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daddy-dins-girl · 9 months

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Kindred - Chapter One

Kindred.

So I rewatched WW84 two nights ago and the next day I had 5k of Max Lord fic written (idk what happened). But anyway, lmk if you want to see a part 2!

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Chapter 2

Summary: You’ve nannied for your share of families including a lot of workaholic parents but never have you met anyone that runs themselves as ragged as Maxwell Lord seems to.

Tonight a thought occurs to you that maybe Mr. Lord just needs to let go, for one night. And maybe you could give that to him.

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 4.8k

Notes: Takes place a couple years before the events of WW84. Reader has no defined age so it can be whatever you want. I'm not sure how old Alistair is supposed to be in 84, but in this fic he's about 6ish (so no baby talk or screaming toddlers here folks!).

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Oral sex. Explicit language. Light dom/sub. Light bondage (Max's neck tie comes in handy). Max's hair is it's own warning.

...

“Hi Mr. Lord” you smile sweetly at your boss as the front door swings open to allow you inside. You’re met, as per usual, by the sight of your employer looking - in a word - exasperated. He sighs when he sees you; in relief you assume, and runs a hand through his golden chestnut locks that constantly fall across his forehead. He’s dressed smartly in a blue pin striped suit with a stark white shirt and navy tie with a gold paisley pattern which hangs loose and slightly askew around his neck. You assume he’s been tugging at it, something you noticed he does when he gets overly stressed which, granted, is pretty often.

You’ve nannied for your share of families including a lot of workaholic parents but never have you met anyone that runs themselves as ragged as Maxwell Lord seems to. You know why he does it; that he’s trying to build an empire, something to leave to his son (with whom he splits custody of with his ex-wife) and to be able to provide everything for his son that he never had. But spending so much time with his son Alistair, you see the other side of it as well and sympathize. All Alistair wants is for his father to actually get home in time to read him a bedtime story, or go to the park for a game of catch, or show up at school for Career Day like everyone else’s parents.

“Thank you for coming so quickly” Maxwell finally breathes as both his hands reach out and grab yours, gently pulling you inside. “My ex-wife had a family emergency with her mother and needed to go out of town and had to drop Alistair off. I know this is normally your week off, I appreciate you coming”

“Of course, Mr. Lord, it’s no trouble, really” you assure him. Truly you didn’t mind, you could always use the extra money. You liked the schedule with the Lord’s. Two weeks on, two weeks off. In your off time from nannying you peddled beauty products and rented a chair at a local hair salon near your apartment. Giving haircuts to suburban housewives was a great way to boost your side business of selling cosmetics and skin care products. You had clients at the salon who would often hire you to come to small lunches they would host for their girlfriends where you could give a small presentation of the products you sold and it was an easy way for you to make money and add to your growing client list. Mr. Lord had even surprised you by becoming a client. He had come home one night to you filling out orders in a receipt book at the kitchen table, a few skin care products strewn about the table as you readied to package them up and he was instantly curious as to what you were selling. You were embarrassed at first, for technically working for your other job while on the clock for him but he instantly waved you off. Alistair had already been asleep for hours and he assured you that not only did he not mind, but he was impressed by your work ethic. He handled a few of the products, carefully reading the small print on the bottles and you noted his curiosity before pulling out the catalog from your purse and suggesting a few items for him to try.

“Makes you glow like a teenager” You had smiled at him as you explained one of the serums to him and he had his checkbook out within minutes, placing his first order.

You would have to rearrange a few of the haircuts you had scheduled for this week but most of your clients were housewives with flexible enough schedules that you were confident you could rearrange them to times where Alistair would be in school, so you weren’t worried about it. And your cosmetic business was mostly a work from home endeavor anyway, aside from the few weekly home deliveries you made which could also be done during school hours. During your “on weeks” at the Lord’s you lived there. It was just easier due to Maxwell’s ever changing and highly busy schedule. He was out of the house at the early morning hours and typically didn’t return until long after the sun was set. Even most weekends he was in and out of the office, trying to be home whenever he could but with his business still being in the early stages of growth, it was a necessary evil.

You were more than just a babysitter for Alistair. You cooked and cleaned and did whatever you could to make Maxwell’s life easier. In the beginning he tried to insist you didn’t need to do as much as you did, that he knew he didn’t pay you enough for all the work you put in, but you quickly brushed him off, ensuring him that not only were you happy to do it, but it gave you something to do when Alistair was asleep or otherwise occupied. He eventually stopped trying, knowing you’d do it regardless, and every few months (presumably when he’d had a good month at work and could afford it) you’d notice a couple of extra bills in the envelope of cash he’d hand you at the beginning of your work week. It wasn’t much, but you appreciated that he appreciated you. At the end of the day you were both just trying to hustle your way through life; Maxwell was just a more successful version of yourself, in a way. You were kindred spirits, it’s probably why you got along as well as you did.

The fact that you found your boss to be devastatingly handsome didn’t hurt either, you supposed.

“Who is it Daddy?” You heard Alistair's excited voice call out as hurried footsteps came barreling towards the front entryway. He slid to a stop in his socked feet and hands instinctively wrapped around his father’s leg as he peered up at you with the same large chestnut coloured eyes as his fathers.

“It’s our Angel, come to save the day again buddy” Max smiled down at his son, ruffling a hand through his dark brown locks.

“So you’re going back to work tonight?” Alistair’s face fell slightly, along with your heart, as his fingers picked absently at the crease in Max’s pant leg.

“Hey,” You quickly sprang into action, squatting down to be eye level with Alistair and nudging at his chin with your finger to get him to look up at you. “I brought you something” you begin, a grin spreading across your lips as you reach into your purse at your side.

“A present?!” Alistair’s eye’s light up suddenly and it makes you smile.

“Well, sort of, but it’s on loan” you explain as you pull the rented VHS tape out of your bag and hold it out in front of you.

“ET!” the boy all but shrieks. His Dad had taken him to see it at the drive-in when it had first come out and he hadn’t stopped talking about it since. When Raquel, Mr. Lord’s assistant, had called you a couple hours ago to explain the situation and asking if you could step in this week, you knew the boy might be overly emotional; his grandmother being ill and his father undoubtedly rushing off to work the moment you arrived at their doorstep. You had a feeling this would cushion the blow and your instincts were right on the money as he jumped up and down excitedly at you.

“Can we put it on now?” He asked, his excitement barely contained as he bounced up and down on his heels.

“Tell you what, why don’t we order a pizza and we can watch it with our dinner”

“Yay!” Alistair shouts, turning on his heel and running off to the kitchen, undoubtedly to browse the pizza menu stuck to the fridge with a magnet.

“I’m getting pepperoni!” You hear him yell from the kitchen and you huff a laugh at his eagerness as you straighten back up and face your employer once again.

“Thank you, honestly sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you” Mr. Lord tells you honestly and you smile, placing a hand on his bicep.

“Happy to help” you tell him. And you are. Maxwell and Alistair have become this sort of part-time family of yours and you’d do anything for them.

“I better get in there before he starts dialing and orders half the restaurant” you joke before bringing your hands up to fix Max’s tie around his neck until it’s tightened and straight, your hand brushing down the silken material slightly and then patting your palm against it once.It’s something you’ve never done to him before and you have no idea what came over you in the moment, the act feeling strangely intimate but you quickly clear your throat, take a step back and give him an easy smile.

“Don’t work too hard” you tell him before you brush past him to go after Alistair, knowing he won’t actually heed the advice, but you say it anyway.

You hear the front door open and close as you reach Alistair in the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the wall to place the order and get your evening started.

…

It’s well past ten when you hear the door open again, signaling Maxwell’s arrival home. You look up from the kitchen table where you’d been flipping through a magazine and watch him as he places his briefcase on the floor before his large frame envelops the open doorway to the kitchen. He leans against the wall, tie hanging loosely around his neck again and hair falling across his forehead.

“Alistair?” He asks hopefully, though you're pretty certain he already knows the answer.

“Asleep” You shrug and his face falls slightly.

“Of course, it’s late” he sighs, pulling his arm up to look at his watch. “Lost track of time I guess” he mumbles and you frown. He looks exhausted, hands running through his hair again.

“It’s getting long” you say, not meaning too it just comes out; occupational hazard you suspect.

“What?” He questions, not sure what you mean.

“Your hair” you nod in his direction. “When was the last time you had it cut?”

“Oh, um, I'm not sure…” Max trails off, thinking. He knows it has been too long. He had to skip his last appointment because an investor meeting had come up and he’d forgotten to ask Raquel to reschedule him.

You stand up, your feet moving of their own accord until you’re standing right in front of him at the kitchen doorway and you bring your left hand up to gently run through the few stray locks that are normally slicked back but have now curtained across his forehead.

“I could trim it for you” you say, your eyes glued to his hair and not even noticing how close you’re standing to him or that his gaze is fixed on you, his Adam's apple bobbing heavy in his throat.

“I… couldn’t ask you to do that” he says finally, running his own hand through his hair as you pull yours away.

“No, really, I insist, come here” you take both your hands and grab for one of his, pulling him further into the kitchen and sliding a chair out.

“I have my stuff here, I was going to give Alistair a trim this week anyway” you shrug. “Sit, I’ll be right back” you instruct and he sighs but dutifully does as you ask.

You return a couple minutes later with your supplies and a towel that you secure around his neck. You go to the sink and fill your spray bottle with water so you can mist it through his hair to get it wet enough to cut before you begin your work.

“You have a great head of hair, I see where Alistair gets it from” you comment as your fingers rake through it from the top of his scalp to the back of his neck. It was true. A lot of your male clients around Mr. Lord’s age were already showing a receding hairline and none of them had hair as thick as his. “I don’t think you have to worry about going bald anytime soon” you joke and you hear him chuckle softly.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this” Max says into the stillness of the room while you continue to trim and run your hands through his hair, ensuring all the ends are even.

“It’s kind of fun when it’s not work,” you shrug. Plus you really didn’t mind running your hands through Max’s hair, not that you’d ever admit that to him. You’d been dying to do it since you met him. Soft, luscious locks begging for a pair of hands other than his own to run through them.

You finish the trim, place the scissors down on the table and take an extra few seconds to run both hands through his hair, your nails raking gently against his scalp as you style his hair the way he likes it.

“There” you smile at your handiwork before reaching for the handheld mirror on the table and holding it up for him to take. His hand wraps around yours on the handle of the mirror as he brings it in front of him, his free hand running through his hair to inspect the length.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Feels much better” he beams at you through the mirror with his megawatt smile that makes your knees weaken and you bite your lip, looking away quickly as heat rises in your cheeks.

“Just glad I could help” you tell him before you untuck the towel from the collar of his dress shirt and sweep it off his shoulders, balling it up before any loose hair falls onto the floor and placing it on the seat of a nearby chair so you can take it to the laundry room later. You're standing up straight behind him again and before you can talk yourself out of it, you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and start kneading, instantly feeling the tight knots of muscles beneath his dress shirt.

“Oh, um” Max startles slightly in the chair, turning his head as far to the side as he can to try and look at you.

“Sorry” you quickly pull your hands from his shoulders as if you’d been burned and Max turns his body in his seat so he’s sitting sideways on the chair, his elbow resting on the back.

“It’s ok” Max assures, large brown eyes looking up at you. “But, you don’t have to… I mean I don’t expect…” he trails off and you quickly come to the understanding that he’s not mad at you for touching him or doesn’t even not want you to.

An idea comes to your head as you stare down at the big puppy dog eyes of the exhausted man staring back at you. A man that deserves so much more than what life has thrown at him. It’s a risky idea, sure, and could potentially ruin everything you’ve built with this family over the last several months but something just comes over you and takes hold and you can’t seem to shake it off.

“Turn your chair around to face me, and bring it forward a bit, away from the table” you instruct, taking a few steps back so he has room. His eyes glance over you for a few moments, studying to see if you’re being serious or not before he finally swallows and nods, silently obeying your orders. He turns the chair and sits on it properly again, his hands going under the seat so he can shuffle it forward slightly so it's not backed right up against the table, his eyes never leaving you from where you stand a foot or so away, leaned against the kitchen island in front of him.

Satisfied with where he sits, you take the two steps across the kitchen to reach him again and your hands go back to his shoulders, this time rubbing up and down the material of the dark blue suspenders for a few moments before your fingers hook underneath them and slide them down his arms. You catch the shudder he releases but neither of you comment on it.

“You’re always working so hard” you sigh as you run a hand through his hair again before bringing it to run down the side of his face and his eyes close voluntarily at your touch. “Taking care of Alistair, of your clients, your business” you continue, both hands now fiddling with the tie at his neck, loosening it further.

“Who takes care of you?” You ask, though not expecting an answer, and he doesn’t give you one. Just swallows thickly instead, breathing heavily through his nose.

You successfully loosen the tie completely before sliding it off of him, wrapping the silk around your hands briefly to feel the fine fabric. You put one hand on his shoulder and step around him until you’re behind him and squat down as each of your hands grab for his arms and pull them behind his back until his wrists are together and you lay the silk fabric of the tie over top of them.

“Is this ok?” You ask, mouth next to his ear now and he quickly nods his head.

“Yes” he manages to breathe out and you go back to your task of securing the tie around his wrists, giving it a gentle tug when you're finished to make sure it's not too tight but also that he can’t wriggle free too easily.

You take a steadying breath while still behind him before raising up to your feet again. You’ve never actually done anything like this before and your hands are nearly shaking, your entire body buzzing with excitement but you try to will yourself to relax. Max needs this, and you can do it. You can give him what he needs and what he’d never ask you for.

Settling your shoulders and holding your head high, you finally step back around him until you’re in front of him again.

“Good boy” you praise him once you’re facing him again; hand coming up to rest on his cheek and he closes his eyes at the warmth of your palm against his skin.

“Poor baby, just needs someone to take care of him, don’t you?” you tease, your thumb brushing against his cheek.

“Yes, Angel” Max sighs, his eyes finally opening again to meet yours. You notice the endearment slip, the same one he had used this morning and it gives you butterflies. You take another steadying breath to reign yourself in so you don't end up untying him and letting him do whatever he wants with you. God knows you want to, but you want tonight to be just for him.

“I’m going to take good care of you, aren’t I Maxwell?” You whisper and his eyes close again upon hearing his first name come from your lips. You had always called him Mr. Lord, but tonight, he was just Maxwell.

Placing a hand on each of his shoulders, you lower yourself onto his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his and you can feel him already growing hard beneath you. Max’s chest is heaving as he tries to maintain some type of control over his body, his heart beating wildly underneath his pressed white dress shirt as your hands glide up and down from the tops of his shoulders to the middle of his chest.

“I think I like you like this” you purr, lower half grinding up against his to create some friction and a moan slips from his lips as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. “You don’t have to think, don’t have to act, just be free… just be with me, baby” you tell him before you lean forward and capture his lips with yours, both of you moaning into the kiss when your mouths open and tongues meet. His lips are soft, as soft as you’d always fantasized they’d be. His tongue explores your mouth greedily, desperate to taste every part of you, lick into every cavern. You’d always imagined he’d be a great kisser but you had no idea how amazing he’d be. You’re so lost in the kiss you almost forget your plan all together, wanting to just stay in this moment with him for as long as your lung capacities would allow. Your hands are in his hair now, fingers running through the soft waves, and he groans into your mouth before he pulls back suddenly.

“Angel, please. Let me hold you, touch you” he all but whines, squirming underneath you and you almost break, feeling defenseless against his pleas, but you hold steady and straighten up in his lap again.

“Not tonight baby. Tonight is for you. This is what I want, and you want to please me, don’t you Maxwell?”

“Yes” he nods, his voice trembling.

It’s clear that giving up control is not something Max is used to, but you know he needs it, likes it even - if the evidence currently pressing against your thigh is any indication.

“Good boy” you praise again and when his cock twitches against your leg, your eyebrows raise at him in surprise.

“You like being my good boy, Maxwell?” You tease, rewarding him with a forceful press of your pelvis into his groin and he moans, biting his lower lip.

“Yes”

“You feel so good baby” you moan, rocking into him, your hands around the back of his neck now. “So big and hard for me” you praise and a whine escapes his lips as he tries to meet your thrusts with his own as much as he can within the confines of the chair he’s tied to.

You lean your face forward until your mouth is on the shell of his ear and you gently pull the lobe between your teeth before soothing over it with your tongue. “Want you in my hand, in my mouth” you confess breathily against his ear and he whimpers. “Can I take you out baby?”

Max eagerly nods, not trusting his own voice and you nip at his earlobe again. “Words, baby” you remind him.

“Yes” he breathes. “Take my cock out, it’s yours Angel”

He sounds absolutely wrecked already and you love it. You bring your attention to his waist and pop open the button to his trousers, sliding down the zipper before your hand pushes eagerly inside to cup him over his briefs.

“Oh, baby” Max sighs, hanging his head down so he can see your hand rubbing along his shaft covered in expensive soft black cotton.

“Is this my cock, Maxwell?” You ask, feeling more emboldened by the minute as Max turns into absolute putty under your hands.

“Yes. Fuck. Yeah baby, all yours”

You remove your hand from him for just a few seconds so you can tug his pants down to his thighs and then shove the front of his briefs down so you can take him out of the confines of his underwear and see him in all his glory. And what a glorious site it is, indeed, you think to yourself.

Max hisses when you pull his length out and run your hand down it once. He’s long and too thick for you to be able to wrap your hand all the way around it. The head is dark and purple and already leaking precum. “It’s beautiful, just like you baby” you tell him before you lean forward to press a quick kiss to his lips and smile at him. “Gonna make you feel so good” you promise before easing yourself off of his lap and onto your knees instead and Max groans, tossing his head back.

You start with teasing little licks and kisses to the head before going lower and licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock and Max moans from above you. “Tastes good too” you tell him before your mouth closes around the fat head and sucks gently, causing Max to buck his hips up into you.

“Stay still” you scold, immediately taking your mouth off of him to look up at him. “Don’t be a naughty boy” you warn as you grip both of his thighs tightly.

“Oh, fuck” Max groans, eyes closing and head falling back again. It's clear he’s loving this, loving you being in control of him. Another bead of precum dribbles out and slides down his dick and you quickly duck down to catch it on your tongue and lick a stripe up his length again. This time Max remains still, his breaths coming out harder through his nose as he concentrates on remaining still.

“Good boy” you praise before bringing your whole mouth down on him, swallowing down as much of his length as your throat will allow and repeating the process over and over, head bobbing up and down on his cock with enthusiasm.

“Oh baby, shit. Holy shit Angel” Max whines as he watches you choke on his dick. Your eyelashes flutter up at him as you watch him watch you. He looks completely fucked out, his pupils blown wide, shoulders tense under the white dress shirt where he’s pulling against the restraints behind him, desperate to reach for you, to touch you.

You moan into his cock. Watching him completely lose himself in you is doing all kinds of things to your body. You can feel yourself soaking your panties, getting off on the pleasure you’re giving him and you bring a hand up to wrap around his length and work him up and down for what your mouth can’t reach.

When the back of your throat needs a break you focus your mouth on his head instead, swirling your tongue around and underneath the tip while your hand continues pumping his shaft, wet with your saliva and easily sliding up and down the length.

“Oh Angel, you feel so fucking good” Max praises.”Oh fuuuuuuck” His breathing has become even more erratic and you know he’s getting close so you double your efforts, taking his whole length in your mouth again and hollowing out your cheeks as you slide him down your throat and swallow. The sounds of wet saliva and your lips smacking and swallowing his cock are positively sinful as they bounce off the kitchen walls and back to your ears and it urges you on, bobbing faster and faster up and down his cock, your hand pumping and gently squeezing him in tandem with your mouth.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Baby!” Max whines and you know it's a warning. Rather than lifting off of him you moan into him instead and continue sucking and tugging at him, urging him to finish in your mouth.

“Oh Christ, Angel. I’m coming, I’m coming. Fuck!” Max warns before you feel his hot spend hit the back of your throat in spurts and you continue moaning and swallowing around his cock, milking him of every last drop until his hips finally still and you swallow once more before releasing him with a pop and laying your head to rest on his thigh to take a breath.

“Oh my God” Max heaves a sigh and you feel all the tension leave his body and a smile crosses your lips. You move your head forward just a little to press a kiss to his shaft before you straighten up on your knees again and tuck him back into his underwear.

“Angel, fucking untie me, please” he begs desperately and you quickly oblige him, reaching behind the chair to tug at the knot until it comes free, the silk falling to the floor and Max’s arms shoot out the moment they’re free and tug you up off the floor and back onto his lap as his strong arms circle around your back and hold you tight to his chest, hugging you like you’re a life raft and he could just float away into nothing if you weren’t there to anchor him.

“Angel you are so perfect to me” he sighs, nuzzling against the side of your face.”I… didn’t even know I needed that” he admits and you smile, leaning back so you can look at him.

“I know baby” you coo, running a hand through his hair again before resting it on his cheek. “Told you I’d take care of you”

“And… I want to take care of you, too” Max shrugs, his eyes pleading with yours as his hands run absently across your back.

“Another time” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his strong nose. Max’s shoulders fall but he nods in understanding.

“Do you promise?” He asks, bringing his large hands to run up and down your sides.

“I promise, Mr. Lord” you smile sweetly at him.

...

Chapter two

Tagging some of my Maxwell girlies @boliv-jenta @suzdin

If you wanna be tagged there is an update, lmk!

#pedro pascal #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #maxwell lord fanfiction #wonder woman 1984 #max lord #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x you

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the-ventriloquizt · 1 year

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[ Image: A doodle of Jack Ryder and The Creeper in a simplistic style. Jack is sitting at a dining room table with a stack of papers and a typewriter, tapping away at another piece of paper. He's wearing a yellow shirt with a green paisley print and a slightly undone red tie, and has a flat, mildly tired expression. The Creeper is leaning over from behind him with a wide smile, one hand on the back of the chair and the other pointing at the paper on the typewriter. The background is light blue, and the table and chair are darker blue. ]

#jack ryder #the creeper

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bumbleleewrites · 1 year

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Three Times Tubbo Was Saved From Overworking

Summary: A compilation of times when Tubbo is comforted by others after trying to take on too much responsibility.

[DSMP S1] Switch!Tubbo, Ler!Tommy, Ler!Quackity, Lee!Ranboo

Word Count: 2.6k

Note: Tubbo and Ranboo’s relationship is written as being ambiguously platonic/romantic in this fic. I do not ship the creators.

First fic of 2023 and it’s good to be back! :3

“Tubbo? Hello?” Tommy called, snapping his fingers.

Tubbo’s heart skipped a beat at the startle. His vision unclouded as he turned to look at his friend. “Er, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“You keep spacing out, Tubs! I was telling you about my idea to expand L’Manberg’s borders south, but are you okay?”

The president hummed in response and tapped his nails against the lacquered wood of his desk. “Yeah, sorry. I think I’m just stressed, is all. A bit overwhelmed, you know, with the new job. I’m fine, though, really.”

Tommy, who was seated in one of the two paisley-adorned chairs across the desk, frowned at him. “Right. I just… fuck, man, I feel like I haven’t seen you do anything fun in ages.” He stood. “Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air or some shit? At least we’ll be out of this stuffy office.”

Tubbo looked out the stained glass window. It was a beautiful day outside; the sun was illuminating the land and creating a kaleidoscope of light inside the room. He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

The pair left the legislative building, and Tubbo’s face lit up as soon as he passed those doors. He inhaled. He was happy to smell freshly cut grass and traces of honeysuckle in the wind, rather than the dust of the books on his shelves.

“Nice, isn’t it? Better than staying in that fucking office all day?” Tommy asked.

“Definitely.”

They walked over to a nearby ravine, stopping to pick flowers and admire interesting critters along the way. They found a shady patch, covered by the foliage of a tall, leafy tree. They sat down and watched the calm flow of the stream, how the water created ripples that illuminated the gleaming rocks below. They talked about mundane things, laughing joyfully the whole while. However, to Tommy’s dismay, Tubbo had heard a chime and pulled his telecommunicator out from his breast pocket.

“Tubs?”

“Sorry, just a message from Niki,” he explained, quickly tapping away on its tiny chromed keyboard, “She wants to know what I think about some building plans.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man, I took you here to avoid work!” He reached over and grabbed the object from him.

“What the fuck? Tommy!” Tubbo complained, reaching for it as the taller boy held it high above his head.

“No way!” Tommy laughed.

Tubbo shook his head, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance while an amused smile played upon his lips. “Alright, you asked for it!”

He squeezed Tommy’s side, and the blond dropped the device to cover his torso.

“Ah! What the hell?”

“You wouldn’t give it back!”

“You were being boring!”

Out of the blue, Tubbo found himself laying on his back against the damp grass, with Tommy grinning on top of him. Damn it, the boy had sure pounced quickly.

“Tom? TOHOHOMMY!” Tubbo cackled, as Tommy began quickly kneading his fingers into his belly. He attempted to grab Tommy’s hands, but this was only used against him. Tommy snatched up his wrists with one hand and held them above the brunet’s head, still prodding along his torso with his free fingers.

“Revenge, bitch!” He shouted in triumph as he squeezed Tubbo’s hip.

The hybrid’s ears flapped in mirth while blood rushed to his face from his laughter. He kicked out his legs from underneath his friend. “Fohohor whahahat?”

“For being boring!” Tommy felt Tubbo’s knee knock against his own and took that as a cue to start squeezing it, spidering under the kneecap every so often. He grinned when the other squealed at the change in spots.

“Ihihihah- I’ll behehe lehehess bohoring, I’m sohohorry, Ihihi swehear!” He shook his head, though he truly didn’t mind the playful contact. It was nice to laugh, and what was that project he was working on earlier? He couldn’t recall. After days of nonstop work, he welcomed the distraction.

“Yeah? And you’re going to hang out with me and not think about presidential shit? Because you’re a great leader and you need to stop being so hard on yourself?”

“Yeheah! Ihihi- wehehell…”

Tubbo began cackling once again when Tommy started drawing circles into one of his exposed underarms. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt his damp eyelashes brush against the lids.

“Say it, Tubbo! You’re a great leader and you’ll stop being hard on yourself!”

“Ohohokay!” He agreed, and tapped Tommy’s wrist.

Tommy stopped tickling him, and waited for his statement.

Panting through his residual giggles, Tubbo said: “Ihihi… I’m aha goohood leader, and I need to stop being hard on myself.”

Tommy hummed, and a smirk appeared on his face. Not quite, big man. I said ‘great’, not good.” He pinched along Tubbo’s side.

“Ah! WAHAIT! I’m a greheat leadeherah! Tohommy!”

“That’s better. Right you are, Tubs.”

He ruffled Tubbo’s disheveled hair while the boy shot him a glare that was rendered unthreatening by his wide smile. Tommy sat back down on the grass and handed Tubbo back his communicator. “Fuhuck you.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t be mean to me right now. I could easily do that again.”

Tubbo swallowed and felt a flush return to his cheeks when Tommy wiggled his fingers. “No! No, that won’t be necessary.”

Tommy bumped his shoulder with a chuckle. “Good.”

Tubbo sighed and pressed his fingers to his temple as he looked over the mess of the kitchen. Something sticky was burning on the stove — that wouldn't be coming off with any amount of scrubbing, Tubbo thought — with wisps of smoke rising from it. Pieces of chopped vegetables fallen from the counter were littering the floor, creating a sad, sparse confetti. A tall pile of dishes was sitting in the sink. In the corner of the space was a bag of half-eaten, discarded burgers: Tubbo's failed prototypes.

The boy had been eager to accept Quackity's offer to be the chef of Las Nevadas's burger restaurant. However, not long after accepting the job, the man had given him a list of demands, one of them being to create a menu featuring a variety of specified exotic ingredients. Tubbo was a decent cook, no doubt about that, but he was far from being a culinary genius. Quackity's requests were ridiculous. How could anyone be expected to come up with a good recipe that combines savory meat with citric chorus fruit?

He sighed. This was impossible! He supposed that he should tell Quackity that he had failed. Maybe he wouldn’t be as upset if Tubbo informed him, before the man had the chance to find out for himself. Tubbo removed his stained apron and draped it over his shoulder. He made the trek over to Quackity’s office. When he reached the chrome door, he gave a quiet tap on it with his knuckles.

“Boss?” Tubbo croaked, wringing his hands together.

“Come in!” Quackity called.

The goat hybrid opened the door. His hooves clicked across the tile as he shuffled into the room. Quackity stared at him from his plush, ornate rolling chair, with his feet up on his lacquered desk. His eyebrows raised in concern as his eyes trailed over Tubbo’s messy state. The boy had grease stains on his clothes, mustard in his hair, and bloodshot, tired eyes.

“Um, I’m really sorry.” His voice wavered as he spoke. “The ingredients you wanted me to include, I can’t come up with any recipes. I’ve been trying all day and the kitchen’s kind of a mess now, and there’s stuff burned onto the stove, but I tried really hard and-“

“Tubbo!” Quackity shook his head. “Fuck, listen to yourself! Listen! You need to take a break.”

Tubbo nodded and swallowed when he noticed that his throat was parched. When was the last time he had stopped to drink water? There was a slight throbbing around his temples, and were those tears beginning to form in his eyes? He really did need to stop working for a little while.

“Okay, yeah. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to let you down, Big Q.”

Quackity stood, walked over and placed a compassionate hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, looking into the other’s goat-like eyes. “Hey, it’s fine, Tubbo. It’s fine. I know that I asked a lot of you, but only because I know that you can handle it. You’re the best fucking chef in town!” The man smiled and scratched behind Tubbo’s floppy ear playfully, which caused him to form a dopey smile of his own. “If anyone could make a good recipe, it’s you. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s a difficult task.”

Tubbo looked at the floor and fidgeted with his hands. He hadn’t expected Quackity to be so calm, to be so nice to him. “Thank you, Quackity.”

He gazed out the window at the sun that was beginning to descend just behind the Space Needle. The warm orange glow being cast across the city indicated to him that night was beginning to fall. “Well, it’s getting late and I know that I promised I would get this done today,” Tubbo explained, “I should really be getting back to work.”

Quackity gave him an almost pleading look. “What did I just say? You need to take a break. I don’t expect you to get this all done today, especially with how hard it is. I can’t have my best worker burning himself out, can I?” He pulled Tubbo in for a hug, although he kept his posture stiff as if showing this affection would ruin his reputation as a stoic businessman. “Listen, man, you’re doing great. Just take the night off and relax.” He ran his knuckles lightly along Tubbo’s spine, and tension released from the boy’s shoulders.

“But… I know I should, and thank you, but the kitchen is still a mess and it will be much worse to deal with in the morning if I leave it overnight,” Tubbo protested.

The president raised an eyebrow and released Tubbo from the hug, keeping his hand on the boy’s back. “Don’t worry about that! Las Nevadas hires people to clean all of the buildings when they’re closed.” He paused. “Have you been doing it all yourself?”

Tubbo nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Quackity shook his head with a slight, amused laugh and wiggled his nails against Tubbo’s shoulder blades. The hybrid couldn’t help but let out a stream of soft giggles. His ear flicked in embarrassment.

Quackity chuckled. “You’ve been doing all that work for nothing! I pay you for your cooking skills, not for cleaning.”

“Oh.”

“Go home and get some rest. If there’s anything on the list I gave you that just won’t work, we’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay?”

Tubbo nodded. “Okay. Thanks, boss.”

“No problem. Now get out of here,” Quackity joked, and squeezed Tubbo’s side. He barked out a startled yelp before leaving the office, with reddened cheeks and a contented smile.

Tubbo felt Ranboo shiver and pulled them closer. He knew that their silky fur did nothing to keep out the cold. If anything, it only trapped in the frigid humidity of the room and made Ranboo's skin prickle into goosebumps. Tubbo could tell. He felt the thin hairs along their forearms raising and pushing up against his own skin.

"You cold?"

They nodded.

The goat hybrid looked away. “I’m sorry.”

Ranboo looked away from the fireplace to lock eyes with his husband. “Why?” he asked, frowning.

“For asking you to help me shovel. I forgot that the snow burns you. I could have handled it myself.”

Ranboo gently cupped his face. “Don’t be sorry. We could have been snowed in, so the quicker we got that cleared, the better. It’s only a little bit stingy. At least it’s not rain.”

Tubbo nodded. He wrapped his arms around his spouse. "Better? Not cold?"

Ranboo nodded before he affectionately knocked his bicoloured horns against Tubbo's.

The goat hybrid gave him a warm, albeit hesitant smile. "Good," he replied simply.

He started to soothingly rub his hands up and down Ranboo's torso, hoping that the friction would provide them with additional warmth. Tubbo felt them exhale before he felt a soft rumbling against his side. Ranboo had started to purr. They had allowed themselves to slump into him, and he saw the tension release from their eyes. Tubbo relaxed into the comfortable weight. He pushed his face into Ranboo's shoulder with a contented sigh. Their clothes smelled faintly of pine, Tubbo noticed.

"Are you cold anymore?" he mumbled into the soft fabric of Ranboo's sweater.

"No. Thank you," Ranboo said shakily.

He firmly placed a clawed hand on top of one of his husband's, which was currently resting on Ranboo's side. Tubbo froze and looked down. His fingertips were just barely poised against the other's sides. He figured his pressure must have lightened as he became distracted.

Ranboo tipped their chin downward and rested it against the brunet's fluffy hair. "Sorry. You know I'm ticklish there."

Tubbo breathed out a short chuckle. He took Ranboo’s hand in his. "Don't apologize."

He slipped his free hand underneath Ranboo's bundles of clothing and lazily rubbed their belly. His blunt nails raked along their skin as he did so, and Tubbo felt their abdomen quiver underneath his palm.

"Beehee," Ranboo exhaled, and Tubbo could feel the giggles bubbling in their chest.

"Yes, my beloved?" he responded, with a tiny smirk.

“Whahat are you dohohing?”

“Warming you up,” he replied with a smirk.

"Yohou're mahaking it tickle on puhurpose now."

"Oh, am I?" Tubbo crooned. He nuzzled his head into his spouse's neck, and his eyes lit up at the small squeak that they emitted. "But you're not really trying to stop me, are you?"

The half-ender rolled his eyes and groaned softly. His fangs briefly flashed as he gave the other a bemused grin, tittering all the while.

Tubbo headbutted their shoulder. "I thought as much."

He unlaced his fingers from his spouse’s and traced along the squishy pad of Ranboo’s palm. His eyes lit up in adoration as they pushed their face into the back of his neck with a giggly whine.

“That feel nice?” Tubbo asked, with a quick scribble of his nails along Ranboo’s lower belly.

He heard a surprised, high-pitched laugh next to his ear, then felt them nod.

“I’m glad. I… I hope this at least somewhat makes up for making you go out in the cold.”

Ranboo rested their hand on Tubbo’s wrist and lifted their head. Tubbo paused and gazed up at him, watching the lines of mirth around his eyes fade into an expression of concern.

“I told you not to be sorry. I can survive a little bit of snow, Tubs. You needed my help, so I was there. We take care of our home together, not alone.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Tubbo’s head. “Please, don’t feel bad about this.”

Tubbo blinked away the tears that had started to form in his eyes at the kind words. He swallowed away the tight feeling in his throat. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and rested his head against Ranboo’s chest.

Ranboo rested his chin on Tubbo’s head. “Besides,” he started with a laugh, barely able to keep his composure, “You look like an old man when you shovel! Yohou’d think you’d get the technique right by now! So it’s a good thing that I was there to- HEHEY!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes as he kneaded quickly into their sides. “Care to repeat that, ticklish-boo?”

“Nohoho, but doho yohohou- TUBBOHO!”

The two of them would fall asleep on the sofa that night; tired out from laughing, safe from the cold and warmed by each other’s company.

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!tubbo #switch!tubbo #ler!tommy #ler!quackity #ler!tommyinnit #lee!ranboo #sfw tickle community

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daneecastle · 9 months

Text

Lucifer WIP

I came on tumblr to show my progress and got distracted. Lol 5 mins for a post serpent one hour surfing tumblr. *shame*

That chair is going to be so much fun.

“A spot light appeared over a old wooden chair made from the wood used to burn people alive. From the darkness walked a tall man with wispy black hair pulled into a lazy braid that hung over his broad shoulders like a midnight waterfall. His eyes were icy blue and slightly slanted. His lips were full and relaxed, pensive almost. He wore a dark blue suit that accented the color of his eyes, the button up shirt underneath was black and the tie worn was a silver shine with a slight paisley design. The shoes he stepped forward in were a silky silver and reflected the distraught faces of the souls he had in Hell. He strolled to the chair and sat down, crossing his legs and relaxing his arms, outstretched on the armrests.”

He’s part of the story

Lost Memories Still Cast Love

WIP

Part of a group collab on my discord group the GOCC. Pm to join.

#good omens #neil gaiman #good omens season 2 #progress #good omens fanart #original character #lucifer #benedict cumberbatch #wip

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gracegrove · 11 months

Text

Idyllic

tw warnings childhood trauma, child abuse, implied child abuse, implied child sexual abuse, blackmail

_________

He was struggling, a half-cocked grin under wiry and unkempt hairs as plain-clothed officers moved his father out the front door. "Billy? You do exactly as they say boy, you hear me?!" he barked, startling the moping child back to reality. A woman moved into the space, her brown paisley dress shifting as she squatted to his eye level.

"Billy?"

The boy looked up through watery eyes, the rhythmic beams of red and blue lighting up his face from the police cruiser parked outside. The woman stretched out her hand to wipe at his cheek, and Billy flinched, his face already bruised and yellowing around the edges from days prior.

"Honey I'm so sorry. We're gonna make this right." She put a hand gently on his shoulder. "We're gonna get you out of here," she promised.

Lounging, head tilted back against the concrete, Neil whistled a long flat tune. He was waiting on the detective to pull his ass out of bed. He continued piping out wistful ditties until a man approached his cell an hour later.

"Name's Detective Kasey, stand away from the bars. Remember that anything you say can be held against you in a court of law..." he droned wearily as he fumbled with a ring of keys.

Neil stood brushing off his wranglers and approaching, as the cell door swung wide and the detective entered. Neil held out his wrists to be cuffed but paused with a visible wrinkle in his nose. "Wait. Kasey? Duke Kasey, from Fresno High Class of '64?"

Neil leaned into the man's space, their eyes locking as the detective looked up at him suspiciously from bushy brows. "Who wants to know?" he inquired.

Pulling his cuffed wrists back, Neil gestured to himself proudly, "Neil. Hargrove. Remember me you sonnuva bitch?"

The detective nodded a fond smile. "Well, you bastard you're in a pickle now. Let's talk."

Coming to the interview room, the men both pulled up a chair, Det. Kasey opened the file sitting on the table. "Let's see what you've gotten yourself into this time heh?" Reclining, he flipped through the file, page by page, the soft expression falling from his face.

Neil sat opposite picking his nail beds clean. "How much's this gonna cost me? Community service? A fine?"

The detective didn't answer, lifting a page over and wincing as he finally reached the section with photographic evidence. "Jesus H. Christ!" he cursed. "This is bad Neil. Real bad. This ain't no pickle."

Neil frowned, resting his arms on the table. "I can't discipline my kid?" He stated calmly.

Kasey pulled a pen from his breast pocket and reached for the tape recorder. Clicking the record button, he stated the date, time, participants, and purpose of the interview.

"Neil Hargrove, are you aware of your rights?" Kasey asked.

"I am," he replied.

"And as previously stated do you hereby waive your right to an attorney?"

"I do. I got nothing to hide." Neil shrugged.

Kasey cleared his throat. "It's alleged that you have been harming your son, William, physically. On multiple occasions. What do you have to say to that?"

Neil looked around the bare room with an air of boredom, "The boy's hard to manage. Gets into trouble an awful lot. School. Home. Fights with neighbor kids." Neil slouched out in his chair, "What am I supposed to do? Someone's gotta raise that boy, teach him right. How to be respectful. Ever since his mother left, he's been an absolute pain in the ass."

"Is that an admission?" Kasey probed, scratching out notes onto a legal pad.

"An admission of being a parent who's trying their damndest? Sure." Neil reasoned. "You would understand..."

Kasey raised an eyebrow, "I don't think I follow."

Neil gave the man a baleful smile, "Your old man really was quite the guy."

Kasey bruskly paused the recording. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Neil leaned in across the table, canines glinting in the low light. "Easy Duke, we're just talking. We're old friends after all, right?"

Kasey scoffed, he and Neil had hardly been what you'd call "friends."

"All I want is this over with," Neil continued, "I need to be home. My boy needs me. And you're gonna help me do that." Neil sniffed.

Kasey closed the casefile, "And why would I help you?"

Neil looked at the other man in mock innocence, "Because I know."

"I know it wasn't an accident."

Kasey's face paled, "And just what would make you think that?"

His voice was dry and wary, as he licked his lips, nervously padding his breast pocket for a carton of cigarettes. Lighting it, he took a deep drag.

"My old man had a bad habit of mixing booze and cigarettes. The whole house went up."

Neil leaned over the table, snatching the cigarette with a cuffed hand and smirking. "He also had a habit of keeping you around when Mommy was outta town..." Neil chuckled darkly.

"You sonnuva bitch" Kasey snarled, fingers curling into fists. "I don't have to listen to another word of this shit!" He pushed his chair gruffly away from the table, coming around and grabbing Neil roughly by the collar.

"Up! Your ass is going back where it belongs!" Kasey growled.

Gingerly holding the cigarette with his bound hands, Neil casually blew out, "I'm sure your Chief would be interested to hear about all the 'quality time' you spent with Daddy. All the -" He took another drag. "love you two shared. The hammer you buried with his blood -"

Kasey's grip slipped on him, dropping him askew in his seat. Leaving Neil to reseat himself.

Kasey loosened his tie, a visible sweat covering his face and dampening his shirt. "Wha-what hammer?"

Neil laughed, "Oh come on Dukey boy! The one I saw you bury beneath the dogwood by your toolshed. The one I dug up..."

Kasey swallowed on thinning air. "You ha-?" Neil nodded. "Yeah. I do." Kasey came back around and slumped into his seat, the chair groaning across the linoleum floor.

Moments passed in slience, marked by the monotonous ticking of the clock in the room. "So, here's what we're gonna do Duke." Neil stated resolutely as he ashed his cig on the table top. "You're gonna make this go away. And then I in my gratitude to you, will leave and never return. How's that sound?"

The detective nodded his head numbly. "That's a boy."

_______

"I don't know what more we can do Marsha," the man said from his seat at the kitchen table.

Marsha was putting the finishing touches on dinner as they spoke.

"Henry, we have to keep trying," she said gently.

"Marsha," Henry pushed, "How much is there even left to try? He's fighting at school again. He's angry about everything. He never lets us help him. How can we help Billy when he's like this?"

He was exasperated, rubbing a hand over his forehead, his wife giving him a supportive pat on the back.

The foster parents that Billy had been living with over these past few months were reaching their wit's end. They tried their best, welcoming him with open arms. They were very kind, but when Billy rebuffed them and avoided them they were hurt and confused.

Just then a little boy ran in the kitchen door crying. "Ma! Ma!" Marsha pulled him into to her side, thumbing at his tear-wet face. "What's wrong Sam?" "B-Billy..." he blubbered out before tumbling into tears again.

Henry shot Marsha a look. Marsha sighed, ushering the boy to sit at the kitchen table, as she went out the kitchen door to find Billy.

"Billy!? Billy?!?!" Marsha called as she entered the yard. "Come here please, we have to talk." Looking around she spotted him hiding behind the large trunk of the oak tree.

"Billy...." she sighed in disappointment as she approached. "What did you do to Sam?"

"Go away!" Billy yelled, tucking himself further behind the tree.

"I'm not going away Billy we have to talk." Marsha pushed.

"No!" Billy yelled, running from behind the tree to find a new place to hide.

Marsha reached out, grabbing Billy and wrapping him up in her arms. "Stop running Billy. You're in big trouble!"

"NO! NO! NO! NO! LET GO! LET GO!" Billy screamed. He began kicking violently, throwing his head back and hitting Marsha in the chest.

"Billy stop!" Marsha groaned, tightening her grip.

"Noooooo!" Billy bellowed, flailing and fighting even harder. Digging his heel harshly into her shin, Marsha yelped and let go, Billy running free.

He fled from the yard and was out of sight. Throwing open the kitchen door Henry looked at Marsha, "You wanna go after him?" Marsha shook her head vigorously, catching her breath. "No."

The doorbell rang. The couple composed themselves and came to the door. "Can we help you?"

The man smiled, "Good afternoon, I'm Neil Hargrove. I'm here to get my son."

#billy #billy hargrove #i just exist to break everyone's heart #i live for angst #tw neil #tw neil hargrove #neil hargrove #tw childhood trauma #tw child abuse #tw child trauma #tw child sa #Jess writes

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icwasher · 8 months

Text

THE DRAGONS WE SLAY

My entry for this year's @inklings-challenge on Team Chesterson! This was my first year doing this challenge, and though I don't usually write intrusive fantasy, I'm very glad I got put on team Chesterson because it made me step outside my comfort zone.

The story is set in 1895, and is loosely based on the Dragonology Book. It follows seven young Dragonologists as they are assigned to travel to the United States to investigate a disturbance in the world of dragons. The story can be read after the "read more" line.

Word Count: 3625

Nora rubbed her forehead, squinting at the figures Tomas had drawn up. “Explain it again, will you?”

Tomas nodded and pointed to a long number. “This represents the number of dragons counted in North America in 1885. And here–” he moved his finger down “is the number counted this year. The amount has dropped significantly in the past ten years, and we suspect it’s connected to the romanticization of dragon-slaying that has surfaced recently. And here are the numbers compared to the population of dragons in China, England, and South America.” His finger moved in a circular direction around the numbers. “The Dragonologists are worried this ideal will spread to other countries and result in a mass murder of dragons, and eventually several of the species will go extinct from such killings.”

Saanvi frowned from her position sprawled on the chaise longue, her thick black hair tumbling over the armrest. “What’s romantic about killing dragons?” she asked. “If a man wanted my devotion, the worst way to receive it would be to kill a dragon.”

“There are many stories centered around young knights receiving a princess’s hand by slaying a dragon,” said Tomas. “Such stories are often told to children, and those ideas could have set off a chain reaction resulting in an idea that killing a dragon would result in fame and riches. And, unfortunately, the people of the United States have only supported such delusions.”

“Does Theo know all of this?” asked Nora.

Tomas nodded. “I informed him of it before this meeting.”

Saanvi sat up. “Where is Theo? Didn’t he say the meeting would begin at seven?”

“Did he?” asked Nicolas, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole conversation. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re here, though,” said Tomas. “You must have known when to come.”

“Saanvi got me right before it started,” Nicolas said with a raised-brow smile, his hands pressed in a steeple.

Nora rolled her eyes and settled into her chair, watching the door carefully. It wasn’t like Theo to be late, especially for a meeting he had said was “vitally important”. He had probably been held up by someone at the headquarters, but there was always a chance that something else could have happened.

Thankfully, the door opened and Theo walked in only moments later, his suit unbuttoned and hat placed crookedly on his head. He smiled at the room and dropped a stack of books onto his desk. Tomas perked up, shutting the journal he had so carefully recorded the dragon population in, and sized up the titles of the books Theo had brought in. “Children’s stories?”

Theo nodded. “All about dragons. Almost impossible to get my hands on too. The librarian didn’t want a grown man taking away what could be used for curious children.”

He took off his hat and suit coat, hooking them gently on the coat rack. Underneath the black wool of his suit, he wore a gray and blue waistcoat in paisley designs, subtle enough not to distract the eye. “Did you discuss anything important before I arrived?” he asked as he lowered himself onto the desktop, bracing his hands against the dark lacquered wood.

Tomas shook his head. “I filled them in on the current situation, but otherwise we spoke of nothing important.”

Theo nodded thoughtfully. “And Khepria isn’t here?”

“Khepria isn’t here?” asked Nicolas from the floor where he had been painstakingly sketching the grandfather clock in the corner. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Theo gave him a raised eyebrow and turned back to Tomas. “Did she tell you why she isn’t coming?”

“She said nothing to me,” said Tomas. “Nora?”

Nora wished she had an answer to give, but she didn’t, and her head shake was met with a sigh. “Does anyone know where Khepria is?”

Just as Saanvi opened her mouth as if to answer, the door opened and Khepria entered, her many braids swinging over her shoulders as she not-so-gracefully set down the parcel she had been carrying. “Next time you tell me to pick up your orders, Saanvi, don’t neglect to mention that your two pickups are ten miles apart.”

Saanvi smiled nervously. “Sorry?”

Khepria pressed her lips in a thin line. “You owe me a drink at the bar.”

“Deal.” Saanvi picked up the parcels and flashed a smile in Khepria’s direction. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Khepria sat down in her usual seat, the green wool chair right next to the fireplace. When Nora had asked her why she didn’t get hot sitting so close to the fire, Khepria had just said with an annoyed sneer that it reminded her of Egypt, where she had grown up. Nora supposed it made sense; England and Egypt had very different climates, though she had never been to Africa.

Theo clapped his hands together, snapping everyone’s attention to him. “Dr. Drake has asked us to do something for him,” he said.

“I don’t like where this is going,” whined Nicolas.

Saanvi slapped him on the shoulder. “Hush!”

Theo smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Saanvi. Now, as I was saying, Dr. Drake has proposed something to me, which is partially the reason I was late. As you probably know, the people in the United States have recently been very eager to kill the dragons there, as it has become a symbol of heroism to slay a beast that–though it has little effect on the villages nearby–is in an area close to a town or a heavily populated working site.” He paused to take a breath. “Of course, the Society is horrified by these actions, and they wish for someone to travel to the United States and take care of this problem.”

“And you volunteered us, didn’t you,” said Khepria flatly.

Theo took a deep breath. “Well, yes–”

“Oh, come on!” cried Saanvi. She threw up her hands and gave Theo an impressive glare. “We’ve gone on two missions in the past three months. And all of them have been overseas! Couldn’t you have gotten us an assignment a little closer to home?”

“This mission is more important than patrolling the woods for knuckers,” Theo said, his eyes boring into Saanvi’s. “Dr. Drake even has reason to think that the division of the society in the United States has been corrupted, or that there are spies working for the Dragonologists and using classified information to kill dragons. The implications of this are horrendous. Just imagine if the children here grow up thinking that dragons are creatures to be slain. Would you want that?”

Nora felt Theo’s words sink in. He had a way of making others’ arguments feel petty, though Nora knew that wasn’t what he intended. Saanvi flushed and turned away. “When do we leave?” she asked.

Theo smiled. “Ten days,” he said, clasping his hands together. “We just have to wait for Nikandr to arrive.”

Nora felt her head turn sharply to give him an expression of shock and anger she didn’t think was possible, and in her peripheral vision saw the others do the same. Khepria was the first one to speak.

“Are you out of your mind!” she shouted, her hand flying in the air so fast it looked like a blur. “Nikandr is the worst possible addition to this expedition.”

“As if it wasn’t already bad enough,” Saanvi added.

Nicolas crossed his arms, all of his limbs in roughly the same position. “Really Theo?”

Nora felt an obligation to speak as well, though she tried to fashion her question with a bit more tact than the others had shown. “Are you sure this is the best idea?” she asked quietly. “Nikandr may be smart, but it hasn’t gone well when we’ve had him join us in the past.”

Theo looked at the ground. “It wasn’t my idea. Dr. Drake would like Nikandr to have some practice working in a group he himself is not in charge of. Submitting to authority isn’t his strong suit, apparently.”

“I think we all knew that already,” said Khepria, and Nora had to nod.

“Nevertheless,” said Theo optimistically, seemingly ignoring Khepria’s comment and Nora’s agreement, “he will be joining us and we will treat him with respect, no matter what he does. Understood?”

The group nodded, and Theo pressed his hands together excitedly. “I suppose that’s all for today,” he said. “I’ll purchase our tickets. Prepare to leave for the United States!”

It took them a little over a week to arrive, and by the time they made it to Virginia, Theo had just about lost all patience with Nikandr.

It wasn’t that the man didn’t have manners, or didn’t know how to conduct himself in public. He was a polite fellow when he desired. Unfortunately, those wishes did not seem to appear often.

Nikandr stood a few feet away now, his blonde hair framing his lightly tanned face. Tomas was next to him, and they were arguing about something. Tomas seemed to be losing.

Theo winced as Nikandr made what Theo assumed to be a rather clever jab and Tomas flushed. Tomas may be the smartest person Theo had ever met, but he tended to be rather unpracticed in the art of insulting others. Which, Theo supposed, was a good thing to be bad at, but insults were Nikandr’s specialty, and Theo knew that such wordplay would leave Tomas feeling unintelligent. He felt for his friend, and if he thought he’d be able to keep Nikandr from being so unkind, he would walk over right now and pull the man aside for a talk, preferably one that would leave Nikandr blushing as hard as Tomas.

Theo shook the thoughts from his head. No, that wasn’t the way to do things. He would continue his method, one he had assured Nora would work the night before when she had stomped into Theo’s room and issued a loud complaint about Nikandr’s behavior. Theo had been confident then, assuring her that all things would work out. But now, seeing how Nikandr squashed Tomas with just his little finger, he wasn’t so sure.

As Tomas hurried away from Nikandr’s presence Theo got closer, until both young men stood next to each other at the railing. Theo glanced carefully at Nikandr. “What were you and Tomas talking about.”

He tried to keep his tone jovial, but Nikandr must have sensed that Theo was pretending because he laughed and said, “I’m sure it won’t take you long to figure out.”

Theo frowned. “You know, the rest of the team is petitioning to have you sent back to England.”

They weren’t. Theo had made it clear that Nikandr was staying through the whole mission. But a little intimidation couldn’t hurt.

Nikandr shrugged. “Then send me back.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

This made Nikandr laugh. “And why is that?”

Theo faced the water, watching the port grow closer. He squinted his eyes against the wind and said, “I believe that you can learn to work with the others. Stay long, and you’ll learn that we’re in need of fresh perspectives.”

“You’re just reaching for words.”

“Maybe.” Theo shrugged. “I just want you to know that you’ll have a place in this crew no matter what. Don’t forget it.” He clapped Nikandr on the back and made his way to the other side of the boat, where he could see Nicolas’s tall frame dancing to the band on the deck.

Theo made his rounds, engaging in short conversations with his entire crew until he finally came to Nora, who leaned against the rail, her chestnut curls pinned back in a loose twist at the nape of her neck. A few strands of hair had escaped, and they blew in the wind, dancing with the currents. Theo settled himself next to her, watching her eyes roam the tops of the waves.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked, and Nora shook her head. “I’m just watching,” she said, turning to smile at Theo. “Watching and waiting.”

“Aren’t we all,” murmured Theo as Nora turned back to the ocean, her brow furrowing in concentration. The sudden urge to reach out and smooth the wrinkles between Nora’s brow came over Theo’s body, and his hand twitched. He smiled to disguise the movement. “The captain says we’ll reach port in about half an hour. When we do, be ready to leave. I’ve already told the others, but if you would make sure Nicolas is prepared . . .”

Nora laughed. “I can do that.”

Theo smiled. “Thank you.”

Saanvi kept next to Nicolas as Theo asked around about areas heavy with dragons. A few sailors laughed at him and said that lads who went looking for a kill would be roasted, but several people gave helpful advice and pointed the group towards a town in the rural parts of the state. Theo bought train tickets, and they all crammed into a train compartment.

The ride began in silence. Tomas pulled out a book, Nora went through her bag, and Khepria spent the first thirty minutes with her eyes pressed closed. Then Theo turned to Nikandr and asked, “Do you miss Russia?”

Saanvi relished the momentary look of shock that crossed Nikandr’s face, but the boy shook himself off only a second later. “A bit,” he said, shrugging. The display of indifference was convincing, but Saanvi could see through the show. He did miss his home, a feeling Saanvi herself understood very deeply. She had lived in London for the past five years, but almost every day she wished she was back in India, wrapped in jewel-toned silks with her mother and father and siblings. But she had left them for a different life, and though she missed home, she didn’t regret her decision to come to London.

“What is Russia like?” asked Nicolas. He shook his light brown hair. “I hear it’s cold.”

“It is,” said Nikandr. “You get used to it after a while, though.”

“Why did you leave?” asked Nora. She seemed genuinely interested, and Saanvi thought she saw Theo glance over with approval. Saanvi recalled that Nora and Khepria had been the most resistant to Theo’s plan to include Nikandr in their group. Nora had told Saanvi that Theo had been insistent, even after the voyage on the ship, during which Nikandr had been rather horrible.

Nikandr tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. His blue eyes were pointed at the floor, seemingly intent on the interlocking pattern of the rug. Then he said, “Russians aren’t too keen on the whole Dragonology venture. Tsar Nicholas is vehement that the sciences be kept strictly to the government, and that common folk shouldn’t dabble in them.”

Saanvi got the sense that such a statement was an oddity coming from Nikandr. She smiled kindly, and for a moment, Nikandr seemed to give her a similar expression. Then he turned to the window, his pointed nose facing the glass.

Nicolas sighed deeply. “Will we arrive soon?” he asked, his voice almost a whine. Saanvi laughed and elbowed him. “We only just got on the train,” she said. “Distract yourself or something.”

“Distracting myself is a feat I don’t think I’ve managed to accomplish yet.”

Khepria opened one eye and raised the corresponding brow. “Yet you always seem to get distracted.”

Even Nikandr laughed, though it was quiet, and he continued to look away. But Theo seemed to brighten, and even Tomas looked up from his book. Perhaps Theo has been right. Perhaps including Nikandr was the right decision.

Nora wished she hadn’t packed so many things as she carried her bag through the station. It had been a horrible decision to bring all her equipment, and Theo had told her that she should pack light. But she had insisted that she would need everything and was regretting that decision now as her shoulder began to ache.

“They’re saying that the dragons have been attacking,” said Theo as they made their way across the fields. “I have a hard time believing that, and if there have been dragon attacks, they must have been provoked.”

Nikandr raised an eyebrow. “You have a hard time believing there have been dragon attacks?”

Theo nodded.

Nikandr laughed derisively. “Then that smoke must be from a bonfire.”

Theo’s head snapped in the direction Nikandr pointed. Indeed, a column of black smoke rose from the fields nearby, drifting through the wind. Nora was surprised she hadn’t picked up the scent before. It was one she had smelled more often than she wished to admit.

“Tomas?” asked Theo.

Tomas cocked his head. “It certainly looks like dragon smoke. The color is too dark to be from a typical campfire, and it has the proper scent. We can only be certain if we check.”

Theo gestured to Nikandr. “Lead the way.”

Nikandr bowed in Theo’s direction. “Nothing would please me more.”

Nora sighed as they turned to the smoke, groaning as she anticipated the ache in her shoulder and back.

By the time they arrived, Khepria’s shirtsleeves were stuck to her arms with sweat and her face dripped with the liquid. She flipped her braids from one shoulder to the net for the millionth time, feeling a faint breeze on her skin from the lack of weight. Then the heat pressed back down on her.

She may have said she enjoyed the heat of Africa, but she had grown far too accustomed to the coolness of London. The others looked worse off, especially Nikandr, who had shed his red wool coat and had rolled his shirtsleeves up. Nicolas had taken off his teal waistcoat, and Nora’s face was flushed deep red. She grunted as she let her bag drop to the ground. Khepria decided she didn’t want to know how heavy the thing was.

“This is definitely the work of a dragon,” said Tomas. He was the only one who looked unaffected by the heat, but that may have been because he was only dressed in a thin white shirt and trousers instead of the suits the other boys wore, and the vests and skirts the girls had donned.

In front of them lay a scar, a village burnt to the ground. The grass around the village was scorched and gone. Khepria saw Nora crouch down and take a vial from her bag. She filled it with ash and set a cork in the top before sticking it back with her supplies.

Theo looked the most mournful of them all. He did have the strongest ideals, and Khepria figured that the broiled bodies strewn about the ground pained him. Saanvi had her head turned away, and Nicolas looked serious for once. Even Nikandr had lost his usual cockiness.

Theo stepped forward and kneeled next to the burnt body of a little girl. He touched one of the intact fingers. “We should bury them,” he said in a whisper, his voice lifted by the bitter wind. Nicolas nodded, a sharp movement that Saanvi copied. Tomas, who had been pulling the handcart with their bags, set down the handles and began searching the carnage.

Khepria joined them a moment later. She assumed they were looking for a shovel or something similar, and when Nora held up a slightly charred shovel her suspicions were confirmed. Theo took the shovel and began to dig a grave. Soon, the others joined with their own shovels. Those who didn’t have any gathered the bodies, dragging them to the newly dug graves.

Khepria’s hands had never felt dirtier, yet some invisible force made her continue. She didn’t know if it was Nicolas’s smile or Tomas’s constant badgering or Theo’s unwavering energy, but whatever it was gave her strength until the final bit of dirt was laid on the final grave. Khepria heaved a deep sigh and felt whatever had kept her going wither away until she was an empty husk of herself.

They had spent all night burying the village, and the sun had just begun to paint brushstrokes of orange and pink on the horizon. Theo turned to Tomas. “Is there a prayer for the dead?” he asked, his voice soft in the stillness of the cool morning air.

Without answering, Tomas stepped forward and bowed his head, his close-cut dark hair damp with sweat, his golden skin glimmering with little beads of the liquid. He faced the plain white stones they had used to mark the graves and began his prayer.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I commend you, my dear brothers and sisters, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator.

May you return to him who formed you from the dust of the earth.

May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life.

May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace.

May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise.

May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of his flock.

May he forgive all your sins, and set you among those he has chosen. Amen.”

The final vestiges of the prayer drifted away. Khepria wasn’t keen on Catholic prayers. There were too many words, too little action. Though she didn’t believe in the Egyptian gods, she preferred their method. Sacrifices, a few simple words, then indifference until the next day.

Theo placed a hand on Tomas’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.

They stood silently for a few more minutes, watching the sun bathe the fresh graves in golden light, the carnage of the village resplendent in the glowing sunshine. The wind picked up, and for a moment, Khepria thought she could hear laughter from the graves. Perhaps the Catholic saints had come.

#genre: intrusive fantasy #inklingschallenge #team chesterton #theme: burial #story: complete #original work #short story #dragonology

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buckysgrace · 7 months

Text

Twenty Two

Kim slept restfully the night after that. She lingered on the thought, wondering if it had to do with the alcohol or not. She was still worried that Rosemary would tell Sam, but he hadn’t indicated that anything was wrong. She hoped that it stayed that way.

Billy was true to his word. The next day after school she’d spotted his car further ahead, just sitting there and waiting. Max had cocked an eyebrow, clearly noticing but saying nothing about the subject. Kim bit her lip, staying behind a few paces with her so Russell wouldn’t hear.

“Can you cover for me?” Kim asked Max hopefully as she pouted her lips out, worried that Max might reject her. Kim was too afraid to ask Sam again, just in case Rosemary had snitched on her.

“Are you going to tell him to come back?” Max asked, her eyebrows raised on her forehead as she looked at Kim expectantly. Kim sighed, glancing towards the door in worry. She nodded her head, but knew that she could do nothing until Billy was ready. “I’m trying,” Kim told her truthfully, “You’re both stubborn.” She said a second later as a smile crept up on her lips. Max looked at her in disbelief, like that was the first time she’d ever been compared to Billy.

“I am not stubborn,” Max wrinkled her eyebrows together, “Just don’t be too late.” She muttered underneath her breath, looking like she wasn’t really sure about sending Kim off. Kim felt excitement fluttering inside of her chest at the aspect of having the afternoon alone with Billy.

“I won’t,” Kim grinned as she passed Max her backpack. She gave her a quick hug before she turned down the street, “I’ll tell him you said you miss him!” She sent a wide wave as she continued her quick movements.

“Hey! I never said that !” Max shouted after her. Kim giggled to herself, her smile bright and plastered to her lips as she approached the familiar blue camaro. She was thankful she wouldn’t have to worry about driving. She was still terrible at it in her opinion.

“Hi,” Kim breathed in, temporarily forgetting how to breathe as she took in his easy smile and sun kissed features, “Missed you.” She told him softly before she leaned forward to press her lips against his. She felt her lips curling into a smile with his.

“Hey,” He grinned in response, moving his hands to cup her jawline so he could deepen the kiss, “Missed you too, Red.” He mumbled softly against her lips, dragging their skin together. She giggled in response as she settled in the seat and buckled herself up. She glanced in the rearview mirror, reassuring herself that no one had followed her down the street.

“Where are we going?” She asked him curiously as he began to drive down the street. He rolled the windows down, letting the fresh air roll over them. She breathed in deeply, taking in the saltiness from the ocean as her hair danced in the wind.

“Mission Beach,” He grinned at her as he pulled a cigarette from where it was tucked on top of his ear, “Have you been?” he asked her curiously as he balanced the cigarette between his lips. She watched as he lit it up. She wondered how many boxes he’d gone through in the past week.

“A few times,” She said, feeling a little excited as she turned towards him, “Should I get a swimsuit?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, unsure of how she was supposed to swim in the outfit she was wearing. She had on a pair of shorts that held a bright blue paisley design. She assumed she could swim in it, but she didn’t want to get his chairs wet and sandy afterwards.

“We’re not going swimming this time.” He spoke softly, dismissing her worries as he headed down the street. She watched closely, doing her best to help him find one of the free parking spots.

“What are we doing then?” She asked cautiously, hoping that he wasn’t running her to one of the nude beaches that she had heard about. She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with anyone else seeing her naked, much less seeing other people naked. She felt a shrill feeling of horror filling her, wondering how the cops would explain to her parents that she’d been eaten by a shark while naked. She wondered if they could leave that detail out.

“I wanted to show you some of the places I liked,” He blew out a puff of smoke as he parked the car, “You know, let you try some of the food.” She breathed in out in relief, nodding her head as she suddenly felt excited. He looked at her curiously but she did her best to hide her thoughts.

“Oh,” Kim beamed from ear to ear, “I’d really like that.” She told him truthfully as she rested her hands on her knees. Billy rose first then quickly took long strides across the front of the car to pull her door open. She smiled in thanks as she stood.

She felt a spark racing up her arm as he linked their fingers together and guided her down the busy crosswalk. She looked around, forgetting how different San Diego was. It didn’t seem to be nearly as busy as Chicago, but it was also not so compacted on this side of town. She bumped into Billy as she walked, too busy trying to breathe in everything at once.

“I did miss it here,” He admitted a second later, his eyes mirroring the same curiosity that she felt at the moment. She wondered if he had truly been cooped up in Tommy’s dorm or if he had been to the ocean later. She grew fearful of realizing that he could’ve been doing other things to occupy his mind, “What?” He asked softly.

“Nothing,” She dismissed her own worries as she squeezed his hand softly, “This is just nice.” She added softly, fearing that she may offend him if she spoke her mind. Billy nodded, smiling in agreement as he dipped them into a small pop up food booth. She glanced over, trying to spot the name of the restaurant before realizing that she’d missed it completely.

She didn’t get much time to examine the pictures and set up of the restaurant before Billy had already ordered and paid. She followed behind him quickly as the crowd within the tiny restaurant quickly grew. He led her outside with a grin on his lips.

“Try this,” He held out a piece of food that had a flaky crust and resembled a crescent moon, “It’s really good.” He reassured her as he began to eat his own. She took a whiff, noting that there was nothing bad smelling.

“What’s this?” She asked curiously, still unsure if she would like it as she examined it. It looked like it could be a dessert, but she could clearly tell by the smell that it had some sort of meat in it. She lightly pressed her fingertips together at the end of the soft dough.

“Chicken empanada,” He grinned, covering his mouth as he chewed, “Remember, we talked about you trying it?” He asked her a second later, trying to spur the memory inside of her. She nodded her head, remembering now as he mentioned it.

“Oh, right,” She smiled in return as she nibbled on a small edge piece. She narrowed her eyes as she chewed it around in her mouth before she decided it was safe to take another bite, “I really like this.” She told him honestly.

“Yeah?” His smile grew even larger, “I told you they were fucking good.” His smile was a little cocky as she took another bite from it, admiring the way the chicken seemed to melt in her mouth. She grinned.

“You were right,” She added softly, not caring if it inflated his ego or not, “What’s next?” She asked curiously, feeling like she was getting a little piece of him the more that they explored. He didn’t offer how he knew of these places, but she pictured a younger him exploring these same stores. She couldn’t picture Neil with him. She suddenly wondered if Rosemary had brought him here before she left.

“I don’t really like onions.” She said a few minutes later as she inspected the taco he was holding up to her. He’d already taken a bite from it, clearly exposing the vegetable that was hidden inside of it. She did her best to keep her nose down, but the more she thought about biting into a raw onion the more her nose curled up.

“Come on,” He urged her as he chewed down another bite, “You have to try it all together. It’s amazing.” He said with a smile, grinning as he licked away the liquid from the corner of his mouth. He handed it to her, still holding it in his hands as the juice dripped down into the box. She looked at it curiously, taking in the shredded beef and cilantro that

“Wow,” She nodded her head in agreement, watching the way he smiled at her as she chewed the food in her mouth. It was slightly spicy and the bitterness of the onion was pungent and sharp, but it wasn’t bad. However, she didn’t really care for the cilantro. It reminded her a bit of what dish soap might taste like, “It’s good.” She grinned at him as she wiped the corner of her lips.

“I love it,” He said truthfully as he bit into it again, “I used to get these all the time during the summer.” He explained softly. She smiled, listening as she decided to take another bite from it. It wasn’t as good as the empanada but she didn’t say anything to protest it.

“You should’ve met Addi’s mom sooner,” She told him teasingly as he finished the rest of his taco, “I bet you would’ve liked her cooking.” Billy grinned in response as he licked the grease from his fingers. She watched through heavy lids, thinking about how nice it would feel to have his fingers inside of her mouth.

“Is she hot?” He teased her softly, his blue eyes flickering over her features in amusement. She grinned, knowing that he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

“Addi looks like her.” Kim challenged, curious to see how he’d respond. He raised his eyebrows for a second, looking like he didn’t expect her to tease him back. She smiled brightly at him, trying to search his features for an answer.

“Huh,” He shrugged it off with a knowing smile, “I want you to try this soup.” He said as he walked towards another place. She linked their fingers together as he stepped up to order. She distracted herself by looking at the menu, wondering how there was so much food that she’d never heard of.

“This is a little different but it’s good,” He quickly reassured her as they took a seat at a small round table. She raised her eyebrows, a little unsure of his statement. She watched as he pressed it up to his lips and took a big spoonful. She didn’t find his stoic reaction too helpful, as Billy ate about anything, “Your turn.” He grinned as he wiped the remainder of the broth from his lips.

She looked down at the red liquid as she dipped the spoon in there. She spun the ingredients around for a moment, wondering it was a type of chili as she was sure she spotted meat and possibly beans. She paused for a moment before she brought the spoon up to her mouth.

“What was this called?” She breathed out, her cheeks reddening from the flavor that washed over her. She fought the urge to cough as the flavors burned and tickled across her tongue and down her neck. Her lips curled as she licked away the broth that was left on her lips, the taste of the chile tingled across her lips and tongue. She chewed and chewed on the meat, but still felt like she was unable to swallow it.

“Menudo,” He said casually, glancing at her with a little amusement in his eyes as he took another sip of the broth, “It’s a type of soup.” He told her again. She took her napkin and swabbed it inside of her mouth to remove the meat, unable to continue chewing on it for much longer. It was beginning to remind her of gum but without the minty taste.

“It was a little spicy,” She said a second later, still feeling like her cheeks were flushed as she drank from their shared soda, “I’m just not used to it.” She reassured him a second later, feeling a bit bad for not liking it. He chuckled.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to like it,” He said softly as he finished the rest of the soup. She felt her stomach curl, unsure of how he could handle it so easily, “Do you want something sweet?” She raised her eyebrows, still feeling like she needed to fan her mouth.

“Are you really asking that?” She teased him softly, knowing that she could never deny something sweet and tasty. He grinned widely before he pulled his wallet out again. She felt bad that he was paying for everything, but she hadn’t expected to need any money either.

“Be right back,” He tapped his palm against the table as he stood, heading back in the direction he’d come from. She waited for a few minutes as she stood from the table, deciding she preferred to stretch her legs out. She was surprised at how easily he was acting like he was unbothered, like he wasn’t hurt. She hoped he wasn’t trying to bury his feelings away, “Try this first.” He said as he held the drink towards her.

“Chamoyada?” She questioned, reading the words on the cup in uncertainty as she was unsure if she’d pronounced it correctly, “What’s that?” She turned towards Billy before she looked back down at the yellow and red drink. It almost looked like a slushee.

“It's shaved ice,” He explained as he wrapped his arms around her slender waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, “It’s like sweet and a little spicy. I think you’d like it.” He grinned as he peppered a kiss against the crook of her neck. She giggled, her body shivering at the sensation that traveled up her spine. It always tickled on that side of her neck.

“Yeah?” She grinned, enjoying the smell of the mint and nicotine that rolled off of his tongue, “It looks good.” She observed as she swirled the straw around, ensuring that there weren’t any large chunks of anything hidden away. He chuckled.

“Don’t be a wimp,” He teased her as he straightened out, “Just take a drink.” He swatted at her bottom, taking her by surprise as she felt her eyes widen. She bit her lip, feeling a burning forming in the pit of her stomach as she pulled the straw up between her lips.

“Oh boy,” She cringed for a moment, her eyes squinting as the flavor attacked her tongue, “That’s strong.” She told him as one eyebrow popped high on her forehead. She coughed this time, completely taken back at the flavor that traveled down her neck.

“You don’t like it?” Billy furrowed his eyebrows together, his lips parted so Kim could see where he was gnashing his teeth together like he was worried at what her reaction would be. She slowly relaxed as she took another gulp from the straw, trying to pretend like it wasn’t that bad. There was a taste of something fruity, something that was unknown but tasted fairly good.

“No, no I do,” She reassured him quickly as she pressed her lips tightly together to keep from coughing, “It’s just a little spicy.” She squeaked out, feeling like she needed more experience with the flavor.

“Maybe we should’ve got a horchata instead.” He still looked like he was wincing as he watched her reaction. She passed the cup back to him, wondering what a horchata consisted of.

“It’s alright,” She added as she took another drink, her body scrunching up on the emphasis as the flavor hit her again, “Not bad at all.” She officially let him have the cup after that, unsure if her tongue could handle anymore of the spice.

“Here,” He laughed as he passed her a plate, “It’s cake. Just milk, I promise. It’s not spicy.” He promised her as he passed her the plate. She looked at it, thinking that it looked like a simple vanilla cake.

“Why didn’t we start with this?” She asked him seriously as she devoured it, “This is amazing.” She moaned softly as she let the flavors mingle on her tongue. She preferred this much better to anything else that they’d eaten thus far.

“Figured that would be your favorite thing,” He brought the straw up to his lips as he watched her in amusement, “How are things?” He asked cautiously, darting his eyes away to keep his emotions hidden. She tilted her head towards him before she spoke up again.

“At the house?” She asked softly, feeling like home wasn’t the right way to describe it. Billy nodded softly, “Not bad. I sort of snapped at Rosemary last night. I got in trouble for going over curfew.” She admitted, feeling a sheepish smile forming on her lips. Billy’s eyebrows raised high on his forehead, looking a little stunned.

“Who were you with?” He asked curiously a second later. She knew his question wasn’t from jealousy, rather from confusion. She was just as surprised that she had spoken to people so quickly. In Hawkins it took weeks before she wasn’t attached to Billy’s hip.

“Um this girl Danielle,” She said softly, “She invited me over. She seems nice. She had two of her friends over, they’re twins. Calum and Audrey.” She shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to admit to too much. She still felt guilty for drinking.

“Calum?” Billy stopped mid drink, looking at her curiously with his eyebrows raised high again. She giggled softly, realizing that it was jealousy this time.

“He’s kinda dorky,” Kim brushed Billy off with a smile, “He’s not nearly as handsome or sweet as you are.” She reassured him as she squeezed his hand. He chuckled, looking reassured for a moment. She thought he was silly to think that there could be anyone other than him.

“Ha,” Billy replied but smiled at her anyways, “School isn’t that bad then?” He asked softly, his blue eyes observing her deeply as if he was trying to sort out any lies she had. She shook her head, determined that she wouldn’t hide anything else from him.

“I eat lunch with Max in the library,” She said slowly. Billy’s eyes snapped forward to meet hers again as concern filled in, “I mean no one’s mean if that’s what you’re asking. They just ignore me, kinda like before.” She shrugged her shoulders. She still preferred that to be messed with daily.

“They’re assholes.” Billy grumbled once they’d thrown their trash away. He took a hold of her hand again as he led her down the busy street as they made their way towards the beach. She felt her eyes widening in appreciation, thinking that it looked particularly beautiful today.

“You never noticed me in school either.” She pointed out teasingly as she swayed their hands back and forth. He looked down at her curiously, like he was finding the words to defend himself.

“We never had classes together,” He told her quickly, “You said that Adrian had invited you over, right?” He said suddenly as she watched as a pack of seagulls dipped by them from the sky.

“Huh?” She looked away from the seagulls that blew by, “Oh yeah. I had to watch Max though.” She told him again as they stopped near the sand. She quickly kicked off her shoes and socks, watching as he followed her lead. She picked her shoes up in her hands as she beamed towards him. Billy pressed his tongue against his cheek as he thought for a moment.

“Him and I had discussed sharing a girl before, you know, trying out a threesome,” He paused for a moment as she enjoyed the feeling of the warm sand between her toes, “I guess he picked you. I didn’t know you then.” He told her quickly, like he was defending himself from sounding weird.

“Oh,” Kim’s eyes widened as the flush spread over her cheeks, “ Oh . Oh my. That would’ve been awkward after our parents got married.” She giggled softly at the thought, sure that she would’ve never been able to look him in the eye. She felt a little warm at his revelation, unsure of how she thought about being with two men.

“Or we would’ve had more fun,” He smirked at her as his eyes traced down to her collarbone before he stopped at her necklace, “Maybe things could’ve been different.” He suggested softly with a shrug. She nodded her head in agreement, thinking that he was definitely right.

“Were you close with Adrian then?” She asked curiously as she bent over to set her shoes down on the sand. She assured that it was close enough for her to see, but also not that close so the water didn’t get them wet.

“I guess,” He looked away as she took his shoes from his hands and positioned them next to hers, “We were friends.” She peered up at him, noticing the way he suddenly looked uncomfortable. She felt a little concerned, pondering what may have gone wrong.

“What happened?” She asked him curiously, not remembering Adrian being any of Billy’s friends that hung around him. She couldn’t remember many of his friends from here, but was honestly surprised that he considered Adrian to be a friend.

“You wanna get in the water?” He held his hand out towards her, waiting for her to stand up. She laced their fingers together as he helped her stand. She felt curious, unsure of why he wanted to change the topic so quickly.

“Yeah,” She told him quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment that they were having, “Just knee deep. We should’ve brought swimsuits.” She told him with a smile. He chuckled as he tugged her out towards the ocean.

The waves rolled in lazily, the cool water tickling against her toes as they stepped in further. She looked down at the sand curiously, her eyes grazing over the different seashells that they stepped over. She let her feet sink into the sand as a sense of relaxation pressed over her.

She closed her eyes, letting the sun trickle onto her face as the waves crashed up against her knees. She inhaled deeply, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. She wondered if Billy felt the same or if he was still thinking about Rosemary.

“This is nice,” Kim opened her eyes as she turned to face him, noticing that he had his eyes shut as well, “Do you think we could find an apartment by the beach?” His lips cracked into a grin before he opened his eyes to look at her.

“I bet we could,” He told her as he linked their fingers together, “After you finish school.” She grumbled softly as she swayed their connected hands back and forth.

“Why does it have to be so far away?” She asked him curiously, knowing that Sam really would help them find a place. She didn’t think it was that bad of an idea. She thought of Max again, but hoped that she wouldn’t be upset.

“I don’t have a job yet,” He said softly as his lips curled up into a grin, “If we wait we could save up for a really nice place.” He told her realistically as he squeezed their fingers together. She looked over at him, wondering if he just didn’t want to feel like he’d owe Sam something.

“Will you come back?” She asked softly, feeling like a small child suddenly. He turned towards her again, his face radiating from how the sun was dancing across his skin. She knew the answer before he spoke.

“Not yet,” He said gently, “I’m sorry.” He said genuinely, in a way that Kim knew that he meant it. She nodded her head, wishing that things could stay how they were right now. She didn’t ask him about it again, not wanting their moment to be ruined.

/////////////////

School wasn’t so bad. She hadn’t gone back over to Danielle’s but they talked quite a bit. Danielle really was interested in art, although she found out she was only good at sculpting things. She’d shared a sketch or two but Kim could barely make out what was happening within the picture.

She even spoke to Calum some more, though she was still unsure of what his motives really were. She found out he was really smart and he talked more about history than anything else. She decided that dorky really was the correct way to describe him.

Even Audrey was nice to her. Kim shared more classes with her than the other two. Kim found out that she played the violin and was a huge fan of Wham!, and she also enjoyed romance books.

“I can’t,” Kim said softly as they cornered her one afternoon, “I eat with my sister in the library.” She explained with a shrug of her shoulders. Danielle looked a little confused but Kim blamed that on her not having any siblings.

“You eat lunch with your sister?” Calum asked as he raised one of his eyebrows, looking like it was a ridiculous statement to make. Kim felt her cheeks beginning to prick and burn.

“So do you, you moron,” Audrey shook her head, “She can join us too.” Audrey reassured her with a big smile. Kim faltered for a moment before she nodded her head, hoping that Max wouldn’t mind the change too much.

Max, as Kim suspected, wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. However, the more time that passed the more that she eventually loosened up. Kim felt bad, knowing that she was still struggling to make friends with kids her own age. She had said there were a few boys that had invited her to the skate park, but she had been unsure if she would go or not.

Kim had been doing her best to avoid Rosemary at the house. She felt awkward, but more importantly she felt guilty for what she had said to her. She didn’t really know why Rosemary had left Billy behind, just that it had happened. She knew she shouldn’t have spoken up, but now she had been too embarrassed to apologize. Sam hadn’t brought it up, which let her know that Rosemary hadn’t spoken of it either.

“Morning,” Sam smiled as she dragged herself into the kitchen. She fumbled around for a moment, still trying to blink the sleep from her eyes as she settled herself onto one of the highchairs. Sam passed her a bowl and she looked down curiously as she realized it was oatmeal, “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” She said softly, “Is Max coming?” She dipped her spoon into the hot oatmeal and slowly began to mix it around, although she wasn’t really that hungry. She felt nervous again as she would once again be pushed somewhere that she wasn’t familiar with.

“Her and Russell will come in a little later,” Sam said softly, “I’ll come in too, once it actually opens. Usually the morning shift is all there by six.” He observed as he glanced towards the clock. She felt her eyes widening a little bit, unsure of why Rosemary would willingly get up so early.

“That’s so early,” She spoke surprised, “Does she make everything the day of?” She asked curiously between bites. It tasted like nothing, but she thought it was more from her nerves than anything else. She had never considered how bakeries actually operated.

“Just what we’re putting out on the shelves,” Sam responded as he drank from his coffee cup, “She does the orders differently. I try to stay out of her way in the kitchen. She’s the boss, I just do what I’m told.” He chuckled softly as he brought his coffee cup back up to his lips. Kim didn’t say anything, but thought that part of him carried into their relationship too.

“What will I be doing then?” She asked curiously as she furrowed her eyebrows together. She’d never really worked on cakes before, definitely not in a professional setting. She wasn’t sure how she would be expected to assist Rosemary.

“You’ll see,” He smiled as he grabbed his keys, “I figured I could drive you in this morning?” He questioned, looking at her to make sure that it was fine. She walked past him to wash her bowl out in the sink.

“Sure,” She nodded her head in agreement, not really trusting to find her way to the bakery this early, “I’m ready whenever you are.” She told him honestly after she had dried and washed her hands.

The car ride was silent, still a little tense as Sam drove them towards the restaurant. Kim couldn’t find anything to say, anything to ask him. She was still too afraid to speak too much in case he revealed how disgusted he was with her.

Rosemary & Sage . Kim peered at the sign for a moment, thinking that it was a rather cute name for a bakery. She glanced at the warm lights that were pouring out from the large windows. She glanced towards Sam, ensuring that he was getting out of the car before she tugged herself out.

“It’s cute,” Kim told Sam honestly as she followed him around to the back. She pulled her arms together over her chest, feeling a chill settling over her from the early morning air, “It’s a nice spot.” She said, unsure of what else to add.

“Rosemary had been eyeing it for a while,” Sam explained as he unlocked the back door and guided her inside. She peeked around curiously as he walked ahead and grabbed something for her, “Is your hair long enough to be pulled back? Or just shove it all up in this.” He said as he held out a hair net to her.

She nodded her head, wishing she had brought bobby pins to pull her hair back. It was too short to pull it back into a ponytail. She roughly tugged her hair up into the hair net, ensuring that all of her strands were neatly placed within.

“Hey,” Sam greeted Rosemary as they walked through the back. Kim felt her eyes darting around as she tried to take in everything at once. There were plenty of sheets of cakes and cupcakes that were already out and resting, “She made it.” Sam smiled as he bent forward to press a kiss against Rosemary’s lips.

“Good,” Rosemary smiled up towards him, her eyes flickering. Kim felt awkward as she glanced back down at the floor, feeling guilty for the way she’d spoken to Rosemary the other night, “We’ve got lots to do.”

“I’ll bring the other two up in a bit,” Sam paused before he gently tapped the back of Kim’s shoulder, “Have fun.”

“Rosemary,” Kim started slowly as she approached Rosemary. She felt nervous as she looked down at her and began to pop her knuckles, “I’m sorry about what I said the other night. That was wrong of me.” She apologized truthfully, knowing that she had been in the wrong.

“You’re forgiven,” Rosemary said as she finished pulling out a tray of hot cupcakes, “Are you alright?” She asked a second later, looking at Kim a little worried as she watched her features. Kim teetered back and forth on her feet, knowing what Rosemary meant.

“I don’t really drink,” Kim said softly, not really liking how she was being compared to Sam, “I don’t know why I did it.” She said at last. She wanted to reassure herself that it was just for fun, but she was no longer sure if that was the reason or not. She felt exposed suddenly as she averted her eyes away.

“Sam really cares a lot about you,” Rosemary said gently, her voice warm and thick like honey, “He doesn’t want you to go down the same path.” She added a second later. Kim rubbed at her arm, wondering how many freckles decorated her skin.

“I know,” Kim admitted a second later. She wondered how much Rosemary knew about Sam, “It was just for fun.” She decided that was the best answer, than to admit that she was doing it to forget something. She didn’t want Rosemary to speak that to Sam.

“That can be dangerous too,” Rosemary shook her head, like she was keeping herself from speaking on the subject, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone else.” She smiled as she changed the subject. Kim nodded her head, thankful for that.

She followed Rosemary back towards the front, taking in the cute way the shop was decorated. It was clear to her then that Rosemary had spent a great time on the decorations in their house, as this looked fairly similar. Kim paused at the front wall, taking in the pictures that decorated it there. There were two of just Rosemary and Sam, then one of them with Russell. Russell had another solo picture and then there was one of Kim and Max too. Kim felt her heart patter as she looked in the corner of it, noticing a slightly older picture. It was Billy, one that she hadn’t seen before. He was on Rosemary’s lap, mirroring her same smile as he had his little arms wrapped around her neck.

“This is Phil, Dottie and Cindy,” Rosemary introduced each of them. Kim felt her cheeks flush, her eyes widening as Cindy's features wrinkled up in recognition as well, “This is my stepdaughter, Kim. She’s quite the artist.” Kim looked down at her confused, unsure of how Rosemary knew such a thing.

“Nice to meet you,” Phil smiled as he reached his hand out towards her. Kim took it awkwardly, her hand jerking roughly from how hard he shook her hand, “Sam talks up a storm about you and your sister.” He said a second later, taking Kim completely by surprise.

“Welcome to the family,” Dottie grinned as she sent Kim a little wave. She looked to be around Rosemary’s age, “I hope you like it here.” She nodded quickly before she turned back to the half finished tray of cupcakes in front of her.

Cindy said nothing, just sent Kim a small wave before she was bustling back towards the front. She didn’t look much different than Kim remembered her. She still had bright blonde hair, tan skin and looked at her in such a way that made her skin crawl.

“Russell usually does the dishes,” Rosemary said softly, “I figured Max could help him, maybe just do table orders for right now. She said she’s not good at decorating.” Rosemary looked to Kim, like she was confirming that Max wasn’t lying.

“She’s not an artist,” Kim confirmed, feeling like a small child as she followed close behind Rosemary, “I’ve never really done cakes either.” Kim admitted, feeling like she was just as clueless as Max would be.

“Oh it’s easy,” Rosemary smiled as she pulled out a pink piping bag from a bucket. She slid a round metal piece that the cupcakes would rest on, “I’ll show you.” She said softly, taking a moment to demonstrate how to make little daisy flowers. Kim watched curiously before Rosemary handed the piping bag to her.

“Like this?” Kim asked unsure, wrinkling her eyebrows together in dismay at how messy it looked, “It looks bad.” She said a second later, recognizing how all of her petals were different shapes. She looked behind her, noticing another figure looking over her shoulder.

“Flowers are easy,” Cindy drew out, “That’s like the basics of cake making.” She told her pointedly, her nose turning up like it was the worst thing she’d ever seen. Kim felt her shoulders sagging, suddenly feeling like she had no confidence in standing up for herself again.

“Kim has never made cakes before,” Rosemary reminded Cindy shortly, “She’s going to learn just like the rest of us did.” She nodded encouragingly as she moved next to Kim again. Kim took a second to collect herself, begging her hand to keep from shaking as she tried another flower.

“It’s not as bad,” She said softly once it was finished. It was still messy, not nearly as pretty as the cakes decorated out front, “Well, maybe it is.” She said a second later, noticing how it turned into a blob instead of a flower. Rosemary shook her head, keeping quiet until Cindy left again.

“Sorry about her,” Rosemary shook her head, “Her parents gave me a hefty loan and have been quite lenient on it as long as she is secured a job here.” She muttered underneath her breath, looking irritated as she spoke.

“I used to be friends with her,” Kim spoke quickly, blushing at how fast she spit it out, “I mean, on my part. Not on hers.” She shrugged her shoulders softly, feeling a little pathetic at what she just said. She wasn’t sure why she had the sudden urge to spill her guts to Rosemary.

“I never was good at making friends,” Rosemary nodded her head in agreement, “I preferred the company of animals instead.” She smiled softly, like she thought Kim could agree with that statement. Kim liked animals, but hadn’t been around enough to know if she preferred their company or not.

“Are roses hard to make?” Kim asked instead, wondering if it would be easier to build a flower up rather than draw it on something flat. She wrinkled her nose in dismay, wondering how much icing she’d waste until she got it right.

“Roses aren’t bad at all,” Rosemary dismissed her as she stood in front of Kim, “Grab the bag like this, good job. Hold onto the pole like this and just do little strokes.” Rosemary said in concentration as she worked slowly to show Kim how to make a rose.

“You make it look easy.” Kim admitted as she turned to look down at Rosemary. She could see where Billy got his long eyelashes and even the small freckles that decorated his nose. He definitely favored Rosemary.

“I’ve been doing it for a while,” Rosemary said softly, “And it’s okay to mess up. Just scoop it off and put it back in the bag.” She replied cheerily, demonstrating her actions before she scooped the icing back into the piping bag.

“Do you only make cakes?” Kim asked curiously as she began to work on her flower. She felt an ache beginning to form in her muscles from where she was not used to moving her arms this way. Rosemary began to decorate the cupcakes that had cooled off.

“That and cupcakes for right now,” She said as she observed Kim’s movements, “I want to add cookies and other stuff eventually. This is a good start.” She nodded her head, looking rather excited at the idea. Kim thought the idea of a bakery was cute.

“Billy said you make good pie.” Kim wasn’t sure what possessed her to bring Billy up again. Rosemary froze suddenly, glancing towards Kim before she gently set the cupcake down that she was working on. Kim gulped hard, wondering if she had said something wrong.

“He did?” Rosemary nearly whispered, like she was afraid of speaking out fully. Kim watched the way her blue eyes softened, how they were filled with sorrow and hurt. Kim could clearly tell that she regretted what she did, but Kim didn’t know if Billy would forgive her either.

“Yeah,” Kim paused, unsure if she should be telling Rosemary this or not, “That’s what he wanted for his birthday.” She glanced back down as she worked on the rose. It wasn’t nearly as messy, but she was still struggling to control how much icing came out from the bag.

“Oh,” Rosemary paused before she smiled at Kim, “I’m glad he still likes it.” She nodded her head slowly, before turning away to work again. They fell into a comfortable silence, but Kim felt like she had betrayed Billy in some sort of odd way. She wondered if he’d be mad to know that she was helping his mom out. She hoped he wouldn’t be, that he’d understand.

They fell into silence for a while as Kim continued to practice making small designs as Rosemary worked on icing the cupcakes. It wasn’t long after that Rosemary had Kim switch and start to put down the base color on the cupcakes while she went in with the designs.

“That’s pretty,” Rosemary said as she looked at Kim’s neck, “Is that a ring?” She asked confused as her blue eyes searched over the locket and ring around her neck. Kim gulped hard.

“Yeah,” Kim darted her eyes back towards the cupcake she was icing, “My boyfriend got it for me.” She muttered softly, hoping that Rosemary wouldn’t make a big deal about it. She feared that Rosemary would recognize the jewelry like Neil had, but she was obviously clueless to it.

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?” Rosemary grinned in response, “Are you making long distance work?” She asked curiously. Kim set down her cupcake, making sure that it didn’t look too messy.

“Um, yeah,” Kim said a second later, “He’s away right now. It makes it hard.” She told Rosemary briefly, not feeling like any of her statements were a lie. She breathed in deeply, reminding herself that everything would work itself out.

“I’m sure,” Rosemary nodded her head in agreement, “He makes you happy though?” She looked a little worried, like she was fearful of what Kim’s answer would be. Kim reminded herself that Rosemary was about her age when she met Neil. Billy had said they were young when they had him too. “Yeah,” Kim told her honestly, “Happier than I’ve ever been.” She told Rosemary truthfully, feeling a hint of a smile forming on her lips. Things were hard right now, but it didn't’ really matter. Her and Billy loved each other and things had worked out before. They’d work out again. She was sure of it.

/////////////////

“Rosemary said you did good on your first day.” Sam smiled as he sat himself down next to Kim. She paused for a moment as she began to pull at her fingers. Max and Russell sat at the opposite couch, working together as Max tried to guide him through a level on his game.

“It wasn’t too bad,” Kim admitted, “The frosting part was pretty fun.” She said with a smile. It wasn’t so bad. Last cake orders were picked up at two and the bakery was officially closed at three. Kim had also been allowed to eat more cupcakes than she had ever eaten in her entire life.

“Oh, I forgot to show you,” Rosemary moved between Sam and Kim, easily sliding between them as she held a picture out, “See anyone familiar?” She asked, her smile reaching from ear to ear. Kim felt like her relationship with Rosemary had shifted in a good way since this afternoon. She no longer felt quite as awkward, or as guilty for what she’d said.

Kim peered at the picture, noticing an array of tiny bodies. She scanned the photo, quickly finding herself. Even as a toddler, she towered over the rest of her peers, “That’s me.” She pointed out, looking at how one side of her pigtails was lopsided and uneven. She was beaming, showing off her missing front tooth and her side dimples.

“Uh huh,” Rosemary nodded before she pointed towards the front row, “That’s Billy. You both went to the same preschool for a while.” She explained slowly, looking quite excited with her revelation. Kim felt her heart stop for a moment as she peered at the picture a little closer. He was indeed standing in the front row, a little shorter than the rest of their classmates. His hair was curly and a little messy, his cheeks red from how hard he was smiling. She felt her lips curling into a smile at how cute he looked.

“Oh wow,” Kim felt her heart fluttering inside of her chest, “I had no idea.” She said instead, making sure she watched how much she revealed to Rosemary. She felt slightly crazy to find out that her life had been intertwined with Billy’s for so long.

“We didn’t either for the longest time,” Rosemary started to explain, “I was going through photos a few years back and Sam spotted this.” Rosemary turned towards Sam, her smile bright and warm. Kim inhaled sharply as she turned to meet Sam’s eye, afraid of what he might see. He nodded his head softly, his lips curled into the warmest smile.

“That’s cool,” Kim breathed out softly, “Can I get a copy of it?” She asked a little hesitantly as she glanced down at the picture again. She wished it was something she could remember. She didn’t even remember going to preschool. She thought that at that point they were still living with her grandmother.

“Sure,” Rosemary smiled, taking Kim by surprise as she leaned forward and rested her chin on Kim’s shoulder. She curled up to her, looking over Kim’s shoulder at the picture again, “You know I met you a few times? I tried to convince your grandma to let me babysit you but she never would.” She said with a little laugh.

“Really?” Kim asked in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows together as she thought about it. She couldn’t really remember her grandma at all. Max had asked about her a few times, but Kim had nothing to offer. She hadn’t spoken to any of them since they’d moved out.

“Oh God I’ve never met a worse woman,” Rosemary admitted as she glanced towards Sam, “You were always so cute and bubbly. You were always hugging everyone.” She said with a hint of a smile again, like she was recalling the memory.

“She was probably cranky because of me,” Sam muttered underneath his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking fully committed to taking the blame, “Kim, you were always a snuggly baby. You used to sleep in our bed up until Max was born.” He smiled as he silently referenced how the girls shared a bed from then on.

“Sounds like her,” Max said from the other couch, “Can I see?” She asked curiously as she leaned forward. Kim nodded as she passed her the picture, gnawing on her bottom lip as excitement grew inside of her. She couldn’t wait to share it with Billy, to see what his reaction would be.

“I wanna put more pictures up of everyone,” Rosemary explained as she looked at the semi empty walls, “I just haven’t got around to it yet.” She said a second later. Max nodded her head as she passed the photo back to Kim, sending her a knowing look. Kim sent her a bashful smile back before she rested the picture on her lap.

Kim thought that it was sweet how Rosemary was trying to ensure that everyone was included in pictures and in decorating. It was different from the way Neil had treated them when they’d moved in together. Rosemary was actually keen on making sure that everyone felt like they were a family, like they all belonged.

“I think it looks nice,” Sam complimented as he ran his fingertips through Rosemary’s curly hair, “You did a good job decorating.” He told her honestly and Kim really agreed with his statement too. Susan never got to decorate much, it had been all about what Neil had wanted at the time. It was nice to be somewhere that actually seemed to be a home and well put together.

She felt a wave of sadness rush over her suddenly as she thought about Susan. She wondered how she was holding up, if she was thinking about them or not. She wished that Susan would’ve had the chance to be happy, that she could’ve had a switch in her life like Rosemary clearly had after Neil.

Everything fell silent after the door slammed shut behind him. Billy froze, looking like he hadn’t expected everyone to be up at this time. Kim slid forward a little bit, observing him quickly to make sure he was okay.

“Can we talk?”

#Dancing in the Dark #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove stepcest #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest #billy hargrove x original character #stepcest

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tortugatalks · 1 year

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𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲-𝗟𝗶𝘁 𝗗𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗞 𝗩𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀|ᴴᶜˢ

a.n. wine and dine? wine and dine! paisley paver and rex will be exempt from these hcs ahahem... i have yet to fully watch their eps, but they'll be here soon! trust 🤝

𓆉 gender neutral reader

𓆉 established romantic relationship

𓆉 no warnings!

Zach Varmitech

━ wild rats, wild varmints—ugh! it's enough to drive any evil genius insane! what better way to rid yourself of these burdens than to have a nice candle-lit dinner with your love? and you know what...? that actually sounds like a feasible idea! that settles it. he'll call in his zachbots and have them prepare the table and food for you and him. up in the city sky within his skyscraper, that's where! this is a night truly well deserved after all. your host? him of course!

━ type of guy that thinks he has it all planned out, but in execution? mmm, perhaps not. ever seen those really long tables in the movies? where two people sit opposite of one another and there's this entire space left in between? yeah, you both will be seated at one of those. it looks formidable and exquisite, sure, but when you two actually talk to each other? mans is just yelling out 'WHAT?'s whenever you speak and it's really not that efficient. he ultimately, and rather begrudgingly, has a zachbot seat you closer to him. does it kill the vibe? for him, probably, but for you? not so much!

━ his zachbots will be your waiters for tonight ooh la la, but like, c'mon, they're not entirely the best at double meanings and social cues. can't read the room! you'll have zach call them over to "fetch" him a bottle of wine and the bots take it a little too literally. it's chaos, but honestly? you'd be lying if you said you weren't having the time of your life.

━ little romantic moments with the self proclaimed genius inventor are few and far between, but in this moment, he likes to indulge in the fact that he's the one in control. no distractions, no green boy or blue boy to be seen; just you two. tries to be sauvé, and it works out for him at the start, but there's bound to be a few slip ups here and there. i.e. when he mistakenly initiates a flower protocol that instantly has his bots waltzing in with bouquets. they're decorated in pretty black wraps and ribbons, and for a second his face is crimson. he panics and yells that now wasn't the time and he tries ever so hard to get you to think that the flowers that just so happened to be your favorites "weren't" for you.

Donita Donata

━ she's worked terribly hard. fashion designing, evil schemes, organizing runway shows; it's an exhaustion that has her extremely burned out! so... why not plan a dinner date just for her? yes!! tell her about it and there's already sparkles in her eyes. she talks a lot about the kind of scented candles you'll have, the luxury wine, the appetizers—oh, she just has to call in dabio! and it must be in her glamorous mansion too! she gets so into it and completely forgets that you were the one who was supposed to be planning the night, but oh well!

━ dresses up nicely in luxurious clothes she knows you'll like! she's quick to put together something for you too, and without a doubt, its definitely matching. even dabio gets his own little fancy suit! (he'll be your lovely waiter for the night, of course!)

━ all lights are dimmed to a light pink once the clock strikes night time. if you're to pull out her chair and get her cozy in her seat, she'll let out a low but a loving hum. consider her impressed! bonus points if you compliment her, but c'mon, she already knows she owns the look! through it all, the mood is relaxing. conversations consist of casual flirtatious comments, plans for the future and so on and so forth. loves maintaining eye contact with you, so when you speak, you'll typically see her resting her chin on the palm of her hand with her elbow resting on the table, eyes trained on your face. if you're one to fluster easily, she'll have herself a fond laugh <3

━ would absolutely love to slow dance with you. stand up from your seat, offer her your hand and she'll be pleasantly surprised! she'll rock with you in your arms and give you tiny squeezes here and there. she loves toeing with the line of propriety and can be a bit of a tease every now and then!

Dabio

━ the sweetest ever! he hardly has any time for himself considering that he's always assisting donita with her fashion work. you gotta convince her to lay him off work for a bit, if just for one day! much to your surprise, she gives in to your wishes. just one day, though, but that's all you need before you're off planning a relaxing homemade date night for the both of you. tell dabio about it and he's just as happy, if not more than you! very excited and can't wait to spend the evening with you. he insists that he helps you cook, and you just can't say no to him <3

━ the dinner date isn't as fancy as the former two, but it holds a lot of love. despite not being on the job, dabio is ever the gentleman! he's fully decked out in the clothes donita made for him, he pulls out your chair for you, gifts you flowers, compliments you—the works! but of course, the dinner date is meant for him as much as he treats it like it's for you. if you happen to have a gift for him, he'll be on cloud nine! rest assured, whatever it is, he'll cherish it forever (or for as much as he possibly can!)

━ dinner talk is filled to the brim with laughter and conversations about practically anything you two can think of! he, however, loves to listen to you talk. whether it's about your day or your interests, dabio patiently and intently listens to everything you have to say while he eats and chimes in with a few comments of his own.

━ serve him some wine or offer to get up and get him a second serving and this guy has got hearts in his eyes! he absolutely adores your kindness and is very much appreciative, but don't think for a second that he won't do the same for you. he treats you like royalty and c'mon, to him it's only fair!

Gaston Gourmand

━ prepare to have yourself the most delicious and exquisite dinner you've ever had. having a dinner date was his idea and he takes it as an opportunity to woo you with his killer culinary skills and romantic gestures. the location he chooses isn't the most grandiose, but it's sweet with you in mind. he opts to dine somewhere familiar: out in the open (preferably next to a lake or river) in the foldout cafe area of his camper—string lights galore! surprise, surprise, he doesn't tell you what he has planned, but you know he's up to something with the way his tone dances as he speaks. all he does manage to tell you is for you to dress in comfortable clothes come night time! doesn't have to be anything particularly fancy—you'll look great in anything!

━ doesn't take long before he gets started on the cooking. everything will be made a la gourmand! he would like for you to feast on a rare dish, but it seems that whenever he does try to go and hunt something, green grape and blueberry are always there. he mulls over the thought a bit and ultimately decides that he doesn't want to go through all that for tonight at all. besides, he has exceptional cooking skills! whatever he makes will be jaw dropping and drool inducing either way.

━ very cheesy in execution. he does that thing where he covers your eyes with his hands as he leads you to his makeshift café. he pays close attention to your reactions and his heart swells with pride once you catch a whiff of a dish that smells particularly tasty! once he takes his hands off your face, he puffs out his chest with every compliment you throw at him. he may not look the part, but gourmand is determined to impress you!

━ as your dearly devoted partner, he takes full responsibility in serving you and making you feel content through and through. doesn't expect you to eat all proper, rather, he enjoys seeing you scarf down your dinner plate. he loves to talk big, his ego blinding, but he does like hearing you talk. he lets you get your own way in everything you do, not expecting anything other than the same from you in return <3

#wild kratts x reader #zach varmitech x reader #donita donata x reader #dabio x reader #gaston gourmand x reader

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kunabee · 2 months

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What are five (5) things that make you happy?

Number one is definitely my cat, Cinnamon.

[Image ID: Two images of a tortoisheshell cat laying on a trans flag on top of a bed]

(Cinnamon says trans rights)

Two would be... making something new. Writing a good scene in a story. Successfully cosing or programming a thing. Something like that.

Three would be my polycule. All good people. Is... very happy.

A fourth thing... my other cat and my dog! Yuki and Tristan are very good animals.

[Image ID: The first image is of a laughing blonde woman with a white dog laying partially on her lap and partially on the armrest of her chair; he is too big to be doing this comfortable. The second image is of a tortoiseshell cat and an orange tabby cat laying next to each other on a blue paisley quilt.]

Tristan is the white doggo, Yuki is orange. Tristan is sitting with my mom.

And the fifth thing that makes me happy... poetry. I love reading it and I love writing it. Tumblr's own @inkskinned is probably one of my favorite modern poets, and Emily Dickenson is my favorite classical poet.

Thank you for asking :)

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chickensarentcheap · 1 year

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Lost and Found -Chapter 13

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @thesirenrealm @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @karimac @starryeyes2000 @timbradfordsboot @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @arrthurpendragon

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/120781585

My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

******

“Which one is your favourite?” Millie inquires, as they sit side by side in a corner booth; tucked away from the breakfast rush that’s invaded The Continental’s dining area. “Pancakes, waffles, or French Toast?”

Tyler rifles through the plastic container of crayons open in front of him, selecting a blue and a red, then returning to the sheet of paper spread across the table. “Pancakes.”

“Me too! With lots of butter and syrup! But sometimes, I’ll put strawberry jam on them. Have you ever had that? It’s delish.”

“I haven’t. Guess it’s something I’ll have to try.”

“Maybe when we’re at your house, we can make pancakes together. Momma and I do that every Sunday morning. I get to stand on a chair and help. Mom ALWAYS lets me stir the batter. But the pancakes are never very good ‘cause she isn’t the best cook in the world and…”

“Hey!” Esme objects, and reaches across the table to playfully tug on one of her daughter’s pigtails. “I am sitting right here.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I love you. Bunches. But you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’ve somehow managed to keep you alive for four years, haven’t I? My food can’t be THAT bad.”

“I mean, it’s not horrible. But it’s not great either. I can STILL eat it. Just sometimes I have to pretend it tastes like something else. So I CAN get it down.”

“You’re a savage, you know that.”

“I woke up today and chose violence.”

“How about choosing NOT to throw me under the bus?”

“You always tell me that honesty is the best policy. And I was just being honest, so…” She sips at her chocolate milk and then addresses Tyler once more. “Momma is a really awesome baker though! She always makes my birthday cakes and sends cupcakes or cake pops to school with me so my class can have some goodies too! She bakes all kinds of awesome stuff. Brownies and cookies and pies. And these really yummy things made with mushed-up frosted flakes and chocolate and marshmallows. She even sells her stuff sometimes. At the market near our old place.”

“We used to live in Queens,” Esme explains, when Tyler looks to her for clarification. “We had an apartment there. A walk up in an old brownstone. There’s a little pop-up market every Saturday. I would spend the better part of a week baking and then Millie and I would go to the market on the weekend and make some money. We don’t do it as much anymore now that we live…LIVED…in Manhattan.”

“It was a lot of fun! I loved going to the market,” Millie says. “‘Cause when momma sold all her stuff, we’d walk around and she’d buy me all kinds of goodies that other people were selling. Treaties and stuff. This was this lady there that made dresses and hats and even dolls. She made me Posie for my third birthday. See…” Reaching, for the doll that rests between her and the wall, the four-year-old proudly places it on the tabletop. A Holly Hobby inspired creation; sandy blond hair made from yarn, a purple and pink paisley dress and matching hat, and pink vinyl shoes.. “...this is Posie. Momma had her made to look just like me.”

Tyler shows the doll his full attention; Millie anxiously awaiting his admiration and praise. “She’s beautiful. Just like you. Pink and purple are your favourite colours?”

“They’re my top two. But I like other colours, too. Blue and green and orange. And camo. I know that’s not a colour, but I really like it. Especially the one that makes you look like GI Joe.”

“You know who GI Joe is?”

“Yup. I have a whole box full of them! Momma got them at the secondhand place.” Her smile diminishes and her eyes darken; lips forming a pout. “But they didn’t get brought with us. When we had to leave the house. I wish we could go and get them. And some of my other stuff. Auntie Nik says we can’t; ‘cause the bad guys will find us there. But I really miss my stuff.”

“Maybe we can get Uncle Yaz to go and get some of your stuff,” Esme suggests. “He can take a couple of people with him to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. But we can’t bring EVERYTHING, baby. I wish we could.”

“And if we can’t bring it, we’ll get it for you,” Tyler adds. “When we get wherever we’re going. Maybe you can make a list? Of all the stuff you miss and you really want? Can you do that for me? Because I don’t know much about little girls and what they like.”

“I can do that. I like all kinds of stuff. Girl stuff, boy stuff. Momma says I can play with whatever toys I want and that it’s stupid that society puts labels on things like toys and clothes.”

“Your mum’s a very smart lady.”

“Momma always says that I’m the Millie I’m supposed to be. That the things I like and make me happy are part of me. Part of my personality. And no one should take those away from me.”

“No. They shouldn’t.”

“And she says to never let anyone dull my sparkle, right mom?”

“I don’t think anyone ever could, sweet pea. You’ve got way too much sparkle for anyone to take away. And if they tried and I caught them doing it…”

“You’d punch them in the face!”

“Well I might not resort to violence, but…”

“Alessio? That guy momma was gonna marry? He always complained about my sparkle. He didn’t call it THAT, but he always bitched and moaned about my clothes and how loud I am and how much I love to sing and dance. And you know what he did one day? He threw out my shoes! My favourite ones!”

“She’s been wearing those same Spiderman sandals since she was almost three,” Esme tells Tyler. “I always buy a couple pairs at a time; one a bit bigger for when she sizes up.”

“I LOVE these shoes!” Millie enthuses. “They’re comfy and they’re cute and they light up. Alessio didn’t like them. He said they were for boys! But momma told him it didn’t matter. That girls love superheroes too! And I can wear whatever I want! And you know what he did? The big, fat jerk! He waited until momma and I were asleep and he threw my shoes out! I couldn’t find them in the morning and I was really sad! I cried. A lot. They were my favourite. They fit just right.”

Esme reaches for one of the carafes in the middle of the table, pouring herself a second cup of tea. “And what happened next? When momma found out what Alessio did?”

“You went and bought me two new pairs. And told Alessio to never pull that kind of shit ever again!”

Tyler grins. Esme’s never been afraid to speak her mind; never threatened or intimidated no matter how big and bad her opponent is. He’d learned that the hard way; finding himself the target of her ire in Dhaka. When he’d had the nerve to ‘pull rank’ and ‘man-splain’. “Your mumma takes good care of you, huh?”

“ She doesn’t let anyone mess with me. And if they try? She gets really mad. And she doesn’t back down. She’s little, but I bet she could kick some serious ass!”

“Oh, I know she could. I’ve seen it. What she gets like when she’s angry. Or she’s trying to protect the people she loves. She’s a good mumma?”

“Best mumma ever! We do a lot of cool stuff together. We go for manis and pedis, we go to the library to look for books and play in the kids’ section. We go to museums and the movies. And you know what my favourite thing is? When we go to Central Park. We always take a picnic. And we sit by the fountain and go for a walk and go and feed the ducks. That’s the best part. I love the ducks. Do you have ducks in Australia?”

“We do. We even have some rare ones you can’t find anywhere else in the world.”

“Do you think maybe you could take me to see them? If we go to your house? I’d really like to see the ducks. And feed them. Do you think we could?”

“I think we could arrange something, yeah. And we can go to the zoo. Feed some joeys, see some koalas. Maybe hold one. I don’t think your mumma would mind. If we did stuff like that.”

“Can we, mumma? Please? Can we go to the zoo? I want to feed the joeys and hold a koala! Can we go there?”

“I definitely think we could do that.” Esme returns Tyler’s smile from across the table, and then briefly and inconspicuously lays her hand on top of his. Giving it a light, loving squeeze before she runs her nails along the length of his fingers.

She enjoys this quiet, unassuming closeness. An intimacy that’s pure and beautiful and reserved solely for each other. The glances exchanged, their feet touching under the table, their hands in close enough proximity to each other they often come in contact. It’s the honeymoon stage; that blissful, relaxed contentment that comes with getting to know someone and falling head over heels in love. But there’s an extra layer to their story; two people who had found acceptance and solace in one another during the most difficult and stressful of times and somehow survived the unimaginable. Dhaka had created a powerful bond between them; one that not even The High Table had managed to erase. Now they’ve started down a new path; friends and lovers who managed to find their way back to each other. And are now caught up in a whirlwind of rediscovery.

When the waitress departs after refilling drinks and taking orders, Millie and Tyler fall into a companionable silence; both concentrating on their ‘masterpieces’. It’s quite the juxtaposition compared to their surroundings and the original reason for his visit to New York; surrounded by men and women engrossed in the criminal world yet somehow managing to create this comfortable, happy space. This powerful and intimidating man with his scars and tattoos and his demons devoting his full attention to the little girl beside him; Millie occasionally glancing at him with a mixture of fascination and pure, unadulterated affection. A connection established since the moment they’d laid eyes on each other the day before; Tyler shocked and overwhelmed by the news that he was a father again and Millie awed and intrigued by the ‘giant’ that loomed over her. And she’s become incredibly attached to him in such a short period of time; putting all of her faith and trust into him and believing his promise to keep her and momma safe from the bad guys.

In return, he’s indulged every one of her whims since that initial hug only forty minutes ago. One of those enormous, strong hands swallowing her much tinier, fragile one when she reached for him; chattering away as she skipped happily alongside him as they headed for the elevator. Immediately obliging when she asked to be carried on his shoulders; giggling as she was lifted high into the air and then wrapping both arms around his neck and resting her chin on the top of his head. And he didn’t blink an eye when she abandoned her original seat at the booth in favour of climbing up next to him. Joining her in drawing and colouring and patiently answering all of her questions about Australia, allowing her to creep closer and closer to him until she eventually settled upon his thigh.

Millie is currently perched upon her knees with both arms wrapped around one of his biceps; quietly and intently watching the drawing that he works so diligently on. Those big hands with all their scars and calluses and misshapen knuckles and their ability to take a life creating something beautiful and ‘just for her’. It’s a side of him even Esme has never seen before; a loving and devoted father that willingly ignores societal norms in order to make his little one happy.

She had seen the potential inside of him during those five days in Dhaka; the seemingly fearless mercenary lowering his guard and showing her all his broken and aching parts. A grief-stricken and guilt laden man; willingly putting his own life on the line to save others not because of the money involved, but as repentance for the mistakes he’d made. There’d been a gentleness to him that she’d never experienced with another man. The way he’d cradle her face in his palms when he kissed her, that slow, adoring way his eyes would search every inch of her face. the tenderness in his fingertips when he’d smooth hair away from her cheeks and tuck loose strands behind her ears. There were layers to him that he’d never allowed another to explore; instead choosing to hide behind all of his rough and tattered edges and his strong, intimidating physique. But he’d granted her access to even the deepest and darkest of places; spilling secrets and regrets and allowing himself to be vulnerable. He hadn’t been a horrible husband or father by any stretch of the imagination. What he had been was damaged and traumatized; a lifetime of nightmarish circumstances that had made it impossible for him to deal with the reality of his son’s illness and impending death.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” she had said, when he’d asked her why she was being so kind. So understanding. Why didn’t she see him as the monster that everyone painted him as? He killed people for a living, after all. He’d abandoned his child when he’d needed his father the most. How could she NOT look at him with pure and utter disgust?

*****

She watches him with that second chance now; nursing a cup of tea as she muses on how alike father and daughter truly are. The exact same colour and texture of hair, the long limbs and impossibly big hands and feet, those brilliant blue eyes that can grow so dark and stormy when frustration or anger settle in. And how, while dedicated to a task, those eyes narrow; intently focused with their lips slightly parted and their brows furrowed.

“You are soooo good!” Millie gushes, as she peers down at the paper. “I want to draw like that! I’m alright at it, but I’m not great or anything.”

“You’re only four. You have lots of time to get better at it.”

“You don’t look like the type that would be an artist.”

“No? What type do I look like?”

“The type that kicks serious, big time ass!”

“Well, I do THAT too. I do lots of things, actually. I have lots of different skills.” A grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he shoots Esme a wink. “Just ask your mum.”

Eyes widening, Esme directs a kick to his shin.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Millie inquires, oblivious to the behaviour of the others at the table. “I don’t understand how you and momma met. How you became friends. If momma was living here and you were living in Australia, how’d you even meet?”

“Tyler and I were both working for Auntie Nik,” Esme explains, flashing the waitress an appreciative smile as she replaces empty carafes with full, fresh ones. “And she needed us to help her find someone.”

“Where’d you have to find them?”

“Somewhere far away. In a place called Bangladesh.”

“Where’s that?”

“Far, far away. On the other side of the world.”

“Was it a boy or girl?”

“A boy.” Tyler reaches for his coffee. “A teenager.”

“What was his name?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“You have to set the scene. I need to know details.”

“His name was Ovi.” Esme begins tidying the table; dropping crayons back into their carrying case; a retro metal Transformers lunch box Millie had spied in a second-hand store and just had to have.

“Why did he need to be found, momma? What happened to him?”

“Some bad people took him. And didn’t want to give him back unless they were paid a lot of money.”

“Why did the bad people take him?”

“Because his dad was a bad person, too. And they wanted to cause trouble with him.”

“But WHY? Just to be mean?”

“It’s a long story. And not one for little ears. They took Ovi because they wanted to hurt his dad. Who was just as bad of a person as they were. And when no one could find where Ovi was, Auntie Nik got called into things.”

“And she asked you and Tyler to help? Why you guys?”

“Because I find people. I go places and ask all kinds of questions and track them down. And then I give guys like Tyler that information and he goes and rescues them. Remember what I told you? About teamwork?”

‘Teamwork is dream work!”

“Exactly. And because these people were so bad, I needed to have someone keep an eye on me. So I wouldn’t get hurt.”

Completely invested and desperate for more information, Millie lifts up Tyler’s arm and slips under it. Climbing into his lap, she places a hand on his cheek and turns his face towards her. “You were momma’s bodyguard then too?”

“I was. And you know what? It was the hardest job I’ve ever had. Because your mum? She is stubborn as hell. She refused to listen to a word I said. I almost told her to find her own way home and left her there.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t listen to you,” Esme argues. “I just thought you thought what you were saying was…how do I put this gently…stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“That and I was in my ‘I won’t let any man tell me what to do’ stage,” she chides, and shoots him a playful wink. “You weren’t getting away with it. And it didn’t matter how hot you were.”

“Were? Past tense? WERE? First, you call me fat and now you’re saying I’m ugly?”

“Momma!” Millie gasps in horror. “You called Tyler fat?! That’s not nice. You’re not supposed to say things like that about people! I mean, I know he’s a little chubby, but…”

“Chubby?” He lightly pinches the four-year-old’s sides. “Whose side are you on anyway? Calling me chubby.”

“I’m on your side! I am! I really am! But…”

Millie squeals when he tickles her and then dissolves into hysterics; eyes closing and her entire body arching against him when his fingers dig lightly into her stomach. Her laughter travelling throughout the restaurant and drawing attention; a handful of disapproving frowns and whispers mixed in with amused eyes and broad smiles. The first child to ever need protection within The Continental’s walls, many of the staff and clientele remember her as an infant; watching that blue-eyed, chubby-cheeked little girl go from a newborn in her mother’s arms to a baby just weeks shy of her first birthday. When the dust had cleared and it was safe to finally leave, they’d moved to Queens; into a quaint and cozy two-bedroom apartment that Nik had furnished and paid the first year's rent on. After that, they’d had no reason to return to The Continental. Extra money earned doing intel work from home while Esme devoted everything she had to raising her daughter and making sure she was loved and provided for.

She’d spent years longing to be a mother, and Mark’s abuse and the eventual disintegration of her marriage had left her incredibly jaded and wary of ever trusting a man again. She had tried to convince herself that perhaps it was just the way things were meant to be; she wasn’t destined to have a child and instead would throw herself into her work and find contentment and fulfilment in the few friendships she managed to maintain. Yet there’d always been an emptiness and a longing she couldn’t quite explain; a need for a different life in a different place, surrounded by different people. And she’d been so close to breaking free. Setting a firm ‘six-month exit strategy’; giving it half a year before moving to Scotland and living with a long-lost cousin until she was able to get on her feet.

And then Nik had called, offering her the Dhaka job.

It had been too good to resist. A massive payday and an assurance from Nik that once it was over, she was officially ‘off the books’. There’d be no paper trail of her ever connected to Nik’s business; staying in touch as ‘friends only’ and perhaps offering the occasional consultation over the phone or through a video chat. She was looking forward to no longer being part of that world; using the money she was paid to travel the globe and create experiences and memories before settling down in Scotland. Perhaps once there she’d ‘find herself’; discover a new profession that would give her the same feeling of accomplishment. It had been illegal and dishonest work, but it HAD come with one major benefit; able to dole out karma and see those who deserved it meet their often bloody and brutal demise.

She never did get to travel.

Instead, her entire life changed the second she walked into the rundown shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

“I gotta chubby tummy too!” Millie announces, as she once more settles herself on Tyler’s lap and then pulls up the bottom of her t-shirt. “I also have an outtie! See!”

Grinning, Esme lifts her mug to her lips. “She’s very proud of her belly button. She had an umbilical hernia when she was a baby and had to have surgery for it. When she was still a wee little thing. That’s her souvenir from it.”

“All my friends are jealous! None of them have outties. I tell them that I’m special. Like a unicorn. ‘Cause I got something different.”

“You are,” Esme agrees, and reaches across the table to sweep Millie’s bangs from her forehead. “You are very, very, VERY special. More than you will ever know.”

She desperately wants to add: “And your daddy and I love you so very much” but manages to hold it back. It’s way too soon; only twenty-four hours since Tyler had discovered Millie’s existence and less than three days since the four-year-old’s entire world had been turned upside down. While full of smiles and giggles and hilarious chatter throughout the day, the trauma comes out to play at night. Plagued by uncharacteristic, aggressive meltdowns before bed and a newfound fear of the dark, reverting back to sucking her thumb as a form of comforting and self-soothing, and suffering from horrible nightmares that tear her from rest and cause her to vomit and wet the bed. She’s been through way too much for such a little thing; hearing and seeing things that not even adults should be subjected to. With no way of telling what another huge event would do to her, it’s best to keep Tyler’s true identity a secret for now. At least until the aftereffects of four nights ago begin to weaken.

It hurts to have to keep lying. For four years she’s kept Millie’s existence a secret out of pure selfishness and stupidity; afraid of rejection and unable to handle the mere thought…never mind the sight… of him being with anyone else. Choosing instead to remain hidden and off the grid; convincing herself that she’d only ruin his life if she was to suddenly resurface with a child in tow. Deep down she was aware of just how wrong she was; even hurt and angry, Tyler would never turn away his daughter. Even if they couldn’t get along, he would still want to be in Millie’s life. He’d want to be present and active and have a say and a helping hand in how she was raised. While Esme had told herself that staying silent was better for everyone involved, the truth was that it was only better for her. A way of protecting her heart.

She knows it stings. Whenever Millie calls him by his first name. She can see that little wince that captures his mouth and the pain that darkens his eyes. He’s already missed so much of her life and not being seen and known as ‘dad’ only adds insult to injury. But she also knows that no matter how pained he may be and how desperate he is for the truth to be known, he’d never do anything to hurt Millie or jeopardize her well-being.

Even if it means putting his on the back burner.

It’s a beautiful thing to witness. That big, strapping man already so attentive and adoring. Protective. All that faith she had and all that potential she saw five years ago now playing out before her eyes. The infinite amount of patience that he possesses; allowing Millie to ask a seemingly endless string of questions involving how he met her mother, what it’s like living in Australia, and if she’ll get eaten by a shark if they go to the beach. Always having the perfect answers for her; ones that light up her eyes and make her giggle and feel completely safe and content in his presence. Not blinking an eye when tiny fingers explore the calluses on his palms and his long busted up knuckles; staying away from any talk about the job and telling tales instead of sports injuries and incidents while rock climbing or hiking or surfing. And not appearing bothered when she inquires about his collection of scars; sparing her the more horrific details and only alluding to mishaps while with the military and while fighting ‘bad guys'.``

“Momma,” Millie leans across the table and lightly taps a hand against Esme’s cheek. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what, sweet pea?”

“Looking like you’re gonna cry. What’s wrong? Why tears? Why are you sad?”

“I’m not sad,” Esme promises, then leans forward and rests a hand on the back of the four-year-old’s head. Giving her a reassuring smile before pressing a kiss to her brow. “I’m happy. So very, very, VERY happy.”

****

They find Nik and Abuela waiting outside the suite door when they return; the latter anxiously pacing the thick, plush carpet. And it’s Nik that approaches them; her brow furrowed and lips set in a thin, stern line.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Tyler frowns. “I don’t like hearing that.”

“I don’t like saying it.”

“How big is this problem?”

“I’d say about six one, two hundred pounds. Alessio is here.”

“How the hell did he get in here? I thought this place was secure. I thought one of the rules was that no one could come and cause shit. Conduct business under their roof.”

“He says he’s not here to cause problems. Or do any business. He just wants to talk. With Esme.”

“Tell him to go away,” Millie pipes up from her perch upon Tyler’s shoulders. “Momma is off limits! Tell him that, Auntie Nik. Tell that asshole to f…”

“Amelia…” Esme gently scolds, then turns to Nik. “Talk about what? I think everything that happened last night spoke for itself. His family broke into my house and tried to kill me. And Millie. A little kid. If he thinks I have anything to say…”

“He’s a dickhead!” Millie declares. “Tell him momma has a new boyfriend. Who is really big and strong and will rip his head off and shove it up his…”

“Let me take her,” Abuela suggests, and moves towards Tyler. “We can go and hide in her room and watch a movie or we can make crafts. Maybe go downstairs for a swim. Or we can…”

“No!” The four-year-old protests, wrapping her legs tightly around Tyler’s neck and her arms around his head when the ‘nanny’ reaches for her. “I don’t want to go in there! I don’t want to see him!”

“He’s not going to leave,” Nik addresses Tyler and Esme. “He’s pretty adamant about that. And it’s not like we can force him. If we even put our hands on him, we’ll be leaving this place in body bags. And he knows that. He knows we can’t do a damn thing.”

Tyler sighs. “I mean, one bright spot is neither can he. He goes against the High Table rules and he knows he’s fucked. Not even his family and their connections can save him from them. But wanting to talk to Esme? About what?”

“About what went down the other night I guess. He feels that he’d owed an explanation. That he put eight months into the relationship and everything turned out to be a complete lie. He’s pissed. Hurt. I guess he has a lot to vent about.”

“Tell him to go to a fucking therapist. Esme doesn’t owe him a damn thing. His family tried to KILL HER. No amount of talking is going to change that.”

“What harm is there in hearing him out? If he won’t leave and we can’t make him leave…”

“I don’t wanna go in there,” Millie sobs. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t like him. He’s mean. Don’t make me go in there. Don’t…”

Gently prying her arms apart and untangling her legs from around his neck, Tyler reaches up and carefully lifts the little one off his shoulders. Briefly settling her on his hip before placing her on the ground, then kneeling in front of her and cradling her face in his palms.

“Don’t cry.” He uses his thumbs to clear away the tears that sparkle upon her cheeks. “There’s no reason to cry. Everything is fine. You’re okay.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I know. I know he was mean to your mum. I bet he was mean to you sometimes too, yeah?”

“He threw out my shoes.”

“And that’s bad enough, right? There were other times, too? When he was mean to you?”

Millie nods. “He didn’t like me. He said I was too loud. That I talk too much. And make too much noise. That little kids need to be seen and not heard. He wanted momma to send me to a special school. Where kids stay over instead of coming home. But momma told him to go and ‘get fucked’. She always told him where to go. When he said mean things to me. She doesn’t let anyone hurt me.”

“That’s because she’s an awesome mumma. But he can’t hurt you. Not here. Not with me and Auntie Nik and Abuela here. You’ve got a lot of people that love you. Who will do anything to keep you safe. You trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“I need you to do me a favour. I need you to go inside with Abuela. I want you to do everything she says, okay? You go in your room and you watch a movie or you make some crafts or find something else to keep you busy. Just for a little while.”

“Just for a bit?”

“Just until I finish talking with your mum and Auntie Nik. Then I’ll come and get you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Maybe you can even do me up one of those bracelets. So I can add it to my collection. Maybe even make yourself and mumma some too. We can all match.”

“I’ll do yours in boy colours. So you don’t get teased. But you do promise, right? That you’ll come and get me?”

“As soon as I’m done out there. It won’t be long. I just need a chance to talk some things over.”

“What if he hurts momma?”

“No one is going to hurt your mum. I won’t let that happen. So can you do that for me? Go inside with Abuela? Just for a little bit. And then we’ll go and do something. Just the two of us. Is that alright? If we do something together? Are you okay with that?”

“Just us?”

“Just us. If you’re comfortable with just me. If you’d rather mumma tag along…”

“No. I’m okay with it. Just us. Maybe we can go swimming? They have a pool here. And it’s nice and warm. It’s not as fun as the beach, but…”

“You put your bathing suit on when you’re inside and I’ll take you down to the pool. Maybe we can go and get ice cream after. If my chubby tummy can handle it.”

She finally manages a smile, then sniffles noisily and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Mint chocolate chip?”

“Of course. It’s our favourite. There’s no other kind. So you can do all of that for me? I know how strong you are. How brave. You get that from your mum. She is the strongest person I have EVER known. And you come from her, so…”

“Even stronger than you?”

“MUCH stronger than me. Go inside, okay?” Giving her a reassuring hug, he drops a kiss on the top of her head and then reaches for not only the doll and koala bear Esme holds, but the backpack slung over her shoulder. “Take your stuff with you. So you got your beads and what not if you want to make those bracelets.”

Helping Millie shrug into the backpack, he tucks the doll under one arm, the bear under the other, running a hand over the top of her head before Abuela lays a hand on Millie’s shoulder and gently leads her towards the door. Hesitating on the threshold, Millie glances over her shoulder at Tyler. Tears sparkling in her eyes, as her chin trembles and she tries to remain as stoic as possible.

“You promise, Tyler? You promise you’ll come and get me?”

He struggles with his own emotion; a potent cocktail of rage and heartache to know that someone has mistreated her. It’s only been twenty-four years but the love and the pride he feels towards her is all-consuming; this beautiful, healthy little girl that’s a mixture of himself and the love of his life. It’s surreal; the realization that he is indeed a father again. And while it isn’t the time to jump fully into that role, he can give Millie what she so desperately needs at the present; a sense of safety and security and someone she can trust to protect her. At all costs.

“I promise. I’ll be there in a little bit, okay?”

Nodding, she gives a wiggle of her fingertips in a departing wave and then allows Abuela to lead her into the suite.

****

They stand in silence; waiting to hear if anything goes wrong within the hotel room. And it’s Tyler that speaks first; attempting to push away the anger and animosity he feels towards his old friend and colleague. It’s hard to be civil in the face of Nik’s betrayal; the painful truth that she’d kept Esme’s whereabouts and Millie’s existence a secret. But he reminds himself that it isn’t the time for personal quarrels; Alessio’s appearance bringing the job back to the forefront.

“How’d he get in here Nik? You told me this place was safe. That no one could get to them here.”

“Winston let him.”

“Of fucking course he did.”

“But why would he do that?” Esme inquires. “He’s the one that gave us somewhere to hide out. Why would he just let Alessio walk in, never mind get THIS close?”

“I think it’s personal,” Nik replies. “I know there’s no love lost between him and Tyler and…”

Tyler scowls. “He told you?”

“Told her what?” Esme’s eyes narrow in confusion as she glances back and forth between the two. “What did Winston tell her? What’s going on? What…?”

“Winston and I had a little disagreement. “About…?”

“About what we think is best for you. And Millie. We weren’t exactly on the same page.”

“And what DO you guys think is best for us?”

“I told him that I thought bringing both of you to Australia, getting settled, and starting a life there would be in your best interests. He disagreed. Thought it was better that I brought you back here. To New York City. So he could keep an eye on you.”

“Keep an eye on me? I don’t need him…of all people…keeping an eye on me. Once I’m out of here I am NOT coming back. Ever. If I never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”

“He seems to have it in his head that you can’t survive without him,” Nik explains. “That you’re better off here…under his roof…than anywhere else.”

“I hope you told him to go and get fucked. Because that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’m grateful for everything he’s done, but this is the last place I want to be. Kept like some prisoner. That’s not much of a life. For either of us. But especially for Millie.”

“I think he has some weird-ass obsession with you,” Tyler adds. “That goes way beyond the father-daughter bullshit that he spews all the time.”

Nik smirks. “You THINK? It’s not obvious?”

“That is just…” Esme’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “....ewwww. I’ve never gotten that kind of vibe from him. He’s always respected my boundaries and never tried anything. I would have kicked him in the nuts if he did. Did he actually admit to all of this? That he’s got some creepy hopeful sugar daddy going on?”

“Not in so many words, but…”

Nik pipes up. “When he offers to double someone’s payout so they’ll bring you back here and walk out of your life, it’s safe to say there’s nothing normal about how he feels about you.”

“Wait…what? He did WHAT?”

Tyler glares at his old friend. “You did NOT need to tell her that.”

“I assumed she knew. That you already would have told her.”

“I didn’t tell her because I didn’t think she needed to know that part. What good does it do? She’s got enough going on. Add Winston and his bullshit to the list…”

“He offered you money?” Esme struggles to digest the information. “ To bring us back to The Continental and leave us here? Is that what went on? Is that why he showed up here? THAT’S what he wanted to talk to you about? He wanted to pay you off?”

Nik sighs, then addresses Tyler. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause issues. I thought she knew. That you would have told her.”

“What did you say to him?” Esme inquiries, as she moves closer to him; suddenly needing the comfort that his much stronger, heavier body can provide her with. He’s always been her protector; ready, willing, and able to do whatever he had to do in order to keep her safe.

“What do you think I said? I told him to take his money and shove it up his ass. There’s no ‘deal’ to be made. You and Millie? You two aren’t up for negotiation. And I let him know that. That I’m getting you two the fuck out of here and I’m not bringing you back. I don’t care how much money he throws at me.”

“This is just…” Esme pushes both hands through her hair. “...I honestly can’t believe he’d do that. I already told him; once we’re out of here, we aren’t coming back. We’re going on with our lives. I told him that we already talked about all of this. That Millie and I were going to make a life in Australia. With YOU. Whether it’s under the same roof or starting out in separate places. I made it very clear that it wasn’t up for debate.”

“He seems to think it is. He’s got it in his head that I’m some piece of shit that would abandon you and Millie. That I’m some enormous fuck up that’s going to ruin your lives.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth. You’re none of those things. And I told him all of that. I told him that we were going to be a family. Or at least try being one. That we were going to work through our shit. Get past everything that’s happened. Have a good life together. Give Millie a mom AND a dad. I made it pretty clear that it was my life and my decision.”

“He obviously didn’t listen. Because he’s pretty convinced you’re better off here. That this is the only place you can have a good life.”

“He’s full of shit. And if he thinks I’d EVER think of him in THAT way…”

“I know I opened up a huge can of worms and you two have a lot to talk about,” Nik speaks up. “ But I think we need to refocus. Get back to what’s going on right now. Because whether we like it or not, Alessio IS here. He’s got no intention of leaving until he gets what he wants. And seeing as we can’t force him to leave and we can’t toss him out…”

“What choice do I really have? If he’s not going to leave…”

“I don’t want you alone with him,” Tyler says. “I don’t trust him. If he and Winston are that buddy-buddy, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be allowed to break High Table rules. That Winston wouldn’t look the other way.”

“I’ll stay,” Nik offers. “I’ll hang out in another room and keep my ears open. If I even hear things starting to go south…”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Esme assures them. “Yeah, he’s an asshole in many ways, but putting his hands on women? That’s not his style.”

“His family tried to kill you,” Tyler reminds her. “And Millie. He’s got people just lying in wait outside. They will put a bullet in you the second you step out there.”

“Alessio isn’t like them. He’s nowhere near as committed to that life. And he’s not as loyal to the family as they think he is. He spent the last eight months spilling a lot of their secrets. He wasn’t shy about all the twisted and gory details.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t go to bat for them now. You’ve disgraced his family. Made him look like a complete fool. These people don’t take betrayal lightly.”

“You heard what Nik said, Tyler. He’s not going to leave. And as much as I know you want to just beat the living shit out of him…”

“I can’t just leave you with him. And I already told Millie…”

“I’ll be fine. Nik will be close by. She’s not going to let him do anything. I know you don’t exactly trust her right now, but I DO. She’s kept us safe and sound all these years. She can do it for another half an hour.”

“I know you’re pretty pissed at me right now, Tyler…” Nik begins.

‘That’s an understatement.”

“...but we need to shelve the personal shit. We can deal with all of that later. I know you have a lot to say to me and believe me, I’m going to let you have a chance to say it. But NOT right now. We have much bigger fish to fry. Not to mention less than forty-eight hours to figure out how the hell we’re all getting out of this city in one piece. So we can focus on what we’re really here for? The job?”

Sighing heavily, he briefly closes as he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “I need to talk to Esme.”

“Tyler, I…”

“Nik, there is a lot going on here. And believe it or not, not all of it involves you. I need to talk to her. ALONE.”

She accepts defeat; holding her hands up in surrender and then heads for the door and disappears inside. Tyler waits. Giving Nik a chance to clear the foyer and head further into the suite before he turns to Esme; watching as she chews on her bottom lip and nervously wrings her hands together.

“What do you want to do?”

“There’s not many options. Alessio won’t leave unless he gets what he wants. And as much as I’d love to see you hand him in his ass…”

“Do you want to try and get out of here? Just grab Millie and leave?”

“You know we won’t get far. They’ve got a small army out there. You against all of them? I’ve always had faith in your skills and the things you’re able to do, but…”

“Even I’m not dumb enough to think I stand a chance against all that firepower. There’s gotta be a way though. Of getting you and Millie out of here. With no one else knowing. There has to be some way they get people around without being noticed.”

“I mean there’s an underground garage and there’s passageways, but Winston monitors those. There’s security EVERYWHERE. There’s no way we’d be able to even get to them without being seen. And if he’s messed up enough to offer you money to leave Millie and me behind, what’s stopping him from letting the enemy know what we’re up to?”

“He wants me out of the picture. He made that clear. Many times.”

“And he can make it happen. He’s got the power of The High Table backing him up. And we’ve already dealt with them once before. Look what they did five years ago. Tyler, these are powerful people. They make Alessio’s family look tame. And if we don’t play ball with them, the DiTomassos are going to be the least of our worries.”

Leaning back against the wall, he runs his hands over his weary, unshaven face. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I. And I’m starting to regret dragging you into this. There you were, just living a nice, quiet life and…”

“I was living a miserable life. Just like I have been for the last five years.”

“Which was my fault, too. Everything I touch, I totally fuck up. Your life, Millie’s life.”

“You haven’t fucked anything up. I mean, just look at her Esme. Look at how amazing your daughter…OUR daughter…is. She’s beautiful and she’s insanely smart and she loves the world and everyone in it. Her life is far from fucked up. Look at how much she loves you. And trusts you. You did that all on your own. Brought her up this far. And she’s incredible.”

“But I didn’t HAVE to do it alone. I had a choice. Once all the smoke cleared and we didn’t have to hide anymore. I could have made things so much easier on myself. And Millie. But I didn’t do it because I was a stupid, selfish little girl that couldn’t handle the thought of rejection. Or of seeing you with someone else.”

“That was what it was? The real reason? Why you didn’t get a hold of me?”

“I couldn’t handle it. The thought of you being with someone else, let alone SEEING it. And I realize how ridiculous that sounds now. You had every right to go on with your life; to meet someone else and fall in love and get married and have a family. But every time I thought about it, it made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t have you and I didn’t want anyone else to either. How pathetic is that?”

“Wanna hear pathetic? Every time I think of you with that asshole in there, I want to put my fist through a wall. Or throw that fucker out a window.”

“I was so scared. I was worried that if I called you or just showed up on your doorstep, you’d turn us away. That you’d still be so angry that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Millie.”

“That never would have happened. Not in a million years. I wouldn’t have turned her away. Or you.”

“The logical and rational side of me knew I was wrong. That you’d never do something like that. But when does fear make you think logically or rationally?”

“I wanted you. I never stopped wanting you. And if you’d just shown up on my doorstep, I would not have turned you away. Not when I spent so long missing you and wanting you back.”

“And now I’m back and look what’s happened. Look at the mess I dragged you into! This is NOT what I wanted. All those times I thought about just bringing Millie to you and begging you for another chance? None of them included THIS. If I’d just left you alone…”

“Esme…” Offering her a hand, he pulls her into him when she accepts; their fingers entwined and their joined hands resting on the small of her back. Her body resting against his as she stands between his legs; hands settling on his hips as he cradles the back of her head in his palm and presses a kiss to her brow. “...I don’t regret taking this job. And I won’t regret it no matter how messy it gets.”

“You had a normal life. You were doing normal things. And I came along and screwed that all up. Just like I screwed everything up five years ago.”

“Stop saying that. It’s not true. And you know it’s not. We had a good thing. A REALLY good thing. And yeah, it went bad and it sucked and the last five years have been pure and utter shit.”

“Because of me.”

“You didn’t know The High Table was going to come for you. There was no way you could have known that. And you were right; with what you said the other night. I wouldn’t have survived that. Challenging them. No way.”

“I had to protect you. I HAD to. I never would have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’m starting to understand that. I’m not quite there yet, but I’ll get there. It’s hard. Normally I’m the one who does the protecting. Kinda hard to accept when I’m on the other side of the fence.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You and your ego. And your whole knight in shining armour thing you’ve got going on.”

“I thought it was ‘knight in slightly tarnished armour’?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything when it comes to you.”

“Even how you used to always leave the toilet seat up and your dirty socks in front of the hamper instead of in it? And how you always used to put your cold feet against the back of my legs in bed?”

“I don’t seem to remember any of THOSE things.”

“Typical.” She gives a small laugh. “You had a selective memory then, too.”

Pressing their joined hands against the small of her back, he draws her even tighter against him and kisses her; long and soft and sweet. “I don’t regret taking this job. And I’m not going to regret it; no matter how ugly it might get. At the risk of sounding sappy and embarrassing myself, it brought us back together. And it brought me Millie. Which is the most amazing thing that could have ever happened.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Tyler. It was never intentional. It was all me. It was never you. I was just worried and scared and…”

He pecks her lips to silence her. “I know. So what do you want to do?” Releasing her hand from behind her back, he runs both palms across her shoulders and down her arms. “About right now? And this dick head fiance of yours?”

“Like Nik said; he’s not going to go away. It’s better if I just suck it up and talk to him. See what he has to say.”

“I’m sure he’s pretty pissed. Being led on for eight months. You’ll be okay? Being alone with him?”

“He won’t hurt me. He knows better. He knows I’ll fucking drop him.”

Tyler grins. “That’s my girl.”

“I’ll be fine. Nik will be close by. I trust her. With my life. With Millie’s life, even. And I know you’ve got a raging hate-on for her right now, but maybe you could shove that aside? Until we’re at least out of New York?”

“I can do that.”

“If you don’t trust Nik, trust me. I know what I’m doing. I know what Alessio is like. He’s not a threat. He’s an asshole, but definitely not a threat.”

“Good. Because I really don’t want to be throwing anyone out the window. Not today, anyway.”

Smiling, she stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to the tip of his chin. “You’d do that for me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Gentle fingertips explore the bruises and cuts on her face, then loop pieces of hair behind her ears. “ I’d set the world on fire for you.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler and Esme series #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Rake #Esme Drummond #Esme Drummond-Rake

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thiswasinevitableid · 8 months

Text

A New Role (Sternclay)

The winner of the "spooky jobs" prompt poll was: Actor known for horror & person fake dating them to help soften their image. Thanks to @bellafarallones2 for playing in the space on discord. This fill is NSFW

“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” Barclay loops the copper tie around his neck as his agent lounges in a living room chair.

“Because if you ever want this career change to work, dear boy, you need to make it so that the first things people associate with you aren’t blood and gore. You said as much yourself.”

“And I’m regretting it more every minute.” He grumbles, slipping on his jacket. Dani helped him pick it out when he first made it big. Paisley lining was lucky, she said.

Ned sighs, professional schmoozer mask dropping, “If it turns out to be miserable or he’s clearly bad for your health, we can cancel the agreement. But remember, you have three dates to decide. If it goes past that, you’re seeing this through for six months.”

“Don’t look so glum.” Boyd steps into the entryway, keys in hand, “Guy’s a looker.”

“Didn’t take you for a cradle robber.” Ned says brusquely as he stands.

“Nothing of the kind, pussycat, so keep your head on. C’mon big shot, let’s get you on the road.”

They drive towards UCLA, stopping well before the student housing but not in an area that’s been sorely neglected by the city. Boyd stops the car and whistles out his window, setting off dogs up and down the block. When the man waiting outside a grey apartment building looks up, Barclay feels like howling too.

“Evening, Joe. Hop in.”

“Joseph. And thank you.” He climbs into the Kia’s backseat with Barclay and Boyd steers them towards the freeway.

Joseph Stern turns his blue eyes on Barclay, who’s too busy wondering if Ned is fucking psychic–because there’s his type and there’s “this guy walked out of a late-night jerk off fantasy and into his car”--to hear the question he asks the first time.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said” Joseph replies calmly, “it’s nice to meet you in person, Barclay, and would you like to see the list of conversation starters I wrote for this ‘date’?”

Barclay chuckles.

“I’m serious.” Joseph turns his phone screen so Barclay can see the bullet points.

“You really think we need those?” Is the guy that convinced Barclay will be boring?

The other man tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Look, if this doesn’t pay off for you, all you have to fall back on is a beloved film career and the money that comes with it, and the fact people will hire you for those same kinds of roles again. If this doesn’t work out for me, I get more sessions reading over bad exposition in a Discovery Channel basement. If I’m lucky. So if you’re me, it pays to be prepared.”

Great, he thinks Barclay is boring and stupid.

He takes the phone, glances at it, then hands it back, “Okay, got a few.”

“I can send-”

“Memorized” Barclay taps his temple, “professional, remember?”

A flicker of annoyance, or maybe stress, crosses Joseph’s face, “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

They’re booked at a trendy “New American” place, high ceilings and bright lights showing him just how many immediately recognize his face as he walks in. By the time Joseph pulls his chair out for him, there are no fewer than ten cameras on them.

Some days he really fucking hates cell phones.

Even with the starters, the conversation is stilted through the appetizers and bordering on stale when the main course comes.

Barclay takes a bite and sighs, “I wish places like this wouldn’t take this kind of shortcut.”

Joseph looks from his own risotto to Barclay’s pot pie, “Pre-made filling?”

“Close. Pre-made crust. I mean, I know crust isn’t always easy to do but, like, the filling is fucking amazing and then they’ve got it on wet cardboard. See?” He spears a piece and holds it out.

Joseph leans back like Barclay’s about to stab him, manages to smile, “I’ll take your word for it.”

They make it to the end of dinner, but only just. As the check appears, their server murmurs shyly, “I loved you in Blunt Edges.”

It’s the highlight of Barclay’s night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

A Killer Romance?

Horror heavyweight Barclay Cobb was seen out last night on what seemed to be a romantic dinner for two….

Joseph sets his phone on the table, goes back to staring at the ceiling and replaying everything he did wrong last night. Their gambit is working, but Barclay had a miserable time and Joseph felt got to have all the fun of first-date jitters with none of the benefits.

Maybe he should have just told the actor that he’s had a crush on him since college.

If they were dating for real, maybe he could have confessed over a few glasses of wine that he once broke a vibrator from how he was using it during Thin Air, where Barclay’s murderous ski guide picks off a group of rich friends at a chalet.

But if Barclay is trying to leave that image behind him, Joseph doubts he wants to know someone used to jerk off to the sight of him covered in gore.

He has two more chances to make this really work. He’s charmed his way into, and out of, plenty of places. These dates are just another two job interviews to ace. He doesn’t want anything more from them than that.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second date is going better. Their conversation doesn’t feel stilted. Barclay just feels like a sheep being herded into position by a very cute border collie.

Joseph is far smoother tonight, bordering on flirtatious, and maybe it would work if Barclay didn’t know why he was really agreeing to this. He decides to let Joseph steer the conversation, content be smiled at and complimented while ignoring how it all feels rehearsed. And the fact Joseph didn’t order a cocktail in spite of Barclay knowing they’re killer here. Like he’s afraid Barclay might try something.

Then the T.V above the bar switches from playing some B-list thriller to one of his movies. Someone front of house must have realized he’s here. He doesn’t hide the scowl quick enough, and Joseph turns to look at the screen, then back with a quizzical expression.

“Sorry, know I should be flattered but I feel weird watching myself. Especially in that one; director was a fucking dick.”

“Really? I've heard mixed things about him.”

“Yep” Barclay refills both their water glasses, “he spent the whole shoot antagonizing me. Then at the end he was like ‘surprise, I did that so you’d give a believably angry performance and it’s just like, man, what the fuck? I literally get paid to pretend, you don’t have to goad me into having the feeling for real.”

“Ugh, that’s awful. Any time I read about that happening it just sounds so insulting to the actors and their skill.”

“Right?” Barclay shakes his head, amused at the memory that’s resurfaced, “I got so fucking stressed during that shoot I figured out how to make pizza from scratch in my hotel room.”

“Wait, how?” Joseph is leaning forward, mouth quirked in thought, “you’d need an oven.”

“Place had a grill on the deck, so I used that. Made for some good sauce too, since I could char the tomatoes.”

Joseph makes a little sound of delight, then smiles, “If it had been me I think I would have ended up getting the dough stuck to the ceiling when I tossed it.”

“Uhhhh”

“You didn’t” Blue eyes brighten.

“Technically it was the ceiling fan…”

Barclay’s description of the incident lasts them through to dessert. As they’re eating lemon basil gelato, Joseph casts another glance at the T.V.

“If you’re trying to break into the celebrity chef game, why not go that direction?” He gestures behind him to where a younger Barclay is menacing campers on the beach, “a horror cookbook could be a good enough gimmick to get people invested, especially if it included stories like the one you told me. Then people buy it, use it, realize you’re also a great cook, and then you can sell more books. And I’d certainly watch a horror themed cooking show.”

Joseph is earnestly thinking through the logistics, as if trying to help, so Barclay gives him the earnest answer.

“I thought about it. And I think doing some of that could be fun. But a big part of doing this is that I’m kinda tired of horror. I want people to see what else I can do and I…it’s hit the point where it’s like all people see when they look at me as the guy who’s good at playing killers and monsters. That's had actual consequences for me in places I really, really didn’t expect. So much that I don’t want to go near the horror stuff any time soon.”

Joseph rests his hand near Barclay’s on the table, “I hadn’t realized it was that bad.”

“Yeah.” He thinks about the snotty comments from casting directors and the invasive questions in interviews and the disappointed boyfriends. He pushes his dessert away, half done, “I’m gonna grab the check.”

“Okay.” Joseph’s hand doesn’t move as he adds, “Barclay? If people can’t separate you from your characters, that’s on them, not you.”

In spite of Boyds’ best efforts, they get caught in a traffic snarl on the way back to Joseph’s place. As the driver inches them forward, Barclay catches Joseph staring at a billboard for Ghost Adventures.

“Sizing up the competition?”

A short, flat laugh, “I wish. I can barely get in front of a camera, let alone get a full time hosting spot.”

“Anyone who can’t tell that putting you onscreen would boost ratings needs their eyes checked. Uh, I mean” he blushes in the darkened backseat, “you have Haunted Woods, right?”

“That’s only voice work, which means I don’t get to do any actual investigation. I mean, I like a good bigfoot sighting story as much as the next guy, but I want to go to where it happened. I want to interview people myself, I want to do stake-outs of haunted places or sighting hotspots, I want to actually help people figure out what they saw. What good is paranormal investigation if it’s just grown men scaring themselves in night-vision and misusing the word debunked?” Joseph gestures emphatically out the window, “he has four shows and a museum! For no other reason than he was a little ahead of the curve and men like him fail upwards!”

Barclay blinks, amused, and Joseph sits back in his seat and straightens his tie, “I’m sorry. It just bugs me to see so many programs not actually devoted to solving the mystery. I didn’t mean to, um, to go all angry nerd on you.”

“I didn’t mind” Barclay nudges him with his elbow, “and if it’s any consolation, you look way better in black than he does.”

Joseph returns to his smooth, subdued demeanor for the rest of the ride. Intrigued by the other sides of the man he glimpsed, Barclay decides to go off-script on their third date.

“I thought we were going to that new beach spot?” Joseph peers out the window as they head toward the L.A County Museum of Art.

“Figured we could change things up a bit. Know Ned made a reservation at the other spot, but he’s not actually my dad who gets to tell me where to go. Or anyone else’s, I think.”

“Not a chance.” Boyd adds from the front seat.

They head into the museum holding hands, since several people spot Barclay and pull out their phones as they’re getting out of the car. Because they’d planned to go dining on the beach, Joseph is dressed more casually, in jeans and a button-up short sleeve. It’s only when they pass through a darkened gallery–showing off art made with deadly items, including radium paint– that he sees the dark blue fabric is dotted with glow-in-the-dark flying saucers.

When they round the corner, Joseph actually gasps, putting his hands over his mouth, “I didn’t realize At Home With Monsters was back in town.”

“Yep, they brought it back for the lead-up to Halloween. Y’know, a friend of mine was in one of Del Toro’s movies-��

“Amazing, tell me everything while we look, come one” Joseph pulls him into the exhibit. They emerge two hours later, talking animatedly about Barclay’s experiences wearing monster make-up, and make for the cafe for lunch. They spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the other exhibits, and Barclay quickly texts in a reservation to Pho King, aka the best kept dining secret in the area, when Joseph agrees to dinner.

When they leave the museum, Joseph holds his hand the whole way. Without checking for cameras first.

—---------------------------------------------------

“You wanna give this a try?” Barclay passes Joseph his phone, where he’s been unsuccessfully been trying for an artful shot of his finished, Coffee S’more Cupcakes to post to Instagram. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t bother, but it’ll look good to a prospective publisher. Plus, whenever Dani posts photos of his stuff, it gets a ton of compliments.

“Yes, but only because if I have to go any longer without trying those I might cry.” Joseph looks at the plate, then at the ceiling, then moves the plate across the counter to a pool of sunlight. He tries a few different angles, then hands the phone back to Barclay.

“I warn you that I’m no food photographer.”

“This one’ll work, thanks.” He nudges the cupcakes towards him, “you first.”

Joseph takes a bite, then moans and politely covers his mouth, “Oh. Oh my lord. We have to get you that cookbook deal, the people deserve to know about this.”

Barclay grins and peels the wrapper from another cupcake. Joseph continues eating, more messily than he’s ever seen, and if this were a real date he’d lean over and kiss the stray frosting from his lips.

A knock at the door reminds him why they’re here, and when calls for Ned to come in, his agent looks perturbed.

“Gentlemen, I know this was meant to be a simple check-in, but I’m afraid we have a problem: the press may be catching onto us. Because they have, I am afraid to say rightly, noticed you two are not demonstrative in public.”

“How do they know we’re not just very private people?” Joseph leans on the counter, arms crossed.

“When have internet speculators ever preferred the simple explanation?”

Joseph sighs, “I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

“So, what, we’re just supposed to make-out in public until someone sees us?” Barclay loves kissing, but can’t think of anything he’d like less at the moment.

“Yes. But never fret, my lovebirds; I’ll make sure your next date is somewhere that feels appropriately passion provoking.”

Barclay steals a glance at Joseph, who raises an eyebrow in reply, smile one of conspiratorial sympathy, “Gee, thanks.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a terrible idea, but Joseph's options were either be nervous in his apartment or be nervous at Barclay’s house, so he’s choosing the one with a better view.

His knock summons the actor still in his casual clothes, looking worried as he opens the door.

“You’re early. Like, early-early, even for you. What’s up?”

The fact his shirt is more low cut than normal has nothing to do with Joseph replying, “I think we need to practice. For this evening.”

“You…want to practice kissing me?” Barclay shuts the door, leaving them in the darkened entryway.

“Yes. Not that I think you’ll be bad at it. Or that I’m bad at it. But, well, the first kiss with a new person is usually pretty obvious and awkward and I’d hate for us to be caught on camera not, um, not doing our best work.”

This was a terrible idea.

“Sure. Guess it would look pretty awkward if the first time we did it was in public. You wanna sit down on the couch or…”

“Couch is fine.” Joseph hurries to the plaid sofa before he changes his mind. Barclay sits next to him, moving like he’s approaching a scared deer.

“It okay if I put my hand on your hip? Don’t wanna fall over on you.”

“That’s fine.” He sets both his hands stiffly on Barclay’s shoulders, closes his eyes as a big hand cups his cheek. Then full lips peck him once, shyly, on the mouth.

“Come on big guy” he murmurs, “you can do better than that.”

An indulgent laugh, then another kiss, a real one this time, sugar sweet and sunshine gentle. He smiles into it, stopping Barclay from breaking the kiss. The actor leans in, hand gliding from Joseph’s hip to his lower back, and when Joseph teases his lips with his tongue there’s a scuff of feet leaving the floor as Barclay tips them down onto the sofa.

Joseph surrenders any pretense he doesn’t want this to be happening, runs his hands along Barclay’s back, it’s muscles tensing every time Joseph returns for another kiss instead of pulling away.

When he hazards a lovebite to Barclay’s lower lip, the man above him groans and tangles their legs together, expression so blissful when he pulls back for air that Joseph is one second away from telling him to text Ned and cancel their reservations.

Barclay stiffens, suddenly won’t meet his gaze as he fumbles one of the small throw pillows into his lap and sits back up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just, uh, just needed a change of position. Old back injury from a stunt.”

It’s a lie. So Joseph does the most loving thing he can in that moment and believes it.

“Thanks for telling me.” He smooths down the mussed patches of Barclay’s beard, “I’d say I’m ready to, um, perform in public. Unless you need more practice?”

Barclay shakes his head, “I’m good. Think I know just how to play it now.”

Joseph smiles, heart like a crushed tin can, and lets Barclay rest his head on his shoulder.

—---------------------------------------------------

“You did WHAT???” Indrid’s laugh is one part horror and two parts shock on the other end of the line.

“You heard me. I got hard from kissing, like a fucking teenager-”

“And then ‘freaked out’ like one, as the kids say.”

“Indrid, no one’s said that since we were kids.”

“My point stands, do not try to change the subject.” His friend reappears in the frame–he never holds still on video calls–draped in a sweatshirt that’s clearly the wrong size for him.

“Duck’s visiting again?”

“Yes, since we’re shooting in Richmond I flew him here to spend the weekend with me. Mercifully those aren’t days when I have to get into swamp monster make-up. And” Indrid looks at him over his glasses, “changing it to my favorite subject is still changing the subject.”

“It didn’t mean anything. Joseph’s doing this for his career and mine, he doesn’t want to deal with my dick.”

“Ah yes, the ‘I will arrive early at your house so it is just the two of us and suggest we practice kissing’ gambit. A classic move by those decidedly not interested in seeing your dick.”

“His reasoning made sense! And he’s worked so hard that’s exactly the kind of thing he’s willing to do for his career. You don’t know him, okay?” Barclay sets his mug down with a defeated thunk.

“I know he’s masterfully dodged questions about your endowment from more than one interviewer in a way that suggests he’s spent at least some time thinking about your dick. More to the point, I know you; and you, my friend, have a crush on him that can be seen from space. So for goodness sake, tell him that before I fly myself back to L.A and do it for you.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell him. I just have to find the perfect time to do it.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their plan really is working. Not only has Barclay gotten his book deal, with talks of a show on the horizon, but Joseph has been recognized more at this one party than in his entire career up until now.

Maybe he can use that to convince Barclay they should keep dating for at least another six months.

The event was in San Diego, and rather than try to drive home in the dead of night they booked a hotel downtown. Barclay always springs for ones with beds that can actually fit two, six-foot tall men, and so they’re currently in a corner room with a stunning view and cartoonishly large bed.

Joseph hangs up his jacket and tie, turns to find running his hands over the dress sweater still stretched over his chest.

“Gonna have to take this one out of the rotation. Apparently it looks too much like the one I wore in Camp Blood; got a bunch of comments on it, even a joke about how it must be nice to never need a Halloween costume.”

“Christ.” Joseph crosses the green carpet, “some people really can’t use the power of thinking about things for two seconds. If you do take it out of the rotation, promise you won’t get rid of it?”

“You like it?” Barclay’s brow unfurrows in an instant as he turns to face Joseph.

“It makes you look like a hot teacher on back to school night.” He runs his hands over the blue and grey wool, “the kind that makes all the moms linger for a chat and all the dads jealous enough to consider actually making their wives cum at some point in their lives.”

Barclay laughs, “Okay, babe, it stays.” He sighs happily as Joseph continues petting across his chest, “thanks for coming along tonight. It’s funny, after all these years I still get a little nervous at, at these…” his next breath is shuddery. Joseph has an answer to why when he glances down at the actors fly.

“You don’t seem nervous now.” He teases.

“Fuck” Barclay hisses through his teeth, “fuck, Joseph, I’m so sorry. I’m just, I’ve always been so fucking sensitive, it’s just one more thing that disappoints my partners, it’s fine, I’m fine, it’ll go away eventually. I just didn’t want you to have to deal with how fucking hair-trigger it can be-”

“Barclay” he says it firmly, and brown eyes snap to meet his own, “it doesn’t bother me. And if you sit down, we can, uh, find a way to get rid of it quicker.”

Barclay doesn’t even make it to the bed, falling into the nearest armchair as Joseph lowers to his knees. In three, deliberate movements he has Barclay’s pants and underwear around his ankles and the nicest cock he’s ever seen inches from his face. He’s practically licking his lips and Barclay still looks like he’s about to say “sorry.” Again.

“Barclay” Joseph runs his from the tip to the root, “if I ever catch you apologizing for this gorgeous thing again, I will slap you. Or possibly it.”

Strong fingers twist at the hem of the sweater as a breathy, hopeful voice replies, “Really?”

Joseph looks up, grinning, “Do you like when your partners are mean in the bedroom, big guy?”

“I, I think so. I want it so bad but no one was every fucking interested! They all wanted the guy they saw on-screen. That’s all I was; the monster they wanted to be roughed up by.”

Joseph eases Barclay’s hands from the fabric, brings them to his mouth to kiss his knuckles as he muses, “You know, you’d have made a pretty victim in those movies just as easily.”

The other man looks away, “M’too big.”

“I think the right man could make you seem like a helpless puppy. Don’t you?”

Barclay turns wide, pleading eyes on him, “I wish he would.”

Joseph stands, yanks off his belt, and snaps, “Hands above your head. Now.”

Barclay obeys instantly, chest heaving as Joseph traps his wrists above his head. Joseph rests his hands on either side of the top of the chair, looming into Barclay’s space, “Out of curiosity, big guy, did you ever think about what monster you’d be at the mercy of?”

His boyfriend mumbles something.

Joseph digs a hand into auburn hair, forcing the other man to keep his eyes on him, “Try that again.”

“S-secret agent. Like a rogue one, or an ex-sniper or something. Sorry, I, I know it’s goofy-”

“Barclay, if you apologize again I will play with these” he shoves the sweater up to reveal Barclay’s pecs, “so roughly you’ll cry. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Barclay glances at him, not hiding his smile, “sorry, sir.”

Without another word, Joseph straddles him, shoves the sweater up into Barclay’s mouth and barks, “hold that” before diving down to bite the left side of his chest as hard as he dares.

Barclay yells but keeps the gag in place. Without looking up Joseph pats his cheek and coos “good boy” before doing the same to the other side. Then he kisses and bites his way back and forth, pausing now and then to suck his nipples, which results in an adorably small noise from such a large man. Even better are the sounds when he grabs and squeezes, Barclay whimpering and moaning as Joseph fondles him like he owns him.

He shifts up onto his knees, denying Barclay the chance to rub off on him, and pinches each nipple in turn. Barclay squeezes his eyes shut, muffled sounds of pain turning Joseph on too much to even worry if enjoying them makes him a bad person.

When brown eyes open again, they’re teary. So Joseph carefully eases out of his lap, kissing his cheek as he goes.

“There. Now that you know what I’m capable of, are you going to be a good boy and let me suck your cock?”

Frantic nodding accompanies his trip to his knees. He kisses the shaft up and down, mouth already watering, “This really is spectacular. Makes me feel almost a little bad at the thought of torturing it.”

Barclay moans, then gasps when Joseph bites his inner thigh. Another bite sets the bigger man squirming.

“What’s wrong, big guy? Afraid I might bite somewhere I shouldn’t?”

Barclay nods and moans.

Joseph smiles wolfishly up at him, “I could. It’s not like there’s anything stopping me. And it’s not like you can get away.” He opens his mouth, allowing his upper row of teeth to just, and only just, touch the head for an instant, and Barclay’s how body goes taught. Then he opens wider, pushing his head down to suck Barclay off. A relieved moan is followed by another one of those endearing squeaks as Joseph cups his balls and squeezes them a tad too tightly.

Then it’s his turn to gasp, cum hitting the roof of his mouth and dripping onto his tongue as Barclay twists and whimpers in his chair.

Joseph swallows what he can, wipes the rest away with the back of his hand as he stands.

“Right. My turn”

He hauls Barclay from the chair, shoving and stumbling them both over to the bed and pushing the other man onto his back. He pulls the spit-soaked sweater free and grips Barclay’s chin hard enough to redden the skin.

“You are going to get me off with your mouth, or there will be consequences.”

“Fuck yes, sir.” Barclay purrs as Joseph yanks and tosses his pants away. When he lowers onto Barclay’s face, it’s a toss-up as to who moans the loudest.

“Jesuschrist, oh, oh I see why you like the rogue agent idea.” Joseph tangles his fingers into Barclay’s hair, grinding against his eager mouth, “you know you’d, you’d be a perfect hostage. Because all it’d take is someone slapping you once and calling you a pretty boy and you’d be on your knees letting anyone who wanted to shove their cock down your throat.”

“Mmhph!” Barclay nods, hands fighting against their bonds.

“I know, you’re just an obedient, sweet boy who needs to be put in his place. Which, which happens to be, oh, oh fuck, Barclay, Barclay.” He cums hard and collapses forward, catching himself on his arms and rolling off to avoid breaking Barclay’s nose. It’s still zinging through him as he undoes the belt and guides Barclay onto his side to study his face.

“Was that okay? Are you okay?”

“Uh huh” the deep voice is dreamy and far off, “so okay. You’re so good. So amazing.”

“I’m going to get us some water okay? I’ll be right back.”

He fills two clean glasses in the bathroom and hurries back. When he gets to the bed, Barclay is curled up, trying to drag the blanket beneath him up around him.

“Oh, oh big guy hey, hey it’s okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He brushes Barclay’s hair from his forehead, “I think you’re dropping. I, I’ve had this happen before, if you want I can-”

“It’s not that.” Barclay wipes his eyes, “I mean maybe a little but it’s…you’re gonna leave in two weeks. This, this is all just for the contract. You, you don’t-”

“Bullshit I don’t.” He hugs Barclay tight, “I want to be your boyfriend, your real boyfriend, so badly it’s like a constant ache in my chest. God, I’m so stupid, I should have started with that, I was just so caught up and a little afraid that this would be my only chance to be with you like this.”

“I was thinking the same thing. And I was gonna ask you this morning if you wanted to keep dating but I chickened out and planned to do it tomorrow instead.” A gentle chuckle, “guess we were both being foolish in the same way.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I was nervous. And I kinda convinced myself that if you wanted me for real you would have said.”

Joseph runs a hand over his hair with an embarrassed laugh, “I did the same thing.”

“Man, we really are two, big fools huh?”

“Maybe” Joseph kisses him, “but we’re fools in love.”

Barclay’s grin is brighter than all of L.A combined, “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

#taz amnesty #sternclay #hollywood #trans agent stern #agent stern/barclay #promptober

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