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ja3yun · 3 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything.

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did.

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever.

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.”

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off.

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?”

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.”

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move.

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?”

Park Sunghoon.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him.

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present.

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together.

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.”

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs.

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.”

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line.

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.”

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees.

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be.

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her.

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.”

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this.

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?”

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens.

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.”

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?”

He’s flabbergasted.

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you? You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.” It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates.

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all.

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face.

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins.

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide.

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!”

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.”

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.”

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon.

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?”

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty.

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy?

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?”

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.”

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind.

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.”

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes.

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory.

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.”

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.”

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy.

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins.

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?”

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?”

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.”

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.”

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you.

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis.

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise.

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him.

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?”

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?”

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over.

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you.

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“An avoider?”

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.”

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself, “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.”

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.”

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?”

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line.

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen.

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.”

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever.

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression.

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones.

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest.

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.”

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this.

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?”

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time." Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was.

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly.

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

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#enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha fluff #sunghoon x reader

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shadesoflsk · 3 months

Text

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it.

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?”

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now?

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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hotyanderedaddies · 2 months

Note

Hey so what about naga yandere? That's been watching reptile obsessed darling from afar waiting for the right moment to pounce

Yandere Naga Loves to Watch Ophidiophobic You

**Ophidiophobia: intense and overwhelming fear of snakes

[Yandere! Naga x GN! Ophidiophobic! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Daddy wakes up extra early in the morning so that he can slither out of his den and towards the edge of the forest, his green eyes honing in on a certain building that is within his view.

The window upstairs to the far left was lit up from the bedroom light, signifying that you were awake and getting ready for the day.

Daddy's heart raced in his chest as he listened to the heavenly noises of you humming to yourself as you showered and dressed up into your school uniform. And once you were all ready, you skipped out of the front door and started to walk to school.

As soon as his eyes landed on you, Daddy's face stretched out into a wide, cadaverous grin, his forked tongue flicking out of his mouth so that he could taste your scent.

"Good morning, Darling," he whispered, low enough so that you couldn't hear him from his hidden position, "today's going to be a good day."

He knew this too, because your backpack was packed a little more than usual, bulging out with your extra change of clothes because your Biology class was taking an overnight field trip to the local national forest where you'd be spending the night in the woods... which was in Daddy's territory.

"Soon," he promised you.

The very first time that Daddy had laid eyes on you, he'd been searching for a meal, and you had been wondering along one of the trails in the woods to take pictures of local wildlife for a class project.

He'd totally planned on eating you when he'd caught sight of your cute face, making him freeze in his hiding spot behind the trees. Instead of devouring you, he'd curiously watched as you wandered around the woods, treating nature with a sense of whimsy and respect, earning his devotion.

He'd immediately loved that you were a kindhearted soul and that you were a smol who was very adorable, and he'd wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and carry you off to his den to be all his.

There was just one tiny issue:

Daddy is a naga, and whereas his human half is very handsome by most standards and he looks very strong and gorgeously rugged, his lower half is that of a gigantic serpent that slithers silently about the woods as he stalks his prey. And you're a human who's very--

"AHHH! A snake!" you shrieked as soon as you caught sight of the tiny field snake that was about the size of a child's index finger. You took off sprinting down the road, flailing your arms wildly as you desperately tried to put as much distance between you and the baby snake as possible.

The snake looked up at Daddy confused, and he just shrugged at it, knowing that it meant no harm.

But still, Daddy was extremely disappointed that the love of his life has a phobia of snakes.

Granted this definitely was a damper on your relationship, Daddy refused to let you go. He made sure to watch you every chance he got, keeping a protective eye on you at all times. He could easily see your house from the forest, and made sure to slither around it in the dark, marking it with his scent so that other creatures knew that you were off limits.

He always followed you whenever you walked to school, hissing ferociously at any animal that was stupid enough to even think about charging at you.

You're his Darling, and Daddy can't wait until the two of you can finally be together.

But he's getting really impatient.

Which was why he was over the moon about your overnight school trip.

As the day progressed and you spent time in the forest with your classmates, Daddy made sure to be as close as he could. The park ranger/tour guide made things difficult, but he still managed to keep his distance while maintaining sight of you. You eagerly took in every word that you could on your trip, happily learning all about nature and the creatures that live in it.

Daddy made a mental note to take you on daily trips through the forest so that he can show you all the sights, after he steals you away.

As the day turns into night, Daddy watches as everyone go their cabins.

It's quiet for a while until he hears a little creaking emanating from your cabin, and the door swings open as you tiptoe out. You head towards the bathroom cabin that is at the end of the row of tiny cabins. There's no one else outside either.

Daddy's smile stretches out even more as he realizes that this is his chance. He slithers to the bathroom cabin and quietly waits by the door for you to exit.

"Gotcha," Daddy gleefully whispers the second you step foot outside.

He pounces and wraps his snake half around you, trapping your limbs at you side. With his human arms, he tightly wraps them around you, securing a tight hand over your mouth.

You start to panic over the feeling of a strong figure around you, but the panic turns into sheer horror as soon as you feel the smooth, scaly quality to the figure. You try to look downward, but it's really dark, preventing you from seeing much. Yet, the tightening squeezing sensation forces your imagination into overdrive and all you can think of is the most terrifying thing in the world:

Snake.

You try to thrash about as much as you can, desperate to get free. But it's useless.

Daddy is much, much stronger than you.

"Shh," Daddy coos in you ear. "It's okay, Darling. Daddy won't hurt you. Daddy's just gonna take you home with him. Okay?"

He doesn't wait for your answer, and instead starts to slither off into the dark forest at a high speed, his prize trapped tightly in his clutches.

Daddy has you, and he's never ever going to let you go.

You'll learn to love snakes, he'll make sure of it.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #asks #naga #yandere naga #naga x you #naga x reader #yandere naga x reader #yandere monster #yandere naga x you

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lovinpelova · 2 months

Text

you've been missed | j. fleming

summary; jessie feels a bit more lonely than usual, so she makes sure you get home earlier. [SMUT]

🎵 planez - jeremih

jessie hates being clingy. she hates feeling like she's smothering you with her presence and certainly doesn't want to annoy you, although you assure her you love her when she's clingy she still refuses to let herself go in fear of causing an argument. this morning she had a day off and you didn't, arsenal having a different schedule to chelsea meant that you would wake up to her lips scattered across your neck and hips mindlessly grinding into yours, as soon as her hands guided your legs to spread open wider for her and your arms pulled her closer an alarm went off signalling you had to get ready for training. as much as you didn't want to leave already due to jessie being alone all day, you definitely didn't want to go now that jessie was whining into your ear begging you not to go.

with difficulty you gave her one final kiss and ignored her pleads for you to stay, gently pushing her off you and laughing at the exaggerated groan she let out as you started to get ready for the day. before you headed out to your car you quickly ran back into your bedroom where jessie was laying, watching her eyes light up with expectation and feeling a smile against your lips when you kissed her, only to be met with another groan when you pulled away and said goodbye. as soon as you got to arsenal training grounds your phone went off with a notification from jessie.

jeff🫶🏼

missing you madly already princess :(

can't wait for you to get home

you made quick work of responding to her, fully aware that she texted you fifteen minutes after you left because she knew you'd be at training by now.

you

i'll be home before you know it baby <3

training had been light from the beginning, a warmup followed by some sprints and agility exercises meant you wouldn't be as tired as if you were in the gym on weights, jonas assigning you all partners during a water break and running you through the next drill he'd decided on. you were paired up with vic thankfully, the midfielder being one of your closest friends due to being the same age and playing in the same position, so you completed the drill with ease whilst gossiping about all the latest drama you wanted to fill each other in on.

before you knew it training was over two and a half hours later, the time now being just past midday after your cooldown was completed. you walked back to the changing rooms with leah, lotte and alessia talking about how you were gutted the arnold clark cup was cancelled this year due to the nations league finals, all of you being international teammates since you were young meaning you had a special bond. you'd played up in the youth groups a couple times so you had met leah before alessia and lotte decided to move to north carolina with lois, so when the word came out arsenal was interested in you she was the first person to persuade you into joining.

you packed up your things and grabbed your phone, saying goodbye to the girls whilst walking towards your car and checking through the notifications you'd recieved. scrolling through them all you were unbothered as you sat in the drivers seat of your car, looking to see if jessie had texted you again and to your luck she had - many times. you smiled to yourself at the thought of what she may have texted you, saying how much she missed you and couldn't wait for you to get home again, normally sending you pictures of the food she'd make for herself and claiming she wished you were there to share it with her but your smile dropped when you read through them. you looked around the parking lot to see if anyone was nearby and able to look at your phone, knowing no one would go to that level of snooping but being careful anyways due to the obvious nature of jessies messages.

jeff🫶🏼

missing you so badly babygirl

can't stop thinking about you and what we'd be doing right now if your alarm didn't interrupt us

been wanting you so much all morning since you left

*video attachment*

wish you were here princess. can't wait for you to get home.

you quickly checked your bluetooth to see if you were connected to your car and turned it off just in case, pressing play on the video that gave you no indication as to what it was due to the black screen that was on the cover. once the video loaded your jaw dropped slightly and your eyes were glued to the screen, watching in awe of what you were seeing and feeling shamefully turned on. she had sent it five minutes ago, so there was no doubt she was still doing it at that current moment without you there to witness it.

jessie was recording herself shirtless lying down on your shared bed from a low angle, revealing the strap she often wore as she spat into her hand and began rubbing it over the strap for lubrication, making sure you could see when she'd push it down further to hit against her clit as she moaned lowly at the friction. she looked down at the camera with her bottom lip between her teeth and hooded eyes, speeding up her hands movements to jerk off the strap at a wild pace as she threw her head back and let out an audible groan, cursing in pleasure whilst your eyes trailed to her biceps and hand. you couldn't tear your eyes away from the veins that bulged out, only being pulled out of your daydream by jessie saying your name.

"y/n,"

she whimpered out as your thighs clenched together, loving the way she sounded so desperate. her moans picked up in frequency and volume alongside the speed of her hand, going at an inhumane rate whilst her hips began to buck up the same way they would if you were riding her, your imagination going wild at the thought of her fucking up into you and pulling your hips down to slam into hers as she grunted in effort. you closed your eyes for a moment to calm yourself down, unsuccessful in doing so when you opened them again and heard her moans growing wilder with her hips now bucking animalistically into her hand.

"fuck babygirl i'm gonna cum! just like that, keep goin'! gonna cum all inside of you- fuck!"

her thighs and abs flexed as her hips paused mid-air, hand stuck around the base of the strap whilst she let out the most filthy moans you'd ever heard, hips beginning to move again in deep thrusts as she rode out her high for your viewing pleasure. whilst she was gaining her breath back she looked down at the camera with a smirk, cutting the video off after winking cheekily obviously knowing it would have riled you up. she wasn't wrong either, you threw your phone onto the passenger seat and quickly began driving home, the fifteen minutes feeling like fifteen hours until you finally got to your house.

you basically ran out the car and left everything but your keys behind, locking it whilst hurriedly opening the front door and kicking your shoes off as you shut it behind you, immediately perking your ears up at the sound of jessie moaning out your name. storming through the house and opening your bedroom door to see your girlfriend still doing what she was in the video, only this time with her eyes on yours as she smiled widely at the sight of you back home. her hand stopped its movements whilst you straddled her, pulling her into a heated kiss with your hands tugging at her hair, pulling her head back as she gasped at the roughness of it.

"you're so dirty."

"can you blame me when i've got a girlfriend as hot as you?"

the canadian rolled you over onto your back and started grinding her hips into yours, relishing in the moan you let out before tugging off your shirt hurriedly.

"i was gonna fuck you so good this morning, and then your stupid fucking alarm went off."

she mumbled into your neck whilst biting at your pulse point, desperately moving her hips as she whined and tugged your training shorts down, your underwear following as you wrapped your legs around her waist to pull her closer. she dipped a finger into your heat as her lips made their mark on your chest, the canadian too eager to remove your bra right now as she groaned at the feeling of you finally underneath her.

"fuck, missed this pretty pussy."

she mumbled whilst looking down at her finger moving in and out of you slowly, jaw hanging open with desire written over her face once she heard you softly moan her name. the midfielder bit her lip as she carefully pushed in another finger to stretch you out carefully, your nails digging into her shoulders whilst her body arched into yours at the pain.

"jess, need you. want more."

you pulled her into a deep kiss as she smirked against your lips, a couple more thrusts from her fingers following.

"alright baby, just be patient. you know i always have to stretch you out before you get my cock. don't wanna hurt you."

"want it now jessie, please."

you begged whilst looking into her eyes desperately, ignoring the sly smirk she still wore and whining at the loss of her fingers. the canadian watched you close your eyes as she grabbed the strap and teased the head through your arousal, soaking it before she slapped it against your clit playfully to pull a needy moan from you, nails digging into the back of her neck whilst you pulled her in for another kiss.

"nuh-uh, i wanna see how good i fill you up baby. go on, look."

she urged you on and smiled cockily when you looked down between your legs, herself doing the same as she pushed the strap into you, breathing growing heavier whilst her eyes remained fixated on how you adjusted to her size with your legs spreading open wider for her.

"fuck baby,"

she whined, pushing her hips forward until she was bottomed out inside of you and relishing in the groan you let out at her size.

"too big for you?"

jessie teased, knowing you could take it but were still adjusting due to how eagerly she'd moved to be fully inside of you.

"look so pretty babygirl. can't wait to make you cum on my cock- god."

"jessie- move baby, i need you to fuck me."

the canadian groaned at your words and pulled her hips back until only the tip was inside of you, pushing back in slowly to watch the obscene way you stretched around her thick strap with a shameless moan. your nails dug into her back with your legs tightening around her waist, her thrusts picking up in force and speed to make your body shift with each movement as the headboard began hitting against the wall, the woman fucking you so wildly she was moving the entire bed with her hips alone.

the sound of jessie grunting into your ear as she mercilessly pounded into you was driving you mad, an occasional whimper making a fresh wave of arousal course through your body. you couldn't control your moans and they began to grow pornographic, jessie smiling proudly at the sounds you were letting out once she realised she was fucking you so good you were no longer able to hold back.

"fuck babe, missed you so much. need you so bad, want you to cum on my cock please please please."

the midfielder mindlessly babbled into your ear, moaning uncontrollably alongside the myriad of whimpers she was letting out, her eyes looking down to see where you were connected and how you were beginning to clench your thighs once you were getting close. she trailed a hand down to your heat and gathered some of your wetness, rubbing it over your clit frantically with her lip between her teeth in concentration, eyebrows furrowed and hips pounding into you as she moaned desperately alongside you.

she let out high-pitched moans with her head thrown back and jaw hung wide open with her eyes shut tightly, whimpers through heavy breathing with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked down at where you were connected, whines following whenever you'd moan out her name or dig your nails into her back further. you arched your body into hers with a desperate moan, jessie immediately getting the message and pushing your sports bra up so it rested above your breasts. she adjusted herself to be kneeling with your legs swung over her thighs, pulling your body up so you were chest to chest as her lips latched onto one of your breasts and free hand went to the other, leaving careless marks all over whilst she rubbed your needy clit and moaned against your skin.

"come on princess, please. need you to cum for me, please babygirl. need it now."

"jess i'm cumming baby- god that feels so good don't stop i'm gonna cum jessie!"

"that's it baby, ride my cock just like that. make yourself cum all over me, that's a good girl. oh fuck i need it so bad y/n/n you gotta cum for me baby."

you began bouncing up and down so you were pushing her strap further into yourself with each upwards thrust of her hips, your teeth sinking into her shoulder deeply as you moaned out her name and let your release wash over you. your body spasmed in her hold as she whimpered and relaxed at the feeling of you finally coming undone around her, pushing you onto your back so she could roll her hips into yours with deep thrusts as she began to moan needily into your ear. you whined at how sensitive you were and gripped her bicep tightly, watching the way sweat began to drip down her face whilst she looked down at where she was thrusting into you with her jaw hung open, hands gripping your hips possessively before she threw her head back with her eyes squeezed shut and moaned out your name after a couple more deep thrusts before gritting her teeth together in pure ecstasy.

"fuck baby, i'm cumming! yeah just like that babygirl, make me cum like that princess- holy fuck! fucking love this pussy, wanna fuck it all day god."

you watched her ride out her high with a lustful gaze, loving the way she completely lost control of herself as she finally got the release she'd been needing all day. after a while you both caught your breaths back and jessie pulled out of you carefully, throwing the strap carelessly to the side after taking it off so she could deal with it later.

"you missed me that much?"

you teased, jessie smacking your shoulder lightly as you smiled and pushed your body into her side with her arm pulling you closer, her lips kissing the top of your head gently.

"you have no idea how much i missed you today."

"i think i have a small idea on how much you missed me."

you smiled when jessie rewarded your joke with a low chuckle, arms tightening around your waist to pull you on top of her as she leaned in for a soft kiss, sighing in comfort when she felt your hands rake through her hair gently as you lulled each other to sleep with your touch.

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 10 months

Note

Hi! Big fan :) You're an environmental lecturer, right? I recently got into a debate with someone about rewilding in the UK, and the clash with farmers and agriculture. To me, this is a no-brainer - I absolutely do feel for farmers losing their livelihoods, and I think there needs to be a system to help them transition to something else, but also, the planet is dying. But you explain things well, so I wondered if you have thoughts? Particularly on the Welsh side of things. Thank you in advance!

Hah. I literally have a lecture on this. Or, well, a chunk of a lecture, anyway; so yes! I have thoughts. I'll use those notes, and stick a big reference at the end in case you want to read more

I'll talk about this specifically from the Welsh perspective, okay so:

The rewilding project in Wales is the Cambrian Wildwood, launched in 2004ish by a guy who bought an abandoned farm in the northern end of Mid Wales with the express intention of rewilding it. The aim is to convert some 7000 acres, and the initial mission statement said they'd reintroduce wolves and lynx. That's the project I'm going to talk about, because it's a great case study for how to spectacularly fuck something up (and eventually realise you've spectacularly fucked up, and do something about it.)

These are the Cambrian Mountains:

When looking at that, there are two competing viewpoints that are relevant here:

The Cambrians are ecologically depleted. Their biodiversity has crashed since the Second World War, when modern farming methods were introduced. Environmentally, there is a perception of emptiness and degradation.

The landscape is a glorious one that has been shaped by the human actions taken on it for generations, as we are a shepherding culture – culture and land are inextricably intertwined.

That's a big fundamental difference! Two people can look at that same photo, and see something diametrically opposed. But there's more lying on it, so you also need to understand the socio-political background.

Socio-Political Background

(I know! Headings! So professional)

A lot of rewilding – Cambrian Wildwood included – is taking place in areas where farming is declining for various political/socio-economic reasons, so this can be ENTIRELY FAIRLY seen as yet another threat. This goes hand in hand with rural migration and community decline, too.

In Wales, we’re mostly rural, and characterised by extensive upland livestock farming (sheep in particular). Most farms are small to medium family-run setups. ON TOP OF THAT, the vast majority of Welsh farmers are Welsh-speaking, and the right to operate a farm the ‘traditional’ way without UK government oversight is seen by Welsh Nationalists as an important post-colonial act.

Many of them didn’t even like the National Parks being set up, as they were seen as an English outsider imposition that ignored the working nature and cultural history of the land. Remember: the farmed uplands are often seen as a heartland of Welsh identity, and those have historically been intentionally destroyed by UK central government land management decisions (e.g. Tryweryn, Elan, Claerwen, etc)

“Over the past half century we have witnessed the arrival of countless environmental fundamentalists… seemingly oblivious to the fact that their new-found paradise is already occupied by people whose connection with the land is deep rooted, dates back thousands of years, and is embedded in their language and culture.” (Nick Fenwick [Farmers’ Union of Wales] 2013)

SO IT’S CULTURALLY DICEY

(And in my opinion an incredibly stupid idea to go and give it a primarily English name with a Welsh translation as an afterthought but that is Elanor’s Opinion and not Scientific Fact)

(But fr fr if you ever have to get involved in these sorts of projects you will go a long way if you have the basic respect of learning the Welsh names and pronouncing them right rather than lazily expecting everything to be in English sorry sorry I digress)

From the Cambrian Wildwood’s Mission Statement on their website, their objective is:

“To rewild or restore land to a wilder state to create a functioning ecosystem where natural processes dominate by carrying out habitat restoration, removing domestic livestock, and introducing missing native species as far as feasible.”

Can you see the controversial bit of the statement

Can you see the bit where they directly say they want to remove domestic livestock

Jesus Christ

Cultural Differences

AND THEN HERE'S THE BIGGER PROBLEM

‘Culture’ in Welsh is diwylliant – literally, a ‘lack of wildness’. There is no direct translation into Welsh for the term ‘rewilding’ – the closest you can get is anialwch or diffeithwch, which mean ‘wilderness’ in the sense of ‘desert’ or ‘wasteland’. So right off the bat, if you tell a Welsh-speaking farmer that you want to rewild the place, what they hear is "We want to make it dangerous and empty and degraded."

A related concept is cynefin - knowing one’s ‘patch’ and the feeling of belonging associated. The term has its roots as a description of the way grazing animals know their area of mountain land, but it is also used to describe how people come to form an intimate experiential knowledge of place - and specifically, a Welsh farmer's cultural attitude.

Basically, Welsh literature and oral traditions speak of a relationship with the land, not a separation and longing for an untouched wilderness. Farmers feel this especially keenly. Culturally, this is a big part of why they do it – they’re rooted to the land, and therefore to their identities.

“Interviewees conveyed this by referring to areas proposed for rewilding as being comprised of “a quilt of cynefinoedd: interwoven stories, the layered and collective place-making of families and individuals over-generations, co-constituted with the physical landscape” (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

So, to them, rewilding is erasing and disregarding these stories. To them, this is not just a land-use change, but the latest colonial attack. They've known the family who lived on that farm for generations - every birth, marriage, death, joy, triumph, loss, everything. You are saying that you are going to strip that family, all those stories, all those people out of that land, to be forgotten.

…

However. There is a counterpoint to this.

Many farmers taking this view have therefore identified themselves as the only “truly Welsh” people in the debate, accusing environmentalists as being outsiders. The problem with this being, most of the environmentalists involved with the project are also Welsh; so who the fuck are they to say who is or is not Truly Welsh? It's what we on the internet would recognise as gatekeeping, with a big side order of No True Scotsman fallacy.

Also this quote sums it up well:

“Sheep farming in this country goes back a few hundred years. I think if you go deep enough into our culture and ancestry, we have a really deep native relationship with wild forest areas and with the wild animals that are native to this country…I just don’t agree that sheep farming is really part of our traditional culture.” (WWLF Interview [15] 2016) (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

This is also a fair point. It is true that upland sheep farming, the way we now practice it, is only a few hundred years old, and at the current intensity only a few decades (since WW2).

On top of which, there has been plenty of exploration over the years of farmers as being a government-subsidised landed gentry, which I won't go into here, but it also contains some fair points.

In truth, all of it and none of it is true. It’s far more complex and nuanced than either side might want to believe.

Solutions So Far

This is an ongoing project and they're still learning and changing new things and stuff, but a big thing they did was get someone in to basically be a mediator and listen to both sides, because Jesus, those sides were not listening to each other.

But to date:

They actually worked with a first-language Welsh speaker (WHY DID THEY NOT DO THIS FIRST I'm sorry I'm fine). Originally the Welsh translation of the project was Tir Gwyllt – wild land. But given that Welsh connotations with gwyllt are something out of control or dangerous, Coetir Anian has been chosen – anian refers to a sense of natural order and creation, a sense of health and vitality. Similarly, ‘rewilding’ is being translated as ‘di-ddofi’ – ‘de-taming’. This acknowledges the labour and culture taken to tame it, and just suggests an avenue for discussing some relaxation of farming practice in appropriate locations rather than, you know, releasing packs of wolves directly into sheep pens

In online materials and in community engagement events where traditional storytellers and musicians have performed to celebrate the Wildwood, the trustees have drawn heavily from Welsh myth in the form of the Mabinogion. Enormous amounts of the Mab lovingly and respectfully feature wild woods and wild animals. The emphasis is therefore on how wilderness is also part of Welsh identity – and arguably a much older part, going back to the Celts. (This is clever, in my view, but something to approach with care - it's rarely a good idea to play the game of "What's the most Welsh". But so far it's been done sensitively)

Land purchased for the project has so far been wholly limited to that available in the public domain. The main site, Bwlch Corog, was empty and unfarmed for six years before purchase, which has been stressed in all media interviews and releases; this is important, because farmers do have a sense of "Productive land is being stolen by environmentalists".

Large predator reintroductions have largely been abandoned. Lynx and wolves are no longer on the agenda. It’s possible they’ll be included in the future, but it is acknowledged as currently impractical (both from clashes with farmers and lack of habitat).

Instead, they’ve supported smaller species reintroductions, such as the Vincent Wildlife Trust’s pine marten translocations, and some proposed red squirrel ones.

Bwlch Corog is to be managed as an experimental plot that farmers are encouraged to engage with.

Assessing the potential for new income streams (from improved tourism and educational activities) rather than just the ecological benefits – this has become central to the project, and the emphasis is on how this might benefit farming communities and keep them together. This has been huge, and has also been successful in rewilding schemes in Europe.

Tensions are a lot lower now than they were ten years ago, but ultimately the problem was a bunch of outsiders came in and decided they knew best without listening to anyone else's point of view, and that meant both sides really dug their heels in. Much better now.

Ultimately... yes, I am in favour of rewilding, in a general sense. But I think it needs to go hand in hand with supplying farmers with the necessary subsidies to transition back to more traditional and sustainable farming methods, and the two elements run side by side. You can't do one without the other, not if you want them to succeed. The Pontbren Project is a great case study for how a farmer-led scheme can successfully aid them economically while also improving environmental outcomes, and we need to learn and incorporate more lessons from it when discussing this kind of landscape-level management.

Also, with land management in general, I think you're a fucking idiot and dangerously arrogant if you think you can get anything done without all stakeholders being on board. And potentially wandering down the ecofascism path, circumstances dependent.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Source:

Wynne-Jones, S, Holmes, G & Strouts, G (2018), 'Abandoning or Reimagining a Cultural Heartland? Understanding and Responding to Rewilding Conflicts in Wales - the case of the Cambrian Wildwood.' Environmental Values, vol. 27, no. 4.

#asks #environment!#long post

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emilybeemartin · 7 months

Text

Hey! Hey, would you like to be a park ranger?

USA Jobs just posted a bunch of national park ranger positions for summer 2024--everything from small historic sites to the big flagship parks like Yellowstone and Yosemite. These are seasonal positions specifically for interpretive rangers, which means you begin around May-ish and end around September-October-ish. Interpretation is the branch of the NPS that does educational programming and frontline visitor services, like working in the visitor centers, leading guided walks and talks, and just generally interacting with the public in a friendly, helpful way.

If you have a four-year college degree in just about any subject (honestly, I've worked with people with degrees ranging from theater to business to geoscience), or 12 months' relevant work experience (customer service, retail, education, camp counseling, etc), or a combination of the two, you're eligible to apply. All you need is a resume and transcripts if you're using education to qualify.

Just go to USAJobs.gov and search for "park ranger interpretation" in the search bar. The key things you're looking for in the results are listings from the National Park Service, the code GS 5 (which is the entry level for this position), and the phrase Not to Exceed 1039 hours (which indicates it's a seasonal position).

Some tips!

>Each application requires you to answer a questionnaire about your experience with things like customer service, preparing educational programs, researching scientific topics, etc. Be generous with yourself on these, because other folks will be. Even if you don't think you're an "expert" in something, consider your past work creatively. Have you presented research projects in class? Have you worked retail? Can you keep up a professional demeanor when somebody's upset? You have the qualifications. Rate yourself as such.

>Be thorough and specific in your resume. The NPS isn't a one-pager resume organization. They need to see evidence that you have the qualifications you say you do. The best way to ensure this is to copy, word for word, the phrases in the above questionnaire and insert them in the relevant places in your resume. So if the questionnaire says "Can you research, prepare, and present scientific information to a lay public," go to the appropriate place in your resume and write "I researched, prepared, and presented scientific information to my peers" or something similar. I kid you not, my current resume is ten pages long.

>Cover letters are optional but helpful! There are lots of templates online to help you write one; be sure to be professional. Mine is around 250 words and has three short paragraphs:

1- Position I'm applying for

2- Quick summary of most relevant work/education experience

3- Additional skills/rizz that makes me stand out (for me it's writing/illustrating, which helps me create visitor programs)

>Two things the NPS loves that will boost you are foreign language skills and being a US military veteran. Highlight these elements if you have them.

>Are you a schoolteacher? Check out the Teacher-Ranger-Teacher program.

>The big flashy parks are posted as standalone listings, but most of the others are bundled into "Multiple Locations" that are based on region. Consider applying for many of these smaller monuments and historic sites---they get far fewer applicants and are easier to secure. And many are absolutely beautiful. Want to work at Arches? Also apply to Natural Bridges. Want to work in Yellowstone? Also try Lassen Volcanic. Prefer history over science? You have dozens of amazing options from every facet of American history.

>Apply today! Apply now! Many of these parks cap their applicants because they get so many, and the rest will close after a week or so. A glance at the ones that were posted today and yesterday show them either closing on October 15 or 22. Some regions haven't posted yet, so keep checking the website in the next few weeks.

I love my work as a park ranger---it's such a rewarding way to spend a summer (or two, or ten), and it can open doors to other things. You won't get rich, but you will make great friends and great memories, add a killer section to your resume, and spend four months immersed with smart, passionate people in some of the coolest places in the US.

Plus you get a SICK HAT

#jobs #national park service #park ranger #job search #job seekers

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zqmbiescorpse · 11 months

Text

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader

a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao

summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.

warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)

word count: 5.6k

(masterlist)

Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit.

If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there.

However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left.

Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return.

This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.

The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her?

At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.

Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again.

'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed.

On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment.

You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave.

"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one.

"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor.

"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing.

"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again.

"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!"

Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her.

Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin.

Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly.

"You're a fucking sociopath!"

Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.

"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.

"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."

You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed.

"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"

Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.

"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"

Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.

"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.

"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.

"Bull. Shit."

Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.

Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere.

You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.

You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight.

There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.

"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back.

"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking.

"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off.

"And what?"

A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused.

"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."

For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying.

"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips.

This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away.

You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it.

Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it.

"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!"

The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries.

Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.

"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.

Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.

“No. We’re staying.”

Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.

"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.

"Away from everyone…just the two of us."

You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?

The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.

Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.

She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths.

Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.

"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."

She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.

The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.

"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."

The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.

"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.

"Why are you up here?"

"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.

"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.

You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you.

"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?"

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked.

"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time.

Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.

"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind.

"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!"

After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship.

However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear.

Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural.

It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being.

The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.

"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.

"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder.

"We kissed."

You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about.

The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that."

"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago.

"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay?

The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever.

When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone.

It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.

You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time.

Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you.

Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence.

As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them.

Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.

"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder.

"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."

"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."

Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all.

With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same.

"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored.

You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.

Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew.

Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about.

Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence.

"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a nervous clump.

"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was.

"Can we talk?"

You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed.

"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.

"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there."

"I went to the attic."

"Why?"

There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place.

"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again.

Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body.

"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?"

You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else.

Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?"

"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things.

"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."

To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face.

This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin.

"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously.

Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?"

"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around.

"Like hallucinations? Visions?"

"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears.

You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through.

"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?"

Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh.

After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing.

You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result.

Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection.

"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss.

"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin.

You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.

#lottie matthews x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 2 #yellowjackets season 1 #showtime #wlw #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x female reader #taissa turner #shuana shipman #jackie taylor #vantai #mistyquigley

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horseshoegirl · 5 months

Text

Set Me Alight - Part 1: Seventeen Going Under

📜I know I should be working on FFA (Forever After All). However, I got bit by this idea of a fire look-out of all things, then had a whole dream about it. Naturally, I had to fic it. Due to story choices and plot later in the series, I have made a fictional National Park. However, it is loosely based on Mount Rainer and Olympic National Park in Washington.

❗️+18, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character, Anything Can Happen in the Woods, Forced Proximity, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, post-college daggers, Camping/Hiking AU.

Thank you to @desert-fern for helping me with the title!!

#6k Words

Masterlist | Part 2

Camping was the last thing you wanted to do on your week off.

It will be fun, Nat said. It won't be just the two of us going, she said. It's just hiking and a campfire and seeing the sights, she said.

It was not fun. It was not just hiking and a campfire. It was a fucking bad idea.

Why, you might ask?

It was hiking in a state national park, deep in the wilderness, with only a few fire lookouts as the closest thing resembling civilization. It was miles, miles, from your home state. It was going to be fucking cold, and wet, and rainy. It would be muddy slopes, climbing up cliff faces, and watching out for blind roots and sharp rocks haphazardly sticking up from the ground. You knew you wouldn't even get to enjoy the amazing scenery because you'd be too busy making sure you didn't accidentally die by stumbling over said rock or root down a cliff.

No, all that you could have handled, despite your initial protests. That wasn't the issue.

Because 24 hours post leaving your house and arriving in Seattle, she had failed to mention that fucking Jake Seresin had been invited along too.

It wasn't as if she didn't have a chance to. Oh no, there had been many ample opportunities for either her or her boyfriend, Bradley, to let you in on that secret. Like when the two of them picked you up from your apartment in the extremely early hours of the previous morning to start the journey to Seattle. Or the long drive there, or when you checked into the hotel that night.

Nat and Bradley had been shifty about who else had been invited in general too, but you suspected the usual group. Maybe their girlfriends, if the prospect of leaving the city wasn’t too much for them.

Despite your initial protests, you were actually excited to go. Lakespur National Park was a beautiful sight at any time of the year. The mountains were snow-capped and tall, like they were touching the sky. The trees were the brightest shades of green, especially after a bout of rain. The lakes and rivers were deep pools of unreal bright baby blue, and you knew from the website that there were a couple of waterfalls hidden amongst the trails. The cliffs were high enough, too, that if you managed to find a nice lookout, the views could have stretched on for miles. And neighbouring nearby, you could spot Mount Rainer standing non-threateningly as it could in the distance.

You wanted to paint as much of it as you could before the week was over.

You had awoken in your hotel room that morning in a good mood. You appreciated the few hours of sleep you could get before you had to spend a week in the literal woods, surrounded by bugs and animals who probably wanted to eat you, sleeping in a tent with nothing but a bed roll.

That same feeling carried over to now as you opened the truck door, the scent of dirt and fresh pine invading your nose. Grabbing the support handles on either side, you carefully lowered yourself to the ground, sunlight hitting the sides of your face. It felt good to be out here; the warmth, the fresh air, the sounds of nature going on around you in the early morning light.

Nat sighed affectionately, throwing her arms wide as if she was trying to hug the entire forest. "Ah, Nature!"

You rolled your eyes, but your smirk gave you away. "You said that yesterday morning when you picked me up. It's going to get old, really fast."

She closed her eyes, giggling to herself and starting to spin on the gravel, tilting her head back. You couldn't help but laugh with her as she twirled around, the stones and dirt crunching under her feet.

Nat’s friendship was the only one that had survived College. You’re not entirely sure how you became friends either; it just kind of happened out of the blue one day. She had been in a sorority and ran in the popular crowd, so to speak. You worked in the campus art supplies store selling paint and double-stapled-backed canvas’. And when you weren’t there, you were in the studio, painting or sculpting or doing something creative that usually ended up with you covered in whatever messy medium you had decided to work with.

From those things alone, she had no real reason to want to be your friend.

You suppose you could at least trace it back to that group project the two of had been assigned to do with two other people. Two other people who didn't do jack shit, despite multiple protests from both of you. The two of you had ended up pulling an all-nighter in your apartment off campus, and to your surprise, a girl from a high-ranking sorority had been way kinder than you expected her to be.

You wanted to say the two of you bonded that night, sharing stories and laughing at funny social media posts when you forced yourselves to take breaks. And when the project was done and over with, you didn't expect her to stay around.

But she did. Suddenly, in the aftermath, she was there, texting you about her favourite book series, dragging you out of the studio, and lifting your head off a literal canvas to ensure you had something to eat or drink. She'd sit with you in the library when you had to study art history and bring coffee. And when drama hit at her sorority residence, she moved into your apartment off campus.

That's how you met Bradley. And then his football team. And the biggest asshole to ever live. You regretted a lot of things on that night, and you not standing up to him was at the very top. Written in red. And underlined.

After what he said, after what he did, you never wanted to see his face again.

Once Nat steadied herself against the truck, you turned to catch your gaze on a few familiar figures unloading their gear. You waved hi to Mickey and Ruben as they made their way over to the three of you, gear and supplies thrown over their backs. Mickey was the first to reach you, sweeping you into a hug and ruffling your head over your baseball cap. You're smiling up at him when he pulls back.

"Ready for some adventure, Maeve?" he grins.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe we’ll find some interesting things to get up to. Sightsee, tell ghost stories, see a bear or two.”

“Really, a couple of bears. You think I could take them on?”

You snorted, reaching up to slap the rim of his baseball cap down. “Only you would want to have a fight with one.”

“Come on, you’re not scared, are you?” he said, dramatically holding his hand over his heart before reaching for you. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Suddenly, a new voice pitched up from behind him. "You are joking, right? You know he will be pushing the two of us in front of him and then running for the hills screaming like a little girl."

You giggled at Cora, his girlfriend's, remark as she pushed him out of the way to give you a bear hug. “The only way you’d ever come close to looking good in that scenario is her painting it.”

Mickey frowned. "That hurts my heart, baby. Really. You really think I'd leave you ladies alone to fend for yourselves?"

You and Cora snorted at the same time. "We know you would."

Mickey pouted, and Cora only laughed, resting her cheek on the top of your head as she laughed. But you were too focused on watching Jessica, Ruben's girlfriend, approach the group, and you had to brace yourself. While you hadn't known her long, Jessica's presence often accompanied an undercurrent of tension. Her lips were curled up in what you deemed a practiced, superficial arc, the kind of smile that was more a social formality than a genuine expression of pleasure.

"Hey Jessica," you greeted her with as much warmth as possible.

She offered you a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, and you had to force yourself not to take a step back out of Cora's arms or shutter at those eyes, wanting to tear you apart. She looked harmless, with short brown hair that framed her bubbly cheeks. But inside, you knew and felt the familiar twinge of discomfort that came from interacting with someone who clearly harboured less-than-friendly feelings about you.

Instead, you searched for Nat, who was saying something to Bradley as she lay across the front seat of the truck, leaning across the centre console with the door wide open. You called out to ask her, "Who else are we waiting on?"

There was a long-standing pause before Bradley was the one to shout out, "I don't see Javy's truck yet!"

You were about to open your mouth to reply, the retort on your lips, before someone honked a horn, and you came face to face with Javy’s Blue Chevy, kicking up stones as the massive tires rolled into the parking lot. The metal frame sparkled against the early morning sun, and you had to cover your face with your elbow to shield your eyes from the glare. Ruben called out, clapping his hand against his fist, calling out, “They arrive, finally!”

Mickey reached over and slapped him on the back, letting his hand rest on his shoulder. “Fifty bucks says pretty boy spend forever getting out of the shower?”

You jolted at the nickname. To anyone outside the group, the pretty boy reference could have been referring to Javy. But you had the context. There was only one person they could have been referring to, and like a volcano, you wanted to blow your top.

It was at this very moment you realized Nat and Bradley had purposely lied to you by omission.

“Oh no,” you grumbled out, and Cora instantly stepped back, taking her hands off you as if you were on fire and holding them out in front of her. And the two idiots realized what they had admitted, eyes wide as they took you in.

“Oh, Maeve, we thought…”

“Thought what?” you seethed. "What did you think, exactly?"

Javy cut the engine of his truck and swung open the driver’s door, turning in his seat to see everyone, a huge smile on his face as he took everyone in. That was until he landed on you.

“Maeve…” he called out cautiously, hopping down and holding his hands out in front of him nervously.

Don’t Maeve me! Who is in your truck with you? And don’t tell me it’s just Veronica.”

Javy bit his lip, contemplating what he could possibly say to you that would get you to calm down and just listen. But the longer he took, the more you came to the realization that that asshole was, indeed, riding shotgun in his truck.

And when the front passenger door opened and closed, the second you saw the flash of blonde hair, your vision turned red.

And just let that - every single good feeling, every thought of not needing to worry about him showing his face - quicken into flashing white anger. The whole group seemed to know it too, tensing up as your face started to turn beat red, and your mouth was poised open, ready to give the worst shout of their lives.

"Fuck no, Nat! Absolutely fucking not!” You practically screamed, turning to face her with your hands on your hips. Mickey dropped his chin to his chest with a sigh. “Yup, there’s the Midge we all know and love.”

Natasha sighed, mocking your stance as she readied herself for the argument. "Come on, you wouldn't have agreed to come had you known."

"You're damn fucking right, I wouldn't have agreed!" you fumed. "Why on God's earth would you think a whole fucking week with the two of us in close proximity would be such a good idea?!"

Nat went to reply, but the sound of shuffling gravel and a low, resonant thud of weight shifting on the side of Javy’s truck interrupted her, letting all of you know who inserted themselves into the conversation.

"Good to see you still have that mouth on you, Midge."

You slammed your eyes shut in annoyance at the sound of his voice.

Midge.

The not-so-subtle nickname he had bestowed upon you that everyone had suddenly taken to using. They all figured it was in reference to your height, or maybe for short for your weird ass name, as Jake once called it. Out of all of them, including Nat, you were the tiniest of the group. The entire football team towered over you, and while they meant it affectionately, endearingly, in the kindest way possible, Jake had to be the cocky smart ass.

A Midge was also in reference to a fly. A small but fucking annoying fly. He just had to double-whammy you twice.

Bradley came around from the driver's side of the truck, a slight grimace on his face. "Sorry, Maeve, I thought she had told you he was coming.”

Nat might have played a part in not telling you Jake would be here, but she wasn't solely to blame for his presence. No, that was entirely Bradley's fault.

Jake was his best friend, after all.

You marched forward, staring into his face, a finger pointed and pressing deep into his chest. "Why the ever living hell did you invite him!?"

Bradley regarded you for a moment before letting out a sigh. "You know why," he mumbled under his breath only to you, looking down at the breast pocket of his jacket.

Your heart twinged in your chest. You did know why. You helped him pick out that ring. Bradley wanted to propose to Nat on this trip, and it only made sense he'd want his best friend around when it did happen. It quelled your anger for a few seconds.

You could have handled a day. Maybe. A morning or afternoon. A few hours. An hour. Yes, you could have managed to be in the same space as Jake for one single hour. One hour, with doors and indoor plumbing and a driveway where you could park your car for a conveniently easy escape.

Not a whole fucking week. In a forest. With him.

"Please, Maeve," Nat begged from behind you. "This week is important to me. To us. We just want to have a good time with everyone together.”

With your back still facing her, you slammed your eyes shut.

Only if she knew the real truth behind such a statement.

Letting your head rest back on your neck, you opened your eyes to stare up at the sky. You knew you had to do this for Nat. She was one of the few friends you really had, and she had done more for you than you ever thought possible.

You owed her that much.

You turned to face her, taking in her pouting lip before your eyes finally tracked to Jake. He had crossed his arms, still leaning up against the side of Javy's truck. You watched as he wetted his lips in amusement. Your eyes stalked the movement, and for the first time since he arrived, you finally set your eyes on him.

"Oh, come on now, Midge," the asshole grinned at you. "Surely we can get along for a couple of days."

You gritted your teeth, your face scrunching up in disgust.

It had been close to six months since the last time you saw Jake Seresin. He had brought some chaotic tramp who was obsessed with horoscopes and star signs to Nat and Bradley's housewarming party, offering up no conversation except she was a Cancer and that it had to be the explanation and answer to any bizarre behaviour she might possess. You hated that. You hated her, though hate was too strong of a word to use on someone you'd probably never see again.

It made you want to throw up to see how she clung to Jake like he was her personal meal and how he ate it up with no shame.

But Jake didn't look like he did back then. He was more laid back now, in a button-up shirt and a short beard, ray bans hanging from the hem of his shirt. Nothing like the stereotypical playboy college type with rich parents that you knew him to be. Not the man with sharply defined edges and polo shirts as if he was about to descend on his mother’s fancy golf club. Not if he had been handed everything in his life on a silver platter.

Turning your head, you saw Nat's pleading gaze, and when you turned to Bradley, he mouthed a desperate "please." Sighing, you motioned for him to open the tailgate, only to grab your hiking bag from the flatbed and hoist it over your shoulders dramatically.

Adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you huffed out, "Hell better be fucking freezing over if I was ever forced to get along with you."

Collective sighs went up around the group, and you swore you could even see a few sag their shoulders in relief. Yet, that cocky asshole only continued smiling, maybe even wider than before.

"Chin up, sweetheart. There are worse people you could be stuck with out here, in the wilderness."

Your cheeks felt hot. "I'm not your fucking Sweetheart, Asshole."

"Would you like to be?"

Six fucking months and he hadn't changed. Even before that, with how intermittently you saw him. You were too scared to do anything back then about him and his attitude and his fucking mouth.

Now? You’d hit him in a heartbeat now. You were about to, if not for a gentle hand on your arm that prevented you from stepping forward to take a swing at him.

"Come on, Midge, you can stay back with us."

You allowed yourself to be turned, coming face to face with Bob and his girlfriend, Grace. You unclenched your fists almost immediately.

You liked Bob. He was sweet and kind and always had a smile on his face. And Grace had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met her. She looped her arm through yours, securely holding it to her side.

"He's not worth the brain cells," she whispered in your ear. You giggled loudly.

Bradley whistled loudly, making the group gather around, placing him and Nat at the center.

“Thank you all for coming! We all need to check in with the park ranger first,” Bradley started. “But first things first, we need to go over the rules and responsibilities!”

Nat pulled out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket, unfolding the edges and holding it out in front of her.

“Bob and Grace, you’re in charge of campfires! That includes the wood, the setting up and putting out! We don’t need to create any forest fires, so you guys are on this one!”

It made sense, you thought. They were probably the most responsible out of the group. Though you were slightly surprised they didn’t put Bob in charge of the map.

"Bradley and I are in charge of food! You carry your own shit during the day, but at the end of the night, it goes in the bag to hang up in a tree."

Collective murmurs of agreement went around the group. Nat continued to sound out names and tasks. It was obvious Mickey and Cora would be deemed the group's first aid leaders, Mickey being a firefighter and Cora being a nurse. Javy and Veronica were assigned to be on the lookout for freshwater, though you suspected Javy would be more cautious of looking for the designated spots than Veronica would be. And Ruben and Jessica, you had to hold in your laugh when her face dropped into an absolute look of displeasure when Nat called out they'd be on trash and trail sweep duty.

“Finally, Midge and Jake.”

You raised your eyebrow at the implication behind the ‘and' and what form of torture she might have in store for you.

"Navigators," she called out, eyeing the two of you cautiously. "The both of you will take turns navigating us to all of our campsites, trading off the compass and the map. One day, it's Maeve, the other Jake."

You wanted to argue, to call out that Jake wouldn't be able to navigate himself, let alone a group of people, through a national park, but you stopped yourself. You knew of the delicate balance you needed to maintain. Nat knew it, too. It's why she approached you with a careful eye

“Don’t kill Jake,” she eyed you sternly before turning to Jake and pointing her finger. “Don’t kill Maeve.”

You sallowed. "I won't if he doesn't start it first."

From the sound of the shift in gravel, you knew Jake had set his eyes on you, and you could feel them burning holes into the side of your skull. You resisted the urge to meet his gaze, to challenge or confront the unspoken thoughts you felt hanging between you. Instead, you focused on Nat, nodding to acknowledge the assignment.

Nat knew better, glaring at the two of you discerningly. She knew the two of you well enough to sense the undercurrents of tension. You had been careful with her, never revealing the true reason behind why you held so much disdain towards Jake. And you had no idea what he might have disclosed to them, but you were sure it was laced with the same damn message as always, shouting it as loud as he could to the first person he saw.

Midge is a bitch. I don't know why you’d waste your time being around her. She is as two-faced as they come, and whatever she's said or done, it's a personal attack on me when I've done nothing wrong.

Nat sighed, her frustration evident. "I mean it. If you two can't get along, at least be civil. Or so help me, I'll feed both of you to the first wild animal I see."

You knew she was joking, but the seriousness in her eyes conveyed the underlying ultimatum.

"Fine," you huffed first. Jake rolled his eyes, huffing out a less than enthusiastic, "Fine."

You could almost hear the single collective thought of the group: 'This should be interesting.'

Although the pair of you agreed with Nat's terms, tension remained between you. Nat gave each of you one final, pointed look before rejoining the others, leaving an awkward silence in her awake.

Jake, with a knowing and equally cocky smirk, couldn't resist throwing in a final quip. "Who knows, maybe at the end of all this, we might share a tent," he called out over his shoulder as he began to walk away, his voice loud enough for others to hear.

Yet, all he did was loudly laugh at your reply when you heatedly shouted back in kind, "Fuck off, Seresin! Unkindly, fuck off!”

---

You reached the first campsite around early mid-afternoon, having navigated these woods thus far with the agility of a deer avoiding a thicket of thorns and stones, always aware and always at least several feet apart from the one thing you were sure would kill you if you weren't careful.

You had stayed at the back of the group with Bob and Grace as much as possible, catching up with them while Jake took the lead, navigating everyone toward what would be your home for the night.

Grace spent the time talking about her job at the museum. She was a curator, which is probably why you got along with her so well. While she was passionate about the history surrounding a piece of art, you loved the actual creation process. That's how she met Bob, who had been hired there as an archaeologist.

Somewhere along the way, you realized you were only catching snippets of the conversation, her latest exhibit she was building with Bob. You felt bad but placed the blame entirely on the asshole with the compass.

It was a miracle the group ended up at the actual campsite. Jake had done everything wrong. From holding the compass incorrectly to naming the wrong trail markers or reading the map as if it were a field guide to an 18-hole golf course at a rich man's club. With each move he made or every word he spouted, saying it was "This way" or "That," you had to bite your tongue. Even if you tasted blood, you weren't going to start something he couldn't finish.

It didn't stop the glares, though, or the dirty looks. Or the fact your brain couldn't stop trying to figure out what point he was trying to prove by dressing like that?! If you hadn't spent as long as you had hating him, you'd even go as far as to say he looked good.

Fuck Maeve, you are not going there!

Your home for the rest of the afternoon and night was a sparse little clearing framed by several big trees, the branches high enough that it seemed like they were protecting the space below. Everyone had instantly split up, searching for a spot where they might set up camp. You found one easily enough, not too far from everyone else but enough to make the space your own.

Setting up your tent, you watched with a smirk from a distance as Jake wrestled with his tent, the poles flying in all directions in some comedic fashion. You contemplated whether or not to go over and help him, though it almost seemed sweeter to watch him struggle.

The further away he was, the better.

You had strategically chosen a quiet corner, just close enough between Bob and Grace and Cora and Mickey. You wouldn’t dare go anywhere near Nat and Bradley’s tent unless you didn’t want to get a decent night’s sleep. You were already scarred from College. You didn’t need another instance topping that one.

Grace and Bob had already taken the liberty of making the fire for tonight, rearranging the designated stone pit in the middle of the site into the correct shape and loading it with firewood. Everyone was already sitting around it, off in their own stories and conversations before dinner. You’d initially been drawn into the conversation with Nat and Grace sitting next to you, but it had taken a different turn, and your initial laughter had sounded more forced than you’d care to admit.

And you were too busy watching Jake on the other side of the fire, waiting for the moment he’d strike. But the afternoon lagged on, and he never did. Not until he finally caught your eye, that familiar smirk playing on his lips - the one you know he knew got under your skin - that your ability to tolerate his presence cracked hard.

You stood abruptly, not allowing him the chance to wind you up like some toy.

"I'm going to go for a swim," you said pointedly to Nat and Grace, ignoring the asshat sitting in the corner. "I shouldn't be long."

They only nodded at you, continuing back to their conversation. Bob was the only one who seemed to address your remark.

"Be safe!" He called out after you. "The park ranger said to be on the lookout for bears!"

You mocked-saluted him with two fingers. "Scouts honour!"

You didn’t hear the hushed whispers or giggles you left in your wake from Jessica or Veronica, nor did you see how Jake’s eyes narrowed, watching you depart from the group.

The lake wasn't far off from the campsite, maybe about a five-minute walk. The promise of cool water and some peace and quiet to sort out your thoughts was enough to entice you away from the group and lift your spirits. You didn't know how many opportunities you would be able to find on the rest of the trip to escape like this, so you knew you needed to take them when you could.

In addition to the warning you got about the bears in the area, the other wildlife you might encounter, and even the strict warning the group received about this being peak wildfire season, the Park Ranger also mentioned this particular campsite would be the only one with decent cell service. If you wanted to call anyone before you ventured further into the park, you had better do it now.

You called your aunt as you walked. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Did you step on a snake, or did you get mauled by a bear?”

“Hello to you too, Aunt Viv.”

Your Aunt Viv was considered the crazy one out of your family. Not because of her mannerisms or personality or the fact she probably was borderline close to adding “Friendly Wine Aunt” to her title, she was the only one to have broken off from tradition. She was, perhaps, one of your favourite people in the world for that reason alone.

“Well, when you told me you’d be spending a week out in some fucking forest, I assumed you wouldn’t have cell reception.”

You rolled your eyes, haphazardly avoiding a sharp rock sticking out from the ground, when you finally realized it was in your path.

“At this point, I wish it was one of the above. That way, I’d have an easy and reasonable way out,” you pouted.

There was a pregnant pause on the other end until you heard the thump of a bucket drop to the ground somewhere. “You were so excited to paint those landscapes. What happened? Is he there?”

You huffed. She knew you better than your own parents and your own brother.

“That obvious?”

She sighed through the phone, and you could picture her shaking her head. “Honey, nothing ruins your excitement more than that fucking waste of a man.”

You giggled at her remark. “I regret ever showing you his photo.”

“A woman my age can fantasize all she likes, even if he is a downright bastard.”

“And did say mention of said bastard just make you drop a bucket of apples?”

It was harvest season for her, all the way back in California. Aunt Viv’s apples were probably some of the best you could ever get on this side of the West Coast. Growing up, you always loved to run through the lanes of Galas and Smiths, climbing the trees for the best and brightest apples to eat.

“Don’t you worry, my dear. You know the worms aren’t that fast.”

You shook your head affectionately, finally lifting your eyes off the trail to take in the water. There was a part of you that regretted not bringing your sketchbook down with you, but you knew you could never do it justice. The blue of the water would never have matched the correct shade, and you wouldn't have been able to get the curve of the shoreline the right way or shadow the rivets of water at the right depth.

Sitting on a nearby rock, you dropped your head between your shoulders, letting it hang low.

“I don’t know what to do, Aunt Viv,” you sighed into the phone, pressing your hand to your forehead. There was another pause.

“Maybe you could talk to him about what happened?” she offered hesitantly.

“No, absolutely not,” you rushed out in a single breath. "I barely knew him for a single night before he started running his mouth about me. Why should I give him a chance when he never gave me one in the first place? Besides, he doesn't even know I know what he said."

You were met with more silence on the other end before she affectionately admonished, “Maeve, you don’t have to be scared of him. He’s just a man.”

Her words echoed in your mind, a gentle reproach that chafed against your pride. You weren't scared of Jake. Not really. Not of him, exactly, but of facing those feelings his words had stirred in you - feelings of inadequacy, of not being enough.

It held your breath hostage in a vice grip, tight.

“It’s one week,” you said, the words a half-hearted attempt to convenience yourself of the idea more than her. “It’s just one week where I can find ways to stay out of his way and not be a bother, and then I can leave and come help you out and drink all the dirty apple cinder I want.”

“You can have all the dirty apple cinder you want when you get here, but Maeve, don’t you shrink yourself down for a man who wouldn’t know a diamond if he held it in his hand, okay?”

Your grip on the phone tightened, her words stirring the embers of your resolve. “I’ll just keep to myself and the painting. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

“And your friend, right? Nat?”

You were. But even then, there was a small part of you that was deeply unsure of the why.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Bradley, too.”

She gently reminded you to have fun and to be safe before she had to go. The second you hung up your phone, you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

Pushing your towel off your shoulder and placing it on the rock beside you, you reached for the hem of your shirt, peeling it away from your body before doing the same with your leggings. You let your fallen pieces of clothing pile on the ground, and you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath as you breathed in the clear air, finally allowing yourself to relax.

“Boyfriend trouble, Midge?”

Almost.

Gritting your teeth, you made to cover your body, your arms wrapping themselves tightly around your torso, your nails digging hard into your skin.

"Why the hell would you want to know, of all people?" you snapped at him, turning slowly on your heel. Standing before you, it took you a second to remember just how massive Jake was.

It had been a while since you’d been this close to him. His height and build, attributes that in another context might be admired, now served to remind you of the vulnerability you felt around him. You, with your smaller, short frame staring up at his face, were only reminded of that fact. The broadness of his shoulders, stretching the fabric of his button-up in a way that spoke of strength, with the way he always seemed to carry himself, made him see larger as if he was occupying more space than what was physically possible.

You stood there, trying to hold your ground, but the disparity in your sizes made you feel exposed, almost childlike. He's just a man, your aunt had reminded you.

Yeah, he is a man.

A man you hated with a burning passion. That was clear as day.

"Why are you here, Seresin?" you asked pointedly, ignoring the absence of a reply. He eyed you back. "Same as you. Bradley's going to purpose and wanted his best friend here."

You rolled your eyes. "No, what are doing fucking following me?"

"Fishing," Jake shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, spreading his arms out to prove a point, the rod and fishing line bouncing in his hand.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Fishing? Really? Then please, be my guest. Poaching is a great way to get yourself kicked out of the park.”

Jake scowled at you. “You ever hear of catch and release, Midge?” he scoffed.

The laugh you let out was heartless. “Clearly, you know the concept all too well.”

You were dead set on escaping him, turning on your heel and marching towards the water without another word. Jake clearly thought the opposite, reaching forward to grasp at your elbow, pulling you back.

"Midge, stop! It's so like you to run off and ignore all your problems!"

Your turn towards Jake was sharp, a swift pivot that tore your arm from his grasp. Your eyes blazed with raw, unfiltered fury and resentment.

How dare he touch you!

"My problems!? What fucking problems would those be? I'm not the one purposely playing show and tell with my ego!"

Jake's face hardened. "My ego? You're the one making a scene every five minutes. You're the one that needs to calm down."

You glared at him, unwrapping your arms from around your chest to hang them at your sides, balling your hands into fists.

If he wanted calm, you'd show him the exact opposite.

"I'm not the one offering up cheap shots with every other breath. If you throw it at me, I'm going to throw that shit right back!"

Jake's eyes dropped to your exposed skin and the black bikini you had quickly changed into when you set up your tent. You saw it happen, and with each pass over your body, it felt like scrutiny, as if he was picking apart your every flaw, every scar, every wrinkle or flabby piece of skin. It was more ammo for more cheap shots later, no doubt.

Oh, so it's my fault then?" he sneered. "You're the one always ready to jump down my throat at the slightest provocation. Maybe if you weren't so defensive all the time, we could actually have a civil conversation and not ruin the fucking weekend for everybody."

You went to cover your body once again. "What do you fucking suggest then? Considering you cannot stand to call me out on something every two seconds?"

"Me?" he scoffed. "You're the one that seems to shutter in complete disgust every time I'm within breathing distance of you."

The retort was there, right on the tip of your tongue, ready to be unleashed on the world. That he said the same about you first, behind your back, no unless. It hung on your bated breath, waiting for the first word to be spoken, but something tethered you remain silent.

You couldn't admit that you knew, not know. You couldn't confront him about it either. He had proven here, and many times before, that the fault solely rested within you. And if you confronted it, that meant dredging up all the pain you meticulously buried under your disdain.

Admitting the real reason behind your spite, acknowledging the hurt he had caused, felt like giving him power over you, and that was the last thing you wanted.

You were going to back out before you said something you might regret.

"Okay, how about this? " You stated, holding your hands up in front of you, equal width apart. "This is you, and this is me. And this," you exaggerated, moving one of your hands into the center of the imaginary space you created, "is the boundary. We do not cross the boundary. We do not talk unless necessary, and we don't get into each other's way but to pass off the fucking compass to one another."

Jake scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe that is going to work?"

You dropped your hands to your hips. "Well, Mr. Smart Ass, have any other ideas that don't involve ruining Nat and Bradley's week?"

"I'm not that fucking heartless, Midge!" Jake retorted, his voice rising. "I'm not going to ruin it for them, but I won't tiptoe around you either. Whatever your problem is with me, it's yours to figure out on your own. Until then, put your selfish feelings and attitude aside and let them be happy!"

Something hit you square in the chest with his words. Your eyes began to sting, the sensation warning you of the impending overflow of unforgivable tears, and you tried to covertly blink them away. Everything was converging into a single, painful point in your chest, your mind now racing past every insecurity, every moment that had been magnified by Jake's previous words the night you met him - now being echoed yet again.

It was a raw exposure you hadn't anticipated, nor one you were prepared for.

"I'm not being selfish." You tried to hide the hurt from your voice. "But I guess that's a little too much to ask from someone like you."

Jake clenched his jaw. "Fine," he shouted, throwing up his hands. "You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours!"

"Fine!"

You stomped off with a shaky breath towards the shoreline, trying to ignore the tremor in your hands or how your stomach was flipping inside out, falsely warning you of some unknown danger or threat. Jake stormed off at the same time as you, stones crunching under his boots, and you had to force yourself from turning back to watch him leave.

Instead, you stepped into the water, the cool temperature shocking your system, but you pushed on, stepping forward until your waist was level with the lake.

Wading deeper into the water, you try to cast him from your mind. The lake water enveloped you, the cold water soothing on your skin and joints. You tried to pay no mind to Jake as you heard him cast his line off down the shoreline, letting your hands glide along the water's surface instead. You watched how the ripples cascaded out, surrounding your hand, and you found the motion soothing.

You suddenly sprung forward, diving under before you kicked yourself up into a dead man’s float, trying to push every single intrusive thought from your mind. Slowly treading the water with your hands, you let the silence flood your ears.

It wasn't an impossible task. You could do this: ignore him for the entire week and get away without interacting with him unless absolutely necessary. You could stay back with Bob and Grace or Cora and Mickey while he did whatever with the rest of them. You would let Nat have her moment to celebrate with her friends when Bradley did decide to pop the question, and you would smile and hug and toast to whatever came of it.

In some ways, you already had been. Because if staying at the back of the pack, away from Jake and out of everyone's hair, was the one thing you could do to make this experience the happiest for her, for them, you would do it.

So it was at that moment you decided Jake fucking Seresin was not going to have any opportunities to drive that fucking wedge any deeper than it already was.

But if a bear did decide to show up, you knew just exactly who you were tripping first.

Tagging a few people from the tag list form! Let me know if you want to be tagged! Or if you're interested in being tagged in fics now or in the future, Click here.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @fanficfandomlove @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hookslove1592 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @lynnevanss @dempy

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @keyrani @atarmychick007 @buckysteveloki-me @trickphotography2 @stargazer-88 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @alldaysdreamers @The-dark-and-the-mystery

@formulafun @djs8891

-Lucky/Wickett/Em

Part 2: Abracadabra - Coming soon!

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elbiotipo · 2 months

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If you're from Argentina, you've probably heard about the Iberá wetlands, and you know the tourist pitch: a vast expanse of natural wonders in the middle of Corrientes, full of beautiful lapachos, cute carpinchos and yacarés, and now home to the fastest-growing wild yaguareté population, all with the unique Guaraní influenced culture of rural Corrientes.

Now, things aren't as shiny as they look, since the creation and management of the new national park is still a point of contention in many ways, but you will be suprised that this kind of thinking about the Iberá is very, very recent. Most people considered it an obstacle to progress, a big bunch of swamp in the middle of what could be a very productive ranching province. In a geography book from the 1910s (unfortunately I lost the screencap) it says something like "the biggest obstacle for the development of the province is this swamp, and it should be drained"

This took me to the other side of the world, to the Netherlands. They're known for land reclamation, from literally building their country from the sea. Especially when we're facing rising sea levels because of climate change, the Dutch seem like miracle workers, a look into our future. You will find no shortage of praise about how with some windmills and dams, the Dutch took land "from the sea", and turned it into quaint little polders, making a tiny country in Europe a food exporter and don't they look so nice? But when you look about it, you can barely find anything about what came before those polders. You have to dig and dig to find any mentions of not "sea", but of complex tidal marshes and wetlands, things I've learned are ecologically diverse and protected in many places, but you won't find people talking about that at all when talking about the Netherlands. It's all just polders now. What came before was useless swamp, or a sea to be triumphantly conquered. It's like they were erased from history

The use of that language reminded me of the failed vision of draining Iberá... and the triumphing vision in the Netherlands, and many other places. Maybe those wonderful places, those unique wetlands, would have been a footnote, you wouldn't find anything unless you were a bored ecologist who looked, and not even then. Now, far it be from me to accuse the medieval Dutch, who wanted to have more space to farm, of ecocide. And don't think this is going to be a rant against European ecological imperialism either, as the most anthropized places you can find are actually in China and India. But it does get me thinking.

I work with the concept of landscape, and landscape managing. (Not landscaping, those guys get better paid than me) The concept of landscape is somewhat similar to the concept of ecosystem you know from basic biology, but besides biotic and abiotic factors, you also have to involve cultural factors, that is, humans. There is not a single area of "pristine" untouched nature in the world, that is a myth. Humans have managed these landscapes for as long as they have lived in them. The Amazon, what many people think about when they think about "unspoilt" nature, has a high proportion of domesticated plants growing on it, which were and are still used by the people who live on it, and there once were great civilizations thriving on it. Forests and gardens leave their mark, so much that we can use them to find abandoned settlements. From hunter-gatherers tending and preserving the species vital to their survival in the tundra to engineers in Hong-Kong creating new islands for airports, every human culture has managed their natural resources, creating a landscape.

And this means these landscapes we enjoy are not natural creations. They are affected by natural enviroments; biomes do exist, species have a natural distribution. But they are created and managed by humans. Humans who decide what is valuable to them and what is not. The Dutch, seemingly, found the tidal marshes useless, and they created a new landscape, which changed the history of their nation forever. We here in modern Argentina changed our perception of Iberá, decided to take another approach, and now we made it a cherished part of our heritage, which will also speak about us in the future.

Ultimately, what is a useless swamp to be drained or a beautiful expanse of nature to be cherished depends in our culture, in us humans. We are the ones who manage and change ecosystems based in our economics, our culture, our society. This will become increasingly important, as climate change and ecological degradation becomes harsher and undeniable. We will have to decide what nature is worth to us. Think about what is it worth to you.

#I REALLY had to restrain myself not to make a football joke about the netherlands #cosas mias #ecology #biology #culture #cultural landscapes

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sterekfests · 1 year

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Welcome to our Summer round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Summer Fest will run from May 28th - August 5th in celebration of Summer, whether you’re getting out for school at the end of the school year and have two months to travel, or love the heat and spending it locally with your pack, enjoying a staycation. There’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs.

We also have a Discord you can join that has events running such as @sterekbingo and @sterekweekly.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Summer Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them!

We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in!

This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection.

@sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them.

Use the tags #sterekfestssummer2023, and #sterekfests for generic tags.

For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestscoastal, #sterekfestsstay, #sterekfestscamp, #sterekfeststent, #sterekfestslake, #sterekfestsroad, #sterekfestseuro, #sterekfestsisland, #sterekfestsBTS

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome theme weeks ahead!

May 28-June 3: School is out for the summer!

School is out for the summer! It's time to relax, have fun, and enjoy the warm weather. Are Stiles and Derek looking forward to swimming, surfing, visiting friends, or just taking some time off? No matter what they do, it’s sure to be a summer to remember.

June 4-10: Coastal Celebration

What better way to celebrate the summer than hitting the beach? Are Stiles and Derek watching the sunset in Santorini, Greece? Swimming in the clear waters of Hawaii? Maybe they’re taking a pack trip or sailing around the world together for the summer. Take us on their coastal celebration!

June 11-17: Staycation

It’s summertime in Beacon Hills! From the bowling alley to the indoor ice rink, there are a lot of fun places to hang out and explore. Will Stiles and Derek dance the night away at one of the local clubs? Or maybe they spend their time walking through the preserve, taking in all nature has to give. Who knows! It’s up to you to decide how Stiles and Derek spend their staycation.

June 18-24: Camping Anywhere

Stiles and Derek are going on a camping trip! Are they going to a National Park? Hiding out in the preserve in a den? Sleeping in the Jeep because the rain flooded them out of their undisclosed campsite? Maybe they’re taking a pack trip during the full moon to run under the moonlight together, hunting deer while Stiles and Derek renew their mating bond. Only you can tell us where their camping adventure will take us!

June 25-July 1: Tented Elegance

It’s that time of the year when fabulous parties happen in large, elegant tents! Maybe Stiles and Derek are having a summer wedding on their property at the rebuilt Hale house, renewing their vows; or they’re having a pack get-together escaping the heat in style. Wherever they decide to spend their time, it’s under a large, elegant tent! Take us on their adventure this summer!

July 2-8: Luxe Lakeside

It’s time to hit the lake! Lydia Martin is known to throw the best parties at her lakehouse! But this one is going to last all summer. Is it pack party time? Or are Derek and Stiles alone at the lakehouse after everyone left the party? Maybe Stiles borrowed the key from Lydia and there is no party, so the mated couple is getting away and spending time alone. Or they’re taking a trip out of town to visit a lakehouse in a beautiful secluded place that is owned by Derek’s family. Only your imagination can tell us!

July 9-15: Road Trip to Anywhere

Pack your bags for a road trip to anywhere! Stiles and Derek are getting the heck out of Beacon Hills this summer. Pick a destination, whether by Camaro or Jeep and show us their journey! Are they going to a state or national park? Visiting the hot springs in Yellowstone? Hitting all the cheesy roadside attractions with no destination in mind? Only you can show us!

July 16-22: Backpacking Europe

Grab your backpack and your passports! Stiles and Derek are trekking across Europe this summer! Croatia, Hungary, Ireland, France, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Germany, Greece… there are so many beautiful places the boys can visit this summer! Take us on your fantasy trip, or give us some insight if you live or have visited European destinations!

July 23-29: Island Getaway

Stiles and Derek are heading to an island getaway! It sounds like a great time to visit Cancun for the first time. Jamaica, The Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Barbados, Cuba, Honduras, the British Virgin Islands, Bora Bora, Fiji, Greece, Italy… There are so many places to visit, laying on a beach, catching some sun! What are Derek and Stiles doing on their island getaway? Are they on their honeymoon? Taking a pack trip? Take us away to their island getaway!

July 30-August 5: Back to School

Summer is over and it’s time to head back to school! Are Stiles and Derek the same age and in high school together? Are they attending the same university? Maybe they’re pledging the same fraternity or they’re freshman roommates away for the first time at school. Maybe they met at summer camp and have to leave since summer is over and find out they don't live that far from each other. After all, it’s a small world! Take us back to school with Stiles and Derek!

@thebigbangblogproject @teenwolffandomevents @sterekevents

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senorabond · 4 months

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Rumor Has It: Chapter 7 Peña x f!reader x Pike

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 7 Summary: The case is progressing more quickly than expected, presenting the first opportunity to set the bait for the narcos. When plans for the undercover operation go awry, you have to think and act fast. Meanwhile, whatever is going on between you and Javi gets kicked into high gear.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), boss!Marcus, slowburn, workplace romance, ohh the yearning, fake relationship, protective!Javi, Dom/sub dynamic, precisely (1) spank, almost caught, please just fuck already

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.

Words: 8k

Author’s Note: I am SO happy to finally post this! I’ve been sick with back-to-back viruses ever since November, so I’ve been slowly chipping away at this chapter. It’s super plotty and a lil smutty, but I had to kick Javi and Reader in the ass to move this shit along somehow. I have so many thots and ideas for these two, especially when we get to see more of Marcus. As always, a HUGE thank you to my dear, sweet, lovely beta @kilamonster, who lets me torture her endlessly with all the dirty things that come to mind and for correcting my atrocious Spanish. 💋💜

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

The Next Morning Washington, D.C.

There’s a knock at Marcus’ office door and a grinning man pokes his head inside. He’s got a slight build, and sandy hair that falls across his forehead in natural waves. You had always told Marcus this agent reminded you of that weaselly guy in Dirty Dancing, Neil, and he can certainly see it now. Though the resemblance was probably more down to personality than looks.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" The man asks, waiting for permission to enter.

"Yeah, Wilkins, come in – and shut the door.” Wilkins has to halt midway to turn around and close the door and is looking a bit less confident now as he sits down in the chair across from Pike.

Pike fixes the smaller man with a neutral expression. He'll give Wilkins a chance to be honest and forthright, but he’s not going to beat around the bush.

"Did you receive a call from a DEA agent about helping them with a potential art money laundering case?"

Wilkins' eyes grow wide for a second, and he stumbles a bit over his next words. "Uh, I'm not sure, maybe?"

"Maybe?" The fewer words Marcus gives Wilkins to work with, the more he'll have to come up with himself, and the less he’ll be able to turn Marcus’ words back around on him – a common interrogation technique.

"I remember a call from somebody at the DEA, but I don't think I recall the specifics." Wilkins fidgets with his tie.

Marcus keeps his face neutral, but laces his fingers together on his desk and leans forward, closing the space between them. "What do you recall?"

"He might have mentioned some drug dealers." Wilkins, a man with an ego the size of Nationals Park, has already been reduced to a little boy getting in trouble at school.

"Being that he's DEA, that would make sense." Pike says blandly, waiting for Wilkins to continue.

"Yeah. And... there might have been some talk about art." Wilkins’ voice is small, tentative. He knows he’s been caught out, and it’s no small matter.

"That's interesting. And why do you think this DEA agent called us – the FBI art squad – about art?"

Wilkins doesn't say anything in response. He knows there's nothing else he could say in his defense at this point.

"Do you know who that DEA agent was, Wilkins?"

Wilkins juts his chin out defiantly. "No, Sir."

"You might, if you'd bothered to get his name." Wilkins has grown sullen, already tired of the tongue lashing.

Pike has no patience for this guy’s attitude. Normally, Marcus wouldn’t draw out disciplinary issues like this, on the rare occasions he has them with his crew. But this guy has pissed him off too many times.

"That was Special Agent Javier Peña. You might have heard of him, made the news awhile back." Marcus leans back in his chair, watches Wilkins’ petulant shrug.

"He put away Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel, remember them?" Wilkins doesn’t respond, but there’s recognition in his eyes. "So when Javier fucking Peña calls to ask for help, that's probably when you should tell your superior.”

Marcus pauses, waiting for Wilkins to say something, anything, but he just sits there.

“Do you agree?" Marcus prompts, each word punctuated.

"Yes, Sir." The man replies, his tone clipped.

"Glad to hear it."

"Is that all?" Wilkins stands, and Marcus fights the urge to stand as well. But there’s power in showing you’re confident enough to not rely on being physically overbearing.

"No, I'll tell you when that's all. There have been some rumors floating around the office for a while now.” Finally, what Marcus has wanted to confront Wilkins about for months.

“I tried to ignore them, thinking it was just some office gossip, but then one of our best liaisons at Customs fast-tracked a transfer.” Marcus has to take a breath, the lead ball in his stomach growing heavy. “Some of that office gossip was about her. Know anything about that, Wilkins?"

"No, Sir." Wilkins shifts from foot to foot, glancing around the office nervously. Marcus lets him squirm for a bit longer.

"That's good. Because if you did know something about who was spreading those harmful rumors – rumors that affect the lives and careers of federal agents who outperform you on any given day – we’d be having a very different conversation."

Wilkins stands rigid, eyes wide.

"That's all." Marcus turns back to his computer and without giving Wilkins another glance.

______________________________________________________________

That Afternoon Texas

The briefing went off without a hitch. You could feel Javier's smile on you from the other side of the briefing room while you talked through each of the slides. Your stomach was in your throat, but Javier's presence gave you the bit of confidence you needed every time you glanced his way.

The other agents ask questions you and Javi had anticipated and discussed thoroughly the day before, and even a few you didn’t prepare for. Once you answer their questions flawlessly, Javier dismisses the group to their respective assignments. Several of them shake your hand on their way out.

Javi stands back and watches the crowd file out, then saunters over to you. You’re beaming a smile at him and fight the urge to throw your arms around him in a grateful embrace.

“That was…” You shake your head in disbelief, eyes as wide as your smile.

“‘Amazing.’ You can say it.” He’s smiling in return and leans a slim hip against the table, crossing his arms.

“It was amazing! God, that felt good.” Adrenaline pumps through your limbs in a rush.

“You did a great job today.”

“Thanks, I had a lot of help.” You start to gather the briefing materials and Javi jumps in, working his way around the opposite side of the table. You meet on the other side, where he adds the stack from your hands to his own.

“Not as much as you think.” Javier tucks the stack of briefings under his arm and gives you a friendly wink. Friendly, yet it still manages to set those butterflies flitting again. You haven’t felt this moony over a guy in…well, awhile.

The rest of the day goes by like a blur. Javier introduces you to the two agents he’s assigning to report directly to you for the duration of the case – Diaz and Tran – and the three of you get to work immediately. The first thing you do is get in touch with the closest ports of entry to see what high-priced artwork may have crossed in or out of the country within the past few months.

You lose yourself in piles of customs reports, flagging anything that catches your eye, and before you know it, Javier appears at your desk, knocking on the wall of your cubicle. Blinking, you’re surprised to see that the office has emptied out.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you see that it’s past seven o’clock on your computer screen. “Jesus, no wonder I was starting to go cross-eyed.”

You start putting the reports away in your bag, intending to look at them some more at home. The excitement and buzz of the day is fading, and the fatigue finally starts setting in.

"Want to grab a drink?" Javier has his jacket over his arm, a hand casually in his pocket.

"Can I take a rain check?" You feel bad saying no, because you actually would like to have a drink with Javi.

“Are you going to keep working at home?”

“That was the plan,” you admit sheepishly.

“Then, no.”

“‘No,’ what?”

“No rain check. Let’s go – there will be plenty more to do tomorrow. I had to learn that the hard way.” Javier reaches over and takes your bag.

You let out a long-suffering sigh for dramatic effect and shut down your computer. As you join Javier, he splays a broad hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the elevator. You barely have a chance to register the warmth of his hand before it drops, leaving pleasant tingles in its wake.

The silence between you is born from that day’s weariness, yet it feels comfortable. Javi takes you to the same bar as before, and you grab the same table in the back while he orders you each a beer. A server brings a couple of glasses of water over as well, which you find a sensible choice, given how tired you feel already.

Javier settles back in his chair with a groan and starts taking off his tie. As he stretches his long neck, you try not to stare, but those freckles and prominent veins hold your gaze. He takes a long pull from his bottle of beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

Tearing your eyes away, you focus on the rings of condensation your beer bottles have left on the table and try to think of anything to talk about. Before you can think of something, Javier speaks up.

“I got a call today.” He’s fiddling with the label on his beer bottle, peeling it back. His knee bounces under the table, jiggling close enough that you can feel the edge of his pant leg against yours.

When he doesn’t continue, you prompt him with a soft, “Oh?” and take a swig of your beer.

“It was the FBI art squad getting back to me.”

You pause before swallowing, determined to play this cool. “About time.”

“Yeah, the guy was really apologetic. He said they could assign a couple of people to help us with whatever we need.” Javier finishes pulling the label off his bottle, all in one piece.

“That’s great!” You hope Javi can hear the genuine enthusiasm you feel in your voice. “My contact said they’d help, but wasn’t sure what they could do.”

“I spoke to the agent in charge, Pike. Do you know him?” He keeps his large, brown eyes on you as he takes another sip of beer.

Schooling your features, you dare yourself to meet his gaze. “I do, yeah.”

“Have you worked with him before?” Javier tilts his head a fraction, watching you.

“That case I finished before transferring, he and I worked on that together.”

“Closely?”

“What are you trying to get at?” You counter, putting your beer down harder than you intended, your hackles starting to rise.

“Nothing.” Javier shakes his head and looks down at his beer, but you can see a hint of a smirk appearing under his mustache.

Huffing, you slouch and take a sip of your beer, then cross your arms, feeling a little like a child. “Yes.”

“Hmm?” Javi looks up at you through his lashes. Those damned eyes of his. He could bring entire cartels to their knees with those eyes.

“Yes, he’s the person I had a… thing with.” You cross one leg over the other, bouncing it peevishly.

“Sounds complicated,” Javier remarks, not unkindly.

You shrug, as though to say it was nothing. As though the time you spent with Marcus didn’t mean anything to you, and wasn’t the healthiest relationship you’d ever been in, even if it didn’t have the label society demanded. You’re embarrassed to feel the sting of tears in your eyes and turn your face away from Javi before he can see.

“I understand complicated,” Javi says, his soft words a balm to soothe your injured heart.

The beers are finished in contemplative silence. Both of you take plaintive sips of water, mindful of the drives ahead and the weariness you’re each already fighting.

Neither of you seem to mind that the space between you is shrinking, or that your legs rest gently against each other’s under the table. Neither of you flinch or pull away when the backs of your hands wrapped around your water glasses touch. When Javi’s thumb grazes your knuckles, you only look at him, but his face stays turned down determinedly.

You move your thumb against his in a soothing repetition. Slowly, but without hesitation, Javi takes your hand in his, linking your fingers, and you give a gentle squeeze. Your breath slows, the noise of the bar fades, and the tension in your muscles unwinds as you inhale and exhale in time with Javi.

Without a word, without a glance, Javi pulls you to your feet and begins to lead you out of the bar.

It’s completely dark now, but the goosebumps erupting across your arms aren’t from any chill in the air. Holding tight to Javi’s hand, you follow swiftly behind him. He lengthens his stride, shoulders back and jaw set.

About half a block from your office building, Javier pulls you around a corner and onto a darkened side street. You let him lead you without thinking, completely trusting him. But before you can blink, he’s got you pressed up against the wall of a building, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other around your waist. Instinctively, your hands grip onto the lapels of his jacket to not lose your balance.

Everything Javier does is purposeful, focused, intentional – he is not a man to lose complete control of himself, especially when he feels out of control. With his face mere inches from yours, and the faint scent of beer on his breath, he speaks.

“Tell me to stop.”

Javi’s tongue pokes out and licks his plump bottom lip. The cool stone of the building at your back is a welcome relief from the heat pooling in your lower belly.

“W-what?” A glance at his eyes, black from the shadows around you, makes your knees shake.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now.” The hand on the back of your head gently eases down to cup your face, and Javi caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Please,” he pleads in a whisper, his lips a hair’s breadth from your own. “Before I do something I’ll regret.”

“Don’t…” Your breath shakes.

A sigh from Javi’s lips is warm on your face. Almost imperceptibly, Javi nods and begins pulling away. You tighten your grip on his jacket, holding him in place.

“I mean - don’t stop.”

Javi’s smile changes his entire face, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“Cariño,” he murmurs, resting your foreheads together and nudging your nose with the tip of his.

Before Javi can do more than brush his lips against yours, a small group of people pass by on the sidewalk a few feet away. This close to the office, it’s very possible they work in the same building – might have even come from the same bar. Fortunately, Javier reacts quickly. He shifts your bodies and tucks your head into his chest, blocking the light from the nearby street lamp – and their view of you – entirely.

Their chattering ceases abruptly as they spot your forms in the shadows, one letting out a quiet, “Whoops,” under his breath. Another sniggers, and they continue on their way. You think you hear one of them whisper Peña a bit too loudly and get shushed by their companions.

Javier holds you there a few more moments, your bodies molded to one another in the dark. Stilling your pounding heart, you breathe in his scent and run your hands around his back, underneath his suit jacket. The muscles of his back are firm under your hands. He presses his face to the top of your head and wraps his arms around you in return. For a while, you stay there together, breathing in sync and savoring this stolen moment.

Eventually, Javier starts to pull away, and you reluctantly let go. He leans in, and tenderly places a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, and your ear. Softly, he says, “Come on, cariño, I’ll walk you back to your car.”

Holding hands again, your pace is much slower this time. There seems to be an understanding that what you just experienced was too close a call. Still, neither of you are in any hurry for this to end, whatever it is.

At your car, Javier stands back with his hands in his pockets while you open the door and toss your bag inside.

“Get home safe, cariño.”

“You too, Javi.”

In your mirror, you see him give a small wave as you drive away.

~*~*~*~

It was stupid to ask you to grab a drink after work. Javier doesn't really understand what motivated him to ask you in the first place.

That’s a lie – he knows exactly why he asked you, why he asked you about Pike, why he dragged you out of that bar. You're on his mind all the time now, to the point of distraction. Javier sees you when he closes his eyes, pictures you lying next to him when he’s going to sleep, tries to imagine the feel of your skin, soft on his fingertips. The only relief he feels is when he's with you in the flesh.

It’s selfish of him, he realizes, to want these things from you. You haven’t said much about what happened in D.C., but it was enough for him to understand that he can’t put you in that position again. People are cruel, especially to women.

With a heaving sigh, Javier rolls over in bed. Even if he can’t allow himself to act on his desires, he can let go a little in his mind. For a moment, he lets himself indulge in the fantasy of having you, fueled by the memories of your fingers laced with his, the heat from your back where he placed a gently guiding hand, the scent of your shampoo when he kissed your face.

Javier imagines what it would feel like, being able to touch and feel you in those natural ways people together do: your arms wrapped around his chest and kissing the back of his neck and shoulders, the weight of you seated on his lap, caressing all of your lines and curves. All the things he could do with you, just because you’re his.

______________________________________________________________

Five Days Later Texas

You’ve never seen a case get off the ground and progress so quickly. In the last few days, the DEA managed to bring in the art gallery couple suspected of planning a money laundering deal with the narcos under investigation. Not only did the couple admit to their plan, but they agreed to cooperate with the investigation in exchange for immunity.

The gallery was hosting a special exhibit opening that night, and the narcos – Castano and Lopez – were confirmed guests. The timing was perfect to introduce Peña and another agent, Bateman, who would be posing undercover as business partners in competition with the art gallery owners. But that meant their task force had to act fast to get everything organized and ready in time.

Surveillance had been placed on Castano and Lopez, and the agents tailing them were sending in frequent reports on the men’s movements. They had already arranged transportation to get them to the gallery event after dining at an expensive restaurant nearby. Their dirty money certainly didn’t stop them from enjoying a lavish lifestyle.

You check over the information on the tablet in your hands. Posing as an event coordinator gave you access to all areas of the gallery, service entrances, back rooms, the whole shebang. It also gave you the ability to watch a live video feed of all the cameras placed around the gallery, right from your tablet, and listen in on the audio through the wires Peña and Bateman would be wearing.

A few other agents were staged as caterers, wait staff, and private security detail for the special event, but this evening would only have one mission: get the narcos interested in finding out what Peña and his “business partner” could offer. He and Bateman were already out on the gallery floor, mingling with the crowd, and looking at the art.

Javi was wearing a dark blue suit, fitting snugly to his broad shoulders and tapering in at his slim waist. He’d obviously taken extra time grooming himself that evening, because he had some kind of pomade in his hair that added a sleek wave, and his mustache was neatly trimmed. It was criminal how fucking good he looked.

Surveillance checks in to report an ETA of approximately 10 minutes. Letting out a deep breath, you tap out a message on your tablet with the ETA and send it to Javi’s phone. Through your earpiece, you hear Javi’s phone ding, a pause, and then his voice mutters, “Copy.”

Things between you and Javier that week had been a bit tense, to say the least. The two of you orbited each other, coming close yet never touching before being slingshot back out in opposite directions.

The memory of his arms around you and his lips ghosting across your mouth kept you warm each night. You continuously waffled back and forth between reprimanding yourself for even thinking about indulging in another workplace fling, and craving him like a drug. It was maddening.

Diaz’s voice in your ear says, “Targets have arrived, entering now.” You message Javi, and he confirms he has eyes on them. He and Bateman continue circulating a bit, keeping an eye on Castano and Lopez, but blending with the crowd for now. Things are right on track.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a deep breath and lean against a wall in the back corridor. The coolness of the wall reminds you of the cool stone against your skin in that alleyway. You let the radio chatter in your earpiece fade as you remember the heat from Javi’s hands, the strength of his arms and chest, the smile on his lips when you told him ‘don’t stop.’ Heat pools in your lower belly, imagining what could have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You hear Javi’s voice in your ear and your eyes fly open. A few taps on your tablet and you’re watching video from a nearby camera. Bateman is gripping his abdomen and grimacing in pain.

“Yeah, just this stomach ache. I’ve had it for days.” Bateman gestures to his lower right side. Something tells you that’s no mere stomach ache.

Quickly, yet calmly, you bustle over to their location and assume your best event coordinator voice. “Sir, is everything alright? Can I get you some water?”

Bateman tries to wave you off, but is interrupted as another wave of pain hits him and he doubles over. Javi watches his partner and concern knits his brow.

“Boss, the targets are headed in your direction, I think they’re trying to check out what’s going on,” Tran’s falsetto says over the radio.

You lay a hand on Bateman’s shoulder, lowering your voice to say, “We need to get him out of here.”

You put your arm around Bateman’s hunched shoulders and say loudly enough for some of the looky-loos to hear you, “Everything’s alright, Sir. Please come with me.” You give a meaningful look to Javi and gesture for him to come with you.

The gallery owners have a small office in the back that’s part of a larger storage area with a loading dock for larger works of art. You take Bateman and Javi back to the office, passing through the swarm of catering staff, who have been using the storage room as their staging area. Pulling out one of the office chairs, you guide Bateman to sit. Diaz bursts into the small room, dressed in the typical black attire of private security, worry etched across his face.

“Nick? Talk to me – what’s happening?” Diaz’s voice is a bit tremulous, but he takes charge and gets on the radio to report an agent down. You’ve seen how close Diaz and Bateman are at the office and wonder if there’s something more between them than friendship.

Javi catches your eye and nods his head to the side, indicating for you to both exit the office. Following him a bit down the hallway, you step close to his side to escape the bustle of caterers with trays of hors d'oeuvres.

“What’s happening?” Javi wipes a hand over his mustache and flicks a finger at your tablet.

He leans over to look at your screen and you swipe through several views until you spot Castano sipping on champagne and Lopez looking bored. The latter was the one, if memory serves, who made the comment about modern art being just a bunch of splattered paint.

The scent of Javi’s cologne and his closeness make your hands tremble. You haven’t been this close to him since he almost kissed you. In fact, his face was near enough to your own that you could easily turn your head and place your lips to the side of his neck or shoulder. Your head swims at the thought.

Hazarding a glance up, you see out of the corner of your eye that Javi isn’t looking at your tablet anymore either. His chest rises and falls, brushing your arm with every inhale. Those dark chocolate eyes are nearly black, his pupils wide and intense. Seconds tick by that could be minutes, both of your bodies frozen in place.

Movement on the screen in your hands catches your attention and breaks the reverie. You can’t let yourself be distracted by whatever is happening between you and Javi. Not now, on this big of a case – your first opportunity to really prove that you’re capable on your own, and not someone who fucks their way up the ranks.

Javi takes half a step back, and you clamp your teeth down on your lower lip to stifle a sigh at your loss. How the hell are you supposed to focus with all of these feelings and urges flying through your body?

Clearing his throat, Javi rasps, “I better get back out there.”

You nod your head in agreement. “Yeah. That’s good, I’ll - uh, check on Bateman.” Javi moves to leave but pauses.

“You’re doing great,” he whispers next to your ear, his touch on your lower back light as a feather before slipping off back into the crowded gallery. You fight the urge to run after him and shift your focus back to Bateman. Stepping back into the office, Diaz is already on the radio, arranging transportation for the two of them to the hospital.

“I think it’s his appendix,” Diaz says to you quietly when you walk over.

You grimace. Shit.

Bateman was chosen to be Javi’s partner in this operation because he could carry a conversation about art and make it convincing. Javi – to use his own words again – doesn’t know shit about art.

Looking down at your tablet, you tap through the various video feeds and see that the narcos are in the same section of the gallery as Javier. Switching the channel on your earpiece, you listen in on the audio feed coming from his wire.

You’re not sure if Javi is genuinely distressed over Bateman’s condition, or if he’s acting it up to try and draw the attention of the narcos, but you can hear his labored breathing from his wire. Could he be nervous? You select the video feed with the best vantage and see Javi rubbing the back of his neck and fiddling with his tie.

With Javi’s breathing in your ear, you make up your mind. You can’t let him finish this alone.

“Diaz, you got this?”

“Yes, ma’am. Transport will be here in less than five minutes.”

You’re already setting down your tablet and removing the curlicue wire from behind your ear.

“Good. Report in once you get him seen to.” Diaz nods, but watches you curiously.

Next goes your blazer and the clip holding your hair back. You grab your purse and find the red lipstick, quickly applying a fresh coat to your lips.

“Well, how do I look? Can I pass as a shady art dealer’s girlfriend?” You step back and smooth down the dress you were wearing under the blazer.

You don’t have many occasions to wear the black cocktail dress, but for tonight you needed something more stylish than your regular work clothes. Its V-neckline is relatively modest, but the smooth material clings to your curves in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Diaz gives you a once over and says, “With all due respect, Boss…you look hot.”

“Thanks,” you fluff your hair a bit, using your reflection in the office’s window. “Bateman, take it easy. We’ve got this.” Bateman groans in response and you rush out the door.

You’re flying blind now – no eyes or ears on anything but what’s in front of you. Tran spots you and cocks her head quizzically, but otherwise doesn’t break her cover as she approaches you with a tray of champagne flutes.

Grabbing a glass, you mutter, “Bateman is down, I had to do something.” She nods and quirks an amused lip.

“I like your dress,” she mutters back. You toss back the rest of the champagne in your glass for courage, and Tran hands you another to take its place.

“Thanks, so does Diaz.” Tran snorts and pivots to offer champagne to a cluster of guests nearby.

The three of you gelled almost immediately, and you felt immensely grateful. Their support on the case made you feel at ease with being in charge of a team. You wonder if Javi assigned Diaz and Tran on purpose, thinking you’d all suit one another.

Javier, Castano, and Lopez are still in the same gallery space, admiring adjacent pieces. Well, Lopez is digging a finger into his ear, but at least Castano seems genuinely interested.

Seemingly more relaxed now, Javi stands with his back slightly to you, leaving his body language open to the targets. But you already know him better than the casual observer. The veins in Javi’s neck are more prominent, and you tamp down the urge to lick them. He’s practically vibrating like a plucked wire, but his shoulders are relaxed, one hand casually in his pocket. Fuck, he looks good in that suit.

Taking a deep breath, you decide you’ll just have to go for it. It’s just for tonight, after all.

“Babe!” A few people turn their heads to look at you, including the three men you needed to take notice.

You shuffle over on your tiptoes to not break an ankle in your heels, and Javi – to his credit – doesn’t react beyond a shift in his eyes and a twitch of his jaw.

“Oh, my god! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, babe.” You practically throw yourself at Javi and cling to his side. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other hand coming out of his pocket to lightly grasp your bare arm.

“I saw poor Nicky – he didn’t look so good,” you say, placing your free hand on Javi’s chest and adding a touch of real concern to your voice.

Javier’s entire demeanor shifts with you in his arms, his body relaxes, immediately falling into lockstep with you. You’re impressed at how quickly he responds to this curveball. Neither of you could have prepared for something like this.

“Yeah, he decided to head home, probably just ate something bad.” Javi took everything in stride. “You’re feeling okay, right?” He pulls back a bit to take you in, like he’s checking you over for bumps and bruises.

“Yeah, baby, I’m okay. But…” you drop your voice to a stage whisper, aware that at least Lopez is paying attention to this little charade. “What about the you-know-what?”

Javi glances around like he’s worried somebody might hear you. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. He wasn’t moving it until next week anyway.” Javi kisses your temple. You nod, seemingly pacified, and offer your glass to him.

He smirks, and instead of taking it from your hand, he leans down and places his lips to the rim. You let out a little giggle and tilt the glass for him. A little dribbles over the side of his mouth, dripping off his mustache. Letting out a mock tutting sound, you wipe it away with your thumb and lick the remnants from your skin.

Your eyes meet, and you melt a bit, seeing that Javi’s pupils are completely blown.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” you tease, managing to regain composure.

“I know exactly where you can take me,” he fires back, and – to your utter shock and private enjoyment – squeezes your ass.

“Babe!” You gasp, and hit him playfully on the arm. Looking around nervously, you notice Lopez staring lasciviously at this public display, and you still, clearing your throat. Javi notices, and follows your gaze to Lopez, who is now adjusting his pants by his gaudy belt buckle.

“Hey - qué pasa contigo?” Javi’s face morphs into something serious and intimidating.

The two men exchange some words in rapid Spanish, and Castano gets involved. You’re genuinely flummoxed, not understanding what the men are saying, but it’s clear Castano is trying to apologize for Lopez’s rudeness and making amends.

You tug at Javi’s arm to pull him back to you, running a soothing hand over his chest. “Come on, baby. It’s fine.”

“I want an apology,” Javi says, stubbornly.

“Lo siento, Señor,” Lopez mutters, and Javi shakes his head.

“An apology to her,” he clarifies, his eyes boring holes into Lopez’s forehead.

Lopez repeats himself, but can’t meet your eyes. Castano steps forward and reaches out a hand. Without thinking, you place your hand in his, and he holds it between his own. You know what this man before you is capable of, what he’s suspected and guilty of, and you fight the urge to shudder.

“Miss, I am so sorry for my associate’s bad manners,” Castano begins in lightly accented English. “When a woman as beautiful as you is nearby, any man would take notice.”

Pretending to be flattered and appeased, you dip your head. Castano – a slim man of equal height – bends at the waist formally and brushes dry lips to your knuckles. You turn a disgusted curl of your lip into a demure smile.

“Thank you,” you simper.

Javi says something to Castano in Spanish, and the two begin to converse, their tone much more pleasant now with formalities out of the way. He drops his arm from your waist and joins Castano at the painting he’d been admiring.

You catch Lopez’s eye and let the corner of your mouth tilt up as you take a sip of your champagne, now warm and flat. The man – squat, with a thick unibrow under a greasy forehead – is the kind of fish you want to keep on the hook for a while. It lets them think they’re winning.

“Cariño,” Javi says and beckons you to join the men.

Sauntering over, you let the high heels do their job and smile sweetly up at him. The conforming dress rises up your thighs a bit higher than you’d be comfortable with in real life, but you decide to leave the hem where it rests when you see Javi’s eyes rake over your exposed skin. The hair on your arms stands up, and the heat in your core begins to rise.

“Señor Castano has a question about this piece, and I told him you were the brains between us,” he winks, and your breath hitches.

Over the next ten minutes, you speak knowledgeably about the art on exhibit in the gallery. You’d never felt more grateful for the times Marcus would get excited about a case or piece of evidence and animatedly answer your questions while sharing takeout from one of your regular haunts. There’s a sudden pang in your chest.

Just as suddenly, Javi is right behind you, stroking the backs of his fingers up and down a bare arm. His left hand is on your hip, caressing his thumb over the thin fabric of your dress. You relax into his touch, melting back into him until you feel the swell of your ass meet the front of his pants.

Javi sucks in a sharp breath, and his fingers on your hip tighten their grip. You’re trying to focus on Castano’s words, but you feel Javi’s breath shudder a bit as he makes the smallest of movements with his hips, pressing himself into your ass.

“...and that’s why we’re here tonight, drinking champagne, admiring the works of art on display… and speaking with beautiful women,” Castano finishes. The smile on his face would be genuinely charming if you didn’t already know what a deplorable human being he is.

“Mi amor loves talking about art, I only wish I knew more. She and my partner could talk all night about our latest deals–” Javi stops himself short, pretending that he’s let something slip.

Castano’s eyes go sharp, but his smile barely changes. Showing a bit of intelligence, even Lopez perks up at this false faux pas. You’re surprised he was even listening, he’s been so busy shoveling canapes into his mouth and ogling the other women nearby.

“Ah, so you are art dealers then!” Castano exclaims. “Little wonder Señorita is so knowledgeable.”

You move your left hand to caress Javi’s on your hip. Not sure if Castano thinks you and Javi are married, or he’s just being polite, you’d rather play it safe and leave your ring fingers out of his sight until you and Javi can speak privately.

“My partner is really the art dealer, it’s a shame you couldn’t meet him tonight. I’m just another man of business.”

“And what line of business are you in, Señor?” Castano asks.

“Please, call me Javi,” he says with a casual wave of his free hand. “And I’m in whatever line of business is good – I’ve done a bit of this, a bit of that. Here, have my card.”

Javi fishes out the prop business card from the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket. “I represent my client’s business interests, whatever they may be.”

Castano takes the card and glances it over, then hands it to Lopez to hold. “And your clients are interested in art?”

“Some are. That’s how I met mi alma. She was working at the private gallery my new partner owns.” Javi stands next to you, keeping his fingers locked with yours on your hip, and smiles down at you.

You have to remind yourself that none of this is real, it’s all for the cover – and a last-minute cover, at that. None of this was supposed to happen. But standing there, basking in the warmth of Javi’s affection, your heart races a bit and you give him a genuine smile in return.

“And the rest is history,” you finish with a small shrug of your shoulder, then rest your head on Javi’s shoulder for a second. Lopez’s phone rings and he turns away to answer it quietly, then taps Castano on the shoulder deferentially.

“Well, Javi, Señorita,” Castano nods at each of you in turn. “I would love to treat you to dinner soon. I have a new case of vintage bordeaux and a new painting I’m looking for any excuse to show off. I’ll have my associate call to make the arrangements. Please, bring your business partner.”

Javi nods and shakes Castano’s hand. The two men leave, and you see Lopez stuff a napkin full of food into his suit pocket. Castano rolls his eyes in exasperation and glides away to the front exit.

Javi gives your waist a squeeze, and you turn to face him, smiles on both of your faces. You hover for a minute, just in case the men return, but then Tran comes by with another tray of champagne.

“May I take your glass, ma’am?” Javi takes the glass from your hand and sets it gently on the tray. He busies himself by taking another so Tran can murmur, “They’re off the premises, tracking in place.”

Javi nods and sips the champagne. Tran moves away once more. A couple beats pass, and Javi sets the champagne down on a nearby cocktail table, grips your hand tightly, and starts pulling you in the direction of the back office.

This time you struggle more to keep up with him, not in your usual office attire. Javi is pulling at his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt. In the back storage area, Javi drops your hand and makes a beeline into the small office.

You slow almost to a stop, a bit winded from practically jogging in heels. Javi turns and meets your eye. Seeing the intensity in his face, you pause before the threshold and worry flits across your mind.

Maybe Javi’s actually upset with you for going rogue, for jumping in and messing with the plan. Maybe he’s just really good undercover, and you projected your own desires onto his smiles and touches. He silently crooks two fingers, bidding you to join him in the office.

Steeling your spine, preparing for a fight, you pull your shoulders back and strut into the office. Closing the door behind you, you take a breath, ready to go toe-to-toe with Javi if that’s what it takes to prove you were in the right.

You made an executive decision in what could have been a crisis, and you’ll stand by that judgment call. You did what a good leader is supposed to do when plans go south. Everything worked out with the narcos, and even if they don’t take the bait and call, you still have tracking and surveillance on them.

Javi remains silent, finishes unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his freckled skin underneath. He removes the wire taped to his chest, then sets it down on the desk and switches off the receiver. You open your mouth, prepared to state your defense.

In two strides, Javi closes the distance between you and takes your mouth in a crushing kiss. You throw your arms around his neck and his hands grip the backs of your bare thighs, lifting you effortlessly and setting you onto the desk.

Deepening the kiss, Javi’s tongue plunders your mouth and he lets out a strangled grunt when you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush against your panty-clad pussy. Groaning, you feel his cock quickly getting hard and you soon realize you were already wet before he even started kissing you.

Javi kisses a searing trail across your jaw, the hairs of his mustache tickling the tender flesh under your ear as he nips at the lobe. You gasp and rut against the front of his pants.

“You are – fucking – incredible,” Javi growls in your ear, grinding his straining cock against the damp spot on your panties for emphasis. Your breathing is shallow, and you cling to his broad back as he continues his way down your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he adds, then gently sinks his teeth into the flesh between your neck and shoulder, eliciting a small whimper from your lips.

Letting your head loll to the side, willing him to take whatever he desires, you whisper, “Javi, please…”

You can feel his mustache turn up as he smiles, his path across your clavicle interrupted.

“‘Please’, what, cariño?” His wide hands roam up the expanse of your back, then down to massage the meat of your hips and ass. You rock yourself against his cock again, but he holds your hips still and pulls back to look into your wrecked face, lifting an eyebrow in question.

“Fuck, Javi–” You rebel against the grip of his hands, trying to feel that pressure from his hard cock again, but he stops you. He mimics your tut-tut from earlier out in the gallery, and pulls his hips away from yours. You lock your ankles behind him, trying in vain to keep him in place.

Javi smacks a hand against the flesh of your ass that’s still covered by your dress, which luckily muffles the sound. Your mouth pops open in surprise, and you look at him. The intensity in his face has returned, but there’s no malice in his eyes, just hunger. Without a word exchanged, you unhook your ankles from behind his waist and let your legs spread open.

Javi lets out a satisfied moan from deep in his chest. “Mm, somebody trained you well, cariño.”

You let out a shuddering breath and Javi leans in to capture your bottom lip between his, sucking it between his teeth before letting it go with a soft pop. You nod, just barely, and wait for him to continue.

“I bet I can guess who it was,” he teases, then his tone changes. “Stand up and turn around. Palms on the desk.”

Javi pulls away and walks the two steps to the door, never looking away as he watches you follow his command. Your dress is now hitched up onto your hips, your ass presented to him.

Before he can lock the door, a tentative knock on the other side makes both of you jump. You immediately straighten up and pull your dress down, while Javi checks through the blinds in the door’s window.

“Tran,” he mouths.

You try to smooth your hair down and Javi opens the door and quickly turns away, busying himself with the wire and receiver on the desk, as though he’d just turned it off.

Clearing her throat, Tran stands in the doorway, not meeting your eye and says, “Boss, Diaz just reported in. Bateman is getting an emergency appendectomy, but he should be fine. They got him to the ER before it got too bad.”

Both you and Javi let out sighs of relief. “Thanks, Tran. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

Tran glances between you and Javi, and gives you a sly smile. “Sure thing, Boss. Have a good night.” She winks and closes the office door behind her. You’ll have to deal with that later.

“Fuck me,” you sigh and sink down in the office chair. All the adrenaline of the evening was starting to make your legs shaky. Javi sits a hip on the corner of the desk in a way that reminds you of Pike.

“That’s kind of what I was trying to do,” he tosses his head at the door. “Before we got interrupted.”

“It was very rude,” you agree, both of you sharing a smirk before going quiet.

“Listen,” Javi swipes a thumb at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know if this is a good idea–” You put a hand on his knee to stop him.

“But it’s what I want. And you obviously want it too,” you look pointedly at his crotch, where his aroused state is still quite evident, despite the interruption.

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he states emphatically. “It’s just…” He sighs and places his hand over yours. “I recognize what a huge deal this case is for you, for professional and personal reasons.”

Javi pulls you to stand and cups your face. “I couldn’t live with myself if I fucked that up for you.”

You sigh, and think for a moment.

“Javi, no offense, but that’s bullshit.”

“What?” He pulls back in surprise.

“First, you’re giving yourself way too much credit,” you chuckle to break the tension, then grow serious. “Secondly, I’m a grown ass woman who can make her own choices. If anything gets fucked up, it’s because I made a decision, so I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Javi takes a deep breath, evaluating your words. You can see that he doesn’t like the idea of what those consequences may be, nor the thought of you being the one to deal with them.

He swears under his breath in Spanish, looking to the heavens for help, then leans in and kisses you. Gently at first, then more persistently, holding your face until you’re both breathing heavily through your noses. He breaks the kiss and you both take a deep breath.

“Okay, ‘grown ass woman,’” he says, and you let out a small laugh. “I’ve got a choice for you to make.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Your place or mine?”

Chapter 8 - Coming Soon!

Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜

#senorabond writes #rumor has it fic #javi x reader x pike #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena narcos #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike

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mommieswithmuscles · 12 days

Text

Photographer!Abby x Scrapbooker!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No minors and No men

CW: fluff, angst, no smut but it has a suggestive scene, insecure!reader, mention of suicidal tendencies

Based on this song:

Title: No Flash Photography

You're at the dinner table, going through photos Abby had printed out. She reprinted everything so you could have a copy to put in the ever growing scrapbook you have yet to properly bind.

Each bin she gave you had a title so you could organize better. Nature, gatherings, events, us, and polaroids. You start with the one called nature.

You trim the edges with scissors before securing them in the special photo paper with bug stickers. The dual page is a collage of your trip to a national park. It's mostly shrubbery, plants, trees, and water, but there are some animals and insects sprinkled in.

You turn the page and make another collage out of the open space, both sides decorated with a yarn trim. Gatherings weren't really your thing, but Abby liked them, and you obviously like Abby, so you go to each one. You admire how she always brings her big camera.

The next collage is your brother's wedding. Him and his partner are dressed accordingly. You wore basic attire, Abby wore a plain suit. "When are you both getting married?" He had asked after Abby's camera shot the photo.

"Eventually," Abby answered for you both. You nodded in agreement. You knew you underdressed to match the other guests, but you couldn't help but feel you're taking away from the newlyweds. Abby caught onto your dismissive behavior and took you home early.

Shaking your head to clear out the memory, you continue to dig through the bin and retrieve more pictures. A few birthday parties, a couple engagement parties, some random game nights. You secure them with glitter glue, putting more of the colorful yarn around the trims like LEDs.

Pictures of you always have to have Abby. Otherwise you want nothing to do with them and tend to throw them away. Abby's trying to help you with your insecurity, but for some reason you can't work past it. You sigh, pulling out ones you convince yourself you like. Mostly dates, but a few random ones from trips catch your attention, so you add them. The pictures are secured with affirmation stickers that Abby bought you a few months back, when you first started scrapbooking.

The bin you were most nervous for was polaroids. You know they're mostly you, and you know they make Abby happy, but... you get upset every time you look at pictures of yourself.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Abby sits next to you, done with her work for the week. She came out of her office as soon as she was able to. Her hand cups your cheek, thumb ready to swipe away the unshed tears.

"I can't do it. I fucking- I can't, Abby. It's too hard." You kick the bin.

"Why don't I help you?" She presses her lips to your forehead. "We can start with holidays. Would that work?"

"Do it yourself," you bite.

"Don't start that. I know you're upset. I know these make you upset-"

"So why do you make me look at them? I told you that you could keep them, and now-" you gesture to the bin. "We don't need to share everything, especially not these."

"I make you look at them because I'm trying to show you what I see." She's patient. Too patient. Maybe if she could ever be mad at you, or fight with you instead of talk things out, maybe it would hurt less.

The thoughts start to spiral before you can stop them. All of the self worth and self esteem you had built towards crumbling in seconds. And there's Abby, taking care of you because you can't handle something as stupid as putting pictures in a book. Maybe you were better off-

"Eyes on me baby," her voice is gentle. Her hands guide you to face her, thumbs taking away the tears trailing down your cheeks. "That's my girl," she whispers. "You're so kind, and beautiful, and I love you more than anything. I'm glad you came into my life because you're the compass to my map. I wouldn't have it any other way. I've never been more happy than when I've been with you. I married you because you're my person. You're the moon to my stars, the sun for my flowers, and every breath I take with you fills my lungs with fresh air. I know you're in a darker place. And that's ok. We can work you through it step by step." She pulls you into her lap, rubbing your back as you bury yourself in her neck. You can smell your perfume on her. "You're safe, you're loved, you're home." Abby kisses your temple.

After you calm down, Abby lets you go. "Thank you," you sniffle, getting up to grab some tissues.

"Anything for you, my love." You get back to see Abby gluing small, flat, silver tack backs on the polaroids to secure them on the page. It looks like a cork board. Some of the photos are strung on yarn, some singles floating about, and one standing out the most. It's one of you genuinely smiling, tugging Abby along as you make your way to your destination.

"Come on, it's this way!" You had said, nearly dragging Abby through the mud. She's laughing behind you, scooping you up and kissing you once you got to the surprise spot at the creek. She kept her hands under your thighs when your legs wrapped around her waist.

"This view is almost as stunning as you are," Abby said as she put you down.

"Oh hush," you pushed her away lightly. "Ass-kisser."

"No, no, you don't know," she shook her head, voice mocking. She laid with you in the short grass, dirt dry under your backs. You initiated the contact, but she kissed you first, hands traveled along your body until you were gasping for air and begging for her.

"Baby? Where'd you go just now?" Abby's fingers tickle at your jaw as she cups your face.

"Here," you point at the picture you got lost in.

"I'm going to start dinner. Today seems like it was hard for you, and you could use some time away from the pictures for now. You- or we- can start back up soon, ok?"

"Ok," you agree easily. She's right. It's better to take a break, than let something be ruined.

#Spotify #no men allowed #no minors allowed #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby the last of us 2 #abby x reader #fluff #angst #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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mochie85 · 10 months

Text

Wanderlust

Part 1 of the Wanderlust Series.

Wanderlust Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You try to convince your best friend to go on a long road trip with you. Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Word Count: 694 (a drabble, really) Warnings: Fluff. ALL fluff. A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty June Monthly Challenge: Summer Vibes. I picked a tent (can the VW Bus be considered a tent?) and the Road setting. I don't know if I should continue with the story. I mean, I have some ideas, but I don't think there's an actual plot...lol. Edit: It's decided...it's now a series...I hope y'all are happy!

The one thing you wanted to do before you started your new job was to visit the national parks in your state. You graduated with honors and had multiple job offers in the tech industry because of the algorithm you created for your senior project.

Tech careers were unpredictable and oftentimes fleeting. But you were confident that your innovative program would help kick-start your career and cement your position in the company that you chose for a long while.

That’s why you wanted to go out and travel. See nature! Just before you commit to a desk and computer for the rest of your foreseeable future.

“Do you know how big California is?” Bucky asked you agitated.

“Yes, I do,” you answered back with a cheeky grin.

“California has the greatest number of national parks!” he pointed at the map.

“Yes. Nine! And that doesn’t include the monuments and the trails and the memorials-”

“No!”

“Well, I’m not asking for your permission.”

“I still say, ‘no.’”

“I’ll go with or without you, Buck. I just thought you should know my plan.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is out there? Especially if you’re alone.”

“I can take care of myself. I did take that self-defense class for a couple of months,” you reasoned.

“Why can’t you go somewhere that has- Look, Nevada! Nevada has one national park. The Great Basin. And hey…we could even hit up Vegas while we’re there!” Bucky pointed at the map.

“Oh, ya cuz I would really be safe from creep-o’s in Vegas!” you rolled your eyes at your best friend.

“Ok. What about Hawaii? Hawaii has two national parks! And it’s HA-WA-II!”

“Do you know how much that plane ticket would cost? I haven’t started my job yet. Besides, who would watch Smokey while I was away?”

“You’re bringing the dog?!”

“Of course, I’m bringing the dog! Smokey goes where I go.” And as if he was called, your large greyhound came over licking your hand under the table. “We’re gonna have so much fun in our Bus-Bus, aren’t we, Smokey?!”

“And another thing?! How sure are you that the rusted piece of metal you call a car will actually take you around California? You’d probably break down before you get south of Oakland!”

“I had my mechanic look at it! Sid said it was in good shape! Plus I can call a tow if I need to.”

Bucky just looked at you defeated. He knew there was no convincing you out of this hair-brained plan of yours. You had always been a person to stick to your guns as soon as you planned it out. ‘No Regrets,’ you had always said.

No Regrets, Bucky repeated in his head trying to decide what to do. Nine parks! Nine! It would take you a month and a half to finish that round trip. And that’s only if you decided to stay at each park for a couple of nights, not the week you were planning.

“All right. All right. I’ll go with you.” Bucky relented, placing his head in his hands.

“I didn’t ask you to, Buck,” you chuckled, trying to hide the relief on your face.

“Bullshit! You knew I was going with you the moment you told me about it.” He called out your bluff. You shrieked and held your arms out to Bucky’s neck, embracing him in a tight hug.

“You and I are gonna have so much fun! You’re not gonna regret this.”

“Ya, ya, ya.” Bucky relished in your warm embrace. You smelled like sun-kissed fruit on a lazy afternoon. You felt like a cool breeze that just wafted into his life unexpectedly and decided to stay. Erupting his life into chaos.

You pulled away looking into his deep blue eyes. He narrowed them as if he saw something in you that he had never seen before.

“Ok, we leave right after graduation! And you can’t take it back now Barnes. You’re in this with me till the end!” You smiled at him. Your cheeks were puffy and red, carrying a dimple that he wanted to caress.

“Lord, help me.” He whispered under his breath.

⬅️Wanderlust Masterlist | The Redwoods➡️

🏷️ My "ALL" Taglist: @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee

#bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader insert #Loki x original female character #bucky x yn #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky au #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier

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underground-secret · 8 months

Text

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

description: The boys and Y/N are still looking for John Winchester, now following after the coordinate clue he left.

warnings: cannon violence, blood, death, missing persons, usage and mention of guns, cursing (i think)

tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

word count: 6,856

Wendigo

(Masterlist/ Next Chapter)

November 10, 2005

Sam jerks awake from the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean driving while a song from the Foreigner’s plays from the radio.

“You okay?” Dean asks voice clear with concern

Sam glances at him and then away, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Another nightmare?” Dean asks him, but Sam doesn't answer, only clearing his throat

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asks instead.

I look up from my book, with a questioning look.

Sam laughs practically reading my mind, “Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that.”

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” Dean brushes off.

“Awwww, Dean, you softie” I say smiling widely with a laugh.

He catches my eyes in the rear view mirror giving me a gruff “No”, but the glint in my eye doesn't go away nor does the smile on my face.

He can deny it all he wants but I know he’s a softie, it’s one of the many many things I love about him…that made me fall for him

Sam laughs, piggy backing off of my teasing, “Look, man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

“Mm-hm” Dean hums, and I have to agree with him here. There’s no way Sam’s okay, his girlfriend just died in front of him in the same way his mom was killed, I don’t think anyone would be okay after that.

Sam rolls his eyes, grabbing a map from the glove department, “All right, where are we?”

“We are just outside of Grand Junction.” Dean responds.

Sam folds the map, “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

“Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—“ Dean reasons getting cut off by Sam

“We gotta find Dad first.”

“Dad disappearing—and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.” Dean remarked.

“It's weird, man.These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.” Sam points out.

“Hm? What about it?” I ask

“There's nothing there. It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?” Sam answers.

“Lots of things could be and or happen in the woods.” I explain just as we drive past a National Forest sign reading "Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest".

The Impala is parked next to a sign that says "RANGER STATION Lost Creek Trail, Lost Creek National Forest". Meanwhile we’re inside, Dean looking at the decorations while I look at the trinkets around.

Sam’s being the helpful one here looking at a 3D map of the forest, “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.” He informs.

“Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.” Dean calls out looking at a framed photo of a man standing behind a much larger bear.

“And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure.” Sam adds on looking at the photo.

“This will certainly be interesting then” I murmur, picking up a little wooden bear from a shelf holding it up for the boys to see.

“You guys aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” A Ranger says from behind the boys, both of them whipping around startled.

I put the little bear down quickly, locking my hands behind my back with a tight smile on my face.

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam covers laughing a little.

Dean grins raising a fist, “Recycle, man.”

I have to bite on the inside of my cheek to not laugh, so as to not break our cover.

“Bull” the Ranger calls, and suddenly I don’t feel like laughing.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” he adds

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger…Wilkinson.” Dean goes along with it.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?” Ranger Wilkinson stated.

Dean shakes his head as the Ranger goes on,

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will. Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?” Dean replied.

“That is putting it mildly.”

“Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.” Dean adds, clever guy.

We leave the station, Dean holding the paper he asked for laughing

“What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?” Sam asks him.

“Ew, please don’t answer that.” I groan, trying to ignore the pang that rings through my heart at the mere suggestion.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, looking between me and Sam.

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam explains, rounding the car to the passenger side.

“I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?” Dean reasons.

There’s a pause where no one says anything nor do we move to get into the car.

“What?” Sam asks

“Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?” Dean asks back in return.

“Since now.” He answers, opening the car door and entering.

“Really?” Dean looks from me to the car.

I took a step forward giving Dean’s upper arm a reassuring squeeze. It was meant to be helpful at best but squeezing his arm made me feel the hard muscle underneath his jacket and my head went blank for just one second, my hand lingering.

My face flushed as I gave him a quick smile, entering the car myself.

So much for being inconspicuous.

Dean didn’t move from outside the car for a moment longer, staring where I was standing previously, before throwing open the driver’s side door.

We stand outside the Collins house, the door opening by who I assume to be Haley Collins.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and that’s Y/N, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.” Dean introduces.

Haley hesitates, “Lemme see some ID.”

Clever girl, I have to admit.

Dean pulls out a fake ID holding it up against the screen. Haley looks at it, then at Dean, who smiles.

She takes the lie, opening the door for us, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Dean says simply.

“That yours?” Haley asks Dean, referring to the Impala out front.

“Yeah” He answers.

“Nice car” Shs compliments.

Their brief conversation ends as she leads us into the kitchen, some younger guy sitting at the table on a laptop.

In the corner of my eye I see Dean mouthing something to Sam who rolls his eyes back, but I couldn’t tell what it was about

“So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?” Sam starts off.

Haley places a bowl on the table answering, “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception.” Sam offers but that theory gets shut down quickly by Haley as she responds, “He's got a satellite phone, too.”

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean reasons.

The boy on the laptop answered this time, “He wouldn't do that.”

“Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” Haley explains.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asks her as she places food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She answers pulling the pictures up quickly,

“That's Tommy” she points.

She clicks two more times showing another picture and then a video, she presses play.

“Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

“We will find your brother.” I tell her with a reassuring smile as I continue, “We’ll be heading to Blackwater Ridge in the morning.”

“Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.” Haley claims voice and face full of determination.

“I think I know how you feel,” Dean pipes in.

“Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asks, cutting into the slightly heartfelt moment.

“Sure.”

The bar where we sat was a little loud, the sound of pool ringing in the background.

Sam sits across from Dean and I, me sitting on the inside of the booth; a habit we’d picked up when we were younger.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” Sam informs us opening John's journal

“Anything before that?” I ask him, leaning forward a bit more.

Sam pulls out newspaper articles sliding them between me and Dean.

“Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” Sam speaks as we read the article titled

‘The Lost Creek Gazette.’

GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS!

UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA

HIKERS DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES'

Families continue search and rescue efforts in spite of disappointing [...]

“And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936.” Sam adds, his laptop now pulled out.

“I know bears can be dangerous and all but do people really believe a bear is responsible for eight plus, people’s disappearance. There’s no way a bear would be so pattern like.” I say baffled.

“Yeah well people believe what they want to when nothing else makes sense” Sam answers opening his laptop, continuing with his information

“Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out.” He turns his computer towards Dean and I, going through three frames at a time. A shadow crosses the screen.

I squint at the shadow as Dean says, “Do it again.”

He adds, “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

“It’s actually just the reverse flash” I joke

Sam breathes a short laugh, understanding my reference, as he closes his laptop.

Dean looks between the both of us, “Nerds.”

I laugh nudging Dean with my body, “Oh you know you love us” I tease.

“Yeah yeah” he answers playfully, shoving me lightly.

Dean then hits Sam causing him to look up,“Anyway I told you something weird was going on.”

“Yeah, but I got one more thing” Sam adds, bringing back the serious energy. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

“Is there a name?”

Mr.Shaw, the only survivor of these attacks, leads us inside his house with a cigarette in his mouth as he talks to us “Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—“

Sam interrupts, “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw takes a puff of his cigarette, takes it out, and nods.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean adds, a pause hits the room before he continues, “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

Another pause, he adds, “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

“I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” Mr.Shaw sits down, “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

“Mr. Shaw trust me when I say that we’ve seen things, crazy things, there’s nothing you could tell us that we wouldn’t believe” I speak honestly.

He doesn’t answer for a beat, grumbling underneath his breath before finally responding, “Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?” Sam asks.

He nods.

Sam asks another question, “Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” Mr.Shaw clarifies.

“It killed them?” Sam questions.

“Dragged them off into the night.” Mr.Shaw shakes his head adding, “Why it left me alive...been asking myself that ever since.”

Another pause rings through the room before he lifts a hand to his collar, “Did leave me this, though.”

He opens his collar revealing three long scars, claw marks.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

LATER

We walk the length of the motel corridor, discussing our new found information.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.” Dean says.

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal.” Sam offers

“Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.” Dean mocks,

“Seriously, that's some big word use” I add on laughing.

“Shut up. So what do you think?” Sam ignores our teasing, well Deans teasing. I wasn't really joking, this time.

“The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean answers using Sam’s big word.

We exited the motel entering its parking lot, heading to the Impala.

Dean opens the truck and then the weapons box, propping it up with a shotgun, as he always does, before putting guns into a duffel bag.

“We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.” Sam reasons leaning in.

“Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?” Dean answers, and I have to agree.

“Yeah.” Sam replies.

“Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” Dean lists out.

“I gotta agree with Dean, there’s no way we’d be able to convince Haley anyways so there’s no point in trying.” I pipe in.

Dean picks up the duffel, throwing me a smile. Most likely because I agreed with him this time.

“And finding Dad's not enough? No we gotta babysit too?” Sam argues slamming the weapons box shut, then the trunk.

Dean stares at Sam.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Nothing.” He answers, throwing the duffel bag at Sam turning to walk away.

Sam stares at me and I shrug not knowing what that was about with Dean either.

The next day

The Impala pulls up. Haley, Ben (her other brother), and some other guy in shorts stare at us as we get out of the car.

I handed Sam the duffle bag that was riding with me in the back seat. Securing my brown messenger bag across my chest, carrying some more witchy belongings that might be of aid including my spell book.

“You guys got room for three more? Dean calls out.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Haley questions.

“Who are these guys?” Mystery man in shorts asks.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.” Haley comments, eyeing us up.

Sam heads past us all, clearly not wanting to be here any longer then we have to.

“You're rangers?” Shorts man asks.

“That's right.” Dean confirms.

And I can already tell that we’re going to be bumping heads with this shorts wearing guy.

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley picks out.

Dean looks down at himself causing me to look down at myself feeling a little conscious now that Haley pointed our outfits out. But hey I’m prepared for the cold wearing a long sleeve shirt, a black sweatshirt, my fleece corduroy jacket that I always wear, and…jeans (to me this seems very logical).

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.” Dean replies simply heading past Haley.

“Wait, I'm sorry, why would we wear shorts? It’s already cold out and as it gets darker that’s only going to worsen plus wearing shorts leaves you more vulnerable to whatever is out there.” I point behind,me towards the woods, adding, “And I’m just gonna assume here that you short wearing man are supposed to be this, uh, hunter? Haley mentioned yesterday.”

I hear Dean huff a laugh a couple steps in front of us.

Short wearing man didn’t take too kindly to my questioning, “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt. And it’s Roy.”

Sam turns back as Dean calls out behind him, “Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all.”

Dean passes Sam, and I begin walking after them.

The group hikes through the forest, Roy leading us followed by Dean, Haley, Ben, me, and then Sam holding up the rear.

“Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” Dean says, making conversation.

“Yeah, more than a little.” Roy answers, sounding quite proud.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?” Dean keeps the convo going.

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.”

Poor bears.

Dean passes Roy taking the lead, “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

I laugh maybe a little too hard, I bite my bottom lip remembering the serious circumstance in which we’re here.

Roy grabs Dean, “Whatcha doing, Roy?” he asks.

Roy grabs a stick poking something behind Dean.

A loud snap rings through the quiet forest, a bear trap, Dean was one step away from walking into a bear trap.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.” Roy drops the stick, retaking the lead.

Roy drops the stick and retakes the lead as we continue hiking.

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean points out.

I catch up to him, giving him a hit on the arm looking at him with a face full of worry. Has he been in more dangerous situations than a bear trap? Yes. But I can’t help but worry, even over the stupid things.

His face softens and he gives me a smile.

Haley caught up to us immediately calling out, “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.”

She grabs Dean's arm, “So who the hell are you?”

Ben passes us by, Sam and I look at Dean. He gives us a look that tells us to go, that he has it covered and we do.

LATER

Roy’s leading the way still, this time the following order is Sam, Ben, me, Haley and Dean.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy announces

Sam passed him as he asked, “What coordinates are we at?”

Roy pulls out a GPS, answering, “Thirty-five and minus one-eleven.”

Dean goes up to Sam, catching my wrist as he goes by pulling me after him.

“You hear that?” Dean asks. We listen. Its dead quiet.

“Yeah. Not even crickets.” Sam confirms.

“I'm gonna go take a look around.” Roy announces

“You really shouldn’t go off by yourself” I warn.

“That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me” He waves his gun pushing past us to retake the lead.

Stubborn shorts man.

Dean turns back to Ben and Haley as they catch up, “All right, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

Sam, Dean, Ben, Haley and I are looking around near a particularly large rock before we hear Roy yelling for Haley.

She runs over to his voice, the rest of us following closely.

“Oh my God.” The tents are torn open and bloody, all the supplies being scattered.

“Looks like a grizzly.” Roy announces.

We all sort of break off, not far from each other, looking around for any clues or anything of the sort.

Haley begins yelling for Tommy, practically throwing her backpack down as she goes through the campsite. Sam moves to catch up to her, I don’t hear the conversation as I focus on the tracks I found. But whatever he said got her to stop yelling

I crouch to see the tracks better, getting Dean's attention as he crouches next to me before calling out for Sam. He comes over, joining our crouching party.

“The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here” I point, “the tracks just vanish.”

“I’ll tell you what, that’s no skinwalker or black dog” Dean adds standing up, heading back to the campsite, Sam and I following.

Haley’s picked up a cell phone that I assume is Tommy’s from the blood on it. She’s hunched over on the ground crying.

Dean crouches next to her, “Hey, he could still be alive.” he says reassuringly.

“Help! Help” a sudden voice yells out. Almost in sync, our heads snap towards the direction of the voice.

Roy leads the way everyone running after him

“Help! Somebody!” the voice yells out again.

But when we reached where it was coming from there was no one around.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asks and I nod.

“Everybody back to camp” Sam orders, we obey as we run back.

All of the supplies are missing, and suddenly I'm grateful for carrying my bag with me even if it only slightly got in the way of my running.

“Our packs!” Haley yells, pointing out the obvious.

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy mutters.

“What the hell is going on?” Haley commands.

“It's smart. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help.” Sam informs.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” Roy corrects.

Sam goes over to Dean and I as Roy goes on this ‘nutjob’ theory, “I need to speak with you, both. In private.”

We follow him a little bit away from the group, “Let me see Dad's journal.”

Dean hands it over, Sam opens it and flips through until he finds a particular page.

“All right, check that out.” Sam turns the book so we can see it better pointing to a First Nations–style drawing of a figure, more specifically a Wendigo.

“Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west.” Dean rationalizes.

“It does make sense though. I mean the claws and especially the way it can mimic a human voice” I explained. Getting eager head nods from Sam, “Exactly” he adds.

“Great. Then this is useless” Dean sighs,taking out his pistol. Being the only way to kill a Wendigo is silver through the heart or fire.

Sam gives back the journal heading past us back to camp before stopping, “We gotta get these people to safety.”

Back at the campsite, Sam addresses the group, “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

“What? Haley asks.

“Kid, don't worry. Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy buds in and all I can think about is how stubborn this man is.

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.” Sam ordered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy lists out.

“Relax” Dean cuts in.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.” Sam says.

Roy steps up to Sam getting in his face, “You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.”

It’s then I decide I'm not going to get in the middle of this argument, seeing as this will definitely turn into a ‘who’s more macho’ sort of deal.

“Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.” Sam challenges.

Roy laughs, “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—“ Dean cuts Sam off, pushing him.

“Chill out.” Dean orders.

“Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.” Haley informs, and as much as it’s a stupid stubborn choice it is her brother.

There's a long pause before Dean speaks up, “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?”

It’s pitch dark out now, our only source of light being the campfire that was built.

Deans drawing a Anasazi symbol, for protection, around the campsite as the rest of us are kind of just sitting around the fire.

“One more time, that’s—“ Haley asks poking at the fire

“An anasazi symbol, it’s for our protection. The wendigo can’t cross over them” I explain for at least the fifth time.

Roy laughs, holding a gun over his shoulder.

I give him a sharp gaze as Dean says, “Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy.”

Dean finishes the symbol sitting next to Sam and I, Sam being in the middle.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asks him

“Dean—“

But Dean cuts him off, “No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

Feeling as this is going to turn personal quickly, more of a family/brotherly moment that wouldn’t include me, I get up giving them a nod and a look that lets them know I'm giving them privacy. I move to sit near Haley, instead.

A few minutes have gone before suddenly someone screams and it isn’t anyone in our group, “Help me! Please!”

It’s almost most definitely the wendigo.

I see Dean stand, readying his gun as another “Help!” rings through the normally quiet woods.

Sam pulled out a flashlight, throwing one to me before flashing it around in an attempt to see if the wendigo is close by, I follow suit doing the same.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put.” Dean commands.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy mocks.

“Jesus Christ Roy, yes!” I exclaimed, Roy getting on my nerves.

“Help! Help me” The wendigo yells, mimicking a human voice, growling following.

Roy points his gun at the sound, “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

Haley turns, talking to her younger brother, “It's okay. You'll be alright, I promise.”

Something rushes past, Haley shrieks.

“It’s here.” Sam announces.

Roy shoots the rustling, twice.

“I hit it” he yells running off to see what exactly he hit.

“Roy! No!” I yell after him

Dean turns to Haley and Ben, commanding them, “Don’t move.”

Haley grabs a stick lighting it on fire as a weapon. Dean gives me and Sam a nod, queuing us to run after Roy.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” Roy announces.

Sam and I use our flashlights, looking to see where Roy went. But we wind up with nothing.

It’s day now, hours since Roy went missing.

Now we sit trying to explain the whole supernatural stuff we encounter.

Sam’s sitting against a tree stump holding his dads journal whilst me, Dean, Haley, and Ben are among the tents

“I don't...I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real.” Haley states.

“I wish I could tell you different.” Dean replies, half shrugging.

“You can say that again” I mumble.

“How do we know it's not out there watching us?” Haley asks

“We don't. But we're safe for now.” Dean answers.

“How do you know about this stuff?” She asks

There’s a pause where you can see the gears turning in Dean's head as he considers an answer, “Kind of runs in the family.”

“Literally” I mermer underneath my breath, we hadn’t told them I was a Witch, which was probably for the better considering we’re being hunted by a Wendigo and they had just learned that the things in the dark are real.

Sam comes over, “Hey. So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

Haley stands nodding

“Well, hell, you know I'm in.” Dean answers, “Same here” I add.

Sam opens the journal to the wendigo page, turning the book around for Haley and Ben to see.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'.” Sam informs.

“They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.” Dean adds to the information.

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asks.

“Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.” Dean answers.

“Like the Donner Party.” Ben offers.

“Nice reference” I compliment before joining in on the info train, “And, uh, cultures all over the world actually believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities like speed, strength, immortality…” I trail off

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry.” Dean adds on.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley points out.

“You're not gonna like it.” Dean answers simply, glancing from Sam to me then back to Haley.

“Tell me.” She orders.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.” Dean finishes.

“And then how do we stop it?” Haley asks

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically we gotta torch the sucker.” He holds up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth aka the makings of a molotov cocktail.

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

Dean leads the group, molotov cocktail in hand, as we follow the trail of claw marks on trees and blood.

It’s a while later when Sam starts leading the group.

“Dean. Y/N”

We catch up quickly, “mhm?” I hum in question

“You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow.” Sam talks, pointing out the bloody broken tree branches.

“Ah fric-“ My commentary gets cut off by growling, we whip around the trees rustling.

Haley’s standing under a tree looking up, blood dripping on her. When suddenly she leaps out of the way a corpse falling to the ground with a thud.

Roy’s corpse.

“His neck's broken.” Dean announces, examining the body as Sam helps Haley up.

More growling surrounds us.

“Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!” Dean yells and without a second thought we take off. The sounds of our boots hitting the soft dirt.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam retreating backwards, I stop running, turning to see if he’s okay.

Bens on the ground, getting hauled up by Sam. I head closer towards them in case the wendigo decides to show up knowing I can at the very least hold it off.

“Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha.” Sam reassures Ben, as we start running again.

A scream, noticeably Haley’s racks the forest.

“Haley” Ben asks skidding to a stop.

Sam and I stop running, noticing that Dean and Haley are nowhere to be seen.

Sam bends down picking up Deans molotov cocktail, the bottles broken.

“Dean!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?” Ben asks, walking in front of us.

“Roys shooting probably pissed it off” I answer wrapping my arms around myself, hoping the worry in my voice isn’t apparent.

Ben leans down picking something up, turning towards us holding up a peanut m&m. He moves over revealing a trail of them, “They went this way.”

I smile, Ben hands over the m&m to Sam who laughs.

“It's better than breadcrumbs.”

He tosses the piece of chocolate away.

We follow the trial carefully, coming up to a mine entrance marked with a sign that reads

‘WARNING! DANGER! DO NOT ENTER EXTREMELY TOXIC MATERIAL.’

We all look at each other shrugging before entering.

Sam leads the way, flashlight shining ahead.

There’s a sudden growl, he quickly turns the light off pulling Ben and me against the wall.

A tall white figure with long fingers stalks towards us, Sam having to cover Ben's mouth before he screams.

The Wendigo takes a different tunnel, only just missing us.

We keep going, the floors creaking below our feet.

A particular step made the floor creak a little too much, but before I can even take another step forward the floor collapses underneath us.

I groan quietly at the hard landing, trying to contain my coughing from the dust and destroyed wood. I looked down, noticing that the hard landing was a pile of bones.

I get up swiftly feeling grossed out, Ben must have just noticed the bones as he leaps backwards. Sam helps him up as he reassuringly says, “Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.”

We look up, finding Dean and Haley hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. My eyes widen and I feel my heart physically drop. I’ve been hunting before, even with Dean a couple of times. But I've never seen him hurt, not like this, not during a hunt, not being tied up.

Sam runs to Dean, Ben to Haley.

“Y/N! Cover us?” Sam orders and I move, breaking out of my freezing. I have my back towards the others, my hands lit up with pure white energy, ready for the wendigo. I knew it wouldn’t kill it, but at least I could keep it back.

“Haley, wake up!” Ben yells and I’m tempted to turn around but I know I shouldn’t.

“Dean!” Sam yells.

“Hey, you okay?” I hear Sam ask from behind me.

I hear Dean suck in a breath behind me, “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!” Ben yells again.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam cut down Dean and then Haley, moving them to an empty patch of floor. As they move I follow, still covering them.

Dean makes a pained noise. I clench my fists, the white energy still surging around them.

“Dean, you okay?” I ask, still not turning around.

He groans in pain, “Yeah. Yep. Where is he?”

“He’s gone for now” I answer simply.

Haley runs past me to a figure hanging in the corner, she starts crying, it’s then that I know it’s Tommy.

She touches his face gently, his head jerks up and she jumps back with a shriek. She turns towards me, eyeing me and the boys behind me, I don’t make eye contact.

Not because I don’t want to help but because I don’t want her to see my eyes, knowing my irises would be purple. Stupid thing to worry about when literal energy was coming from my hands, she’d see that before my eyes. But, still, I was scared for the moment she asks what the hell was going on with me. When her or her brothers do. It’s a rooted fear that no matter how much time goes by I can’t seem to shake.

Sam heads over and cuts Tommy free.

“We’re gonna get you home” She tells him.

A hand touches my shoulder and I tense, flinching slightly, even though it felt familiar.

“Relax” Dean whispers near my ear sending a shiver down my spine.

“You don’t have to be so stiff trying to protect us, cause look what I found” He holds up two flare guns pointing to a pile in the corner full of stolen supplies.

“Flare guns. Those’ll work” Sam says grinning.

Dean laughs and twirls the guns in his hands, and I can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face.

We head down the tunnel Dean and Sam in the lead with their flare guns as I keep to the rear of the group.

“Looks like someone's home for supper.” Dean comments at the growling we heard.

“We’ll never outrun it” Haley points out.

Dean looks back at us, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answers and I nod.

“All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and Y/N. They’re gonna get you out of here.” Dean plans.

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asks Dean.

He winks, walking and yelling, “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

Sam waits until Dean is a safe distance away, “All right, come on! Hurry!”

The Collinses follow him down the tunnel, as I continue to hold down the rear.

We hurry down the tunnel before we hear more growling.

Sam points the gun in the direction, then lowers it turning to the Collinses.

“Get him outta here” He orders

“Sam, no”

“Go! Y/N get them outta here, Go!” he orders

I turned to the family making sure I no longer was using my powers as I pushed them out of there.

A moment later I hear Sam running after us, catching up, “Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry” he says, and I let him get in front of me as we reach the end of the tunnel.

I half turn to see the wendigo right behind us. I pivot the rest of the way around, quickly letting my hands light back up with energy during the half second that I moved.

I move my hands in front of me throwing a large energy blast right at the tall white creature, sending it a few feet back knocking it into a tree (the one that got in the way of it getting thrown further).

“Get behind me.” Sam tells the Collinses, hiding them behind himself as I stay in front of him.

The Wendigo approaches again and I throw it back again, a little harder this time.

I keep my hand in front of me, still lit with white energy as I bring my other hand down, flicking it swiftly, conjuring a flare gun into my hand.

I let the wendigo stalk a little closer before I raise my hand with the gun, I aim, pulling the trigger.

Just as Dean comes up a foot behind the wendigo, pulling his trigger.

The flare I shot goes off first, Deans following a second later. The wendigo goes up in flames.

“Teamwork” Dean says grinning at me.

I huff a laugh.

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

An ambulance loads up Tommy, two police officers interview Ben as Sam stands behind him.

“So…what was that whole thing back there with you” Haley asks me hands in her pockets, her and Dean both already patched up.

“I, oh, um…I’m a witch” I answer, feeling as if I'm shrinking inside myself. Telling people has never been a part I enjoy much.

“You're in the journal?” She asks

“I mean not me specifically but witches, yes. Most witches aren’t good, quite the opposite really…” I tail off looking down, feeling uncomfortable.

“Thank you.” She says leaning her head down to catch my eyes before adding, “I don’t know how to thank you guys.”

I just smile at her, glad to have helped but also glad to have moved away from the awkward conversation.

But when I look over to Dean, he’s smirking lasciviously.

“Whelp that’s my que to leave.” I announce, not wanting to know her answer. I turn around, heading to the Impala, a certain stabbing feeling echoes in my heart and I know it must be jealousy.

Which is stupid because 1. it’s not like me and Dean are even together, and 2. Dean does not like me in any sort of romantic way.

“Must you cheapen the moment” I hear Haley comment as I walk away, leaning on the hood of the Impala.

A minute or so later Sam joins me, and then Dean.

“Man, I hate camping.” Dean remarked

“Me too.”

“Amen.”

“You know we're gonna find Dad, right?” Dean asks, and I know the question is for Sam.

“Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving.” Sam says all proudly.

Dean tosses him the keys smiling widely

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #slow burn #wendigo #forest #fanfiction #fanfic #the hunter and the witch

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