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bobbile-blog · 4 months

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Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it��.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

#arknights #arknights thoughts #hortus de escapismo #laterano #fiametta #executor arknights #I deadass had to ask folks to proofread this one #to make sure I didn’t sound like I didn’t sound off my rocker #also don’t mind my random Harry Potter slander that’s an entirely different rant

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katyswrites · 1 year

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don't call me 'baby'

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, sexual harassment/men being gross, alcohol use, smoking, age gap

Wordcount: 4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 1 | in the same room, at the same time

This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would tell yourself, later. But, life is funny that way - nothing ever really goes the way you’d expect it. And, when you had taken the last-minute shift at Enoteca Bruni, the fine-dining restaurant where you worked as a cocktail waitress, you could have never predicted where the night would take you.

It had started with a large reservation that had come in around 8pm, four businessmen in suits and watches that you imagined cost more than your entire month’s rent. You were used to that type - considering the prices on the wine list, nearly everyone you served here lived at least three tax brackets above you. It wasn’t a job meant for everyone - a lot of these types of customers were dismissive, rude, and expected those who serve them to disappear in the background, not to interrupt whatever they were doing, which was obviously oh-so-important. But, the tips were phenomenal, and the late night hours worked perfectly with your daytime shifts at the cafe in the city’s center.

Still, the most intriguing thing about them was that they weren’t Italian, like you had gotten used to - nor were they speaking Spanish, French, German, or any of the other languages you had learned to recognize over the last few years. No, they were American. It wasn’t often that you heard your native tongue and accent nowadays - no, it was actually jarring. But, you welcomed it. The oldest man at the table, a gray-haired, thin man with a sharp face and tailored three-piece suit, smiled when you greeted them with a hello.

“How wonderful,” he had exclaimed. “Someone from our side of the world.”

“Finally,” a younger man with a smattering of freckles on the other side of the table had said, exasperated. “We’ve got someone who actually speaks English around here.”

“Well,” you said, “To be fair, you are in Rome. I suppose you could say we are the odd-ones-out.”

He rolled his eyes, and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just trying to say it’s nice to actually understand who I’m talking to for once, you know? Not that I’m looking for her to talk back.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t even crack the top ten worst things a customer had said to you in your time working here. So instead, you just plastered on a cheerful smile.

“Of course. In that case, what drinks can I get started for you gentlemen?”

As the hours wore on though, it was becoming harder and harder to feign kindness. With each wave of dismissal, or snap of their fingers, you wanted to take the drinks you were serving and throw them in their faces. The worst of the bunch were probably the first older man you had spoken to, who had such a vile demeanor about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on it; and perhaps worse than him were two of the younger men, the dark-haired one with freckles, and a sandy-haired guy with what you could only describe as a mullet.

1982 called, it wants its hairstyle back, you thought to yourself.

It was those two who you could see undressing you with their eyes, who called you over for nonsense requests, asking you to bend over the table to get things that you knew they were perfectly capable of reaching themselves. And, you weren’t deaf; you heard the comments they made as you walked away to fetch more wine and scotch.

Look at that ass go, one of them said. I’d definitely hit it.

As if you could pull that, the other said. Besides, you’ve already got two bitches on the side Billy; leave some for the rest of us.

Don’t look at me, the sandy-haired man who was apparently named Billy retorted. If anyone around here needs to get laid, it’s Harrington.

With your back turned, you rolled your eyes, and wondered if they’d notice if you spit in their drink - that was, until no-first-name Harrington replied.

Guys, lay off - just let the girl do her job, yeah?

You took a deep breath, and recomposed yourself - it was the bare minimum, but it was something - someone who saw you as a person, maybe.

You carried the tray over with a wide smile plastered on your face, handing out drinks as you surveyed the table. You glanced at Harrington, the quietest one in the group - you had hardly heard a word from him all night, until right now. He was handsome, on the younger side of the group, but you’d estimate still about a decade your senior; he had a thick, slightly wild head of chestnut hair, and more of a boyish look about him. And with the exception of his perfectly-tailored suit and ostentatious Rolex, he didn’t look to have much else in common with his colleagues at first glance. While they sat at ease, laughing and conversing over their drinks, he sat up straight, stoically swirling his wine.

You pulled the post-dinner cigars they had asked you to bring out of the box, slicing the end with the guillotine cutter and handing the first one to the oldest man, striking a match and lighting it for him until he drew smoke. It felt humiliating sometimes, to light the Suits’ cigars for them as if they couldn’t do it themselves, but that came with the territory in a place like this, you had learned.

You reached Harrington last, only for him to shake his head.

“Oh, none for me - thank you though.”

Thank you - he was probably the first one from the table to say that all evening.

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” you asked stiffly.

“That’ll be all, for now,” the gray-haired man said, waving you off.

You nodded, and at the bar, decided it was high time for your smoke break. You glanced at your watch - your shift was over in less than an hour, and your high heels were killing you. You signaled to the manager behind the bar that you were taking fifteen, and shouldered your way out the door.

*****

The first few minutes outside were peaceful, and relatively quiet - at least, as quiet as Rome could be at this hour. There was still the distant sound of traffic, the bustle of people on the sidewalk, many drunkenly stumbling and laughing, in the midst of making merry on a Friday night. You took a drag from your cigarette and inhaled deeply - even just a few moments off of your feet, and sitting out here on this bench in the fresh air, was starting to take the edge off. Still, you couldn’t shake that table of men - your manager had warned you that it was a very high-profile client, explaining that the dinner was likely a pretense for some multi-million dollar deal to be discussed. Still, you found yourself muttering under your breath, practicing the retorts and profanities you had wanted to throw at them. The shield you had built for dealing with customers was only so strong, and if your job wasn’t on the line, you probably would have told them to fuck off hours ago.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear someone approaching, not until they’re right next to you, clearing their throat.

“Oh! Jesus, hi,” you say, clutching your chest with your hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Harrington was standing above you, hands in his pockets and his tie loosened.

“It’s fine - I promise, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His smile was friendly, and a bit apologetic. He looked different in the dim light, a bit younger, and not at all like someone who spends his days in an office doing… whatever those men inside did.

“You mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to you on the bench. You just shook your head, a bit wary of him still.

He smiled, and started fishing around in his pockets until he pulled out a small baggie of tobacco and a pack of rolling papers. You raised your eyebrows, and smirked.

“You roll your own cigarettes?” you asked.

He nodded, not quite looking at you, focused intently on the task and hand.

“Yep. It’s so much better than that crap you smoke, trust me.”

You scoffed, despite the fact that this man was technically your customer, and your shift wasn’t quite over yet.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing just fine with what I’ve got. Thanks though…” you trailed off, looking at him expectantly. He caught on and turned to face you, grinning.

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

He extended a hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard by the simplicity of the gesture from someone like him, but you took it, telling him your own name. His much bigger hand was warm and calloused, shaking yours firmly before pulling away.

You stared at him intently, desperately trying to figure him out as you placed your cigarette between your lips and inhaled. It was hard to figure out what exactly his deal was - but, he was talking to you like you were an actual person, so that was at least a step above most of the people you’d waited on here.

When he finished rolling, he stuck the cigarette between his lips, then sighed.

“Shit - d’you have a light?”

You nodded, reaching into your handbag and pulling out your small blue lighter. He leaned in close, close enough that you could faintly smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off of him in the cool May evening. It took a moment for the flame to catch, then he was leaning back and he took a drag, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You looked away quickly, staring at the street ahead. Your black cocktail dress didn’t offer much coverage, causing you to shiver slightly as a breeze picked up. It was Steve who broke the silence, after a few moments.

“I want to apologize, by the way - my, uh, colleagues… they’re assholes.”

You nearly choked at his words, whipping around to face him.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“I - I don’t know how much you heard in there, but -”

“I heard enough,” you said quickly.

His face fell, then hardened. He looked… angry? Or, perhaps disappointed.

“I really am sorry. I know I probably should have said something, but…Brenner’s my boss. And, there’s a lot of people who would kill to work for him. So, you have to understand… I mean, Tommy and Billy, they’re real jerks. I can’t stand them, most of the time. So, just know that if you want to punch them in the face, I’d understand.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head.

“Well, just between you and me, I do want to punch them. But… I would really like to keep my job, and actually get a good tip at the end of the night. So, if I can make it through the next -” you glanced at your watch, “- half an hour or so, I’ll be alright. I’m kind of used to it anyway, working here.”

You felt his eyes on you, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Then, he said more softly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Really.”

You shrugged.

“It’s fine. But, thank you - most people don’t take the time to say that, I guess.”

A moment of semi-awkward silence fell between you and him, before you added, “But, it’s good to know that I apparently have a nice ass.”

He laughed at that, choking on the smoke he was inhaling.

“Oh God - Billy and Tommy really are the worst. Did you hear that they actually were trying to make a bet about you in there?”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

“What kind of bet?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, staring straight ahead as he shook his head vigorously.

“You know what - nevermind, you’d be disgusted -”

“Well now you have to tell me,” you conceded, inching closer. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad -”

“They said if I manage to get you to go home with me tonight, they’d agree on this huge deal with HNL that they’ve been trying to close with our European counterpart for months - they said it because they knew it wouldn’t happen, of course, I don’t really -”

“What would you get?” you asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“If they thought you won the bet, like, would that be good for your job?”

He scoffs, nodding fervently.

“Um, yes - my yearly bonus would probably quadruple -”

“Then let’s do it,” you said.

His mouth fell open, and he was staring at you like you had three heads.

“Do what, exactly?”

He suddenly looked flushed, frozen in place as he stared at you. You felt a devilish grin spread on your face as you looked back at him, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Harrington.”

*****

You had made sure he arrived back at the table only moments before you. The group of cajoling men were louder now, Tommy slurring his words and Billy in a heated debate with Brenner. Steve flashed a smile at the group, then started sipping his drink as if he had never left.

“What I’m saying is, if we offer them 14 percent -”

“Well, at that rate, we may as well sell them the whole goddamn company -”

“We’re going to have to budge at least a little if we want to make headway, otherwise Upside Tech might outbid us -”

“Harrington!” Tommy cried over the other two men. “Where th’hell ‘ave you been? You left me stranded with these two, they’re actually trying to work right now -”

Then, he spotted you, suddenly flashing a grin that was too wide for your liking.

“Mademoiselle - might I say, I think you’ve only gotten hotter since I last saw you -”

“That was only about twenty minutes ago,” Steve said firmly, cutting Tommy off. “Also, we’re in Italy, not France.”

Tommy waved him off, leaning closer across the table, towards where you stood.

“May I ask, how’re you getting home tonight, little lady?”

You just smiled.

“I’m actually so happy you brought that up - while I appreciate your concern and all, I’ve got that covered.”

You then turned to Steve, who froze in place.

“Ready to go, Steve?” you asked innocently.

All conversation stopped, then, the other men around the table stopped to gape at him. A smug smirk appeared on Steve’s face, and he stood up slowly, smoothing out his suit.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at the pet name, as ridiculous as it felt.

“What?” Billy said, his jaw nearly on the floor.

But before they could ask any more questions, Steve was holding out his bent arm, which you graciously hooked yourself through. You pressed yourself into his side, flashing another grin back at the group.

“I’ve left your bill on the table - thank you gentlemen for a wonderful evening, and we hope to see you soon!”

Then Steve surveyed the table, adding, “I suspect you’ll be in touch about negotiation meetings shortly? Since that was the deal and all. I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”

Then, you and Steve turned a corner and headed out the door, to where a car was already waiting for you.

Steve gestured for you to go in ahead of him, opening the backseat door. You slid across, greeting the driver quickly and Steve followed, shutting the door behind you. The second it was closed, you both looked at each other, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my God - did you see their faces?”

“I’m going to live on that for years,” he added, fighting to breathe. You threw your head back, practically cackling at the memory of their dumbfounded expressions.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, regaining his composure. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it - I think I got off of it more than you.”

“I doubt that.”

You met his gaze, and your breath stopped for a moment. He really was handsome, his honey-brown eyes staring into yours with such sincerity that it was actually overwhelming. You looked away quickly, staring straight ahead.

“Well, if anything, it made my shift more interesting, so thanks,” you said, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“Yeah, and you just made me my yearly bonus, so thank you.”

After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“So, uh, where do you live? So I can get you home.”

“Oh! Right,” you said. “Um, do you have any ID or anything?”

Steve furrowed his brow, confused.

“Why are you asking?”

“Look, don’t take this personally - I’ve watched way too much Criminal Minds in my life. And, while I’m sure you’re nice and all, I’m not exactly gonna tell a strange man I’ve never met where I live without some precautions. So, I’m going to take a picture of your ID and send it to my roommate, so she knows who to turn in if I end up on the news, yeah?”

Steve just smirked, and pulled out his wallet.

“So, you think I’m strange?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile.

“Obviously, yes.”

Steve chuckled softly, fishing his license out of his wallet.

“Fair enough - as long as you’re not trying to steal my identity or anything.”

“Oh, definitely,” you said sarcastically. “I was actually going to buy a mansion in your name, if that’s alright.”

He laughed, handing you the card as you took a photo. The address was in Indiana - interesting. He was also 30, judging from his birthday - nearly ten years older than you. Also interesting. You handed it back, shooting a quick text to Robin:

I’ll explain later, but in case I get murdered!

You attached the photo and pressed send.

Satisfied, you leaned forward, telling your address to the driver, who nodded and pulled onto the busy city street.

You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window. You passed dimly-lit alleyways and bustling restaurants, groups smoking on the sidewalk and couples kissing on benches as the evening started winding down. The silence in the car is comfortable enough, considering that you met the man beside you a few hours ago. It’s him who breaks the lull in conversation, once again.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“The bet? Well, kind of - at least, why did you make it look like I - like we -”

You shrugged, shifting to face him.

“Honestly?”

He nodded, gaze fixed on you.

“Well - a few reasons, I guess. I knew it would get those jerks off of my back. And, I knew it would help you, with your bonus and all.”

“And why did you want to help me, though? You know nothing about me.”

“Not true,” you said firmly. “I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re kind.”

It was simple, but true - for the type of clientele you usually served, he was a rare breed. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I mean, you were nice to me, and actually treated me like a person. I can’t say that for a lot of people, not in that place.”

“Oh,” he said softly.

A beat. Two. Then, he added, “Oh no - I didn’t even ask, did you have a car, back at the restaurant? Because we can go back and get it -”

“No, don’t worry about it - I don’t have one. I usually take the bus.”

“Oh - alright.”

You tried to stop yourself from rolling your eyes - Steve probably wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. Or any public transport, for that matter. But, you kept it within yourself, and turned out towards the window again - the sights were getting more familiar, the buildings a little more run-down - closer to home.

You noticed your phone light up in your lap, and glanced down - a response from Robin.

Um… congrats???? Getting laid???? You’d better tell me EVERYTHING!!!!

You laughed under your breath, and saw Steve move to look at you out of the corner of your eye, curious. Before you could respond to her message, the car came to a halt right outside of your apartment building. You sighed, and turned to face the man beside you.

“Well, this is me. Thank you. For the ride home, I mean - you didn’t really have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Steve said, waving a hand. “Had to make sure you got home safely and all, it was the least I could do.”

You both looked at each other for a moment, faces soft. You shot him another appreciative smile, and popped open the car door.

“Goodnight, Steve Harrington. Until we meet again!”

You knew the chances of seeing him ever again were slim at best, but it felt like the right thing to say, given the hilarity of the situation. After slamming the door shut, you rooted through your bag for your keys, taking the steps up to your door two at a time. Before heading inside, you turned and waved to the car one more time - Steve wasn’t visible through the tinted windows, but you liked to imagine that he was waving back, maybe even smiling fondly.

******

Two days later, an envelope was pushed through the mail slot in your door. It was Robin who brought it in, plopping it down on the kitchen table as you sipped your coffee.

“What’s that?” you asked.

She shrugged, carding through the other envelopes and flyers.

“Don’t know. But, it’s made out to you. The envelope looks fancy though - I mean, who the Hell puts a wax seal on letters anymore?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and snatched it up, turning it over in your hands - it was thick, the nice kind of stationary that you had to go out of your way to buy. There was a return address, but it seemed like it was for an office building of some kind, with no name associated. And, right on the center, a red wax seal with an H. You felt your face grow hot, your stomach doing somersaults as you practically tore the thing open.

Inside was a simple piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. After writing out your name, it read:

Thank you again, for the other night. You have no idea how much that helped me out. Plus, it was probably the best time I’ve had at a work event… well, ever. But, since you provided such great service… you really should be tipped appropriately. I also made sure to leave a glowing review with your manager the next day. Buy yourself something nice.

S.H.

You glanced back in the envelope, and gasped - loudly enough that Robin stopped what she was doing, and joined you in her awe.

“Is that -”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s a shit ton of money.”

He had sent a stack of €100 notes - you hadn’t counted yet, but it had to be over €1,000, at least.

“Dude, that’s like, at least two months’ rent right there, right?” Robin asks, flabbergasted.

“I - yeah.”

“Okay, be honest - are you a drug dealer? Is that, like, a side gig you’ve got going?”

You shook your head incredulously, gripping the money - the most cash you had ever held at one time in your life.

“No,” you admitted. “That would be a lot easier to explain.” Steve Harrington, you thought to yourself, what’s your deal?

Notes: a brand new fic! A ton of credit goes to my friend Em, who indulges my fantasies and headcanons with plenty of ideas of her own. Also, I've never been to Rome, so bear with me here. Also, please always read content warnings before reading each part!

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #sugardaddy!steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #modern steve harrington #don't call me baby fic #sugar daddy fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington/fem!reader

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zuucc · 11 months

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MORE THAN A VANVOUVER SUNSET: What if…

… Mat had given in?

Summary: What If Mat had given into Emma, that night in his car? What if he’d thrown his principles out the window and given into what they both wanted so badly? This story is a spin on what would’ve happened in Mat’s car that night after their trip to Sunset Beach - the trip that definitely was not a date - if Mat hadn’t been so stubborn, and so adamant about taking her on a date first.

Warnings: Smut, more cursing than actual sentences

Word Count: 3600 (including excerpt)

Author’s note: I wrote the first 50.000 words to More Than a Vancouver Sunset when I was supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis. That´s just about three years ago now, which is just mind blowing on its own. The fact that this story still spins through my head still, is maybe even worse? Anyways, I’ve got a week long exam and just like before, that makes me want to write everything but that. It´s not like MTAVS doesn’t have enough smut as it is, but banging my head against table has got me coming up with all kinds of shit. Needless to say - it’s spicy. I know I’m not really on here anymore, and for most people I’m just someone you’ll occasionally see on someone’s Mat Barzal, Tyson Jost or William Nylander fic rec list. I don’t even think half the people I used to talk to on here back then are still here, but I hope this finds someone who’s interested. And this could be read as a stand alone, you do not have to have read the 80k nightmare that is More Than a Vancouver Sunset to read this.

I hope you enjoy.

In cursive, you will find an extract from More Than a Vancouver Sunset, with what leads up to this story. If you haven’t read the full story - Mat has previously stated that Emma is not the kind of girl he’d just fuck, he would like to take her on a date first. He’s brought her to watch the sunset at the beach, but didn’t call it date out of fear. Though it really feels like a date to Emma and he did end up kissing her.

His hand started laced with hers, their fingers intertwined, resting in her lap as they began the drive back home. The conversation flowed freely, and it hit Mat square in the chest that though their lives had taken completely different paths after high school, they still shared many of the same experiences and they still had so much in common – hell they’d even ended up in the same city. Soon, his hand was gripping her thigh lightly and Emma’s own hand curled around his wrist, moving back and forth in a soothing manner.

“I have to admit, my crush on you came back pretty quickly,” he hummed, looking over at her for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road ahead, causing Emma to laugh.

“Yeah, a little faster than I’d like to admit,” she agreed, and Mat nodded along. He was pulling onto her street, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. The digital clock on his dash had pushed past eleven and Emma’s parents’ house was dark when he pulled into the driveway. He turned the car off, already knowing that he wouldn’t just be saying goodbye and backing out again. He looked over at the beautiful girl sitting next to him, and she was already looking back at him. They both smiled, looking at each other for way too long before they both burst out in giggles. They’d talked non stop all the way back and now it seemed that they were both out of words.

“Come here,” Mat chuckled, pulling her closer by her hand and meeting her halfway. They both smiled into the short kiss, their eyes meeting for a second before their lips did, though this time the kiss was loaded with all the sexual tension that had seemed to make the air thick all around them. Emma’s nose brushed against Mat’s before the kiss deepened, the open mouthed kiss sending warmth through both their bodies. While Emma slid her hands up his chest, Mat’s dropped to her thighs, his grip a bit tighter and moving a bit higher than where it had been on the way home.

Mat hummed into the kiss when her hands slid back to his neck, her fingers instantly moving into his thick hair and curling into fists. Their tongues met in a slow slide against each other, sending a wave of want crashing between Emma’s thighs, as she moaned into the kiss – not even embarrassed at the sound, simply just wanting his lips on hers, or anywhere else on her body – that’d be fine too, and his hands roaming. Mat could feel his pants getting tighter with every kiss they shared and Emma seemed to get more impatient; little moans slipping past her lips, her fingers clenching in his hair, doing everything she could to press herself closer to him, only to be stopped by the center console. Mat reached for the little button on the side of his seat, taking his seat the last few inches back.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, not pulling far away, her lips still moving against his while she spoke.

“Just come here,” he hummed, kissing her hard but quick as he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and the other sliding across her back to curl around her waist. He pulled her body closer to his before he simply lifted her over the center console with very little help and effort from Emma, letting her straddle his lap. That in itself had Emma grinding her hips down onto his immediately, making a groan escape his throat in unison with the moan she pressed against his mouth.

“Fuck, Em,” Mat said, groaning into her kiss, his hands on her hips as she ground against him. The shortened version of her name falling from his lips along with his hardening member under her, hit her perfectly between her legs whenever she rolled her hips over his, and it was pushing her further along the road to desperation. His hands moved slowly up her sides as their lips slotted together, so slowly it nearly had Emma placing her hands on his to push them to where she wanted them most. He pulled away from her lips, his own glistening and swollen as he looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. Emma looked back at him with the same look on her face, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Mat’s attention was caught, his hands finally covering her breasts. He kissed her deeply, but only for a few seconds before he started a trail down the side of her neck as Emma pushed her hair back out of the way for him.

“Let me take you out on a date,” he spoke, his lips moving against the sensitive skin right beneath the line of her jaw. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other stayed on her boob, massaging it in his hand. Emma’s neck craned back to let him have as much space as possible, her hand fisted in his dark curls.

“I thought this was a date,” She breathed, her body pressing against his, desperate to be with him – desperate to have him naked against her, desperate for him to be inside her.

“No,” he said, shaking his head against her as he kept leaving kisses down her neck. Emma moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She rolled her hips into his and she could feel him fully hard beneath her. She was sure the particularly nice thong she’d decided to wear was soaked through.

“You don’t have to take me out first – before you fuck me,” she moaned, clenching her fist in his hair. The words falling from her mouth along with the pull of his hair had Mat groaning and pulling back from where he’d been leaving kisses on her skin.

“I’ll take you out – tomorrow,” he said, making Emma swallow hard. He really wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t know how to deal with the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. They were both breathing hard.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she sighed, brushing her nose against his. Matt chuckled, kissing her lightly, but long enough to leave a tingle on her lips.

“I’m sure you can feel what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her against him. A breathy moan fell from her lips, making a soft smile tug on his.

“I’m so wet right now, I’ll probably leave a mark on your pants,” Emma told him, not even embarrassed about it. He was wearing a pair of dark green cargo pants that did wonders for both his ass and his thighs, so no, she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about leaving a mark on them. Not when he was making her feel like this.

“You can’t just say that,” he groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Emma smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, towards his abs. Mat locked his gaze to her fingers, following them down his torso all the way until it slipped under his t-shirt. He looked up at her again as her hand flattened out over his abs.

“And you can’t just look like this, and kiss me like that, and expect me to not be wet for you,” she dared, feeling brave and risky now. She was horny, and she’d practically begged for him to fuck her already, so she had nothing to lose. This time it was Mat who smirked.

“What made you decide to wear this dress tonight?” he asked, his smirk turning cocky as his hands moved from her hips to her thighs. Emma smiled, looking out the window for a second to compose herself.

“I like the way it fits around my hips,” she grinned. He somehow managed to look even more smug than he already was with his fingers curling around the side of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer.

“So, you did this on purpose?” he asked then, his hands moving back to her hips, but this time under her dress. His thumb rubbing back and forth on a spot right beneath one of the double bands on her thong, and then slipping under it just to tease.

“I did – I even put on nice underwear for you,” she said. He could hear the hitch in her breath when he pulled his thumb away and let the band smack back on her skin.

“You’re not even wearing a bra,” he smirked, having already figured that out when she climbed into the car hours ago now and he’d sure gotten it confirmed when he had his hands on her earlier, only feeling the thin material between his hands and her boobs.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing a nice pair of undies, though,” she smirked back, finding his smug expression faltering just a little bit. With his attention fully on her, Emma moved her hand out from under his shirt, finding the hem of her dress instead and lifting it just enough for him to see the white lace covering her most intimate part, and the two bands sitting high on her hips.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, letting his hands fall back down to her thighs, his thumb sliding underneath the lacy fabric. He looked up to meet her stare, keeping eye contact as the finger slipped further down to where the material was actually soaked. Pushing the thong to the side, he let his finger slide through her slit, watching her as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed.

“I thought you had to take me on a date first,” she breathed, letting her head fall to rest her forehead against his, her fingers finding their place in his hair again.

“That was just before fucking you,” he smirked, though through his tone it was clear that he was nearly as affected as she was. Emma moaned as he slipped closer to her hole, almost falling against him. Their noses brushed against each other and their lips met just as he slid one long finger into her. The desperate moan vibrating against his lips sent blood rushing towards his dick, even if he’d been hard for a long time already and he could feel himself twitching in his pants. The moan that followed when he pressed another finger into her had him wondering what sounds she was going to make when he’d get to push his length into her. He would’ve fucked her right there in the front seat of his car if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. But there was the fact that he didn’t want to have sex with her for the first time in his car in her parents’ driveway. He wasn’t really much of a romantic, but he’d like to take his time with her – in a bed.

“Fuck, Mat,” she groaned, her lips capturing his before she pushed her tongue against his. Oh, what she’d do to have his tongue between her legs right now. Mat loved the way she said his name, and he looked forward to hearing her moan it again as he placed his thumb on her clit and started rubbing circles. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, her juices running down his fingers and making him want nothing more than to lick it all up. Her mouth fell open as he curled his fingers inside of her, her head falling back as a string of moans left her lips.

“Just want to taste you, baby,” he mumbled as she gasped at the loss of his fingers, her eyes heavy as she followed them into his mouth, his lips locking around the two long fingers dripping with her arousal. The pet name sent another wave crashing through her body, and that, along with the sight of Mat licking her juices off his fingers, had her falling forward, her lips and tongue against his as soon as his fingers were pushing back inside her. The taste of herself mixed with what she learned was the taste of Mat, was something she could definitely get used to.

“Oh my god,” she moaned against his lips, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her too much, yet far from enough all at the same time. She pulled away from his kiss and immediately reached for the straps of her dress that were tied in little bows on her shoulder, tugging at their ends and letting the front fall down to expose her bare chest.

“It’s too fucking hot in here,” she whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Mat’s lips hung slightly open, lips burning red and and glistening from kissing her. His eyes were dark and lustful, alternating between her face and her naked chest, her pink nipples begging him to touch them.

“You are unbelievable,” he mutters, more so to himself than to Emma. She grins, unsure if it’s her body or her persistence he’s referring to, but happy with herself either way. She grips his t-shirt in her fist and pulls him closer, pushing up on her knees in order to let him fit his mouth around her nipples. The moans erupting from her throat were so desperate that she’d normally be embarrassed, but she was desperate and she couldn’t care less in that moment.

“Fuck, Emma,” he cursed again. She’d started meeting him halfway as she fucked herself onto his fingers, meeting his knuckles as he thrusted the length of his fingers into her.

“You’re really making me do this, huh?” He asked, more so rethorically. His words were barely audible as he dragged his lips from one of her boobs to leave a trail of wet kisses up to her collarbones.

“What?” Emma breathed, too focused on the feeling that was filling her body and gathering into a big ball of pleasure in her lower stomach, begging to explode.

“You’re making me break my promise, baby,” he whispered, his lips having made their way up her neck, stopping right beneath her ear. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside her. Never before had he wanted something so badly. Sure, he could make her come with his fingers, and she would be somewhat satisfied, but the way she was begging for him? It did things for his ego that he couldn’t really explain and he needed to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted. He’d never felt so wanted by anyone. And truthfully, it was starting to hurt with how incredibly hard she was making him.

“Fuck, really?” She nearly cried, gasping as he pulled his fingers out of her. His fingers were wet with her arousal, but neither of them cared when he placed both hands on her hips and pushed back on his thighs. He nodded to answer her question.

Emma hurried to get her hands on the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper as fast as she could. Simultaneously, Mat slipped his thumbs into both his pants and his boxers, ready to pull them down as soon as she’d gotten them open. Emma cursed again as his erection finally sprung free and slapped against his abs - his t-shirt having ridden up ages ago.

“Fuck, Emma, come here,” he begged, reaching out to grab her hip to pull her closer with the one hand and finding the button on the side of his seat, reclining it in order to make the ordeal easier. It would’ve been easier to move to the backseat, or just sneak into Emma’s bedroom, but right now this just needed to happen as fast as possible. He needed to be inside her as fast as possible.

“Oh god,” Emma breathed as she maneuvered her legs in the tight space, watching him spit into his hand before wrapping it around his dick and lathering it up.

“Come,” he demanded, and Emma felt herself fall towards him. Her hands found his sturdy shoulders and she lifted herself up from his lap for him to finally line himself up with her opening.

“Fuck, Mat,” she sighed as he pulled her underwear aside and let his tip run through her slit. They both moaned in relief as she finally sunk down onto him.

“I just need you to know- fuck,” Mat started, but interrupted himself as she lifted herself off of him before quickly sinking back down. Emma wanted nothing more than to cover his lips with hers and just get lost in it, but it seemed like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I want you, in every single way,” he went on, stopping to breathe and curse to himself. His hands had found their way back to her, one hand on her hip and the other was gripping her ass, helping her keep a steady rhythm as she rode him.

“Not just like this. But god do I want this, too,” he managed to tell her. Emma’s lips spread into a wide smile, feeling full in every single sense of the word.

“Me too, Mat, me too,” she agreed, leaning her forehead to his and very willingly complying when he pressed his lips to hers. Everything that had happened between them up until then had happened fast, and so had this. But Emma knew it was right, even if it was absolutely terrifying at the same time. Emma’s fingers fisted into the thick locks of hair on the back of his head, and their tongues finally met. They made out desperately as their hips met repeatedly, Mat planting his feet into the floor of the car to be able to meet her hips every single time she came sinking down on him.

“I’m so close, Mat,” Emma sighed, adjusting her feet on the side of the seat to be able to up her speed.

“Me too, baby,” Mat agreed, letting his head fall back to watch her as she sat spread out on top of him, her chest glistening with sweat and her arousal having spread out on her inner thighs and Mat, too. One of her legs were extended over the middle console and into the passenger seat and that way Mat could see the way he was buried inside her, how he was covered in her juices. His thumb found its way to her clit and he watched her close her eyes in pleasure, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.

“Oh, god, now,” she cried, pushing herself forward to fall against him again. They’d never done this before, but somehow Mat knew what she meant. His arms wound around her, holding her close to him, as he thrusted up into her with all the power he had as she moaned and clawed herself to him - leaving marks on his shoulder as she finally came. He didn’t let go himself until he could hear her moans slowing down and coming to an end.

“Fuck, Mat, that was just… Wow,” Emma managed to say, still breathing heavily. She lifted her head from where she’d collapsed into his shoulder, a wide smile spreading on her lips when she pulled back and saw the one already on his lips.

“I know, I’m… I’m glad we did that,” he admitted, even though he had been so adamant on waiting til after he’d taken her on a date.

“Me too,” Emma laughed, relaxing into his lap again. The feeling of his softening dick inside her was warm and comfortable.

“To be fair, I really thought that was a date,” she grinned and Mat shook his head with an embarrassed smile on his lips. A blush crept up his already pink neck - Emma might not be able to see it with how hot they both were, but he could feel the blush settle on his neck and cheeks.

“It was supposed to be, but when I saw you this morning I just didn’t have the balls to call it that,” he admitted, his hands were running up and down the outside of her thighs as they spoke.

“You didn’t have to call it that, Mat. You didn’t have to say the word date for me to understand that the guy who’s been flirting with me for weeks and even told me that he wants to take me on a date and then fuck me, is asking me on a date when he’s asking me to come watch the fucking sunset at the beach. Like, I thought we’d established that I am quite smart a long time ago,” Emma laughed, and Mat had to cover his face with his hands as he laughed along. She was right, it definitely sounded like a date.

“So, if it makes you feel better, we can just say that it was a date,” she shrugged, smiling that gorgeous smile that Mat had been falling for every single time he’d seen her since he was assigned seats next to her in high school.

“Okay, fine. But I’m still taking you out tomorrow,” he grinned.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Emma mirrored his smile, leaning forward to press her lips to his again.

“I meant it though, what I said about wanting everything, not just sex,” he reminded her, struggling to keep eye contact as he said it. It was important to him that she knew how he felt. She was more than just a one time thing.

“I know, Mat. Me too,” she said, kissing him once more.

“But I really do want the sex, too,” he smiled cheekily, making Emma throw her head back laughing.

“Me too,” she agreed, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

#More than a Vancouver sunset #Mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fanfiction #Mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #New York islanders imagine #Hockey #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey imagine #Definitely not writing a barzal fic

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chickensarentcheap · 6 months

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In a Heartbeat- Chapter Five

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY: Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began. In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be. And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.

Warnings: brief mention of sex toys and kinks (butt plugs, dildos, pegging. But not in the way you think lol)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129441475

My tag list is OPEN. Please just ask to be added if you'd like :D

****

“Okay…” Slipping off his coat, Tyler surveys his surroundings, greeting a waiting and ecstatic Lucy with a vigorous rub of the head. “...now it’s all starting to make sense.”

Esme sets both the wheeled suitcase and duffle bag by the door, then drops her hobo-style handbag on the kitchen table. “What’s making sense?”

“Why none of those pictures from the ‘net showed the inside of this place.”

Shrugging out of her jacket, she removes her beanie and tosses both aside; shaking out her long, dark tresses before placing her hands on her hips and surveying their surroundings. “It’s not THAT bad. It’s quaint. Cozy. Cute.”

“You realize that’s wood panelling on the walls, yeah?”

“Okay, so it kind of reminds me of my grandparents’ basement. Which they haven’t remodelled since the early seventies. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve LIVED in worse.”

“Is this where you tell me about your time in some rat-infested dump in New York City?”

“New York isn’t as horrible as you make it out to be. I would have given up an organ, even a limb, to land something right in the city. A walk-up apartment in an old brownstone. That was always my dream. To have a cute little place like Carrie Bradshaw’s.”

“Who?”

“Carrie Bradshaw. The main character in Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker? She’s married to Matthew Broderick? You know, the guy who was Ferris Bueller?”

“I have no goddamn clue who any of these people are.”

“You’ve never heard of Sex and the City? Have you been living in a cave? Cooking over an open fire? Throwing random women over your shoulder and carrying them back for sexy time?”

Smirking, he removes his beanie. “That’s how I landed you, wasn’t it?”

“You landed me with your pretty blue eyes and your sexy voice and your big dick.”

“You’re nothing if not honest.”

“Carrie is a writer,” Esme continues, holding the back of a kitchen chair to keep it steady as he lowers himself into it. “She writes about relationships and sex and life in the Big Apple. And she’s got her little posse; Miranda, the fiercely independent lawyer, Charlotte the die-hard romantic, longing to find true love, Samantha the big-time slut who loves men just a little too much. She was my favourite, by the way.”

“Makes sense. What’s that saying? Something about birds of a feather flocking together?”

She scowls. “Well, that’s just plain rude.”

“If you ask me, the show sounds like it’s for girls.”

“Plenty of men loved it. Mostly gay men, but…” Retreating to the middle of the living room, she places a hand on her hip, eyes narrowing as she taps the tip of her index against her lips.. “...I see the potential here. It’s not a lost cause. And it’s definitely not hideous. It’s just…”

“It’s ugly, and you know it.”

“Dated. It’s dated.”

“It’s not a person. You can say what you really feel. You can’t hurt its feelings.”

“I thought you, of all people, would love something like this. This is a five-star resort compared to where you were living when I met you.”

“I’ll have you know that I built that place myself. By hand.”

“And I’m extremely proud of you, and I find it very sexy when a man is great with his hands. In all the best possible ways. But babe, you had no interior walls, most of your windows didn’t close properly, and you had chickens as roommates. Believe me, this is a step up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s a ‘no’ to chickens in the house. Kinda ruins my plans.”

“As much as I’d rather NOT be constantly picking up their shit, I’ll deal. Only because I know how much you love the mangey little bastards. But they are NOT sleeping in bed with us.”

“What about night’s you’re not here?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll encounter nights like those, but IF it happens? You better make sure you change the damn sheets before I get home. You totally slept with your chickens before you met me, didn’t you. You totally let them in the bed.”

“Once in a while.”

“So which one of you was the little spoon? Or did you alternate every second night?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a really smart mouth?”

“No. But I have been told how extremely talented it is.”

“That I CAN’T argue with. I definitely have no complaints.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen to them. So…” Tugging playfully on his ears, she lays a hand on the nape of his neck and steps around to the side of the chair. “...what do you think? About this place? I know it isn’t as bougie as you’re used to, but…”

Reaching under the bottom of her shirt, he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulls her down onto his left thigh. “It’s tolerable. For now.” Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hand moves to her stomach, calloused palm flat against warm, smooth skin. “Until we’re able to get around to doing stuff.”

“Nik says it’s all ours. We can do whatever we want with it. I know it’s not going to be a permanent place for us, but…”

“I mean, it could be. If that’s what you wanted.”

“I just assumed you’d want to go home. That we’d end up in Australia.”

“We can end up wherever you want. I have no ties to ANY place. Just say where you want to go, and that’s where we’ll head.”

“It’s definitely something we’ll have to talk about. I can’t really decide something like THAT all on my own. You need to have a say in it, too. It’s not just me that deserves to be happy.”

“I’m happy as long as you are. Just say where you want to go. We’ll go.”

“As cute and sappy as that is…”

“You did NOT just use the c and the s word to describe me. In the SAME sentence.”

“...we both know it doesn’t work that way. That if you just follow me somewhere with no say, things would not end well. So we’ll talk about it. When we’re ready to make a decision like that. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Goddamn, you’re difficult.”

“I thought I was being pretty easy and reasonable. What more do you want from me?”

“We both need to do a lot of work when it comes to being in a relationship.”

“Please don’t suggest therapy. I’ve had enough therapy in the past two months to last me a lifetime.”

“No therapy. I might get you to read some self-help books or listen to some podcasts…”

“Get off me.”

“That’s a request you usually don’t make,” she quips, then laughs and tightens her hold on him when he attempts to push her off his lap. “Baby, you’re so cute. Even when you’re being a grumpy shit.”

He smirks. “Fuck off, Esme.”

“You need a nap.” Placing a kiss on his temple, she affectionately tousles his hair and stands. “Or something to eat. Maybe both. Are you hangry, Tyler James? Are you hangry and sweepy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around and then make us something to eat. And you’ve got meds to take. You’re due.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what the doctor said. About making sure you keep on schedule. If you don’t do that…”

“The pain will really set in, and it’ll be harder to get rid of it. I was there. I heard him.”

“Then quit being so difficult. You don’t need to be an insufferable asshole twenty-four-seven.”

“Yes, I do. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Believe me, your reputation isn’t going anywhere. Not everyone can survive what you did. I think you cemented your legend status.”

“By the way, how does that make you feel about things?”

She pauses in the doorway of the spare bedroom. “What things?”

“Life, in general. Knowing you’re spending your life fucking a legend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? Considering I haven’t fucked him since he got the title.”

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he snatches the discarded beanie from the middle of the table. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“Now THAT I do know.” She laughs as she effortlessly dodges the hat thrown in her direction. “Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll make something to eat. You won’t starve in the meantime.”

“You’re actually going to subject me to your cooking the first day in?”

Scowling, she disappears into the second bedroom. Several seconds passing before just her hand appears in the doorway in order to flip him the middle finger.

His fingers alternate between slipping through Lucy’s short, smooth fur and scratching her favourite spot directly under her chin. Listening as Esme’s feet -clad in thick, mismatched woollen socks move over the weathered and creaking floorboards. Hearing intermittent soft clicking and the sliding of wood against wood as she inspects dresser and nightstand drawers. And when it finally falls silent, he calls out to her. “Anything interesting?”

“Whoever lived here before us were total freaks! I just found a whole load of gigantic dildos in the bedside table! And one of those harnesses a woman wears. You know, when she does her man up the…”

“Esme…”

“I don’t see any lube though. I guess we’re not trying pegging tonight.”

“Don’t even THINK about it.”

“What would you say if I came to bed and had a butt plug in with a raccoon’s tail hanging off it?”

“I’d call you a freak and kick you out onto the couch.”

She gives a disgruntled, dramatic huff, then appears in the doorway. “You’re boring.”

“You certainly weren’t saying that two nights ago when we almost got caught by the night nurse. While you were giving me…”

“Like, no pegging with giant dildos and no raccoon tail butt plugs? I swear, a girl can’t have ANY fun.”

“If that’s your idea of fun, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Don’t worry, big boy.” She shoots him a wink as she pads through the small, open-concept living room and kitchen. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You even come near me with one of those things…”

“I was joking. I didn’t find a damn thing. Which is incredibly disappointing. I was hoping some eccentric weirdo lived here before and left some wild shit behind.”

“Have you looked around this place? The panelling? Fucking knick-knacks all over the place? A goddamn deer head on the wall? Does any of that scream eccentric weirdo do you?”

“It could have been to throw off visitors. Convince innocent, unsuspecting people that they were completely normal. You know, so they could drug their coffee and tea in order to knock them out and hide them in their sex dungeon!”

“I think it’s safe to say that no one normal lives here NOW. Well, one of us might be considered somewhat sane.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a psycho.”

She opens the door to the main bathroom and pokes her head inside. Fingernails tapping against the wall as she makes approving noises and comments about the brand new shower, tub, sink, and toilet. Then proceeds to curse and grumble about having to DEFINITELY change the flooring and the colour of the walls.

“I think we both know I’m the only somewhat normal one around here.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She moves to the master bedroom, mere seconds passing before she gives a loud gasp. “Oh my god….TYLER!”

“Let me guess, you found the sex dungeon.”

“Even better!” She appears in the doorway, eyes sparkling and dancing as she gives an excited squeal and bounces up and down on her heels. “It’s bigger than I expected!”

“Didn’t you say those exact words in Dhaka? The first time I dropped my pants?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That you exceeded even MY lofty expectations.”

“What did you find? I swear if it’s anything remotely related to me taking something up the ass…”

“Nothing like that! You need to see it! It’s enormous!”

“You don’t have another guy stashed in there, do you?”

“I can barely handle the one I already have. Why would I want the extra stress? Seriously, come and see this.”

“I know what a bedroom looks like.”

“It’s not just the room that’s bigger and better than I thought it would be! It’s the bed! It takes up so much space, and there’s still lots of room to spare. Please just come and take a look? Because I asked so nicely? Pretty please? I know how much you love to make me happy.”

“For someone so tiny, you’re an enormous pain in my ass,” he grumbles, yet shoots her a wink. A hand on the table top as he slowly pushes himself up onto his feet; fighting back a wince as even the most careful of movements bring almost unbearable agony. Too much time spent on his ass during the flight and the long drive from Vienna to the cabin; his knee feeling tight and swollen and in desperate need of relief.

“As soon as we eat, you put your leg up,” Esme informs him, as he joins her in the doorway. “It’s not good to go this long without elevating it. And you WILL take your meds.”

“While I’d normally argue with you and tell you I’m fine…”

“That’s how I know it’s bad. You’re NOT giving me a hard time.”

“I’ll be okay. Just he assures her, and places a hand on the back of her neck, his lips meeting her temple as his fingers massage the stiff, tight muscles. “Just need to rest it.”

For months she’s held onto an enormous amount of stress and tension; those long, trying days and nights spent at his bedside, fighting back against the doctors who had already declared him a lost cause and wanted to just pull the plug. But she’d held on there despite the pressure dumped upon her, digging her heels in even further and refusing to break to their demands. They weren’t using him as a sacrifice to the healthcare system Gods; they’d have to find another way to ‘free up a bed’.

“She’s going to break sooner or later,” Nik had warned him just days before his release. “She’s been shouldering all of this for three quarters of a year. I’ve been around some very tough people, but none as tough as THAT. She can’t keep it up, Tyler. She just can’t. We all break at one point or another. And when her time comes, you’re going to have to be there for her. Because she’ll need you. So you better be sure that you’ll step up.”

One of her tiny hands falls on the small of his back as he sticks his head into the master. “What do you think? It’s huge, right?”

“Definitely bigger than I expected. The room AND the bed.”

She playfully smacks his ass, grinning up at him as she tightly squeezes a cheek through the fabric of his pants. “You know how much I love a large playground.”

“Speaking of playtime, when do I get my surprise?”

“Patience is a virtue, old fella.”

“For who?”

“The virtuous, I guess. Besides, I thought you were hungry. And tired. And sore.”

“I am. I’m all three of those. But…” He hastily removes the sling from his left arm, tearing open the velcro fasteners and tossing the object onto the dresser. Not giving her a chance to respond, he grabs hold of her hips and uses his much larger, heavier frame to propel her backwards into the room.

“We’re really going to give it a go, are we? Right this second?”

“No time like the present. I’ve been wanting to give it a go since we left the hospital. Even BEFORE that. I was going to say something on the plane; about joining the mile-high club, but…”

“Been there, done that.”

He frowns, pausing as he leans in to kiss her, their lips a hair’s width apart.

“You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler Rake.”

“Did he teach you anything good?”

“He taught me a few things.” Her hands slide up the front of his henley shirt, chestnut eyes locked on brilliant blue as she softly drags the nails of her index across his stomach. Beginning their lazy journey at his belt buckle and finally finishing at each of his hips. “Who do you think is responsible for this mouth being so talented?”

“As much as I hate even thinking about you with other guys, I want his name and address. So I can send him a thank you card. And a case of beer. You know, just a small token of gratitude.”

“And seeing as he didn’t give a shit about what I needed to feel good, I figured I’d let you teach me the rest.”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be. I’ve already let you go where no man has ever dared to go before.”

“Only because you asked me if I would. Can’t believe it only took two days.”

“What can I say…” She catches him off guard by pushing him backwards, pinning him between her body and the dresser as she aggressively yanks open his belt. “...you have that effect on me.”

“I realize I’m still hurting, and I got a long way to go, but don’t think for a second you get to be the boss. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Who are you kidding?” She pops open the button on his pants. “I’m always the boss.”

Smirking, he snatches her by the throat, fingers lightly pressing into the soft, delicate flesh as he pushes her towards the bed. And she gives a gasp of surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, giggling when she loses her balance and topples backwards.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. a slow grin spreading from ear to ear as she watches him quickly dispose of both knee brace and pants and hastily toss them into the nearest corner. “No underwear, huh? You WERE hopeful.”

“Easy access. For both of us.”

“Even in this weather. I’m surprised your balls didn’t freeze off. That would have been a goddamn Greek tragedy.”

“They’re still a little. If you can warm them up. It’ll keep you quiet for a while.”

“Kinky.” She laughs when he grabs hold of the bottom of her jeans; falling backward when he aggressively pulls her towards him. “You ARE eager.”

“Things are working. You said yourself, it’s been hit or miss. Well, right now it's a hit, so…” He yanks both the denim and her skimpy lace underwear over her hips and ass and down her legs. “...let’s not waste time. Just in case.”

“Aren’t you even going to wait? For me to get your surprise on?”

“Nope.” He shoves her thighs open. “Right now, I don’t care. We’ll do that later.”

“Two times in one day? Someone is feeling awful cocky.”

“It’s my cock that’s feeling something. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling it soon too.”

She opens her mouth to respond but quickly bites down on the bottom lip as he makes his way up her body; a mixture of calloused palms, the roughness of his beard, and the press of warm, soft lips. Thick fingers -with their various scars and misshapen knuckles- digging into the back of her thighs as he licks, sucks, and nibbles his way along the insides of her legs. And though disappointed when he ignores the most desperate and aching of parts, she still manages a giggle when he pulls her surgical steel navel ring into his mouth and lightly yanks at it with his teeth.

No one has ever worshipped her the way he does. The attention and focus he displays while paying homage to her body; the fire in her very bones and nerves growing in intensity with every swipe of his tongue and suckle of his lips and every caress and group of her hands. Selfless and never selfish, even when his own wants and needs are profound and overwhelming. Forever paying keen attention to the way she responds to him. Learning through every sigh and moan, every flinch and shiver, the differences in tone and pitch when she says his name. And somehow always knowing exactly what she needs.

By the time he reaches her lips, she’s desperate for so much more, nails raking across his shoulders and down his back, hips continuously rising to meet his in an unspoken request. When he finally kisses her, she moans into his mouth, and her hands find his hair; her fingers immediately tunnelling through the longer strands as she responds eagerly and hungrily. But when he pulls away to look down at her, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that she isn’t prepared for. An affection and adoration that softens his features and enables her to truly ‘see’ him for the first time. And suddenly, he seems far removed from the hardened and highly skilled mercenary that she had initially fallen in love with. Instead replaced by a previously broken and haunted man who’s in the midst of the most important transformation of his entire life.

The healing of both body AND mind.

“I love you.”

It brings tears to her eyes. The sincerity in those three simple, yet powerful words.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

The sob escapes her before she has the chance to bite it back, and she quickly finds herself gathered into strong arms and a broad chest. His body is warm and hard against hers, and his hands are steady yet comforting as they lovingly stroke her hair and repeatedly caress her back.

It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. Completely unlike anything she’s ever known or experienced. He’s reliable. Protective. Making her feel safe and secure in ways no one else ever has.

And in that moment, she’s sure of one thing. She’s never been loved like this, either.

*****

He feels sleepy and content as he lounges on the couch; his bad leg -once more sporting the knee brace- stretched out, foot resting on the coffee table. Both body and mind sated by a successful -if not disappointingly short- love making session that ended up more slow and tender than he’d originally anticipated. It had been followed by a hot shower and a surprisingly good meal that Esme had been incredibly proud of; a simple pasta and meat sauce dish paired with salad and garlic toast. Now he alternates between watching football and listening to his girlfriend as she busies herself in the kitchen. Lucy refusing to leave her side; more than pleased with the morsels of food she’d been slipped under the table. And with the seemingly endless amount of ear rubs and hair ruffles and chin scratches that are passed her way.

It’s the most relaxed he’s been in years. The warmth of the fire as snow trickles down outside, the rattling of dishes and silverware, and the way Esme alternates between humming as she works and talking to Lucy in a quiet, motherly way. The fear is starting to fade; the realization setting in that not only this is his life now, but he’s good with it. Not entirely accepting of the fact he’s retired; remaining somewhat concerned about where he goes -professional speaking- from here. But he feels safe and secure in the knowledge that knowing that Esme is under the same roof. Wanting and needing him. Loving him.

“I don’t have anything else, my love,” Esme addresses the dog sprawled out at her feet. “At least none of what you really want. Do you want a cookie? Auntie Nik got them just for you. I bet they’re delicious. Let’s get you a cookie.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her move across the room, her hair still loose and flowing and nearly reaching the middle of her back. Her tiny frame clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of the plaid shirts she’d poached from his side of the closet. And he finds himself amused by the way she has to stand on her tiptoes to get the container of dog biscuits off the second shelf in the cupboard.

“Tyler…”

“Yeah?”

“This d…o…g won’t stop eating.”

“Why did you spell that out?”

“Because I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her. It might give her a complex.”

“Your logic is…astounding.”

“Even animals have feelings. I mean, you’re the biggest one of all, and you’ve been all up in your feels lately.”

“Esme?”

She glances towards him.

Without looking away from the television, he holds up his right hand and flips her the middle finger.

“Well, that’s just rude, isn’t it Lucy? Just plain rude.”

“She’s a traitor. That’s your dog now. She’s made that perfectly clear. Hasn’t left your side since before dinner.”

“Well, if we want to get technical, she’s OUR dog now. But I’m sure she still loves you best. Daddy’s still your favourite, isn’t he? You could never love anyone the way you love him. I’ll let you in on a little secret; I feel the exact same way about him.”

He smiles. “You BOTH have horrible taste in men.”

“Excuse you? I’ll have you know that my taste in me is impeccable. Well, at least NOW it is. I didn’t have to kiss too many frogs before I got to my prince, but the ones I DID have to kiss? Ewwww.” Giving Lucy a final pet, she fills the kettle and plugs in it, completing her tidying of the kitchen and then making a coffee for him, a tea for herself. Starting her journey into the living room, she pauses by the front door; spotting the small cardboard box he’d set down earlier. “What’s this?”

He casts a glance in her direction. “Just some stuff from my old place. That Nik and Yaz packed up.”

“That’s all they brought?”

“That and some clothes.”

“Where’s the rest?”

“What rest? You saw my old place. What more was there for them to bring?”

“What’s in it?”

“Just some personal shit. From back in the day. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s really none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck. He really needs to pay more attention to the tone of his voice when speaking to her. He’s always been straight to the point; never dragging things out or sugar coating them. While it had suited him well in both military and mercenary life and had, it had unfortunately been one of the many issues that eventually sunk his marriage. Esme deserves better; she’s sensitive and feels and loves so deeply and profoundly. And, like her need to give and want affection, it’s yet another thing he needs to get used to. “I just meant that it’s nothing serious. I’d tell you if it was.”

She doesn’t pursue it. Either not as hurt at his reaction as he had thought she would be, or just deciding to pick her battles. But she greets him with a smile when she joins him, setting their mugs down on the coffee table and then accepting the hand he offers her and dropping down beside her.

Releasing her hand, he wraps his arm around her, he pulls her tightly against him, his hand resting on her hip as he presses a kiss to her temple. She smells so damn good; that mixture of coconut, honey, and milk that he’d first discovered in Dhaka and had been so enthralled. It’s simple and unassuming; a cheap shampoo that she’d found in a corner store in Prague just hours before Nik had brought her to Australia. And she’d been so taken aback by his genuine compliments about the scent, that she’d decided never to use anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches for the coffee and hands it to them, then picks up her tea. “For what?”

“I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded. When you asked about the box. It’s not it’s not your business. It’s just…” Shrugging, he sips at his drink. “...nothing you’d be interested in. Or at least, I don’t think you’d be.”

“I’m interested in YOU. In your life. Especially the one that came before me. I know it wasn’t a utopia by any stretch of the imagination, and you’ve been through some shit, but if you ever WANT to share, I’m good with it.”

“Same goes for you, yeah? If you ever just want to tell me about things? I don’t want you holding back because you think it’s going to piss me off. Even if hearing about your ex and the shit he did might make me feel homicidal.”

“And he’d deserve it. If you got a hold of him and broke every bone in his body.”

“I wouldn’t just stop there. I wouldn’t be able to. And a lot of places to stash him afterwards. Where no one would ever find him.”

“As much as I appreciate and love you for wanting to avenge me, I also don’t want to bring him into this. Into our life together. I don’t want him tarnishing things. Ruining them.”

“He could never do that.”

“Just some things really are better left in the past. Some of the things he did…” She chews on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “...I just can’t talk about those. And that’s not a personal slight against you. It’s not because I feel like I CAN’T you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know. But if you ever DO want to talk about things…”

“Believe, you’d be the first person…the ONLY person…I’d ever go to. I trust Nik and Yaz, but not in the same way I trust you. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I feel the same way about you.”

“You’re my person, Tyler. You’re the one I want to tell things to. Good AND bad. You’re the one I want to share things with. Whether it’s horror stories about my ex or stupid jokes that I’ve gathered up over the years, or things I hear or see when I’m out. I don’t feel that comfortable with anyone else. Not like I do with you.”

“Do you think maybe it has something to do with the fact I’m the one you get naked and do filthy fucking things with?”

“That could play a role,” she laughs, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

They settle into a comfortable, companionable silence, Lucy joining them and lying on the floor in front of the couch; watching the football game as they nurse their drinks, enjoying the warmth from the fire. He realizes that they’re in the midst of the ‘honeymoon phase’; everything seems to flow and co-exist so easily. Able to shut themselves away from the outside world; refusing to allow intrusive thoughts to penetrate the bubble they’ve built around themselves. They’re happy and comfortable; immersed in the ‘getting to know you stage’ outside of the intimate moments. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, their respective quirks and habits. It won’t always be this way. The charm will wear off; they’ll become easily annoyed and agitated as they both attempt to get used to sharing not only their space but their life, with another person.

When their mugs are empty, she places them on the coffee table and then stretches out on the couch. On her side with both arms wrapped around his thigh and her head in his lap.

“Is your team playing?”

His hand settles on her hip. “Yeah. The Western Bulldogs. They’re the ones with the red and blue shirts.”

“Are they winning?”

“By a pretty big margin, actually.”

“This doesn’t look like regular football. It’s nothing like the NFL. These guys are out there just killing each other. And as much as enjoy senseless violence from time to time…”

“This is Australian rules. Nothing like what you’re used to. This is the real deal. Not that wimpy crap they play where you’re from.”

“If we’re able to get sports from Australia, we might be able to get some hockey games. That would be nice. We could watch them together.”

“I don’t like hockey.”

“Have you ever seen a hockey game?”

“Once. That was enough.”

“Tell you what…” She rolls over onto her back “...if you’ll watch some hockey games and learn a bit about it, I’ll do the same with you and your football. Deal?”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”

“You’re going to have to teach me the rules, though. I know nothing about football. ANY kind of football.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already proven to be a pretty fast learner in other areas. I’m impressed with you.”

“Well, you happen to be an excellent teacher. Although I do have one complaint.”

Tyler frowns.

“Things worked so well, I am aching. I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk properly for a couple of days.”

“Just a couple? I’m insulted.”

“Next time, the number will be higher, I promise.”

“I may have been a little….hasty…when it came to going from start to finish.”

“It lasted longer than I thought it would, to be honest.”

“Excuse you?”

“I didn’t mean that as a cheap shot. And I’m already very familiar with your skills and your staying power. But think of everything you just went through; you were clinically dead nine months ago, AND you just spent three quarters of a year in the hospital. I know we’ve gotten up to other things, but we haven’t actually done THAT. Given the circumstances, you not lasting that long is to be expected.”

“I don’t know if any of your little speech made me feel any better. It’s embarrassing. I’m thirty-five years old and…”

“You’re thirty-six now. You had a birthday in the midst of everything.”

“That’s it, just go and make things worse. Add another year onto my life.”

“Listen…” Reaching up, she takes hold of his chin. “...there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you realize how close you were? To being six feet under? You shouldn’t even be here. A weaker man? They would have given up. They wouldn’t have fought their way back. And if one of the setbacks to surviving all that is to not last as long as you usually do, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“I’ve lasted longer than since I was fifteen years old.”

“And you’ll go back lasting longer again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I have a problem with it?”

“Not that I could tell. Or that you’re admitting.”

“I have absolutely zero complaints. Except for the whole not being able to walk or sit properly thing. You need to realize that things aren’t going to be like they were. Not for a while, anyway. You’ve come a long way and there’s an even longer way to go. Can’t you just be proud of yourself? For even getting out of that hospital?”

“I only did it for you. You’re the only reason I fought my way back. Why I busted my ass to get back on my feet. If you hadn’t been around…”

“But I WAS. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I knew you had a lot of fight left in you. And I know you’re tired and frustrated, and you think you should be further ahead, but you’re doing way better than anyone ever expected.”

“You expected it. You didn’t give up.”

“I know how strong you are. And I know you in ways all those other people don’t. Even Nik. I wasn’t abandoning you, Tyler. And I would have fought to the bitter end. Until there was some proof you weren’t going to come out of it. So THIS? This whole not lasting as long as normal? It’s actually a huge accomplishment, considering. Think of it that way.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“How do you always find the silver lining in everything? The glass is always half full to you. How…?”

“Because I know what I’ve survived. Not even my worst days come close to what Mark put me through. So guess I’ve just tried to turn my suffering into something positive. I’ve learned to look at the world in a different way.”

“Personally, I think you’re just some kind of freak.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, though. As weird as you are.”

“Admit it, my weirdness was one of the things you found adorable and appealing.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I’ve just learned to accept it and live with it.”

“Well, for what it’s worth? I love YOU. You enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but…”

“Did I say it was up for debate? Did I say you could question things? No. So just…” She places a hand over his mouth. “...shhhh. Stop asking why and stop doubting what you’re worthy of, and just go with it. Can you do that? Just accept it and go with it?”

“I can try.”

“You better,” she warns and then turns her face towards him, her nose pressing into his stomach and her eyes closing. The events of the morning and afternoon quickly catching up to her: the relief that came with finally leaving the hospital, the long flight that had followed, and the drive to the cabin that represented the last leg of their trip to freedom. And then the sex; that effortless transition from hungry, desperate, and impatient to something much more tender and attentive.

Now she’s finally able to relish in the aftermath. Enjoying the hardness of his body and that warmth that radiates from it, his familiar smell and the beat of his heart deep within. Issuing a long, content sigh when one of those enormous, calloused hands is placed upon her cheek; his fingertips softly stroking her forehead while his thumb makes continuous sweeps across her cheek. And just as she begins to feel herself teetering on the edge of sleep, she feels him move against her; the slight shift of his body and the couch cushions as he reaches for the throw on the back of the couch and proceeds to drape it over her. What follows is such a simple, sweet display of care and adoration. A smile playing on her lips as this man -so big and so strong and capable of inflicting so much harm- ever so tenderly tucks and secures the fabric under and around her.

From that moment, she loses all track of time. The stroking of her cheek eventually ceases; his arm becomes limp, and his hand comes to rest upon her hip as sleep finally claims him. His soft snoring and deep rhythmic breathing joining the rattling of the windows as the wind and the snow continue to rage beyond the cabin’s four walls.

*****

When she wakes, it’s to the crackle of the fire and Lucy’s loud snoring, the cattle dog somehow managing to find enough space on the sofa. Rolling onto her back, she gives a loud yawn and a long, languorous stretch. Rapidly blinking her eyes when she’s greeted by the unexpected glow of the couch side lamp.

She watches Tyler in silence. Still in the same spot as when she’d fallen asleep, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he devotes his focus and attention to a game on his cell phone. And it isn’t until she lightly tickles his stomach that he acknowledges her, greeting her with a soft smile as he uses gentle fingertips to clear strands away off her forehead and out of her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Sleep alright?”

Esme nods. “Guess I was just way too warm and cozy. Did you?”

“It was an okay nap. I kinda freaked out a bit, though. When I woke up. I didn’t even remember coming here. I thought I was still in the hospital. So when I didn’t recognize anything…”

“You spent three-quarters of a year there. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have moments like that. Eventually, they’ll go away. Once you get used to being here.”

“Once I realized that you, were YOU, I was alright. I knew I was in a safe place. That everything was going to be okay.”

It’s so sincere and genuine….so unexpected… that it causes a lump of emotion to sit square in her throat. She’s never known anyone quite like him, the strong, silent type that usually doesn’t have much to say, but makes an enormous impact when he does speak. He hides nothing from her. Open and transparent from the beginning of those five days in Dhaka, not just with words, but with facial expressions and body language. Both of them -despite their painful pasts and respective, albeit different, losses- somehow finding a level of trust in one another that neither had experienced before.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re feeling okay? You’ve had enough to eat? You don’t have too much pain? You…”

“Are you really going to do this as soon as you get up? Start worrying?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. It’s who I am. You should be used to it by now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “Would you?”

“I’ve already promised I would. About a million times already. I’m fine, Esme. I mean, other than the fact my left leg and my ass are completely asleep.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.” She attempts to sit up, laughing when a broad, strong forearm prevents her. “You didn’t have to stay here. You could have moved me.”

“I didn’t have the heart to do it. You looked way too cute, lying there like that. You snore, by the way.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do. You snore AND talk in your sleep.”

“Did I say anything interesting?”

“You didn’t incriminate yourself in any crimes if that’s what you mean. You did make a grocery list, though. Toilet paper, milk, ketchup, and cat litter.”

“Bullshit. You’re making that up.”

“I’m telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

“You were NEVER a scout. Who are you kidding?”

“But you did make a grocery list. And those are the things you mentioned. I have no idea where the cat litter comes into play, but…”

“Maybe that was a hint. That we should get a cat.”

“I don’t like cats.”

“How can you not like cats? They’re cute, and they’re furry, and they purr and make biscuits on you. How can you not be into that sort of thing?”

“They smell funny.”

“This coming from a guy that lets chickens freely roam the house. And sleep in the bed!”

“We are NOT getting a cat.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“Please? You won’t even know it’s here. I’ll do all the feeding and the cleaning up and…”

“I don’t want a cat. I’m not a cat guy. Do I look like one to you?”

“Please, you like pussy more than anyone I know.”

“Not that kind, I don’t.”

“I’ll break you. I’ll wear you down. I will get my cat.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’d never go through with. You’d miss me too much.”

“Like a hemorrhoid.” She squeals when he slides a hand between her and the couch and aggressively pinches her ass, then playfully shoves him away and sits up; hands smoothing over her hair and fixing her ponytail. “I have some bad news, by the way.”

“Color me surprised.”

“We have to leave the house sooner than I thought. We need to go into town. Grab a few things.”

“Ketchup, ass tissue, and cat litter?”

“Ice cream. And chocolate. My period is coming soon.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t wonder why I’m suddenly bitchy and bleeding out of my vagina?”

“You’re always bitchy. And you like things rough. Anything can go wrong when you’re…”

“And firewood. We need firewood. Track down some of the pre-cut, bagged stuff. There’s not enough on the porch to even last even a couple of days. It’s how we heat this place, so…”

“Have you taken a look outside? We are surrounded by trees. Which is where firewood comes from. And I already saw an axe out on the front porch.”

“You have one good arm.”

“Which is more than enough to chop firewood. I mean, it’ll take a lot longer than if I had TWO good arms, but…”

“And you have one good leg. You’re going to hurt yourself. Chop your foot off or something. I could always do it. I know how to use an axe.”

“You can lift an axe?”

“Well, maybe not a normal-size one. But a little one.”

“You mean a hatchet?”

“It’s technically a little axe, right? I mean, it’ll take me a couple of days to make any sort of headway, but…”

“And you worry about me hurting myself? I’m just supposed to be okay with you wielding a hatchet? I mean, if you want to do it that badly, you can just come out and help me. Make sure I don’t fuck things up.”

“Oh, right. And then when I annoy you, you’ll chop me into a million pieces and throw me in the woods!”

“I would never chop you up and throw you in the woods.”

“Aww, you big softy. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself; if I wasn’t around anymore. You’d…”

“I’d chop you up and feed you to the dog.”

At the end of the couch, Lucy briefly raises her head, tilting it from side to side before issuing a heavy sigh and returning to her original position.

“You’re an asshole,” Esme grumbles, laughing when she tries to stand but quickly finds two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her back down.

“I'll tell you what, because I don’t want you worrying so much, we will go into town and find bagged firewood.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get enough to last at least a couple of weeks. But once it runs out, you gotta give me a chance, yeah? To try and do things? Because I’m going to go completely fucking nuts doing nothing but sitting on my ass all day.”

“There’s lots of things for you to do. You can go on walks, you can ice fish, you can learn to knit, like Yaz said.”

“Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to get any better by not testing the limits. You need to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I worry about you. I’ve spent nine months taking care of you. In some way or another. And it makes me really nervous; when I think about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Don’t think about those things, then,”

“Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I WILL try. To not worry so much.”

“Thank you.”

Slipping out of his embrace, she climbs into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck and placing her head on his shoulder. And her eyes close as she enjoys both his scent and touch, large hands slipping up the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips repeatedly travelling up and down her spine.

“By the way…” His voice rumbles deep within his chest. “...I’d never do anything horrible to you. Not even remotely.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “I know.”

“Also, I’m ready for my surprise.”

“Jesus…”

“Listen, you said the ‘p word’. That was the trigger.”

Laughing, she pulls back to look at him, fingertips tracing the scar that curves over the bridge of her nose. “You’re like a horny fifteen-year-old stuck in a grown man’s body.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for. Nine months. That’s…”

“A long ass time.”

“I don’t know old timer,” she teases, and playfully ruffles his hair. “Think you can keep up with a youngin’ like me.”

“I don’t know.” One hand slips between them to gently cup her breast, and he feels her shiver against him when his thumb brushes over her nipple. “But I can’t try.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fanfiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fanfiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Drummond-Rake #Esme Rake

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just-a-gamer-daydeamer-girl · 11 months

Text

Bloody Star AU 🩸⭐️ Stardust Crusades stuff

So the way this part opens up is the Cult of Dio finally finding their founders body in the special coffin as well as a special container with a majority of Jonathan’s body that has been preserved in a special box. (Kinda debating if Jonathan would still be alive and aware of what was happening he probably wouldn’t stay alive for much longer or worse, I’m just gonna say he’s dead for now) the cult basically goes “hey let’s try and revive our founder whose body is in remarkably good condition because of the Hamon coffin using the remains of the original Bloody Star Vampire and the new power we discovered called Stands!” And thus the Cult of Dio enters its mad science era.

Basically the final fight will be against a Frankenstein‘s monster thing made out of Dio’s and Jonathan’s parts. Definitely some metal and other stuff in their to prevent the hamon from effecting the vampire parts. Perhaps they stole the info of the experiments data of Joseph that the SWF did in the part 2 era and that furthers their research even more.

This AU Jotaro isn’t as rude or a punk and is a bit leaner, because he mostly lived a mostly solitary lifestyle with his mom in Japan. But he is still very quiet and doesn’t like to show emotion. Although I think he would be a bit of an explorer, wandering the streets at night. He basically becomes a local myth in the city. When he gets his stand he panics and instead of going into a police holding cell he runs into the woods and stays there stubbornly isolating himself (and adding new rumors to his ever growing cryptid stories). His mom does eventually find him but he refuses to go home, snapping at her and calling her an annoying bich for the first time, Star bringing Everything he needs. It’s hard but she had to go home before the sun came up.

Joseph and Alvdol come to help. With the Fortune teller getting Jotaro out of the forest by having him chase him and some encouraging words from his grandfather (little Jojo, I know that your scared of what’s happening, that you may become some kind of monster, but it’s kinda silly to do so because we come from a family of monsters, but we’re all human on the inside, and this new power of yours doesn’t change that one bit) Jotaro heads home.

Yea Joseph and his friends call jotaro Little jojo.

Joseph stays with Holly and Jotaro for a while with Avdol as his bodyguard, because the cult of Dio was acting more suspicious and moving towards his home. He had been able to lead a somewhat normal life and run his own business for a while besides he’s been getting more irritated lately for some reason. But there is no rest for the wicked for the wicked and the cult is waiting and preparing something something Big! And the Kujo household is ironically the best safe house they have. Not many people even know where the Kujos live and you can’t even find their house without knowing how to look for it. The Kujo family is one of Japan’s most hidden secrets. Sadao doesn’t let anyone know he has a family but he loves them all the same.

Jotaro goes out to get some groceries, (cus he is one of the only people in the house that can go outside during the day). His hight does make him stand out but he just pretends he’s a forager visitor only speaking in English. He buys the ingredients for dinner and begins to head home. But on his way back he falls down some stairs because something injured his leg. On high alert after that he accepts the help of some strangers who were around and decided to take the long twisted way home. Some of the groceries would have spoiled but it would be worth the extra caution.

While he is walking home he finds a slip of paper with a message on it in his pocket.

“Today you will burn in the glorious light of life, with my emeralds I will cut you down using my stand.

-Kakyoin Noraki”

Shortly after he processed the information he is thrown into an alleyway, making him cornered. He sees a red headed Japanese boy, wearing some green robes, a circlet with a silver peace in the center and an iconic sun pendant that was essentially the cross for the cult of Dio. He was followed with two people also wearing similar circlets. Jotaro saw green tendrils spreading all around him even above him forming a inescapable web. So yea they fight and they argue during the fight about morality, during the confrontation Jotaro notices that there is something wrong with the other boys eyes.

Jotaro finally wins but something is wrong with his opponent who was knocked out had his eyes shot open and starts spazing. Blood starts dripping from the circlet, namely the center of his forehead. His two companions(?) start grinning sinisterly their circlets are different (basically hamon powered thought remotes) saying that Kakyoin served the order well, he fell to one of the Bloody Stars, they would have to take him on himself. They both get the stuffing beat out of them because they didn’t have stands. Like come on…. I guess they tried to take him on while he was weakened from the fight but still….

Jotaro takes Kakyoin and the remains of the grocery’s back home. They remove the killer circlet with some trouble (similar to the flesh bud) and hand it to the SWF for study, they give the red head some vamp blood (it is great for healing that’s cannon, I mean Joseph was right as rain after the blood transfusion.)

Kakyoin was smug and righteous before but now he just looks haunted…. He doesn’t run away but he is clearly scared and not talking to anyone. He is constantly gripping his sun pendant. Despite the circlet messing with his head he was apparently an genuine worshipper. After being betrayed by members of his own religion and now basically in the presence of their version of the devil and demons, he is not having a good time. Everyone gives him some space and they have him out of the Kujo house hold and into the company on the SWF, he isn’t being held prisoner at all, he can leave any time he wants.

A week pasts and the Jostar family is currently bunking down with minimal contact. It’s now obvious that the cult is doing something BIG.

Then one day Holly just goes feral for some reason, right in the middle of cooking. Jotaro, Joseph and Avdol all do their best to calm her down and constrain without hurting her,Joseph even awakens his stand in the mess but nothing works. Holly actually almost kills Jotaro, it is then her stand awakens and constricts her, vines grapple with any leverage, pulling the kind mother turned savage farther and farther away from her son, tears now falling from her eyes. Finally the stand locks her in a room and binds her hands and legs.

They get the speed wagon foundation to come over quickly and Kakyoin comes along as well. The researchers and the doctors do some research/ try to helpon both Holly without hurting her as well as looking over Jotaro and Joseph. They learn that something is messing with Hollys instincts, she is basically a prisoner of her own mind, whatever this effect is it’s due to the unique bloodline connection the Joestars have (it wasn’t discovered until Holly’s youth, mainly because most parents don’t see their kids grow up in this family) the whole ‘connection’ thing is still pretty mysterious, after confirming that it wasn’t Jotaro and Joseph fault they learn something even scarier, they being effected too. That’s why Jotaro was being more rude, and Joseph being more irritated than usual.

The scientists estimate that in 30 day’s every member of the Jostars would either be overpowered by their body’s instincts or become addicted to feeding on the innocent.

After seeing how scared Jotaro was Kakyoin finally decided to help, “it’s kinda silly and stupid to think anyone is pure evil, we’re to complicated for that, even the devil is a person after all. Just don’t make me regret this,” He tells them about his past, how he and his family were casual worshippers (just go to church on Sundays nothing special that kinda thing he wasn’t going stop his life or make it his entire existence for it) he wasn’t supper hardcore or serious about it. Then one day he gets approached by someone in the church, saying that they knew about hierophant green, and that he had a special power that they called a Stand. Wanting to learn more Kakyoin talked more, they learned a lot about stands, how they worked and others like him. Then they got him to wear the circlet and that forced him to go from a causal worshipper to a full blown zealot willing to die for the cause, they didn’t even see him as a person. He also revealed that the religion had uncovered the corpses of both Dio and Jonathan, about the whole reviving their founder and ‘Purifying’ the bloody stars by studying the original bloodstained Star. The bond of bloodline has been tapped into by the cult.

So yea after learning all that they all decided to stop them from doing anything worse they have to find the lab where the experiments are taking place. Joseph accidentally learns about spirit photography in a fit of rage. They discovered the location (similar to cannon) and Jotaro, Joseph, Avdol, and Kakyoin(he wants to confront the people in his religion) head to Egypt.

But the cult of Dio will not let them taint their holy ground without a fight, they will do what they can to stop the, from reaching their destination.

Thanks for reading ('ω')

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #bloody Star AU #jjba part 3 #jjba kakyoin #jjba joseph #holly kujo #joseph joestar #mohammed avdol #long post

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runwayrunway · 11 months

Text

No. 4 - jetBlue

Last time on Runway Runway, I covered all 19 of the things jetBlue paints on the tails of their planes. That post was by nature of its concept so long that I didn’t actually have time to discuss the livery itself. But I can’t just spend such a long time looking at their planes and not do that, can I? Especially not when they’re at least a sixth of the air traffic where I live.

So, enough buildup. Let’s remember that all those tails are attached to the rest of an airframe.

I really like jetBlue. They’re among my favorite airlines to fly with, and they name their planes things that are funny. I live in a jetBlue focus city and it’s fun seeing all their planes with their varied tails and their ridiculous names parked all around like a flock of extremely silly seagulls. There’s just one problem:

I do not particularly like their livery.

Okay. Here is a jetBlue plane. Relatively normal one. Just picked whichever one I stumbled on first. Painted exactly the same as all their planes have been for the last 23 years. She’s got all the bells and whistles. There’s the billboard logo in a nice legible font with its catchy lowercaseUppercase styling. Text on the tail somehow is the right combination of legible and out of place that it feels like a watermark rather than a part of the livery, but nobody’s perfect. Pleasing combination of blue shades. Ribbon variant of jetBlue’s signature jellybean tails. Definitely an airplane. Doesn’t hurt my eyes to look at.

Mostly white though.

I mean, it could absolutely be worse. Definitely, it could be worse. The fact that there are both light and dark blue shades blends together so if you look from the side you can almost mistake the plane for not being white. It’s still white, though. You can at least see the blue on the belly from the side. It looks clean and intentional. It just...is mostly white with a fully blocked off tail? I don’t know. I feel like maybe the design process was ‘the tails are interesting enough, we should leave the fuselage mostly alone’ but I’m not entirely sure I agree. Yes, it could be overwhelming if the execution was botched, but it could also be better than the way it looks now. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. I think Tex Johnston said that.

Oh, huh, there goes N3104J “Roses are Red, This Plane is Blue” flying right past my house as I type this. I had to check on FR24 to know the registration and all that but I could at least tell she was a jetBlue plane because I could see the blue underside and vague blue of the tail. If she were directly above me I don’t think I would be able to tell her apart from the Delta planes that also come here a lot, but jetBlue’s planes are at least somewhat distinctive from the vantage point of someone in the Northeast US. Mission somewhat accomplished?

It’s just...lacking pizzazz and I would expect more from the airline with a plane named “FuhgeddaBlueDit”. At the same time, it does...it’s certainly designed somewhat. It feels less like they just hopped on the bandwagon and more like they made a design they genuinely thought was the best for them and it happened, by pure coincidence, to be the same thing everyone else was doing. Good equation, bad result, if you will. I think, honestly, she is...

Down in the deep blue...C.

Mmm...yep. Seems like that’s it. I’m done here. Unless...oh, oh no. I remember now. I’m not even close to done.

#tarmac fashion week #runwayrunway blueses it #grade: c #region: north america #region: united states #era: 2000s #era: 2010s #era: 2020s #jetblue #low cost carriers #neelemanverse

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honeyypotato · 2 years

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Hello writer :))))

I would ask for a fluffy with Reinner X female reader, where he meet her for the first time as she stumble on him by accident and he holds her, have a great day or night 💖💖💖

Hello hello anon! Sorry it's been a minute😅

You’re not gonna believe this, but you’re the first request I’ve ever received, so thank you so much! :D This is such a cute idea, I’m def the kind of person who would just smack head first into him like this hajksdfhl

I went with a modern au for this one :) I had an idea and I just had to run with it lol

I hope you like it!! 💕

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Running Into You

Reiner x fem!reader

Tags: Fluff

Word count: 2,730

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Honestly, this week couldn’t get any more awful.

Your car had broken down on Sunday, which wouldn’t have been a big deal if you didn’t live a solid thirty minutes from your job, and the earliest the auto shop could look at it was next Tuesday.

To make matters even worse, this was the fourth day this week your boss had asked you to stay late at work, blabbing on about how one client needed extra of this, and another wanted three dozen copies of that…

But now it was so late that you were the last person out the door, waving a hasty goodbye to the half-asleep security guard at the front desk.

On some extra stroke of very bad luck, you’d had your hand on the exit door when you realized it was pouring outside, and you hadn’t brought your umbrella. You usually knew the forecast, but you hadn’t counted on staying until nearly midnight.

You check your phone; you’d practically memorized the city bus schedule by now out of sheer stress, and you didn’t have time to contemplate the weather. The bus was arriving in ten minutes, and the stop was a good three blocks away at best. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for the storm as you pull your jacket over your head and step out into the rain.

Clutching your jacket and bag tighter to your body, you manage a speed walk through the rain, cursing your office’s policy for workers to wear formal business clothes only. The skirt you were wearing was definitely not meant for any sort of movement beyond sitting in a chair. You weren’t going to get started on your shoes.

You’re halfway to the bus stop when you check your phone and realize you weren’t moving fast enough. As the rain starts to pick up you pull yourself into as much of a jog as possible, trying not to think about how ridiculous you looked with your jacket pulled over your head. Spotting the bus stop in the distance, with its little sheltered bench, you put your head down and break into a run, ignoring the wet fabric of your skirt sticking to your legs. If you could get to the stop before the bus, you had a minute to collect yourself before having to sit in your soaked clothes for the long ride home.

Bright lights shine out of the corner of your eye and you know the bus is arriving. You push yourself to run even faster, and you start to let out a sigh of relief when–

THUD.

Your forehead collides with something firm, but kind of soft. The thing you ran head first into lets out an “Oof.” You stumble backwards, knocked off balance in your less-than-sturdy shoes.

You squeeze your eyes shut, the noise of the rain bleeding into static, preparing to meet the wet pavement behind you when you’re surrounded by warmth. The impact with the ground never comes. Opening one eye, you’re pressed against the same chest you realized you’d bumped into, and there were strong, gentle arms around your waist and upper back. Your hand was gripping at one of the person’s shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself from falling.

The person pulls away from you slightly, checking to see if you’re okay, and you tilt your head up, your gaze meeting the wide, dark amber eyes of who you now realize is a very attractive blond man, his face inches from yours. Immediately your face flushes red and you’re both stuttering out apologies as he pulls you back onto your feet.

You peel yourself off of his chest a little, and his hands slide your waist in an attempt to steady you and himself, the stranger you practically sprinted into.

“Oh shit, I’m so so sorry, are you okay?” The man’s face is as red as yours, brows knitted in concern.

“I’m fine, but are you okay? I ran into you pretty hard.” Without thinking, you lift your hand to rest on his chest. You could’ve sworn he pulled you a little closer at your touch–

“Hey, lovebirds. You gettin’ on the bus, or can I go?”

You tear your eyes from the man’s at the voice, the sound of the rain crashes down on you as you come back to earth with it, realizing that the bus driver was waiting for the two of you.

“I–oh–sorry–yes!” You squeak out, pulling away from the poor man you’d run into, and politely motioning for him to board the bus.

“Oh, after you, please.” He’s still blushing furiously, and you had half a second to wonder what such a handsome guy had to be embarrassed about before you noticed the bus driver, who was having none of this, was reaching for the lever to close the door.

You practically leap onto the bus, sinking into one of the seats near the front, where the chairs lined the windows. You found yourself actually grateful that it was this late, there was no one else on board besides you and the man you’d run into, who had settled into a seat almost directly across from you.

Reiner watches your gaze shift to him as he sinks into his seat, concern knitting his brows together as he notices how battered you looked from the rain.

As for himself? He was a little shell shocked, to say the least. He’d lost track of time at work, something that happened more often than he wanted to admit, but it had never gotten this bad. He was new to the city, and he hadn’t gotten a chance to get used to the bus schedule yet. When he realized he was late to catch the last bus of the night, he’d sprinted out the door, barely looking where he was going. He’d run into you pretty hard, and he wasn’t a stranger to the laws of physics. He was much bigger than you, it had to have hurt at least a little when he’d run into you. You’d nearly fallen over completely; if he was a split second slower you’d have been flat on your ass in the puddle behind you.

His eyes find yours again, and he blushes, feeling the flush in his cheeks once more. It wasn’t helping that you were by far the most attractive woman he’d seen. He wanted to say something else–at the very least apologize one more time, but the silence in the air was too thick to break through. Instead, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you settled into your seat, brushing wet hair out of your face before leaning your head back against the window.

You’d just gotten as comfortable as you could possibly be for your situation when an odd metallic screech, followed by an awful clicking and tearing noise, ricocheted around the interior of the bus. Your eyes snap open as the bus driver curses softly, his foot slamming on the gas pedal, revving the engine, yet the bus crawls to a stop. You groan to yourself; you weren’t even ten minutes into the commute. Through the rain that was beginning to coat the windshield of the bus, you can see smoke rising from the engine.

Despite the fog outside, Reiner could feel the tension inside the bus begin to fade as the driver climbs out of his seat, wrenching the door open and stumbling out into the rain.

“Well, it looks like it’s gonna be a bit of a long ride, isn’t it?” He murmurs, eyes flicking to take in your pained expression.

You let out a sharp laugh. “And here I was thinking my day couldn’t get any worse.”

“Heh, luck certainly hasn’t been on our side, has it?” He smiles faintly, “What else happened to you today?”

“My boss keeps asking me to work late.” You shake your head, as if to say you should know better than to accept the task. “I’m the only one in our office that can do my job, so it’s not like I can ask someone else. But my car broke down, so I’m stuck taking this bus to the office until next Tuesday. It’s not easy commuting in formal business clothes.” Your face contorts, sticking out your tongue as you shift in your seat against the wet skirt clinging to your legs. Reiner almost laughs, but a second later your expression drops. “I didn’t expect to be this late, and now it’s raining buckets.”

“Man…I’m really sorry, that’s gotta be rough.” You meet his eyes, and you can tell that he genuinely feels bad for you. “Hey, by next week things should be back to normal for you. It’s almost the weekend, you don’t need to do this for too much longer, at least.”

Normally, you’d brush his comment off, but there was a deep softness in his eyes that brings you back to the way his arms felt around you.

“What’s your name?” You found yourself asking. “I think we’re gonna be here for a bit, might as well get to know each other.”

“Reiner. Reiner Braun.”

“Reiner…I like it. It’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n y/l/n.” You flash him a small smile, and you can see his face relax slightly when he realizes your mood has alleviated a little.

“Pretty name for a pretty woman.” He smirks, and your breath catches before your mouth pulls into a smile again. You’re caught speechless for a moment, not expecting the handsome blond to be so forward.

“A pretty woman who just ran into you full-force.” You chuckle.

Reiner was enjoying just how gorgeous your smile was. Suddenly, running into each other didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Heh, maybe you should try out for the local football team. I bet they’d be lucky to have you.”

His comment turns your chuckle into a full laugh, the mental picture of you in a football uniform wiping all thoughts of your rough day from your mind. But your eyes widen when you realize you probably ran into him pretty hard.

“Y-you’re not hurt, are you?!” You tense in your seat, hoping he wasn’t injured.

“Sweetheart, I barely felt a thing. I’m more worried about you, if I’m being honest.”

You blush. “O-oh, I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” But the shiver that runs through your body the moment the words leave your mouth has Reiner thinking otherwise. Since the driver had turned the bus off completely, the chilly air outside was slowly replacing the heat inside through the open door, and your thin, soaking wet clothes weren’t much protection from the cold.

“Hey, you cold? Take my jacket.” He switches seats to sit next to you, draping the rain jacket he was wearing around your shoulders before you could protest.

You smile up at him. “Thanks, I guess this is a lesson to always have an umbrella on me.” You curl into the jacket, more than grateful you’d bumped into someone so kind.

Reiner smirks at you, a little swamped by how large his jacket is, but feeling a little better that you were okay.

“Give me your hands.” He murmurs, and you raise an eyebrow at him, but shift to place your hands in his, gasping slightly at the soft touch of his skin.

“You’re so warm…”

He releases your hands and holds his arms out as a better idea dawns on him. “Heh, you’re freezing, c’mere.”

You find yourself blushing for the tenth time, but you curl into his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck against soft skin and the smooth fabric of the collared shirt he wore. He rests his cheek on your head as his arms wrap around you, and you feel him smile into your hair. A wave of exhaustion washes over you as you settle against him, feeling oddly safe, and you close your eyes.

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

“Alright, you two. New bus is here, let’s get you home.”

You blink your eyes open at the driver’s words. He’d called for a backup bus, and a tow truck had arrived for the one you were stuck on. You feel Reiner shift against you, and you guessed he’d fallen asleep as well. He grumbles a little, but before you can shift off of him he stands, lifting you in his arms. Squeaking in surprise, you loop your arms around his neck, and ss he exits the old bus, you realize it’s stopped raining.

The two of you settle into your seats curled up next to each other on the new bus, ignoring the look the second bus driver throws your way as the first bus driver boards as well. Soon enough, you were back on your route home, chatting with Reiner about anything and everything, wherever the conversation took you. He was a sweetheart, if not a little shy at times, but at the same time wildly smart and witty. You found he could make you laugh easily, and your bad mood from earlier was now barely a whisper in the back of your mind as you chatted with your newfound friend–but judging by the look in his eyes, it would become much more than that. It turned out you lived a few streets away from him, and you were surprised you’d never run into each other until he mentioned he had only been in the city for a few weeks.

You step off the bus with him at your stop, and as you walk along toward your apartment you feel his fingers intertwine with yours. You fight against the wide smile tugging at your lips, but ultimately give in, leaning against his arm a little. You found yourself wishing that your apartment wasn’t so close to the bus stop, wanting to spend more time with him.

“Oh, I should give you your jacket back.” As you reach the front door of your building, you move to shrug the jacket off your shoulders.

Reiner stops you. “Nah, you hold onto it for now. You can give it back to me when I see you next.”

You turn to look up at him, and find him holding his phone out with a blank contact screen open.

“Hah, I’m counting on it, Reiner Braun.” You grin as you quickly type your name and number into his phone, triple-checking to make sure you didn’t mess up your number.

As you hand his phone back to him, he pulls you into what you immediately decided was the best hug you’d ever received, sinking easily into his arms. You feel his nose brush your cheek, and as the hug breaks you find yourself placing a hand on his cheek. Your heart flutters as you gaze into his honey-colored eyes, a soft smile on his lips. He tilts his head into your hand slightly.

“Reiner…is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?”

He breaks into the widest smile you’d seen from him all night. “Not at all.”

A heartbeat after the words leave his mouth, your lips are on his. You slide your hands into his hair, looping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer by your waist. You’re completely enveloped by him, losing yourself to his soft lips. You move slowly with each other until the kiss is broken only by your need to breathe, and you stand together for a while longer, noses brushing. You don’t ever want to leave his arms, but it’s so late, and you have work tomorrow.

You pull away from him slowly. “Reiner…I don’t want to say goodnight, but I’ve gotta get up for work tomorrow.”

“Hm, what time do you usually go in?”

“Seven, it’s pretty early.”

“I’ll meet you at the bus stop then.”

You grin as he dips down to press a kiss against your lips, your hand gripping lightly at his arm, wanting to pull him into your apartment but knowing you’d never sleep if you did. You say your goodnights, and as you step inside your building, your phone buzzes.

Hey :) It’s Reiner

You’d never felt warmer. You tug his jacket a little closer around you as you walk to your apartment, and you smile to yourself, wondering how such an awful day turned into the best one you’d had in a long time.

#reiner x reader #reiner braun #attack on titan #reiner brainrot #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner x y/n #shingeki no kyojin #aot #reiner x you #reiner fluff #reiner braun x y/n #snk reiner #aot reiner #honey writes #I've reread this like 100 times aaaaaaa I hope u like it :o

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keicordelle · 1 year

Text

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Recognizability

Being an Au Ra in Eorzea meant that, by definition, he had no anonymity. Oh, people feigned not recognizing him sometimes, offering him half-hearted comments like, "You don't look like you're from around here," or "Do you happen to know anyone who might be strong enough to...". But, as he'd encountered only a handful of other Au Ra in his time in Eorzea, and most of them living as discretely as possible, he really doubted that anyone on the continent hadn't heard his description. "Seven fulms tall with horns and a tail" was rather hard to miss, he judged, no matter the polite games strangers played.

Sometimes it worked to his advantage. He hadn't had to pay for an ale in many moons, and he was pretty well guaranteed work any time he needed it just by showing up somewhere. But most of the time... Most of the time his uniqueness was a burden.

Most problematic as an adventurer was that it made espionage and subtlety absolutely impossible. He couldn't blend in with a crowd if his life depended on it - and occasionally it did. Any enemies could pick him out a mile away, and forget trying to surreptitiously inquire about anything. No one was likely to forget that a giant lizard had come to ask about their boss's comings and goings, and it wasn't like he could pretend to be an inhabitant of any city on this continent. He could maybe have gotten away with it back in Othard, where at least Au Ra were relatively common, so long as no one thought too hard about the fact that his horns were black, not white.

At least it let him pretend that people were afraid of his reputation and not his alien appearance when they shrank from him at first meeting. The wide-eyed stares and pointing fingers of children in the streets were obviously because he was a great adventurer and not just because he was big and pointy and scaled. No matter that after years of relative isolation on the Steppe, several of the other races were equally unusual to him (what even was the deal with Miqo'te? Why did their tails have fur, but nowhere else on their bodies seemed to? And Viera, who had the ears of a rabbit but no other shared traits that he could see. Did they have little cottontails tucked into their pants?). At the very least, it made him far more willing to work with the so-called 'beast tribes' than any Eorzean he'd ever met. So what if they looked and acted a little different? Everything over here was bizarre anyway, and most would say the same about him. The main difference between Xaela and Amalj'aa that he could see what's the number of scales on their bodies - and that the latter had an even worse time blending in than he did. At least his stature was still within the realm of reasonability in a land where Roegadyn also flourished.

"Keshet?"

The sound of his name in the middle of a bustling street in Ul'dah should not have surprised him, but he still jumped. Sighing, he tugged off the hood that he'd pulled down over his face in an attempt to achieve anonymity and twisted to face the white haired Elezen who'd called out to him. "Hello Alphinaud."

The boy took in the cloak that covered his usual outfit and the tail Keshet had tucked under its folds and winced apologetically. "My apologies, were you attempting to disguise yourself?"

"Attempting and failing, it would seem," he responded wryly.

Alphinaud offered him a sympathetic smile. "Your horns leave quite an imprint against the hood, and the base of your tail juts out against the fabric. And I'm sorry to say that even without any of that, your gait will always give you away to those who are familiar with you." He cocked his head. "Why were you trying to hide your identity anyway?"

Cheeks heating, Keshet looked away. "I didn't want to be recognized while standing in line for the release of the new Wind-Up Scions toys," he mumbled. "I'm still missing Urianger."

Alphinaud coughed to cover the bark of laughter the admission elicited. "You- Ah. That is. Understandable. However, I think your disguise unlikely to succeed."

Taking a deep breath, Keshet rolled his shoulders and stripped off the cloak. "Then if I cannot hide, I shall simply have to be so unabashedly confident that none would think to question my presence." Ah well. In truth, hiding and subterfuge never became him anyway. And maybe his reputation would be enough to let him skip the line and finish off his collection.

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #au ra #wol #alphinaud leveilleur #my writing #daily inconveniences #keshet dotharl #~K

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dallasdoesntexist · 2 months

Note

thank you so much for such a comprehensive ask! i feel like ik a lot more little details about the city now that i wouldn’t have known otherwise — tysm<33

but if it’s not a bother, i just wanted to ask — what do you mean by this bit? “There's a lot going on politically within the uni at the moment, with gender liberation (especially trans rights, which sucks for me as a trans person)” i… am also trans, but i’ve not transitioned or come out (my family is quite transphobic, and my city doesn’t have the resources for trans stuff as far as im aware), so i was hoping to come out and transition after i move out and go to uni. but from what you say here, it sounds like if i do end up being accepted here, it might be safer to stay in the closet? i’m so sorry to ask this — i know it’s not a fun thing to talk abt. i’m just a bit stressed— since i do know people who live in the city and are doing well, but none of them r trans unfortunately.

also— i’m sorry, i promise i’m not trying to just dredge up the negatives😭😭 but ahhvwnegdjd there’s a housing crisis / cost of living crisis / overcrowded classes and courses / timetabling issues / assessment feedback issues?? i know, sadly, that none of this is unique just to Edinburgh, but i didn’t actually realise the city and uni were having all of these problems specifically. i’m sorry if this is a stupid question, but instead of asking you a whole lot, i guess i’d just love to know— is it… bad? as in, in your experience, worse than other unis have it?/if you could go somewhere else would you, that kinda thing. The timetabling issues sound crazy (6hrs of classes?!!) but i feel like i could deal w/ that, but oof, assessment feedback stuff? what’s your experiences w/ that been like, if any? i’m just not from a place where they really prepare us for uni (well, they do, just — my country’s school system and unis work very differently to those in the uk), so i feel like w/out feedback i might end up falling behind lol.

also!! yep, i did mean eng lit, not english languag — thank you SO much for so much of detail on all of that! it cleared up so many questions i didn’t realise i had. like seriously, your ask was so sweet and comprehensive, of course definitely no pressure to answer whatever is going on in this one😭😭

hi again!!! so sorry for answering so late, im only on tumblr every now and then at the minute.

about the trans stuff, I was in the exact same situation as you. I had the same idea with transitioning once I moved to uni and honestly, there will be pros and cons with doing that no matter where you go. At UoE specifically, there has been a lot of controversy surrounding multiple attempted screenings of Adult Human Female with it recently being found that the uni actually paid for an external security company to make sure the event went forward. Recently a trans-exclusionary LGB activist managed to secure a major role within the university. The Trans and Nonbinary Officer did step down in protest of both of these events, and the position is still unfortunately vacant.

HOWEVER there are a lot of positives to being out as trans (even if its just to your friends) at the university, such as:

The Gender Liberation Society which meet every Monday in Appleton Tower

The Gender Empowerment Fund which allows you access to packers/binders/wigs/any trans apparel you might need (with a limit of £150)

You can change your name on the University of Edinburgh system on your own (via EUCLID) so that your real/preferred name is the one on class registers, instead of your birth/dead name

Lots of tutors will as everyone to specify their pronouns at the first meeting, so you'll never feel targeted

There's trans flags spray painted on walls all across old town LMAO

GET A GP AS SOON AS YOU MOVE HERE! The waiting list for the gender identity clinic REQUIRES a GP referral and the wait list is only <2 years long!

(in comparison, Glasgow's is >5 years!)

All in all, the issues with trans stuff has to do more with the admin of the university rather than the people who actually matter to you. You'll find the admin of the uni suck the most more than anyone else at everything. Most of the normal people at the university are very understanding and polite about you being trans (one of my friends actually forgot I was trans once, straight up just thought I was a guy which was very flattering lmao).

In my opinion, it is very worth it coming out. There are people who have your back.

About all of the other stuff, though the University are at fault for not doing enough to help, often everyone affected works together to make it as easy a life as possible. If you are struggling with timetabling, or how full your classes are, or if the amount of assessments you have are driving you up the wall, there is always someone you can contact. In order of who you should contact first:

Your Student Advisor: they can help point you in the right direction and provide notes that can be used at the end of the year to apply for Special Circumstances (if, say, mental health or financial issues, etc, got in the way of your studies)

The Listening Service at the Chaplaincy

The Advice Place

Student Counselling service

Wellbeing officer

and im sure there are more but I've not had to go past this step

About housing-- it is a country-wide issue, but very apparent in the bigger cities like Glasgow and Edinburgh. Even some of my family in London have shared the same sentiment ("If an agency offers you a flat, just take it. It doesn't matter if it doesn't suit our needs, we can't afford to be picky.") Students at UoE have protested the University's lack of involvement in ensuring that students will not go homeless ESPECIALLY since they are taking on a significantly higher amount of students (especially international). There is really nothing that can be done about this, BUT I have heard of undergrads making friends with 4th years and taking over their flat at the end of the year when the 4th years graduate. That's always an option. Again, there is also the Co-op, but it is very competitive.

If we are to compare UoE to other universities, by far and large it is still better academically than most. The reputation is phenomenal and people will wow you whenever you tell them where you study. Being from Glasgow, it was a competition between the two of those Uni's for me, and I do feel like I made the right choice coming to Edinburgh despite all of its flaws. Remember, the university isn't your entire life -- the city can be part of it, too. It really just depends what you're looking for from both the university and life outside of it. I don't think I would have gone anywhere else (unless I could afford Oxbridge lmao). I don't want it to sound like I hate the uni, sure, it is frustrating, but I just want to be as open and honest with you about it as possible so that you truly know what you are getting into.

If you want any actually decent feedback, schedule office hours with your tutor/lecturer and talk with them about it there. The written stuff tends not to help me at all, I need to be verbally told what went wrong and how to improve. The written feedback tends to be more harsh than helpful, and doesn't help me understand where I lost marks.

Scotland's university system is also different to the rest of the UK (yay devolved government), meaning you will do 4 years of a degree instead of 3, and a bunch of other stuff that isn't coming to mind rn lol. School's don't prep us for uni that much either, except for if you do Advanced Highers (which I did for Eng Lit). They are technically the equivalent to first year of university (which I agree with).

#talking.txt #edinburgh #student life #study blog #studyblr #ask #anon #university of edinburgh

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

Mrs. Teach should go berrypicking with Pete's dad. As a little treat :-)

(So I was like...yeah obviously in "she said you can't hurry love' Dave also lives and yes they would meet eventually and how nice that would be! So not berry picking exactly, but here’s Whina and Dave meeting for the first time)

“It’s very crowded,” Whina stayed by the door. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it like this, not even last summer.”

“Seems like we top ourselves each year,” Lucius agreed.

He was holding a clipboard, a phone in a hot pink case that she didn’t think was his, a folder full of paper and there was a walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. His hair was sticking up in every direction and she didn’t think it was intentional.

“Just point me in a useful direction,” she suggested. “Sister Eulalia said something about assembling lunches?”

“That would be a huge help. We make sure all the performers and vendors are fed,” he explained, walking briskly across the floor so that she had to double time to keep up. “It’s a good spread, but we need to box it all up so they can take them as needed. I already put Dave to work there.”

“Dave?”

“Pete’s father,” Lucius slowed a hair. “He’s deaf in his left ear, so make sure you’re on his right. You’ll love him. He’s a sweetheart.”

“All right,” she tried to remember that as he led her to a table in the back, past the chaos of dozens of performers and their assistants preparing. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

The table was piled high snack sized bags of goodies and platters of fat sandwiches and a tray of pasta. The man scooping pasta carefully into plastic containers was definitely her age. He looked like a weathered bulldog, short, thick and mullish, but when Lucius said, “How’s it going, Dave?” a wide lovely smile unfolded over his face and Whina could see that he shared Pete’s bright blue eyes.

“Making progress! Need them by 11, right?”

“Exactly,” Lucius came around the table, gave the man a one-armed hug. “You’re amazing. Got you so help.”

“Oh, if you need someone somewhere else-”

“No, I think this is perfect,” Lucius determined, releasing him. “Dave, this is Whina Teach. Whina, Dave Black. Have fun!”

And then he was rabbiting off, barking something into the radio.

“He’s going to wear himself out,” Whina predicted.

“Always does,” Dave agreed, holding out his hand. She shook it and found it pleasantly warm where he’d been handling the pasta. “Pleasure to meet you, m’am.”

“Whina, please. Show me what I can do to help.”

“I’ve got the pasta packaging going okay. Could you get the sandwiches wrapped in wax paper? Then it’ll all be prepped and we just gotta bag it all up.”

She made sure to stand on his right side, then got to work. It was familiar labor to her, after all the hours of working at the soup kitchen. The air conditioning in the Revenge was laboring, but managing to keep up. There were far worse ways to spend a morning.

“I think Lucius mentioned that you live fairly far away?” She asked once they had their rhythm going.

“It’s a haul, if I drive, but I quit that last year. I fly and then it’s not so bad. Pete has been on me to move closer and don’t tell him, but I’m starting to consider it. Just not a big city fan.”

“I live about a half-hour south,” she offered. “I just couldn’t leave the sea. But it’s close enough for easy visits, not so easy that Eddy gets underfoot.”

Dave laughed, “You worry about your space?”

“She’s just a terribly nosy person for someone that loves a secret,” Whina admitted. “Sometimes a person just wants to keep a few things to themselves. And Stede is a lovely man, but he takes a lot of energy.”

“I don’t know them nearly as well as I should,” Dave carefully tapped an errant noodle into its plastic container. “When I visit, I mostly spend time with Pete and his people. Lucius is the nosy one, but he’s so funny about it, hard to get bent out of shape. Pete just keeps trying to make me take vitamins.”

“It feels all wrong, doesn’t it? How they fuss over us now?” She shook her head.

“Does it ever!” He chuckled. “I pulled that boy out of a dozen scrapes a day when he was small and now he’s on me about my insulin like I don’t know how to manage myself. But I like it better than the alternative. Some of my friends, they never hear from theirs.”

“I don’t know how they bear it. No matter how much I want to swat her, I would just go to pieces without my girl around sometimes.”

“Did I hear rightly that you help sew some of the costumes around here?”

“Oh, not that much,” she demurred. “I just lend a hand in a tight turnaround.”

“I think Pete said you were the best with lace though.”

“They all do go too hard on it,” she allowed. “And I do the occasional re-heeling. A newer hobby.”

“How do you go about that?” He asked with what seemed genuine curiosity. “I did a bit of leather work once. Belts mostly. Shoes seemed a little intimidating.”

They talked about their crafts, their old jobs, and soon the pile of food started going neatly into bags with Whina’s careful markings on them for contents and allergens. They went on talking as the food was carried away and was replaced with folders and some papers for last minute additions to a local resources packet.

“So you like your neighborhood?” Dave asked. “I’ve always liked being near water, but for me that’s lakes. Never even been to the ocean.”

“Never been to the ocean!” She shook her head. “Absolutely unacceptable. How long are you in town?”

“Rest of the week. I knew I’d barely see anyone if I stuck to this weekend and it’s not like I’ve got anyone waiting on me, except my dog and my neighbor has him all taken care of.”

“You have to come visit me,” she decided. “Do you play bridge?”

“Sure, I know the rules at least.”

“I bet my neighbor is going to drop out, she was already fake coughing when she heard me come outside this morning. She’s a big flake. Come by on Tuesday and play a hand or two. Bring the boys if you like.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Not at all,” she hesitated then rested her hand lightly on his arm, “you’d be doing me a favor, really. New company is always a treat for us. We get sick of each other.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely, and we can go for a walk on the beach after.”

“You know,” he smiled down at her hand, a little pink in the cheeks. “I think I’d like that very much.”

It was Izzy’s car that showed up, all of them unloading from it to the delight of her bridge club.

“Whina!” Emily grasped her arm. “Where did all of that come from?”

“You lay off,” Whina laughed. “Just Izzy and his folk.”

“Are the single?”

“Just the old one and you lay off now.”

“Oh ho,” Emily grinned at her. “Why would that be?”

“Mind yourself,” Whina sniffed. “I’m just being friendly. He’s thinking of moving out here to be closer to his son, so let’s not scare him off.”

It was a nice afternoon, so they took the cards into her back garden. Dave impressed Emily and Lawrence immediately by producing hard cider which they all had a preference for. Pete and Izzy went to go talk over her car like it was doing anything except sitting there and Lucius had laid claim to her hammock, clearly asleep the second he laid out.

She couldn’t have asked for things to seem homier, but she did sweeten the deal with a plate of cinnamon cookies to share along with the cider. They played bridge and Dave was better than he’d let on, but not so good that anyone got annoyed.

Lawrence and Emily left for some church obligation, but not before Emily extracted a promise that she’d call later with more information. Interfering busybody. What had Whina done that she was plagued with nosiness?

“Best go now if we’re going,” Whina came back to the yard to find Dave tidying up. “You don’t have to do that, I’ve got it.”

“Nonsense,” he brought the plates into the kitchen. “Never held with making a host do all the work. Let me at least get these into the sink.”

They wound up doing the washing up together. Pete looped back in then, catching sight of the scene.

“Working already?” He chided.

“It’s a dish, son, I’ll survive it,” Dave said in the same tone right back. “We’re going to walk the beach. You coming?”

“I’m going to get Lucius up and get some food in him so he’s not pouty on the drive home,” Pete said. “You guys have fun. Whina, Izzy said he was going to pick up your woodchips.”

“Did he say if he was getting the-”

“Regular brown ones, not the red. He was clear,” Pete smiled. “Guess he’s done it a few times, huh?”

“Just a few,” she allowed.

So Whina got her shoes on and found a sweater. It was summer, but the beach was windy year round and she got chilled easier these days. Dave followed her lead across the street and down aways until they came to the ramp that cut clean between two houses.

“We don’t get many tourists because it’s a bit rocky,” she explained. “But the town keeps this stretch sandy for families and we all work together to keep it clean. Hard sometimes, the way people drop bottles and things.”

“That’s a shame,” he came down the last step and looked out over the water. It was putting on a good show today, the green-brown waves tamer than usual, crashing to the shore in even ebbs. “Now that is a sight.”

“Isn’t it?” She admired the long stretch of water, the pebbly, sandy shore. “I come out here almost every morning.”

“Thank you, for inviting me,” he said emphatically.

They walked down along the water, far enough that the waves couldn’t nip at their toes. This early in the summer it wouldn’t yet be warm enough to enjoy. At one point, Dave stooped and picked up a bit of seaglass.

“It gets polished by the water over time,” she explained. “All the hard points softened up.”

“I sympathize,” Dave smiled and tucked it into his pocket.

“Me too,” she confessed.

They walked for longer than she usually would, content in each other’s company. Long enough that by the time they got back to the house, Izzy had already spread most of the wood chips. He got up off his knees as they came close.

“Eddy called,” he told her. “Said she tried you first.”

“I don’t get much reception by the water,” she admitted.

“Well, she hear we were all here and she wants to come down with Stede for dinner. Promised to buy it, something about shrimp.”

“That’s the shellfish place I was telling you about,” she told Dave, touching his wrist lightly. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

They had to open up the dining room table, adding a leaf which Izzy and Pete did while Lucius got down dishes to set the table. Eddy and Stede arrived with bags and bags of food and soon the whole house smelled like seafood and butter.

“Mama,” Eddy leaned in, a twitch of a smile on her lips. “You’re being very nice to Dave.”

“A person can always use more friends,” she tapped Eddy on her nose. “That’s all.”

“Mhm. I heard he’s thinking of moving out here.”

“It’s a good place to live. I can’t be proud of my town now?”

“Be as proud as you like,” Eddy plopped more shrimp on her plate. “But if I’m getting a stepdad this late in life, I think I deserve to know.”

“Stop it,” she chided.

But she did give Dave her number before he left. Just in case. Someone should help him find a place out here, after all, if that’s what he wound up doing. It was just neighborly.

#leda house and the kraken verse #she said love don't come easy #whina teach #dave black

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