning red again.

"Peter...fuck off!" You yell over them.

Peter freezes, looking at you sadly. "Baby, I..."

"Peter, beat it!" Felicia yells. "You've embarrassed her for the last time. You tripped and your face landed into some other girl's cunt tonight. You're done!!"

"I wanna hear it from her." Peter says firmly, a lump in his throat.

"Just leave me alone, Peter..." You softly whimper out. "I'm tired, and I'm done..you lied to me, you made me look fucking stupid, and I need space right now."

Peter goes to protest again but Ben shakes his head, "Bro...come on, man. Leave it alone."

Peter shoots a glare at Miguel, then gives you one more sad look before he sulks off, headed towards his room with a loud sigh of defeat.

You hear the ambulance sirens and get a glimpse of Dana being escorted by two security guards, her slightly limping. Her short hair was tousled with a giant puffy bottom lip that's turning red and slightly purple with a bruise, several tissues stuffed up her nostril for her bloody nose. You can't hear what she's saying but it sounds like she's running your name through the mud some more and berating the EMTs as they help her onto a stretcher.

Felicia squeezes your hand while she sits cuddled up against Ben. You rest your head against Miguel's chest as all of you sit on the couch together and stare off, the future of your paradise experience uncertain at this point after such a dramatic night.

The host, Jason Donner, speaks in a voiceover: "stay tuned for another drama-packed episode of Singles in Paradise!”

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

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[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

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A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

#is this even good???? i’m spiralling #like why do i feel like it isn’t giving anything. #tbsg #meste blurb #blurb #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy x oc #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfic #fanfiction #fluff

[qedart]

Time Warp AU - #14 Well this update just didn't want to come together. But finally it's done (all 8K+ of it 😬) and I'm actually rather happy with how it turned out. So I hope you all enjoy this offering of Pete emotional H/C with a side of parental Icemav.

Honestly, Pete had never really got the big deal about birthdays. Sure, when he was little they seemed important. They’re supposed to, when you’re young. But he wasn’t a child anymore. 

He’d learned a long time ago that simply managing to make it through the year wasn’t exactly cause for celebration. A few rounds of people forgetting, ignoring, or scoffing at him for waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of the date had made it all very clear to him - nobody gives a damn about stuff like that, and you look pathetic if anybody catches on that you might. 

So he didn’t. Doesn’t. 

For the longest time now, the only real significance that that day held for him was as a marker of his being one year closer to independence. Living with Mav and Ice, even that didn’t provide the same spiteful satisfaction that it once had. 

These days, he didn’t count down the months until he was free of the people he found himself in the midst of. Quite the opposite really. Ice, Maverick, Tom, the Daggers, the uncles… they were good people. Good, kind, safe people - and they actually seemed to like Pete being around. 

Nothing lasts forever though, of course. He knew that. He was well aware that he was one big screw up away from blemishing whatever image they all had of him, one proper misstep from sending the whole house of cards he’d built around himself from falling to the ground in one way or another. And he was well overdue for one of those mistakes. Unfortunately, it was an inevitability. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Pete Mitchell messes up nice things. 

He tried not to let it bother him too much. 

It was better to just live in the moment, and at this particular moment he had far bigger concerns than inevitabilities or the fact that he was turning 17 in a week. The chief among them - Maverick was turning 60. 

Unlike Pete’s birthday, that was something significant. That was important. That was worthy of celebration. 

Up until this whole time-warp fiasco went down, Pete would have put money on him (any version of him) not making it past 30. 60 was double that! It demanded celebration, even if Mav himself had developed a habit of referring to the subject of his age merely as ‘the situation’.

So when Ice suggested a little lunchtime get-together by the Hard Deck the coming Saturday ‘for the birthday we’ve got coming up’, he agreed that it was a fantastic idea. 

“Penny’s got a barbecue there that we could use I’m pretty sure,” Tom chipped in over his cereal. 

“Nice. I’ll be there if there’s food,” Pete grinned as he made a bowl for himself. 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

“You were going to be there anyway, numb-skull.”

“Boys, please,” Ice sighed, before Pete could return fire. “I’ve not had my coffee yet, let’s just hold off on the bickering for a little while longer.”

Pete sniffed when Tom promptly shot him an exceedingly smug smirk. 

“I’d get drinking if I were you.”

“Pete.”

“Fine,” Pete huffed, before turning back to Ice. “The beach sounds great though. Want us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves,” Ice replied, shaking his head. “Mav and I will sort out the logistics.”

And that was that. Party at the beach to celebrate Mav’s 60th, be there at 12. Sorted. 

The rest of the week went by like normal, for the most part. He was asked if he was excited about the party a bit more often than he expected he would be, but he figured it was just people making conversation. He and Tom spent most of Thursday trying to find the old man a fitting birthday present. 

“You’ve seen the hanger! How are we supposed to top that?!”

“I think we should probably start by setting our sights a little lower.”

In the end they decided to both go in on a new camera, figuring it was the most affordable of Mav’s hobbies to tap into. 

When the day itself eventually did roll around, Pete was up and out of bed by dawn. Not due to excitement, and not due to any additional birthday gestures like he’d been contemplating (a fry up was always a good start to the day, after all), no - due to Tom. 

“We’re going for a ride and you’re going to enjoy it,” he announced the second Pete woke (with a start, thanks to the other boy dropping his riding jacket and boots on top of him). “Up and at ‘em.” 

“But what about Mav’s-?”

“We’ll see him at the party, I’ve left a note,” Tom announced, grabbing the end of Pete’s quilt and dragging it out of the room with him. “Mush.”

“I hate you!”

“Hate me on the move. There is breakfast with our name on it somewhere.” 

“Ugh!” 

The ride, annoyingly, was fantastic. The roads were mostly clear, and riding with Tom was always a blast. Tom even bought him breakfast and a couple of pastries for after (“It’s your birthday, idiot. Of course I’m shouting”). It was… well, nice. Pete didn’t care about birthdays, he really didn’t, but even still… it was just nice. Sitting at the look out, munching on the food his best friend had bought for him, he found himself feeling genuinely content with life and how it was turning out. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to even imagine that. It was a moment he resolved to savour. 

“You feel any different?” Tom asked, smirking as he dusted the icing sugar from his Pączki off his fingers. 

Pete scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, nodding seriously. “I feel like I’ve levelled up, you know? Way more mature now. I feel like I’ve really grown as a person.”

“And yet not an inch vertically? Life’s not fair, is it-?”

“Fuck you!”

Tom snickered, ducking out of the way of the hand Pete swung at the back of his head, before holding his own up in surrender. 

“Seriously though, happy birthday,” he said, shooting Pete a warm smile that made his stomach do that fluttering thing he’d noticed it doing more and more often lately. 

Smiling himself and ducking his head, Pete shrugged. 

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Well as somebody with a vested interest in your being born, I reckon it is,” Tom retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Pete scoffed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he folded his arms over his knees. 

“A vested interest, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Nawww, you do like me,” Pete snickered. 

“You’re letting it get to your head.” 

“Is that why you brought me out here, to confess your undying love?” 

“In. your. dreams,” Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Bringing you out here was my present to both you and Mav.” 

“How is me going to go for a ride and being bought breakfast a present for Maverick? 

“You going for a ride and being bought breakfast means both you and I are here, not at home. Which means Mav and Ice have the whole place to themselves, all morning. And there’s no chance of either of us overhearing anything and being scarred for life.” 

Pete blinked at that, before pulling a face at the thought of Mav’s birthday ride and announcing, utterly serious, “You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for.”

“I know,” Tom drawled, before shrugging as he tucked the rubbish from his breakfast into his backpack. “And maybe I wanted to get in first with the birthday wishes.” 

“Always a competition with you, isn’t it?” Pete scoffed, ignoring the other boy’s derisive snort as he jumped back to his feet. “Race you back to the Hard Deck!” 

“Absolutely not!” Tom snapped, hurrying to his feet all the same as Pete bounded over to the bikes. “That flies entirely in the face of the contract!” 

“I laugh in the face of the contract!”

“Yes! That’s why it took so long to draft! Pete!” 

They didn’t end up racing back, much to Tom’s relief. As a result, by the time they pulled up, pretty much everybody had arrived at the beach. Bradely, Hangman, and Phoenix were still by the Bronco though, pulling the last of their stuff out the back.

“Ah, the birthday boy has arrived,” Hangman cried as they wandered over.

“Ha ha,” Pete scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Rooster. “Hey, can we dump our helmets and stuff in your car?”

“Sure, the back seat should be free,” he replied as he hefted the cooler from the trunk. “But really, happy birthday, Pete.”

“Ah, thanks?” Pete replied, a confused smile tugging at his lips as he stepped out of the way for Tom to stow his stuff away as well. That’s two times today. Weird. 

“What’s with the face?” Phoenix asked, laughing. “17 is a big deal.”

Pete laughed. 

“Yeah right,” he replied, stooping to grab one of the bags from their pile. “16’s supposed to be a big deal, and 18 definitely is. 17’s just there.”

“Agree to disagree. But, that raises a good question,” replied Jake, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “What sort of Sweet 16 fiasco are we competing with today?” 

Pete arched a brow at the question, but figured it made sense. Out of all the milestone birthdays, 16 was the only relevant one he and Mav had an overlap on. Though he wasn’t sure how much “I spent most of it in the ER with a broken arm’ would help with gauging the temperature for how this one was going.

Instead he just shrugged. 

“Nothing really special. I’m sure this’ll be way better.”

“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Jake replied with a grin, ruffling Pete’s hair (and then, far more amusingly, Tom’s), before leading the way over to the sand. 

Pete blinked as they drew closer. A lot of people had turned up. All of the daggers were here, pitching up chairs and umbrellas or tossing a football (actually, two footballs) around while almost all the uncles and even Viper milled about among them. Mav, Ice, Slider, and Penny were getting the barbecue started, chatting with Warlock and Cyclone (which was weird, but probably Ice’s doing). He even spotted Amelia and Theo slip out of the Hard Deck, deep in conversation with Hondo (about something nerdy and interesting no doubt) to join the group. 

“Damn, Mav sure invited a lot of people for someone who pulls faces whenever anybody utters the number 60 around him,” he laughed as he hefted the bag further up his shoulder. “Or are you all gatecrashing just to torment him?”

Jake snorted at that, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah. Though he is being a baby about it, so if we did it would be his own fault,” he replied. 

“He actually ordered us not to mention ‘the situation’ the other day,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head.

“In fairness, Roo - you and Bagman were having a lot of fun at his expense,” said Phoenix as they all dropped their bags on the sand and set about making camp. She grinned at Pete and Tom. “There have been lots of fossil jokes. These two even smuggled a walker on base and swapped it with his lectern before debrief. He had to walk it to the side of the classroom.”

“Cruel,” Tom snickered from beside him. “Funny, but cruel.”

“You know it,” Jake cackled, dropping his bags down on the sand before stretching his arms over his head. “But nah, he’s opted out of a group celebration. Don’t know why. But I’m afraid that means you’re flying solo today, baby bro.”

Pete blinked again. 

“...I’m what?”

“You’ve got the spotlight pretty much to yourself today,” Bradley replied, shrugging like it was the simplest thing. “Apparently he’s got some day-trip planned with Ice tomorrow, so he’s sorted. That just leaves you with all of the attention. Reckon you can handle that?”

…Shit. 

Shit, shit shit - he had not prepared for this. He’d not expected this. What the hell even was this?! He’s turning 17. Who gives a shit?! Why the hell would all of these people come out here, some of them a hell of a long way, just for him?! They wouldn’t. Had they not been told it was just for him? Did Mav wriggle out of this at the last second and now he had 20+ people who’d pretty much written off half their weekend for no reason on his hands? 

“Pete, you alright?” Tom asked, shaking his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. 

Pete grimaced, before glancing around at the others and finding them all looking at him with concern. 

He pulled on a wide grin and laughed. 

“Me? Yeah, of course!” he replied cheerily, mind racing all the while. He needed a minute to himself. To come up with a plan. To fix this. 

Quickly turning back to the others, slapping his forehead as he did, he said, “You know what? I think I left my phone on my bike. Just gonna go grab that, can’t lose another one. Are you guys good here for a sec?”

“I mean, yeah,” Tom said slowly, frowning. 

“Great!” Pete cheered (perhaps a bit too overzealously, but whatever) before spinning around and, with a quick “Back in a moment!” taking off back up the beach. 

Right, step one, calm the hell down. He had to get a hold of himself and he had to do it now. 

Alright, it was a surprise. Alright, there were probably going to be some irritated people down there. So what? He could deal with irritated people. He could deal with people that actively wanted to kick his ass, irritated is nothing. Why the hell was he freaking out so much? Less than a year of being treated nicely and he’d gone completely soft, seriously?

He shook his head roughly. 

He was fine. This was fine. He’d make it work somehow. He just needed to stop acting like a baby and come up with a plan of action. 

He could direct attention back to Maverick. The old man can try and wriggle out of it all he likes but two can play this game. He’ll stick around for an hour, direct as much attention to Mav as possible, whip Jake and Bradely up into enough of a frenzy to keep the momentum going and then make a classy exit. Nobody will even remember he was here and they’ll forget all about this misunderstanding. That’s good. That’ll work. 

…Unless Mav launches a counter-attack. Which he would. 

Shit!

“Pete?” 

Pete whirled around and found Mav and Ice approaching, both looking concerned and not all that surprised to see him up here. Goddamnit, Tom, the snitch!!

“What’s going on, kiddo?” Mav asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“I mean, that’s a pretty good question man,” Pete replied, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he glanced down at the beach once more before turning his attention (and frustration) back to the older man. “I get that you’ve got some sort of three quarter life crisis going on about turning 60, but seriously, throwing me under the bus so you can avoid that is a dick move.” 

Mav, the bastard, looked more confused than chastened at the rebuke, exchanging a bemused glance with Ice. 

“You’re going to have to spell this one out for us, buddy.”

Pete groaned, folding his hands on top of his head. 

“First, explain it to me, guys,” he replied. “What was the plan? Trick everyone here by saying it’s a party for Mav and then hope people aren’t too put out when it turns out it was for the other Mitchell? Jeez guys, I mean, what the hell? Why the hell?! Nobody gives a damn it’s my birthday. I don’t give a damn it’s my birthday. Now it looks like I do, and now I get to look like the stupid little moron who needed people tricked here to pad things out!”

“Pete,” Ice said slowly, holding his hands out like he was trying to calm down some wounded animal. Like Pete was being irrational about this. “You do know this party is for you, right?”

“Yes,” Pete replied with every ounce of patience he possessed. “I’m aware of that. That’s exactly my point”

“No. He means it was always intended to be just for you,” Mav weighed in. 

Pete sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried his very best to channel Ice and remain as diplomatic as he possibly could (it did not help, mind you, that Ice was joining in on this nonsense. But he tried nevertheless). 

“Look,” he said with forced calm, “I see what you’re trying to do, and it’s a nice thought. I appreciate that you guys care and want to make a fuss, I do. But you can’t just expect to trick people into writing off half their weekend for one thing, and then bait and switch with a discount offer at the last second. Wood and Wolf flew in from Texas for this, guys. Please. I’ll see if I can get the Daggers to lay off the fossil jokes, but- …what’s this?”

“Read it,” Ice replied, holding his phone out to Pete until he took it and did as he was told. 

Jake has named the group chat: Big Effing Deal Jake: First of all, how. dare. you? Nat: Seconded! Both for leaving us out and forcing me to agree with Bagman. Jake: Look what you’ve brought us too!!!  Nat: I feel physically sick.  Jake: Ditto. Bradley: Wow, you guys really are in sync today.  Nat: You take that back!!! Ice: Could somebody please explain what we’re being accused of here.  Jake: Betrayal!!!  Coyote: Dude - you’ve been hitting the expresso machine again, haven’t you? Mav: Guys. BOB: Rooster mentioned you are having a get together for Pete’s birthday on Saturday and we’re all handling the rejection differently. Fanboy: How could you, Mav? Mav: Well first, there’s no rejection for anybody to handle. We floated the idea of a beach party this morning and he seemed alright with it. So if you guys are free and want to come along, you’re more than welcome to.  Jake: Was that so hard?!!!! Mav: If you’d waited a few more hours I’d have invited you in person at work tomorrow. Jake: But Roo gets his invite right away??? :(  Ice: Rooster was over during the day, so yes, he heard first. Rooster: Remember how you were supposed to help me fix their gate today?  Jake: Nope. Poorly communicated on your part.  Jake: Moving swiftly on - we need times. And gift ideas. Nat: What a crappy brother. I got my present for him weeks ago.  Payback: Burn.  Payback: Also, same. Jake: You’re a pair of goody-goodies, I’m not surprised in the slightest.  Jake: Besides it doesn’t matter how early you got it. It’s how good it is. Nat: Got you beat there too Bagman.  Jake: Bullshit. Pete and I have a connection.  Payback: Is that what we’re calling you being a terrible influence now? Coyote: Just before these three properly kick off - is this a joint birthday bash? Or Pete-specific? Mav: Pete specific.  Mav: I’ve already got plans for mine.  Ice: And by that he means I have already made plans for him.  Ice: They’re on Sunday though, so we’ll be there regardless.  Mav: And people think I’m the competitive one. My point is, I’m covered, so don’t go worrying about that. Coyote: Roger that!  Fanboy: This is going to be great!! I can bake a cake if you like!!! Lil bro likes chocolate, right? Payback: Guys - take him up on the offer!  Phoenix: This! ^^^^^ Ice: That would be lovely, Fanboy, thank you. And yes, chocolate would be well received I expect.  Fanboy: Yeeeeeesssss!!  Mav: Right, we’re just going to leave you guys to this.  Rooster: Oh, actually, just before you go… Bradley’s added Sly-Guy, Chip_P, E!News, Full_M00ning…  Mav: Oh you little shit stirrer.  Sli-Guy: First of all, how dare you?! 

Pete blinked, utterly mystified, as he scrolled through the group chat (which seemed to go on for quite a bit) before eventually turning back to Ice and Mav. 

“I… I don’t understand,” he uttered. 

“Join the club, kiddo,” Mav replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You helped plan this,” Ice pointed out, a baffled expression on his ordinarily nonplussed face. “I specifically asked you if you would like a party at the Hard Deck?” 

“I thought you were asking for my input for Mav’s party,” Pete muttered, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he realised just how stupid he apparently was. 

“The daggers have been talking to you about it all week?” Mav pointed out, equally confused. “Bob asked you what snacks you’d like him to bring.” 

“I thought they were coming to me because they couldn’t get anything out of you!” Pete snapped back hotly. 

Ice held up a hand, cutting that line of conversation off before it could get too heated. Taking a deep, exceedingly put upon breath, he sighed “Once again, it appears that this family’s outstanding communication skills have come back to bite us all in the ass.”

He turned back to Pete.  

“If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t meant to be a surprise party,” he said.

Pete scoffed softly, in spite of himself, but soon enough the begrudging amusement gave way to confusion once more. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why would all of them come out if they knew it was just for me?” 

“How’s it any different from them coming out for me?” Maverick asked with a frown.

Pete shrugged. 

“They’re your family,” he replied simply. “They’re supposed to show up for you.” 

“They’re your family too,” Maverick argued, his frown deepening. 

“You do know that, don’t you?” Ice said slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Yeah. Course,” Pete muttered, cutting a quick glance to the group in question. Nobody seemed to have noticed they were gone yet, thank goodness. Somehow Pete felt like he’d find himself even more outnumbered if they did. He had to bury this quick though, if he wanted to avoid that fate. 

Unfortunately, when he turned back to the oldtimers, Ice had his signature ‘so you’re just going to lie to my face now?’ expression in place. Never a good sign. Also almost never directed at Pete he realised with a dull pain. 

“You know, you pull that face every time this topic of conversation comes up.”

“What face?” 

“The ‘well if it makes them happy’ face,” Ice replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Be honest with us, Pete. What’s going on here?”

Pete shrunk back a little at that, feeling very much under a spotlight all of a sudden and not entirely sure why. 

“N-nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

“Well clearly something is. And just to be clear, do you honestly believe that we’d have all been fine throwing a party for Maverick and doing absolutely nothing for you?” the older man asked, arching a brow pointedly. 

“I… I mean… I… I’d get it,” Pete stuttered, heart pounding in his chest. What the hell was going on? What did he even do? He took a step back, giving into the instinct to at least be out of arm's length, only to knock into the back of Ice’s Jeep when he tried. Crap. He was trapped. And he was in trouble. And he didn’t know why. 

His alarm must have shown on his face too, because soon enough Ice was taking a step back himself, hands held up disarmingly. 

“Pete, I’m not angry with you,” he said, calmly and far gentler than before. “I’m sorry.”

Pete swallowed thickly, but nodded all the same as he tried to rein himself in, to calm down for goodness sake. He was being so damn stupid!!

“I just don’t understand,” Ice continued. “You know everybody here loves you, don’t you? We haven’t dropped the ball that much I hope.” 

Embarrassment and shame twisted sickeningly in the pit of Pete’s belly. Because he did know that. He knew how hard everybody had tried to make him and Tom feel welcome. And not just as novelty extensions of Mav and Ice either, but as their own, separate people. They’d all tried so hard to bring them into the family and make them feel like they belonged in it, Pete knew it. He saw it each day. For the most time, he felt it too, but there was just this part of him that wouldn’t allow him to accept it fully. Wouldn’t allow him to trust it. To trust them. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered weakly, staring down at the tips of his boots. “I… I know it doesn’t make sense. It’s not anything you guys have done, or haven’t done. I know how much you’ve all tried to be welcoming. And you have, truly. I love it here… so much. But… but every time I try to… it’s just in the back of my mind I’m always… I…” 

He flinched sharply when something touched his arm, but it was just Ice reaching out to him. All of a sudden, that contact, that offer of reassurance was all he wanted. Sighing heavily he stepped forward and leaned against the old man’s chest, dragging in a deep, calming breath as Ice’s arms wrapped around him, squeezed him in a tight. 

“I love it here,” he uttered. “And everybody here… and I know they- you all care - about me and Tom. But I just know…” 

He sighed deeply. 

“It’s just… self-preservation, I guess. I know it’s going to really hurt, so much, when I mess up.  I didn’t care, when it was just some other home I was stuck in longer than usual, but now… now it’s probably too late already. When I mess up and have to go-”

“Hey, who said anything about you going anywhere,” Ice said with a frown, holding him closer. “We told you, you have a place in this family for life. Nothing will change that.”

Pete sighed sadly, shaking his head where it was pressed to Ice’s sternum. They didn’t get it. They felt that way now, but it wouldn’t last. 

“No matter how hard you try, you’re going to end up alone.” 

Both Pete and Ice froze at that, before turning to face Maverick, who looked all the world like he’d just commented on the weather rather than putting one of Pete’s deepest, most painful fears to words. And he wasn’t done. 

“We’re going realise just how messed up you really are. How much damage has been done. How much of it can’t be undone. And, most importantly, how much of it you probably deserved. And sooner or later we’ll change our mind about you. It’s all well and good to say we’ll always want you in the family if we haven’t seen the full picture yet, because let’s face it, you’re on the good behaviour streak of a lifetime right now. But sooner or later, you’re going to mess up, because that’s what you do. And then we’ll see the real you. The screw up. The waste of space. The guy everybody else can see clearly. Eventually the rose-coloured glasses will come off and  we’ll really see you for what you are. We’ll get tired of trying to bring somebody into a family who doesn’t deserve to be in it and clearly is meant to be on their own. It’ll be better for everyone to just stop trying. We probably won’t kick you out, to be fair - but when you head off to college or the academy… the calls and emails will peter out. Tom will probably find his own people too, when he’s got other options. He’ll stop spending time with you too. It’ll probably be pretty amicable really. But everybody will just go on with their life and there will be no room for you in them. That will be that. Better to just accept it now, try not to get too attached to how things are, so when it happens, at least you won’t look like you were blindsided by it all. It’s a bit less pathetic if you at least saw it coming.” 

Pete’s stomach sunk so fast through the blacktop it felt like he was pulling negative G’s. Mav knew. Mav saw how this was going to play out just as clearly as he did. The first card in his little house was beginning to wobble. 

To his horror he felt his face beginning to heat up and his eyes beginning to sting. He dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing them shut tight. He wasn’t a baby. This wasn’t a surprise. He wasn’t going to start crying in the middle of the car park where everybody could see him like some child. 

He jumped as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and looked up to find Ice, holding him close again, and leading them to the space between his jeep and Bradley’s Bronco - more or less out of sight from the rest of the group.

“Sit down and take a few deep breaths for me, kiddo,” he murmured, manoeuvring Pete until he was sitting down on the gravel, back pressed against the rubber of the Bronco’s tyre. Biting his lip, he folded his arms tight over his chest, knees drawing up as Ice kneeled down beside him and wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly all the while.. “In and out. Just like that. What the hell, Mav?” 

“Just trying to work out what we’re dealing with here,” Maverick replied, sounding tired and sad now. “Pete, can you look at me?”

Pete really didn’t want to. This was all humiliating and painful enough without risking bursting into tears the second he made eye contact with the old man as well. But, at the same time, this was the reality of the situation, and closing his eyes and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything either, except to make him look even more childish. So whether he wanted to or not, he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Clenching his jaw tight and breathing in deeply through his nose, he (as resolutely as he could manage) lifted his head and met Mav’s eye. He wasn’t expecting to be met with a sympathetic expression. How could Mav see him so clearly, and still look at him like that. 

“Does that about sum it up?” the old man asked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s going on in that head of yours.”

Scrubbing roughly at his face, Pete nodded his head. 

“M-more or less.” 

Mav hummed thoughtfully, pausing a moment, before smiling and sitting down properly across from them. 

“You know,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “The first time I met Carole, she scared that absolute crap out of me.” 

Pete blinked, confused at the strange turn their conversation had taken, but interested all the same. Mav wasn’t shy with talking about Goose or Carole, but he’d never heard that. 

A fond smile tugged at the edges of the old man’s mouth as he looked up wistfully at the sky. 

“People underestimated her. She was so loud and joyous all the time, most people figured she was probably a bit dim. But they had no idea. Sure she was smart enough, but her real strength was with people. She had this way of looking at a person, just looking at them, and seeing past all the bullshit.”

He shook his head. 

“The first shore leave after Goose and I became a team, Goose insisted that I come home with him. He hadn’t realised until we were literally docking that I didn’t have anywhere to go, so the second he put the pieces together it was, ‘Come on, you have to, Mav! It’ll be great. You can meet Carole. You guys will get on like a house on fire, I know it’. And I, for the life of me, couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to convince him otherwise. I think I was a bit blindsided that he was offering to spend more time together at all.” 

He scoffed. 

“Either way, the pressure was dialled up to 11,” he drawled. “Not only would I have to stay on my best behaviour for even longer, to keep Goose on side - and I’d been on a 6 month streak at that point and felt the end looming. But I also had to become best friends with his wife, immediately. Otherwise he’d wonder how he got that one so wrong. Then he’d look closer, and he’d see everything he’d somehow missed about me before. See exactly where I was lacking. Me getting to keep the one person in the navy, hell, the one person in the world that gave a damn about me - depended on this month going well.”

Rubbing at his scratchy eyes, Pete leaned a little more into Ice’s side, before asking. “You managed to pull that off?”

“Hell no, I lasted less than a week,” Mav scoffed, shaking his head. “And it only lasted that long because Goose and Carole had the patience of saints.”

Pete frowned. That didn’t make sense. He might not know this story but he knew a hell of a lot of the others that came later. He knew Mav stayed friends with Goose, and Carole as well, for years after when this would have happened. How could it not have worked? How did he screw up that badly and still manage to keep them around? 

He shot Ice a confused glance, receiving a ‘just roll with it’ shrug in response. 

“Carole was living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere Texas at the time. Her aunt needed help moving or something. Unfortunately that meant I had had about six hours of travelling to work myself up and come up with a game plan for how I was going to make it all work. Going in with a charm offensive wouldn’t have done it, Goose would feel like making moves on his wife, Carole would feel like I was a creep, and I’d be stuck with both of them feeling like that for a month. I couldn’t risk being myself, for reasons already discussed. So I decided on the red carpet treatment. From the second I got out of Goose’s truck to the second we got back in it to head back to the airport, Carole Bradshaw would be shown a level of respect and deference that no admiral had or has ever received from me. The queen of England could have come around and found it excessive. But it was the best I had.

“I addressed her as ma’am, I stood when she walked into the room or got up from the table, I tried to help out around the house as much as I possibly could. A big part of the plan was also trying to give her and Goose as much space and time to themselves as possible. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and the absolute last thing I wanted is for them to miss out on time together because Goose felt obliged to bring me along with him. On paper, I thought it worked. Be respectful and stay out of the way. Unfortunately, in practice it went more along the lines of me actively avoiding everybody like it was my job and, whenever I couldn’t, making the situation so awkward it was uncomfortable for everybody. And it was uncomfortable. My god. Goose and Carole, they tried so hard to get me to relax, come out of my shell, do the exact opposite of what I was trying to do essentially. It was not going well,” Mav laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head at the memory. 

“Goose knew I was acting off, which was putting me even more on edge. And I knew I was quickly moving past that ‘meeting new people is awkward sometimes’ grace period straight into ‘this little twerp I’ve known for a few months has got a problem with the love of my life’ territory. So not ideal. And Carol… Carol knew from the beginning that I was putting up a front, which made settling around her pretty much impossible.”

Pete grimaced sympathetically at the thought of it all. 

“At least you stuck it out,” he muttered. “I would have just left at that point.”

“Oh, I did,” Mav replied without missing a beat. “About five days in everything finally bubbled over. Goose tried to coax me into telling him what was wrong for about the millionth time and… well, after days of constantly being on red alert, barely sleeping from the stress, just second guessing every single move or sound I made while knowing, in spite of trying my best, it was all going to hell - I sort of lost it on him. Told him he could take whatever friendship he thought we had and shove it where the sun don’t shine because I sure as hell didn’t need it or him. That I'd been on my own for over half my life and I didn’t need anybody, thank you very much, least of all some hapless, sheltered country-boy who clearly didn’t know what was good for him if it smacked him in the face. Then I grabbed my bag and went straight to the train station.”

Pete blinked owlishly at that, confused to say the least. 

“But I thought Goose was your best friend,” he said. 

“He was,” Mav replied. 

“Even after that?!” 

“I know, I was surprised too.” 

Pete frowned, puzzling it over as Mav laughed softly and shook his head.. 

“This being the tiny town it was, the train didn’t run very often, and I’d missed the one for that day - which was just the cherry on the top really. I figured I’d just spend the night on the platform. Didn’t want to risk missing the next one, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself at the time so it seemed fitting. Which was exactly where Carole found me three hours later.”

Ice scoffed softly beside Pete, shaking his head with a fond smile of his own. 

“Mother Goose sent in the big guns then,” he drawled. 

“I honestly have no idea if Goose even knew,” Mav replied, smiling reminiscently himself. “I think she just figured she’d given us both enough time to sulk and decided enough was enough.” 

He chuckled, tilting his head back as he recalled the encounter. 

“She came over and sat down on the ground beside me,” he said, looking around them, the corner of his lips twitching a fraction higher. “Sorta like we are right now.”

Pete smiled weakly at that. 

“She sat with me for the longest time, didn’t say a word, just waited me out, until she could tell I was ready to actually listen to her. Then she took my hand and said, “You know what, honey? If you were half as rotten as you’re afraid you are, you wouldn’t care nearly as much as you do”.”

Pete ducked his head as, all at once, tears started welling up once again. God he wanted that to be true. With every fibre of his being he did. He bit his lip as he felt Ice pull him a little tighter against his side, and heard Mav scoot closer himself, reaching out and rubbing his arm himself. 

“Do you think she was right about that,” he uttered, voice crackling with the strain of keeping himself together. 

Mav smiled, squeezing Pete’s arm gently as he inclined his head. 

“Honestly, I always had my doubts,” he confessed. “But these days… I think she probably was.” 

Before he could stop them, a couple of the tears Pete had been battling against broke free and rolled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, buddy,” Mav sighed, reaching up to rub the moisture away. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget how much all of that stuff hurt.” 

Pete leaned into the contact, the corner of his mouth twitching a little as he did so.

“Actually pretty good to hear that from my perspective,” he murmured, drawing soft scoffs from the oldtimers. 

Shaking his head fondly, Mav patted Pete’s arm one last time before folding them over his crossed legs. 

“I’m telling you this for two reasons,” he said, ducking his head to meet Pete’s eye once again. “First, and I really am sorry for this but, unfortunately, this is just one of those cards that you and I got dealt. This is something that you were always going to have to work through. Being on your own for so long, and getting told so many times and in so many ways that nobody wants you, and nobody will ever want you - it leaves a mark. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It's just a hurdle that we get that some people don’t. Everyone’s got their own set. For us - it’s being very, very aware of just how much other people can hurt you, while at the same time knowing how much the alternative hurts too.”

Pete sighed softly, but nodded all the same. That point wasn’t exactly news to him, but it still sucked hearing it all the same. 

“And second,” Mav said, reaching out and brushing Pete’s hair back from his face with a small, reassuring smile. “Even though it doesn’t always feel like it, and that feeling will flare up from time to time unfortunately, some people really do stay.”

Pete lifted his head to look at the old man properly, something like hope fluttering weakly in the pit of his belly. 

“They stick by you as long as they possibly can, through more crap than you could possibly imagine. I know it’s hard to really let yourself believe that right now. I know it feels like the second you do it’ll all fall apart around you, like a house of cards. But that will fade with time and with evidence. You’re just going to have to trust me until then. You’re not meant to be alone. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong or bad about you. The people who are worth a damn, they stay - you just have to let them in in the first place.”

The older man leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Just be careful, because once you do, it’s all bets off. I had one moment of weakness around Slider 36 years ago and now I’m stuck with him.” 

Pete laughed wetly at that, smiling back as Mav practically beamed at him. 

“I hope you’re right,” he uttered, rubbing again at his face. 

“I am,” Mav replied, nodding firmly. “And look, I’m not going to lie to you and promise forever. Nobody knows what’s around the corner. Hell, a tsunami could take us all out right now.” 

Pete scoffed softly, rolling his eyes as Maverick ruffled his hair teasingly. 

“But the stuff you’re worried about, the mistakes you’re worried about making, I’m sorry but they’re just not gonna cut it.” 

Ice nodded at that. 

“Unfortunately, to shake us at this point you’d have to do things that you’re simply not capable of. And they certainly wouldn’t be accidental.” 

Pete frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. 

“...Could you give me a clue?” he asked. “You know, to be safe.”

Ice scoffed softly, before cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

“Alright. We’re talking about doing things that would deliberately traumatise others. Not accidents, like a car crash or getting in a really bad fight, though we’d all rather you avoided that too. Stuff that’s just evil. Things specifically done to make somebody else feel afraid or humiliated or less than” Ice replied calmly, brow rising pointedly. “Do you feel that avoiding that sort of behaviour would be a struggle for you?”

“Fuck, no,” Pete replied, nose wrinkling at the thought of doing anything along those lines.

Ice  nodded. 

“There you go. There’s the bar,” he replied simply. “Anything above that? Worst case scenario, you’re the pain in the ass of the week. And that’s a title we’ve all held at one point or another.”

“Even you?”

“Unjustly,” he sniffed. 

“Ask Uncle Sli about it some time,” Mav replied without missing a beat, before turning back to Pete before Ice could retort. “Honestly kiddo, do you really think Bradely was an angel growing up?” 

“Well… yeah?”

“Think again,” Ice drawled. 

Mav hummed, nodding seriously. 

“Off the top of my head, there was that time he threw a party with his baseball team while we were out of town and trashed the house.”

“The bike he borrowed without asking, rode unlicensed, and totalled - on a dare.” 

“The kitchen he nearly burned down because ‘guys - you can’t pause online games, how many times do I have to tell you?’ and ‘I want bacon’ turned out to be a bad mix.”

“The spy-phase that ended with him trying to sneak onto a military base, ours that is, and then refusing to answer any questions or co-operate after getting caught.” 

“I maintain that that was mostly Hollywood’s fault for taking him to watch True Lies.” 

Pete blinked, stunned by the antics of, by far, one of the more mature ‘big brothers’ he had. 

Ice scoffed, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. 

“And we still love the kid. Did back then when it happened and through much less amusing run-ins too,” he said, before squeezing Pete a little tighter to his side. “So try not to worry so much. You’re a kid, you’re supposed to do stupid things. Mav does stupid things every other day and we still keep him around. And that’s these days. He was an absolute menace when I first met him. And six years older than you are now. You’re a dream in comparison.”

Mav huffed. 

“You are a delight,” he said, patting Pete on the shoulder, before shooting his husband a pointed look. “But I think some people are forgetting which one of us introduced himself by immediately talking shit.”

“We were competing and the fact that you still bring it up almost 40 years later just further emphasises what a sound psychological victory that introduction was for me.”

“I mean I wanted to kick your ass all the more afterwards, so I’m not sure how much of a victory it was.”

“Well you never did, so a big one I would say.”

“Bullshit I never did-!”

“Go-ddddddd,” Pete groaned, though he couldn’t help but grin at the bickering, which, in the span of 10 months, had somehow become the comforting soundtrack of home for him (which probably said a lot about Ice and Maverick, but who cares). “Wher’es Tom when you need him?”

“Our point,” Ice said pointedly, shooting Mav a look that said quite clearly ‘we’re supposed to be a united front, genius (also, you know I’m right), “Is that you’re going to make mistakes. Everybody does. You’re going to do stupid things, things that we don’t approve of. And, because we’re here to help you become the best person you can be, we’ll call you out on it. At one point or another, we’ll disagree, we’ll argue, feelings will probably get hurt, egos will get bruised. And then, we’re going to be here anyway. Because you’re a member of this family and that’s not going to change.” 

“And we’ll remind you of that however many times you need,” Mav replied, smiling warmly at him, before slapping his own knees and leaning back. “Now, how would you like to proceed from here? Are you alright breaking the Birthday Drought today or would you like to go home and we can just have a nice family dinner tonight. Which would you rather?”

Pete bit his lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I guess I… I wouldn’t mind staying,” he replied, his heart and stomach fluttering again at the thought of all these people, his family, turning up just for him. But this time, he found his emotions leaning more on the side of nervous excitement rather than all-consuming dread. “I mean, It’s been a minute.” 

“You’re sure?” Ice asked seriously, rubbing Pete’s back reassuringly. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.” 

Pete ducked his head, a small smile spreading across his face as, for the first time since this whole miscommunication came to light, and before that really, something seemed to settle inside of him. Some knot of tension that had been there for so long that he’d just learned to live with it, seemed to ease just the littlest bit. He did not doubt, for a second, that if he decided to leave now, Ice and Mav (and Tom) would cover for him, would back him up and stand in his corner. Whether they needed to or not, and Pete suspected things would probably topple in the direction of ‘not’ because the others would understand.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath (like Ice had been teaching him) he lifted his head a smiled a little wide. 

“I want to,” he said. “Seriously, if I ever say no to chocolate cake I want you to assume that somebody’s stolen my face and is impersonating me.” 

“Mark that down for both of us,” Mav replied, nodding empathetically. 

“Noted,” Ice scoffed, smiling as the three of them got back to their feet. “In that case, we should probably get back. Tom said he’d try to keep them all in one place to give us a moment alone but the fact that he seems to have managed it is making me nervous.” 

Pete snickered as Mav shot him an amused grin, before they both followed Ice back to the beach. It turned out the old man may have been right to worry. 

“In my defence,” Tom drawled as he jogged over to meet them. “I didn’t expect them all to lose their minds.” 

Pete felt like that was a pretty accurate description for the mayhem they’d just walked into. Almost all the daggers and a few of the flyboys were shouting, waving their arms about, jabbing fingers in faces or, in Fanboy’s case, cackling rather manically. And those that weren’t seemed content to either enjoy the show or stoke the fires all the more. It was pandemonium. 

“What did you do?” Ice sighed as they drew closer. 

Tom shrugged. 

“I casually mentioned that Pete and I watched Die Hard for the first time, and asked what other Christmas movies we should watch. And, well...” 

“IT’S SET ON CHRISTMAS EVE, BAGMAN!!! HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS DO YOU NEED IT?!” 

“THAT’S ALL YOU’VE GOT! IT’S AN ACTION MOVIE-”

“ON CHRISTMAS EVE!” 

“OH MY GOD! SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?!!” 

“Well, it did distract them,” Ice replied, arching a brow as he took it all in. “They’re going to go full Lord of the Flies any moment now, but it worked.” 

Tom grinned, before slinging an arm around Pete’s shoulders and drawling, “Wanna make it worse?”

“You’ve been a terrible influence on him,” Ice sighed, shooting Mav a despairing glance as Pete laughed softly and shrugged. 

“Sure.”

Tom winked before calling over the noise, “Alright, maybe Die Hard can go one way or the other-”

“NO IT CAN’T,” Jake and Nat hollered in unison, before immediately shooting each other disgusted glares. 

“But surely we can all agree that Nightmare before Christmas-” 

And they were off again, with renewed vigour and with previous alliances suddenly shattered. 

Pete laughed as he took it all in. Tom’s arm around his shoulders; Mav and Ice squeezing his arm and ruffling his hair respectively as they walked by to try and reign in the chaos; Rooster and Hangman each elbowing their way through the crowd, hollering for him to back them up. 

The fears were still there, bubbling away beneath the surface. Pete felt that they probably always would. Allowing himself to stay this attached, to actually believe that maybe this time, just this once, things truly would turn out different… it was risky. Frankly it was downright dangerous. 

“Right, enough of this!!” Rooster hollered over the noise. “Let’s settle this properly.” 

“Agreed,” Jake replied, nodding firmly. “Dogfight football. I bags the babies.” 

“What?!” 

“You can’t take both of them!”

“Can. Did. Pete, Tom, come on.” 

Sometimes, the risks were worth taking. And, well, he’d always liked to think he was a little dangerous.

#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #time warp au #art

[little-cereal-draws]

ok i see everyone's "ballister and ambrosius as nimona's parents" stuff but i'm going to raise you this

Ballister and Dr. Blitzmeyer as nimona's parents

I know there's the Gay Dad au sanctifying ambrosis as nimona's dad but he seems to get frustrated with Nimona more frequently than Ballister and I kinda got the sense that adopting her was mostly Bal's choice. Don't get me wrong, ambrosius has moments where he enjoys himself and he loves her, but I don't think he's thrilled abt the idea of her being here forever. He gives "good at babysitting but needs to give the child back at a certain point" vibes and obviously he can't do that when it's his kid

However in the Everything Is Fine au (the one where they all live in the cabin in the woods) Blitzmeyer is Nimona's guardian and they move from the city to the woods together, eventually moving in w Bal and Ambrosius.

Besides this au I don't think Blitzmeyer and Nimona ever interact, but I thought it was very interesting how the one time they do, she's also Nimona's guardian (I believe that's the word ND Stevenson uses, not "parent.") Already in this one picture, they look happier than Ambrosius did lol

I'm sure movie ambrosius would be much more willing to try and get to know nimona but what if the sticking point is with her this time? She can't get over what he did to both her and Bal, he reminds her too much of Gloreth, she's still wary of anyone that was that ingrained in the institute, and a million other things. She knows he's really trying and feels bad about everything but bc of all she's been through, she's not quick to trust people who betrayed her. Especially if she's only had bad interactions with them until this point. She avoids/shuts down his attempts to connect with her and is generally closed off and angry when he's there. It's like a kid hating their new stepparent lol Both Bal and Ambrosius know it's nothing personal, just the defense mechanism that's kept her safe from people like ambrosius for so long, but it still hurts. Eventually, he gives up trying to reach out to her and figures maybe she'll come to him or maybe they just won't be as close as he hoped.

Now, Bal's weird science friend is someone more Nimona's speed lol Blitzmeyer has somehow remained almost completely immune to institute propaganda, doesn't really care abt breaking things (the law included) if it can further her work in some way, and is just kooky enough to appeal to Nimona. She lets nimona help in the lab and doesn't mind the million questions she asks because that's just another opportunity to talk abt her work. They go on some adventures getting stuff for Blitzmeyer's experiments and really bond. Eventually they become pretty close and Nimona frequently goes out of her way to see Blitzmeyer.

One night late in the lab, Bal mentions that Nimona really likes her and Dr Blitzmeyer is like "really? no, not that much." And Bal's like "no, really that much. About as much as she likes me actually." And then with creeping awareness they both slowly look at each other with the realization that they're co-parenting now and actually have been for a while. After the initial freak out, they keep going almost like normal but throw in an outing every other month or so. They'll take Nimona for ice cream or some other casual thing and she's none the wiser that they've figured her out. One night as they were coming home from a movie or smth Nimona says, "I'm so glad we did this, I love spending time with my two favorite people." Nimona keeps walking but they have to stop to silently freak out to each other a bit lol

The only problem is that they frequently get mistaken for a nuclear family on these outings. And it doesn't help that Bal and Blitzmeyer often refer to each other as "my partner." (They open a lab together at the end of the comic and I think they would as well after the movie, so they are literally business partners and lab partners. But I like to hc them in a queer platonic relationship as well, so the word "partner" has a double meaning here. Ambrosius is Bal's romantic partner and Blitzmeyer is his platonic partner. They all talked abt it, it's all good.) Every time this happens though, Bal has to explain that they're just friends and he actually has a husband back at home. Some people go "ok, 'just friends,' sure. wink wink nudge nudge ;)" or "ok... does your husband know...? That you... and her...? ok, ok." It makes Bal angry when this happens but neither him or Blitzmeyer cares enough to actually do anything about it. Nimona just laughs at the stranger's confusion at their unconventional family.

Anyway, they're just two friends who somehow found themselves raising a 1000 year old shapeshifter together lol Ambrosius is disappointed Nimona didn't like him as much as he hoped but now he can just stay home and vibe lol

#it's like a Laszlo Guillermo and Nadja situation when it came to raising baby colin. nadja wasn't involved at all and colin was their kid #nimona #nimona headcanon #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #meredith blitzmeyer #dr blitzmeyer #nimona comic

[rhoorl]

Delta Landscaping

Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills

It's here.

Series Summary: In this Triple Frontier AU, the boys start a landscaping business post-Colombia.  

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: As much as we want to get to the thirst, there is some setup we need to do.

A/N: I first have to thank the amazing @goodwithcheese because, without The Layover, this idea would not have come to life. This entire concept was born from a scene in one of her chapters.  This AU stays true to cannon in some aspects (Tom is dead y'all) and not in others (the boys kept some of the money and Frankie does not have a kid). There is a main storyline, but also opportunities for extras/drabbles/asks … maybe a guest post or spin-off? I've included some Easter eggs and jokes throughout, some more obvious than others. From its conception this has been a group project, so let’s keep that energy going! Finally, a big thank you to @gemmahale (our Technical Supervisor for all things plants and protective wear) and @trulybetty (the creator of our logo) for listening to my ramblings and for their advice and encouragement along the way! @patti7dc also contributed a hilarious idea for a commercial that had me cracking up.

Ok enough of my rambling, on with the show…(I hope you like it!)

There's something kind of magical about when an idea finally comes together in your mind. Different thoughts, images, and words swim around in your head, some of them unconsciously, until they finally coalesce in the depths of your brain and bubble up. Going from abstract to clear and defined.

Benny had been grappling with forming an idea for months. It was right there, he could feel it. But it frustrated him because it never came together the right way. 

Nine months earlier

In the immediate aftermath of Colombia, the Delta Force boys tried to process what happened, each in their own way. Santiago took off for a few months traveling on his own, finding solace in discovering new places. Frankie came back with a renewed focus to get his life together, talking to a therapist Will recommended to him and going to weekly meetings. The more quiet and reserved one of the group, Will continued to find ways to help other veterans. He volunteered at the local VA and shuttled veterans to and from medical appointments. He found driving to be soothing for him – having a set path, a direction to go in, and accomplishing something. Sometimes his passengers wanted to talk, sometimes they didn’t. He was comfortable either way.

And then there was Benny. He needed to keep his body in motion to try and silence the whirl that went on in his head. Fighting helped. He continued training, getting booked for local fights in Tampa, sometimes making it over to Orlando or as far as Jacksonville. At first, it helped him numb some of the pain. He felt like dealing with physical injuries was easier than his mental or emotional ones.

When he wasn't fighting or training, he found himself returning to a love he had as a kid – drawing. At first, he didn't really draw anything in particular, just doodles. But eventually, his doodles started to form beautiful landscapes and vistas…pulling inspiration from places he had seen during his time in the service. The activity brought him a sense of calm, using his hands to concentrate and make something. It didn't have to be perfect or beautiful, it just was.

Months passed and the guys just sort of existed in this newfound reality. None of them really talked about Colombia to each other, leaving the hurt and pain largely unspoken. Benny, Will, and Frankie would see each other often throughout the week. Santiago would FaceTime occasionally depending on where he was in the world. Although the guys kept some of the money from their mission, none of them had really spent it. Benny never did end up buying that Ferrari.

One day while driving back home to the apartment he shared with his brother, Will decided to take a detour to drive through a few different neighborhoods. He and Benny tossed around the idea of buying a house together, even going so far as visiting some open houses together to check things out.

This neighborhood, Torrey Hills, was particularly beautiful, with a palm tree-lined entrance and expansive water fountain greeting you on the drive in. Will aimlessly drove around taking in the Mediterranean-style architecture. Lots of two-story homes, stucco and white brick, raw iron and metalwork. There were some ranch-style homes sprinkled throughout as well. He noticed one in particular that had a for sale sign – 319 Mulefall Court.

Parked on the street, he grabs his phone to do some quick research. He checks on the price of the house first, a lot lower than he was expecting just based on the looks of the neighborhood, which he confirms once he looked up some recently sold homes nearby.

"What's wrong with you?" He mumbled toward the house, wondering why it was valued so much lower than everything around it.

The housing market in Tampa was pretty competitive, something Will and Benny had already realized. Oftentimes by the time they found a house they both liked it was already under contract or had multiple offers. They conveniently kept the fact that they could pay cash for literally any house they wanted from their realtor; they wanted the house they chose to be special.

Will continued looking over the specs of the house. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. Two-car garage. Pool. Pretty spacious backyard from the photos and from what he could see from the street. A beautiful, old oak tree in the front yard. He noticed there weren't too many photos of the interior of the house or much of a description. 

Normally, he would text a listing to Benny to get his thoughts, but this time he went straight to calling the realtor’s number on the sign. The realtor, Ethan, picked up and was a bit surprised someone wanted to talk to him about that property. It had been sitting for a couple of months without an offer, so Ethan was eager to set up a showing for the next day.

When he arrived home, Will saw Benny sitting at their kitchen table, head down over his notebook with a pencil in hand.

“Hey man, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing just got an idea for something,” Benny said, not looking up.

Will heads to the refrigerator to pull out a beer, grabbing one for his brother as he goes to sit down in the chair across from him.

“D’you have a good day?” Benny asks, putting down his pencil and grabbing the beer from Will.

“Yea, Mr. Jacobs seems to be doing better.” Will pauses to take a swig of his beer. “So…I saw a house today.”

“What?”

“Well, from the outside. I have a showing tomorrow morning if you want to go.”

“Yea, where is it?”

“You know that Torrey Hills neighborhood? It’s in there.”

“Wooo, that neighborhood is nice! Are you sure you want to go all fancy?” 

“It is a nice neighborhood for sure, it seems quiet. This place looks like it needs … some work.”

“How much work?” Benny is a bit skeptical of what his brother may be getting them into, but trusts that Will wouldn’t do anything too rash. 

“It’s going to be a project.”

“A project? 

“Yea. The house has been sitting for a couple of months,” he said as he fished out his phone from his back pocket, pulled up the listing, and handed it over to Benny. “Look, I figure we go in and take a look to see how bad it is. You know how much shit we built with Dad back in the day. We can even call Joel to see if he thinks it's doable for us to fix it up ourselves.”

Benny looks up from the phone and gives a little smile as he hands the phone back, “Sure, man. Sounds good.”

Will and Benny could buy any house. But rather than buy something brand new, they wanted to buy a house they knew needed a lot of love and care. They wanted little projects they could work on, either together or by themselves. 

As the guys walked through the threshold of the house with Ethan in tow, they realized they may be biting off more than they can chew with this place.

“Shit, how long has this place been empty?” Benny asks as he looks around. 

“Well, the house was built in the ’90s and had the same owner for about 20 years before it became an Airbnb,” Ethan said as leaned on the kitchen counter. “Then, some guy bought it, trying to do some real HGTV-type shit in here. Bought it before the pandemic, but didn’t realize how much work goes into a complete flip, you know? It’s not like the TV shows. Anyway, he ended up getting in over his head with it and then the foreclosure happened. He left the place an absolute goddamn mess,” he gestured around. “The neighbors have been on my ass to get this place sold. The curb appeal is kind of bringing down the block.”

Will quietly walks around the living room, his mind working through logistics. He comes into the kitchen where Benny was checking out the cabinets and appliances.

“Ethan, can you give us a minute?” 

“Yea sure, I’ll be out in the backyard, y’all take your time,” Ethan said as he attempted to open the glass door leading out to the back porch. Struggling, he decided to head back out to the front door and unlock the fence to the backyard.

“So, what do you think?” Will asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Psh, I don’t know man, this is kind of a shit hole, right?”

“Yea, but like … we could do this. Maybe get Fish to come over and we can demo the inside. Start from scratch?”

“We should call Joel.”

Their cousin was a contractor in Texas, so he would be able to give them his honest opinion of whether or not they could do this. They ended up calling him on FaceTime so he could see what they were dealing with.

“I mean, it’s not gonna be easy or quick, but I think y’all could do it,” his low Southern drawl reverberating in the empty living room. “Plus, when you’re all done I can come out and inspect it for you. Sarah has been bugging me about taking her to Disney,” he laughed.

“Oh hell yea, that would be awesome!” Benny lit up starting to see how it could all come together based on Joel’s suggestions.

Will hadn’t seen his brother get this excited about something in a while. 

“Ok, Joel. We’ll talk to you soon … tell Tommy and Sarah we say hi.”

“Later guys.”

Hanging up and looking back at Benny, who still had a smile on his face, Will clears his throat. 

“So, what do you think? Should we do it?”

“You already know what I’m going to say!”

“Alright, let’s go talk to Ethan,” Will says motioning to the front door. 

Coming out of the front door, they head out around the right side of the house, picking their feet up high to walk through the overgrown grass and weeds. 

“This fence looks a little rough,” Benny observed, jiggling one of the loose boards.

“Hey, stop that! Don’t fucking pull it out.”

“....that’s what she said?” Benny laughs.

Will rolls his eyes, slapping his brother on the chest. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.”

As they head back, they notice the pool. Ethan was standing at the edge looking at his phone. He hears them traipsing through the overgrowth and turns around, “Hey guys, what do you think?”

“Well, it’s going to need a lot of work, that’s for sure, but, we want to make an offer.”

“Shit, really? I mean … cool. Yea ok, I’ll draw something up and send it over.” 

Giving them both a handshake, the men start to walk back to the front. Benny pulls out his phone taking a few photos of the backyard and the front as they make their way back to Will’s Jeep. 

Ethan gives them one final wave before pulling out of the driveway and heading out.

Will and Benny walk up to the driveway and give one final look at the house, Benny snapping a few more photos. They hear someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around they see a woman, around their age, walking a corgi.

“You guys going to buy that?” she nodded towards the house.

“Uh, yea we’re thinking about it,” Will said cautiously while Benny bounded past his brother to crouch down to pet the dog.

“Aw man, I love corgis!”

“Ha, thanks, he loves people so you’re making his day. My name is Megan, that's Bucky.” She extended her hand to shake Will’s first, looking down at Benny who got back up. Removing his backward baseball cap and putting it in his left hand to shake her hand.

“I live over there, the blue two-story with the basketball hoop,” she says pointing over to a house a few doors down and across the street. 

“Do you play basketball?” Benny asks, reaching back down to give the dog some belly scratches.

“No, but my son does.” She reaches up to brush some hair out of her face and the boys both notice the huge diamond on her finger. 

“What’s the neighborhood like?” Will could tell it was a nice neighborhood, but still wanted to do the proper reconnaissance. 

“Oh, it’s pretty quiet. A few families, but some singles as well,” she eyes them both up and down. “You have some nice neighbors on both sides of you. We’ve been trying to have more events together, block parties, and stuff. Hopefully, you boys can fix up this piece of shit and we can all come over,” she smiles tilting her chin up at the house.

“Yea, well that’s the goal.” Benny looked up smiling, continuing to play with the dog.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around hopefully.” She waves and continues her walk.

Later that night, Will was sitting in the living room playing some zombie video game when he noticed Benny head back over to his chair at the dining room table, notebook, and pencil in tow. Except this time Benny had some colored pencils with him too. Will saw his brother prop up his phone, using it as a reference for whatever he was drawing. A small smile on his face as he got to work.

The next month was busy getting everything together with the realtors. During that time, Santiago returned from his travels, wanting a bit more stability than the nomad life. He and Frankie had been helping the brothers pack.

Closing day comes and before they go in to sign the papers, Will pulls out his phone.

WILL: Headed in now to close on the house…should have the keys by 5. You guys want to come over and check it out?

FRANKIE: Yea, Pope and I can head over after I get out of work.  

BENNY: Sweet, see you guys later. Bring beer!

“Goddamn, my fucking hand hurts,” Benny puts his pen down and massages his hand. “I didn’t realize we had to sign so much shit.”

“What did you think, we would sign one paper? We’re buying a house.” Will chuckles.

The boys waited approximately one day before fully starting Operation Bachelor Pad, as Benny put it. Will continued to lean on Joel’s advice about what materials to buy and avoid and techniques to use. Joel even sent them a new set of power tools as a housewarming gift. 

The sweltering weather made working outside on the yard a bit of a hassle, but one of Will’s first orders of business was to clean up the front so it wasn’t such an eyesore to the neighbors. Between the four of them, they were able to knock it out rather quickly. Will mowed the grass, while Frankie meticulously edged. Being the tallest of the group, Benny worked on pulling leaves out of the gutters with Santi’s help. They pulled weeds and removed a couple of dead shrubs. When they were all done, the boys sat in some folding chairs in the driveway drinking from their bottles of water.

“It’s so fucking hot out,” Frankie said as he took his hat off, wiped his forehead and combed his hair with his hand, before returning his hat to his head.

“How am I this sweaty?” Benny grunted as he peeled off his T-shirt, resting it on the back of his chair.

“What, you trying to give a show to all of the housewives?” Santiago teased him.

“Fuck off, it’s hot. If the pool wasn’t such a goddamn disaster I would jump in there,” Benny laughed.

Will looked up and saw Megan walking towards them holding a basket.

“Hey boys,” she smiled.

“Hey Megan,” Will got up, meeting her at the front of the driveway. “What’s this?”

“Where’s the corgi?” Benny yelled. Will turns around to glare at him. “Just kidding, hi Mrs. Megan!”

“Oh my god, Benjamin, please do not call me Mrs. It makes me feel old,” she chuckles. “Here, I wanted to bring something by, not sure how stocked your fridge is yet and I saw you had some friends over.” She nodded to the group behind Will.

Handing over the basket, Will sees she had arranged a few bottles of water and Gatorade, along with some homemade cookies and a gift card to a pizza place. 

“Wow, thank you, this is so nice,” Will smiled. By this point, Benny had walked up to see what was in the basket too. 

“Nice, this is awesome!” he said, pulling out one of the cookies and stuffing it in his mouth. He noticed Megan giving him a quick up and down, so he stood a little taller. “This is fucking amazing. Are you a cook or something?”

“Baker. And no, not professionally or anything. I just dabble.”

“Well, you can dabble with us anyti-” he chokes as Will hit him in the side of the stomach. “Shit. I, uh, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry,” he looked down bashfully. 

“I know what you meant, all good,” she laughs. “Well, I should be heading out.”

“See ya later!” Benny waved, grabbing one more cookie from the basket before bouncing back towards the chair. 

“So, are all of your neighbors hot?” Santiago asked with an arched eyebrow. “May need to move in here myself.”

“Fuck off, Pope. She’s nice. She’s actually one of the first people that has come by to say anything.”

It was so fucking hot outside. Florida summers were no joke. As a result, the boys used the next few months to completely renovate the inside of the house. They installed new countertops in the kitchen, laid down hardwood floors, upgraded nearly every appliance or fixture in the place, and fixed the glass sliding door to the back porch. As the months went on, the house became a source of their collective pride and joy; they reveled in their handiwork.

Megan would come by every so often to say hi. She introduced the guys to a few other neighbors and it felt like they were starting to develop a home base. Even though Frankie and Santiago didn’t officially live there, they may as well because they were over all the time, even when Will and Benny were gone.

As the weather got cooler, by Florida standards, the boys decided to focus on the outside of the house. 

One day as they were sitting around watching a football game on a lazy Sunday, Benny got up and headed out of the living room with a purpose.

“Where the fuck is he going?” Santiago looked over the couch to where Benny ran off to.

“Who knows, the kid has been really focused on something and I don’t know what it is,” Will said.

“Ok! I got it!” Benny ran back into the room with his notebook and a pencil in tow.

The other three looked at him with confused looks.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with the yard, but I think I finally figured it out. This was the missing piece.” He quickly scribbled some things down and turned his notebook around.

“What are we supposed to be looking at Ben?” Will asked, confused and trying to read what Benny’s chicken scratch said. 

“Ok, look,” Benny sat in the middle of the couch, Will and Frankie on either side and Santiago came over to sit on the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder.

“Let’s start in front. We need to replace the fence on both sides and put in a swing gate, that’s easy. I’m thinking we do some flower beds here in the front. I haven’t decided what kind of flowers yet. But leading from the front porch over to the fence we’ll put some flagstone pavers down. Yea, I think that’ll look nice. Oh, and a couple of planted pots here in the front,” he motioned to circles he drew on either side of the door.”

He keeps rambling as the other three look at each other, Benny oblivious to them.

“Oh and then on the left side of the house, I’m thinking some permeable pavers so that the water can drain, will help us not have standing water to avoid excess mosquitos and algae and shit. That side of the fence is bigger so we can easily get the lawn mower into the backyard that way and not fuck up the grass as much.”

Moving the paper closer, he points to the left side of the paper. “Ok, so once we get into the backyard, I think we line it with some raised flower beds. Near the pool, we’ll have some more perennials. We’ll add some more planted pots on the porch. Maybe some string lights or something.”

“And then this is what finally came together!” he smiled pointing to the back right of his drawing. “I think … wait for it … we build a gazebo thing.”

“Isn’t that called a pergola?” Santiago asked.

“Same shit. They’ll be a structure back there. With some shrubs up to the fence line. We can put a palm tree out there, some more flagstone pavers, and then we include a little water fountain in one of the perennial beds here.” 

When he finished, he leaned back on the couch and exhaled, pleased with himself and excited that his idea finally came together.

“So that’s what you’ve been working on, huh?” Will smirked.

“Yea man, I … I don’t know. Ever since we came here for the first time I had this … vision. Like, I could see it, but I couldn’t. So I’ve been working on different designs.” Benny paged through his notebook showing numerous mockups of their backyard.

“Holy shit, Ben, that’s awesome,” Frankie looked over at Benny. “But what if you put a grass bed over here by the utilities.” 

“Yea … yea, that could work Fish!”

Over the next few weeks, Benny and Frankie continued to tinker with the design, sending Will and Santiago out on Home Depot runs to get things off their list. 

As they did working on the interior of the house, they found themselves opening up to each other as they worked, finding that keeping their hands and bodies busy gave their minds time to process.

And they worked hard, completely rejuvenating the look of the house both from the inside and outside, so much so that the neighbors took notice. 

Megan was the first to come over to ask if the guys could look at her lawn. Benny made a few easy suggestions, offering to fix it up on weekends. Then another neighbor and another neighbor. Before they knew it, the boys had worked on nearly every house on their block, which helped them get to know everyone.

One night as the boys were hanging out in the backyard, Benny came up with another idea. 

"Ok, hear me out," as he opened the cooler to grab beers for everyone. 

Frankie was by the grill and turned around to peer over at Benny. "What Benjamin? What job did you sign us up for now?" chuckling as he took a swig of the beer Benny handed him.

"Landscaping."

Cocking his head to the side, Santiago repeats back matter-of-factly, "Landscaping."

"Like what, do it professionally or something?" Frankie laughs.

Benny looks over at Will who was observing, taking it all in.

"Oh come on! Look at what we did with this place," gesturing around to the backyard. 

They all had to admit they did a beautiful job with the backyard. It has been almost therapeutic for them, working on this house together. 

“We’ve already been doing it! Megan’s lawn. Fish, you had a great idea for Melissa and Derek’s backyard, they fucking loved what you and Pope did with the place. We … we could do this for other people. Figure out how to make shit better.” He pulled his cap off, brushing his hair.

Although the other three had always seen Benny as the little brother, bouncing off the walls with energy, they had to admit he had a newfound focus when it came to the projects around the house. His brain was crawling with ideas. Plus, they were having fun working on projects for their neighbors. They had gotten very close to some of them.

"This could be a legit business for us. I even have a name I came up with. Wait for it…Delta Landscaping!" He beamed, clearly proud of himself and waiting for the guy's reaction.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first installment of this series! Seriously thank you to everyone who has sent me a message or a comment in the lead-up to this. I’ve had so much fun interacting with all of you and it has been a bright spot in my days for sure.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!!

#delta landscaping #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier au